Demon at the Gate

Hello,

I wrote this story over on the Protector forums. Now that its done, I thought I'd post it here in case anyone from other parts of the game community might enjoy it.
Thanks for checking it out.

Prologue:

The alley groaned with the shadows of broken men. The gang leader twitched and struggled to raise his head, the orbs of eyes jumping at the hazy lights. Pain of broken ribs. The acrid stench of burnt flesh and the charred leather of their vests. To the left a cold shape, writhing in in the air like serpents twisting over a pillar, her eyes staring through him without feeling. Dead. expressionless. The killer to the right. Her hands twin stars in the darkness. Flashes of bare flesh crackling with electricity. He caught the hatred in her eyes and started, gurgling and coughing in agony as flecks of blood sputtered on to the back of his hand.

"What now Mere?"
"I feel...hmmm...I want to kill them. I want to kill all of them.
"Think that's a good idea?"
"What do you mean? Why would it be a bad idea? Explain."
"Well there are some lines...when you cross them you can't come back. Kill these men and the heroes won't have you back. Your friends would not accept you back. They would punish you."
"Punish me? What? Why? I have to do this. They need to pay for what they've done!"
"What did they do Mere?" The killer swayed slightly, the light of her pupils rolling back slightly, flickering.
"They...they [censored] my sister..they...killed...they burned my mothers store and ..she..I couldn't reach them...he gunned down my...." She raised the tips of her gloved fingers, pressing them to her temples, eyes staring blankly beyond as she murmered incoherently.

The dark witch pointed at him. Her white hair swirling around the cruel face in the deathly calm of the pre-dawn hour. Her skin bleeding into the night sky. "This one Mere. What did this one do to you?"

The dark haired girl kneeled down, the pale flesh of her breast and arms sharp against the black leather corset and gloves. She clutched his collar, pulling him forward, up as he flailed weakly against her arm. He groaned as her grip tighted, sputtering and hissing as he struggled to say something, anything to save his life. There was a pressure buzzing in his head as her face drew near.

"This one.. he..oh my god..he...they were playing in the yard..and they got to close to the street...he hit them..." Her voice trembled with rage. "you were drunk, you [censored]..and you hit them..you hit them both...and you left them there...bleeding by the side of the road...my precious boys...you left them there to die...damn you...DAMN YOU..
"Mere..
"And I've been waiting all this time to find you...you [censored]..now you're going to pay for it...now I'm finally going to make you pay
"Mere...
"WHAT DAMN IT?
"You don't have any children Mere. You've never had any children. Ever."The grip went slack. Bursts of stars and noise as his head dropped and hit the pavement.
"Oh...hahaha..that's right. I haven't had children.
"You don't even have any family do you?"
"Hahaha..no. You're right. I've never even had a home...parents.....

The voices slipped away, murmuring in the darkness. He dreamed of lying on a mountainside that rose and fell like the ocean, lightning flashing overhead. Clouds forming figures that dropped from the heavens and moved around him. Then they parted and a warmth appeared, turning the tips of his feet orange red and moving up his legs, spreading over his torso until it warmed his eyes and they slowly opened.

He had been moved, propped against the side of the building. the others too. Laid out side by side. He shifted slightly, the ache returning swiftly, sharply..but the edge was gone. His finger sought out the pad over his ribs. It was warm to the touch, heat emanating through the bandages circling his midsection. They meant for him to live.

The women were still there, oddly anticlimactic in the faint light of dawn. One had violet skin, purple where the first rays of light carressed her. Almond shaped eyes, the pupils so faint that they nearly blended into the whites. She wore a long, overcoat..finely tailored with a faint, abstract pattern stitched in the back. Concentric circles and triangles. A dark reddish-brown leather-like material. Black boots, gloves. Not so different from how women dressed downtown apart from her strange looks. Her long white hair was very straight as it fell over her shoulders and framed her face squarely.

The blaster looked young. A beautiful girl with dark hair and eyes. Cropped hair like a flapper. She was slim but curvy. Sexy in a black leather bodice, spandex shorts with pink tights. Oversized gloves and flat soled combat boots. A bloke choker round her neck with a circular pendant that flashed numbers. More visible sensor on the gloves and boots. An array of yellow lights down the edge of each forearm. He shuddered as they turned to regard him for a moment, before returning to their converstation.

"And it was on this table in a line and they told me to sniff it. But it was stupid-- it made a mess and I didn't feel anything. Then they wanted money."
"Hahaha. Is it still up in there?"
"Yeah."
"Give it to your longbow handler the next time you have a debriefing. They like to collect that sort of thing as evidence. You use evidence to solve crimes"
"Oh yeah! Good idea!" She lifted her had. The sun was rising, and as it did so she began to fade from view.
"Ah I guess it's my time to go." She smiled. A vacant smile that hung in the air like a ghost for a moment then was gone.
"Sweet dreams my dear. Till we meet again." She stood there motionless for moment before turning to face him, her eyes narrowing as she met his gaze.

The fear returned and he recoiled slightly as she approached him, standing before him again in shadow with the light of the rising sun at her back. As his eyes adjusted her gloved fingers worked their way down the front of the coat. She slowly slid it open, revealing her skimpily clothed body--black satin bustier, panties, garters stockings. She slid her hands to her hips, holding the coat open, staring down at him over the full curves of her breasts. He looked away as a perverse lust rose up inside him.

"Like it?" He laughed and coughed as the pain from his ribs seized his torso. Hissing with the exertion he tried to regain control of his lungs. "Ye..yeah...yes."

She lifted her leg, bringing the long thin tip of her right heel to rest lightly on his solar plexus. "My lover bought these clothes for me. He's being held prisoner right now. Do you think I should..", she licked her lips and rolled her eyes a bit, "do you think I should...miss him?"
"Um..uh well..if you love him then...I guess...yes."
She looked away towards the sun. He could see the line of her throat, the carotid artery pulsing slightly. He could just barely catch her words as she spoke: "It just feels so weak."

The gang leader started to shift, to rise more to a seated position, when the tip of her heel ground in to him as he grunted, pinning him to the wall. He raised a hand to shift it off his chest and she looked down at him, smiling slightly.
"Who did this to you men?"
"She did...the girl with the dark..GAhhh" A spike of bitter cold drove into his chest from the tip of the heel. His legs and arms jerked as his heart stopped mid-beat and his lungs burned inside his ribs. His eyes bulged as a second passed. Another. An eternity as his fingers curled and feet kicked hopelessly. She lifted the heel slightly and his pulse resumed, pounding in his ears as he squirmed from the sudden torment.
"Again. Who did this to you men?" Before he could reply, the heel flicked up, the icey edge opening the side of his cheek, the hot blood trickling down his jawline.

He hissed in panic. "You! You d-did it ..was you" She took a step back and began buttoning the coat as she stared at him. "Yes. It was me. And if anyone hears any differently, I will be back to finish the job." She waved her hand languidly towards the other bodies.
"For all of you."

Convergence

Arbitor Clarke stepped into the cell, laying the folders on the desk as he sank into the chair on the left. He slid off his shell helmet and placed it on top of the files. The sensor array crawled across the ceiling and extended a data probe. "It's in my helmet. My logs are recorded there, I haven't had time to transfer."

It scooped up the headgear and returned to default position at the center of the room. He tapped the intercom-- "Murakami were you able to track down a hard copy of the fifth folder?"
"Yeah I got it, I'll be right there."
"Great. Thank you." He sighed, rubbing his sallow face with both hands, his warped tired visage staring back at him in the reflections of the spherical cell wall. He took a folder off the desk and flipped through it again. "This doesn't look good." He tossed it back on the pile and leaned back, fingers folded together with the hands resting on his chest. Murakami entered and sank in the opposite chair. She handed him another folder and began wrestling the widow helm off her head.

"Redside?"
"Yep. Auuughghh.." She shook her head, then massaged her face, wiping away the hair matted to her cheeks and forhead. "That's why we couldn't find it for so long." She slid the helmet under the desk. "I heard a rumor that we're picking up a new totem soon. Maybe some less cumbersome armor..any truth to that.."
"Dunno. The spider thing has worked really well...." He skimmed the pages quickly. "This is..correct? You're sure about this? Her?"
"Yeah. Purple Twilight. It took a long time for us to connect her but she is one of the five. These people are all loners, they don't work well with groups, and none of them seem to be out to fight for justice per se. Some of them appear to be friends or acquaintances. But as a group, they function together almost as the result of...recurring coincidence. I mean, they literally just happen to be there, at the same place and time, over and over."
"I don't believe in coincidences. Good lord..I wonder if they will re-evaluate that motion to assassinate her. I voted against...maybe that was unwise."
"Well her villain group disbanded. Some of them were actually killed, some just appear to have left. Longbow discovered that she had a love interest in New York. They incarcerated the guy and are holding him to have leverage over her behavior. So far it appears to be working."

Clarke collected the folders in a stack. He waved his hand and the sensor array reached down and took them.
"Show us the summaries as they appeared at 8:00 this morning." A lense on the surface of the array lit up and a holograph of documents appeared in the air between them. "Note that Purple Twilight here is an ice blaster named Chime. Show us the summaries as of 1:00 pm, highlight discrepencies."

A second light appeared on the array. Another set of images became visible beneath the first. Red blocks of color peppered the images. Murakami's eyes widened. "So many.."
"Yes. Particularly the one in the center. Now show us your scan of the hardcopy files I just gave you."

The third set appeared, a reddish blur in the center. The visible information was littered with gibberish.
"These are the files you just had scanned?"
"Yes indeed." Clarke reached up to the array. "Hand me the folder for Supercreep, that red blur we see in the third hologram." The array passed him the folder and he held it open, presenting the files inside for his associate's inspection. Pages that no longer held any language, the ink running down the surface in vague streams.
"What is happening? Are they reshaping reality or are they just..somehow interfering with our vision?"
He laughed. "I wish I knew. But this is...in a group of five, just five, you have two--possibly three non-human entities. One of the five is a villain, an actual criminal. Not playing along but actually undermining our work for reasons we don't yet understand. We've got to either get these people immersed or break them apart somehow. If they pull back the curtain, the whole thing could unravel."
"What do you propose we do?"
"What we usually do. Contact Warden Berkely. I want him to handle this personally. He needs to put a task force together as soon as possible. And on our end...I'm going to get Van Vogt on this one.."
"Oh. Do you..." She broke off mid-thought and looked away.
"Yeah. I know, I'm sorry, if we had any other option I'd pursue it. You know that.."
"Yes I understand. It's just that we promised to leave him alone after the last..incident. He's given so much and we've...ruined him. He's not the same man anymore."
"I know." He pressed his face into his hands. "But he's the only one that can pull this off. We can't do it without him."

Task at Hand

Warden Berkely entered the room and took in the menagerie packed around the conference table. A giant blue man. An exotic, purple skinned woman and class A criminal who had sent dozens of his men to the hospital--some to the morgue. The chair in the middle draped by a tan trenchcoat. As he got near, it literally inflated--stiffening, the neck flipping up to reveal a shiny, white oval mask. A smiley face in black lines on the surface. The two remaining chairs were oddly mundane. One was empty and the other seated an older, heavyset man with white hair and circular, wire rimmed glasses. He was simply dressed in a black turtleneck and jeans.

"It looks like we're still waiting on someone."
"She'll be here, sir. She doesn't physically manifest herself until it's dark." The blue man kneeled on the floor, the chairs in the room wholely inadequate to support his mass.
"Pardon me son. I'm sure that we can find something comfortable for you to sit in."
"No no, it's fine. I sit like this all the time. It's actually more comfortable than sitting in something built for a normal sized person. It's fine. no worries."
"Hypercube right?"
"Yep that's me." He adjusted the square frame of his oversized glasses and reflexively ran his fingers through the hair over his ear.

The warden deposited his notes on the lecturn, then turned again to address the group. "Thank you all for coming. My name is Warden Berkely. I'm one of several officers that organizes hero crime fighting efforts out of this facility. My direct superior is Positron. I assist him in dealing with threats to the city that are specifically scientific or technological in nature. Sometimes we are working merely to keep dangerous tech out of the hands of people that would.."

Supercreep's gloved right hand reached up and removed the mask, lifting it from the bottom, the edge gripped between his thumb and the edge of his index finger. Almost as soon as it was removed, the surface crumbled to dust and faded away without a trace. Beneath was another mask, identical except that the smile had become a straight line. The older man at the end of the table smiled and spoke up.
"Do not be alarmed warden. My theatrical friend is just taking this very seriously." Supercreep rapped his knuckles once on the table and then raised his fist emphatically: thumbs up.

"I see. Well as I was saying sometimes we are just keeping things out of the wrong hands." The purple woman smiled and crossed her legs. "The wrong hands...well for example people like Ms. Twilight here. People who would take relics from the war, advances in science and medicine and turn them towards destructive ends. Harm our city, our security forces, our families...innocent people who've done nothing to deserve it. But..," he forced a smile, "you're not going to behave that way this time, are you Purple?
"I will be good, my master."
Hypercube shifted slightly, the metallic material of his pants and shirt rustling.

"Let me cut to the chase. This is not one of those times, we don't have a clear objective or idea of what is going on. What we do know that there are several villain groups that are stealing technological components from private industry, other criminal organizations, and even from some of our outposts in contested areas such as Bloody Bay. Nothing unusual about criminal organizations wanting high tech. But in this case you have vahzilok stealing reactor components, circle of thorns going after prosthetics and neurosystem simulators, carnies getting their hands on the newest generation quantum microprocessing technology. Groups with mystical or biological paradigms stealing technological goods, that's one red flag. The other is that the different components they seem to be targetting could be used together to create various unsavory items. Cooperation between these groups is definitely not something we want to take root."

He reached into his notes and pulled out a list. "A source inside the vahzilok network has informed us of a dropoff that will occur tomorrow evening. The recent resurgence of rikti attacks in the city have left our forces spread out very thinly. We need your assistance in covering this dropoff. Apprehend the principles and get whatever information you can about an underlying conspiracy. Will you all help us out?"

Dog and Pony Show

A ripple of assent passed over the table. Supercreep's head bobbed frenetically up and down: two thumbs up. The white-haired gentleman raised his hand.

"Um yes Mr...Mr. Magic correct?"
"Yes sir, that's me Mr. Magic. Perhaps you remember my tv show? No? Well anyways I was thinking there's no need to bother these young people with this mission. I can go there, get it checked out myself, no problem. Heck I could take Supercreep along with me. He's a great showman, wonderful addition to the act."

Berkely shook his head. "No no no. People. All of you. This is very serious. I'm sending all five of you because that is all I have at the moment. You will need each other. You will need to work as a team, it is essential for your success. The teams that I have sent and couldn't work together have failed in the worst instances wound up dead." He gestured to Hypercube.

"Lets get some basic info out there. The large blue fellow to my left is Hypercube. His body is filled with a not yet understood subatomic particle that expands his body across the space-time continuum. He can control gravitational and kinetic forces by manipulating these particles." Hypercube smiled sheepishly and waved.
"I'm not a tank guys. Remember please. That's all I ask."

Berkely continued. "Purple Twilight, our resident felon, can generate manifestations of unnatural cold. She attacks with blasts of rock hard ice and slows, weakens, and freezes her opponents. This", he rolled up his sleeve revealing a large black discoloration on his forearm, "is from a blast I took 3 years ago. It thawed and healed but never changed back to it's original color. We have a chunk of ice in the lab that is 4 years old but doesn't melt regardless of the temperature in which we store it." Purple leaned forward to examine the man's burn.
"Oh yes I remember that one. Hahaha...popper."

Berkely adjusted his sleeve and looked tentatively at the remaining 2 heroes. "Um..Mr. Magic, could you tell us about yourself please, sir. What is your primary ability?"

"Ah yes. Well. I've always felt that my main power was to impress young minds with MAGIC...the magic of SCIENCE. You see when you take a person, especially a child, and you expose them to science while adding in a little razzle-dazzle, some humor, some showmanship. You open the doorway for them...to an adventure that.."
"What in the way of superpowers, Magic? What can you do to help the team?"
"Oh I am very strong and durable. I will not be bullied or deterred from my mission to entertain and elucidate. And I have a commanding presence as well, though you may not..understandably..get that from my current demeanor. I took this to be a business meeting so I left my trick bag, horns, funny shoes, etcetera in a locker."
"You're a clown sir?"
"No, no. I am not a trained clown but I have borrowed many comic elements from their esteemed tradions. I also mime a bit, but my friend Supercreep here far outshines me on that score." Supercreep peeled off a mask, revealing a smiley face with prominent pink blush marks.

"And so, Mr. Supercreep... Mr.? Ms.?" Berkely looked around the room for confirmation but none was forthcoming. "Can you communicate what it is exactly that you do?"

Supercreep tapped his fingers on the table, nervously, the pace proceeding more and more quickly. Suddenly his hands were a blur, stripping the masks away as the expressions became flickering animation--the mouth shrinking to a dot, the eyes widening and gaping around the room. A drop of cartoon sweat appearing on his forehead and slowly moving down the round side of the face.

"Whoa my friend. No need to get stressed out..Hey, how about pen and paper? Wanna write it down for us?"
Supercreep nodded energetically and reached out for a writing implement. Berkely grabbed a piece of paper and pen from the lecturn. As he handed it over, Supercreep snatched the pen, shaking it violently back and forth. CLLAAAAANNG! Suddenly it was gone, everyone wincing from the sudden metal wail that reverberated in the conference room.

"What the hell?" Three security agents appeared in the doorway, pistols drawn. Berkely waved them away. "What
just happened?" Hypercube gestured to the corner of the room.
"I think it went out there sir."
"Huh?" Berkely went to the corner. At eye level there was a hole, about the diameter of the pen. He moved his face closer and felt the breeze from the outside air. The pen had passed through an 18" wall made with reinforced concrete. He tapped his collar communicator: "Security we have a very small breach in the Notheast corner of conference room 3. Have someone come by and check it out in an hour. Thanks." Unbelievable.

Supercreep was hunched over the table, the mask pressed against the inside edge of his clapsed hands. After a moment of awkward silence, the warden opend his mouth to speak. A gloved hand shot up, wagging a single finger: hold on. The masked figure turned to the side and started shaking, his right hand cupped against the mouth area of the mask. The convulsions grew stronger, his torso rocking back and forth. Mr. Magic rose and went to him patting him firmly on the back. Abruptly a cloud of flickering white lights emerged from the mask's drawn on mouth, fluttering up towards the ceiling on vague, whispy wings before puffing out. Mr. Magic laughed.

"Nothing serious folks, he just had some butterflies in his stomach."

The warden stared at the group, laughing there on account of this strange puppet-like figure, on the eve of their task force. The moment they would bravely go forth and lash out against the forces of evil. Save the world. Save the city. Save everyone in his life from their own insanity and instability. By coming together as a team and just believing. He felt a sinking feeling in his gut. How were they going to pull this off? How were they going to sell it to these strange rogue dreamers. The overhead lights flickered. The crackling of an electrical charge. What now?

"Heellloooooooooo." The empty chair was now full with a beautiful girl. Mid-twenties. Dressed in a black cocktail dress with a man's suitcoat and tie. She smiled at the others they greated her, even the Supercreep who flashed a smiley face and waved. The warden smiled as well.

"Is this the Mere Mal Faire I've been hearing so much about?"
"Yes that's me!" She beamed, her smile radiant. "Are you a longbow bigwig?"
"Well, hehe, sort of. I'm Warden Berkely. I'm arranging the task force that you will, hopefully, agree to participate in."
"Oh? Ooooh wait I have something I need to give to you!"
"You do? What?"

The girl leaned forward, placed a finger on one nostril, and blew a long stream of white powder out of the other and on to the table. It went on and on until there was a substantial pile. Then she wiped her nose with her sleeve and looked around the room, trying to gauge the approval of the people present.

"Evidence? You can solve the crime now?"


(Note: Warden Berkely never recovered his pen. Two days later a school 3 miles away was evacuated due a bomb threat. Explosives were indeed found on site, but the wires to the bomb's detonation cap had been severed by a high velocity object, presumed to be a bullet, that had entered through a basement window.)

