A flannel stained in blood.
OVA - zero.
SOUNDTRACK FOR THE PROFANE
My name is… Scarlet. Scarlet Rose, actually. Adjust glasses. On nose. Think of me, as Jessica Alba. In a flannel. Kim Possible, post-exorcism. A shy and timid bookworm. Studious, and in college, a research assistant. I was… until my grabby hands fuckin’ professor tried to feel me up then turned into a freaking tentacle faced Cthulhu freak.
That was how it all started. How I found the Nominonica. How it branded me the Skull Sigil. How I then inherited the soul of Hades. How she first came into being. I don’t think of me, myself. And her. As being the same girl. I mean, she is so fierce… so fucking confident. Brave like storming into a frat party with a crowbar to get the girl you literally love like a freaking sister out of the drooling hands of a drunk wolf man in an upstairs bedroom pulling her pants down around her ankles. I surprise myself like that… sometimes, but other times. I’m too shy to speak. Too timid to ask someone to move in a store so I can get to the item I need… been there before? Maybe I’m just like super total weirdo type shit. Maybe.
I guess, the warrior goddess… was somewhere in me. Before the book. Before I got branded the skull banshee. But after she came into my being. I saw us as two very different beings. I am Clark fuckin’ Kent. She is the fucking Superman. Not the hero the world deserves… because honestly it doesn’t. Deserve her… the sacrifices she has made of her body and mind Her soul and her spiritual fortitude. But she is the hero the world gets.
In 2025… regardless of James Gunn’s opinion, about it. Superman isn’t a man, at all. SHE is a woman. She bleeds once a month. But for multiple days, and it sucks. It really fucking sucks having a damn freaking period.
But that’s the power of being a woman. We can bleed from our guts for days on end like we got stabbed, and still have the power to cuss you out, and navigate the world of wolves and not get eaten by one. We are the shit. Women… are fucking warriors. And we have always been the strongest on any battlefield of men. Thatz where she comes into all this. The Rose. Warda. The war goddess. And she is the reason I have to keep killing the fucking wet ones that just won’t stop slipping through the cosmic wet ass pussy following me through the rift. My eternal curse. The curse of the black flame.
***
“Osiris. Now iznt the time. We’re going after Scarlet. Why are you talking about your fuckin’ dick right now?!” Eve is furious.
Osiris’ eyes are frantic. He’s looking around and like pleading. He just asked her to have sex with him right now. The realization the last time was the last time is now setting in, and he can’t fuckin’ take it. Itz breaking him inside. How could the last time he held her in his arms be the last… he needs more of her… he has to have it… but she refuses him.
“We’re about to jump into an ultimate death battle to tie up the loose fucking ends of all that Merlinverse fuckin’ wonderwarp… dreaming war shit. What the fuck?” She puts a hand up to dismiss him then she walks off. In that moment… Osiris knew it was over between them. His heart shatters. He knows the sacrifice it’ll take to kill off the betrayer of Merlin to launch the sequel series. And he doesn’t want any of it… he iznt down for the fuck shit. Every god turned cat is happy as a man-cat banging a hottie goth girl. Until I decide itz time to strip his powers and take his denim and leather… and put the cat back in the cosmic litter box. No more sex shit, Osiris. You’re done. Thatz how it has to be.
***
Scarlet awakens from a weird dream. It feels like a memory she forgot. But as her eyes flutter open she immediately begins to forget. It was about… a man-cat dressed in all black denim and leather. Huh…
She blinks her eyes awake, then climbs free from bed to go pee. She slips off the toilet into the shower and gets dressed to start her day. The dream memory is like a million miles away now. For the moment.
***
Kelly punches the bag. One two. One two three. One two. One two three four. One. two. one two three four… she was always the victim. Always somebody’s punching bag. Her mom’s. Her dad’s. Her sister’s. The girls at school. Bullied. Beaten. By peers, and by her own family. By a few boyfriends in her teen years back in high school. Guys she now sees were way too frickin’ old for her.
But she didn’t know that back then and has some daddy issues. Can I call you daddy… she whispered in the dark. No guy has ever said no. To a girl calling him daddy in bed. At least, I never have… but maybe thatz just me… I love a daddy’s girl. They need a lot of love… and a guy like me that writes about mystic knight super girls has a lot of left out love to give.
Kelly had always been someone’s punching bag. Prey for predators. Until she met her best friend. Scarlet. In college. She found in Scarlet, a legitimate real-life superhero. The night she came rushing into that frat party clutching that crowbar like a maniac yelling and waving it around, and proving she was not scared to fucking cave those drunk assholes fuckin’ skulls in. Everything changed that night… for Kelly. Nothing has been the same since then… not for her.
No more getting too drunk and letting guys take advantage of her. Because she felt like she deserved it. No. No more being a punching bag. Now she’s the one doing all the punching on the punching bag. Training in boxing and MMA. Six days a week. All she does is train. But she is nowhere near as badass as the most awesome best friend soul sister a girl could ever dream of. Scarlet really is a freakin’ badass. And she is so glad to be her friend. She loves her as a total sister. Even though they aren’t real ones. But sometimes, family is the people choose. Not the ones that fuckin’ hit you all the time.
***
Scarlet brushes her slightly curly red hair out of face so she can actually see out of her glasses. They’re thick as a car’s windshield. Her face is angelic. She looks like Marylin Monroe trying to play timid librarian in the hallway. As if putting on eyeglasses is a way of making her in anyway less attractive, and not the ultimate studious college girl fantasy of every horny guy that never got laid enough in life.
