had been banished from the church for all eternity.

'Thank you for coming to this special service,' Charlie told his congregation, pleased to note that the church was so packed with people that it was a major safety hazard. He'd been featured as part of a news story in relation to Mr. Corpse's disappearance, and though he knew that most of the new folks were probably curiosity seekers rather than believers, he'd show them the path before too long.

'As you know, our Savior has gone missing. He could be hurt, He could be kidnapped, or He could be on a journey of spiritual exploration. Either way, we will find Him. We will search the streets. We will call out His name. We will not rest until our Savior, The Corpse, has returned home safely to teach us again!'

'Amen!' shouted a man near the back. There was a tittering of laughter from the people around him, but Charlie chose to ignore this.

'We will bring Him home! Let's hear it!'

'We will bring Him home!'

'So wander the streets, my friends! We will do what the police can't do! We will find The Corpse!'

'We will bring Him home!'

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Darkness.

Margaret feared the darkness, and she feared big cities, and she feared getting lost, and now she was lost in a big city after dark.

It was her mother's fault. Margaret was going to cancel the New York City vacation after she broke up with Scott, but her mother had insisted that she go anyway. 'You'll have fun without him!' she said. 'It'll be an adventure!'

It had been a lot of fun. She'd gone to museums, eaten fantastic meals, and watched a taping of her favorite talk show. Then she went and took that wrong turn. Followed by another one. And another. Now she had no idea where she was, except that it was dark and scary and there was a guy walking towards her who looked like he wanted to steal her purse.

She crossed to the other side of the street and then picked up her pace.

A hand slammed over her mouth. An arm wrapped around her waist and dragged her into the alley.

'Don't scream,' the man behind her said into her ear. His body was pressed tightly against hers, and she could smell his reeking breath. 'You scream I cut you.'

He released her waist, spun her around, and bashed her against the brick wall. She'd expected to see a toothless wino, but the man was clean-shaven, had a stylish haircut, and wore a designer shirt.

He pressed a knife against her throat. 'You just be quiet and let what's gonna happen happen, and we'll get along fine.' He looked down at her breasts and gave her a lecherous grin. 'Can't wait to suck on these babies.'

'You won't be sucking on anything,' said a deep voice from the street.

Margaret and her attacker looked toward the source of the voice. It was a man dressed entirely in black leather. He wore a facemask that revealed only his mouth and eyes.

'Let her go,' said the man in black.

'You just move along, stranger. This is private business.'

'I'm pretty sure she's not a willing participant. Now let her go or things are going to get ugly.'

The attacker removed the knife from Margaret's throat and stepped away from her. 'Okay, okay, you can have her if you want. I was just playing around anyway. It's cool.'

'Now let me give you a warning-'

Before she realized what he was doing, Margaret's attacker had reached under his shirt and taken out a gun. He pointed it at the man in black.

'Maybe you should think about moving on, stranger.'

The man in black shook his head.

The attacker shrugged, then shot him in the chest. Margaret screamed. The man in black stumbled backwards a few steps but didn't fall. There was no blood.

'What the hell…?'

'You can't kill me,' the man in black growled. 'I'm already dead!'

He tore off the facemask. Margaret recognized him, it was Mr. Corpse from TV, but he looked different. He had black circles around his eyes, but the eyes themselves were completely red. He grinned, revealing fangs.

The attacker dropped his gun and wet his pants in terror as Mr. Corpse took a dramatic step forward. 'Do you know who I am?' he demanded.

'Oh, shit, don't kill me!'

Mr. Corpse grabbed the attacker by the shoulders and slammed him against the opposite wall. 'Your soul is mine, motherfucker! I should eat you alive, right now, starting with your nose.'

'No! No! Don't hurt me!'

Mr. Corpse hissed at him.

'Please, I wasn't really gonna do anything! I swear!'

'Lies! But you're lucky. I'm not going to kill you. I need you to spread the word to your scumbag rapist mugger friends. The next time they look over their shoulder, I might be there. I'm the Sinister Mr. Corpse. I'm their doom. You think you can tell them that?'

The attacker nodded frantically.

'Apologize to that woman.'

'Sorry!'

'Say it like you mean it, bitch!'

'Sorry I'm sorry I'm so so sorry!'

Mr. Corpse relaxed his grip. He took a stack of business cards out of his pocket and pressed them into the man's palm. 'Share these. Make sure people know about me. I'm not going to tolerate your kind in this great city anymore. Do you understand?'

'Yes, sir!'

'Good. Now get out of here before I flay the skin from your body with your own knife.'

The attacker fled.

Mr. Corpse turned toward Margaret, and she recoiled.

'Damn, these things burn!' he said, popping one of the contact lenses out of his eye. 'Are you okay? Did he hurt you?'

Margaret shook her head.

'Good. You shouldn't be out here by yourself after dark.'

'I know. I got lost.'

'I'll take you someplace safe. You don't have to be scared walking with me. These aren't real fangs.' He held out his hand to her, and reluctantly she took it.

They stepped out of the alley and onto the street. Margaret was still scared, but Mr. Corpse clearly had no intention of hurting her, so she forced herself to relax. 'Where have you been?' Margaret asked, trying to make conversation.

'Thinking. Planning. Doing something good with my life. Oh, this is for you,' he said, handing her a business card.

Margaret glanced at the card. It had a demonic looking picture of Mr. Corpse and the slogan Evildoers beware! Your time of reckoning is at hand! The Sinister Mr. Corpse is on the prowl! 'Did you design this yourself?'

'Nah, my friend Martin did it. Looks pretty good, huh?'

'I guess so. It's kind of creepy.'

'Oh, wait, I gave you the wrong one. That's for bad guys.' Mr. Corpse took back the card and handed her a different one. This one had a picture of him without the makeup and fangs, and said You have been rescued by Mr. Corpse. Tell your friends!

Вы читаете The Sinister Mr. Corpse
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату