05-30-2015, 01:05 PM
Dr. McNinja was standing in the Oval Office. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, or how he got there. In front of him stood a man in a graphite suit. His slender arms were crossed behind his back. Instead of a head, this man had a giant head of a bald eagle. Its beady eyes streamed a gaze that drilled into the back of his skull.
“Welcome to Dante’s Abyss! It’s a tournament where Primes from all over the Omniverse compete with each other in an exciting, new Verse! Are you ready for unsurmountable glory and innumerable riches? Are you strong enough to survive?”
”What?”
The eagle’s beak warped upwards, giving the illusion of a smile. Suddenly, the beak seemed to crumble into millions of pieces of dust, revealing a miniature woman inside the eagle’s head. The woman was also in danger of turning into dust, but was unable to move. Her arms and legs were already powderized, and her masked face was on the verge of fading. With a closer look, Dr. McNinja realized that the woman was his mother.
“Son!” her voice echoed, as if it came from a long distance away, though she was inches in front of him, “Help me!”
“Mom! What’s going-“
“Help me!” she repeated.
”I don’t know how to-“
“HELP MEEEE”
In an instant, Dr. McNinja’s mother had burst into a pile of powder. Dr. McNinja felt it coating his tongue every time he breathed in, no matter how hard he tried to keep it out.
”No, mom, wait-!”
Then, as if a vacuum cleaner had been turned on, the dust was sucked into a vortex inside the eagle’s head. The previously dematerialized beak reassembled into a distorted version of the head before. Now it was no longer just an eagle head - it had bulging eyes, pupils bursting at the very edges of the eyeballs - the two halves of the beak were torn open, as if someone had wrenched the eagle’s jaw too far open. The blood of the eagle’s head was now covering Dr. McNinja’s face. However, the blood was not red, as it should’ve been - it was black, grimy, smelly, and almost acidic.
”When I escape,” the eagle bellowed, “I will destroy all that which you cared for. I will destroy- Des-When I escap-When I-destroy-Which you cared fro-detrsyo-casep-“
”Who are you?!?” Dr. McNinja cried.
Suddenly, the eagle’s head completely split in half, revealing another head, irrecognizable at first. Then Dr. McNinja recognized the crown, which read “Most Rad.” around the rim, and the glowing crimson-purple eyes of Darkseid which burned like a thousand suns, screaming power and destruction. He recognized the permanent, furious laugh of the Nasaghasts stripping the face of its flesh, and the millions of everliving demons that he had sealed, along with Franz Rayner’s horrible neckbeard, and an all-too-familiar rainbow mane.
“You will see us soon enough,” a hundred voices roared, ”We are forever, and many in number. You can do nothing but fail to save them.”
”Save who?”
The figure reached out, arms extending agonizingly slow. Dr. McNinja found that he had lost control of his body - he could only watch as space itself seemed to stretch so that the figure’s arms would have more distance to travel.
Then, only pain. Pain that McNinja had never felt before. He looked down at his chest, and realized it was simply not his chest, but his back. His head had been completely rotated around the neck. He looked forward.
”Them,” the voice thundered.
”Us,” said another voice, which sounded like children speaking in chorus. The voice materialized as Gordito, the 11-year-old boy that he had taken under him. The ridiculous and almighty moustache he wore was now dangling by a small strip of skin from his lips, and a torrent of blood was streaming and trickling onto his shirt. It made a pitter-patter noise, like rain.
”You failed to save us!” the child roared. Dr. McNinja realized that it was not just children - it was all of his friends. He heard Judy, his gorilla secretary; he heard his father, mother, and even his brother, Dark Smoke Puncher; he heard every single Chuck Goodrich, from every alternate timeline; he heard Charles Gears, slowly disintegrating, still; he heard Benjamin Franklin, Old McNinja, Hortense; and finally, as if the torture was not enough, he heard the pained and struggling screams of his grandfather.
Gordito exploded, revealing his grandfather’s body. It was internally hemorrhaging, and the blood, as if it didn’t know where to go, started streaming from his eyes. His beard had turned bloodied and grimy. He opened his now toothless mouth, dangling his decaying tongue from the wrenched-out throat, and croaked, ”Sometimes people need to get killed.”