Rendezvous


Hypercube ducked through the large double doors and entered the patio. The night sky was remarkably clear, despite the haze of the city below. He glanced at his monstrous shadow, writ large by the patio floodlights its crude contour sliding over the wall of the compound. He looked away, but it remained in his thoughts. An oversized freakish thing, looming over his life. His hopes crushed beneath its ponderous weight. He turned slightly, the urge to flee--to give in to circumstance--sapping his will. But he sighed and moved forward. How could he be any worse off?

Mere Mal Faire paced at the edge, six stories above street level. She watched people moving along the streets, ducking in and out of storefronts, lounging outside of caffees. Nothing to be seen. She watched some young men get ejected from an expensive restaurant. The maitre 'd gestured to their hooded sweatshirts and baggy jeans. She slid her suitcoat off and dangled it at arms length over the precipice.

"Here you go." She let her grip lapse and it slid away, tossed wildly on the wind as passed out of view in the shadow of the building. "Catch it. Here, catch it catch it catch it. Catch it." The young men walked away from the restaurant. "Awww, you didn't get it. Tooooooo bad boys." She flapped her necktie in boredom. Well maybe there's a nice salaryman out there for you. She slipped it off her neck and let it go, grinning as it floated snakelike through the air. "I could blast you with lightning my little serpent, yes I could."

"Mere?" She turned to face him, her hair blowing wildly in the wind, her dark eyes sparkling as the picked up the floodlights. The dress clung tight to the curves of her body, her skin alabaster to the deep blue darkness of clouds and sky behind her.
"Cubie! Hello Cubie"
"Mere I brought you this.." He held out his right hand. Within, held in place by glowing lines of force, was a cup.
"Oooooh, what is it?"
"It's hot chocolate. I made you some."
"Can I drink it?"
"No, i don't think so. But I thought you might enjoy the smell...and the warmth of the cup in your hand. It's awfully windy out here."

She took the cup and held it up beneath her nose, her head bowed down a bit.
"Mmmmmmmm. Yes I like it. Thank you Cubie."

He shuffled his feet for a moment, looking around the patio.
"I hear they are making you a bracelet that will allow you to stay here during the day."
"Yes."
"That's good right?"
"I don't know. I sleep when nobody needs me."
"Well I need you..we all need you..."

The wind picked up, flags on the roof snapping restlessly.

"Say Mere...I was talking to the tech guys here at the base. They have a lot of interesting equipment here, you know? They have a room in the basement that the blasters use to practice their nukes. They told me that they could configure it for me..so that I could expend all my force. When the particles leave my body, you know, I start to shrink back to my real size. So..if I really unload there, I could turn back to my old self again for a bit. You know? You could see how I really look...wouldn't that be cool?"

She was very still, holding the cup to her face. But something was changing. He thought it was his eyes playing tricks, or shadows cast by the flags as they fluttered over the lights. And then she slowly looked up and he could see the lines on her face. The focused look in her eyes. The change in her posture, the way she carried her weight. 10 years older? Maybe mid 30's now? Older?

She reached out and gently took his hand, her fingers barely large enough to cover two of his.
"I am loss."
"Pardon? What do you mean Mere?"

She glanced around the patio and then met his gaze again.
"I am the loss of everyone in this city. The pain. The yearning as they sleep. And their desperation and anger. I could never...," she searched his features, eyes wide. "I could never form a connection that would lead me to lose more. I could never bring myself to add to that tally." She slid the tiny cup into the immense center of his palm and then closed each finger over it. "I'm sorry Paul."

"Mere..I.." She turned and slipped back into the building, without looking back. A dizzy hopeless panic as she went through the doors. Her delicate frame turning to slide through the half opened-glass. Then was gone.

He stared up into the darkness, the heavens rendered vast and cold by his bitter despair.
"I guess I'm worse off now." He opened his palm and the cup of hot chocolate rose into the air, clusters of luminous blue particles flowing over its surface like bees. He gestured with his other hand and a bubble of force appeared around it, slick and glassy. "Somewhere out there, there is a meaning to all of this...." He gently prodded the bubble, sending the cup floating off into the sky, zig zagging as the wind jerked it to and fro. "Please find it for me."

She Broke My Bike


Memo: To Arachnos Arbitor Clarke
From: Longbow Warden Berkely

Arthur, we had them all here at the base last night so we could prep them for the task force. I took advantage of the close proximity and had my psychics try to get a read on Purple Twilight. Nothing. Not a damn thing. And we have lost almost all record from our case files. I don't know how the hell she is doing it, but we are losing all the info on her abilities, her history, and so on. I asked you this a month ago and you were clear. But in light of the present situation, lemme ask again:

CAN I PUT A BULLET IN HER HEAD? Please let me rectify this situation before it can get any worse. I have a full contingent of men placed here. We will probably never get a better opportunity. I'll be waiting on your answer.

P.s. One of my senior psychics just called in. This guy receives visions in his dreams. He just woke up and was pretty groggy but here's the transcript. Gibberish to me but maybe you can make something out of it:

...I was standing on the shore of a small lake. Everywhere was grey. The sky. The rocks. Everything reeked of sulphur..there was a sulphuric mist that was rising off of the water. The shoreline was covered in small rocks, the place wasn't sandy--it had the look of recent volcanic activity.

A figure emerged to my right. An old woman, hunched over, mumbling. A couple appeared behind her. They were mid thirties, dressed for a funeral. Hanging on the old woman's words, straining to hear. The woman sobbed in a handkerchief as the man listlessly guided her by the shoulders, his free hand holding a gift wrapped in the funny pages, tied with a red bow. They didn't see me, but I caught a glimpse of the old lady's eyes. Blind. Wandering aimlessly.

There was a voice behind me. A child.
"Mister can you help me?" A small boy, maybe 7. He was wearing a grey outfit, almost like a uniform. His skin was pale and his eyes didn't blink at all. I knew that he was dead. I kneeled in front of him.

"How can I help you son?" He held up a rock. Then a mound appeared behind him. A pile of rocks about 3 feet tall. The mist thinned a bit and I could see other piles along the shoreline. Other children methodically placing stones on their piles. There were also gifts strewn among the piles: wrapped presents, toys, clothing...even candy. The boy put the rock in my hand.

"Please help me make a pile." I started placing rocks on the pile, working alongside him.
"Why are we doing this?"
"If we pile up all the rocks, then we can leave. But only during the day. And at night, the demon comes and knocks all the piles over so that we have to start again in the morning."
"Is there anyone that can help you?"
"There is a boy. He's older. And he's ...made out of the sun. He makes us laugh and sometimes he show kids another way out...when it's their time." He looked at me. "He is our friend. He says that he will never go back to heaven until we are all free."
"What is this boy's name? Do you know?" The boy shrugged as he placed another stone.
"He never told me his name. The old women call him Jizo."
"Do you know how I can talk to Jizo? Is there someplace I can go to find him?"

I was placing another large rock on the pile when it became intesely cold and my fingers stiffened around it. I scrambled to my feet as the agony shot up my arm and racked my shoulder. My free hand clawed at the stone, trying to pry it loose, and the fingertips burned as I yanked them away. The mist swirled in front of me forming a column of darkness that blocked out the lake as it congealed. Two baleful eyes formed in the center and I was filled with a terror that rooted me in place. They moved closer as I was frozen there, helpless.

Somthing tugged on my arm. "Mister can you fix this? My mom and dad left me this bike. But she bent the frame. Can you bend it back please? She broke it. Mister?"

I woke up. Sergeant Mills was shaking me, trying to wake me for 10 minutes. I am filing this report and then going to the medical station as I still lack all feeling in my right hand and cannot unclench my fingers...

The Method Man


Van Vogt lit another cigarette and glanced around the study. "Oak paneling eh? Swanky." He took a long drag. "They got a no smoking policy in this facility?"

"Not in here. Not in recreational facilities." Murakami adjusted the long slit of her velvet dress and brushed the wrinkles in her lap.
"Too bad. That would've pissed me off. Given me another reason to say no to you people." He looked her up and down. "Why are you all dolled up?"
"Clarke thought it might improve your mood. He's pretty desperate."
"My mood is dead." Van Vogt sank into the plush fibers of the couch, ash spattering on his powder blue pinstriped suit. He waved the cigarette. "I buried it back behind my trailer in Boca."
"You're not that old Van. And I know you've never been to Boca." She stretched her arms out to her sides and rolled her neck. "It just feels good to spend some time out of the armor."
"Hmmm I'm sure. If I were 20 years younger i'd bend you over that bar over there and bang your brains out. That'd feel good too."
"Charming."
"I'm trying." He fidgited on the couch, tapping the ottoman with his foot.
"Don't get grumpy with me. I didn't want to bring you in. You know that."
"Yeah...yeah..."

The door opened and Arbitor Clarke entered, business suit and tie, carrying a bottle of wine. He paused at the doorway. "Van let me say right away how sorry I am that I have to call you in on this. I mean that. Sincerely. If there had been any other option you wouldn't be here." He nodded to Murakami and went to cabinet, reaching inside to withdraw 3 glasses. "Shall I pour? Want some wine while we discuss it?"

Van Vogt grunted. "Just get on with it. Make your pitch. Stop wasting my time."
"Okay Van." Clarke left the wine at the cabinet, and pulled up a chair. "Here's what I was thinking. We need one of the major arch villains. Someone really epic, that has really made a mark on the history of the city. My choice if you agree is Mechalomaniac. We've got a ton of gear left over from the last campaign, there are hundreds of those facsimile bots still in storage, we are easily equipped to use him however you think appropriate."

"Yeah go on."
"But there's also this. I was thinking back to which appearance was the most successful and in my opinion, and a lot for the others agree with me....it was when he had Kinkertoy as his accomplice. Remember how much fun the third campaign was? You had the insane man-machine god wannabee teaming with the sorceress who turned women into zombies that hungered for the brains of their lovers." Van Vogt turned to Murakami.

