kAlts of Beulah: C4-C6

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“CUNT! GET OUT CUNT!” a dangerous voice barked drooling from behind her…

“Look

the fuck

who it fucking is…

CUNT.”

The man spat his venomous word attack at Blake and then seamlessly flowed into the action of physically spitting his poisonous phlegm, which she ducked with a nonchalant ease as she spun on her boot heels to knowingly face the voice and — who awaited her.

“Nooobooo,” she said, as disgustedly annoyed as it is verbally possible to enunciate in conjunction with a deadly sneer; her lip flexed, a tooth flashed, the physical manifestation of an internal psychic shrug of acceptance. She had taken too long.

She had wanted to avoid this encounter...

“That’s Captain Nobodaddy” he said with his MODDED flesh and soulless eyes prowling menacingly. “Thanks to you, Blake,” he gloated, snake eyes flitting left right checking in on his personal guard of elite Voidz agents who surround him like a child in a manger; alert, ready for action or orders from the monstrous Messiah.

“Relax everybody! Capt. Nobodaddy is here!” Blake mocked bringing her hands to her mouth projecting her voice to the imaginary pantomime audience that was the squadron of Voidz & Jan Lee. “The cavalry is here…Oh wait…what’s that?” Bringing her hand to her ear… “oh yeah that's it…you're too cunting late. As usual, they're fucking dead already…you goon.”

Nobodaddy smiled with hate. “Ah Blake Fatel the fallen star who betrayed The Order of the Voidz and lost her mind to the Future That Never Comes and the kAlts of BEULAH…Still searching for Albion?” His laugh the sound of a robot lizard scuttled and clicked; his tech implants blinking and surging around his skull with authoritarian excitement. His cock got hard. His bionic eye extended three levels, a tank muzzle preparing to fire.

“Don’t worry NoBoo” she said staring at the impression of his erect penis through his pants. “I’m sure you can get an implant extension for that too”.

Nobodaddy ceased laughing with a full stop.

“Oh I was so sad to hear about your family Blake” Nobodaddy said beaming hate. Nobodaddy’s implanted hydraulics, gears and bio digital weaponry audibly stirred as he gained a foot in height, his notorious malevolent ego hijacking the room, which noticeably darkened as his growing mass blocked the light as he loomed up over Blake; an evil jack in the box salivating, breeding violence. The red flag and the bull. Blake stepped and dodged psychically, she was not ready for this engagement.

Blake said nothing.

“Martyrs” Nobodaddy stabbed again,  waving the red flag, twisting the knife, trying to pull Blake’s internal organs out one by one, linked in a chain like sausages with the ultimate trophy to plop out last but not least; her heart.

"Martyrs?" said Blake.

“Such loyal and devoted PIL-Grims Crossing the Abyss! Such a treacherous process. I do hear the End-Chanted state is very blissful. Tell me — have they entered the Garden yet? Or is Urizen still able to find a use for their mindless bodies now they have received the Rapeture.

Everybody in the morgue froze.

      ***

       C5

Throats held choking tight. Unable to breathe or swallow. Baying wild wolves ready to fight to feed. Blake never broke the death stare with Nobodaddy for one moment. Her crimson rage forced red capillaries to erupt, her eyes bleeding war; reversed tears threatening her stoic brace. Blake shook microscopically. She began to collapse like a demolition of towers.

Instinct.

Her hand came to rest on her pistol.

Strength. Order. Control.

Restoration.

For now. 

The two once upon a time old friends considered how to kill one another in the most efficient way possible. By the Law of Libertalia a duel could be offered as they had witnesses. Blake reached inside her trench coat. The gang of Voidz fizzed and whirled whipping out their polished and modded Peacemakers pistols training the ends of their barrels point blank at Blake's head.  A crown of bullets hung in the air around her private detective occult junky head; paused. Metallic jiggle jangling clicking snaps pinged, echoing off the walls, ceiling, and floors as testosterone jizzing cocks and cunts waited for the last stroke. Everyone got wet and ready for a little death.

The submarine smile sprung. Nobodaddy shrank, the light crept back. “Boys & girls, a woman likes a little foreplay before you fuck her” she said winking at all the gun barrels. “Well most of the time anyway… Fag?” Blake pulled out Libertalia’s finest home grown smokes: ‘Naughties’ Antarctica Primes finest home grown tobacco; laced with cosmic powders and smooth slow release amphetamine. Automatically the goons lowered and holstered their guns. Broke formation, transforming into lost puppies wanting momma to lick their heads and suck her tits.

