Ironface REDUX Pt. 3: The Iron Nightmare Goes to Mars

If you’ve made it this far, I shouldn’t need to write another introduction. But still, obligatory links are obligatory:

If you like any or all of the Ironface goodness you’ve seen so far, you should be throwing subs at their faces! Or other body parts! Whatever floats your boat.

And no, there won’t be any other Ironface stories. Not from me, anyway. But who knows what the future will bring, especially with regard to some of the other characters in this fictional universe?

Ironface woke up in pure blackness. The last thing he remembered was the pink & gold MOAB bomb falling on top of him and exploding in front of his face. The force of the explosion knocked him out and buried him deep underground. When he woke up, he punched his way out of the dirt and back into the land of the living.  

A steel-tipped nylon whip was coiled tightly in his meaty fist. The whip belonged to the love of his life, the Glitch Bitch. Ironface looked around, but Glitch Bitch was nowhere to be found. Ironface had been holding their unconscious body in his arms when the bomb exploded on top of them. He pawed at the soft earth which he had just emerged from, but no amount of digging showed any sign of the Glitch Bitch. He had no choice but to accept the fact that s/he had died in the explosion. 

This made Ironface very sad. He clenched the whip tightly, his balled-up fists shaking with rage. He ripped the razor-sharp tip of the whip off of one end. Then he ripped the soft nylon body of the whip out of the top of the handle. Finally, he shoved the steel tip into the handle, creating a makeshift butcherknife.

It had been a very long time since Ironface had held a blade in his hand. It felt familiar and comforting. But it was missing one thing: the blood of the innocent. Ironface knew exactly how to fix this problem, though. He would make his way to NASA, steal a rocket ship, and track down the murdering pimps who had stolen his love from him. And he would brutally murder anyone who got in his way. 

When he finally got to NASA headquarters, his first stop was the chinese food restaurant just down the street. Ironface ripped the back door out of its frame and stormed into the kitchen where the line cook, Jackie J., was chopping vegetables with a giant butcher knife of her own. The knife looked shiny and sharp, and Ironface wanted it. But Jackie refused to give it up.

“Hey, this is a private kitchen, you’re not allowed to be in here?” Jackie screamed at the masked murderer. Instead of listening to her, Ironface grabbed one of the giant carrots she was chopping and shoved it into her left eye socket. The pointy end sliced through the back of her skull. She was still alive and flailing, though, so Ironface took the other carrot and shoved it through her other eye. Then he punched her in the face, and her skull exploded into bloody chunks of brain, bone, and carrot. It was all over the walls and the ceiling and the countertops. The cleaning crew wept openly when they finally saw the mess. 

He grabbed the cook’s knife and fled from the kitchen before the police arrived. Now Ironface had TWO butcher knives. He had never killed people using two blades at the same time before. He smiled the smile of a black-hearted killer, because he knew things were about to get bloody. 

Ironface arrived at NASA Headquarters just in time. They were about to launch a new rocket to Mars, and the countdown sequence was winding down. Instead of taking the elevator up to the catwalk, Ironface scaled the scaffolding in three 18-foot vertical leaps. When he got to the top and climbed up onto the catwalk, he came face to face with Debbie the astronaut. 

“Hey, this is a private launch pad, you’re not supposed to be here?” Debbie screeched at him. Debbie the astronaut thought she was so smart and pretty; but she wasn’t smart enough or pretty enough to avoid getting her throat slit wide open by Ironface’s razor sharp knives. He crossed his arms in an X and drew the sharp blades across both sides of her throat as he straightened his arms back out. The front of his shirt was soaked red with waterfalls of blood.

“10…9…8…” the loudspeakers blared. The command center was seconds away from launching the rocket into space. Ironface had only a few moments to get on board, or he might lose the opportunity to avenge his lover’s death forever. But there were a lot of people he still had to kill along the way, including astronauts Van and Larry. They ran out of the rocket towards him on the catwalk, hoping to intercept him. Instead, Ironface cut into Van’s belly and intercepted his large intestine. He ripped it out of his stomach and slapped him across the face with it, sending him tumbling nearly 35 meters to the ground. Van did not survive the fall and died with the smell of his own shit on his face.

“7…6…5…” the countdown continued. 

Larry met an even more gruesome fate. Ironface jabbed his thumb and two fingers into Larry’s mouth and eyes, snapping his head from his body at the neck and turning his now lifeless skull into a human bowling ball. Ironface tossed Larry’s head down the walkway towards the rocket, knocking fourteen more astronauts over the edge and sending them all tumbling to their deaths, screaming. 

“3…2…1…” the countdown was almost over. 

