SMURF KILL BY THE DAEMON The sun shined bright that day, with the clouds drifting in lazy circles above the heads of the little blue people below. BLUE! Yes, blue. Happy Smurf skipped down the lane of tall grass whistleing to himself. Today would be the best day of his life. Every 20 years or so, the Night of the Blue Moon would come, and there would be celebrations and festivals for nights and nights. Happy looked forward to the celebration as did most of the Smurfs in the village. Presently, he was heading for the town square to help in the preperations for the party. He turned around the corner of the street and the great town square came into view. Banasters and colourful sheets were everywhere, and all the smurfs seemed happier than ever. Happy began to sing, and was soon joined by countless other voices. "De De DeDe de de, De de de de de...." "de de dede de de, De de de de de. " Night fell. The smurfs were gathered around the campfire as Popa smurf told stories amd all of them ate a lavish dinner. After what seemed like days of storytelling, one smurf cried out. "Look! Poppa Smurf! The Moon!" Sure enough. The moment they had all waited for. The clouds parted to reveal the moon. Blue as the smurfs themselves and devided into two equal halves. But instead of shouting and bustling, the little blue people froze. Their eyes took on the look of death with what seemed a light, glassy glaze. All at once they stood, marched back to the village and gathered weapons. Any weapons. Pitchforks and roling pins. Kitchen knives and small, needle and thread bows. Marching....Marching off into the forest. Marching to the small town of cozy dwellers. "...de de dede de de De de de de de... "de de dede de de De de de de de." Somehow the singing lacked the same joyful sound it had just that morning. Somehow it was like a death song. A death march. Ruffy had always been a good dog. He had been told never to go into the forest, because he might get lost. But, ruffy wasn't worried. He had met a friendly boy on the way home from the building all boys and girls seemed to collect at during the day. The boy had fed him and now Ruffy had no worry of getting lost. He wondered in the little dog brain of his, if the boy had any more of that tasty white powder. Whoops. tripped. He had been stumbling a lot since he had met the boy. The boy had laughed at him as he staggered away, but he didn't care, he felt wonderful. What is this? Ruffy had just lifted his head from the fall to see a little blue man. Probably just another trick from the white powder. The man lunged forward sinking the pin up to the little man's hand in his tender nose. OUCH!! This was no effect! The little dog jumped and stared at the little man with anger mixed with pain and disgust. Blue men began dropping from the trees. Landing on his back and stabbing their small weapons into his black fur. He struggled and rolled on the ground, but all to no avail. Soon he felt himself weakening under the incredible pain inflicted by the little people. On they marched. Soon the small town of the humans was in sight. De de dede de de de de de de de... de de dede de de de de de de de. Tommy sat in the oaken chair that was usually his fathers on friday nights for football. But tonight, his dad was getting ready for bed because of something his mother said had to do with birds and bees. He had no idea what insects and birds had to do with why they were going to bed so early, so he assumed they were just going to fuck each other. He was most likely going to watch TV until his dad bid him otherwise. Ahh well, life was good. "Tommy? are you ready for bed yet?" "Yes mom!",He lied. He knew mommy wouldn't check on him, so he wasn't worried. Hours passed. De de dede de de De de de de de... de de dede de de De de de de de. Was that singing? No, just his imagination. He had better go to bed. It was almost after 3 in the morning, and things would get hairy if his dad caught him up this late on a school night. He walked to the bathroom and undressed, climbing into the shower. He was only ten years old, but his parents had forced him to become independent early. They were either fucking or fighting all the time, so he assumed he would just have to care for himself. The water fell on him like scalding rain. But it felt good to wash off the worries and troubles from the day. He was just about to climb out when the curtain pulled back, just a bit, to reveal a small blue man in a white funny cap. "A Smurf!" Tommy cried."I don't believe it! Who are you?" "Pick me up, Tommy. I have something to give you." The smurf was holding something behind his small back. He held it in the manner a boyfriend might hold a cluster of wildflowers. The boy lifted him up to his face to get a better look. "Here. let me look at you more closely." Soon the small man was stanging in a exact line with Tommy's nose. What happened afterwards was never quite known to poor Tommy. The small man lunged forward and stuck the pin he was holding a good inch and a half into Tommy's right eyeball. Tommy screamed. He ran down the hallway crying until he tripped over the side of the oaken chair and fell into it. Soon smurfs