Story Notes:
Rated XXX for extreme violence, sexual content, and explicit depictions of blood and gore-Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.*This story is inspired and contains elements from the slasher films �My Bloody Valentine� and �Laid to Rest�. No copyright infringement is intended.-Dedicated to MetalChick, Rio, and Shiguya; they essentially gave me the idea for this story XDFinally, I'd like to introduce MetalChick as co-author of chapter two; I could have never gotten the story done without your help. Thanks, MetalChick!
Hell's Bloody Valentine- Part 1 of 2
*Before you begin to read, if I haven't said it enough, this is a slasher story. Being a slasher, it abides by the typical rules of being heavy on violence and light on character development. If you're expecting anything groundbreaking, please don't read this. If you do choose to read, I sincerely hope you enjoy it for what it is: a good old fashioned slasher.
Prologue
February 14th, 2010-
It was nearly midnight, the evening almost pitch black. Through the darkness stumbled a short man clutching a bloodied hand, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps; the normally curly brown hair that went down to his forehead was plastered to the skin by sweat. While running, he kept looking behind him to see if his pursuer was in sight though nothing appeared to be following him. If he could just make it to the mines...
"I'm sorry!" he squealed into the air. "Forgive me, please! Don't hurt me!"
The sharp noise of metal scraping against metal emanating from down the hillside was the only reply that was given. Shortly after complete silence reclaimed the wooded hill, save for the human male's shoes scrunching through the rough gravel.
Tears streamed down the man's face as he sobbed, continuing his fear-fueled scramble up the gentle incline. Through his blurred vision, he saw the dim lantern that marked the entrance to the small Anchorhead Village Coal Mine. With renewed strength at having found his destination, the man sprinted towards the deserted entryway that was crudely carved into a small mountain that rose half a mile into the air. As he trudged through the mine entrance, a taunting voice called out to him from the valley below.
"Jim? JJJJJiiiiiiiimmmm? You're only delaying the inevitable; come back. Don't be scared."
Jim gave a frightened shout as he descended into the mine's twisting corridors; he removed a small flashlight from the pocket of his denim jeans to light his way. He ran through a twisting tunnel, followed by another, and another; they all appeared the same- archways of jagged stone that continued on forever. Now stumbling, he reached a small room that branched into three different tunnels. Wheezing, Jim doggedly ran into the mouth of the central black as pitch tunnel, sweat pouring from his body. Not long after he entered the corridor, however, he found that his legs had begun to feel like leaden weights, pulling him down into the earth.
Jim gasped for air as he sank to the cold ground, his right hand wrapped around his burning throat. The small flashlight lay at his side, illuminating the wall in front of him.
His left hand lay at his side, smashed and completely useless. That crazy bastard Howard had smashed his hand to a bloody pulp with a sledgehammer that he apparently retrieved from his shed when he found out...
Jim began to rock back and forth from the pain that exploded from his hand, though the agony had been somewhat dulled by the distinct feeling of faintness. His hand appeared the same as before, the abrasions on his first four fingers were leaking small droplets of blood that disguised some areas of exposed and shattered bone beneath. He closed his eyes, trying to relax and slow his breathing in order to put a cease to his too-rapid heart rate.
Something echoed in the dark tunnel ahead of him, the same sound of metal scratching metal that Howard had made on the hillside. Jim's heartbeat accelerated until it felt as if it would slam out of his chest as he hauled himself into a standing position, flashlight once again clamped in his grip. If he could move fast enough, he just might be able to make it back to the entrance and back into town...
A furred arm wrapped around Jim's throat in a chokehold while the creature brutally smashed its knee into the aging man's spine. Jim wailed out in agony as he dropped to his knees, his small light escaping his grip and clattering to the stone ground.
Behind him, a voice whispered, "You know, Jim- I always thought you were an alright guy. I'm an easy-going Floatzel, Jim, but when I find someone in bed with my wife- that's where I cross the line." There was something wrong with his voice: perhaps the manic tone he spoke in or the speed at which he ranted.
Snot running from his nose and tears streaming from his eyes, Jim cried, "I'm sorry Howard, I told you that!"
"You're pathetic, Jim."
Before he could process what was happening, Jim felt the Floatzel's clawed hands dig into his mouth, one paw gripping the bottom of his jaw, the other latching onto his top row of teeth. He screamed as the pokemon snapped his jaw, the bone making a hollow snap.
"And now you're going to die," the demonic Floatzel cried in demented glee.
Jim screamed in response.
Howard yanked down on the human's broken jaw, creating a jagged rip through his cheeks; hot blood flowed everywhere, dribbling down Jim's neck and soaking his white shirt. From behind his cruelly tortured victim, Howard drew a long, serrated hunting knife tucked into his belt, leaving a second remaining in its place.
The Floatzel dealt another harsh kick to the human's spine, sending him falling to the floor and landing on his back with a dull thud. Jim frantically tried to get away, but instead found that he couldn't move- the bastard had paralyzed him. He once again screamed in pain and agony as Howard took a seat on his rapidly rising and falling chest, wickedly waving the blade back and forth in slow, deliberate motions. Jim continued to cry in terror, mostly due to the feeling of his lower jaw that now rested on his neck, forming a ninety-degree angle.
"Bye."
Howard picked up Jim's bloody dangling jaw and thrust the knife through the soft flesh that made up the jaw's underside, easily piercing the human's tongue in the same motion. Jim screamed louder than ever before in his life, an animalistic screech of insurmountable pain that echoed throughout the mines with nobody to hear him except for his executioner.
Slowly, Howard wrapped his paw around the blade's handle that protruded from beneath the human's jaw and savoring the pain of his victim, pushed the blood-soaked knife up into the fleshy top of Jim's mouth. His scream immediately ceased as his body began to seizure violently from the knife's tip that had pierced the underside of his brain. Black blood cascaded from Jim's mouth as his body slowly ceased to move.
