Disclaimer: I do not own the comic that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Disclaimer: Evil Ernie and all related characters don’t belong to me. I am just using them in my own perverted way. They belong to the late Chaos! Comics. Steven Hughes God rest his soul, and hopefully he isn’t rolling in his grave Styi is Me © Spug and Allan is © KT
Warning: Language, Violence, and Slash content. This chapter is rated R. Please Read and Review


~ For Love of Death ~
CHAPTER TWO
*The Simplicity of Revenge*

Evangeline!
Compared to mine.
What is your crummy Evangeline?
-Bad Religion “Evangeline”


He had stared into the mirror for hours. Himself, but then again, not. There was something wrong with Styi. He was dead. But still moving. Imagine that? Fucking waked shit. The pupils had faded from his eyes. The right was a sun yellow, the other, where the scar slashed half his face before dipping down his neck, was white. He figured the yellow eye could give him some kind of power.

It would have been fitting. Ole “Evil Eye” He could call himself. Like some kind of fucked up horror movie. Unfortunately. The eye wasn’t powerful It was just yellow. His flesh had changed color too, gone from tan to gray. A cryptic color. Fitting.. since he was dead and all. Not too much else had changed. The tips of his fingers were hardening into claws, and there was that fucking scar.. but other then that...

The big guy stood and slammed his fist into the mirror. It shattered into a million sparkling pieces. His hand going completely through the backboard, sharp pieces ripping his large hand to shreds. But that was the weird part, the second he pulled his hand back out, flesh hanging and blood dripping, a green light erupted from the gushing veins and healed it up in a matter of seconds.

That was the fourth mirror he’d punched since he’d gotten back up.

“Well, this is the shit.” He grinned. Couldn’t figure it out. Wasn’t he suppose to be a mindless toadie, trailing after that little bitch boy? Mindlessly killing for what ever fucked up reason Ernest Fairchild had for wanting to kill everyone on earth? When Styi had been risen, he’d felt the Evil One’s telepathic call swirling around his undead mind. But he had ignored it like a insignificant piece of ass.

Heh. He really found that funny.

He’d changed clothes. That little bastard had ripped the shit out of his other outfit when he’d split him open like that. And all the blood. Styi liked blood, but not wearing it for too long. Now it was a ripped up red shirt with the slogan “Fuck You” his old green pants, and those boots.

Which were currently pounding against the ground as he took off running out the door. He had plans. You see, he’d come to conclude a few things.

One: He was immune to the Ernie’s call to arms. That meant he didn’t have to worry about that little shit ordering him around.

Two: For some reason, when he’d dipped his hands into the Evil One’s stomach, he’d gotten the green light shit that did all the healing. Styi liked this concept. Meant he could take an ass whooping and get back up kicking. This was a bonus.

Three: Now that he was dead, it was no longer Necrophilia. Heh.
Oh. He was going to get back at Ernest Fairchild in the best way he knew how. No little Bitch boy messed with Styi Copelli and lived to tell about it. But for Ernie’s sake. He was already dead. Styi was just about to make that little zombie pay for what he did. He planned to catch up with the destroyer, royally kick his undead ass, fuck him, kick ass ass again, then another nice long ass rape. and then make himself the master of the undead.

Now wasn’t that a plan? Heh.

Styi smirked as he picked up speed. Without the need to breathe, he didn’t get tired. He was eight hours behind the evil one. But with the way the dead crawled along, he figured it wouldn’t take that long to catch up with them.

This big undead motherfucker was about to go ‘th ‘thank’ Evil Ernie Fairchild for the gift of the undead.

He was really going to Fuck him up.

As his hometown disappeared behind him. Styi came to a conclusion.

Being dead was the shit!


~ * ~


“Dead Onez Rise.”

The telepathic glow of the green energy Arcane swirled around Ernie’s forehead. Another town gone, Another thousand undead to join his growing army. MegaDeath was still just a vacant dream, but with each new zombie, it was a little closer.

Worn leather boots tromped through blood and trash. Stepping around this now dead town. He was doing a double take. Hands shoved deep into the pockets of tight denim. Making sure there were no more living. He could not risk to leave someone alive.

“ Hey, Boss, You don’t have to be this anal! I’m sure the dead onez got em all!” Smiley wiggled upon that leather lapel. Huffing. The button was cranky. He wanted to get moving. Thick brows over those beady little eyes were pulled down.

“ Quit yer bitchin', Button. Gotta check, gotta make sure ev’body is dead.” Ernie scolded. Those white soulless eyes peered down at his only friend. Smiley just wiggled.

A thin gray hand pushed on the door to a bar. It creaked. He stepped inward boots squeaking on the wood. Looking around, it was empty. No dead onez in here. Not even any bloodstains or signs of struggles. Perhaps it had been empty when he’d sent the dead swarming through.

