Attack Of The Nameless One

         It had all come down to this. Frank "The Tank" Franklin (Frankie Frank to his friends) had stalked the beast for days. He waded through hours of pure hell to get there. Fought creatures that had been rigged to explode with magic and fire to get close to the mountain. Faced monsters and super villains that held villages and entire cities beneath their sway to find the path. Battled with a literal army of dead soldiers from wars past and present, with their flesh in various states of decay to claw his way up to just the right spot. It had been hard fought, but there, the war could be won.
The ears and head came first through the mist. The eyes glowed through the fog with an eerie sort of reddish glow. A painted mask covered his face. It was said that if you saw the mask, you died. Frankie lined up his shot. A perfect first shot could just about end this fight before it began. I will be the first to live, he thought as the bald head swayed within his sights. But it was still out of range. The shot here will do nothing. Damn my luck, he thought as he crept from his snipers nest.

         He ducked down and crawled, going as far as he could through the thick fog, staying as low as possible, with his belly scraping the ground.

Francis

         Distant voices called to him. They didn't matter, just a trick of the beast. He held up his weapon. Above the fog he could still see it. The creature almost bounced buoyantly as it raised its own gun. However, its gun wasn't a blessed rifle from the Angel Mardigon, the caretaker of the city the Nameless One tried to ravage. He rested his finger on the trigger. It was closer now. Four hundred yards and already looked massive! It had to be twenty feet tall! Just what did the Nameless One eat? What cities had it destroyed?!
Frank "The Tank" could take it.

Francis

         Frank could always take it. The shot was getting better. Just three hundred fifty yards now. Three hundred. The creature crept closer. The magic number Frank was waiting for was Two hundred seventy-five. If he could just get the creature within that number, but not within Two hundred fifty, then it was going to be a sinch for Frank to simply...

Francis Marylin Vulpin!

         The young vixen popped her head up, pulling the VR helmet off. Her ears folded down in annoyance and anger. "Mom," She shouted back, lifting up off the ground. She tapped the hidden button in the pinky finger in her glove to pause the game with practiced ease. "You could have cost me the whole game," Francis snarled, her tail twitching.
The older vixen crossed her arms over her pink blouse. "I don't care. You were told to clean up your room and do your laundry over an hour ago! And what do I find? You crawling around in it! Get your fuzzy butt up those stairs with that laundry basket now, Miss. Get it in the wash, and you better separate those clothes."
Francis stomped twice, her tail twitching like mad. "But I have to kill the Nameless One! The fate of the entire world rests on it!"

         "The fate of your weekend rests on your clean room, Miss; so, unless you want to never see the Faceless One,"

         "Nameless One!"

         "Whatever One," the mother snapped, her own tail twitching in annoyance now. "Unless you want me to take your helmet, again, you will clean this room now!"

         Francis grumbled and growled as her mother left. Ears were splayed out on either side as she looked down at the VR helmet. "Later Nameless One," she snarled hanging the helmet up on its display and charging cradle near her wreck of a desk. It tottered once but stayed upright. She had to get this room cleaned first before she could save the world. Parents just have no priorities, she thought as she began to pick up the dirty clothing she was just crawling over.