Post by Zenki on Nov 22, 2018 23:55:20 GMT -5
“What are you doing!”
Chiaki holds her palms on either side of her face with a look of sheer panic as an isle of full of detergent falls to the floor, creating a rainbow of slime and a banquet of scents racing the senses.
Our Lord Zenki stands on the other side of it, a look of pure mischief bleeding through his crimson mask.
“Lord Zenki, stop this at once!”
Zenki strikes a defiant pose and then palm strikes the floor panel underneath him, a blast of smoke overcoming his form and hiding his ninja like exit. Chiaki stand in aghast as the smoke slowly dissipates as static fills the air.
“Clean up on aisle nine. Clean up on aisle nine.”
The war against the foreign invasion continued to rage, Grim entered a new realm to stretch the reach of the Demon Brigade and Lord Zenki decided it was time to train in a new battlefield, where the American Slaves were forced to wear their slave colors, the infernal blue of corporate overthrow, the demon of savings at the risk of your soul, Wal-Mart the Immortal.
Clambering could be heard from a couple aisles over as metal beat against metal and cold dead wheels beat against laminate like the ferryman’s hull against the waves in the river of the damned. Chiaki ran quickly, praying to…Lord Zenki?...that it wasn’t what she feared. As she came close to the cosmetics aisle she was threw back onto her rear as a chariot rushed past her with a gust of wind flowing off that only flowed from the war chariots of the righteous.
The chariot was a metal cart that once branded the logo of the corporation, now transformed with lipstick into the face of the demon who stood in the metal basket, a helmet and nerf gun model after World War 2 adorned his body, plastic sword shoved into his belt. For this venture Lord Zenki had chose the mightiest of steeds who pushed his war chariot down the aisles of the demon world…two Zealots who’s faces had been made up with war paint.
“Zenki no!”
Chiaki scrambled to her feet, but her actions were in vain as the Demon Child of Thunder and Light began unloading volleys of rounds into anyone dressed in the evil blue and khaki. Kids screamed out, battling against the restraints of their parental units. Demon Brigade fans became rapid as they watched the traitors receive round to the head, the sucking sound of the plastic tips branding their foreheads in an attempt to reveal their sin.
But a problem arose.
These workers where just slaves.
Forced into servitude by the dark master.
But with a voice of a bat in the body of a hippo comes the shriek,
“Enough of this!”
Came the final boss.
The war chariot had turned left at the electronics section and now faced the source of evil itself. Khaki strained to contain the evil that oozed from its legs, blue button down was covered like the peak of Mount Fuji in the white powered of it’s donut victims. Blonde hair was pulled back and restrained to expose its sweat stained forehead and clown make up. The late-night shift manager.
The Zealots behind him covered their mouths to contain the purge their boys attempted. Civilians ran from the aisle and hid in the racks, peaking through clothes as if they were the blinds to their windows. Our Lord however, stood erect as he stared ahead, as the Temporal Emperor.
“Zenki! NO!”
Chiaki reached as she ran forward in an attempt to stop the inevitable…but it was futile.
Zenki let out a battle cry that awoke the sleeping dragon of Japan. He tossed his battle rifle over his shoulder which clambered against the ground. Grabbing the hilt of his sword he pulled it from his belt and leap from the cart and made a mad dash towards the cowardly whale, his scream echoing through the dark void where the she beasts’ soul had once been.
“Wait. What the hell!”
The devil tried to turn away as fudge round fell from her pockets. She turned as slow as the world revolved and stood no chance against the lighting speed of our champion. Screams echoed through the building, lights flickered like the scenes of a horror movie.
Chiaki rounded the corner again to see the sight before her. Zenki had slain the great beast and stood upon it like a great king.
“ZENKI! How is this training.”
Zenki still stood defiant, the roar of his rans around him deafen his ears to the great priestess. Today was a good day to be champion…a good day to be Zenki.
Chiaki holds her palms on either side of her face with a look of sheer panic as an isle of full of detergent falls to the floor, creating a rainbow of slime and a banquet of scents racing the senses.
Our Lord Zenki stands on the other side of it, a look of pure mischief bleeding through his crimson mask.
“Lord Zenki, stop this at once!”
Zenki strikes a defiant pose and then palm strikes the floor panel underneath him, a blast of smoke overcoming his form and hiding his ninja like exit. Chiaki stand in aghast as the smoke slowly dissipates as static fills the air.
“Clean up on aisle nine. Clean up on aisle nine.”
The war against the foreign invasion continued to rage, Grim entered a new realm to stretch the reach of the Demon Brigade and Lord Zenki decided it was time to train in a new battlefield, where the American Slaves were forced to wear their slave colors, the infernal blue of corporate overthrow, the demon of savings at the risk of your soul, Wal-Mart the Immortal.
Clambering could be heard from a couple aisles over as metal beat against metal and cold dead wheels beat against laminate like the ferryman’s hull against the waves in the river of the damned. Chiaki ran quickly, praying to…Lord Zenki?...that it wasn’t what she feared. As she came close to the cosmetics aisle she was threw back onto her rear as a chariot rushed past her with a gust of wind flowing off that only flowed from the war chariots of the righteous.
The chariot was a metal cart that once branded the logo of the corporation, now transformed with lipstick into the face of the demon who stood in the metal basket, a helmet and nerf gun model after World War 2 adorned his body, plastic sword shoved into his belt. For this venture Lord Zenki had chose the mightiest of steeds who pushed his war chariot down the aisles of the demon world…two Zealots who’s faces had been made up with war paint.
“Zenki no!”
Chiaki scrambled to her feet, but her actions were in vain as the Demon Child of Thunder and Light began unloading volleys of rounds into anyone dressed in the evil blue and khaki. Kids screamed out, battling against the restraints of their parental units. Demon Brigade fans became rapid as they watched the traitors receive round to the head, the sucking sound of the plastic tips branding their foreheads in an attempt to reveal their sin.
But a problem arose.
These workers where just slaves.
Forced into servitude by the dark master.
But with a voice of a bat in the body of a hippo comes the shriek,
“Enough of this!”
Came the final boss.
The war chariot had turned left at the electronics section and now faced the source of evil itself. Khaki strained to contain the evil that oozed from its legs, blue button down was covered like the peak of Mount Fuji in the white powered of it’s donut victims. Blonde hair was pulled back and restrained to expose its sweat stained forehead and clown make up. The late-night shift manager.
The Zealots behind him covered their mouths to contain the purge their boys attempted. Civilians ran from the aisle and hid in the racks, peaking through clothes as if they were the blinds to their windows. Our Lord however, stood erect as he stared ahead, as the Temporal Emperor.
“Zenki! NO!”
Chiaki reached as she ran forward in an attempt to stop the inevitable…but it was futile.
Zenki let out a battle cry that awoke the sleeping dragon of Japan. He tossed his battle rifle over his shoulder which clambered against the ground. Grabbing the hilt of his sword he pulled it from his belt and leap from the cart and made a mad dash towards the cowardly whale, his scream echoing through the dark void where the she beasts’ soul had once been.
“Wait. What the hell!”
The devil tried to turn away as fudge round fell from her pockets. She turned as slow as the world revolved and stood no chance against the lighting speed of our champion. Screams echoed through the building, lights flickered like the scenes of a horror movie.
Chiaki rounded the corner again to see the sight before her. Zenki had slain the great beast and stood upon it like a great king.
“ZENKI! How is this training.”
Zenki still stood defiant, the roar of his rans around him deafen his ears to the great priestess. Today was a good day to be champion…a good day to be Zenki.