Satisfied that his adulterous victim was dead, the Floatzel began his work of cutting Jim's jaw loose from his body; it was an easy but messy task. Once he worked the joint free from the body, Howard cut out the excess flesh from the jawbone, discarding the saturated pieces of meat to the side of the body. When he was finally finished, his hands were sticky- a surprisingly pleasant sensation, as if he had just finished an ice cream cone: one of his childhood's most loved treats.
From the pants pockets, he removed two more bloody jaws; one belonging to Jim's Gardevoir wife, the other belonging to his own- the adulterous bitch of a Floatzel that had betrayed him, destroyed him.
With the light of Jim's flashlight still shining, he placed Jim's jawbone next to his wife's to form two 'humps'. Finally, Howard snapped his own wife's jawbone in half and placed the two pieces underneath the two other jaws, creating the shape of a heart.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Jim," the blood-soaked Howard muttered.
Picking up the dead human's flashlight, the Floatzel turned it off seeing as though he could see perfectly in the blackness that enveloped the mine. He stayed in the cave, setting up a temporary shelter in some of its deepest bowels, and fed off of the remains of his victim. For three days, he scouted the cave, learning its structure and inner corridors, where he eventually found a narrow passageway where he could stash his beloved knives without the worry of a wayward troublemaker finding them. However, Howard didn't do an effective enough job of hiding the rotting remains of Jim Harris, whose body was eventually found by a local miner.
Two days after the miner's discovery, the Floatzel was discovered and arrested by the police with little resistance; he was swiftly convicted of the murders of Jim Harris, Natalie Harris, and Jeanne Carnet, his own wife. After another two days in prison, Howard Carnet- species classification of Floatzel- was sent to the Greendale Heights Mental Ward, where he was to live out the rest of his days.
---
Hell's Bloody Valentine
One Year Later-
February 14th, 2011
"Don't worry, honey- it'll be a fun trip," Daniel Evans said cheerfully to his wife as he drove his well-furnished car down the country road. Deep green forestland sped by the window, creating an almost tunnel-like effect.
In the seat next to him, a Vespiquen replied in a series of clicks. "I'm sure it will be. It's just that I would have rather had our honeymoon in a more romantic place, but as long as you're happy coming here, I suppose that I am too." She leaned over to him and kissed him on the cheek, careful not to cut him with the mandibles in front of her mouth.
Understanding her perfectly, Dan replied in his British accent, "I'm glad you feel that way, baby. Sorry we didn't go anywhere more extravagant, but in my defense, you did say that you wanted to have sex in a quiet place. After all, who needs a romantic atmosphere?"
Also being able to comprehend his language easily, Laura felt her face flush- luckily it wasn't visible to Dan through her yellow exoskeleton. "Very funny, Daniel."
"Thank you Laura, I'm always glad that you think of me as witty."
The Vespiquen made a series of rapid clicks with her mandibles that may have been the equivalent of human laughter. She always thought of her husband to be funny, as well as adorable. Dan had a very boyish face with finely chiseled features that only enhanced the appearance of his lean and tall body; his neatly combed black hair also complemented his always-kind brown eyes. He was dressed in a tight gray shirt and a pair of dark brown slacks.
Laura herself, standing only four feet, appeared as a child compared to Dan's height of nearly six feet; she looked like any other Vespiquen- an almost frighteningly slim waistline, bright red eyes, and a large crimson jewel that decorated her forehead. She was outfitted in a simple white blouse, wearing no pants or dress as her natural anatomy concealed her genitals, unlike humans and most pokemon.
While she gazed at him, Laura noticed a look of confusion that suddenly crossed his face. "You see that, love?" he asked, pointing a finger at the road ahead.
Laura shifted her gaze from Dan's face to where he was pointing, noticing a pokemon hobbling across the road. "What could he be doing?" she asked.
"I'm not too sure, mind if I pull over?"
"Sure, go ahead."
Before the pokemon fully crossed the isolated stretch of road, Dan brought the car to a steady stop and opened the window. Noticing this, the pokemon turned to face the vehicle; the Floatzel stared blankly at Dan, who brought the car's window down.
"Hey, mate! Need a lift?" he asked. It wasn't until Dan finished speaking when he noticed the pokemon's odd clothes- a white shirt with white pants, both heavily stained with dirt.
The Floatzel cocked his head to the side, as if sizing the couple up with his pale blue eyes. A smile suddenly flashed across his face. "No, thank you."
"You sure? It's a bit of a hike to get to the next town."
The pokemon's smile remained on his face. "No, thank you. I've been traveling for many days- luckily, I'll be able to get to my destination on time."
"Alright, then. Good luck mate," Dan said, beginning to roll the window back up.
The Floatzel's grin seemed to widen upon hearing him. "Happy Valentine's Day."
"You too, buddy." As soon as he finished speaking, Dan pressed his foot on the gas pedal and sped off. He turned to his wife and asked, "Did that bloke seem a bit off to you?"
Laura leaned forward in her seat and flapped her wings nervously. "I've seen plenty of weird people and pokemon in my time, but that Floatzel had a bad feeling about him.
"Yeah, same here. Hey, look- we're almost in town," he motioned to a worn-out wooden sign marked, 'Anchorhead- 2 miles'.
Mmm. Good. Should we rent a room at the hotel first?" she fixed her scarlet eyes on him in a lustful stare.
Dan smiled. "No, darling. I think we should wait until nightfall first- it's more romantic at night."
The Vespiquen's eyes widened in amusement. "Says the man who doesn't care about romantic atmosphere."
"Alright, we'll get right to it as soon as we rent ourselves a room," he laughed.
It was Laura's turn to smile. "No. I know you want me, so now I think I'll make you wait until night, since you find it so romantic."
"As you please, love. Though I can't help but express my disappointment."
