Kung Fu Nuns

Now, I've been known to lie, but this story I am about to share with you is one hundred percent true. It may seem incredible at times, and at others you may think it borderlines the fantastic, but this is a very real account of one night in my life several years ago.

It was the twelfth of June, 2012. I had just gotten off work and made my way home, then to the kitchen where I immediately pulled a beer from the fridge and sat in my recliner. As I kicked off my Wolverine work boots, I looked for something to watch before attempting to enjoy the beer, then I happened upon The Big Bang Theory. "Good enough," I told my empty apartment. I set the remote down and moved the beer toward my lips when my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, but that didn't stop me from delaying my alcohol consumption long enough to say, "Hello?"

"M-Michael?"

It had been so long since I last heard her voice. Even still, I immediately knew it was my sister, "Shelly?" The last time I saw her was in court, where I was trying to free her from a lesbian convent cult. My own attorney pulled the okey-doke on me, though, and filed papers on behalf of the Sisters of Merciful Grace to keep me from interfering with their business. That was three years ago, so why would Shelly be calling me now, especially seeing as to how hers was the most outspoken voice against me?

"Michael. Please. I don't have much time. I ... I escaped, Michael. I finally got away, but you have to hurry before they find me again."

"Where are you now?" I asked frantically.

"It's some fleabag motel on the southside. Casa Royale, I think. Third floor, room 3-B. Hurry, Michael." Then the line went dead.

It would take me an hour to get there. Hopefully I wouldn't be too late. I reached down for my Wolverines, but then opted for my cowboy boots. My "ass-kicking boots," as I liked to call them.

When I arrived, I found a black man dressed in a white T-shirt and blue jeans standing in the middle of the room, surveying the carnage that had been wrought. His arm was in a make-shift sling. "Who you?" he asked me.

"Who're you?"

"I'm the owner. Who you?"

"I'm the brother of the woman you rented this room to," I told him as I approached.

He backed up and into a corner. "Look, I don't want no more trouble tonight, man."

"What happened to your arm?"

"It was those damned bitches." He immediately made a cross in the air, kissed his forefinger, then pointed to heaven. "Sorry, Jesus." Then, back to me, "It was those witches, the ones from the convent."

"And you just let them take my sister?" I asked in my ignorance.

"What was I supposed to do" he asked in return. "Last time I got involved with them bitches, they put me in the hospital for six weeks. Even after my insurance paid, I still owed over half a mil. Made me have to file bankruptcy."

"Is that what happened to you tonight?" I asked. "Did they give you a friendly reminder of what would happen if you got involved?"

He looked at his arm and laughed, but there was no mirth to be found. "My daughter did this to me. You hear me? My own flesh-and-blood daughter. Yeah, she's caught up with them bitches, too. I tried to stop her, reason with her, and she damn near tore my arm right out the socket."

"Where did they take my sister?"

"Back to that damned hell house of theirs, more 'n likely."

"Well, I'm going after her," I apprised him. "You want to come?"

"I ain't going anywhere near that place."

"But ... Your daughter—"

"Is where she wants to be."

"You can't believe that," I said to him. "You know she's being held against her will. Why else would you try to stop her tonight?"

"That was just out of what the old folks call worriation."

I stepped close to him, putting us nose-to-nose. "If your arm wasn't already busted up, I'd kick your ass for you, you damned coward."

He sank to the floor, crying. "I know. I know," and that is how I left him.

I made my way to Hell House and surveyed the grounds as surreptitiously as I could. It was 9:45, so I had the cover of darkness on my side, but it also served to cover any defenses the good Sisters may be employing. After assuring myself that there simply was no quick, quiet way in which to gain entry into the convent, I walked to the door and kicked it in only to find ... nothing. Not a single person, not a single thing. I was standing in a foyer bereft of décor of any kind. It was just white walls and hardwood floor and nothing more.

I took a step, then I heard it. Growling. Low, bestial. Then about fifteen yards ahead of me, I saw the daemonic brute. It was a rottweiler. It tensed. Remembering the lessons my father taught me when dealing with wild beasts such as this, I assumed a karate stance, then turned my right hand into a spearhead. It charged. I maintained my position. It gained speed. I never faltered. It leapt, barking loud, slobber flying from its mouth. I pushed my arm forward with every ounce of strength I had, and just as soon as I felt my hand slide down the fiend's throat, I clenched it into a fist as I brought it down hard upon the floor. I drove a knee into its exposed ribs and kept my full body weight on it, waiting, just waiting.

The dog thrashed about with its claws, rending my flesh. It gnawed more out of panic than a sense of protecting its masters, tearing my flesh even more. Then, finally, its movements slowed as the animal became more and more enfeebled from lack of oxygen, then it died. Just to be sure, I broke its neck once I removed my hand from inside it. I surveyed my arm. I was bleeding, but there wasn't anything too deep.