David and Greg, the last two remaining astronauts, were panicking in the cockpit of the rocket. Greg slammed his hand down on the launch button in a moment of pure terror. But launching the rocket early wasn’t enough to stop the bloody rampage. Ironface jumped onto the side of the rocket as it flew into the sky, inching his way up the outer wall until he found an airlock. He climbed inside and made his way to the cockpit where David and Greg thought that they would be safe. They were wrong. It only took a few seconds for Ironface to slice a large hole in the door with his knives.  

“Who are you? W-w-w-what do you want?” Greg stammered, trying his best not to wet himself. 

Ironface pointed a bloody knife out the cockpit window towards the red planet. “Mars,” he growled at them from beneath the mask. 

“Okay, but if we take you to Mars, you have to promise not to kill us!” David insisted firmly.

Ironface growled at them again from beneath the mask, but reluctantly sat down in one of the cockpit chairs and strapped in. It was hard to get comfortable because the chair was too small for his massive, muscular body, and his seatbelt was too tight. But he tolerated it long enough for the rocket to make it to Mars and for the three of them to land safely. Then he unbuckled his seatbelt, snuck up behind them, and stabbed them both in the back 37 times each. Both Greg and David died twitching in large pools of their own blood.

The rocket’s landing pad was located right next to a domed colony. After Ironface exited the rocket and entered the dome, the first thing he saw was a Martian brothel. It was filled with hookers and also had a bar in the lobby. Ironface figured that if his lover’s killers would be anywhere on Mars, it would be in an intergalactic house of ill repute. He stomped angrily as he made his way inside. 

Ironface kicked the front doors wide open with his massive boot and walked into the lobby. It was an expansive 2-story open space with a high balcony overlooking the ground floor. To his right was a small bar. An old man named Ben with wire-rimmed glasses, a goatee, and a black beanie with red and white trim sat at the bar drinking a Blue Moon. A small black-and-white cat was curled up on the stool next to him, sleeping peacefully. The bartender emerged from the kitchen with a freshly grilled hot dog. He served it to the old man with a nod and a smile.

Ironface hated the smell of beer and hot dogs, so the old man hand to die. He approached from behind as the old man was taking his first bite of the hot dog and stabbed him through the back of his skull, skewering the hotdog on his knife. When he pulled his knife back out, the hot dog was still on his bloody blade, so he ripped it off and squeezed it into mush with his meaty fist. Then he threw it on the ground angrily. The little cat hopped off the stool and started nibbling on the mushed food while his owner bled to death on the bar. 

Prostitutes and customers who witnessed the gory murder started running around and screaming in a panic. The double doors to the master suite on the second floor burst open, and an angry man with short pink hair and a horseshoe mustache walked out onto the balcony. The prostitutes that were in the bedroom with him were sad when he left them because he was such a sensual and attentive lover. But they were too scared to follow him out of the bedroom – all except for one prostitute in particular, who was wearing a leather gimp mask.

The BC Warrior was the most popular wrestler on all of Mars. He was naked except for a tight pair of black bikini underwear bottoms and dark sunglasses. When he saw the masked madman and his bloody knives, he knew it was up to him to beat him up and save all of the prostitutes from the Iron Nightmare’s murderous rampage. He grabbed the nearest chair, jumped down from the second floor balcony, and bashed Ironface over the head with it. 

“Brotherrrrr, you’re not supposed to be here!” The BC Warrior yelled, pointing at Ironface menacingly. He then bounced off some nearby velvet ropes and used the momentum to take a running charge at the masked man. He jump-kicked Ironface square in the chest, which sent both of them sprawling. They both scrambled to get back up, but Ironface was quicker. He grabbed the BC warrior by the throat and held him high in the air – but before he could impale him with his butcher knife, a sensual, almost robotic voice cried out from directly above and behind him.

“Don’t you dare hurt my new favorite lover!” The voice bellowed, followed almost instantly by the crack of a whip. The end of the whip curled around Ironface’s wrist and the razor-sharp steel tip severed the bloodthirsty murderer’s hand from his body, releasing The BC Warrior from his death grip.  

Ironface turned around and looked up to see a painfully familiar face staring down at him from the balcony. This time, he knew it wasn’t merely a trick of the light. His love, the Glitch Bitch, was alive and well – and had been hiding on Mars this whole time! Back when Glitch Bitch had regained consciousness after the explosion, s/he looked all over for Ironface, but couldn’t find him. S/he assumed that Ironface was dead. So the Glitch Bitch decided to move to Mars so s/he could spend the rest of their life murdering people with sensual torture in Ironface’s memory.