"Who'd be doing Kinkertoy? You?"
"Yeah. You know it's been a while but I'd actually like to get back in the game a little. Really. I've been penned up in the office the last few years, hiding out from psychics. A little change is welcome."
"You see Van," Clarke leaned forward, "the way I see it--Kinkertoy is the primary adversary. She's trying to resurrect you. If we need to, you come in at the end as the coda to the campaign, a thrilling end. It may not even come to that. Maybe she gets defeated and you never come in at all. There's flexibility with respect to how things may proceed."

Van vogt extinguished his cigarette on the arm of the couch and sat up. "Ok question."
"Of course."
"We've got a boy that controls gravity. We've got a purple-skinned demon girl who causes trouble. Seems to be manipulating things. Real mean broad. Right? Then there's This masked puppet guy. And we got a real young girl who is essentially psychic energy given form. Last but not least, former children's show host Mr. Magic, who is super strong and resilient. I've got that all correct."
"Yes in a nutshell."

"Well good. Now the question is: which of those will I have to kill?"
"Well...if things go well with the task force.."
"Egh!" He got up and poured himself some wine. "Don't gimme that crap Clarke..your lies. Who's gonna get whacked?"
"Ok, we all think Purple Twilight has to go. It's one thing to have a few potential whistleblowers on hand. It's another if they seem to know...something..and are disrupting our work. Berkely wants to off her immediately."
"Berkely? That moron shouldn't be making these sorts of decisions." He downed the wine and poured another glass.

Murakami rose and went to the cabinet, taking a glass. "It would most likely be done before you entered the picture Van.."
He poured her a glass. "Having you do it doesn't make me feel any better. If you're trying to guilt me into it that's pretty low."
"No! No. Cmon now. I'm just trying to..ease your burden..."
"You're talking about killing this woman..why what's she doing?"

Clarke stood up and stretched. "She's hacking our database. We don't know how."
"What's her motivation?
"I don't know Van."
"Well...you're talking about killing someone. Not arresting them..outright killing them. And you don't have motivation? You're not bothering to figure out why?"

Clarke threw up his hands in frustration. "Van. We're hacks! We're administrators. We got a pretty good handle on keeping things running smoothly. We keep the supers engaged so that they don't tear everything apart. This is out of our depth. It doesn't make any sense. It doesn't follow any logic. I'm not asking you cause it's convenient, Van--WE NEED YOU. You are the expert on motivation. Please help."

Van Vogt took the bottle and dropped back down on the couch. He was still for a moment, his posture limp and haggard.
"You know..before all this crap happened I was a method actor. You know I tried to live the fiction..had to get to the emotional truth behind the part. And some of us started to get burnout. Depression. Unresolved angers. Baggage from living someone else's life for five nights a week plus matinees." He gulped his wine and stared into the empty glass. "But then the world ended and now it's much worse. My characters run around offstage and kill people." He turned and sprawled back on the couch. "It's ironic. This Mr. Magic...I remember him. We did Waiting for Godot in that little hole-in-the-wall theater that used to be on Canal. It sucked." He closed his eyes. "We were both pretty young."

"Van can I tell the council your on board with this?"
"Yeah yeah yeah. Now go away..lemme get drunk in peace." Clarke went to the door. Murakami smiled wanly and waved him out. She closed the door and went to Van Vogt, kneeling down beside the couch and taking his hand. He squeezed her hand firmly for a moment then started pouring himself another drink from his prone position, slopping wine on his lapel.
"Still here?" He mumbled to himself. "..soo tired."

"Van I'm so sorry. Thank you for helping us."
"It was foolish to think I could do the things I've done and ever get clear." He rolled his head to look at her.

"This Purple...Clarke sent me a dossier..said something about a boyfriend. Tell me about this guy."
"He's a firefighter. She was based in New York. She got the locals on her side by putting out fires. She didn't break any laws there, just helped out when there was a blaze. There was a fireman in one of those precincts that got a crush on her. Wasn't unusual, the local law enforcement was pretty sweet on her as well. So this guy, wanted to get close to her...he fakes being unconscious, and she ends up carrying him out of a building. I don't know if she was flattered or amused or what but they started seeing each other after that."

"She carried him out of a burning building...hmmmm.."
"Yes. Does that mean something to you?"
"Possibly. There is a Buddhist story...the Buddha went into a burning house and rescued a child. It's a central metaphor. The burning house is the world we know. The world of sin and karma. This facade we've created would certainly qualify."
"Are you saying she's divine?"
"Maybe. Our criminal may be a sacred being. Maybe all of them are. Five incarnations of the same sacred being all present at once.." He shrugged. "Who can say."
"Does that give you any vibe on her goals?
"Nah it's thin. But she's definitely provoking Clarke. She wants a reaction. It just might be that she doesn't intend to destroy something. There might be something that she's trying to save. Well, whatever. The die is cast as they say. Wait and see."

Murakami slid the bottle from his hand. "I think I'll have another. Something frightens me about all of this, I don't know why." Van Vogt shrugged.
"Well what did we expect? I guess you can't play god for over thirty years without taking some flack from the angels."

Addicts


The Sowell industrial park in King's Row was a great place to get high. Over 100,000 square feet of mostly empty factory space. But they'd been converting it, leasing artist lofts for extremely reasonable prices. They ran a weekend market twice a month, with artist booths and food vendors on the ground level. It wasn't hard to sneak the things you needed, and if you were living on the street, there just wasn't a better place to crash than here. Mary skipped back down the hall...so nice to be able to pee in an actual working restroom. Warm water for her hands. She turned the corner and stopped.There were strange men in the hall. They had Bobby stretched out on the floor and he was...opened up. They had knives and needles. Blood was everywhere. Hulking shapes held his wriggling body in place. She stiffled a scream, pressing her fist tight against her mouth, but a choking sob escaped her throat. A man turned. His face was a half skull and mask over his mouth. He gestured and they came after her.

She ran through the corridor, shrieking at the top of her lungs, her greasy hair whipping her cheeks as she turned back to look. To see them lumbering through the darkness after her. Her sandal tripped on a power cord and she keeled forward, bashing her forehead on a chair as she came down. Dizziness and agony as she scrambled blindly across the floor and hid in a shallow closet space. She curled up in fetal position to stay out of sight, her breath ragged. There were pain spikes in her head and the side of her hand as she bit it to swallow back the panic.

"She's there. There! On the floor." Her eyes teared as she listened to the lifeless thud of their steps. The moments slowed to a crawl as she was frozen there in place, every muscle in her body aching to run but the pain and horror kept her still. Hiding from her death that was mere seconds away. She winced as a huge dessicated foot slid in to view. She mumbled as the lifeless behemoth groaned, reaching down to seize her. Then the voice boomed in the corridor.

"HEY BOYS AND GIRLS DO YOU WANNA HEAR ABOUT THE MAGIC OF SCIENCE? DO YOU WANNA HAVE SOME FUN (honk honk) WHILE EXPLORING THE MYSTERIES OF THE NATURAL UNIVERSE? WELL COME ON OVER! IT'S TIME TO ASK... MR... MAGIC! YOU'LL LEARN ABOUT HEAT. YOU'LL LEARN ABOUT ELECTRICITY. WE'LL DO EXCITING EXPERIMENTS THAT YOU CAN THEN DO AT HOME TO SHOW YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY! AND WE'LL MIX IT TOGETHER WITH FRIENDSHIP AND SOME GOOD LIGHTHEARTED HUMOR. SO COME ON OVER KIDDIES! AH..HERE ARE SOME EAGER FELLOWS COMING MY WAY.."

She gaped as the zombie left her to follow the voice. There were other men's voices cursing and hissing. "Why can't we control them!?!" Then there were sounds of fighting. Bodies being thrown around. Buzzing and hissing and crackling with
intermittant blue light. She slowly leaned forward to take a look.

"AAAAaaahahhhhhhhhhh!!!!" She shrieked as a hand seized her hair roughly and yanked her to her feet. The skull face thrust her against the wall and looked her over, sadism in his deranged, bloodshot gaze.

"Due to...circumstances. We have to cut this short, weasel." He laughed and raised his long square blade, swinging it in a
wide vertical arc towards the center of her body.
The blade stopped, pinned between the palms of two tan gloves. The reaper growled and yanked at the handle, releasing Mary and using his free hand to aid the effort. Supercreep abruptly let go and the man staggered back, just as he took a front kick to his gut that sent him sprawling to the ground. Two hulking corpses appeared in the hallway on the other side as he pulled himself back up.

"Get him!" he hissed, trying to regain his breath. The zombies began to lurch forward, but the masked figure ignored them.

He paused dead still for just a second then raised and slapped his left foot before snapping it back to the ground. He clapped his hands crisply and then spun in place--two fast rotations. His left hand shot up, pointing to the ceiling. The right rested on his on his hip as he threw 3 quick pelvic thrusts.

"Wow!" Mary's jaw dropped. The Reaper became visibly incensed.

Supercreep clapped his hands again, did a little hop, then walked forward with a jaunty prowl. His hands were thrown wide open, palms forward. His head bobbed side to side as he shimmied forward.

The reaper rushed forward and slashed once again, straight down the midsection. The blade hit the hero but did not cut him. Supercreep's shirt opened and the reaper's arm sank inside.
"What the hell?!?"
From the back, Mary could see the shape of the killer's arm and blade being redirected out of the Supercreep's left sleeve. As the man's hand and weapon popped out of the cuff, his head was sucked in, bulging in the Supercreep's back for a moment before popping out of the neck of the shirt.

"Get the hell off me you freaaa.....AAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!" One of the zombies had stepped forward and spewed toxin on the awkward, two headed figure staggering there."Noooo...not me hhhhiimm." The reaper howled as the larger of the two zombies took them in a bear hug, lifting them off the ground as Supercreep's head bobbed loosely. He writhed frantically, legs kicking as Mary could hear his bones snapping inside. His head hung lifelessly and the abomination dropped him, a vague unthinking grin on its hideous countenance.

As the body dropped, Supercreep's form disengaged from the reaper and rolled away from the corpses. It continued rolling, moving away towards the sounds of fighting. The zombies shambled after him. She was alone again. She was alive.



