Welcome back to another exciting episode and conclusion, and yadda yadda, of the Writing (r)Evolution of The Diary of The Wasteland Bear God.
It’s the end of the Crimson Tyrant Arc and well, a suitable place to stop with the “viva la revolucion” of writing. This was originally where I was going to stop the first season, but then I did a wee bit more. I may still revisit the other chapters (entries, etc) but if I do they will be later on.
I am going to be tending to other projects and other life matters that will be taking up more of my time. It’s for the greater good. (The greater good.)
There’s not much to say. It’s the end. I decided to make it more likable for Ben. Since the story is about Sin overall. Thus, it’s a happy ending. Not in the Nuru massage kind of way…
There ends up being some DC references, Star Wars, and, of course, Diablo…with some Devil May Cry. I really enjoyed doing this series and I will see to it hat it ends well.
Anyway, look to the future for the new projects and their completion.
Until next time,
The Diary of the Wasteland Bear God
Season One: Episode Thirty-One
[Don’t Stop. . .Believing]
Last time on The Diary of the Wasteland Bear God! Ben showed off his newly acquired battle prowess and knocked the ever-loving shit out of Albrecht, The Crimson Tyrant. After using his wannabe Pokemon-but-it’s-not-Pokemon attack, Albrecht was sent crashing into several buildings, leading the trio to believe the fight was over. However, Albrecht is now super massive, hulking, and towering over them. . .and the building in which they stand upon. Find out what happens today, on —
“You tarry on for far too long, Maker! Shut your mouth and let the fools do battle with me!” Wesker bellowed.
“Fine,” the Maker replied, “but you’re going to get your ass handed to you, and Ben will make good on his promise.”
The Crimson Tyrant laughed hysterically. “How could a pitiful, small, weak sack of flesh hope to defeat me? I am unstoppable!”
“Well, considering I already know the outcome. . .I think I’d know. . .and I am a betting man. But fuck it, what do I know?” The Maker then could be heard wandering off mumbling about incompetence and other shenanigans.
“Bear witness to my power, mortals!” Wesker bellowed once again.
The sky turned into a kaleidoscope of red, black, and yellow. Lightning shot in various directions, while the thunder rolled ferociously throughout the heavens. The sun was soon blotted out completely by the hulking crimson humongoid.
“If all you can do is play with the weather and get big. . .well. . .that’s not quite a feat,” The Bear God remarked smugly.
“Yes, yes, keep your facade of an act up, Bear God. You will meet your end the same way all the others have before. The era of The Bear God is at an end. This—this is the beginning of a new era—The Crimson Tyrant!” Wesker laughed manically as his hands reached towards the heavens.
The ground shook violently beneath the trio. Buildings crumbled, while the ground split open spewing the oppressed air of the old days that had been trapped underneath. Rubricon took note of this smell. . .
“What the hell died down there?”
“Oh, did you not know? This is a mass grave. . .several million poor saps that poured their efforts and wasted money in protecting their pathetic lives in those ‘vaults’ you believed would save your lives. Ah, how silly mankind is. Killing one another for a purse, a car, a hot dog. . .squabbling over spilled milk, blowing up one another over religious and political views. You are no better than a pack of wild dogs. However, that pack of wild dogs at least has some order. Ah, but I digress. Allow me to introduce you to the populous in which you stand upon!”
Wesker focused his energy on reviving the long-rotting dead. Groups of skeletons, corpses, and the dismembered rose from their horrible grave and climbed to the desolate city streets.
“Oh hey, a Zombie Apocalypse. Great. What I always wanted!” The Bear God smiled ear to ear.
“Yes, yes, smile all you want. . .for they will be your undoing! They will tear you to pieces and feast on your flesh. Then, after they are done with you and your friends, they will consume this wasteland and I will then raise everyone to do my bidding!” Wesker laughed maniacally as he finished telling his tale for world domination.
Before and all around them were millions of corpses. The odds were definitely not in their favor but they all knew how to deal with the undead.
“Go for the head! If you think you’ve killed one, make sure to go for the head again. Double tap for the win!” Sin bellowed as he began his onslaught.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, ” Rubricon sighed.
Ben smiled to himself. He had millions to kill and this. . .this pleased him.
After some time of purging the undead and dwindling the numbers significantly, the trio began to show signs of fatigue. Wesker also had a surprise for them. . .
“Whew! You’d think that will all the shit we’ve unloaded on them there would be less by now,” Sin remarked.
“What’s the matter? Getting tired?” Wesker inquired. “I am just getting started!”
All the undead that were killed off began to reanimate, leaving the Bear God to curse in a long, long, long curse.
“Ah ah, my furry fellow. A strategy is the most important concept in overcoming your opponent. You should have figured this out some time ago.” The Crimson Tyrant wagged his right index finger.
“You are really, really starting to piss me off!” Sin yelled.
Again the trio began their slaughter of the undead. This time though they made sure to use more. . .efficient methods of destroying the zombies—
“We’re not using the z-ed word!”
. . .