“ It’s empty.. common on lets go.” The button was whining again.

“Shudup..” Hissed Ernie. His white eyes landing on the door that led to the kitchen. He’d heard a noise. Slowly those boots treaded the distance to and around to the bar. A hand tipped with deadly claws reached out to push open the swinging door.

“Yeeeeaggghhhhhhhhhhh!”

Ernie was actually surprised when the door swung outward at him, and a war cry was sounded. The little zombie jumped back as a young man, a living one, leaped out from the kitchen, a cast iron skillet in both hands, which he used to smash Ernie right in the forehead.

Well that hurt. Especially when one wasn’t expecting it. Ernie toppled backwards, landing on his ass in the middle of the tavern floor. Legs sprawled out in front of him. The living one gave out another cry and went to smack the undead youth again.

“ Dat pan hurts lotz.” Ernie muttered as he gripped his head.

The living one stopped dead in his tracks. Pan raised over his head. “ You..” He’s voice was moderate, the borders of being soft. “You can talk?”

By all accounts Ernie should have never even said anything. Just stood up and slashed the living shit out of this living one. But no living one had ever gotten the drop rniernie out of the blue like that. Without him even knowing he was there. The Zombie uncovered his head an latched hues to the young man still posed with a frying pan over his head.

Medium build. A bit taller then he was. Short croppy red hair. Green eyes. A bloodstained white t-shirt clung to his lean torso. Low cut jeans. He had a swimmer stance. Fair skin. Very handsome. For a living one anyway. Ernie squared an eye. It looked like he’d been fighting off his dead ones for quite a while.

“ Yes..” Ernie said as he stood up. “I’s can talk. Nuthin’ Speac’l. Why’s you not dead yet?”

The young man took a step back. “ You’re Evil Ernie aren’t you?”

“ Yup.”

“ I figured.” The young man actually smiled at the Zombie. “ I like your work.. I’m just not sure I’m ready to die yet. I’m sure you don’t understand that, but could I at least have a reason why you’re doing this before you kill me?” He lowered the frying pan, holding it in one hand and he used the other to run through his short red hair.

“Fuck this boss, just wak him, he’s not worth a explanation.” The button sneered. He did not like this living one. He couldn’t understand why Ernie hadn’t killed him yet.

“Hey! That’s cute. Your button talks.” The young man set the frying pan down on the ground and stood straight, folding his arms over his lean torso as both Ernie and Smiley spontaneous let out a “eh?”

“ Hey! Faggot. Don’t call me cute.” The button growled.

The red head narrowed his eyes at that then turned his gaze to the Destroyer. “ I think you should do what ever wan want.”

“ BOSS!?! Fucki..”

“Shudup, Button.” Ernie interrupted his little friend with a stern stare downward. “ Lemme do dah talking.” Ernie was confused. This living one didn’t seem to be afraid of him. He’d never had one talk to him either. No one really ever had. He took a step forward. “Why’s you not afraid?”

The young man blinked and then shrugged his lean shoulders. “ Don’t know. Not really afraid of death. I know that once you kill me, I’ll just join your undead army. I just want to know what I’m fighting for, that’s all.” He took a step forward as well. Coming within a couple feet of the Evil One. “ I’m Allan.” He said with a smile. Sticking out a hand.

Ernie blinked. Smiley let out another sting of ‘faggot’ comments. Those white soulless hues locked onto the hand that was outstretched for him. The hell? What was with this guy? Ernie would be killing him in a matter of minutes. Kill him, and raise him as a mindless drone to do his dirty work. And this...Allan was trying to be friends with him? A brow was raised. He didn’t know what to do.

“ Why you doin’ that?” The Destroyers mouth parted slightly. He ever cocked his head in an innocent manner.

“ What do you mean?” Allan looked at his own hand, pulling it back, the present it again. “ It’s a handshake, Ernie. You Know. ‘Nice to meet you and all’?” The young man smiled again. Very friendly.

“ Fuck him. Kill the faggot and lets get going.” The button snarled.

Ernie blinked again. Ignoring Smiley. He should have killed the other boy. Right then and there. Grabbed that hand and ripped that lean arm from it’s socket. But he didn’t.

Slowly, very slowly. Ernie stuck his own hand out and curled those dangerous slender clawed fingers into the hand of the Living one. Cold flesh met warm, and Allan shook his hand softy.

“Nice to met you Ernie, you are cute.” Allan grinned while shaking. “ Now will you tell me why you want to kill everybody in the world?”

