ALL IS LOST Part 2 of 2

Oh hell! I’m halfway inside this, this horror — it burns my skin like acid and it’s pulling my legs apart as I continue to be drawn in, and now —



With a horrid sucking sound, the mass pulls my head and arms inside it completely.

Part 2 of 2

by **Sigh**
Copyright © 2013 plaintivesigh
All Rights Reserved.


A small band of monsters as well as a horse and a voluptuous blonde woman — me — gathered around a small faerie/pixie as it explained what had all just happened.

“I belong to a worldwide organization known as Sacramento. We’re kind of like self appointed spiritual guardians for the planet, bound to protect it from evil.”

“You mean you’re the Men In Black,” gasped Jocko.

“Well … kind of. We deal with the supernatural, not aliens. I don’t even know if those Men In Black guys really exist. We do, though.”

“Well, missster guardian … you guysss really ssscrewed up your job tonight,” said Medusa/Tish from behind the hood that covered her head.

Sacramento had Crowzen listed as dangerous years ago, but he’s been so inactive the last decade - he was hardly considered a threat anymore. I’m a low level operative, just barely cleared for fieldwork. Since it’s All Saint’s Eve, I was sent to nose around his new business, just to make sure he was still innocuous. The ‘mandatory Halloween party’ raised a red flag with me; I was trying to bolt out of the office this morning to warn my ‘brothers’ when Crowzen’s crony captured me.”

“So, that guy wasn’t really a security guard then,” I stated.

“Connngrrattulationnns, Ccappttainn Obbbviouss,” gargled Marjorie the Spider Goddess. Good to know she still has a sense of humor.

Sheldon continued. “Crowzen has obviously been super sneaky and patient. He hasn’t set off any alarms or engaged in obvious witchcraft in years — we would have detected it. He must have gotten everything he needed — all of the spells, artifacts, whatever — and carefully compiled them, waiting for tonight. Your company — rather, the company employees — were the last piece of the puzzle, evidently.”

“Hnngh,” grunted Giant Cyclops/Skip. “Why he need us? We not special … not when we still humans.”

“You all were about the right number of people,” the faerie said. “For the completion of the ceremony, which must occur by midnight on Halloween, he needed five mythological beings, a large animal to sacrifice — “

That caused Tom/Peej, the horse, to appear unsettled.

“— And most importantly, you.” Sheldon now pointed at me.

I went numb. “Me? What did he need me for? I definitely am no one special.”

“He needed an adult woman who — “

“NOW, WAIT A MINUTE! The only reason I got a woman’s costume is because that was the only one left! If he needed a female, there was Marjorie or Tish! Why did he need me to be a woman, me specifically, for this stupid ritual?”

“Hayden,” Sheldon wearily replied, “He needs a woman, an adult woman … who is a virgin. True virginity is the most important requirement, and cannot be magically manufactured. Somehow, Crowzen must have found out about your chasteness, and that’s probably when he targeted your company for takeover — and for the ceremony.”

My eyes were tearing up now. “Why didn’t he just raid a convent?”

“Probably because nuns can have significant spiritual strength. I don’t know for sure. I don’t know why he chose this town, this year, or you guys rather than the donut shop down the street. All I know is you all seem to meet the requirements, including the most important one — an adult virgin.”


Once again, everyone’s eyes — and judgment, it seemed — were all on me.

I was kind of nerdy growing up. I was in the math club, and the computer science club, but the only really social group I was in was my church’s youth club. And as a part of that club, I was taught that virginity was a virtue to be held close to your heart, all the way up to your wedding night. Girls respected guys who are virgins. Girls prefer to marry virgin guys. That’s what I was taught. That’s what all the girls in the church seemed to agree with.

By the time my views changed, it seemed too late. I was an adult, and dating was nerve wracking to me. My sexual inexperience, rather than being an asset, just made me fear embarrassing myself if I ever was to get intimate with a girl. It was less stressful just to remain eunuch-like. I lost myself in work, and restricted social interaction to that area of my life. I was lonely. But ‘doing it’ with a gal and failing miserably was too horrible to contemplate.

I recently had made up my mind to save up for a trip to Reno, Nevada, and hire a hooker to break the ice with me, to get me over this hang up. That plan — as well as any and all other life plans — seemed so irrelevant now.

