Chapter 5...
'The Prince Of Clacton'

Previously:

The Creation

How To Get A Head In Clacton

Plain Crazy

Stealin' Stones and Tryin' to Break Bones

It is, as always, in the replies!
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 17:10, 6 replies, latest was 16 years ago)

The Prince of Clacton
A tall, dark figure stood on the sea shore, looking out across the huge expanse of the North Sea. The figure, male as it was, was shrouded by a huge dark cloak pulled right above his ears, a great mane of dark hair whipped up and around his head, stark and black against the grey and pallid Essex sky. His hands were shoved deep in to the pockets of his dark jeans, which clad muscular legs that sat atop well-heeled leather boots. His shoulders, broad and powerful, are shaking uncontrollably.

He lied.

A particularly strong gust of wind whips all of the hair from the strangers face. His skin is blotched and red, colouring a face that is both angry and pained, vengeful and angelic. As he mutters to himself, we can see that his mouth is full of what looks like too many teeth, guarding a blackened tongue. His nostrils flare, allowing great puffs of condensation to fly from them with every breath. His eyes, wide and unblinking, are dark. There is no pupil, just a tiny pinprick of red in a sea of black.

The fucker lied!
As thunder rumbled overhead, he played over and over again the moment in his mind. “Sure,” he tried to rationalise with himself, “I’ve done some bad things of late. I’ve stared wars (and ended them, come to that), I’ve tortured, maimed, tormented, burned, twisted, ripped, bitten and bled, but I’ve never killed before. And that moment... That moment that... It came off... “

His head snapped up and his eyes swam in to focus. He remembered, in that moment, waiting in the darkness, and watching as the girl stepped out of the shop, hanging back as she turned and locked the door behind her. A book shop, he noticed, with a colourful display of Children’s books in the window. The night was beginning to draw in, and even though rain was lashing at the pavement, the girl radiated a happy innocence. He’d followed her, keeping a safe distance. She’d stopped opposite an alleyway, and stood there fishing in a handbag. He saw a brief spark of flame. Her face was lit briefly as she breathed her cigarette in to life, and he had pounced.

And she had fought – oh how she had fought. She had delivered a swift and destructive kick to his nether regions, she had sprayed him with what tasted like Tabasco sauce, she had scratched and kicked and punched at him. Ultimately, though, he was too strong for her. He pinned her against a wall, wrapping his hand around her mouth to give them some quiet time together. He held her in place with his knees and, when he saw the terror building to bursting point in her eyes, he had removed his hand from her mouth, and gripped either side of her head.

“No.” She’d said. “No, please...”

But it was too late. He’d started his job. He tightened his grip, flexed his muscles, and pulled. He tried to ignore the little screams that fought their way out of her throat. He blocked out the tight little gurgles, and the audible crack as her neck broke. And still he pulled. He looked away as her eyes widened as the pain became white for her. He heard the twang as her spinal cord frayed, twisted, and finally snapped. He felt the extra weight in his hands as her body sagged, and still he pulled. He heard the tear as her skin started to give way, and saw the first ooze of blood escape the wound. And, finally, with a gruesome sucking noise, the head of Jennifer Spry was pried from her shoulders.

His world went, briefly, red as the blood pumped out of her neck, showering him in crimson rain. He held her head in his hands, looking in to her terrified eyes. He placed it carefully in to a bag, and then disappeared in to the night.

~~

He had done what was asked of him. He had fulfilled his part of the contract. And yet, on placing the head in the exact place specified, there had been no bright lights. There had been no chorus of angels. There had been no pearly gate, no glorious return, no...

Nothing. There had been nothing.

The dark figure turned and walked away. He had considered killing himself then and there, he had considered just filling his pockets with rocks and walking in to the sea. But he knew that wouldn’t work. So he returned to the Palms Guest House. He had to have a plan, an escape route.

He opened the door.

“Ah, good evening Mr. Reficul.” A small but wide old lady bustled along the corridor to him. “Have you had a nice day?”
“As well as can be expected. Thank you, Mrs. Harvey.”

“Good. Good. There’s some nasty types around these days, you can’t be too careful.”

He allowed himself a grin.

“I think,” he said “that I’d be OK.”

She gave him a long look.

“Well,” she said “We’re having tea in fifteen minutes, Mrs. Sampson has come over and Mr. George from number Nineteen has said he’ll bring his guitar along.”

“I think I will pass, Mrs. Harvey.” he said “As you said, it’s been a nice day, but I’d like to rest now.”

“As you will, Mr. Reficul, as you will.”

She watched him walk up the stairs. “Strange fellow.” She muttered to herself, before scurrying away once more in to the recesses of the house.

~~

He felt good to be alone. He peeled off his jacket, revealing a taut and muscular body. He unbuckled his belt and pulled off his jeans, showing similarly muscular legs. He stood in front of his mirror, naked, and looked upon himself.

His skin appeared as if it was crawling, becoming denser. Around the thighs and buttocks it was thickening, growing hair. It became a thick hide, like that of a buffalo. The calves elongated, the feet pointing until they became cloven hooves. The lines between the muscles on his chest deepened, the skin reddened, and his fingers sprouted claws on their ends. His incisor teeth began sprouting from his lips, while two horns forced their way out of his forehead. Finally, two giant, leathery wings unfolded from his back, with creaks and groans accompanying their deployment.

Lucifer felt much better now. He turned this way and that, and then with a quick flick of his wings he took off. And hit the ceiling.

A second later he was on the floor again, cursing and rubbing his head. He thought his ears were ringing, until he realised that it was the telephone. Gingerly, he picked it up.

“Hello?” He managed, although his extended teeth made it sound altogether different.

No answer. Just as he was about to replace the handset in his cradle, there was an electric crackling. He tried to pull the phone from his ear, to find that he couldn’t. His arm was jammed there. The crackling intensified, and he could feel it surging in to his body, he could see sparks jumping from limb to limb.

“Dear oh dear.” Said a voice “Who’s been a naughty boy then, Lucy?”

Oh no. Not him. Anyone but him.

“Dunno who you’re talking about!” He managed.
“Come now, Lucy, of course you do. Who else would be calling? I think it’s time you and I had a little word, don’t you?”

“Mnng!” said Lucifer, incapable of speech now.

“Great!” said the voice “I’ll bring you over.”

Lucifer felt a feeling like he was being stretched very tall and being squashed very small all at the same time. And then, with a little spark of light, he disappeared down the telephone.

And that was how Lucifer found God.
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 17:11, Reply)

excellent!
*clicks even though it won't do anything*
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 17:18, Reply)

ooh I love it!
And feel slightly silly I didnt get the Reficul thing :(
( TGB checking Off Topic is still shit at, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 17:48, Reply)

this would all make
fucking great telly!
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 18:49, Reply)

Brilliant!
You truly are a man of many talents.
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 18:53, Reply)

Without sounding too arse kissy
Just how bored are you at work if you can come up with things like this? Or do you plan them out on breaks and type them up at work?

Curious minds and all that.
( fuck shit up the best you never had, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 21:46, Reply)