were covering his body. It was then that Tommy realized he was still very naked. Pins jabbed into every corner of his young body. He felt surges of sharp and dull pain in his groin as smurfs stabbed sewing pins into his gonads. Soon he just let them cut. The smurfs had smiles on their faces as they started to eat the already cold flesh of dead Tommy Hoskins. They began to sing as they cut away the flesh, devouring it like children in the cookie jar. They moved on. The hoard went to the next room down the hall and with combined effort opened the door. The room was dark, but the eyes of the little predators were used to the dark. Hefty Smurf walkad in as a scout. Although small, Hefty was strong and would be an opponent even if alone, but the precaution was unneeded. Ahead of him was a crib. Tommy's little brother. Hefty scurried to the side and climbed quickly up onto the soft pile of cushions and approached the baby. He was about six months old and was fast asleep with his thumb in his mouth and curled in the fetal position. Hefty walked with a expressionless face up to the chin of the child. Then, drawing a axe made from a razor blade found in the bathroom and a group of 3 toothpicks tied with a rubber band, he lifted it and swung with a downward arc into the soft, young, tender flesh of the childs throat. Instantly the baby awoke with pain throbbing through its very bones. It tried to scream, but only gurgles came. Blood was spurting out of the gaping wound in rythmic pulses arcing a good three feet into the air before falling back and staining the white sheets upon which the dying infant lay. Soon, all the smurfs were on the baby, taking out whatever sharp weapons they had and cutting off all they could eat... De de dede de de De de de de de... De de dede de de De de de de de. What was that? Well, Jon could have cared less. He laid there next to his wife. They had been fucking most of the night but she had grown tired and so they called it a night. Soon he fell fast asleep. What? Huh? Jon woke up with a start. Something had happened. The bed was wet as a swimming pool and he was sticky with it. "Aww shit! Wet dreams are supposed to stop after forty!" "Helen. Helen! Helen?" He rolled his wife over, and screamed. She had a peaceful look on her face, all exept for the fact that she had no eyes. Some one, or something, had gouged out her eyes. The gaping holes stared blankly at him, then he also noticed the long ear-to-ear slash in her throat and what looked like, yes, they WERE, bite marks. Tiny bite marks. Oh God. OUCH! They were on him! The bastards were on him! He jumped up to find his body covered with them. He picked one off and hurled it to the ground driving its head deep into its own torso. Others were stabbing him like madmen. He swatted at them like insects mixing their blue blood with his own. He felt himself weakining. He would get revenge. He would stop them. He reached for the shotgun above the mantle of the bedroom fireplace. Loaded. He put the double barrel in fromt of his face. Hundreds were clawing at his hair and eyes. The blast took off about half of his head splattering blood, bone fragments, and hundreds of smurfs against the far wall. Smurfs lay in piles suffering from severe gunpowder burns and some missing limbs where pellets had ripped them off and just layed on the ground spinning like flies without one wing. The remaining smurfs marched off leaving the wounded and maimed to die. The body of Jon and his wife began to stink even as the sun came up on a beautiful saturday morning. Tommys body lay in the chair. Sirens approached from a complaint about a gunshot at the Hoskin house. Tommy was sitting there. His body bloody with eyeless sockets staring at the still flickering TV screen where all of a sudden, little blue people called smurfs came in. "Hi Kids..." De de dede de de De de de de de... de de dede de de De de de de de...... ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: Stay tuned for SMURF KILL ][, REVENGE comming soon. Smurf Kill II Revenge By The Daemon What had happened. None of them new. They were sitting around the campfire where they had been the night before looking at papa smurf with longful eyes. Most of them were dirty and beaten, and some of them were missing. It had happened just as the legends fortold. " The smurfs will gather under the Blue Moon and night shall pass and morning shall come. None of them shall see the night pass, and some will never see the morning come." What could be done. They parted in silence, looking around to find some clue to the unknowen they had experienced. Soon it ws discovered that many tools and kitchen items were missing, and even a few of the smurfs were wounded. Hefty Smurf began to re-make the missing items after the search turned up nothing, and Happy Smurf began tending to injuries... "What the HELL happened!?" Roger had never seen anything like it in all the years he had been a police officer. The sirens wailed and the lights flashed outside the hoskin house. All of them dead. All of them. The whole damn family was dead. He had known Mr. Hoskins for years. They had played poker many a rainy night. But