Jocko broke my sad contemplation. “Hayden, you sap. If you’d just gotten laid once in your life, none of this would have happened!”

“It would have too, goat boy,” I snapped. “Maybe not with us, but with some other group. And then the world would still be screwed. I’m right, aren’t I, Sheldon? Something that happened back there has brought hell to earth — the whole earth!”

Tish spoke up too. “What issss that black presssenccce that killed Crowzen?”

“What do you think?” Shel moaned.

“Devil. Satan,” Skip said. “He really real, hmmph.”

“Close,” piped TinkerShel. “There are many myths and legends about what the ultimate source of evil in the universe is; ‘the devil’ is most well known. All of those stories contain some inaccuracies. But essentially, that black thing is the source of evil.”

“Wwwhhatttt iis iiitts nnnammme?” our spider goddess insisted.

“I’ve just always called it The Source of Evil,” Sheldon shrugged.

“Evil Incarnate,” whispered Jocko.

“NO. NOT evil incarnate. His form is present, but it is not completely physical. That’s why he’s limited to what he can do here. To get ultimate power over our reality, he needs his evil in a physical form. He needs a child — one with a human mother.” Shel looked at me. “A human, virgin mother.”

I blanched. “What … oh no. No. HELL no!” Now I was shaking. “This can’t be happening! I won’t let it happen! Sheldon — how do we stop this?”

Suddenly Jocko the faun had jumped onto me, knocking me to the ground. His little goat tail was wiggling furiously. “Hayden — let me take your virginity! That way you’ll be no good to the shadow! Besides, you’re sooo sexy! I’ve been drooling over you the last thirty minutes! I can’t wait to make your cherry — “

POP was the next sound heard, caused by Skip’s club knocking Jocko off of me. “Hmmph. Satyrs. Always horny,” the Cyclops grumbled.

The sad pixie was downcast, crying. “Hayden, you heard what brother Cassius told me. It’s too late. We can take your virginity, we can kill ourselves even, but The Evil will still find some unlucky souls to complete the ceremony.

“You guys are right; we were caught horribly off guard. This scenario is worst-case; what we all have feared, and tried to prevent. This is the End of All Good Things. All Is Lost.”

“DAMMIT, Sheldon! There has to be a way! The ceremony has to happen tonight, by midnight, right? There must be some way to interrupt it!”

“If there was, brother Cassius would have known of it. His message confirmed to me that all efforts to stop this would be futile.”

“Shel. Tell me the ceremony, step-by-step. You know what’s gonna happen, right?”

The floating faerie now looked angry. “Fool! The Master’s plan cannot be thwarted!” Then Shel shook his head, throwing off bits of pixie dust. “Oh no. I can feel the Evil One’s presence growing stronger in me … calling me back to the mansion …”

“I — I feel it too. Jussst ssslightly, but growing ever ssstronger,” Tish cried.

I approached TinkerShel with urgency. “The steps of the ceremony. Tell me!”

“First, you are impregnated by the Evil One. Then, after about a one-hour gestation, you deliver the foul offspring. The black presence has the child taste his black essence, turning the child fully evil. Then the animal is sacrificed, as the child’s first full meal. Then the Reign of Terror is officially in full swing.”

“Crosses? Holy Water?”

“They have no effect on the Evil One.”

“What if we all attacked him? You with your pixie dust, Skip with his club, Marj with her webs and venom … could Tish turn him to stone?”

“We all have these powers due to evil magics. They cannot be used directly to attack the Evil One — he has seen to that. I knew a few basic spells that were mine before all this, like the temporary silencing spell I used to get us out of there, but that’s it.”

“Hhhhooopppellesssssss,” choked Marjorie.

I turned to Skip. “Big guy … if there really is no hope … then please kill me. Crush my skull with your club. If we can’t stop it, don’t let me be a part of it.”

“Hmmph! No, no,” uttered the giant.

“I know you care about me and don’t want to hurt me. But please — it will hurt me more to be used in a plot to enslave the Earth.”