The car was then filled with the combined laughter of the couple, with the small town of Anchorhead now in sight from the top of the forested hill.
---
Hearing laughter in the dense woodland, Howard the Floatzel had tracked the noise for nearly ten minutes before he caught sight of a small group of teenagers. Two human males and a human female could be seen huddled around a campsite, probably cooking breakfast on an electric stove that lay on a foldout table.
Spying on the small group, he took note of a small car parked nearly a hundred feet behind the campsite; just what he needed. Howard would have killed the couple he met on the highway, but it would be an impossible task seeing as though he had no weapons. Out here, he could take this group easily- they were alone and vulnerable. From the camp, he heard one of the male teenagers begin to speak.
"I'll be right back, just gotta grab the cups from the jeep."
The Floatzel kept a careful eye on the boy as he got up and made his way away towards the car, and the rest of the group. Perfect. It was time to make his move.
Howard stalked the boy in the underbrush of the forest on his way to the jeep, and soon the sound of the car doors opening caught his attention. Time to move in for the kill.
The large, dark-haired kid backed away from the car with a stack of Styrofoam cups in his hands when he saw the Floatzel running towards him. "Oh, hi. Did you need someth- AAGH!" he screamed as the pokemon dealt him a crushing blow to the testicles. He dropped to the ground, muttering a stream of curses. "What the hell is your problem?!" he yelled, spittle flying from his mouth.
Howard smiled. "You."
Bringing his leg up, he brought his paw down hard on the kid's throat, crushing his windpipe and snapping his neck at the same time. The boy released a final, shuddering breath as his friends began to run toward the vehicle, alerted by his cries; the other boy was holding a large kitchen knife.
Acting swiftly, the pokemon ripped open the jeep's door and searched for something, anything, when his demented eyes landed on a Swiss Army Knife. He snatched it and folded out the tiny, steel blade whose edge seemed more than sharp enough to slice through flesh.
"Hey! Get away from him you bastard!" the blond-haired girl shouted.
"Wait, Casey. I'll handle this creep; call 911," he replied, holding the large knife toward Howard.
The Floatzel's pale blue eyes focused on the girl calling the police, and the person that was standing between them- the boy with the knife.
"Hey, listen pal-" he began.
His arm a blur, his paw shot outward, letting go of the small red-handled knife that embedded itself into the base of the other boy's neck, going all the way down to the handle. He dropped the kitchen knife and clutched at his throat, a small amount of blood bleeding over the small tool. In only seconds, the boy's face turned a deathly shade of blue, and he fell to his knees, and then to the ground; the impact made the rest of the knife, handle and all, disappear into his neck as the boy spasmed and died.
"Please, help me!" the girl shouted into the phone. Obviously she had contacted the police before he could intervene.
Bending over, the Floatzel retrieved the kitchen knife from the forest floor. "Put down the phone," he commanded.
Doing as she was told, the girl shut the phone, dropping in to the ground. "Please, don't hurt me! Please!"
Harsh barking laughter erupted from Howard's mouth. "You're all the same- all of you. When you're scared, you beg for me not to hurt you. Do you know what happens then?"
Curling up on the ground in a fetal position, the girl asked in a terrified whisper, "What?"
A psychotic smile lit Howard's features. "I hurt you even more!"
The girl screamed as the pokemon pounced on top of her, pinning her to the ground with his weight. Raising the knife, he cut a horizontal slash across the forehead of the screaming girl, quickly followed by two vertical incisions on both sides of her face, finished by a final cut along the bottom of her chin. The girl was now screaming and crying all the while attempting to flail her limbs; the Floatzel almost felt sorry for her, but if he let her go, she would turn him into the police. He wasn't going back to the institution; he might as well enjoy the kill.
Acting quickly, he dug his paws under the skin of her forehead and when he found a good grip, he pulled upwards, tearing the screaming girl's face off. Flecks of crimson blood flew into the air. Her face's individual strands of bloody muscles were contorted as she continued to scream.
Discarding the face, he said, "You just won't die, will you?"
He pulled up her shirt to reveal her pale stomach, where he made a lengthwise cut with the kitchen knife, earning higher-pitched screams from the girl; crimson blood bled out of the wound and flowed into the dirt that made up the forest floor. Dropping the knife to the side, the Floatzel reached into the girl's belly and felt around, feeling the warm coils of intestines that filled her abdomen. Her screams were cut off as the girl vomited blood, dribbling off to the side of her ruined face before she began to scream again.
"Quiet, please. You might attract attention," Howard said in a hushed tone as he stood up with her glistening entrails in hand. Her screams were once again cut off as he fed the entrails into her mouth that was opened in a silent cry.
"There now, all better."
Choking noises came from her throat as her head began to rock back and forth. Her blue eyes had receded into the back of her skull, now revealing the pearl-white of the iris' opposite side.
Instantly forgetting his dying victim, Howard retrieved the kitchen knife to set out to work harvesting the jaws of his victims. As he approached the corpse of one of the dead boys, the discarded face of the girl caught his eye. Bending over to pick it up, he placed it over his own face, threading his muzzle through the girl's parted lips. He smiled in satisfaction.
---
Since arriving in the small village, Dan and Laura immediately set out to the Valentine's Day Festival, which was one of the main reasons they had journeyed to the isolated town. In the town square, many colorful stalls were set up in an orderly fashion along the brown cobblestone street. A large fountain that sent a jet of water twenty feet into the air adorned the center of the large circle of space that made up the Anchorhead town square, the individual droplets of water reflecting the bright afternoon sun. Human and pokemon children alike mingled and played amongst the vast number of shops, some of which sold hand-made wooden toys in the shapes of hearts and pink Ursarings.
