Dylan was so busy fucking Stacy he didn’t hear the power drill come to life behind him. He was thinking how he was going to finish on her tits like he saw in the porn he watched earlier in the day when the spinning bit drove through the back of his head until the brain and blood-covered tip pushed through his right eyeball.

Stacy assumed the wet hot sticky fluid splashing over her naked body was a different body fluid. She opened her eyes and saw the spinning drill bit reverse itself back out of Dylan’s eye. 

Powertool Paul tossed the dead teenager aside and stepped into view giving Stacy an eyeful of his seven-foot frame. His face was covered in a welders mask and the sleeves were cut off of his blood-stained flannel shirt so his thick arms covered with the scars were visible. While it just appeared in the low light to be random cuts a closer look showed he had carved a series of ancient runes and symbols into the flesh.

 He revved the drill in his left hand and then did the same with the power saw in his right. He let them be silent so he could hear his next victim scream.

Stacy noticed the blood covering her belly and her breast was about to let out the scream of terror Paul wanted to hear when a voice from behind the massive man with the drill said.

“Are you fucking serious?”

Paul turned to see another young woman standing behind him. She was smiling.

He revved his tool again.

“Yeah, I’m like totally terrified,” she told him as Stacy rolled off of the couch and ran away.

Paul pressed the trigger down on the saw. A normal saw blade would stop spinning as soon as the trigger was no longer being depressed but this was no normal saw. The circular blade continued to spin as he threw it at the new girl. He planned to kill her and then chase down Stacy but the new girl shifted her feet and turned her shoulder. The power saw soaked in the blackest of magic flew past and stuck in the cabin wall.

The girl yanked it from the wall, reactivated the saw blade, and threw it back. The blade should have stopped spinning as soon as she let go, only he was supposed to be able to make it do that but it didn’t. The still whirling blade sunk into Paul’s chest digging into his flesh until the blade came to stop. Paul stumbled back and tripped over the sofa.

“Come on,” the girl told him, “We both know you’re getting back up.”

Paul pulled the saw out of his chest and tossed it aside before he rose to his feet.

The girl ran this time which was a tremendous relief since finally something normal was happening. Paul followed her.

His heightened senses picked up her scent and his night vision followed her smell until he could see her barreling through the woods around the cabin. Paul followed, walking at a brisk pace. He didn’t need to run and the fact was it was scarier if he walked since it prolonged the dread his inevitable victim would experience. He knew out here she’d get tired before she found help especially since she was running away from the road. The chance she would trip on a root or a rock was high enough he’d catch her soon enough and have time to go back and kill Stacey too.

The girl navigated the dark and the trees with ease. The light of the full moon seemed to be more than enough for her.

Paul still felt her victimhood was inevitable since she was heading right for the lake. Soon she would have nowhere to go and realize the futility of her flight. He hoped he would be close enough to see the realization come across her face.

 Paul watched her reach the water’s edge and then run up on the little fishing pier at the edge of the water. Under his mask Paul’s gnarled and burned face twisted into a smile.

The young woman reached the end. Unless she was planning to try to swim in the frigid water in the dark she was going to be Paul’s.

Pauls was revving the drill and closing the gap between them when something dug into his knee. He ignored whatever it was so he could concentrate on getting the girl but something stopped his progress.

He looked back to see the bear trap clamped onto his right leg.

“Walked right into it,” the girl told him.

Paul pulled on the chain but it held tight. 

“You could chew your own leg off,” the girl told him, “If you hadn’t left the saw back at the cabin you could have cut it off. I don’t think that drill is going to help.”

Paul kept trying to get himself free while the girl reached into the darkness. For a second her hand disappeared as if she’d reached into an invisible box floating in the night air. Paul assumed it was a trick of the moonlight until her hand reappeared holding a strange gun. 

The girl pointed the shotgun with a drum magazine at Paul’s knee.

She fired once and the leg not caught in a bear trap disintegrated just below the knee cap leaving just Paul’s steel-toed work boot standing on the dock. He lost the drill and the welders mask on impact. The mask bounced over the side of the dock but the drill was still with his reach.

Another shotgun blast put it back out of reach at least with his right hand since it was just a splatter of blood and bone on the wooden dock and he couldn’t grab anything with the bloody stump at the end of his arm.

The girl put the oversized shotgun back into the invisible box. When her arm reappeared she was holding a medieval-looking battle-axe that looked straight out of a Frank Frazetta painting. The double-sided axe looked too big for her to wield it effectively but she didn’t seem to be having any trouble holding it. In fact, she spun it around like it was a baton a few times.

Paul looked at her, if he could speak in his current state he would tell her she was wasting her time. He could not die. He concentrated on getting himself free with his one remaining hand. She could stab him all she wanted but he knew his wounds would heal. Given enough time his hand and lower leg would come back as well.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, “You did the spell and completed the ritual and know you think you invincible.”

This made Paul pause. He didn’t think anyone knew about the ritual. He certainly didn’t tell anyone.

The girl lifted her shirt and the gnarled scars where she’d carved the ancient symbols into her skin reflected in the moonlight.

He looked at the sword in her hand.

“You’re thinking you should have thought of something cooler when the time came aren’t you?”

In his current state, Paul couldn’t admit that he was the words just weren’t there. He did manage to blurt out, “You can’t kill me.”

“No shit,” she said stepped around him, and brought the blade down on his neck. 

She left the axe stuck in the dock and lifted up Paul’s severed head so they were looking each other in the eye.

“Other than blinking and thinking there’s not a lot a severed head can do though is there?”

Paul moved his mouth but without a voice box, the only sound he could make was his teeth slamming into each other.

“Sucks to be you, doesn’t it?”

Paul let out a silent scream and the girl lowered his face, She carried him by the hair back towards the cabin. 

Stacy still naked was trying to open the door to Dylan’s Kia Cube and somehow not managing to do it when the girl and Paul’s severed head approached.

Stacy screamed and fell to her knees.

“It’s okay,” the girl told her as she held up Paul’s silently screaming head, “He won’t be hurting anyone else again.”

“Who are you?” Stacy asked.

“Death Chick 666.”

“What kind of name is that?”

“It’s my gamer handle.” 

“Gamer handle?”

Death Chick 666 didn’t want to discuss cursed games and the business of selling one’s soul right now so she kept walking without explaining how and why she was what she was.

Besides she had more slashers to hunt before she could have her revenge.

There was a lot to do to make selling her soul worthwhile.



Look for the further adventures of Death Chick 666 right here and be sure to follow us on Twitter @10thrulebooks for updates.
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