Shout At The Devil

by Bucket of Skies

Chapter 2 : Hello? Memory? You there?

Can we please get to my part? I’m about to blow my brains out with boredom. Thank Lucy I’m immortal because I would have tried to throw myself out a window just to spice things up.

Will you relax? I’m getting there, I promise this is the chapter where you get introduced.

It better or else I’m going to take over this story and tell it from my perspective. Trust me when I say my perspective is six hundred and sixty-six times better than Rocky’s.

Good Grief! Sorry about the spoiler, someone couldn’t help themselves. But this is the part where things get interesting.

Right where we left off, I was off to my job at the Manehatten mall. Because I hadn't yet received the recommendation to move to an internship by this point, I had to spend one more day at my job at a shoe store. Al’s Shoe Emporium is probably the worst place to have a job. The way I got it came from me sending an application to the main mall office to look at my resume and decide the best place for me to work. Unfortunately my best job was already filled, as well as my second and third best. Al’s was my fourth choice simply to just fill in the space. I had been there numerous times and seen some of the employees who honestly looked like they didn’t want to be there. Within a month, three employees had quit from frustration from working there. What on Earth caused them to quit the job so soon in series?

“PEBBLES! Get your ass to the front! I swear you lazy bum, if you don’t get back to work by the time I walk over to the door I’m going to cut your pay by the minute!”, Al had yelled from the front of the store to me getting into my uniform.

Al was the exact opposite of Professor Wings. Instead of being someone who actually cared for you, Al was someone who couldn’t give a horse’s ass if you were late because of traffic or you had to stay after class. He only cared about making money and scamming us out of a decent paycheck. If you were to imagine what he would look like as a cruel and greedy old man, you’d be correct to imagine a four-foot nothing man with a gross, grey beard.

“Are you listening to me you numbskull?! I said get out of here before your paycheck gets cut in half!”, he yelled out again.

“Ah good grief.”, I said to myself as I hesitantly walked out from the back of the store.

“About time. This isn’t a daycare for you to lay around in. I need you to work. Here, I need you to go stock these. And then I need you to go walk around and help out customers. I’m far too busy counting the money I have to cut from you lazy bums.`` he said shoving a box of shoes in my hand.

I won’t go through what happened for the rest of the day detail by detail, but I can go over bits and pieces of it.

As you would expect from me trying to be a good enough worker to try and get a decent pay for the day, I tried my best to remain on my best possible work ethic. For the most part it worked until I was called by some mom with her young children. I had to help her and her extremely rambunctious children get the right shoe size while also dealing with the fact that I still hadn't stocked the shoes that Al handed me. It especially didn't help the fact that every time I gave the youngest one the wrong size shoe, he would throw it at me and just run off. In short, on top of me not liking to talk to people, I really don't like kids.

By the end of the day, I had only two things, a paycheck that was a quarter of what I usually get, and a shit-ton of stress. It’s easy to deal with the first one, just simply put it in your pocket and deal with it another day. However, the stress is a bit of another story. Sometimes I get over it and just head home and go to sleep, but this wasn’t like those cases. How do I solve these problems? It’s real simple, I’ll walk you through it on this day.

I was quick to throw off my uniform and get back into my regular clothes after I ran out of Al’s office and back onto the street. There was still light out before the five o'clock in the evening traffic and the crowd of zombies leave for the night (Or regular foot traffic if you’re boring). I try my best to get to the one place I got to for stress relief before the traffic starts up: Pixie Tavern

Pixie Tavern is a bar that I go to often when I feel stressed out, so pretty much almost four times a week. I know what some of you are thinking right now,”You of all people drink? You as a meek and shy kid drink like a true alcoholic”? You’re damn right I do. Thankfully I have a system that I use to limit myself from becoming a real true alcoholic. This system was developed by the bartender, Biff Bottle.

He taught it to me in very simple terms; find the most strong drink there (Some Vodka called Share), down a pint of it, and then let the drink do its magic. So far it’s worked like a science, although it does get repetitive with the same drink, plus the burn gets to be too much sometimes. To alleviate this, I ask specifically for him to make me a specialty drink that equals the same amount as Share and doesn’t burn my throat like acid.

As I entered through the door, Biff already recognized me and left behind the bar to greet me.

“Well if it isn’t my regular semi-alcoholic customer. How are you today Rocky?”, Biff asked me.

“I’m okay, but I guess I could be better.”, I told him.

“Well you came to the right place to try and be better. What’ll it be? What’s your situation?”, Biff asked heading back behind his bar.

