This Means War

  Naomi looked down at the note, written in kanji. She felt tears welt in her eyes, threatening to fall down her cheeks. Eventually, she broke down and sobbed, sliding down the concrete wall and pressing her knees to her chest. She had stared at that note for hours, hearing Kana’s soft voice in her head over and over again… something she’ll never hear again.

  She stuffed the note into her pocket, standing up and wiping the tears from her eyes. It was a miracle whatever killed Joseph in his sleep hadn’t gotten her, or anyone else for that matter. Stepping into the main room, she saw Sam, Ami, and Lenore at the table. Sam was treating the wound in Ami’s forehead, the wound had already healed, leaving a faint scar. What the hell was she, Naomi thought before sitting down at the table next to Lenore. Ami’s curls had flattened, going from the afro-ponytail to just a waterfall of curls framing her face and loosely tied back.

  Sam finished patching Ami up, putting the supplies in the medical kit. “I… I don’t know what to say.” She muttered. “No one could reasonably survive a dead-on headshot from a gun… but you did. And your blood… it steamed…” Ami shook her head, waving her hand dismissively.

  “I’m just as confused as you are.” Just as she said that, Mike walked out from Joseph’s room. His jacket was missing, the blood on his face smeared. He stood at the head of the table, the shirt labeled Soup N’ Bones hanging loosely off his slim frame. He looked exhausted, barely able to drag himself to the table.

  “Okay… I… w-we, I mean… we need a plan,” He said, “Things last night… They went crazy, more than crazy… we need to focus. We need something– anything!”

  Naomi thought for a moment before suggesting, “Supplies are a good idea. The only good weapons we have are my katana, Ami’s knife, and Joseph’s M16.” Mike nodded.

  “Yeah. An M16 is good, but we need ammo. Jackson’s 1911 is empty.”

  “You didn’t find any ammo on him?”

  “Nope. Wasteful bastard…”

  “So… Supply run?” Ami said, tilting her head. Mike nodded.

  “Yes. We need to go and find weapons. We’re weak without firepower, especially against whatever killed Joseph.” He picked up Jackson’s 1911, holstering it before turning and climbing up the ladder. “Ami. Naomi. Let’s go.”

  Ami quickly stood and followed Mike. Naomi hesitated for a moment before standing too, but was halted by a grip on her arm. It was Sam, holding her father’s M16. Lenore was behind her, their expression less confident. “I’m coming with you.” Sam sternly demanded as she let go of Naomi’s arm.

  Naomi’s eyes widened, “What? No, you shouldn’t. We said we would leave, so we will–”

  “No. I’m coming.” Sam grumbled, the soft, understanding tone replaced with hate and anger. Naomi found it too hard to tell her no. She looked at Lenore, hoping they would do it for her. They were hesitant, but had a flicker of that same look in their eyes that Sam did.

  “God damn it.” Naomi grumbled. “Alright. You two come with. But stay close.” She turned and climbed up the ladder.

  Mike saw Naomi appear from behind the altar, along with Sam and Lenore. He was instantly confused by the sudden inclusion of the two shelter survivors. “Naomi, what the hell? Why are they coming up?”

  “I want to.” Sam interrupted, holding the rifle in both of her hands. “I don’t care what you say, I’m coming with you.” Mike’s eyes widened at the unexpected sternness. He backed down, nodding.

  “Alright. Let’s go– stick together.” He commanded, walking towards the front doors of the church.

  “What about Mr. Fairfield?” Lenore shouted, their androgynous voice echoing slightly in the cathedral. Mike didn’t bother to turn around.

  “Screw him. He tried killing Ami, he can stay strapped to that cot. Hopefully whatever killed Joseph gets him too.”

  The group made their way out of the church into the dark, grey night. Sam shivered slightly, but held firm, holding the rifle forward. Mike led the group down the road, Ami and Naomi on either side of him.

  Ami leaned forward slightly, looking at Mike with a smirk. “Wow. How come you weren’t this confident yesterday?”

  “I… I’m not sure. I don’t know what’s going on.” He grumbled. Ami laughed a little, Naomi holding her own in. “Like, how did you survive that bullet to the head?” Ami opened her mouth to explain, but quickly shut it and looked away.