Amongst the large crowd Laura and Dan, a seemingly unlikely couple, held hands (or pincers in Laura's case) while shifting to new stalls every so often after observing the goods of various different vendors. Laura, suspended in the air by her rapidly flapping wings, pulled her husband along through the dense crowd until she stopped at a stall selling sunglasses.
"Sunglasses, dear? What would I need those for?" he asked once she let go of his hand.
Filing through a row of the dark colored spectacles laid out on the table she replied, "It's bright out, don't you want something to shield your eyes? ... Ah, here's a pair- they'll look good on you."
"No, Laura- really," he began.
"Here you are, fifteen pokepounds," she said to the vendor, removing three paper bills from her brown leather purse.
Without the faintest clue of what the Vespiquen said in the series of clicking noises that she made, the human vendor accepted the money with a friendly smile. "Have a nice day," he said.
"You too, mate," Dan replied in Laura's place, knowing full well that the vendor had no idea what his wife was saying. Turning to leave, he said, "Next time let me just buy it- I should be buying you trinkets, not the other way around."
Hovering in front of him, Laura accelerated her wings so that she was face-to-face with Dan, showing off her skill of flying backwards. Sliding the sunglasses onto his face she replied, "Oh, please; quit it with the masculine-honor garbage. Just try and enjoy the day."
Just as she finished speaking, the Vespiquen felt her back impact a wayward form. Her wings immediately ceasing to flap from the force of the impact, she fell nearly two feet to the ground, the honeycomb cells at the bottom of her gown-like abdomen hitting the rough cobblestone ground.
Threading his arms under hers, Dan easily picked her eighty-pound body off of the ground, holding her in a position that one would hold a small dog by its front legs. "You alright?"
Wincing, she muttered, "Yes, I'm fine." Flapping her transparent wings again, she escaped from her husband's grip and rotated to face the person she had bumped into.
In front of Laura stood a short woman with boyish facial features, her long blonde hair combed back into a ponytail. She wore a tan short-sleeved police uniform and a pair of black denim pants secured to her thin waist by a plain looking buckle belt. Her brown eyes stared at her apologetically. "Sorry ma'am, are you ok?"
Laura sighed embarrassingly. "Yeah, I'm alright. Sorry for bumping into you, I should have looked where I was going."
Opening his mouth to translate, Dan was interrupted by the woman.
The female cop laughed. "It's perfectly fine; I manage to bump into people all the time."
"You understand me?" she asked, pleasantly surprised.
"You understand her?" Dan asked simultaneously.
The police officer gave a bright smile. "There are more of us people that understand specific pokemon dialects than you may think; it's also part of my job requirement," she explained to the pair. "By the way, I haven't seen you two around here before. Did you just move here?"
"No, we're just on vacation here for the Valentine's Day Festival," Dan explained, gesturing to the commotion going on around them.
"Ah, I see," she began. "By the way, you never told me your names." The lady first extended her hand to the Vespiquen. "Officer Jean Bellis."
Laura took her hand in her own two-pincered grip and shook it gently. "Laura Evans. Nice to meet you."
"Daniel Evans," Dan said as she shook his hand next.
Bellis' eyes widened in mild surprise. "So you two are married?"
Laura's large crimson eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Yes... so what about it?"
Dan stood in the background, awkwardly taking note of his wife's reaction.
Officer Bellis put her hands out defensively and shook her head. "No, I didn't want you to take offense to what I said! It's just that we haven't seen many couples like you two in this area for awhile... well except for Jim and Natalie."
"Jim and Natalie?" Laura asked, her temper vanishing at Jean's explanation.
The police officer's blonde head suddenly looked down at the ground. "Sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned them; none of my business really. The point is, they're not living here anymore."
"Why's that?" Dan asked.
"I'm sorry, I can't discuss that information." From within her pocket, a light-hearted melody began to play. "Sorry, you'll have to excuse me a sec," Jean said, pulling a small cell-phone from her pocket. "Bellis here."
On the other end of the line, a deep voice spoke out. "Hey Jean? It's Jason. Me and Freddy got an emergency call down at the police station from some kid screaming for help. We traced the call and it came from off the section of Route 95 that leads into town; I'm down here now, and it isn't looking good."
"Don't tell me this has to do with Carnet," she groaned.
"Yeah, it has to do with Carnet. I've got three teenagers down here: all their jaws are ripped off and arranged in his trademark. The sick bastard ripped out the intestines of the girl here: cut her face off too," Jason explained.
Bellis' hand rose to cover her mouth in disgust. "Oh Christ... What do you want me to do?"
"Freddy and I'll be back into town within the next hour or two after the guys from the coroner's office come to pick up the bodies. Keep a close eye on the Festival; you, me, and Freddy are all this entire town's got in terms of law enforcement. Stay sharp and watch out for yourself: looks like old Howard jacked the group's car too."
Jean's eyes shifted uneasily between the couple that stood before her. "Alright, Jason. You and Freddy be careful- he might still be out there. I'll see you in town." She hung up her cell phone, sliding it back into her pocket.
The Vespiquen had a worried expression on her face, as did her husband. "Not to be prying, but what on earth was that all about? You look like you've been disturbed."
Bellis didn't respond well. "Sorry, I have to report something to the mayor. Stay off the streets if there's nobody around, and if you see a Floatzel with pale blue eyes, for Christ's sake, stay away." With her warning completed, she spun around and quickly disappeared into the crowd, leaving the bewildered couple behind.
"She said to stay away from a Floatzel with blue eyes," Laura said to Dan in a shaky voice. "Like the one we stopped for at the roadside."
Dan reached out and took her pincered hand in his. "Don't worry Laura, I'm sure it's just a coincidence. Even if it was the Floatzel she was talking about, the chap's far from here and on top of that, with me around, what do you have to worry about?"
"Thanks, Daniel. Maybe you're right- maybe I'm just getting too nervous about something that I shouldn't worry about... Though Jean did seem really worried."