“Me no care about you, girl. Me want to kill you, then chew your bones. But Master want you alive for him.” The Cyclops then grabbed me around the waist and hoisted me over his shoulder. He simultaneously brought his club down on my faithful horse, TomPeej, stunning it. He put the stallion over his other shoulder, and then began lumbering back towards the mansion.

“Marjorie! Sheldon! Tish! Someone help me,” I screamed back towards the others.

“Yyyooou’rre ttthhe Mmasstterrr’s cchhattell nnnoww,” burbled the spider goddess, crawling behind us.

The others followed. It was too late. They all had been turned — turned completely evil. You could see it in their eyes, on their faces. Well, all except Tish’s face, covered by her hood, but she followed us nonetheless.

Shel had been right. All really was lost.


I was taken back to the mansion, back into the ballroom.

Back to my doom. To be the mother of annihilation.

I was placed back in the center of the pentagram, and some new hoodies that had arrived — I guess the Evil One drew them here just like my friends — they grabbed my dress that Tish had lent me, and poof, I was naked as a damned jaybird again.

They have TomPeej secured with a bridle and ropes that they attached while he was still woozy from the clubbing. He ‘came to’ just in time to kick the hell out of one of the new hoodies that dared walk just behind him. Now he’s struggling and stomping and whinnying, but to no avail.

What I don’t see is … oh, wait. There it is.

The Black Heap with burning red eyes.

“You show … much spirit … much fight … qualities that will … serve me well … in our son,” the Heap laughed. “And now … I will take you … and I warn you … I won’t be … gentle.”

Smoky, inky tendrils extended out from the base of the dark mass and slithered towards me. Fear has conquered me completely; I’m paralyzed by it, and all I can manage is to scream, scream, and scream.

The tentacles have me now, and are dragging me slowly back towards the giant mountain of evil in the room, feet first. As I get closer, I can see the skin of evil through the smoke covering it; it is oily, slimy, and smells of charred refuse. I finally break my body’s stupor and try in vain to wriggle free. As I turn over on my tummy, I dig my nails into the flooring, trying to stop my progress, but only put linear scratches in the wood as I continue to be sucked in. I haven’t stopped screaming.

Oh hell! I’m halfway inside this, this horror — it burns my skin like acid and it’s pulling my legs apart as I continue to be drawn in, and now —



With a horrid sucking sound, the mass pulls my head and arms inside it completely.



Why didn’t it just kill me? Why torture me in unimaginably horrific ways, and leave me to remember them? Why not just end it instead of spitting me back out on the ballroom floor, violated, and covered in some foul mucus?

Oh yeah. I have to deliver the antichrist. That’s why.

That’s also why I’m having terrific pain in my lower belly. In the fifteen minutes since I exited the dark heap, I’m visibly enlarging. It’s like going through nine months of pregnancy in an hour, if it’s anything like Sheldon was saying.

The heap is giving marching orders to the hoodies, and the monsters who used to be my friends and coworkers. It sounds like they are going to be following little Damien into battle to subdue the rest of the people on earth.

Oh man. The little demon’s really growing now. My belly button just turned from an “innie” to an “outie”. I’m lying on my side in a fetal position because that’s the least painful way for me to be.

Seems that the E.O. (that’s short for Evil One) enjoyed taking me. More like he enjoyed seeing me suffer at his hands — or tentacles. So he’s planning on keeping me around as his main concubine. I am terrified.

And I’m angry, too. It’s one thing to use me as an evil tool; quite another to continue to use me just for the pure enjoyment of seeing me suffer. ‘Cause that’s what gets E.O.’s rocks off. Suffering. The sadistic bastard. At least grant me the dignity of death! But, no. I swear, if there is a way to undermine him, I will. But how do you fight evil? With more evil? Won’t that just make him laugh louder?

Aaagh! That … that hurts. It’s like there’s a tumor expanding in me by the minute. Aaah! Now … now my breasts are exploding?! …of course. Female breasts fill up and develop to give milk to feed baby after it’s born. Except my kid is going to be eating evil essence followed by horse meat.

OOH! I’m hemorrhaging between my legs! No, wait, it’s fairly clear fluid. Great. My water just broke.

E.O. is speaking towards me. “Prepare … for the … arrival.”

Now I’m being turned on my back — one hoodie has ahold of my right leg, another has my left, and they’re lifting them up and out. A third one is in between my legs, telling me to push. Okay, I’ll try.


