"So sometimes..." The Fizz doll didn't miss a beat. "A few Imps might get caught up in the kerfuffle if they're out during lockdown." The two Exterminators converged on the lone imp. There were actorly squawks and howls from the plain doll as the two Exterminators pawed at him with their fingerless mitts for hands, dragging him down out of frame.
"We wanna make sure that doesn't happen to you." The Fizz doll pointed at the screen, and thus the classroom. He spoke over the stifled screams of the brutalized imp doll; red thread and helter-skelter clouds of cotton sprouted up like a broken faucet behind him. "So remember, these things will kill—say it with me, kiddies—in-dis-crim-"
"-in-ately!" The class followed along.
"Woah, you guys are quick learners!" Lauded the all-seeing Fizz puppet. "Make sure you, your mommies and daddies, and your siblings stay inside until the end of the Extermination. Lock all your doors, close your windows and shut your curtains, and don't you open them for anyone, no matter how much they beg. Oh, and keep that noise to a minimum, ooookie-dokie?" Fizzarolli trilled. "Or you might find yourself picking a big ol' bouquet of Oopsie-daisies!"
The Fizz puppet plummeted out of frame, and the real, much-beloved Fizzarolli sprang onto the screen. The children cheered, reciting his songs and laughing. He appeared to watch them through his camera, his smile and eyes glinting that eye-catching lime green.
The boy in the back was far less entertained than his peers.
"I hope to see all'a ya in the New Year!"
The screen cut to black, that same apple with the eye watching ever-on
##
If Time was the divine transmuter of all things, then Hell's bells were the divine constant. The great champions against the test of time.
With each decadal season, Angel watched the world morph around him, bringing fantastical advancements his living self never could've fathomed: skyscrapers decked-out in digital billboards; sleek and self-driving cars; phones unfettered by chords, getting smaller, flatter, smarter; the all-knowing internet; the endless rabbit hole, social media; new trends, new ideologies, new mindsets.
But like a horrible annual wrap-up, Hell's bells and sirens circled back around like an old haunt, perpetual in their terrifying racket. Seventy-four times, he had listened to their horrendous song through many walls.
But it was an entirely new bane out in the streets.
Sirens' harpy wails surged and receded in individual pitches, and the baritone bells were mad symphonists with the discrepant strikes of their hammers. This hideous orchestra struck a visceral, primitive chord, thrumming horrible vibrations that numbed every unwilling listener. Angel felt every muscle in his body slacken.
This isn't happenin'... No way...
All the lights across the city—businesses, residences, signs, traffic lights—blacked-out in a rolling tsunami of pitch dark. Emergency street lamps flashed on, making slow, eerie pirouettes, their spotlights giving minimal aid against the heavy charcoal curtains of night.
Only one aim occupied Angel's mind: Get the-fuck back inside at all costs.
He threw himself against the studio's steel door, driving four fists against the cold, ungiving barrier.
"Let me in!" His screams barely carried over the apocalyptic cacophony. "Val, this isn't funny! Let me in!"
"I'm very disappointed with you, Angel." Val's voice came through, as impassive as the metal.
YOU ARE READING
Vintage Memories
Fanfiction(Earlier parts of the story are currently being rewritten, chapters 1-12 have been updated) "Seventy-four years..." "Seventy-four...fuckin' years!" "I searched for ya' for decades! I thought ya' were fuckin' dead!" "We are dead, my dear." "Did ya' e...
Chapter Thirty-Two "Hell's Bells"
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