Mary could see the supers in the distance, stacking the now stiff bodies on to a pile. There were five of the skull masked men chained to a post, waiting to be taken to jail. They were also looking through metal boxes full of strange machine parts and talking, particularly the giant blue man and the old man who was something between a clown and a hobo. They took no notice of her. Biting her lip nervously she began to slip down the hall the way she came. Back towards Bobby.

The stretch of hallway fell into darkness and she stopped. Was there someone there? Did she see a shadow move"
"H-hu-hello? Is there somebody there?"
"Yes, I'm here." A woman's voice.
"Are you one of the supers? One of the crime fighters.."
The woman's voice fell of a bit. Mary concentrated to listen. "Yes..I suppose you could say that."

"Oh..well I was just in here when ..all this stuff happened...and they came after me." Mary started tugging on the front of her shirt. She shifted her weight side to side, nervously. "They got Bobby. I need to go back to him."
"No you don't want to do that." The woman's voice drew nearer.
"Um ma'am are you going to bust me for being here...please don't we didn't mean to cause any trouble..."

Purple stepped out of the shadows. She smiled at the girl, leaning against the wall hands in her trenchcoat.
"No I'm not a police officer."
"Oh that's great ...I..well I have to go back to Bobby. I know he's dead but...he was holding for me. It was all I had. I need it."
"You mean this?" Purple pulled three plastic baggies full of powder out of her pocket. The girl clawed it out of her hand,
her expression fading from predatory lust to abject humiliation as her eyes alternated between Purple and the floor. "I'm sorry...thank you for getting it. Thank you for getting it for me ma'am." SHe started sobbing and wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve. Purple moved closer and took her by the wrist.

"What's this bracelet you have here."
"Oh, it's from the clinic. There's a free psychiatric clinic a few blocks from here. I go there for treatment a few times a week. I'm treated for schizophrenia."
"Was Bobby treated for the same thing?"
"Yeah. We actually met there. Most of our friends go there too. One of them told us about this place." Her head drooped as she slid the pouches into her pockets. "Bobby and I were a bit worse than the others. That's why we got along so well."

Purple ran her fingers through Mary's hair, brushing it back. "What horrible luck. The two of you meet there, are directed to this place, and end up getting attacked by zombies and organ thieves. What a cruel...coincidence." Mary shrugged.

"Yeah. Story of my life, right? I have to go now ma'am. I need to see if my friend is home so I can crash there."
"Best of luck my dear."

Debriefing


"Alright, we don't have much time people, I'm sorry to be brief. In addition to the contraband you seized, the head vahzilok had a data chip surgically implanded in the subdermis of his abdomen. These various components are being gathered at an old tenement building on the outskirts of King's Row tonight. In addition to time and place information, there were also some arcane symbols present that related to ritual and resurrection. These glyphs were invisible but also present on the boxes you acquired. I have a team of mystics putting together a disruption spell that you will activate on site to render any such components in the area unsuitable for..anything mystical in origin. They said it would be ready one hour from now. I'm going to check on their progess now."

Mere blinked. "We came all the way back here and we didn't even make it to the conference room." Warden Berkely, shrugged and waved his hand.

"I'm sorry Mere. We never know how long it will take to analyze a report. If I could've redirected you guys out in the field I would have but we just weren't ready. Now please take some time to relax and unwind before we throw you out there again. You all did a great job. Keep it up and I know we'll solve this."

The group started to disband, Mere and Mr. Magic chatting as they walked towards the elevators. Supercreep ambled towards the stairwell. Berkely cleared his throat.

"Uh I am especially pleased with your performance in this Purple. We are all glad that you finally are doing the right thing. Really."

Purple smiled and lifted her arm, presenting her hand for him to kiss. "You're going to have to try harder to sell it Berkely." He stood there for a moment longer, taking her in, an odd smug look on his face. Then he turned and left, passing through a security checkpoint farther down the hall.

"Purple..."
"Yes Cube."
"Can I ask you..why do you antagonize him like that?" Purple turned to face him, her gaze cold and unwavering.
"Because he's worthless filth. I despise the weak. I despise lesser beings."
"Oh..."
"Next question."
"Well...erm...over at the industrial center. That kid got killed. I saw it on the way in. But later the body was gone. Do you know what happened to it?
"I buried it. Someplace safe."
"You did? Why did you do that?" She took a step towards him, scowling. He could feel the temperature in the space between them plummet.
"That's none of your damn business. Next question." Hypercube took a step back reflexively.

"What's gotten in to you?"
"Disgust. Contempt for you mortals...you foul, overripe walking corpses. All of you are worthless except for Mere. She at least can serve some use." Hypercube felt his fingers twitch, his jaw clenching involuntarily.
"And what would that be, exactly?"

Purple Laughed and raised her hand to her mouth as she continued to giggle. "Are you serious? Have you not seen her body? Are you so out of touch with being a man that you haven't lusted after it. I intend to sell it."

"That's not going to happen. You're sick! How could you talk about her that way?!"
"She's the perfect cash cow for me. No worries about injury or disease. Her little fool head is so easily turned, she'll agree to whatever I want. Over time I'll teach her to enjoy being used MANY different ways. She can still beat them down at
night. Then she can spend the daytime on her back. Or on her knees. It's going to be so hot for the clientele." She grinned.

"NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!"
"Oh? And what's an overinflated freak like.." Hypercube lashed out, his oversized hand catching nearly the whole side of Purple's face as he slapped her. She stumbled slightly towards the wall bringing a palm to her cheek. She watched as he raised his fists, blue pinpoints of light swarming over the surface.

"I'm going to warn her about you. I'm not going to let you drag her down." Purple leaned against the wall, rubbing a finger over her bottom lip.

"Be my guest. Tell her everything I said. She's down in the lounge waiting for me to make her hot chocolate. I'm going to freshen up. YOU go down to her. YOU give her the damn drink." She pushed past him and walked away, rubbing her jaw.



Mere sat at a table near the window, staring at a small black box infront of her.
"Cubie!"
"Mere..." She ran to him, grabbing his arm and turning him to the side, as she looked behind him. "What are you doing?"
"Looking for Purple. Have you seen her? Is she here somewhere?"
"No. Mere she had some things to take care of. But she sent me down here to...."
"Yes?"
"Uh..I'm supposed to make you some hot chocolate, since she won't be able to come."
"OOoooh good. But come here first. Look. I got a present." There was a small tag on the box: To Mere from Purple. "It was so funny! I came here and sat down at this chair. I got bored so I got up and looked out the window. When I turned around the box was there! Ha ha ha." Hypercube glanced around the lounge. Mr. Magic was in the opposite corner of the room joking and laughing with 3 longbow officers. Otherwise the room was empty.

He pulled out some chairs and kneeled at the table. Mere sat down on the opposite side.
"What's inside?"
"I don't know yet. I was waiting for Purple to come and then I was going to open it."
"She's not coming now Mere. Go ahead and open it. Why else would it be here?"
"Oookay!" She removed the lid. Inside was a note and a smaller velvet jewelry box. Mere read the note:

(Dear Mere.
In this world, all things eventually come to pass.
When I am gone, look to this gift
and remember one who loved you)

"Awwwwwww." Mere opened the jewelry box and pulled out a necklace with a small triangular pendant. "I love it! See?"

"Can I take look?" Hypercube took it in his hand and scanned the molecular structure of the object. The chain and surface of the charm were some type of hard ceramic. The interior of the charm had some powdery substance. There were no metallic or moving parts. "Where have I seen these shapes before? These circles and triangles?"
"Oh on the back of Purple's coat. It looks like the same design."

"I think you're right." Hypercube handed the necklace back and watched as she fastened it around her neck, beaming with pleasure.

Goon Squad


"Is this the right place? Where are all the trucks?"
The five wandered the perimeter of the building, conspicuously devoid of any vehicles. The tarmac glistened in the rain, reflecting the sole street lamp at the edge of the lot.

"How did they get the stuff in here? Flight? Teleportation? Or are we just really late?"
Purple stared up at the dim green glow emanating from the upper story windows.
"They probably know we're here. I think the best bet is to expect an ambush."

They filed on to the steps to the side entrance. Awkward silence.
"Well are we going to go in an bust some...butt?" Mere rocked on her heels impatiently. "Am I saying that right?"
"You usually say bust heads Mere. And kick butt." Hypercube's shadow loomed over them, even from the lower steps.
"Well are we?

Mr. Magic shrugged. "Ladies first?" Supercreep scratched his head. Purple smiled and moved forward, pulling the door the left side of the heavy glass doors open.


Beyond the art deco tile of the foyer was the central hall and the grand, wrought iron stair case. It curled there, the spine of the building, black with atrophy and bathed in the dingy glow that leaked from the upper levels. Past that pale aura the open floor lay before them littered with shadows and debris. The air was thick and cool, faint sounds of steps and creaking, groaning joists and trickling water floating in from nowhere specific. Their steps echoed on the ceramic as they filed in and the door clicked shut behind behind them, severing the sounds of the street.

"Look."
A woman emerged from the shadows of the hall behind the staircase. She was blurry in the dim light and it's haze of dust. Her long black hair spilled over the surface of a crumpled wedding dress. Holes in the fabric revealed hints of her body wrapped in gauze bandages. As she moved there was a creeping, tarry discoloration that bled to the surface. Her head drooped forward and her arms hung listlessly.

"Hello?" Mere called to her. "Do you live here?"
The woman lifted her face slightly, more of the black fluid drooling over her bottom lip as she spoke.
"Are you here for the party?" Purple took a couple steps closer, her eyes shifting from side to side, scanning the recesses of the room.

"Yes we are. We've been invited."
The woman smiled slightly and raised an arm, pointing up the staircase. Then she backed away into the shadows, exactly as she had come without turning. She faded from view quietly and seconds later there was the sound of a door sliding shut and locking.

Purple laughed. "Yes they're expecting us."