The pain was unbelievable — but the delivery was over in seconds. I’m lying on my side again, panting, gasping, all but forgotten as the hoodies hold the baby up in the air with a triumphant yell; they’ve already tied off and cut his cord.

“Now put … the child down … and come to me.”

Just like that the hoodies put their future master and hero onto the cold hard floor about two yards away from me, and all go to minister to E.O. He’s giving them strict instructions.

“Take the sacred sword … and cut me … to extract my essence … for it’s first taste. Because my child … shall begin it’s life … having tasted only … pure evil.”

His child? It’s my child too, and I’m amazed as I look at it. My little demon baby has horns. And a tail. And an unnatural redness to it’s skin. I should be disgusted by it. But it’s lying on the hard floor, crying just like any baby would. With each cry, my breasts tense more.

“Bring the horse … to me … for when my child … has tasted my evil essence … he must then fill his belly … with bloody meat … I shall slay it … with my own hand.”

The hoodies drag an apoplectic TomPeej to stand right next to E.O.

“Now … cut me … for the essence.”

One of the hoodies shakingly approaches E.O. with this glowing red sword, then stabs it into the smoky oily skin of evil. The big dark heap howls in pain and anger, and a tentacle lashes out and breaks the neck of the stabbing hoodie. His roars dissolve into wicked laughter as a tarry, globby substance drips out of the wound. “Now bring … my son … to taste … my es — WHAT!?”

Everyone had been watching E.O., but now they’re looking at the baby. The demon baby that I’m now holding to my breast as it suckles away on it. As it takes in more and more of my milk, his skin color becomes more and more flesh tone.

“Looks like our son’s first taste will be of his mother’s love,” I yell defiantly. “And his first meal will be my milk — the milk of human kindness, not your evil.” I stroke my baby’s bald head, and kiss it. “I love you, little one. I always will. Never forget that.”

And that, I think, is how you fight evil. With love.

“YOU … FOOL … WHAT HAVE … YOU DONE?” E. O. is roaring, with anger — and with what sounds like panic. And that’s when my horse — my noble stallion, TomPeej — turns it’s rear towards the black blob and gives it a mighty two hooved kick right in the sword wound. The startled hoodies holding his bridle and ropes are knocked off balance, and the steed rockets away from them and away from the vengeful tendrils reaching for it from E.O. The heap looks like it’s actually been hurt.

Meanwhile, I’ve switched my beautiful baby to my other breast. And he’s growing fast — past infant size, past toddler size, to almost adolescent size. He’s so gorgeous. He may have his father’s horns (yuck) but he’s got my eyes. I continue to dote on him and tell him that his purpose in life is to love, not hate; for good, not evil.

E. O. is ticked off, and the tendrils are shooting towards me now. “DIE … WITCH,” he screeches. I get set for the fatal blows I know are coming. Then something cool happens.

My son detaches from me and turns and stands, all in a split second. With amazing strength and agility he intercepts the tentacles, all of them — and with a mighty yank, tears them away from their source. As he throws the severed appendages to the side, he growls at E.O. “Do not hurt my mother.”

“YOU … ARE MY … SON!” the heap screeches.

“I reject your heritage! I claim the heritage of my mother. Because … she loves me. When I was cold and alone, it was her arms that comforted me.”


“It’s three minutes past midnight, Evil One. The time has come and gone. You have failed.” So said one of the hoodies, one who had been keeping in the background. He took off his hood, revealing a bald head wearing glasses. “I am brother Fidelio of the Sacramento. And I banish you back to the pit! BREAK ENTHRALLMENT!”

Suddenly the monsters were shaking their heads, and I could see in their eyes. They had their minds back again.

“Bonifa facum dispassionata!” Brother Fidelio was attempting to banish E.O., but the black heap wasn’t going quietly. The spectacled monk looked at the rest of us with a little frustration. “A little help here, people?”

In short order a giant club, a glob of web, a shot of pixie dust and a huge wooden table (the latter thrown by my son) were hurtling at the black blob. Each hit with effect, the blob becoming smaller, but still present. Fidelio continued his fervent chanting. Just then, a smaller hoodie shot past us and towards the blob while hissing-

“All you guysss, clossse your eyessss!”