"Don't worry, love. It's nothing." He bent over to his wife's mouth where the two met in a deep kiss.
Pulling away, Laura said, "You're right. And you know what? That hotel room seems awfully good right about now."
Dan smiled mischievously. "Can't say I can argue with that."Chapter End Notes:Well, there's part 1. Part 2's gonna have a lot more to do with the slasher aspect, mostly dealing with a much higher body count.
Loved it? Hated it? Don't forget to leave your opinion ;
Prologue
February 14th, 2010-
It was nearly midnight, the evening almost pitch black. Through the darkness stumbled a short man clutching a bloodied hand, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps; the normally curly brown hair that went down to his forehead was plastered to the skin by sweat. While running, he kept looking behind him to see if his pursuer was in sight though nothing appeared to be following him. If he could just make it to the mines...
"I'm sorry!" he squealed into the air. "Forgive me, please! Don't hurt me!"
The sharp noise of metal scraping against metal emanating from down the hillside was the only reply that was given. Shortly after complete silence reclaimed the wooded hill, save for the human male's shoes scrunching through the rough gravel.
Tears streamed down the man's face as he sobbed, continuing his fear-fueled scramble up the gentle incline. Through his blurred vision, he saw the dim lantern that marked the entrance to the small Anchorhead Village Coal Mine. With renewed strength at having found his destination, the man sprinted towards the deserted entryway that was crudely carved into a small mountain that rose half a mile into the air. As he trudged through the mine entrance, a taunting voice called out to him from the valley below.
"Jim? JJJJJiiiiiiiimmmm? You're only delaying the inevitable; come back. Don't be scared."
Jim gave a frightened shout as he descended into the mine's twisting corridors; he removed a small flashlight from the pocket of his denim jeans to light his way. He ran through a twisting tunnel, followed by another, and another; they all appeared the same- archways of jagged stone that continued on forever. Now stumbling, he reached a small room that branched into three different tunnels. Wheezing, Jim doggedly ran into the mouth of the central black as pitch tunnel, sweat pouring from his body. Not long after he entered the corridor, however, he found that his legs had begun to feel like leaden weights, pulling him down into the earth.
Jim gasped for air as he sank to the cold ground, his right hand wrapped around his burning throat. The small flashlight lay at his side, illuminating the wall in front of him.
His left hand lay at his side, smashed and completely useless. That crazy bastard Howard had smashed his hand to a bloody pulp with a sledgehammer that he apparently retrieved from his shed when he found out...
Jim began to rock back and forth from the pain that exploded from his hand, though the agony had been somewhat dulled by the distinct feeling of faintness. His hand appeared the same as before, the abrasions on his first four fingers were leaking small droplets of blood that disguised some areas of exposed and shattered bone beneath. He closed his eyes, trying to relax and slow his breathing in order to put a cease to his too-rapid heart rate.
Something echoed in the dark tunnel ahead of him, the same sound of metal scratching metal that Howard had made on the hillside. Jim's heartbeat accelerated until it felt as if it would slam out of his chest as he hauled himself into a standing position, flashlight once again clamped in his grip. If he could move fast enough, he just might be able to make it back to the entrance and back into town...
A furred arm wrapped around Jim's throat in a chokehold while the creature brutally smashed its knee into the aging man's spine. Jim wailed out in agony as he dropped to his knees, his small light escaping his grip and clattering to the stone ground.
Behind him, a voice whispered, "You know, Jim- I always thought you were an alright guy. I'm an easy-going Floatzel, Jim, but when I find someone in bed with my wife- that's where I cross the line." There was something wrong with his voice: perhaps the manic tone he spoke in or the speed at which he ranted.
Snot running from his nose and tears streaming from his eyes, Jim cried, "I'm sorry Howard, I told you that!"
"You're pathetic, Jim."
Before he could process what was happening, Jim felt the Floatzel's clawed hands dig into his mouth, one paw gripping the bottom of his jaw, the other latching onto his top row of teeth. He screamed as the pokemon snapped his jaw, the bone making a hollow snap.
"And now you're going to die," the demonic Floatzel cried in demented glee.
Jim screamed in response.
Howard yanked down on the human's broken jaw, creating a jagged rip through his cheeks; hot blood flowed everywhere, dribbling down Jim's neck and soaking his white shirt. From behind his cruelly tortured victim, Howard drew a long, serrated hunting knife tucked into his belt, leaving a second remaining in its place.
The Floatzel dealt another harsh kick to the human's spine, sending him falling to the floor and landing on his back with a dull thud. Jim frantically tried to get away, but instead found that he couldn't move- the bastard had paralyzed him. He once again screamed in pain and agony as Howard took a seat on his rapidly rising and falling chest, wickedly waving the blade back and forth in slow, deliberate motions. Jim continued to cry in terror, mostly due to the feeling of his lower jaw that now rested on his neck, forming a ninety-degree angle.
"Bye."
Howard picked up Jim's bloody dangling jaw and thrust the knife through the soft flesh that made up the jaw's underside, easily piercing the human's tongue in the same motion. Jim screamed louder than ever before in his life, an animalistic screech of insurmountable pain that echoed throughout the mines with nobody to hear him except for his executioner.
Slowly, Howard wrapped his paw around the blade's handle that protruded from beneath the human's jaw and savoring the pain of his victim, pushed the blood-soaked knife up into the fleshy top of Jim's mouth. His scream immediately ceased as his body began to seizure violently from the knife's tip that had pierced the underside of his brain. Black blood cascaded from Jim's mouth as his body slowly ceased to move.
Satisfied that his adulterous victim was dead, the Floatzel began his work of cutting Jim's jaw loose from his body; it was an easy but messy task. Once he worked the joint free from the body, Howard cut out the excess flesh from the jawbone, discarding the saturated pieces of meat to the side of the body. When he was finally finished, his hands were sticky- a surprisingly pleasant sensation, as if he had just finished an ice cream cone: one of his childhood's most loved treats.