”Grandpa-“
McNinja’s grandfather’s jaw was also split open, but this time, Doc felt himself being sucked in. He managed to grab onto the rotting thyroid cartilage of his own grandfather. He looked down.
The throat was teeming and swarming with hundreds of thousands of ninjas, decaying, rotting, dying - the zombie ninjas. They were all wriggling and crawling up McNinja Sr.’s throat to get to Doc. ”Why did you kill us?” they were chanting.
“I had no choice-“
”WHY DID YOU KILL US!” they chanted. The zombie ninjas were now disappearing, giving way to other undead ninjas, all wearing labcoats. They were the McNinja clones - the McNinja clones that he had killed.
”YOU DIDN’T NEED TO KILL US,” they groaned, climbing farther and farther up the tunnel. Their nails seemed to grow, and they were clawing up the throat, rupturing it and causing blood to pour from the walls. All of their jaws were also dangling from their head, and soon enough, they had caught up to Doc.
”No, please-“
”YOU DIDN’T NEED TO KILL US”
”I didn’t want to-“
Suddenly, an undead version of his father lunged out from the bottom and clasped onto Doc’s skull. He dragged his son into the pit of undead ninjas, who were all clawing and biting at him.
”THIS IS YOUR FAULT,” his father roared in pain.
”I’m sorry!” Doc tried to say, when Hortense reached in his mouth and tore out his tongue.
”YOUR FAULT,” Hortense howled in a tortured voice.
He suddenly couldn't see anything, as the undead had now completely ripped him apart. Doc couldn’t tell if he was screaming.
***
When he woke up, it was in a rush. He slammed his head against a tree branch. He cried out in pain, and rubbed his forehead.
”Just a nightmare,” he comforted himself, ”Just a nightmare.”
Jak approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. ”Doc… you okay?”
Dr. McNinja looked at him. He wanted to cry, but found that he could not. His throat was hoarse. He sat up and reached for his duffel bag.
”Thirsty,” he muttered. ”Good morning.”
McNinja scowled. Jak thought for a moment, then though it best not to bring it up.
“Welcome to Dante’s Abyss! It’s a tournament where Primes from all over the Omniverse compete with each other in an exciting, new Verse! Are you ready for unsurmountable glory and innumerable riches? Are you strong enough to survive?”
”What?”
The eagle’s beak warped upwards, giving the illusion of a smile. Suddenly, the beak seemed to crumble into millions of pieces of dust, revealing a miniature woman inside the eagle’s head. The woman was also in danger of turning into dust, but was unable to move. Her arms and legs were already powderized, and her masked face was on the verge of fading. With a closer look, Dr. McNinja realized that the woman was his mother.
“Son!” her voice echoed, as if it came from a long distance away, though she was inches in front of him, “Help me!”
“Mom! What’s going-“
“Help me!” she repeated.
”I don’t know how to-“
“HELP MEEEE”
In an instant, Dr. McNinja’s mother had burst into a pile of powder. Dr. McNinja felt it coating his tongue every time he breathed in, no matter how hard he tried to keep it out.
”No, mom, wait-!”
Then, as if a vacuum cleaner had been turned on, the dust was sucked into a vortex inside the eagle’s head. The previously dematerialized beak reassembled into a distorted version of the head before. Now it was no longer just an eagle head - it had bulging eyes, pupils bursting at the very edges of the eyeballs - the two halves of the beak were torn open, as if someone had wrenched the eagle’s jaw too far open. The blood of the eagle’s head was now covering Dr. McNinja’s face. However, the blood was not red, as it should’ve been - it was black, grimy, smelly, and almost acidic.
”When I escape,” the eagle bellowed, “I will destroy all that which you cared for. I will destroy- Des-When I escap-When I-destroy-Which you cared fro-detrsyo-casep-“
”Who are you?!?” Dr. McNinja cried.
Suddenly, the eagle’s head completely split in half, revealing another head, irrecognizable at first. Then Dr. McNinja recognized the crown, which read “Most Rad.” around the rim, and the glowing crimson-purple eyes of Darkseid which burned like a thousand suns, screaming power and destruction. He recognized the permanent, furious laugh of the Nasaghasts stripping the face of its flesh, and the millions of everliving demons that he had sealed, along with Franz Rayner’s horrible neckbeard, and an all-too-familiar rainbow mane.