now there would be no moew poker. It looked like a massacre by Mr. Hoskins with a suicide to end the pain of a prison sentance, but Roger knew better. There were still a few things that could not be explained. First. What was the blue shit on the gun barrel? and why did he goudge out his own wive's eyes with a pin? Well, he would find out what was happening and fast. He walked from the bedroom into the baby's room and watched as the correner removed the body of the 16 month old baby. Throat slit and hair matted with blood. Somthing was VERY wrong. If Jon had the shotgun, why in the name of heaven did he use a butter knife to kill the kid. Psyco? WRONG! *beep beep* "Hello?" his beeper was a new toy for him, but he was annoyed at its sudden life at such a odd time. "This is Barkley. Get back to the station. There are reporters here about to knock the door down. We need a statement." "But I have to see the rest of this. He was my friend." "No dice. I need you here. That's an order." "I'm on my way." Rank pulling overpaid son of a bitch. His squad car pulled smoothly away from the curve and glided dowm the street as the people began to wake up on a sunny saturday morning. Whew! the work was done. The smurfs were feeling good again. They had fixed the damage and were happy and gay the way they used to be before the night. Happy smurf skiped down the lane singing to himself. De de dede de de de dede de de. de de dede de de de dede de de. Everyone in the smurf village was tending gardens outside their mushroom houses or baking somthing absolutely smurfy to eat, or maybe expanding to their houses. What a smurfy day! Roger hated paperwork. The killings had summoned up a lot of it, and as commanding officer of the investigation, he was intitled to do all this. The room he was in was dark save the light from his desk lamp and the soft light of the captains room were Barkley was also doing paperwork. There. It was done. He opened the file and jammed the papers in. Now he had to deal with Barkley. He knew the hoskins were not killed by a psychotic father, he just needed the time to prove it. He walked towards the door into Barkley's office. He quickly whiped his hands and entered. "Sir?" "Yes, Roger?" "I was wondering if I might get in on the investigation of the Hoskins family slaughter." "There will be no investigation." "What?!" "It was a psychotic father-kills-family case. Nothing more." "Thats just not true. You know there is more to it than that. He was a friend of both of us!" "Friends crack. There is no reason for an investigation. We have a explanation, thats good enough." "Sir, I really..." "End of discussion. Goodnight." "Goodnight sir." He drove home swiftly with the raido loud. After dinner at home, he weent to bed early and thought. Someone killed the Hoskins family. He would find out. He would get them. Himself. Papa smurf was worried. Nothing in the great book told anything about the possibility of this. Well, he would continue to search the tome for some answers. Any answers. Meanwhile, the little smurfs skiped and ran about in the afternoon light. De de dede de de de dede de de. de de dede de de de dede de de. The house was the way they had found it, minus the bodies. He walked through the hallway into the bedroom. The shotgun lay on the carpet next to the bed. He looked around. There was blood and more of that blue stuff on the wall. Keep looking, Roger. What was this? A bodie? Yes, a small bodie! The size of his hand. it was blue, and it held a pin. This was fantastic! There are gnomes? Confusion swept over him like a wave and he sat on the bed. Hundreds of little men. They had attacked and killed the family. In the course of the struggle, Jon had picked up the shotgun and blasted a few. That explained the blasts in the walls and floor. Then when all was lost, he blew his own head off to avoid the suffering. That had to be it. So now what. Where did they come from. The forest? A good place to start anyway. The dog was killed in the same mannor as Jon's family. They had most likely found this one on the way to Jon's house. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a baggie. He placed some of the body parts from the dead, blue, men in it. He would look at these later. *rustle, rustle* Roger dove behind a bush and watched the path. Barfy smurf was grumpy today. He had been gathering berries with some younger smurfs, eh...4 to be exact, and they had found less than he could do himself in an hour. No doubt those little rug rats were eating more than their share. What was this? a dog. A poor dead dog. oh, dear. They ran up to it and looked around. they were getting confused. "Barfy, there are dead smurfs here!" "I know. What happened?" The smurfs began to cry. He saw the little people gather around the dog's body and begin gathering smurf parts. Cannibles! He lowered his hand into More? his vest pocket, slowly removing the .45 revolver he had with him. He could see it now. Roger killed in fight with Gnomes. **BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG** >CLICK< >CLICK< >CLICK< The first shot took off half of barfy smurfs body leaving the head and legs lying side by side. The