She dresses in flared blue denim jeans, and has on a pair of black flip flops, and a tank top under her flannel. Vintage flannels kick so much ass. Working in the bookstore is the fiber of her being it grounds her in the chaos. In spite of the fact, she sometimes has no choice but to go running out on her shift and go fight monsters in a parking lot a few blocks away. Then comes back, no glasses, and can’t see. She keeps trying to get Warda to stop throwing them and breaking them every time she transforms but she hasn’t figured out an actual way of communicating to the war goddess. Maybe I try to write it on my arm…
A sudden twinge in the cosmic ether draws her attention towards the front display glass window. Somewhere outside, a rift has opened. And the wet ones are getting through it… itz fucking hero time. Sorry Ben Ten but I couldn’t think of anything else.
Scarlet goes to the store manager and says she has an emergency and has to run. She duznt await a response. She runs out. Commonplace. It’s been months now and, in the time, she has worked here, Scarlet has had to transform and fight monsters on more than one occasion. Like three or four times actually. After a while the battles begin to bleed into each other and become one singular acid trip in hell.
Her banshee sigil is glowing. On the back of her hand. The tattoo marking that serves as her brand to the Book of Dragon Blood. The book actually condensed itself into the marking and forms the sigil. From out of the sigil she summons the black flame sword of the underworld. Euronymos… the necrosword.
Scarlet can sense the rift. She runs towards it blindly never slowing down to stop for people she literally shoves out of her way. She already feels the goddess taking over as her adrenaline pulses. Duznt even have to be the full metamorphosis. Warda is crying out for the sacred warpath. Her heat spreads from her lower abdomen through to her chest and smothers her under the flames.
The flip flops disappeared like five, six blocks ago. Running barefoot in flares. And a flannel. That’s me. Scarlet searches the street for any sign of carnage. Then she hears the first screams from someone getting torn apart by nasty green skinned fishy frog god monsters. They look like Pepe the frog turned into a half Cthulhian tentacle head by malevolent occult magic. Thatz basically what the “wet ones” are. They are the hive mind embodiments of Cthulhu the god in the deep. They are like his limbs. Fingers, and toes. Arms, and legs.
Her sigil has some attachment to them. It makes the rifts open, and the Eldritchians come pouring through. But itz easier if we just call them the wet ones. Cuz they’re all squishy and gross and wet, like jellyfish. They spew blueish green crud sludge when you cut into them. Scarlet raises her hand extending her arm, palm open, and she yells out, “Euronymos!” Calling for the necrosword.
It manifests from a sudden combustion of black necroflames that swirl around her hand giving rise to the ominous looking sword. Itz entirety is all black and has a tiny skull face thatz embedded in the hilt. The little skull eyes glow on it. They glow an eerie green. Her eyes are green. They glow too… when the transformation occurs.
Her short curly red hair grows long way past her shoulders. Halfway down her back to her ass almost. It turns a bit darker. More red. She throws her glasses. They break on the ground somewhere. Warda is taking over her now… the war goddess becomes the living being of Scarlet as she gains full control of her body and mind. Scarlet can see it all. The carnage in the battle. But she can’t do anything. Warda is now in the driver’s seat… the way it is for her… when Scarlet is in control… the rest of the time. They are like twin sisters sharing a single body.
Warda rushes the wet ones. And she swings the sword. Cutting them in half by lethal blows from its necroflamed blade. Chopping the gross ass fishy frog creeps into bits…
***
Scarlet wakes up in bed. She knows how she got there. She’s naked. And she’s warm. And she can feel a cock on the back of her thigh. The guy Warda fucked all night, and she loved every minute of it. It was the most thrilling thing she has done for weeks. It always happens. Warda likes to fuck. She gets turned on, after a battle. She needs the release from combat, and seeks it, by conquest. With men. Scarlet is basically asexual. But not because she iznt every horny. Or wants to have sex… she likes cock. She likes cock inside her. It feels great. Incredible, cock.
But she is too timid. To ever invite it, into her life. Thatz what Warda is for… to claim the cock, she is too afraid to go after… even… when she wants it.
Scarlet scrambles from the bed. The guy is too tired to rise from false death. Pleasing a war goddess. Drains every fluid in your body. Leaves you lying there like a dead body for hours afterwards. Guy knew his shit. But still… men have limits. Warda has none.
She goes into the guy’s bathroom and finds some scissors. Begins to cut all this extra fucking hair off. Warda has long hair. Scarlet duznt. Not having her glasses makes this problematic but itz happened enough times she can basically do it, off memory alone. The muscle memory of the act. Like last night. The memory flashes through her mind and she feels it, between her legs.
Fuck, he made me cum really fucking good. I think I… wanna go fuck this asshole some more… Scarlet crawls into bed. As if she is still the war goddess. Waking him up. He is gonna have to please the goddess more. She climbs on his hard cock as if she is still the war goddess… but… for now… she is the war goddess. Scarlet, not… Warda.
GOLGOTHA - 4: WARDA'S WAR
“Wait a second.” Dumas speaks. “We’re doin’ the Golgotha shit. On Scarlitverse.” He asks. But it ain’t really much of any type of question. This mf likes to hear himself be the center of attention. His problem.
WELCOME TO THE FUCKING SCARLETVERSE! SHEZ THE NEW SUPERHERO THE WORLD NEEDZ. BUT ONE IT DUZNT FUCKING DESERVE… more iZ OTW.