Louis puts his shoes back on and carefully laces them once more, then, with a certain degree of caution, he places the stool down and gently brings his foot slowly at it numerous times, fine tuning his kick. Taking several steps back and checking to ensure that the closest entity was the target, he runs forwards and kicks. It goes high, topping the stool but doing little.
Without a word, he resets it and tries again. This time, he succeeds in sending it forwards quickly in a low arc.
Something begins to grow upon the stool with incredible haste, it resembled a rose vine, albeit one of barbed wire, rusted by old bloodstains and blooming not in flowers but rather skulls of smokeless fire. It reverberated like a twisted guitar whilst around it, plastic tarnishes to cold iron as an erratic and altogether monstrous heatbeat stirs within it, serving as some infernal mockery of a drumbeat. As it reaches the peak of it's parabolic arc, the quiet pulses erupt into an infernal cacophony.
With every scream, every riff and every thump, they were delineated further. A mass of necrotic flesh and aggression hanging limply upon limp bones formed from power chords and flaming crossbeams, encased within white-hot armor that looked more like an iron maiden turned inside-out than anything ever worn in history. A skeletal stallion of obsidian, the wire rose wrapping throughout it like a circulatory system whilst the stool that formed its dead mechanical heart pumped shockwaves throughout its blasphemous form.
With a silent roar (or perhaps a normally audible one that was drowned out by the guitar solos), the horse and rider dived through the air and onto the ground, brandishing an electric-guitar-turned-electrified-axe as they charged towards their foe with the valor of the knights of old.