Drake Maverick vs. Brock Lesnar

 

Demon Axe, Chapter 10

Building a campfire in the grassy arena wasn’t hard to do considering so many victims left behind their pot lighters during the slaughter. The foursome could have just as easily crawled inside the Demon Axe tour van and ran the heater, but who wanted to be inside that beat up piece of shit anyways? The cackling flames in the early morning chill felt good against the shaking hands of Daniel Mercer, as well as his newfound friends in the form of Johnny Vega, Sonia Marquez, and Raven Triscloud. The Demon Axe microphone sat beside Daniel like it was his own child.

“So, Mr. Lord of the Pit, what do we do now? Do we hunt this Roger asshole down or what?” asked Johnny, his fists tightening at the thought of getting his hands on that self-righteous lunatic.

“Trust me, Johnny boy, there’s nothing I’d love more than to scream a few lines in his face. I might let you power bomb him a few times first. Maybe Sonia can lock him in a triangle choke with those long legs of hers. But you know what? Roger Zee isn’t going to make himself easy to find. You want to know why it took a long time to find Bin Laden? Because it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Or a nun a porn convention. Or a bloody coat hanger in a catholic church. Or a…”

Raven cut off Daniel’s dialogue with, “Okay, we get it. Roger is hard to find. It’s not like we have a GPS signal on him or anything like that. And I shudder to think about waiting for him to make another attack.”

“Wait a minute…” said Daniel like a light bulb was going off in his mind. “Yeah! Yeah, that’s it! I’ve got the microphone! Johnny and Sonia know how to wrestle! I say we put on a fucking show, baby!” The two wrestlers cheered with fists raised to the sky.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second!” said Raven while waving her arms around defensively. “Daniel, you can’t actually be that dumb, can you? Yes, your microphone has these supernatural powers that can subdue pretty much anybody, but you’re talking about luring Roger Zee out in the open, basically daring him to attack. You’re inviting all of these people to see a show and they’re going to be victims! Do you not see what the hell it is you’re suggesting, Daniel? You’re using your own audience as fodder! I spent all of this time trying to convince you that the death of your band mates wasn’t your fault. If you put on this show in an attempt to lure out Roger, those deaths WILL be on your head! Is that what you want?”

“It wouldn’t matter if it was a Demon Axe show or a fucking Justin Bieber abortion,” said Johnny. “Roger is going to attack whether Daniel’s involved or not. It could be people on a subway, people at a football game, or even a fucking strip club, for god’s sake. If Daniel puts on a show somewhere, at least we’ll be there to stop this Dungeons & Dragons douche bag before he starts slashing shit to pieces.”

“He’s blunt, but he’s got a point,” said Sonia with a wink.

“How the hell is he going to put on a concert when all of his Demon Axe buddies are dead?! He can’t just scream into a microphone and expect people to dance around like puppets! He needs a guitarist! He needs a bass player! He needs a drummer! And none of those people can be imaginary this time!” said a frustrated Raven. In her mind, this debate shouldn’t even have been happening. It was just a case of testosterone (even on Sonia’s side) versus common sense.

Daniel had a shit-eating grin on his face when he said, “I think I might know some guys who will fill those roles. The night of the concert, there were two other bands that played before Demon Axe. One of them was an LGBT-themed band called Juice (what else are you going to call it?) and the other was a Muslim-themed band called I Am Death (again, what else are you going to call it?). I think some of those guys would be happy to play a few new hits.”

Raven laughed sarcastically and after being asked by Daniel what was so funny, she said, “Oh, that’s fucking rich! You’re going to ask two heavy metal bands who are probably more traumatized than you are right now if they want to be bait for Roger Zee. They’ve gone through enough shit already and now you’re going to put them through an even bigger shit storm. Were they even around during the attack or did they leave before it could happen?”