“What do you have to remedy a stress filled day with a pissed off boss and a soccer mom with her out of control kids?”, I asked sitting down in a stool.

“Well, hows about we go with the good ol’ fashioned pint of Share?”, he said pulling out the bottle.

“I said I want to get rid of stress, not gain it from the burning in my throat.”, I said putting my head on my hand.

“Alright fair enough. How about Blackjack Whiskey with Coolcool Cola and a couple of shots of Vanilla ?”, He asked showing me the fresh bottle of whiskey with a white horse on it.

“Sounds good, but I may need a little more than that.”, I say looking at the napkin next to me.

“Shit. How about I shoot out some names; Wet Nanner Cocktail, Blackjack Special, Gin and Rummy, Vee deu Delta?”, he asked looking back at me.

“I don’t know, I just want something new. Something new to get rid of the stress in my life.”, I explained to him.

“Well that’s about all I got, I’m looking right now and it's nothing but what I said and beer. I think I know you by now to know you hate that shit.”, He said turning back to check on his shelf.

“Yeah, you know me well.”, I said to him.

“Whoa what the hell? I don’t remember getting this.”, He said reaching for something.

“Getting what?”, I said rising up.

“Some small travel size uh…...something. It’s quite dainty though.”, Biff said pulling out a small blood red bottle.

I took a good look at the bottle. It had a black label on it that said,”Shout at the Devil: number sixty six.”, with some devil horn hand gestures on it. He wasn’t lying when he said it was dainty. It was literally the size of a pocket whiskey, or as I like to call the wuss size.

"You said that you don't remember getting this?", I asked him holding the bottle.

"Nah, I keep track of all my drinks I get. Not once did I remember getting something like uh…"Shout at the Devil", Biff explained.

I don't know why, but the look of this bottle and the mystery behind it made me want to drink it. Not a sip, just drink it all in one go. For all I know I could've been drinking hot sauce and I wouldn't know it with the bottle being an opaque red.

"How much for me to have it?", I asked pulling out cash.

"Whoa whoa whoa slow down there friend! You don't even know what is in there. Why you want to take that risk?", He asked me.

"Oh come on, how bad could it be? After all, it could have been a donation from someone else at the bar for your great work.", I said praising him.

"First of all, no one would donate drinks to me in my bar. It's the other way around. Second, I don't want to be responsible for your medical bills if for some reason you drink rat poison.", he said to me.

"I'll take my responsibility for it. If I do go down, you need to take me to the hospital though. Say some shit like 'he fell and I'm his friend'.", I comprised with him.

"You're so pathetic in coming up with compromises. Alright, I'll let you drink it. But you better pay for your own hospital bill if you go in a coma from it.", he said handing me a cork opener.

"Alright, here goes. ", I said grabbing the opener.

As I poked into the cork, I felt a budge of resistance from it. It must've been really old if it felt that stiff, but hey, it adds age to it. As I slowly turned the cork to get it out, I felt the bottle shake from the amount of force I was using to try and open the bottle. When the cork finally popped off, I saw a bit of condensation emerge from the top of the bottle. Another weird thing was that I started to hear deep laughter, like deep evil laughter.

"Hey, you heard that right? You heard some laughing?", I asked anxiously.

"What? Oh, you mean the sound system. Just installed it today, I decided to play some weird movie soundtracks. Looks like I'm on 'Thursday the 14th'", he said pointing to the speaker behind me that had the laughter going on.

With my mind at ease, I slowly lifted up the bottle to try and down it all in one go. For some reason, it felt like the bottle was moving in slow motion as I lifted it up. What felt like hours, the tip of the bottle had finally touched my lips and I lifted it up to drink the contents inside. To my surprise, there was even less than I thought was in there, like a small squirt of whatever it was that I was drinking. As I finished the bottle, I slammed it down like a shot as I swallowed the liquid down.

"Well, what is it?", Biff asked me with anticipation.

"I….. don't know. It doesn't have a taste at all.", I explained looking inside the empty bottle to see if I still had some left.

"That's weird. Do you feel anything?", he asked me.

"No, I just feel like my regular self. Oh wait something is coming up.", I said as I felt myself let out a burp.

"Nice, that was the most anticlimactic result of a mystery liquid I have ever seen. Do you feel drunk?", he asked me.

"No, I feel sober. Like I think I just drank water or something. ", I said finally putting the bottle down.

"Oh well how about I make you someth-wah way wah wah wah…", Biff said as I witnessed his face mold like clay melting.