I looked up and saw a dim light coming from a doorway. That was my next destination. I made it there to see that it was a stairwell leading down. My arm had really begun to hurt, but my adrenal glands were pumping their precious, fight-or-flight hormones throughout my system, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. For the record, I was here to fight.

Once I had bottomed out, I came across a floor of cells. All were empty except for one, which housed a small, Asian woman. "Please," she said to me when I looked in. "Please help me. "The things they make us do ... It's awful."

The door was secured by a latch only. I unbolted it, allowing the woman freedom. "Oh, thank you so very much. I owe you my life."

"Just help me find my sister."

"Then you'd better come this way," she said as she led me forward. "If she's not down here with me then there's only one other place they'd have taken her." She led me to a room that was thirty feet in circumference. "Each one of these leads to a cell," she told me of the twenty red doors that peppered the wall. "Shelly should be in one of them."

"I never told you her name was Shelly."

She slowly turned, a huge, beautiful smile on her face, then she quickly kicked me in the nads. I doubled over from the pain. I vaguely remember seeing her fit brass knucks on her right hand—wondering where she had kept them—and the next thing I knew she was cracking me up side the head over and over again until I fell to one knee. She drew back as far as the Canadian border to deliver the death blow, but I pushed myself up and violently drove an uppercut to her chin. She flew five feet up and ten outward before hitting a wall and crumpling to the floor. I stumbled toward her and cautiously looked. I had driven her jawbone out behind her ears.

I grabbed the brass knucks, fitted them onto my own hand, then began checking cells one-by-one. They were all empty. There was silence in this great hall of pain and torture and God knows

what else, then I heard it. The tiny rustling of chains. "Shelly?" I cried out.

"Michael. No."

I followed her voice to a throne at the back of the room. "Shelly, it's okay. I'm here now."

"No, Michael. You must leave. I was wrong. My place is here."

"Shackled like a slave?" I asked in disbelief. "They've brainwashed you again, but we're going to get out of here and get you some help." Amid her protestations, I searched for a way to remove her chains. Finally, I just grabbed them and pulled, jerked, heaved, hoed, over and over again until the concrete around the bolt began to crack, then I uprooted the damned thing. "Come on," I said as I lifted her, but she continued to fight me. We had gotten about halfway through the room when it erupted with light.

There was a cackling laugh. I turned toward the throne to see a woman wearing a nun's coif and nothing more. "Mother Superior! Help me!" my sister screamed.

"You must fight, child," the old crone told her.

Shelly turned on me, and for the second time in less than fifteen minutes my nuts were abused in the unkindest way. I dropped the chain as I fell to the floor. I looked up to see my sister run back to her abductor. Upon reaching the throne, she dropped to her knees and affixed her mouth on the eighty-plus year old's pussy.

"Yes, my child. Sup at my table. Give supplications of good praise and great thanksgiving to your one, true Goddess."

"Shelly, don't!" I cried out, but to no avail. She was under the old biddy's spell.

"Ladies, it's time to deal with this vermin once and for all," Mother Superior said, and no sooner had the words left her mouth than the whole fucking cloister descended from the ceiling like nude, female ninjas. "Attack!"

They slowly circled me. Despite having been kicked in the balls twice already, I felt I could take out the twenty or so bitches intent on serving me to their master. The first ran toward me, but I spun and caught her on the chin with a backhand, the same backhand sporting the brass knuckles, thus sending her to the ground. Three more. I brogue kicked one in the chest, elbowed one on the jaw, then used the third's own momentum against her and sent her skittering along the floor. Then I heard, "Hyyyyyyy-Yah!" It was the little Asian woman I first met in the catacombs. She had returned, and she caught me with a well-placed kick to the back of my neck. I was momentarily unconscious.

I awoke to find my boots and pants had been stripped off me. A sister was holding down each of my arms—the brass knucks had been removed—there was one on each leg, then there was one hovering above my face. She had the most beautiful pussy I had ever seen. She dropped it onto my mouth, and I immediately began eating it for her even as another crawled upon my cock and began to fuck me. "Yes," I heard Mother Superior call. "Fuck him well, my sisters. Carry his seed within you that we may forge a new paradise upon this earth."

That's all I needed to hear. I began to struggle, but there was just too many of them. I felt my legs grow weak as my cock stiffened, then I ejaculated into the crazed nun's pussy. "Oh, yes," she said deliciously. "I have his sperm, Mother Superior."

I fought as hard as I could, and I finally flipped over and away from the control of these haggard bitches. I saw one holding her belly. Assuming this is the one who just fucked me, I gave a straight kick into her belly. I saw her pussy abort my cum as she flew into the back wall. Then, the sisters were upon me once again. I punched and kicked and beat and whipped for the better part of an hour, but finally, there was just me, the two staring me intently in the face, Mother Superior, and my sister. "Well," I said, out of breath. "Come on. What are you waiting for?"