“Those guys are like brothers and sisters to me!” snapped Daniel. “I gave them a chance to open for me when nobody else would! They’ve done so much to help me in my career that this was the best way I could pay them back! If Juice and I Am Death decide to help me with my plan, I’ll make sure they get all the star power they can handle. Their careers are going to skyrocket after this show. All the hateful motherfuckers out there who harass them on Twitter and in public are going to have to eat their words like a big old turd sandwich! What do you think about that, Raven-Pie?!”

Raven held up a wagging finger and said, “First of all, don’t call me Raven-Pie. I’m not your granddaughter or your wife. And second of all, if you’re going to use your so-called brothers and sisters are cannon fodder, make sure they know what the fuck it is they’re signing up for. Otherwise, they’re never going to trust you again and they’ll fade back into obscurity. But I’m pretty sure that once they figure out what the hell is going on, they’re going to tell you to take your star power and shove it up your ass.”

“Do you want to catch this motherfucker or not?!” shouted Daniel. “Roger Zee is your project, Raven! He’s a product of your society whether you want to admit it or not! I’m handing him to you on a silver platter and you won’t even jump at the opportunity! And here I thought that blade you carry in your boot was for fighting the good fight! Turns out you’re just chopping onions! Either that or you really are crying about bullshit!”

Raven sighed and stood up before starting her way back to the portal. When asked where she was going by Daniel, she looked at him sternly and said, “If you think sacrificing a bunch of innocent people is going to get you what you want, then obviously I can’t stop you. Hell, your wrestler friends seem to be onboard with it and they could probably pile-drive my ass if I tried to stop you. Just know this: the next time your brain goes numb from the trauma you endure, don’t bother using that EMDR trick I showed you. I want you to live with that pain for the rest of your miserable life. I’m going back to the elven world to tell my king about how he wasted a perfectly good magic spell on you. I’m sure it’ll break his heart, but I’m telling him anyways. Goodbye, Daniel. I hope your plan is worth it.”

Raven opened the portal to the elven world underneath the statue of King Arthur Triscloud and hopped through without protest from her other three former cohorts. Daniel was left with a solemn expression on his face, as if the elf’s words stung his heart worse than any slash from Roger’s machete. Just when the Lord of the Pit was going to sink into depressive quicksand…

“Man, who gives a shit what she thinks?!” roared Johnny. “If she wants to go back home to daddy and whine until the apocalypse, then we don’t need her ass anyways! Trust me, Daniel, you’ve got this. Sonia and I will be bouncers at your concert if that’s what you want. The minute Roger shows up with that sick-looking blade of his, we’ll hold him still while you spit some lines in his face. And then all of your loyal fans can body surf his ass onstage so that you can take the world’s biggest dump on his chest. Doesn’t that sound like a plan?”

Daniel still had a contemplative expression on his face and refused to answer. Sonia snapped him out of it when she reached over and lovingly stroked the back of his hand. “Hey, rock god. Johnny asked you a question. Are you going to answer it or are you going to sit there and fantasize about your elf girlfriend all day?”

“She’s just a friend, Sonia. At least she was,” murmured Daniel.

“Yeah, and I’m your mother,” said Sonia sarcastically before scooting next to him and placing her thick arm around his shoulders. It wasn’t as tender as Raven’s, but it would have to do. “Raven doesn’t want to see the bigger picture here. Of course Roger is going to attack whoever the hell he wants. He’s going to keep doing it until his wing-nut beliefs are satisfied. Wouldn’t you at least like to see him before he pulls this shit again?”

Daniel’s expression changed from bitter disappointment to enraged confidence. His eyebrows were furrowed, his frown was intimidating, and his muscles tensed. “Let’s do this shit! I’ll even send Roger’s chopped off dick and balls to Raven as a Valentine’s Day present.” He then looked sexily at Sonia and said, “Or maybe I’ll give them to someone even more special.”

“Oh, Daniel!” said Sonia as she kissed Daniel on his cheek and patted him on the back. “Come on, Johnny, let’s go.”

Sitting cross-legged, the giant wrestler looked down at his lap and said, “You know I would, but I can’t stand up right now.”