On reaching the third floor, Hypercube rubbed his hands together.
"Does anyone else feel chilled? I know the actual physical temperature in here is not cold, but I feel like I'm...freezing."
"Yes I feel it too." Mr. Magic folded his arms on his chest, inserting his gloved hands beneath his armpits. "What's going on? What is this?"
"Some form of spiritual attack. Like an aura. It's coming from the apartments." Purple walked several steps away from the staircase, examining the numbers on the doors. "It gets stronger as you move away from the steps. I'm not affected. I doubt Mere will be either.."
"Nope."
"But it will eventually be a problem for you gentlemen if it keeps up."
"How so?" Hypercube went to side of the corridor and placed his hands on the wall, glowing particle streaming out from his fingers.
"The sensation you're experiencing is the precursor to a more severe effect. Could be energy drain, disorientation, some kind of mind control, hallucinations, paranoia.....incontinence.....sexual dysfunction......"
"Ha Ha. Funny--Oh, crap..." The others moved closer.
"What is it?"

Hypercube stepped back, shaking his hands, an exagerrated shiver passing over him, magnified by his size.
"There are bodies behind these doors. Just standing there, right behind the door. And also..." He turned and leaned forward, clutching the stairway rail as he looked over the edge. "Oh no..."

The others went to the staircase and peered down. On the ground floor there was movement. Bodies were quietly starting to ascend. The movement reached the first land and the could see the strange woman from earlier, staring up at them with a smile. And then the same woman again, stepping up behind the first, identical. More slowly dragging their way up from behind.

Mr. Magic staggered back from the rail, bumping into the wall. "Wha..what are they? Some kind of ghost? what's happening to the light..it's so dark.."
"They're behind the doors here too. They're watching...I can feel it..." Hypercube pressed his hand to his face.
"I..I..don't..know what to do..feel strange..."

The lights in the hallway flickered. Mere raised her fist, a corona of blue light as it flashed with arcs of electricity.
"Enough of the spookshow already! Snap out of it guys! Purple I'm gonna toast this chick..."

Supercreep tapped Mere on the shoulder and lifted one finger, shaking it: hold on. He grabbed his pants by the waist, cinching them up, and then started bouncing violently on one leg..shaking the other spastically as he did so. He stopped for a moment, shook his whole body vigorously, and then bounced some more. This time a small round object rolled out of his pantleg. It was the size of a babyfood container, white with irregular black marks. It rolled across the floor to Purple and she picked it up. There were holes punched in the top of the cylindar and a label on the side that said "barnyard buff."

She looked at Supercreep. He held his right hand out, as if gripping a bottle, then turned it over. The other hand lifted: thumbs up. "Alright then." She laughed and flipped it over.

mmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

The roar and wind blasted them, the full length of Purple's hair standing on end and streaming behind her. The doors in the hall rattled and the rail of the stairway vibrated, parts clanging together loudly. Hypercube looked at his hands--fresher, brighter, the metallic shine of his uniform's shirt and pants renewed. "I feel..clean! I feel pure! I am FEARLESS!"

Mr. Magic went to Supercreep and grasped him firmly by the shoulders, his teeth and glasses sparkling like vintage Hollywood decadence. "My boy you have done it again!"

Purple scowled and tossed the voice box to Supercreep. "I didn't get anything out of that. Look at the mess it made of my hair!"

Supercreep raised a finger signaling them to pause, then raised the other hand to his ear. They moved closer together, looking around them as the sound of the doorknobs slowly turning started to register on their collective consciousness. The figures on the stairway began to snarl. They could hear the same vicious rumblings emanating from each apartment on the hallway as the doors began to creak open.

The Death of Purple


The figures crept forward, the crazed woman's face leering at them from every body, black syruppy liquid pouring from their mouths and eyes, their hands clutching an assortment of bladed implements. Mr. Magic raised his forearm, blocking a small hatchet as it sailed through the air on it's way to Mere's head.

"Ahh..that hurt. It didn't break the skin but I can feel it." The mob on either side hissed as Purple projected a surge of cold air that rushed through the hall and left the surface of the wall crackling with frost in its wake.

"You only feel it in your head. It's an illusion..as are thes....Mere no, wait!" Mere threw out her hand and struck a figure in a nearby doorway that toted a pistol, her lightning blast jerking it's body violently, smoke rising from it's bathrobe as current made it smolder on the surface. The body fell and morphed into that of an elderly woman, eyes staring blankly. Withered from age and twisted from the violence of the blast.

"OH NO! What...did I..
"Everyone back onto the staircase! Start moving up." Hypercube threw a curtain of force over the group as sharp implements starting raining down on them from the mob. As they backed up on to the stairs, bodies continued to pour out of the rooms, filling the hall. More figures appeared from below, making their way to the landing from the lower levels.

"We have to go up."

The five hurried to the next floor. There was a pale cool light from the exterior windows, visible as all the interior walls had been demolished, everything torn down to the studs and doors left standing in their frames. Running along the floor, winding around the skeletal frames of the rooms and the haphazzard piles of construction debris was a pattern composed of machine components, twisting and turning through the space like an oversized circuit board.

Mere leaned over the railing, watching the dark haired woman's clones approach.
"Purple, what are they? Did I kill someone back there...an old lady?"
"It's an archvillian named Kinkertoy. I encountered her once many years ago. She replicates herself using the bodies of her victims. These clones are probably the tenents of this building. I don't know whether they are already dead or not.." She turned to Hypercube and Mr. Magic, standing on the other side of the bannister. "One of you needs to hold them off while we start the disruption spell."

Hypercube grunted. "I don't remember anyone putting you in charge...but I think I can hold them off." He stood at the head of the stairs and prejected a wave of particles from his hands that slowly descended down the stairs. The figures below were illuminated in the torrent of energy, their movements slowed as the increased gravity began to weigh on them. Some of the closer figures began to flicker and fade, moving in and out of the visible spectrum of light. "I can keep them bottled up here for a while, but eventually they're gonna break through."

Purple took a scroll case and a box of components out of her coat pockets. Scanning the area, she found a spot on the floor that was mostly clear of debris and set them down in the center. "Mere, you remember the directions Berkely gave for activating the spell?"
"Yes.."
"Well I need you to do it. They can hold off the mobs."
"Me? But why..what are you going to do?"
"Kinkertoy is controlling her minions from an upper floor. I'm going to stop her. I need you to get the spell running here. Now, while I keep her occupied." Purple rose and went to the staircase, brushing past Hypercube as she ran up the steps.

"Purple! Wait!" Mere turned back and started frantically placing the spells components in the proper layout. She put the pieces in place and turned towards the others.

"Guys! Someone go up and help Purple. She shouldn't go up there alone." The two men exchanged glances. Hypercube shrugged.
"I can't leave Mere, I'm blocking the way. They'll get through as soon as I stop." Mr. Magic idly adjusted his props.
"I'm sorry my dear, I'm just a worthless mortal. I can't see myself being of any use to her."

Mere looked at the pieces laid out before her, trying to calculate how long the ritual would take to effect and consequently how long Purple would be without her help. "What the hell is with you guys?!? Help her!!!" She started looking around the room, scanning different directions frantically. "Creep! Suuuuppercreep! I need you! Please help meeee! Creep!"

There was a commotion and a cloud of dust as Supercreep came stumbling from the recesses of the building, carrying the body of a teenage boy over his shoulder. He laid the body down on a stack of drywall shards and went to Mere.
"Oh god..there are some of those things up here?" Supercreep nodded yes.
"Creep I need you to please go to Purple. She went upstairs by herself. Go help her--watch her back."
Supercreep stood straight and tall, saluting her before he ran off up the stairs after Purple.



Purple pulled herself up, clutching the rail as the dark mass of tentacles tore at her legs and torso. She stumbled and fell to one knee as the waves of dark energy battered through the skin of ice covering her body. As she pushed forward up the stairs, wrenching herself up again with both hands on the bannister, shadowy figures moved forward, servants of the glowing green eyes that floated in the black at the center of the room. A withered corpse ran forward as she raised her arm and it brought a metal pipe smashing down on to her forearm. As she grunted an collapsed back against the rail, others came forward, striking her on the back and arms and hands as she struggled to protect her head.

Desperately, she began to wriggle her torso over the top of the rail, trying to fall clear of the tarpatch that held her in place as the pipes cracked across her back and legs. Suddenly, a large armored figure emerged and seized her by the ankle, lifting her up and suspending her directly over the abyss at the center of the stairway. She kicked and flailed as the zombies beat her around the head and shoulders.

Two hard hits knocked her left arm clear and a third landed squarely on her temple, her ruined form going abruptly limp.

(More. We have to make sure.)

The zombies struck her methodically, over and over on the head and neck, the reflexive jerking getting weaker and weaker until there was no more response..only the counterswing from the force of the blow. Blood poured down on the lower levels from gaping wounds where Purple's scalp once was. The armored giant turned to Kinkertoy.

(Ok. Let her go. The others need to see her fall.)

The corpse swung Purple's ragdoll remains slightly as he dropped her. He watched as she bounced off of the opposite rail below, her arm waving as she spun away into the distance.

Calmer Eye Flick Shudder Within


The dull wet thud. The sickening flutter of a body falling. Mere turned, her eyes wide like platters.

"No....."

There was a cacaphony of steps on the staircase. A desperate pursuit. The others turned, slugishly in the quiet horror of the moment. Supercreep came into view, lunging over the edge as he snatched at Purples trenchcoat. He caught it with two fingers. Holding her limp form aloft for a moment. Two seconds as Mere rushed to the rail, then it slipped away. She looked down over the top of the rail, past the frenzied corpses to the now bloodstained checkerboard tile of the landing. Purple was sprawled in the center, her neck and arm bent at wrong angles, one eye swollen shut from the beating, the other vacant and glassy. Her jaw open, the lips frozen into swollen disbelief.

"Someone will pay for this..."

Hypercube watched her fall, incredulous. He reached out reflexively and shouted something, calling out to Mr. Magic. Supercreep held her for a moment then lost his grip. She dropped away, slamming down broken on the floor below. He looked up and there was a darkness descending, gaunt figures swirling in a cloud of shadows. He moved towards Mere watching the rage build in her eyes.

"Mere we have to.."

An explosion of white light. Mere was thrown back across the floor. Her eyes rolling spastically in her head as she writhed on the ground. They ran after her.

"My..necklace..it...I..feel..strange...where.. is .....sheee." The necklace was gone, small particles of the ceramic stuck to the front of her shirt.

Mr. Magic lifted her in his arms.

