Nilbog Hath Cometh

The following takes place some time after: Turks & Caicos

Returning from a business trip to Riga, Latvia, Master Devlin glided over the green and pleasant land of little England, heading for Waldoshire. Home.

As he drew nearer, he noticed something very off. Amid the blue skies and green fields, a dark, sinister cloud loomed where the town of Widdlington should have been. It was an ominous sight, and all the more troubling given that, days earlier, he had lost contact with Frakes and Waldo.

Still, he was a Master, and he was intent on getting to the bottom of this. Without hesitation, he swooped down from the southeast into the shrouded city and landed in the Council grounds of Waldobury.

Something was very wrong. The first thing he noticed was the darkness. It appeared to be night-time, though the sky gave no natural indication of the hour. A thick, dark green mist hung in the air, not enough to obscure his vision entirely, but certainly enough to unsettle. The grounds were deserted. Yet the signs of carnage were everywhere — blood-streaked pathways, scorch marks, fire-blackened walls. Buildings bore the scars of recent battle: explosive impacts, shattered windows, scorch damage. Kaz’s van, Pax Hamburgana, lay tipped on its side and ablaze. It looked as though it had been burning without pause for days.

“Oh dear...” the Master muttered to himself.

****

He walked through the centre of the grounds, calling out for anyone who might hear.

No response.

Then, suddenly, he pulled a classic Master angry face and shouted, “Widdle Frunkut! Did you cause all this damage? Where are you? Come out here right now!”

Nothing.

As he approached the infirmary, he saw what appeared to have been a makeshift barricade — now breached.

Hmm. Some sort of last stand, he thought to himself.

Inside were more signs of blood. Not all of it was red. A strange-looking severed arm lay by the door. Not human. Not dragon. Not even goblin.

What the hell happened here?

He stepped back outside and decided to head to the dorms, which, like everything else, were deserted — as was Waldo’s dumpster.

Next stop: Travers’ cottage.

As he followed the path through the park area, he got the distinct impression he was being watched — by someone, or something, in the trees.

When he reached the cottage, it was clear there was no more luck to be had here than anywhere else. No sign of Harris or Mayuri. Only the flesh-stripped remains of the dead whale still lying on their lawn, left there by one of Waldo’s plumbing antics.

Having exhausted all efforts to find signs of life within the Council grounds, he headed out through the gates and onto the streets of Waldobury. It was only a short walk to Travers’ old law firm office. He would try there next.

As he passed the Cathedral, something caught his eye — a warning, scrawled in green paint across the great doors:

“Repent sinners, for Nilbog hath cometh.”

****

The Master continued down the deserted yet claustrophobic streets. Suddenly, his pointy purple nostrils flared — he could smell blood. Human blood. And lots of it. Following his nose into a nearby alleyway, he came upon a horrendously mutilated corpse.

"Oh dear..." the Master murmured again, crouching to examine the shredded entrails of what had once been a young woman. She had been slashed repeatedly across the torso with what appeared to be enormous claws, and her head now hung loosely, barely still attached.

"Hmm... What could have done this?" he pondered aloud. "Claw marks are too big for a goblin. Lutin? No... slashing isn’t really their M.O. Almost like a bear... only bigger."

His examination was interrupted by loud screams from the main street. He rushed out to find a young, scantily clad Black woman being pursued by several demonic-looking creatures. The woman, seemingly recognising the Master, bolted toward him.

"Oh shit. You that dude! Please help me!"

Pushing her behind him, the Master faced the oncoming horrors. He was taken aback — in all his years of masterin’, he hadn’t encountered anything like these before. Scaly, horned humanoid beasts grotesquely adorned with an excess of eyes and teeth.

He raised a hand and attempted to communicate, demanding to know what they were and what business they had with the woman.

They weren’t in a talking mood, apparently. With a unified snarl, they charged.

"Fine..." said the Master.

He took a deep breath and unleashed a torrent of flame. The fire engulfed the creatures in seconds. Satisfied, he turned to reassure the woman that it was over—

Then came the cackling.

He turned to find the demons laughing hysterically as they casually walked through the flames toward him, large claws at the ready.