We all obeyed. You don’t cross Medusa.

As our eyes were closed, a terrifying sound, like a sheet of metal being ripped in two, filled the ballroom.

“Okay. Ssssafe to look now.” Tish had replaced her hood around her head.

What was left of E.O. was just a big rock. He’d been turned to stone. Looks like once midnight had passed without the ritual completed, the old heap’s black magic could be used against him. Brother Fidelio banished the rock back to the pit with a simple “begone”.


Sheldon was questioning how brother Fidelio had come to be here. “I thought it was all over, and that Sacramento was in retreat. Brother Cassius-”

“Is too quick to give up and run,” smiled Fidelio. “When I heard what had happened, I determined to sneak in as a thrall and see if there was anything I could do. I had no power to interrupt the ritual, so I kept hoping for an opening, a miracle. And it happened, when this glorious girl decided to turn the demon child to good. A master stroke, young lady.”

“It’s Hayden, as in young man Hayden,” I laughed. However, I noticed that my demon boy looked at me with worry when I said it. “Fidelio — what about my friends? Can you make them normal again?”

“I can. With the Evil One’s power broken, it is a simple thing to restore your previous forms.”

“Me firsssst!” cried Medusa-Tish from inside her hood.

In short order, all of the so-called monsters became their normal selves. If you can call Jocko normal, that is. Fidelio at last looked at me, the only one left. “Your turn.”

But as I stepped towards him, my son screamed. “Momma! No! Please don’t leave me!” I looked at him. Physically, even intellectually, he was nearly adult; but his emotions seemed as fragile as any child’s.

“Honey, I’ll never leave you — I’ll just be a daddy instead of a mommy to you, see?” But I could tell — he didn’t see. He had fright and hysteria in his eyes.

And his skin began to turn from pink towards that hellish red hue.

Brother Fidelio frowned with concern. “Hayden,” he spoke, “you may have to make a sacrifice for the greater good.”


Ten years later, October 31.

I’m whipping up a good meal for the victory party. Every year that we get through without a recurrence of the Evil One is a victory. We’re not past danger yet, but hey, I’m thinking positive.

I now work for Sacramento. I’m a pretty valuable resource, having been one of the few who’ve come into contact with E.O. and remained alive.

Two years ago was the closest we’ve had to a recurrence. Some shaman in South America attempted the ceremony, but we found out in time and disrupted his plans an hour before he was scheduled to start the incantation.

My son, Daniel, is the superstar here. He’s like a real life Hellboy, only much more handsome. He has this incredible nose for sniffing out trouble, like he can feel worldwide shifts in the supernatural. He’s the one who found out about the shaman in time. And he only works for the good guys.

It took three more years of daily breastfeeding for the devil-red tones to disappear from his skin completely. Now, he can eat regular food, but just to be on the safe side, we avoid feeding him anything with a trace of blood in it — so that means no meat. In fact, he and we are all vegetarians now. And just in case I ever see the redness come back in the future, I had about ten gallons of my breast milk pasteurized and deep frozen in quart size containers.

My job is so easy. Mainly, it’s to make sure that my son is loved. And I do love him, even more than I love my husband, Sheldon. We’re a team, Shel and I. He teaches Daniel toughness, courage, conviction, and how to fight. I teach him courage, love, compassion, and more love.

Being a married woman with a demon-child was not my original plan in life. But I have come to enjoy being Haylee, a mother, wife, and world saver. Much more than I enjoyed Hayden, the lonely I.T. virgin. And speaking of virginity, I have come to enjoy my bedtime with Sheldon. It wasn’t easy, considering my first time was a demonic rape. But counseling and love got me past it, though it took a long time.

Ah. That text was from brother Fidelio. It’s three minutes past midnight. We’ve made it through another year. Let the party begin!




Acknowledgements to all the other BC writers, especially Morpheus and Melanie Brown, who have written fantasy adventure stories; your work has been an example and inspiration to me.

If you've gotten this far, please leave a comment! Don't make me reach through the computer screen and tweak your nose!

Thanks again for reading - Hugz! **Sigh**

If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
119 users have voted.

And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks. 
This story is 4353 words long.