The first to charge me was the little Asian. I hoisted her up and brought her down hard across my knee, breaking her back. I threw her to the side. "Okay, bitch. It's just you and I now," I said to the young black woman. She charged me, but then a shot rang out. We looked.

"R-Raymond?" she called. "Raymond, is that you?"

"Sylvia?" It was the guy from the motel, the one with the arm in the sling.

"Grab your sister and get out of here," I told him.

She ran to him, then dug her fingernails into his eyes, blinding him. He wailed like a banshee. She took the shotgun and used the other shell on him. Too bad, but at least I knew she was out of ammo, and that little interaction gave me the moment's respite I needed.

I ran toward her, drop-kicked her, then jumped on her and broke her neck. I looked at this man I didn't even know. I didn't have the time to feel sorry for him, but I did notice what was lying next to his open hand. I stood, faced the old crone, then said, "Alright, bitch. You and I. Let's finish this."

She cackled laughter again, then stood. My sister's mouth remained attached to her pussy. "No, dearie. You must allow Mother Superior to avenge our fallen comrades." My sister stopped her suckling. The crone stepped forward.

My strength was depleted. I was still bleeding from my skirmish with the dog, my nuts still hurt, and my every muscle felt like they were on fire. Still, this was an eighty-something year old woman. What's the worst she could do to me? "Any time, your assholiness."

There was a flicker of light, then I was lying in a heap on the floor even before the pain in my chest began to register. What the fuck? It was her, though. I knew that. She was now standing where I once was. I pulled myself up and said, "Let's ... Let's try that again." Another flash of light, then I was slamming into the wall as my right jaw sent an email to my brain telling it that it had almost been knocked the fuck out. It's that light. Her movement is somehow connected to it. With this knowledge, I spit, laughed, and said, "That the best you got, ya old bitch?" She smiled a kindly, grandmotherly kind of smile, there was a flash of light, then I spun to my left, raised my arm, and drove my right elbow backwards as hard and fast as I could. I caught the bitch in the back of the neck even as she bounded off one of those steel cell doors.

"URRRK!!"

"That's right, bitch," I said as I began wailing on her kidneys. She dropped to one knee, then she backhanded me with such force that I was now where all this began, which is exactly where I wanted to be. I snatched up the shotgun, then grabbed two of the four shells that lay next to ol' Nameless Pete. I loaded them into the shotgun, then stood. Mother superior had stood at that moment. "This is it," I told her. "Any last words?" Her eyes flashed. I raised the shotgun and unloaded both barrels, then all went black.

I don't know how long I was out, but when I awoke my sister had come to Mother Superior and was even now eating her pussy, suckling her clit like she was drawing nourishment from it. Mother Superior lay there, softly stroking Shelly's hair. "Yes, child. Sup at my table. Let Mother Superior take all your woes from you." She was bleeding from the chest. My shot hadn't missed.

I looked around, found the shotgun, loaded the last two shells in it, then crawled to where the two were. "What the fuck are you?" I managed to say. "Alien? Demon?"

"I am beyond your comprehension," she answered. "Your sister knows the truth, though, and one day she will take her rightful place here, within this very cloister."

"Not if I can help it," I said. I stood, brought the barrel of the shotgun down hard, crashing through Mother Superior's teeth, then I pulled the trigger. Her head exploded like a small pumpkin filled with an M-80.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Shelly cried out. "WHY?" She stood and swung the chain at me. That must be what knocked me out earlier. Can't let her do it again. I backed up. She came toward me. I tripped over a body. The shotgun went off, and just as was the case with Mother Superior, my sister's head gave up residence on her shoulders. I was there to protect her, to save her, and I ended up killing her.

"Can I watch Big Bang Theory now, Dr. Conrad?"

"Yes, Michael. Of course, you can." Dr. Conrad turned the DVD player on and pressed play, then he exited Michael's room.

"Still no change, Thomas?"

"Same story, verbatim, every day for the past five years," Dr. Conrad said with a light shrug.

"Such an intriguing fantasy, though," Dr. Emil Tomlinson stated. "Generally speaking, the mind

will find a way to justify the existence of a supernatural entity, yet Michael has never attempted

to do so. There is no answer to his queries of alien or demon, just that he is incapable of comprehending, whatever it may be."

"Regardless, he believes his story strongly enough that it's kept him off death row since the incident," Dr. Conrad said. He looked at his watch. "I have a few more patients to tend to. See you for lunch?"

"Sure thing," Dr. Tomlinson said with a smile.

As Dr. Conrad turned to finish his rounds, his eyes flashed. No, he was not going to kill anyone or even hurt them. At least, not yet.