second, third, and fourth took off the heads of the other smurfs splattering blue blood on the bark of the sapling birch trees in the grove. Roger had unerring aim, yet one was missing. One escaped. Damn. He trudged on following the trail that the little ones had. His hands were trembling. He had tried to fire 9 shots out of a 6 shot revolver. Intelligence. He reloaded while he walked. Soon he found an open grove. He peered above the covering of tall grass and saw them. Smurfs. They were smurfs! Many of them. Lots of them. He looked on as they sang and skiped and danced singing a cute little song. De de dede de de de dede de de. de de dede de de de dede de de. He hated them. They were cannibles and murderers. He would destroy them. But how. How would he kill so many so...Got it! He had a stroak of brilliance. There was a field that led from the road to the smurf village. Soon, my little friends. Soon. Smurf life was back to normal. Happy ran in the grass playing with the children while smurfette was grooming herself. Boy, would this be a smurfy day or what! Night fell and the smurfs tucked themselves into their beds and slept with a deep, dreamless sleep. He ran his hands over the flank of his revenge weapon. He had cracked. His little brain had finally given way under the incredible pressure. Now he would return to the Smurf village and finish the little shits that destroyed one of his best friends. This would be fun. Real fun. fun. Happy smurf got up. What a Smurfy day! He was in charge of the little smurfs today, and thought he would bring them to the edge of town and play with the butterflys. After an absolutely smurfy breakfast, he gathered the children around him and skiped wth them out into the field. They ran and chased butterflys and were having the most fun their little bodies would permit. But, there was a noise. It had just started. "Hush smurfs. I hear somthing." "What is it, Happy?" "Shhhh...I don't know." It was a dull humm. But it was getting louder. It grew and grew until it sounded like a roll of thunder. Then with a start it became louder than anything he could immagine. Other smurfs had gathered outside and looked. Then, from the field, a monster appeared. It was bigger than eight smurf houses on top of each other and was being led by a human. The human was wicked with a smile that looked like it was painted there. The man led his roaring bast into the town. Happy gathered the children and ran ,ran, ran as fast as he could. The beast had a spout that shot out all that it ran over and thousands of pieces. It was comming after them. He ran, looking over his shoulder just to see the little children smurfs pass under the thing. Then, they shot out othe spout. Dismembered. Bloody. Broken. He screamed. There was a plaque on the beast, but happy didn't take the time to read. The man was behind the beast, leading it, guiding it. The man kicked the spout to face forwards. Now the beast hit the first house. It went under with a grinding sound and shot over Happy's head with a dismembered mother and child slamming into the trees ahead of him. Blue blood rained down and obscured his sight. He was tripping and falling everywhere, but he had to keep running. The beast moved slowly and the man laughed with the giggle of a madman. What could be done? Soon almost all of the houses were destroyed. All, but papa smurf's house on the hill. Happy ran to it, but before he could reach even the half way point, another house was hit. But this time the pieces hit him. He felt a tang of pain in his leg and went down. There was a weight on top of him. He looked down to see a splinter stuck through his leg, into the ground. He tried to remove the weight, and realized it was a smurf. He didn't know which one, because the head was gone. Blue bood splattered him in rythmic pulses and entrals were spilled on his coat from a slash through his stomach. He then saw the beast right above him. He screamed for it to stop! for somone to save him! All to no avail. The machine ran him down. Happy smurf was plastered onto a rock in many pieces. His head sliced open by the beast's whirling teath. His body crumpled against the remains of hs own house. The last remaining thought was what was on the plaque of the huge beasts face. It read: "JOHN DEERE". EPILOGUE: Papa smurf and Smurfette survived. They ran off and using Papa smurf's magic lived in the forest. They will never be the same. They hate humans, and will always observe the night of the blue moon. They are reproducing slowly. Roger was later picked up by another police officer, where he was commited to an Asylum for the rest of his life. The records said something about the incredible hatred for little blue nonexistant people called smurfs. ----------------------------------------------------------------- "Wow. That Roger is a wierd one." "You mean 0238? Yea. He believes in SMURFS! What a gas. Well, when I'm done in the lab, we'll go for a beer. Well, on the other had, Let's go now. This blue crud on Roger's boots can wait for a day. No hurry." "Sure. I'll get your coat." WATCH::::for other releases by The Daemon and Daemon Enterprises. Another comming soon.