From the pants pockets, he removed two more bloody jaws; one belonging to Jim's Gardevoir wife, the other belonging to his own- the adulterous bitch of a Floatzel that had betrayed him, destroyed him.
With the light of Jim's flashlight still shining, he placed Jim's jawbone next to his wife's to form two 'humps'. Finally, Howard snapped his own wife's jawbone in half and placed the two pieces underneath the two other jaws, creating the shape of a heart.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Jim," the blood-soaked Howard muttered.
Picking up the dead human's flashlight, the Floatzel turned it off seeing as though he could see perfectly in the blackness that enveloped the mine. He stayed in the cave, setting up a temporary shelter in some of its deepest bowels, and fed off of the remains of his victim. For three days, he scouted the cave, learning its structure and inner corridors, where he eventually found a narrow passageway where he could stash his beloved knives without the worry of a wayward troublemaker finding them. However, Howard didn't do an effective enough job of hiding the rotting remains of Jim Harris, whose body was eventually found by a local miner.
Two days after the miner's discovery, the Floatzel was discovered and arrested by the police with little resistance; he was swiftly convicted of the murders of Jim Harris, Natalie Harris, and Jeanne Carnet, his own wife. After another two days in prison, Howard Carnet- species classification of Floatzel- was sent to the Greendale Heights Mental Ward, where he was to live out the rest of his days.
---
Hell's Bloody Valentine
One Year Later-
February 14th, 2011
"Don't worry, honey- it'll be a fun trip," Daniel Evans said cheerfully to his wife as he drove his well-furnished car down the country road. Deep green forestland sped by the window, creating an almost tunnel-like effect.
In the seat next to him, a Vespiquen replied in a series of clicks. "I'm sure it will be. It's just that I would have rather had our honeymoon in a more romantic place, but as long as you're happy coming here, I suppose that I am too." She leaned over to him and kissed him on the cheek, careful not to cut him with the mandibles in front of her mouth.
Understanding her perfectly, Dan replied in his British accent, "I'm glad you feel that way, baby. Sorry we didn't go anywhere more extravagant, but in my defense, you did say that you wanted to have sex in a quiet place. After all, who needs a romantic atmosphere?"
Also being able to comprehend his language easily, Laura felt her face flush- luckily it wasn't visible to Dan through her yellow exoskeleton. "Very funny, Daniel."
"Thank you Laura, I'm always glad that you think of me as witty."
The Vespiquen made a series of rapid clicks with her mandibles that may have been the equivalent of human laughter. She always thought of her husband to be funny, as well as adorable. Dan had a very boyish face with finely chiseled features that only enhanced the appearance of his lean and tall body; his neatly combed black hair also complemented his always-kind brown eyes. He was dressed in a tight gray shirt and a pair of dark brown slacks.
Laura herself, standing only four feet, appeared as a child compared to Dan's height of nearly six feet; she looked like any other Vespiquen- an almost frighteningly slim waistline, bright red eyes, and a large crimson jewel that decorated her forehead. She was outfitted in a simple white blouse, wearing no pants or dress as her natural anatomy concealed her genitals, unlike humans and most pokemon.
While she gazed at him, Laura noticed a look of confusion that suddenly crossed his face. "You see that, love?" he asked, pointing a finger at the road ahead.
Laura shifted her gaze from Dan's face to where he was pointing, noticing a pokemon hobbling across the road. "What could he be doing?" she asked.
"I'm not too sure, mind if I pull over?"
"Sure, go ahead."
Before the pokemon fully crossed the isolated stretch of road, Dan brought the car to a steady stop and opened the window. Noticing this, the pokemon turned to face the vehicle; the Floatzel stared blankly at Dan, who brought the car's window down.
"Hey, mate! Need a lift?" he asked. It wasn't until Dan finished speaking when he noticed the pokemon's odd clothes- a white shirt with white pants, both heavily stained with dirt.
The Floatzel cocked his head to the side, as if sizing the couple up with his pale blue eyes. A smile suddenly flashed across his face. "No, thank you."
"You sure? It's a bit of a hike to get to the next town."
The pokemon's smile remained on his face. "No, thank you. I've been traveling for many days- luckily, I'll be able to get to my destination on time."
"Alright, then. Good luck mate," Dan said, beginning to roll the window back up.
The Floatzel's grin seemed to widen upon hearing him. "Happy Valentine's Day."
"You too, buddy." As soon as he finished speaking, Dan pressed his foot on the gas pedal and sped off. He turned to his wife and asked, "Did that bloke seem a bit off to you?"
Laura leaned forward in her seat and flapped her wings nervously. "I've seen plenty of weird people and pokemon in my time, but that Floatzel had a bad feeling about him.
"Yeah, same here. Hey, look- we're almost in town," he motioned to a worn-out wooden sign marked, 'Anchorhead- 2 miles'.
Mmm. Good. Should we rent a room at the hotel first?" she fixed her scarlet eyes on him in a lustful stare.
Dan smiled. "No, darling. I think we should wait until nightfall first- it's more romantic at night."
The Vespiquen's eyes widened in amusement. "Says the man who doesn't care about romantic atmosphere."
"Alright, we'll get right to it as soon as we rent ourselves a room," he laughed.
It was Laura's turn to smile. "No. I know you want me, so now I think I'll make you wait until night, since you find it so romantic."
"As you please, love. Though I can't help but express my disappointment."
The car was then filled with the combined laughter of the couple, with the small town of Anchorhead now in sight from the top of the forested hill.
---
Hearing laughter in the dense woodland, Howard the Floatzel had tracked the noise for nearly ten minutes before he caught sight of a small group of teenagers. Two human males and a human female could be seen huddled around a campsite, probably cooking breakfast on an electric stove that lay on a foldout table.
