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The Devil's Return (Part I)

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Ages ago, a man’s body and soul were overtaken by none other than Lucifer himself. He was set to roam the Earth for life on end without eternal rest. Over his lifetime, he has gone on bloody and malicious rampages, slaughtering countless amounts of innocent lives and laying them to rest. His blade hungered for blood and flesh, wishing to saw away at the weak skin of the human waste that wandered the plains of this planet. Tonight, he would make a return to the mortal world after locking himself away for nearly 10 years. Tonight, he had only one victim in mind and anyone who dared cross his path would be brutally terrorized. He dawned a black hoodie over his latex clown mask that had now become worn and faded. His victim was in for no mercy and a realm of agony.

He trudged through the white home to gather any and all murdering weapons. A glock, AR-15, 12-gauge pump action shotgun, and his Waffe der Wahl, a blade with the rusted blood of victims oh so long ago. Overturning the blade in his hands, he faintly grinned at the memories and sounds of their screams, their flesh being torn away with each brutal blow.

The bloodlust now coursing through his veins, he equipped himself with additional clips filled with ammunition. This man now armed to the teeth set out for his journey that would lead him to his ultimate and final victim. Stepping out into the pouring rain and fierce winds, he looked to the skies that poured with depression and fear. The rain clattered against the ground in a sadistic symphony. A clap of thunder and a flash of lightning lit up the environment to expose the filth that truly existed. The man stepped out into the rain and ventured off into the shadows ahead.

As he traveled through the darkness alone, a group of children began to catch up from behind on their bicycles. He could hear the sound of their tires splashing through the rain that was now building up in the streets. Stopping dead center in the sidewalk, the children made a sudden halt a few feet short of the tall figure that blocked their path.

“Hey, faggot, get the fuck out of our way!” one of the boys shouted over a boom of thunder.

Followed by the thunder, all they could hear was the faint breathing behind the mask. This only angered the boys causing one of them to get off their bikes and confront the masked figure.

“Hey, fuck face! Didn’t you hear us? We said move!!” the boy shouted.

His fingers trembled against the handle of the blade before quickly thrusting it into the chest of the boy before him. The merciless blow went straight through his chest and the vast amount of force caused two ribs to snap like twigs. Pulling back the blade and knocking the child onto the cold, drenched concrete he turned to the other boy who was too terrified at the sounds of his friend’s ribs snapping to move.

The killer glared at the boy and tilted his head to the side before revealing the glock and pointing the cold steel between the eyes of yet another innocent soul. Another boom of thunder masked the gunshot. Two young lives now painted the asphalt a deep maroon that mixed with the murky brown water already flowing through the streets. He turned away from the lifeless bodies and continued on his way.

The veins beneath his icy skin could be felt pumping with adrenaline. He had forgotten what it was like to kill, almost as if it were foreign. The rain continued and pounded down around him. Up the street, a party raged on within a home and the music could be heard from where he stood, nearly 100 yards away. “Perhaps this is where I could find her.” thought the killer as he ventured closer. With each nearing step, the music grew more obnoxious and unbearable. The home seemed impenetrable with the great amount of teens blocking the entrance. He had to force his way inside, he had to begin the final showdown.

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