Smiting made easy: a beginner’s guide.



“Well ladies, I will have to finish this cuppa another time.” sighed Death. “Famine, do you mind if I borrow the car, Maude and the girls have mine.”

“Of course dear.” said Famine with a gentle smile. “Do you want to take Nigel to drive you?”

“If you don’t mind, I would definitely appreciate it.”

Walking out to Famines dirty orange two door 1971 Datsun 120Y, Nigel, mouse brown-haired, bowl cut sporting, stooped driver and unofficial slave of Famine sidled along beside Death, only to rush ahead of her and open the left hand passenger door for Mr. Darcy, keeping it open for her. Bent and cowed and pasty skinned, the once six-foot tall Nigel opened the right hand, drivers side door as quietly as possible. Sitting in it and putting his seatbelt on, he pulled it gently closed behind him, not making a sound as he did so. Too afraid to look at Death, Nigel asked Death in a thin shaky voice where and when she wanted to go. Listening and nodding, he put the four speed manual into first gear, and puttered away. Mr. Darcy yapped happily from the back seat to his friends of the apocalypse, watching them, the unmoving three, as the vehicle crawled away.


“Bugger me! She’s waking up!” spluttered Maude.

Black Annis had started to move. She slowly rolled her head from side to side, her eyes eventually opening, pain obviously racking her terribly. As if being raised from the crypt, she started moaning quietly. The moaning progressing upward in decibels to a louder groaning, the groaning quickly progressed through the spectrum of wailing, into a full-blown howling in pain. Lastly, the howling was replaced by screams, loud and long and unceasing.

“Christ on a bike she’s loud.” stated Bast, looking down at the writhing mess of Black Annis.

“Bugger her, she deserves what she’s got.” spat Cat through mutilated lips. “She ought to be counting her blessing we aren’t burning her alive.”

“Still,” quipped Maude, now returned to her human shape and form. “It’s pretty horrid watching her like that. Should we do something to help her? Well just a little bit?”

“No, the hell with her, let her writhe until Death show’s up.” snarled Cat, stepping beside the supine Black Annis, kicking her hard in the ribs, hard enough to send her rolling twice, the knives digging cruelly into her all the more. The howling come screaming increasing as a result. “She has killed so many people. All undeserving. Not caring they were man, woman, child or beast. She has absolutely no empathy, no sympathy, all it does is create joy for her, and power for her through the vile cloak she wore. No, Maude. Give her Death, give her Hell, but do not give her hope nor release from the pain she deserves. Let her scream and wail. And if you do want to do anything for her, you can gag her.”

“Hey, I can hear a car.” Bast said breaking the silence, just as the little Datsun came into view in the far distance ahead.




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