“Hungry, aren’t you”. She mothered “ What’s the matter the Voidz got you on rations again…you’re starved…my poor babies” She found Nobodaddy’s death stare. “You need to get them laid and buzzed, they’re wound too tight”.

"That's how I like my soldiers...."

“Soldiers?”

One by one the Voidz agents bounded up to Blake and pulled crisp white fags like rabbits from hats. Smiles and nods and embarrassed mumbled greetings “Good to see you Blake” “Cheers Blake” Sorry about all this, you understand” “It's just things ain’t the same since you left”. "Since...." They all stopped and looked back at Nobodaddy.

Blake stood surrounded by the pack. Nobodaddy stood alone. Abandoned by his troops. His bionic and organic sensors eviscerating the traitors. His cock lost power. His head boiling steam out his MOD bat ears mingled with the cool slow fog of the fags which settled in therapeutically over their shoulders and down to their feet and back up as shivers along the vertebra. The narcotics performing cunnilingus upon the endorphin centres of their brains and everyone got high; standing statuesque, framed like baroque visitors to a mutant birth.

                                                              ***

                                                              C6

Blake sucked hard and impossibly long finishing her fag flicking it to the floor and checked the time on her old-fashioned artefact from the old Pre-Albion world “tick tick tick OH MY” she patronised insultingly “is that the time, must dash”.

“You better not have anything to do with this Blake, by Urizen I’ll kill you myself”

The squadron all stamped their feet and saluted “Hail Urizen” performing the ritual of obedience; which was a closed fist brought up to the right side temple.

“Fuck Urizen” Blake muttered for all to hear as she strode past Nobodaddy. Now she was the matador. She manoeuvred herself and the red flag around Nobodaddy. No-one blinked. As she stood in the doorway she said goodbye to her late friend. Setting the intention of revenge and justice. Nobodaddy slid into view between the dead and the living. Nobodaddy exists somewhere in-between Blake noted to herself, adding an appendix to her solemn oath: KILL Nobodaddy!  

Finding herself speaking without thinking “Your duty is to teach the next generation of Voidz how to think for themselves. To be independent and keep the peace between the kAlts. Not build an army of drones for the fourth Reich”. Blake made one step forward and leaned in towards Nobodaddy to deliver her parting words with all the vitriol of a swift combat jab. A lancing sword breaks into the bulls flesh. Showing all her teeth as she spoke injecting her cursed words directly into the fascist's inhuman heart “AND I promise you NoBoo, if I discover you’re involved with Jan’s death, even if it's just turning a blind eye…You’re dead fucking meat...I'll drag you into the street and shoot you myself like the rabid dog you are”.

Lightning. Attack. Nobodaddy launched like a missile but before he got three feet his troops grabbed and restrained him. Green veins pumped as his bionic eye turned murder death kill blood red. The chemically enhanced techno rage of a MOD losing their shit was always a messy and terrifying business. Lucky for Nobodaddy the pack was there or Blake would have shot him dead. "Go!" the pack urged. Spittle flung and flew in the electric blue of Nobodaddy's unhinged struggle to kill.

Blake spun on her boot heel away and out the door; at the furthest reaches of her peripheral vision she glimpsed at the last second the flashing action of one of the Voidz agents sinking a syringe into Nobodaddy's juiced up neck. Her trench-coat and Fedora hat sailed with her as she vanished into the cold misty wet neon rain of Libertalia. Her pericope smile rose and sunk as the echoing psychotic cries of Nobodaddy faded away like the last flame of the last match of the last cigarette of the last fuck; the potent silence enveloping them all.

Flying through the cold wet streets like an Ibis Blake played out her next moves as the amphetamine cosmic spice opened portals: Albion must be found. The kAlts of Beulah united. The Affinity group must be informed of the death of the Custodian. The death of Jan Lee was the final catalyst….The Future That Never Comes was incoming….so this is where it had all been leading.... the intensity of the dosing increased with the swallowing of a 'Black Jelly Diamond' Blake's favourite customised pill for turbo jet mind overload. Picking up speed she figured it all came down to one very simple equation.

A universal formula for the ages:

Viva La Revolution