“TMI, Johnny! TMI!” shouted Sonia. Daniel on the other hand was laughing his ass off.

Demon Axe, Chapter 9

“Daniel! March your butt right back here! Now! Open your goddamn ears for the first time in your life! Get back here, you big baby! Come on! Move it!” None of these energetic threats from Raven could slow down the clomping thuds of Daniel Mercer’s boots. Determined that his newfound “weapon” was still just at toy, the rock god marched back to the portal to the “real world”.

“You can run away all you want to, but Roger is eventually going to hunt your ass down!” shouted Raven, who was floating through the portal space with him. “And then what will you do? Are you just going to give up? Are you going to kneel before the same son of a bitch who murdered your friends in cold blood?!”

Daniel was more distracted by his own angry thoughts than he was by the colors and wavelengths of the portal world. Raven’s words snapped him out of it and earned her a vicious glare from a stone face. “Be angry all you want!” she said. “But if you don’t channel that anger towards bringing justice to your friends and your audience, then you’re just a heavy metal hypocrite.”

“You want to know what a real hypocrite is, Raven?!” roared Daniel. “A hypocrite is someone who has an entire army of soldiers to hunt down one guy, yet still claims to be powerless to do anything about it! Your father is a typical politician: full of empty promises and full of bullshit! Who the hell voted for him to be king?! Seriously, what is he doing with all of those soldiers?! Are they just a bunch of paper-pushers with medieval weapons?!”

The allies were so busy bickering that they failed to realize that they had been shot out of the portal and onto the grassy field of the outdoor arena a.k.a. “the real world”. They stood back up (without each other to lean on) and dusted the grass blades and dirt off of their clothes.

Raven shoved her finger in Daniel’s face and said, “Listen to me, you fucking jerk! I don’t ever want to hear you talk about my father like that again! Some things are out of his control, but he knows exactly what he’s doing by sending you out to fight Roger Zee. Whether you like it or not, you represent this human world. You have its entire weight on your shoulders. If you humans don’t learn to help yourselves, then nobody else can help you either. This is my father’s way of teaching you pathetic humans self-reliance! If you can update your fucking Twitter page, you can goddamn jolly-well learn to catch a terrorist!”

Daniel leaned closer to Raven so that they were face-to-face and said in a hushed, yet angry tone, “There’s a huge difference between self-reliance and complete abandonment. Not only is Roger Zee a product of YOUR society, but the only thing I have to fight him with is…” He swung his “magical” axe microphone in the air and sprinkled more gold dust around. “Tell me how any of this is supposed to make sense!”

“When was the last time any tragedy in this world made sense?” asked Raven rhetorically. “When was the last time that a zealot thought rationally about what he or she was doing? Sometimes things don’t make sense at first, Daniel. Sometimes the best answer to all of this is there are just too many assholes out there. But you…you make more sense than a lot of people from your culture, and that’s saying a lot given your affinity for drugs and alcohol.”

“Then riddle me this, Batman,” said Daniel. “How exactly is a stage prop supposed to slash the head off of someone who can do the same thing to me with just a flick of his fucking wrist?”

“That’s the million dollar question, Mr. Lord of the Pit!” said a gravelly, demonic voice only a few feet away from the conversers. Daniel and Raven looked at each other fearfully and gulped saliva before slowly turning their necks to see that the voice belonged to an enslaved Johnny Vega, his partner Sonia Marquez flanking him. They stood there with arms folded, muscles thumping, veins protruding, eyes glowing, and teeth bared.

Raven took notice of the crowns of thorns on the assailants’ heads. “These wrestlers don’t know what they’re doing. The Order of the Spider once used those crowns to glean information from prisoners. Roger has found a way to use them for complete mind control.”