Then all of a sudden everything felt completely numb. My senses felt heightened and everything was moving fast like a timelapse. Then without my control, I felt that I had blacked out when I blinked and reappeared on the street moving like a timelapse up the street. With every blink, I felt myself move to a different place. I even think I ended up in a Strip Club for some reason. I remember this because I saw a bunch of women and a lot of flashing lights. There was some heavy bass music playing as well. But then the night ended with me opening my eyes to see a hand slap my face before I collapsed and blacked out again.

---

The next morning, I woke up wearing nothing but my button up shirt in my bed. My eyes felt fuzzy as my vision slowly got used to the light of the sun in my apartment. It felt blinding , but my eyes slowly got used to the lights as I rose up from the bed.

"Arrgh god. My fucking head.", I said to myself as I rubbed my head from the massive headache I had.

I reached over to grab my glasses. When I put them on, I noticed that my apartment was completely trashed. There was random garbage everywhere and some clothes as well. My clothes to be honest. As I stepped up from my bed, I saw that my pants were balled up with a massive red stain on the inside. I picked them up to examine them.

"What the hell? What did I do last night?", I asked myself throwing them off to the side to grab a new pair.

Then, I heard something that scared the ever loving shit out of me.

"You didn't do any of this buddy. The way your built, you couldn't even get a fraction of it up stairs.", a deep masculine voice said from the bathroom.

I felt my eyes widen a mile apart. Who the hell is in my apartment?

"Yo, who the fuck is there? If you don't show yourself I'll…… hurt you with something that is up here!", I said trying to look around for a weapon to use.

I managed to find a metal coat hanger. I don't know how much damage I could have done hitting them, but I knew that I could try and strangle them with it. Or at least try to.

"I swear if you don't show yourself, it's probably gonna be bad for you.", I tried to say in as tough a voice I could make.

I slowly walked to the door of the bathroom with the coat hanger in my hand, ready for anything to pop out. I felt scared to open the door, for all I know that I could be attacked by some cocaine filled Hobo with shiv.

"Okay, you're gonna open the door and be ready for anything. You wont run away because you are gonna be assertive and take out whoever's in there. Ready? One… two…", I said slowly pushing against the door.

The door pushed open and I got in an attack stance. I was disappointed to find that the bathroom was completely empty. I even poked my head inside to see if they weren't hiding behind the door. I felt myself calm down to the reality that I might be hallucinating.

"Oh jesus. What the fuck was in the bottle?", I asked myself as I put the coat hanger by the sink and turned on the water.

I took a few seconds to wipe my face down to try and get myself together.

"It's only a hallucination Rocky. You are still a little messed up with that drink. It's okay Rocky. ", I said hanging my head over the sink.

"Well 'Rocky' if it is a hallucination then what is that in your mirror.", the voice reappeared closer.

I looked up from my sink from shock to find that my reflection was replaced with an older looking guy with orange hair and peach skin staring back at me. The visual gave me a scare as I screamed out and nearly fell backwards into the shower. Not knowing what to do after seeing it. I ran out of my bathroom and drove behind my couch away from the bathroom. I peeked over to see a glimpse of the bathroom.

"Who the fuck is there and what are you doing in my mirror?!" I screamed out from behind my couch.

"First of all, that's a rude way of wanting to meet someone. Second off, I'm not in the mirror," the mysterious man said.

"Oh bullshit! What was that I just saw before I ran out?", I told the stranger.

"I'm not in the mirror, I'm right behind you.", he said suddenly behind me.

I turned around and nearly screamed from the scare again.

"Wait wait wait let's calm down! Let's turn the dial from six hundred and sixty six to three.", the man said.

"Calm down? I just woke up half naked in my trashed apartment with no memory of last night besides me drinking whatever was in that bottle of stuff at a bar. And then I see a teleporting man--", I exclaimed before being interrupted.

"Teleporting demon. I worked hard for my title to not be called anything other than that. Please get it right.", he explained.

"Demon?! Okay, I'm officially hallucinating right now.", I said to myself as I tried rubbing my eyes to clear my head.

"You realize it doesn't do shit when you rub your eyes to try and get sober right?", he said.

"I have got to get the fuck out of here to get you out of my head.", I said getting up from the floor.

"Walking away isn't going to do anything either. I'm a demon. I don't go away.", he said.

"Shut up, you aren't real! ", I said walking out of my trashed apartment.