Spying on the small group, he took note of a small car parked nearly a hundred feet behind the campsite; just what he needed. Howard would have killed the couple he met on the highway, but it would be an impossible task seeing as though he had no weapons. Out here, he could take this group easily- they were alone and vulnerable. From the camp, he heard one of the male teenagers begin to speak.
"I'll be right back, just gotta grab the cups from the jeep."
The Floatzel kept a careful eye on the boy as he got up and made his way away towards the car, and the rest of the group. Perfect. It was time to make his move.
Howard stalked the boy in the underbrush of the forest on his way to the jeep, and soon the sound of the car doors opening caught his attention. Time to move in for the kill.
The large, dark-haired kid backed away from the car with a stack of Styrofoam cups in his hands when he saw the Floatzel running towards him. "Oh, hi. Did you need someth- AAGH!" he screamed as the pokemon dealt him a crushing blow to the testicles. He dropped to the ground, muttering a stream of curses. "What the hell is your problem?!" he yelled, spittle flying from his mouth.
Howard smiled. "You."
Bringing his leg up, he brought his paw down hard on the kid's throat, crushing his windpipe and snapping his neck at the same time. The boy released a final, shuddering breath as his friends began to run toward the vehicle, alerted by his cries; the other boy was holding a large kitchen knife.
Acting swiftly, the pokemon ripped open the jeep's door and searched for something, anything, when his demented eyes landed on a Swiss Army Knife. He snatched it and folded out the tiny, steel blade whose edge seemed more than sharp enough to slice through flesh.
"Hey! Get away from him you bastard!" the blond-haired girl shouted.
"Wait, Casey. I'll handle this creep; call 911," he replied, holding the large knife toward Howard.
The Floatzel's pale blue eyes focused on the girl calling the police, and the person that was standing between them- the boy with the knife.
"Hey, listen pal-" he began.
His arm a blur, his paw shot outward, letting go of the small red-handled knife that embedded itself into the base of the other boy's neck, going all the way down to the handle. He dropped the kitchen knife and clutched at his throat, a small amount of blood bleeding over the small tool. In only seconds, the boy's face turned a deathly shade of blue, and he fell to his knees, and then to the ground; the impact made the rest of the knife, handle and all, disappear into his neck as the boy spasmed and died.
"Please, help me!" the girl shouted into the phone. Obviously she had contacted the police before he could intervene.
Bending over, the Floatzel retrieved the kitchen knife from the forest floor. "Put down the phone," he commanded.
Doing as she was told, the girl shut the phone, dropping in to the ground. "Please, don't hurt me! Please!"
Harsh barking laughter erupted from Howard's mouth. "You're all the same- all of you. When you're scared, you beg for me not to hurt you. Do you know what happens then?"
Curling up on the ground in a fetal position, the girl asked in a terrified whisper, "What?"
A psychotic smile lit Howard's features. "I hurt you even more!"
The girl screamed as the pokemon pounced on top of her, pinning her to the ground with his weight. Raising the knife, he cut a horizontal slash across the forehead of the screaming girl, quickly followed by two vertical incisions on both sides of her face, finished by a final cut along the bottom of her chin. The girl was now screaming and crying all the while attempting to flail her limbs; the Floatzel almost felt sorry for her, but if he let her go, she would turn him into the police. He wasn't going back to the institution; he might as well enjoy the kill.
Acting quickly, he dug his paws under the skin of her forehead and when he found a good grip, he pulled upwards, tearing the screaming girl's face off. Flecks of crimson blood flew into the air. Her face's individual strands of bloody muscles were contorted as she continued to scream.
Discarding the face, he said, "You just won't die, will you?"
He pulled up her shirt to reveal her pale stomach, where he made a lengthwise cut with the kitchen knife, earning higher-pitched screams from the girl; crimson blood bled out of the wound and flowed into the dirt that made up the forest floor. Dropping the knife to the side, the Floatzel reached into the girl's belly and felt around, feeling the warm coils of intestines that filled her abdomen. Her screams were cut off as the girl vomited blood, dribbling off to the side of her ruined face before she began to scream again.
"Quiet, please. You might attract attention," Howard said in a hushed tone as he stood up with her glistening entrails in hand. Her screams were once again cut off as he fed the entrails into her mouth that was opened in a silent cry.
"There now, all better."
Choking noises came from her throat as her head began to rock back and forth. Her blue eyes had receded into the back of her skull, now revealing the pearl-white of the iris' opposite side.
Instantly forgetting his dying victim, Howard retrieved the kitchen knife to set out to work harvesting the jaws of his victims. As he approached the corpse of one of the dead boys, the discarded face of the girl caught his eye. Bending over to pick it up, he placed it over his own face, threading his muzzle through the girl's parted lips. He smiled in satisfaction.
---
Since arriving in the small village, Dan and Laura immediately set out to the Valentine's Day Festival, which was one of the main reasons they had journeyed to the isolated town. In the town square, many colorful stalls were set up in an orderly fashion along the brown cobblestone street. A large fountain that sent a jet of water twenty feet into the air adorned the center of the large circle of space that made up the Anchorhead town square, the individual droplets of water reflecting the bright afternoon sun. Human and pokemon children alike mingled and played amongst the vast number of shops, some of which sold hand-made wooden toys in the shapes of hearts and pink Ursarings.
Amongst the large crowd Laura and Dan, a seemingly unlikely couple, held hands (or pincers in Laura's case) while shifting to new stalls every so often after observing the goods of various different vendors. Laura, suspended in the air by her rapidly flapping wings, pulled her husband along through the dense crowd until she stopped at a stall selling sunglasses.
"Sunglasses, dear? What would I need those for?" he asked once she let go of his hand.
Filing through a row of the dark colored spectacles laid out on the table she replied, "It's bright out, don't you want something to shield your eyes? ... Ah, here's a pair- they'll look good on you."
