Ash Williams was never one to shy away from a fight, but even he had limits. After decades of battling Deadites, demons, and evil itself, he thought he had seen it all. Armed with his trusty chainsaw hand and double-barrel shotgun—affectionately known as his “Boomstick”—he was the lone warrior against the forces of darkness. But as he would soon discover, some evils don’t stay buried, and some nightmares are too big for even Ash to handle alone.
The Cabin in the Woods
It all started, as it always did, with that damn cabin. Deep in the dense woods of Michigan, a new group of thrill-seeking college kids had found the infamous cabin where Ash’s battle first began. The ruins of the cabin, now overgrown with vines and decaying wood, whispered of the horrors that had taken place within. The kids, ignorant of the past, found the remnants of the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis—the cursed book that Ash had fought so hard to destroy years ago.
As the sun set, they flipped through the ancient pages, laughing as they tried to pronounce the twisted incantations. The air grew cold, and the shadows lengthened. The wind howled through the trees, and unseen eyes watched from the darkness. The words echoed, the ancient spell unleashed once again, summoning evil from beyond the veil.
The ground beneath the cabin trembled, and the woods themselves seemed to come alive, as the trees creaked and groaned like angry spirits. The kids screamed, but it was already too late. One by one, they were possessed, their bodies twisted into grotesque, grinning Deadites.
Miles away, Ash was living his so-called “retirement.” With his chainsaw and Boomstick mounted above the bar of his small hardware store, he had managed to convince himself that his fighting days were behind him. But when the Necronomicon stirred, so did the nightmares. Ash awoke with a jolt, sweat dripping down his face as the all-too-familiar voices whispered his name.
“Time to get back in the saddle,” he muttered, pulling the chainsaw down from the wall and revving it up with a smirk. “Groovy.”
Return to Hell
The drive back to the cabin was filled with dread and anticipation. Ash’s hands gripped the wheel tightly as memories of the bloodshed and horror flashed in his mind. But he knew there was no choice—if the Deadites were back, the only one who could stop them was him.
As he pulled up to the clearing, the moon shone down on the twisted remnants of the cabin. The air was thick with the smell of decay, and faint cries echoed through the trees. Ash kicked the door open and stepped into the darkness, his Boomstick loaded and ready.
He heard the laughter first—a cackling sound that seemed to come from every direction. Shadows danced along the tree line, and eyes glowed in the dark. “Come get some!” he shouted, raising his shotgun as the first Deadite lunged at him from the shadows.
Ash’s instincts kicked in, and he fired. The blast echoed, and the Deadite’s head exploded in a spray of black ichor. More emerged from the darkness, their faces twisted into monstrous grins. Ash charged forward, his chainsaw roaring as he sliced through the Deadites with brutal efficiency.
“Same old ugly mugs,” he taunted, kicking one back as another lunged at him. But even as he fought, he felt the overwhelming presence of something darker, something more powerful than he’d ever faced. This wasn’t just another batch of Deadites; this was something worse.
The Ancient Evil
Inside the cabin, Ash found the book—the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis—open and pulsating with an unholy energy. The pages flipped on their own, and the demonic script seemed to crawl off the paper, reaching out like tendrils of darkness.
As he reached for the book, he felt a blast of cold wind, and a voice boomed from every corner of the cabin. “Ashley Williams, the chosen one, the destroyer of the unholy. You think you can win, but the darkness is eternal.”
The shadows in the room swirled, forming a figure that was all too familiar—a mirror image of himself. Evil Ash, grinning like a maniac, wielding a rusty, blood-stained chainsaw. “Guess who’s back, baby!” he sneered, charging at Ash.
The two clashed, chainsaws sparking as they collided. Ash swung his Boomstick, knocking Evil Ash back, but the doppelganger was relentless. The battle was brutal, with Ash taking several hits and cuts as they tore through the cabin, smashing through walls and splintered wood.
But Ash wasn’t about to let an evil twin get the better of him again. With a roar, he grabbed Evil Ash and slammed him onto the cabin’s sacrificial altar. The Necronomicon reacted, its pages flaring with fiery light as Ash forced the head of his doppelganger into the book. “Time for you to go back where you belong,” he snarled.
Evil Ash screamed as the book’s magic pulled him in, his body twisted and contorted until he was swallowed by the darkness. The cabin shook, and the trees outside moaned as the evil presence receded. For a moment, it seemed like Ash had won.
The Final Battle
Just as Ash caught his breath, the ground split open, and a massive clawed hand emerged, followed by another. An ancient demon—one that had been sealed beneath the cabin for centuries—rose, its face a grotesque amalgamation of skulls and rotting flesh. The very earth trembled as it stood before Ash, towering over him.
“Of course, it’s gotta be a giant demon,” Ash muttered, reloading his Boomstick. “It’s never easy, is it?”
The battle was chaos. The demon roared, spewing fire and ash as it swiped at Ash, who dodged and fired, aiming for its eyes. The shotgun blasts slowed it down, but the demon was relentless, clawing at him and nearly tearing his chainsaw arm off.
Desperate, Ash spotted the Necronomicon, now lying amidst the rubble. He knew what he had to do. Leaping over the demon’s clawed hand, he grabbed the book and held it high, reciting the words he had committed to memory long ago.
As he chanted, the demon screamed, its body burning with blue flames as it was pulled back into the ground. The wind howled, and the earth trembled as the portal to Hell closed, dragging the demon back into its infernal prison.
Ash stood victorious, battered but unbowed. The night was silent again, the evil banished—at least, for now.
Always a Hero
Ash walked out of the cabin, the ruins still smoking behind him. He looked up at the sky, the first rays of dawn breaking through the darkness. “Another day, another Deadite,” he said with a tired smile, lighting up a cigar.
But he knew, deep down, that the fight would never truly end. Evil was always lurking, waiting for a chance to rise again. And as long as it did, he’d be there—chainsaw in one hand, Boomstick in the other.
Because that’s just what Ash Williams does.
“Groovy.”