Daniel patted Raven on the back and said, “Well, Mrs. Warrior Princess, this is your cue then. You’re the only one between the two of us with an actual weapon, so why don’t you just…”

Raven was knocked backwards so far that she rolled across the grass field, all because of a flying martial arts kick from Sonia Marquez, who proceeded to crack her knuckles after such an accomplishment. Daniel trembled as he watched his ally holding her stomach and gasping desperately for air. Sonia mockingly patted him on the shoulder and said in a succubus-like voice, “Well, what are you waiting for, honey-bunny? Why don’t you try that new weapon of yours on me? I promise I won’t bite…hard!”

Daniel looked down at his “toy” and gripped the handle with a warrior’s resolve. His trembling of fear turned to trembling of anger. He glared with deadliness into Sonia’s demonic eyes and said, “Die, you motherfucker, die!” With reckless abandon, he hacked and slashed with his magical axe like a battle-hungry berserker. He slashed at her neck, arms, ribs, and legs while screaming every swear word imaginable until his veins burst like dynamite sticks. By the time his vicious attack was over, he doubled over in exhaustion and wheezed hard while spitting acidic bile onto the grass.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to be nice to your toys?” said Sonia, who didn’t have a single scratch on her, not even a small bruise of sorts. She stood with her arms folded and her smile arrogant. Daniel on the other hand whimpered so gently that Johnny Vega couldn’t help but give him a “comforting” shoulder squeeze.

“It’s alright, you big baby girl,” said Johnny in a mocking bass voice. “It’s not your fault that you hit like a two-year-old…or cry like one. You probably should have brought a gun with you of some kind. But then again, those are big boy toys and you’re just a little bitty baby. Maybe you should have one of those rifles with a wooden cork at the end of it.”

Sonia and Johnny were laughing it up in their monstrous voices while Raven was squirming on the ground like a snail, trying to get back into this battle, but hurting badly. She was the only one who had true fighting experience and she was easily vanquished. Daniel didn’t think he had a chance in the world. To him, this was truly a shitty way to die. He didn’t know what the minions were going to do to him, but it probably would have involved a shattered skull or a snapped spinal cord. Hearing them laugh about it brought angry tears to Daniel’s eyes.

The Lord of the Pit grit his teeth hard as he thought about Roger secretly laughing about slaughtering his band mates. The trauma of their severed heads came rushing back to him, the voices blaming him for being a failure and running away in cowardice. His adrenaline was heating up like molten steel. His muscles twitched and ached. His heart felt like a bomb vest ready to explode. With one final outburst, Daniel yelled, “Shut the fuck up!” into the microphone like the true heavy metal god he was.

The sound waves of the throaty growl knocked Sonia and Johnny back like human cannonballs. Their crowns of thorns showed small cracks in them as well. Everybody on that battlefield good or evil showed shock on their faces with wide eyes and deep breaths. “Holy shit,” said Daniel softly.

The initial shock wore off and was replaced with vitriolic, passionate fire from the Lord of the Pit. Instead of imagining his band mates as floating heads, he imagined them as full bodies, in their costumes and masks, playing behind him like they were at a concert. Vulture Man strummed his guitar like a wild motherfucker. Pig Man slapped his bass guitar like a pimp who was owed money. G-Pac bashed the drums and symbols with enough anger to put dents into them.

“Alright, motherfuckers!” the Lord of the Pit shouted into the microphone yet again. “You want a battle? Here’s a war!” That last word was prolonged with a raspy roar as he imagined the grinding music in the background. The louder Daniel yelled, the tighter everybody around him gripped their ears in pain. He wasn’t even singing a real song; it was just a firestorm of hateful, disgusting swear words from “cocksucker” to “motherfucker” to “prison bitch” to “Jesus Christ”.

The sound waves from the microphone blew past everyone like a hurricane and smashed their eardrums like G-Pac on his kit. The crowns of thorns formed more cracks. And more. And more. Then the artifacts of control shattered like glass and blew away in the heavy metal tornado. Johnny and Sonia’s heads were bleeding, but not profusely and they were still awake. Raven was shaking her ears with her fingers, trying to get the buzzing out. The Lord of the Pit looked around at what he had done and dropped his microphone in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he said.