“You will see us soon enough,” a hundred voices roared, ”We are forever, and many in number. You can do nothing but fail to save them.”
”Save who?”
The figure reached out, arms extending agonizingly slow. Dr. McNinja found that he had lost control of his body - he could only watch as space itself seemed to stretch so that the figure’s arms would have more distance to travel.
Then, only pain. Pain that McNinja had never felt before. He looked down at his chest, and realized it was simply not his chest, but his back. His head had been completely rotated around the neck. He looked forward.
”Them,” the voice thundered.
”Us,” said another voice, which sounded like children speaking in chorus. The voice materialized as Gordito, the 11-year-old boy that he had taken under him. The ridiculous and almighty moustache he wore was now dangling by a small strip of skin from his lips, and a torrent of blood was streaming and trickling onto his shirt. It made a pitter-patter noise, like rain.
”You failed to save us!” the child roared. Dr. McNinja realized that it was not just children - it was all of his friends. He heard Judy, his gorilla secretary; he heard his father, mother, and even his brother, Dark Smoke Puncher; he heard every single Chuck Goodrich, from every alternate timeline; he heard Charles Gears, slowly disintegrating, still; he heard Benjamin Franklin, Old McNinja, Hortense; and finally, as if the torture was not enough, he heard the pained and struggling screams of his grandfather.
Gordito exploded, revealing his grandfather’s body. It was internally hemorrhaging, and the blood, as if it didn’t know where to go, started streaming from his eyes. His beard had turned bloodied and grimy. He opened his now toothless mouth, dangling his decaying tongue from the wrenched-out throat, and croaked, ”Sometimes people need to get killed.”
”Grandpa-“
McNinja’s grandfather’s jaw was also split open, but this time, Doc felt himself being sucked in. He managed to grab onto the rotting thyroid cartilage of his own grandfather. He looked down.
The throat was teeming and swarming with hundreds of thousands of ninjas, decaying, rotting, dying - the zombie ninjas. They were all wriggling and crawling up McNinja Sr.’s throat to get to Doc. ”Why did you kill us?” they were chanting.
“I had no choice-“
”WHY DID YOU KILL US!” they chanted. The zombie ninjas were now disappearing, giving way to other undead ninjas, all wearing labcoats. They were the McNinja clones - the McNinja clones that he had killed.
”YOU DIDN’T NEED TO KILL US,” they groaned, climbing farther and farther up the tunnel. Their nails seemed to grow, and they were clawing up the throat, rupturing it and causing blood to pour from the walls. All of their jaws were also dangling from their head, and soon enough, they had caught up to Doc.
”No, please-“
”YOU DIDN’T NEED TO KILL US”
”I didn’t want to-“
Suddenly, an undead version of his father lunged out from the bottom and clasped onto Doc’s skull. He dragged his son into the pit of undead ninjas, who were all clawing and biting at him.
”THIS IS YOUR FAULT,” his father roared in pain.
”I’m sorry!” Doc tried to say, when Hortense reached in his mouth and tore out his tongue.
”YOUR FAULT,” Hortense howled in a tortured voice.
He suddenly couldn't see anything, as the undead had now completely ripped him apart. Doc couldn’t tell if he was screaming.
***
When he woke up, it was in a rush. He slammed his head against a tree branch. He cried out in pain, and rubbed his forehead.
”Just a nightmare,” he comforted himself, ”Just a nightmare.”
Jak approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. ”Doc… you okay?”
Dr. McNinja looked at him. He wanted to cry, but found that he could not. His throat was hoarse. He sat up and reached for his duffel bag.
”Thirsty,” he muttered. ”Good morning.”
McNinja scowled. Jak thought for a moment, then though it best not to bring it up.
![[Image: 665000_mcninja_by_cavenglok-dch0qt5.jpg]](https://orig00.deviantart.net/3590/f/2018/193/c/8/665000_mcninja_by_cavenglok-dch0qt5.jpg)
Odd hours. Call for appointment.