"Ooh, that tickles, don’ it, boys..." one of them finally spoke.

"...but nice try there, mate. It’s been a while since we ’ad a good chuckle. Tell you what — you ’and over the girl, and we’ll kill you quick. In fact, I reckon the boss would like to ’ave your ’ead on his mantle, all undamaged like. One quick swipe. ’Ead comes off. Won’t ’urt a bit... What do ya say?"

The Master had but one word to say: "Battle."

He lunged into action and started slashing at the beasts with his own large claws. One by one, he cut them down, cleaving off body parts and leaving the beasts scattered across the street in bits. The leader who had taunted him was the last to fall. The Master lobbed off his head quick and clean, just as the demon had promised.

Finally, the Master turned to the girl.

"It’s over now. For real this time," he assured her.

"Wrong again, sunshine..." the voice spoke from behind.

The Master turned in horror and watched as the creatures began rapidly growing new limbs.

"Regenerators? Damn it!" he yelled.

The Master braced himself for more combat as the demons approached.

"You're in trouble now..." said the leader with a wide, ghastly smile.

"Funny, I was about to say the same god damn thing..." came a voice from behind them. They turned around to find a young woman approaching.

"Look who it is, boys. Miss Revy. This day just gets better and better. Nigel ’ere ’as been itching for a rematch. Silly bugger is obsessed, he is. Looks like it’s your lucky night."

"I told you fuckers I didn’t want to see you around Waldobury anymore. These are my streets."

"And what are you going to do about it? Shoot us some more? Those silver bullets of yours sting, I’ll grant you that, but you can’t be serious."

"Silver bullets were the warning. And you’re all out of warnings. This time we play for keeps." The demons gasped as she pulled out a single gold bullet to show them what was in store.

"Buddy of mine, he says gold makes you stay dead and he made me these here bullets. And I’ve just been looking for an excuse to try them out... So go ahead, freaks, make my day..."

The agitated demons panicked and rushed her. With lightning reflexes, the girl whipped out her dual sword-cutlass Berettas filled with golden bullet magazines and, with sweeping grace, fired six shots — two going into each demon’s head — watching as they contorted and slumped to the ground.

She approached the three carcasses and kicked one to check. They appeared to be dead for real now.

"So, you wanna tell me what you two dumbasses are doing roaming around this part of town? You looking to be demon chow?"

"I’m Master Devlin. I work nearby for the council. I just got back from a business trip. What the hell is going on here?"

"Not much. Only an ancient evil has been summoned. Forces of darkness have taken over. Demon apocalypse. It’s a whole thing... What about you?"

"Uh... my name’s Chantelle. Me and my girl, Destiny, we’d been hiding out at the strip club where we worked before... before all this nasty-ass shit. Anyway, we ran out of supplies and things got crazy, so we were heading to Wallywood. Heard about this little green dude. Got some kinda army and safe haven at a mansion. He’s like a warlord or some shit. Apparently, they’re fighting the good fight — taking in refugees. Anyway, we got chased by those things and got separated. Oh shit... we gotta go back and find her."

"Your friend is history, sister... Found her a few blocks back. What’s left of her anyway."

"What? No... Destiny... shit... I mean, are you sure it’s her? It could’ve been..."

"I haven’t seen anybody else in these streets for days. And the body was fresh. Real fresh. You heard right though. There is a resistance in Wallywood. In fact, that’s where I’m heading back to now. If you want to come along, fine, but I ain’t waiting, and I sure as shit ain’t searching for some dead bimbo."

"I think that’s a good idea. We should go there. Now." The Master interjected. "Revy, is it? Kindly lead us to this... warlord."

Chantelle reluctantly agreed, and the three set off on a trek northwest across town. The Master attempted to question Revy more, but she seemed uninterested in conversing.

"Well, can you at least tell me... this warlord... is his name Widdle Frunkut by any chance?"

"Yep. That’s him."

"I see... He’s my pupil, you know... So how well do you know him?"

"You ask a lot of fucking questions... But yeah, I know him pretty damn well. I’m his fiancée after all."

The Master facepalmed.

"Of course you are..."

Season 5 continues in Sanctuary of Sleaze