They made sure to use more efficient methods in eradicating the walking dead. . .by vaporizing them with their energy attacks, massive bombings, and other fun ways of dispatching things that I am going to not go into detail about because The Bear God ruined my moment of using ZOMBIES one fucking time.
“Go cry about it somewhere else! We’re a little busy here! Unlike you, you asshat!” The Bear God yelled.
“OK, you know what? How about I take away your plot armor? Let this cuntwaffle win and just say screw it? Huh?” The Maker yelled back.
“I’m fine with that,” Wesker replied.
“You shut your whore mouth!” The Maker quipped back.
Wesker’s gaze fell sadly to the ground.
“Sin, maybe you should apologize. We still aren’t even through the first season and there’s a lot of shit that we need to get done,” Rubricon added.
Sin sighed, “Fine.” He looked up towards the dark sky. ‘I am sorry.” He then spat on the ground.
There was a moment of silence. . .well, enough between the grunts, groans and killing of the undead. “Good enough. Go get ’em tiger.” The Maker replied.
The Crimson Tyrant then began a long-winded speech. “You insignificant wretched maggots! I will grind you into dust! I will put you in places you have never even thought possible! I will do things to your bodies that you thought only happened in prison movies. . .and prison! Your asses will be mine! Your souls will be mine!”
“Nope!” Ben dashed through the air and headed square for the red hulk.
One after the other, Ben assaulted the red beast with different variant water strikes: beams, geysers, jets, deluge, ice, bubbles, etc.
The Crimson Tyrant looked stunned and staggered. Ben readied for a surprise for Wesker. He hovered before the red beast and stretched his arms out far to his sides. Every inch of Albrecht’s body became encased in the massive bubble that formed around him.
“What is this? WHAT IS THIS!?” Wesker bellowed in disbelief.
Ben spoke calm and collective. “Remember when I said I would tear out your soul?”
Wesker began levitating in the air. Soon enough, he was high above the trio. His body began to convulse. Bones cracked, limbs moved in ways that were unnatural. And then. . .it happened. A green translucent image of the Crimson Tyrant was separated from his body—his soul. The lifeless body came crashing to the ground, swallowed wholly by the massive crevasse.
Ben then drew the soul to his mouth where he began to floss with it. An astounding sight really. Despite the new Ghoulish-Mirelurk Ben, his teeth were already quite clean. But it was a point he was making. He then swallowed Albrecht’s soul wholly. His eyes flickered a crimson haze, and he let loose a maniacal laugh. . .and then it subsided.
All the undead dropped back to their lifeless selves and were then swallowed up by the ground. The weather went back to normal, with the sun shining brilliantly. Everything went back to ‘normal.’
Rubricon and Sin clapped at the display of awesomeness that Ben had done.
“Great job, Ben! Well done.”
The building started to shake and rumble. It was starting to collapse.
“That’s cool and all, but since this place is going down, we need to get the shit we came for and leave. Now!” Rubricon stated.
The trio began to scan for the item that would be able to revert Rubricon to his human form. After a brief search, they found it and set out to drag the “egg people” out. Behind them, the building collapsed and dust billowed. One by one, the egg sacks were broken and those that were still alive were reunited with their appropriate faction. Cheers from the diverse coalition of factions were heard for miles.
A Brotherhood of Aluminum soldier spoke to the trio. “We saw the whole thing. We are truly in awe of your battle prowess and dedication to bettering the Wasteland. I believe I speak for everyone here when I say. . .thank you. Thank you, Bear God. Keep anything you came across. We’ve all grown in this time spent here. We’ve all come to share the same commonality. . .and we all seek the same goal; peace. We will venture the Wasteland and preach on your behalf, and hope that the warring factions can see the futility that is presently staked. . .rooted in our common cores, and that it will be replenished with the ideals of rebuilding this land for us all.”
The trio all looked at one another. “Uh. . .OK,” said Sin.
The group began to disband, with some shaking hands and giving one another pats on the back. As they all left and were a fair distance from the trip the most random thing happened. . .
A series of explosions erupted from all the different groups. They were all dead.
“Well then. . .that didn’t last long,” The Bear God remarked.
Rubricon examined the DNA modifier. “Guess it’s time to bring sexy back.”
“Quiet, freak! I was a glorious model worthy man. . .” Rubricon added.
“It’s true. He was a boss,” Sin also added.
After applying the modifier, Rubricon stood unchanged. “Did it work?”
“Maybe you need to do a little dance?” Sin questioned.
“I dunno. . .I—I. . .oh! It’s coming!” Rubricon started to convulse and grunted in pain.
“Are you taking a shit or. . .” Ben remarked.
After a few moments and a flash of blinding light, there emerged a newly formed Rubricon.
He had fair skin, his bright blue eyes sparkled under the sun. His hair was medium length—silver—and tied back tightly. He still wore his brown leather duster and black leather outfit, etc.
“I am. . .renewed!” He cried happily.
“Not quite. . .” Sin held up a mirror.
“What the—no, no!” Rubricon stammered.
He saw it. He didn’t believe it but he saw it. In the reflection was a pair of ears that stood partially erect. “Mother fu—!”