The Glitch Bitch hopped down from the balcony and approached Ironface with a forlorn expression. Ironface reached out with his remaining hand and began to slowly choke the Glitch Bitch until their eyes bulged from their sockets and tears began to roll down their cheeks. But before the Glitch Bitch could break out their trusty nipple clamps, their erotic reunion was rudely interrupted by the arrival of their arch enemies: Sweetness the Pimp and his friend, Bubblegum, The Intergalactic Pimp of the Future.

Both Sweetness and Bubblegum pulled out their guns and aimed their weapons at their two sworn adversaries. Prostitutes were screaming and customers were cowering in fear of the impending violence. “What the hell are you assholes doing in our brothel? You’re not supposed to be here!” Sweetness yelled. 

Iron face was getting pretty sick and tired of people telling him where he wasn’t supposed to be. 

He looked down at the bloody stump where his hand was no longer, then he looked at the large, cozy firepit which was keeping everyone in the lobby warm. Finally, he looked down at the butcher knife in his remaining hand and got an idea. Ironface shoved the handle of the butcher knife into his bloody stump and stuck his hand in the fire until the Flames melted his flesh securely around the knife handle. Now that knife would be a part of him forever, and no one would ever be able to stop him from killing again. 

Glitch Bitch, fully aroused by the smell of his seared flesh, fell in line next to Ironface and the two squared off against their enemies. “Shall we?” s/he moaned, barely able to contain their insatiable bloodlust. 

Ironface gave Glitch Bitch a brief nod, and the two charged at the formidable pimps. Glitch Bitch cracked the whip around Bubblegum’s gun, ripping it out of his hand. S/he slapped him across the face with his pink and gold pistol so hard that some of the gold dust residue was smeared across his cheek. Then the Glitch Bitch lept high into the air, launching themselves at Bubblegum’s face and wrapping their legs around his head. The pimp struggled helplessly as the Glitch Bitch squeezed and twisted. After a few seconds, his muffled cries were finally silenced forever when the pressure of Glitch Bitch’s muscular thighs crushed his head like a grape.

“Mmm…was it as good for you as it was for me?” the Glitch Bitched moaned as s/he lit up a cigarette over Bubblegum’s lifeless corpse. 

At the same time that the Glitch Bitch was taking care of Bubblegum, Ironface lunged at Sweetness. He knocked the gun out of Sweetness’ hand with a mighty roundhouse, then slashed his glasses off of his face with his knife-hand on the backspin. With his vision impared, Sweetness was unable to dodge Ironface’s next punch, which knocked his metal grill off his teeth and halfway down his throat, causing him to choke on it. The blow also knocked his velvet hat off his head, which Ironface caught in mid-air with his knife-hand. He tossed the pimp hat into the fire pit vindictively a moment before turning back around and plunging his knife-hand deep into Sweetness’ pimptastic heart. 

Ironface and Glitch Bitch looked at each other and breathed a sigh of relief now that their arch enemies were finally dead. They thought that maybe they could take over the brothel and live murderously ever after together on Mars, where annoying things like homicide laws and police didn’t exist. But this wasn’t going to happen. Unbeknownst to them, the self-destruct sequence on Bubblegum’s space ship was connected to a dead man’s switch. It had been counting down since the moment his pink heart stopped beating, and there was nothing that anyone could do to stop it. The explosion was so massive that it destroyed the entire planet of Mars, and everybody died.

The End. 

This is the very last story in the Ironface REDUX trilogy. I hope you enjoyed it. Obviously, these fics were inspired by DP’s Ironface stories that he wrote when he was a deranged little boy and now sometimes reads for fun on his stream. Thank you DP for providing the inspiration, thank you Zeke for bringing the stories to life by reading them so well, and thank you all for enjoying them as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them. 

PS: If you’re mad at me for ending this story, don’t worry, because I have many other stories to tell. And you’ll be able to read them, because I’m starting a blog! It’s something I’ve wanted to do for many years but didn’t have the courage to follow through on until you crazy fucks started giving me so much positive feedback. Thank you all. zekeLOVE  

Author: Alethea Ashton

Hi, my name's Ashley (Alethea Ashton is my virtual nom de plume) and I've been an avid pleasure writer since childhood. I've also been a professional copywriter since 2011. is my personal little corner of the internet where I publish the crazy, funny, sad, thrilling, introspective, satirical, and opinionated stories that pop into my brain sometimes. Variety is the spice of life, so there's a little something here for everybody. Or if there isn't let me know! I love to expand my horizons and try new things. If creative and entertaining fiction isn't your bag, I'm also available for professional projects (white-hat SEO, research projects, marketing/advertising, and the like). Kick back, relax, and enjoy your time here. Lavish praise and constructive feedback are always appreciated.

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