This living one was sure strange. As his hand was released, Ernie pulled it back and held it against his chest. It was warm briefly before fading to coldness again. Those white eyes locked to the young man’s emeralds. Should he? Really, should he tell?

“ For Love.”

“ Love?” Allan blinked and put a hand on his chin.

“Yes.”

“ Ohhh boy. This is going to be a story, how about some Tea?”

Ernie blinked. This living one was sure a weird one.

“Uhh.... sure. w’not.”


~ * ~


Two hours later and six cups of tea between them, Ernie’s new ‘friend’ sat with his arms behind his head across a small beat up table and smiled at the Destroyer.

“ So you haven’t seen her since. Damn. I’m sorry. That must really be tough.”

Ernie sighed a bit. A clawed finger trailing the lip of a teacup. This Living one, this Allan. He made some good tea. Smiley had bitched for about the first hour, but now the little button was asleep on the leather lapel. Leaving the living one, and the dead one to their discussion.

“ No. Dat’s why I gotta kill ev’body. Or I dun see her ev’r again.” Ernie’s head was slightly bowed. Strands of his long curly black hair dangling all over his face. Observing his glowing white vintage. The Living one kept staring at him.

“Well, I’m sorry, Ernie, really sorry. But is it worth it? Are you sure once you do kill everyone on earth, that she will be there?” Allan asked, as he leaned forward. He put his hands on the table and locked his gaze to the Zombie’s again. “ Every thought that you could find love somewhere else? Just in case? From what you’ve told me, I’d really just say she’s using you.”

“ No..” Ernie muttered. Head scrunched into his shoulders. “ Lady Death Love’s me. She saida so. I’sa trust’s her.” He should have gotten made. Should have ripped the living one’s head off. But he just sighed and sipped his tea. “ No one else would ev’r love me anyway.”

“ Oh that’s not true.” The living one said. Shaking his head. Short locks of red waved slightly. “ There’s always time for love. I’m sure you could find someone else.” He actually dared to reach out a hand and pat the undead destroyer’s own cold item. “ Like I said. You may be dead. But you’re cute.”

Again the strange stare from Ernie. A white eye scrunching slightly. He was innocent. He’d never had a loving experience in his life. Just the Lady of Death promised him. “ You’s a strange Living one, Why’s you keep saying that?”

“Cause it’s true. Hey!” Allan smiled. “ I like you Ernie. I’ll be glad to be part of your undead army if it’s a mission for love.” Another pat and the living boy drew back. “ Tho I still think you are looking for love in all the wrong places. “ A wink of one of those Emerald eyes.

“ A really strange Living One.” Ernie shook his head. Stands of black splaying out. Slowly he stood out of his chair and stretched his cold body. A slow smile broke out of his face. “ But you’s about to become a dead one. Ready to join Ernie’s Army now, Livin’ One, Allan?”

Allan stood as well, the smile slowly fading from his face. He took a deep breath. “ I’m not going to run from you.” There was almost a noticeable shiver in his lean form. “ I wish you’d have given more thought to what I said, but yes, I’m ready. Go Ahead.” The boy stood proud, and closed his eyes.

Ernie paused a second. Again, the living one confused him. So unafraid to die. So willing to die. So..not afraid of him. Ernie blinked, bite his cold bottom lip, and then raised his hand, spreading claws, and prepared to lash out.

One swipe. He’d make it quick and painless for Allan.

One... Two...

*BOOOOM!*

The door to the bar blew open as a heavy boot slammed into it. The wooden item went flying and crashed into the table the due had made teatime at for over two hours.

“THE FUCK?!?” Yelled Smiley, jarring from his sleep.

Aya opened his eyes, and Ernie whipped around, forgetting about the kill as a large form took up the doorway.

A tall, large, lean grinning form. As the dust for the door kicking settled, two eyes beamed out from the doorway, the figure illuminated with the dying sunlight that streamed through it. Twin eyes, multi colored. One yellow. One white.

As the big guy stepped into the tavern, Both Allan and Ernie took a step back. The glare for the light faded.

“Hey there, bitch boy? Remember me?”

Ernie’s mouth parted as the form came completely into view. Another Dead One. One with a Scar that ran from his temple to his crotch. A Dead One that had been a Living One a few hours ago, who’d he had trouble killing.

“You!” Ernie gasped in a half snarl squeak.

“Faggot!” Growled Smiley.

“Who ..are you?” Questioned the confused Allan.

The big guy grinned with an evil intent. In both hands he beheld a Chain and Sickle, one he immediately began to whirl over his white haired head.

“ My name’s Styi.” He said as he let out a devious chuckled. “Beware little bitch boys.. cause..”

A step forward. The Chain and Sickle became a bur.

“ And I’m about to FUCK..”

A double boot stomp.

“ ...You Up!”