"We can't stay here. We need to regroup."
"I agree.." They looked back to the stairwell, Supercreep shaking off two of the zombies as he rolled across the floor to reach them. Larger figures appeared from the level above. Giant corpses with iron armor and swords. Eidolons stitched together and skinned in black vinyl. The column of darkness expanded and Kinkertoy emerged, her green eyes burning, long black hair swirling about her head. Faint symbols crawled across her skintight black uniform as she gestured towards them, laughing.

"Leaving so soon? You've only just arrived? I can't allow that."

Hypercube brought his hands together and then pushed forward, a wave of force ripping through the room shattering studs and blowing out the side of the building behind them, the thunder of loose bricks pounding the lot below. They scrambled out, leaping into the darkness with death and failure at their backs.

Procedure


"It went very well. Congratulations. It went much smoother than I expected it would."
"Thank you." Murakami fished around in her box of fries until she captured the odd onion ring. Clarke looked across the cafeteria to some soldiers packed into another booth, laughing as they recalled some exploit from the previous evening.

"I hear that Berkely was so overjoyed he went out last night and got royally pissed. And that he was too hungover to teach his classes this morning."
"At least someone gets some joy out of the situation. For my part...I had a woman beaten to death. It doesn't feel too great."
"I know. I know. I'm sorry that we called on you to perform that duty." Clarke took her hand. "But you probably saved the lives of the others. As soon as Purple was removed from the picture things started returning to normal. So I doubt we will need any more overt intervention in the lives of the remaining four."

Murakami sighed and rubbed her face with her free hand. "That's a relief. They aren't bad people. They seem to be playing along."
"Berkely's got them running around assembling some secret weapon, right?"
"Yes they need to gather the pieces of the mystic staff of blah blah blah. Put it together to counter Kinkertoy's mystic powers and banish her once again from the earthly whatever. Ta da I disintegrate, teleport my butt out of there. They get honored for their bravery. The rest is more or less a show. I just need to be there for the fireworks at the end. I'm not even going to bring other agents with me."

Clarke nodded. "Nah. I agree, overkill." He leaned back on his side of the booth, taking another bite of his burger. "Have you...spoken with Van Vogt about recent events?"
"Yeah..." She swiped a couple fries through the ketchup and nibbled the tips.
"What did he have to say? Anything? I know he didn't want us to move forward so quickly..." Murakami shoved the rest of the fries in her mouth, digging in the package for more.

"He didn't say much. I know him well enough...he doesn't think it's over. But he didn't comment."
"So maybe it's his pride. Doesn't want to admit he overreacted."
"It's possible, but...I try never to second guess him. It usually doesn't go my way. Hopefully we can wrap this up soon."
"My thoughts exactly. We need to move on. Get back to business as usual."



Clarke sat at the communication terminal and dialed the morgue. A moment later a man's image appeared on the screen...thin, bookish with a round face and round glasses. Dressed in blue scrubs, a badge around his neck and clipboard in his hand. He was smiling, smoothing his disheveled hair with his free hand.

"Good morning Arbitor Clarke."
"Good morning Agent Bloch. What news do you have for me?"
"Well...we basically just have a human female body sir. Some peculiarities, but nothing all that unusual except for the pigmentation of the epidermis. Not what we were expecting to see given the subject..pretty anticlimactic on our end...
"Really. Well...what are these peculiarities you mentioned?"

The coroner smiled sheepishly and flipped through the papers on the clipboard.

"Weeellll...first thing we noticed when we opened her up was that the breadbox was missing. Not that we were expecting her to.."
"Wait. What?! Breadbox?"
"Oh, hahaha. Sorry sir..we..go a little stir crazy down here, with all the bodies that pass through our doors. We have nicknames for stuff.."
"Agent Bloch. This is probably the most important case you will see this year. DO NOT give me reason to cite you for lack of professionalism."
"Oh yes. Yes...sir. I apologize. It's been a long night. She was missing her appendix."
"Ok. What else?"

Bloch lifted his glasses and looked more closely at one of the sheets.

"She had very inflamed nasal passages. Indicative of a long term issue. Do you know if our girl had been a serious drug user?"
"Hmmm..wow. No I've never heard her characterized that way..."
"Also, she had very high cholesterol. At a level equivalent to someone who was obese and had been eating a very poor diet...low fiber, lots of saturated fats, and so on. In fact her organs in general were very fatty. I would've considered her a strong candidate for type 2 diabetes if she didn't already have it."
"Wait. Are you sure you have the right body?! This woman was fit. She had superhuman strength and agility, not to mention stamina."

The coroner held a form up to the camera. "This is the release form that Agent Murakami signed when she brought the body in. Also, I have...", he withdrew another sheet and held it up, "this authorization form that you signed permitting us to jump this autopsy forward in the queue so that we could get you the results right away. This was the body that was given to us. If you like, I can have the remains pulled off the shelf for visual inspection."

"No, no. That's all right. It's just...those are very strange findings. How do you account for it, knowing the nature of the subject's abilities when she was alive?"

Bloch stared at the clipboard as he reattached the paperwork.

"Well the key issue, in my opinion, is that this woman was mystical in nature. Based on similar cases my staff has seen in the past..we have two thoughts. The first is that Purple Twilight was a spiritual entity that had assumed control of a human body and altered its basic function. When the body was killed, the spiritual essence departed, leaving the flesh in more or less it's original condition, apart from the epidermis.

The second theory is that this mystical creature was killed. And upon it's death, aspects of its physiology kind of reverted to forms that were appropriate to our material universe. In other words, Purple never had high cholesterol. But there was something in her blood, some mystical alien components that, when she died, BECAME cholesterol as it translated into something appropriate to our realm."

"I see." Clarke rubbed his jaw. "Do you have anything else for me doc?"

The man set the clipboard down on a table. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, rocking slightly on his heels. His jawline was tense, lips pressed firmly together.

"Bloch? What is it? Is there something you want to say?"
"Well sir..it's...it's just that.....
DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD
LA LA LA THE WITCH IS DEAD
DING DONG THE WICKED WITCH IS DEAD!!!"

He threw up his fists and howled.

"Wooohooooooo! Yeah!"

Clarke was unable to choke back his laughter.
"Hahaha, ok ok, enough of that. I'll tell you what, after this task force is wrapped up I'll hook you guys up with some R and R, ok?"
"Excellent! That would be most appreciated sir. By all of us."

Schism


The platform was mercifully empty as they filed in. As the train doors parted they moved to the sides, allowing Hypercube to squeeze his bulk through the aperture and find a space inside to comfortably sit. Then Mere followed, finding a spot on the opposite side. Supercreep and Mr. Magic then entered at more or less the same time.

"I hope we get to see your smiley face again soon, my friend. This long face just isn't you..it pains me to see you this way." Mr. Magic patted Supercreep on the shoulder, but the latter brushed his hand away, patting the area with his fingertips and then wagging a solitary finger: Do not touch. He sat alongside Mere, crossing his arms and legs, the frown mask dipping forward as his head drooped slightly. Mere looked at him then faced the others.

"He's angry with you two. Because you wouldn't help Purple. You let her die alone."

Mr. Magic shrugged. Hypercube held out his hand. "Mere...that's not the way it was..."

"Yes it was. I was there. I asked and you guys wouldn't help."
"Mere there are things you don't understand about Purple. There are reasons we..had reservations about her..."
"Explain." Mere's gaze skipped back and forth from one to the other. The old man sighed and Hypercube shrugged.

"It's late. Maybe we should just let it go for now." Mere's eyes flashed and began to glow, electricity flickering over the surface.
"Damn you. You..traitors."

Mr. Magic leaned forward. "My dear, you have to believe me. That woman did not have your best interests at heart."
"It's true Mere. She made it very clear to me that she intended to use you for her own gain."
"How? What do you mean? Explain!"

Hypercube gazed towards the floor. "Look Mere. I know she was your friend. But she was a criminal. I know she was helping us...but she had to..and I don't think she had really changed. She was not a good person.."

Mere threw up her hands. "What is a good person? Purple told me that bad people were good people who lost their convictions in the face of self-interest. She said most people were bad people."
"That's what I mean! She was filling your head with..strange ideas. Strange ideas about the world so that you would do the
things she wanted."
"What was she going to have me do?"

There was an awkward silence as the blue tone of Hypercube's head turned a couple shades darker. Mr. Magic looked at him and coughed.

"Um... I believe it was prostitution Mere."
"What?"
"She was going to prostitute you to her criminal associates.."
"Oh sex? SEX?! For money? Hahahahahahahahahahah! She said that?! To who?" She looked at Hypercube. "You?"

He nodded. "Yes Mere she told me that was her plan."

Mere leaned forward. "Now listen to me. I can't HAVE sex. Do you understand? I am not a real person. This body..", she patted her cheeks with both hands, "this body is the dream of how somebody wanted to look. I can't eat or drink. I have no sense of taste. Sometimes I can't tell whether something is hot or cold. I am energy, and thoughts, and wants and dreams given a shape. That's all. Nobody understood this more than Purple. When she first met me, I couldn't even speak. She got me to this point." She leaned back.

"What did you say when she told you her plan?"
"I told her it wasn't going to happen and ...I slapped her."
"Oh? And she didn't kill you. Strange." She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. "Why were you angry? Why did you slap her? Would sex make me a bad person? Would selling my body make me a bad person?"

Mr. Magic spoke up. "Mere, there are right and wrong ways to behave. And as you get older, you have to learn the proper way to act. Especially if you're going to be a hero, part of which is being a role model for young people."

"Mmmmmm. A few years ago, I was wilder. And I really desired to be with a man. I wanted to experience physical love very badly. I told Purple that if she could make it happen, if she could make me real enough to sleep with someone, that I would sell myself and give her the money as a reward. It was kind of a joke we shared."

Hypercube shifted in his seat. "Mere, why would she lie? Why would she tell me that and say that we were all worthless to
her, except you?"

"I dunno." Mere touched the base of her neck with her fingertips. "Why did my neckplace explode? What was she thinking?"

They sat there for a moment in silence. The train rocking gently, rain drumming on the windows as the city rolled beneath them. She turned to Supercreep.