  “I’d rather not talk about it now. Believe me, I’m just as surprised.” Lenore watched the trio in front. They looked over at Sam to say something, but stopped, seeing the stoic look on her face. She was still holding the rifle like her life depended on it.

  “Sam… I… I am so sorry–”

  “Please shut up, Lenore.” Sam snapped. Lenore’s eyes widened before looking forward again. “The last thing I want right now is sympathy. So, I beg of you, leave me alone.”

  …

  The five stood in front of a small building, the faded sign reading ‘Bob & Mom’s Firearms and Ammunition’.

  “How American. A ‘Mom and Pop’ gun store.” Naomi murmured. Mike walked up to the door, attempting to open it. It was more than locked, likely barricaded.

  “Damn it. Why can’t anything be easy?” Mike groaned, rubbing his eyes. He looked around, trying to see a possible opening. He spotted a window atop the shop, possibly an apartment. “Ami. Can you jump up there?”

  Ami looked up at the window. “Are you stupid?” She asked, looking at him with a raised brow. “That’s at least 18 feet in the air.”

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  “Man, with what I’ve seen, I can’t get an exact read on you–” In a blink, Ami had jumped up higher than normally possible, grappling onto the window and climbing in. “Well shit.”

  “Yeah, I was just messing with you. I’ll get the door open!” She said, disappearing into the apartment.

  Ami looked around the apartment. She couldn’t see the exact color in the darkness, but she naturally assumed it was yellowed with smoking, judging by the cigarette butts piled up on a coaster-sized ash tray laying on the table. The place was less than ideal, but hopefully, she didn’t have to be here for long. She eventually found the owner, slumped over a shotgun. On the wall, a message was scribbled in some substance.

  FUCK YOU.

  “How mature…” Ami whispered to herself as she turned and left the room.

  She eventually found the door leading downstairs and within minutes, she ripped the barricade off the doors, opening them to let Mike and the others in.

  “Did you see the owner in there?” Mike asked. Ami nodded, her smile faltering slightly.

  “Yeah. But it seems he went insane and blew his head off a while ago. Wrote ‘F YOU’ on the wall.” Mike rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  “Of course.”

  The group looked around, gathering ammo and gear. It was then that another problem came up. The guns were stored in a glass case, a small sign next to it saying an alarm would be set off if broken or opened without a key.

  “Hm… Would the alarm still work with the power being out?” Mike asked, looking over at Naomi. She shook her head.

  “It shouldn’t.” She said, raising her hand and gesturing for Sam to walk over. “Sam.”

  “What?” She replied, walking over to the two. Naomi tried grabbing the rifle from Sam, but she pulled it away from her hands. Naomi shrugged and tapped the glass.

  “Break that.” She said. Sam nodded, raising the stock of the gun and slamming it against the glass. It cracked greatly. Then she rammed the glass again, it eventually gave way, shattering and spraying small shards against the ground. “I knew it wouldn’t–”

  BEEP BEEP BEEP.

  Everyone covered their ears as the alarm blared loudly. “Son of a bitch!” Mike yelled, his head rattling with each sound of the alarm. It echoed throughout the night, certainly catching the attention of any Hellspawn in Beauview. Naomi tried tracking the sound through the chaos. She found the intercom, unsheathing her katana and stabbing it. The alarm eventually faded and whirred down, silence replacing the loud beeping.

  Everyone took a deep breath, relaxing for a moment before multiple screeches echoed outside. “Oh no.” Mike said, standing up. Through the open doorway, he could see dozens of Hellspawns rushing towards the gun store. He stood in fear, the sheer amount of the demonic creatures freezing him. But, in a rush of adrenaline, he rushed over, grabbing a Spas-12 and yelling over his shoulder: “THEY’RE COMING!!”

  The group ran outside, Naomi and Ami readying their blades. As soon as the swarms were in range, they started slicing anything within range. Limbs and heads went flying, coating the two in gallons of blood.

  Mike took aim, blasting a handful that managed to slip through the two blade users. His ears rung with each shot, his vision blurring and fading with overexertion. Occasionally, he would get slashed by a Hellspawn, snapping him back to reality and keeping him conscious a little longer.

