In Laymon's Terms

Greg hung there for a second, long enough for Mike and Mandy to realize most of his face was now splattered on the glass, inches in front of them. Greg slowly began to slide down the window. He left a trail of blood and brains and bone.

Mandy lost it. She screamed and pounded her fists against the glass.

Mike tried to pull her away.

Too late. The man and his amazons had spotted them and were running toward the door.

5.

“Run!” He tugged her arm, hard. They both took off for the garden.

He had to restrain himself from running away from her. Running was all he wanted to do.

Part of him screamed: Let her take care of herself.

He took her hand. They ran to the edge of the garden and looked over the hill, to the steep drop to the beach.

“We have to jump,” Mandy said.

Mike hesitated. “It’ll be a long roll. Lots of rocks and stuff.”

She shook her head. “Worse than guns and swords?”

She was right. They had no choice. He took a tighter grip on her hand.

She was jerked violently away.

Mike spun around. One of the amazons held Mandy with an arm (a bloody arm) around her throat and the tip of a short sword at her cheek. The other women were almost there.

How did they get here so fast? He realized the woman holding Mandy was not part of the crew they had seen inside the ballroom. They must’ve been outside the house.

“Mandy!”

“Run, go!” she said before her air was cut off by the muscular red arm.

And he did want to run, to roll down that hill and try to escape across the beach.

Instead, he took a halting step toward her.

Strong arms grabbed him. His throat was squeezed hard. He could feel wetness and smelled a metallic odor. Blood. He couldn’t turn his head. The tip of a sword touched his face and pierced the soft skin.

Great. I lose my virginity and get killed on the same night.

But the sword didn’t slice any deeper. Not yet.

He heard the amazon’s breath, steady and slow.

The tip of the sword was removed from his cheek and was replaced by a strange sensation.

She’s licking me. She’s licking the blood off my cheek.

Mike tried to squirm free. That only resulted in the arm circling his neck even tighter, choking him.

“There you are.”

The naked man stepped between Mike and Mandy. He still held the twin .45s. He was still erect.

He stroked Mandy’s cheek with the barrel of the same gun he’d used on the breast of the amazon inside the house. It left of smear of blood on her face.

“Amanda, Amanda,” he said. “Our long lost child. We’ve come to take you home.”

Mike stared at them in disbelief.

She knew him? This maniac who had just shot their friend?

“Greta, bring her back to us.”

The amazon grabbed Mandy’s sweater and ripped it from the collar to her waist, then tossed it aside. She then jerked the skirt down Mandy’s legs and lifted her out of it.

Mandy didn’t struggle. She looked at the ground.

“Ladies,” he said, looking at two of the amazons. “Paint her.”

Greta released Mandy. The other two caressed their own bodies then rubbed those hands across Mandy’s face, breasts, and legs, smearing her with wide swaths of crimson.

When they finished, Mandy was motionless, arms at her sides, eyes cast downward.

“You have come back to us at the perfect moment,” he said.

His eyes were wide and unfocused, like those of a person burning up with fever.

“It is almost time. We have much work to complete. We must bring forth the Red Kingdom, for, soon, Our Nameless Lord returns to this veil.”

A sigh came from the amazon holding Mike.

“So you see, Amanda, we could not abandon you now, so close to Ascendance.”

He stepped close enough to lay his lips against her cheek. Mike saw his massive penis brush against her stomach. He felt jealousy rise in his gut.

The man softly kissed Mandy’s face. “We forgive you.”

He leaned back, presumably to drink in her enormous relief at his generosity.

Instead, she spit in his face.

With her saliva dripping down his shocked face, Mandy said, “Fuck you, Roger.”

He gasped. Greta grabbed her again and Mandy tried a kick at Roger’s balls. He danced back and she missed.

She snarled at him.

Roger pointed one of his guns at her. “Ares!” he shouted. “I am High Priest Ares.”

Mandy laughed. “You’re a porno actor who couldn’t get work once every producer figured out you couldn’t get it up unless you were hurting somebody.”

They all looked at Roger’s shriveling erection.

“Even the junkies stopped doing scenes with you. And those chicks would fuck a dead guy for a fix.”

Roger smashed the barrel of the gun across her mouth. Mike saw a tooth fly out, along with a lot of blood.

But Mandy was smiling when she looked at Roger. Her remaining teeth were red and blood dripped from her lower lip. “Better than Viagra,” she said.

Roger’s cock was hard again. Now he smiled.