"No, Laura- really," he began.
"Here you are, fifteen pokepounds," she said to the vendor, removing three paper bills from her brown leather purse.
Without the faintest clue of what the Vespiquen said in the series of clicking noises that she made, the human vendor accepted the money with a friendly smile. "Have a nice day," he said.
"You too, mate," Dan replied in Laura's place, knowing full well that the vendor had no idea what his wife was saying. Turning to leave, he said, "Next time let me just buy it- I should be buying you trinkets, not the other way around."
Hovering in front of him, Laura accelerated her wings so that she was face-to-face with Dan, showing off her skill of flying backwards. Sliding the sunglasses onto his face she replied, "Oh, please; quit it with the masculine-honor garbage. Just try and enjoy the day."
Just as she finished speaking, the Vespiquen felt her back impact a wayward form. Her wings immediately ceasing to flap from the force of the impact, she fell nearly two feet to the ground, the honeycomb cells at the bottom of her gown-like abdomen hitting the rough cobblestone ground.
Threading his arms under hers, Dan easily picked her eighty-pound body off of the ground, holding her in a position that one would hold a small dog by its front legs. "You alright?"
Wincing, she muttered, "Yes, I'm fine." Flapping her transparent wings again, she escaped from her husband's grip and rotated to face the person she had bumped into.
In front of Laura stood a short woman with boyish facial features, her long blonde hair combed back into a ponytail. She wore a tan short-sleeved police uniform and a pair of black denim pants secured to her thin waist by a plain looking buckle belt. Her brown eyes stared at her apologetically. "Sorry ma'am, are you ok?"
Laura sighed embarrassingly. "Yeah, I'm alright. Sorry for bumping into you, I should have looked where I was going."
Opening his mouth to translate, Dan was interrupted by the woman.
The female cop laughed. "It's perfectly fine; I manage to bump into people all the time."
"You understand me?" she asked, pleasantly surprised.
"You understand her?" Dan asked simultaneously.
The police officer gave a bright smile. "There are more of us people that understand specific pokemon dialects than you may think; it's also part of my job requirement," she explained to the pair. "By the way, I haven't seen you two around here before. Did you just move here?"
"No, we're just on vacation here for the Valentine's Day Festival," Dan explained, gesturing to the commotion going on around them.
"Ah, I see," she began. "By the way, you never told me your names." The lady first extended her hand to the Vespiquen. "Officer Jean Bellis."
Laura took her hand in her own two-pincered grip and shook it gently. "Laura Evans. Nice to meet you."
"Daniel Evans," Dan said as she shook his hand next.
Bellis' eyes widened in mild surprise. "So you two are married?"
Laura's large crimson eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Yes... so what about it?"
Dan stood in the background, awkwardly taking note of his wife's reaction.
Officer Bellis put her hands out defensively and shook her head. "No, I didn't want you to take offense to what I said! It's just that we haven't seen many couples like you two in this area for awhile... well except for Jim and Natalie."
"Jim and Natalie?" Laura asked, her temper vanishing at Jean's explanation.
The police officer's blonde head suddenly looked down at the ground. "Sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned them; none of my business really. The point is, they're not living here anymore."
"Why's that?" Dan asked.
"I'm sorry, I can't discuss that information." From within her pocket, a light-hearted melody began to play. "Sorry, you'll have to excuse me a sec," Jean said, pulling a small cell-phone from her pocket. "Bellis here."
On the other end of the line, a deep voice spoke out. "Hey Jean? It's Jason. Me and Freddy got an emergency call down at the police station from some kid screaming for help. We traced the call and it came from off the section of Route 95 that leads into town; I'm down here now, and it isn't looking good."
"Don't tell me this has to do with Carnet," she groaned.
"Yeah, it has to do with Carnet. I've got three teenagers down here: all their jaws are ripped off and arranged in his trademark. The sick bastard ripped out the intestines of the girl here: cut her face off too," Jason explained.
Bellis' hand rose to cover her mouth in disgust. "Oh Christ... What do you want me to do?"
"Freddy and I'll be back into town within the next hour or two after the guys from the coroner's office come to pick up the bodies. Keep a close eye on the Festival; you, me, and Freddy are all this entire town's got in terms of law enforcement. Stay sharp and watch out for yourself: looks like old Howard jacked the group's car too."
Jean's eyes shifted uneasily between the couple that stood before her. "Alright, Jason. You and Freddy be careful- he might still be out there. I'll see you in town." She hung up her cell phone, sliding it back into her pocket.
The Vespiquen had a worried expression on her face, as did her husband. "Not to be prying, but what on earth was that all about? You look like you've been disturbed."
Bellis didn't respond well. "Sorry, I have to report something to the mayor. Stay off the streets if there's nobody around, and if you see a Floatzel with pale blue eyes, for Christ's sake, stay away." With her warning completed, she spun around and quickly disappeared into the crowd, leaving the bewildered couple behind.
"She said to stay away from a Floatzel with blue eyes," Laura said to Dan in a shaky voice. "Like the one we stopped for at the roadside."
Dan reached out and took her pincered hand in his. "Don't worry Laura, I'm sure it's just a coincidence. Even if it was the Floatzel she was talking about, the chap's far from here and on top of that, with me around, what do you have to worry about?"
"Thanks, Daniel. Maybe you're right- maybe I'm just getting too nervous about something that I shouldn't worry about... Though Jean did seem really worried."
"Don't worry, love. It's nothing." He bent over to his wife's mouth where the two met in a deep kiss.
Pulling away, Laura said, "You're right. And you know what? That hotel room seems awfully good right about now."
Dan smiled mischievously. "Can't say I can argue with that."Chapter End Notes:Well, there's part 1. Part 2's gonna have a lot more to do with the slasher aspect, mostly dealing with a much higher body count.
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