Prologue


There is believed, to be a book called the Necronomican Ex Mortis, which was written many years before the time we know now. When the seas ran with blood, and darkness lay across the world. A man, took pen to paper, and in blood wrote the Necronomican. He bound the book in flesh...and it was lost. The book, was found in a remote cabin by a man, named Ashley Williams, in the year 1993 A.D. Ashley, self-proclaimed Ash, battled the darkness that the book allowed to enter the realm of man. Victorious in his ambition to survive against the evil, he was, unfortunatly returned to the middle ages, to battle them again. Defending an English castle from undead, he returned to his own time, by sleeping for 600 years. He hoped, his life would be back to normal, but after he failed to correctly repeat the incantation which would bind the demons to the 1300's he must now battle them, again in his own time.

Chapter 1
Ash drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his '78 oldsmobile as he drove down the dirt road. He smiled to the woman sitting next to him, beautiful, with fiery red hair, she returned his smile with her own. Ash, was on vacation, prefering serenity over blistering and overcrowded beaches, this led him to the country. Some random rock and roll song blared on the radio, but Ash wasn't listening. He admired the trees, and the clear sky of the beautiful day. 'Scott always said I was an outdoor junkie..' Ash thought with a grim sigh. As if with some sort of intuition, the woman sitting next to Ash glanced to him and said.

"What's wrong Ash...?" she looked concerned.

"Oh? Nothing...nothing..." he said, still seeming to be lost in terrible memories.

He looked to his gauntlet resting on the steering wheel. His mind went back to that scene...his own rotting hand dragging him across the floor of the cabin. Just as the hand was in reach of the knife, Ash is seen slamming his own knife into the hand, his hand, pinning it to the floor. Grabbing a chainsaw, he pulled the cord to start it with his teeth. This, was the beggining of his temporary insanity. He remembered bellowing, "Who's laughing now?!" over and over again, as the saw sliced through flesh, sinew and bone, spraying blood, his blood all over his face. His mind returned to the real world when he heard the woman sitting next to him, his spouse Jenny Thomasson, screaming for him to watch out. He gasped, and pulled out of the way of a man, who looked to be the stereotypical farmer (plaid, straw hat, overrals etc.) shambling in the middle of the dirt road. His back was turned to them, and Ash opened the door and shook his fist at the farmer.

"Watch where you're walkin' asshole!" he yelled angrily.

He sat back in the driver's seat. The sun was setting, and Ash sighed as he tried to start his car, to no avail. He beat his fists on the steering wheel, and grumbled a colorful curse under his breath. He scratched his head, and looked to the Gas Meter, almost full.

"Well...it's not out of gas." he said arching an eyebrow.

He tried starting it again, and threw his hands into the air. Muttering, he got out of the car, and looked at the sky. He then moved toward the car again, and got in, removing the keys.

"C'mon Jenny, it's only a couple of miles. We'll walk." he said looking at her.

She noticed his irritated manner, and nodded slightly, stepping out of the car. Ash jerked a lever near the floor of the car, and heard the trunk pop open. He got out, slamming the door, and walking to the back, he rummaged in the back, and pulled out one suitcase for himself, and three for Jenny. He muttered about "women and their luggage." and started walking up the road, Jenny behind him. Ahead, the farmer still shambled up the road. 'Must've gotten into the moonshine cabinet.' Ash thought, with a smirk. As they approached the man, he turned around looking straight at them. Jenny screamed, and Ash dropped the luggage, instinctually reaching over onto where the holster on his back used to be, but remembered he carried no 'boomstick' there anymore. The farmer's flesh was gray, and peeling, his eyes were gone, and his mouth was ringed with dried blood.

"Join...us..." it hissed.

The creature was less than a yard away from Ash, and he clawed toward him. Ash backed away, in fear and disgust. It had been what? Eleven years since he battled the deadites, he wasn't a strong optomistic twenty-three year old anymore. The recording of Proffesor Knowby's voice came to mind, 'The only way to destroy the evil is....bodily dis-membermant.' Ash backed away again, not knowing of anything he had that could dismember a deadite. He remembered his toolbox in the trunk of his car, he had carried it around oftenly, as he was a Pharmacist, and preferred, out of stubborness to do all the renovations of his home on his own. He looked down at the toolbox, it was about four years old, his father had given it to him as a present. He opened it, and looked at the various tools. He grinned, almost maniacly when his eyes wondered to the monkey wrench, and the paint scraper. He lifted these two tools, and ran for the deadite, now closing on Jenny, who was frozen with fear.

"Say ahhhhhhh!" Ash said to the deadite.

The deadite cocked its head, almost dog-like at Ash, and opened its mouth to speak. Ash stuck the paintscraper between the deadite's jaws, forcing them to stay open. He lifted the wrench, and hit the scraper, causing the deadite's teeth to impact, cracking them. The deadite roared, and Ash struck out with the wrench, knocking its head off. The deadite farmer, back handed Ash in the face, sending him flying into his car's wind shield. He grimaced as blood stained his new brown shirt, and poured down onto his kaki jeans. He muttered a curse, and as he tried to lift himself up, the deadite pounced on him, broken teeth gnashing for his neck. Ash struggled to keep his hold on the deadite's neck. He shoved the wrench into the deadite's stomach, and almost vomited as he felt warm bile spill all over his shirt. He struggled, and kicked feebly at the deadite, and eventually rolled out from under it, onto the ground.

"Owww...my ass..." he muttered.

The deadite charged again, but Ash was ready. Ash stepped to the side, and tripped the deadite. He then ran up to the now prone creature, and slammed his booted foot onto its back. He crouched on top of it, barely able to hold it down.

"Yaahhhh!" he bellowed as he ripped one of its legs off.

The deadite bucked him off. 'Only two arms and a leg left...' he thought