I slammed the door behind me before running my down the stairs of my apartment building trying to figure out what was going on with me. I reached the second floor of the apartment and realized I could ask Dee for help. I couldn't remember what happened last night, but maybe he could help me since he is always here. As frantically as I could, I knocked on his door. Not long after he came by to open the door.

"Well if it isn't lone runner! What's up man.", he said before I frantically answered.

"What happened last night?", I asked out of breath.

"What? More importantly what is going on? You look like you are on the run from the cops or something. ", Dee said noticing how restless I looked.

"Look, I don't have a memory from last night. Some crazy stuff happened and I need to know if you saw me with someone else who brought me back to my apartment.", I said finally catching my breath.

"Nah, I didn't see you. Although I did hear some loud racket. Like someone was beating on a trashcan or something. ", Dee explained.

"Oh good. I thought I was losing it with a hallucination of someone in my apartment. ", I said with a sigh of relief.

"Nope, didn't see anyone. Just stayed here and wrote my comics.", he said stepping off to the side revealing his apartment.

I thought I escaped, but he was back. And he was holding up a book.

"Wow would you believe this guy? This guy is such a weirdo that he wrote a comic about a pony falling in love with a bird creature online. Who the fuck comes up with this shit?", the demon I tried to outrun said with a laugh from inside the apartment.

"Ahhh! There he is!", I exclaimed aloud pointing at him.

"Who? There is no one there", he said looking in the direction of this demon.

"Don't you see him?! He is right there!", I said to Dee.

"Uh buddy, what are you talking about? Are you okay?", He said trying to approach me.

"Oh god, oh God oh god oh god!", I exclaimed while running downstairs again.

"Hey wait what are you-", Dee exclaimed to me before I ran out of the door to the streets.

I ran as fast as I could. I think I ran over a couple of people in the process, but nib it was all in good reason. I couldn't fathom what was happening to me. Am I losing my mind? Am I going insane?

"I need to get to Biff, he's the only one who can fix this problem for me.", I said to myself as I approached a taxi.

I don't know why, but it felt right. I needed to sit down and relax to figure out what was going on. With a jet in my step, I waved down the nearest taxi and threw myself into his car.

"Hey. Take me to the Pixie Tavern.", I demanded the driver.

"Hey man what the fu-", he said looking back at me.

"Just drive the fucking car!" I yelled out to him making him take off.

The streets were surprisingly clearer than usual. No traffic, and not a lot of foot traffic either. That was strange, but not as strange as whoever's following me. Looking back at him, he looked like some sort of dad looking character, except without a beard or anything like that.

"Sorry I couldn't fit your type of dad look Rocky, but that's not me bucko.", the stranger said suddenly appearing in the rearview mirror in the front.

Panicking again, I dove out of the taxi. Thankfully it wasn't going fast enough for me to get hurt from the pavement. I think the driver called me a crazy person whenI got up, but I didn’t care. I saw the source of all my problems right there.

As restless as I could, I ran straight to the door of the Pixie Tavern. When I entered, I nearly fell over from me being unbalanced. I managed to make so much of a commotion that the people in the bar stopped what they were doing to look at me. What I thought was the stranger following me from ahead turned out to be Biff coming from behind the bar.

“Rocky? What the hell you aren’t dead? Holy shit that’s radical.”, Biff said lifting me up.

“What happened?”, I asked.

“What do you mean? You just got back. I swear I thought you were passed out in some dumpster.”, He said grabbing me a chair.

“What happened last night after I drank it?”, I clarified to him.

“Oh, you mean after you drank that drink. You just sat there silent for a little while. I think you were high on something. Then I turned around for a second and you had completely disappeared. I tried to look for you, but business came in and I needed to get back to work.”, he explained.

“Oh good grief. I’m going insane from whatever I took last night. I’m probably gonna have an addiction or something to whatever that was..”, I said to myself laying my head down.

“Well, you sure didn’t come in asking for more of that stuff, so you might be fine. I wish the bottle was still here, but it disappeared with you. Where the hell did you go?”, he asked me.

“It’s all fuzzy, but I think I ended up at some strip club. That’s about all I remember”, I said still laying my head down in my arms.

“Whoa, you must’ve went to a tattoo parlor as well!”, biff said with a surprised tone.

“What?”, I said shooting up from my arms.

“I see a glimpse of it on your back, check it out.”, he said pulling out a mirror and putting it behind me.

I looked behind as I lifted up the back of my shirt to see. I was shocked to see that on the upper left part of my back was marked with a tattoo with a pentagram emblem with the number sixty-six.

“Oh my god!”

Author's Note:

Sick tat man