  Mike turned his head as he saw a spray of bullets on the rest of the Hellspawns. Sam had climbed atop a wrecked car, using her father’s rifle and screaming as she wiped out the creatures. Naomi watched in subtle awe, her chest heaving from exhaustion.

  After the last Hellspawn fell, the rifle clicked, signaling it was out of ammo. Sam’s voice went hoarse, and after the rifle fell weakly from her hands, she collapsed on the roof of the car. Mike and Naomi fell too, gasping for air. Mike rubbed his face, feeling the near scorching Hellspawn blood on his face. It realistically would be burning his skin off, but he was so cold, it almost felt good.

  Lenore, having watched everything from inside the store, quickly went to check on Sam. “Sam! Are you okay?!”

  “Yes…” She weakly said between deep breaths, her hand on her chest. “I feel better now…”

  Mike opened his eyes, seeing Ami kneeling next to him. “You look like crap.” She joked. He chuckled, leaning up.

  “I feel worse than I look.” He murmured.

  Just as the group were recovering, a loud rumble shook the ground. Everyone weakly stood, thinking it to be another swarm of Hellspawns. Instead, a beam of fire shot from the ground and to the sky. In it the silhouette of a man, over six and a half feet tall, emerged. When the fire calmed, the man was revealed. He had long black hair, hooded eyes, and two scars; one noticeably faded around his neck and one, seemingly more recent, on his left eye.

  “Is this what I have been hearing so much about?” He grumbled, his voice a low, raspy snarl. “This is the group that has killed a portion of my army?! You all are pathetic!”

  “Who're you?!” Mike yelled. The man narrowed his eyes, his left one closing from being naturally half-lidded.

  “I am Lucifer. You all call me ‘Satan’, such an idiotic name.” He grumbled. He looked over at Ami, seeing the familiar face. “You. I recognize you. You were in the midst of corruption… yet you live.”

  Ami’s eyes were wide with crazy, staring at Lucifer almost with seething anger. “I recognize you too. You were watching as I pleaded– cried for help!” Suddenly, she charged at him, pulling her knife out. She leaped at him, ready to stab him in the face. But her attack was met by a grab to the throat from Lucifer before being tossed aside.

  Naomi quickly rushed in, slashing at him. He dodged, striking her in the back of the neck and knocking her out.

  Sam reloaded the rifle, aiming at Lucifer. As soon as he looked at her, she opened fire. Razor wire rose from the ground, forming a wall that shielded Lucifer from the bullets. After a few seconds, a line of barbed wire wrapped around Sam’s arm, squeezing it tightly and contorting it in a jagged angle. She let out a pained scream, falling to the ground and holding her wounded arm.

  Mike watched in fear. Possibly the strongest members of this group were laid out within 5 minutes. Lucifer brushed the dust off of his clothing, the dark medieval garb rustling.

  “Such a display. I almost pity you, humanity.” He murmured, slowly walking over to Mike. “You… I will be charitable and make your death humane.”

  “Hey!” Ami called out from behind Lucifer. He turned, eyes widening slightly. Ami was hunched over, her curls covering her face. Steam emitted from her form, which looked more rigid and was shaking. She looked up, her eyes wide with insanity. The tear streams that adorned her cheeks now replaced with wriggling barbed wire that seemed like veins. Her knife was gone, but her hands seemed to meld into her large arm cuffs, forming claws.

  She roared, leaping at Lucifer, scratching at him. She successfully struck his face, slashing his cheek and drawing a pained yell from him. Landing on her feet like a cat, she readied another strike, but as she leapt through the air, Lucifer wound his fist back and punched Ami, sending her flying towards Mike. He fell to the ground, his arms wrapping around her to try and catch her, but the kinetic energy sent him tumbling back.

  “Damn it!” Lucifer yelled, rubbing the fresh scratch with his hand and looking down at it, the blood dripping from his palm. He looked up at them, his face contorted in a snarl. “I will return, Smith! You have six months before I bestow my domain unto this world and take it from humanity! We will see if you can give humanity a second chance then.” Another beam of fire shot up, signaling Lucifer’s exit.

  Mike sat up, Ami unconscious in his arms. He watched as the barbed wire in her face faded and the inky tear streams formed again. He hesitantly cupped her cheek, wiping some of the Hellspawn blood from it with his thumb.

  “Six months,” he murmured. “Six months…”