"Creep, do you have any clues for us?" Supercreep's body stiffened and shook a little, the posture of nervousness they had seen in Berkely's conference room during the first meeting. Then he slowly reached inside his coat and pulled out a small black and white photograph. His head bobbed loosely as he handed it over to Mere. The others leaned forward to get a good look.

The scene was a room in a burned out institution. A ward in some sort of hospital, the charred iron frames of children's
beds stretching in a line to the left. Purple was sprawled out on the floor, her tights ripped and marked with stripes of dirt and soot. Propped up on her left, her right arm was thrown up over her face, blocking the upper half of her head. Below, her lips twisted in the grip of an agonized emotion, grief, anger, horror....it was hard to reconcile with the dispassionate persona they had all known. It was hard to picture what she was feeling. Supercreep stood over her, leaning down slightly to be in frame. He held the remote for the unseen camera, the cord trailing away towards the viewer. The flash reflected brightly on his mask, making the underlying expression illegible. Ominous shadows of bars from the bedframes projected over everything, the stripes suggesting a claustrophobic compression of the space, as if the scene were shot underwater--the fine strands of Purples hair caught in the current of a shipwreck.

Mere flipped the picture over, revealing three lines of lyrics or verse scrawled in pen on the back:

"And everyone has recourse to the law
And no-one kills the children anymore
No one kills the children anymore."

From Scumbag With Love


Memo: To Senior Agent A.E.Van Vogt
From: Arachnos Arbitor Clarke

Hello Van,

Well, as you requested, I went looking for "soft spots." As I've already informed you, the task force is going quite well at this point and I really don't think you will need any info of this nature. But you still want it--here it is.

This pertains to the strong man, Mr. Magic (aka Roy Baker). I dug up some of the old Ask Mr. Magic shows. The one I've attached for download is of particular interest. It features a segment where Magic and an assistant do a couple experiments with a potato...making a battery and something else..i just skimmed the latter part. The boy's name was Danny Javits.

Now, attached to this memo is also some newspaper clips about Danny Javits later in life. This is Danny Javits the engineer that developed the stress-expansion universal joint that revolutionized hip replacement and other forms of medical prosthetics. The first article I've included has an excerpt from his acceptance speech at the Rockwell science awards, the year he won the grand jury prize:

"In addition to thanking my family, friends, teachers, and fellow researchers, I would like to mention someone who had a profound impact on my life early on--Roy Baker, who most of you will recognize as Mr. Magic from the Ask Mr. Magic! television show. The day I fell in love with science was he day I fell in love with his show, and I would really like to extend my gratitude to Roy and the producers of that show for feeding my curiosity and encouraging me to ask questions. Roy made science fun for me then and thanks in great part to his example, I am still having fun with it today."

The is also a quote from Mr. Magic about that speech. You can find it in the bottom half of the second article:

"Well, what can I say. It's incredibly gratifying..I'm floored really. The goal of the show was to get young people interested in science. To make it fun and exciting. To hear that we succeeded with someone like Danny, who has made such a contribution...well I'm just so proud. Proud of the show. Proud of Danny. I mean this...this is truly the happiest day of my career. I love doing what I do but this...just somehow makes it even better!"

I think you can see where I would go with this...


Oh and Van, before you inform me again.

Yes, I know. I am human filth. I am an evolutionary throwback. An ethically diseased beauroucratic vermin.
And sexually dysfunctional too.

I hope you don't need to go this route. But if you do, there's my input.
Cheers,
Clarke

The Game Changer Part 1


They crouched behind the peaked roof of the sunken crypt, peering over the edge at the shadows working in the myst below. The night sky was clear, the moon smiling down on them without care for concealment. The dead trees of the cemetery rustled faintly as the cultists murmured their rites.

"This is the last one?" Hypercube cowered further back, lying flat on his chest to hide his huge frame from view.
"Yeah. Yeah this is the one. When it's done, the ritual will be disrupted and...I guess we use this," Mr. Magic held up an ornate wooden staff, "on Kinkertoy when she shows up. Right?"
"That's what the genie girl said. I don't want to use it. I'm not good at magic." Mere plucked at the tips of her gloves.
"Well who then?" Magic looked around at the others, eager to hand it off.
"Well your name is Mr. Magic..."
"That's just a stage name kid! I'm not a wizard!"
"Shhhhh. Keep your voices down. We have to move on this soon."

Supercreep snapped his fingers lightly and beckoned for the staff. Mr. Magic smiled and slid it over to him.
"Good man!" Supercreep raised his free hand, his expression still one of dejection: thumbs up with a frowny face.


The cultists jerked as the ball of lightning burst on the ground in front of them. Before they could react, two were hurled against nearby headstones by bolts of force, knocked cold by the impact. A third raised his hand overhead, conjuring a massive ball of rock that he then hurled towards Hypercube. Mr. Magic stepped forward and struck it with his fist, shattering it in a cloud of dust and flying debris. As the Supercreep stepped forward towards the circular alter, his foot broke a line of glyphs. A line of blue fire ran around the edge of the ring and burst out at the far side, coalescing into a large, hellish beast. A lion faced demon wielding icy chains, that drove Hypercube back with a blast of frigid energy and trapped him in an icy shell.

Mere dropped out of the sky, rocking the creature with a double fisted overhand strike that would rip through steel. The creature howled in rage and swung an oversized chain at her head. She stepped to the side, just enough to let it pass then reached down and grabbed hold. As it yanked the links back, she went with the pull, swinging around the creature's arm and torso. Pulling it tight, her eyes blazed as she cut loose a current through the metal that burned the demon, it's scaley hide smoking and crumbling away as it lost connection with the human realm and dissolved into smoke.

The fight was over quickly. Hypercube rubbed his arms as Mr. Magic gathered the last mage, tossing him into the crypt where the rest were being held and closing the door.

"Okay. I guess we're ready. You ready to work some magic Creep?" Supercreep nodded, lifting the staff. Mere turned the gem encrusted centerpiece of the alter counterclockwise and tapped each of the five glyphs on its perimeter twice, one after the other. The alter's glow faded and they all started as a long wail broke out over the graveyard. Instantly lights were flickering in the distance, shadows and green fire moving in their direction with great speed.

"Get ready to use that thing, Creep.."

The hellish glow was upon them, Kinkertoy floating in the air above the field, her figure wrapped in an aura of green energy. She wore something between a gown and a suit of armor, plates of metal and scales of leather flanged and fluted in an ornate pattern that followed the curves of her body. Gem stones glinted at her throat and wrists as she gestured at the altar. Her dead green eyes didn't register the heroes until she was almost upon them, then a disdainful anger crept over her countenance.

"FOOLS. LEAVE NOW OR BECOME MY THRALLS IN DEATH. YOU CANNOT STOP THE RESURRECTION OF MY LORD." She moved past them to the altar, taking the centerpiece in her hands.

"Creep! Use the thing! Now! Use it!"

The tip of the staff of Serafina burst into a blinding white light. Kinkertoy spun to face it, throwing an arm up to block her eyes and hissing. "NOOOO! NOT THAT LIGHT!!! TAKE IT AWAY OR I WILL CONSUME YOUR SOULS IN HELL!!!"

"Now Creep! Now!"

Supercreep took a step back and raised the staff into the air. They could barely see the lines on the mask as it reflected the ball of energy, his gloves and trenchcoat a brilliant, pure white. His shadow flickered on the ground, inky in the brilliance of the power. He was angelic and surreal as he held the tool of their salvation, the weapon to avenge Purple and rid the city of this specter that would consume the world in endless unliving replicas of herself, opening the doorway to an even greater evil that was beyond their comprehension.

They watched as he turned. And ran off, taking the staff with him.

"CREEEEEPPP!!! What the hell man..come back!!!"

Three heroes and an arch villain watched as the deranged frowny faced crimefighter bounced up off a cement bench and leapfrogged over the stone head of an angel, passing from view and leaving them in the green glow of utter confusion.

The Game Changer part 2


[Agent Murakami to central dispatch]
[I'm here Agent Murakami. Are you ready for that teleport?]
[No...that masked creep person just took off with the staff. I'm in pursuit right now.]
[Good lord..you're kidding..]
[No I wish I was. That teleport is gonna have to wait. Don't worry about the delay I'll call it in when I'm ready.]
[No problem, we aren't busy this evening, I'll have someone standing by.]
[Great. I think I'm going to have to off this lunatic. Hopefully someone else will then pick up the staff and finish this. But if you hear from Berkely or Clarke give them a heads up. We might need to tweak the wrap up.]
[Will do. Do you need any assistance on this?]
[Nah. I'm bending over backwards to help these idiots. They're the ones that need help. Short of falling and breaking my own neck I don't see how I can make this any easier.]
[Gotcha. Well keep in touch. We got yer back if you need anything.]
[Roger that.]

Supercreep bounced like a bunny in the field ahead, leaping from headstone to headstone as they chased him.

"Cubie is there anything you can do to make us go faster?"
"Sorry Mere, I'm fighting agaist the pull but she really nailed us with this tar patch. At least we can jog." They all strained against the shadowy tendrils that tugged at their limbs, winding up around their torso as the struggled to break through. Mr. Magic hauled himself up on to the base of a monument, gaining a view of the scene ahead.

"They're slowing down. Something's happening"

Supercreep balanced on the top of a stone cross. As the blasts of negative energy flowed through the air to strike him, he bent like a reed, arching his back, then sucking in his gut as the waves of force narrowly missed him first on the left, then on the right. As he began to slip of the tip of the stone, he evaded another blast straight up the middle, spinning as he fell off then catching a tree limb with his free hand. He swung his body up like a gymnast, rotating 180 degress to face her again, then swinging forward and back yet again--this time spinning twice backwards through the air as he came to land in a sitting position on a low stone retaining wall.

Kinkertoy Moved into range, open hands spread apart as the swirling mass of dark particles accumulated between them. She gauged the distance and moved in closer to capture a wider area in the cone of the attack. Supercreep raised a hand, palm out..shaking it emphatically: Wait! He reached inside the coat and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping it across the top of the still frowning mask. He then moved to put it back, but instead pulled out an oversized pistol, something like a flare gun and fired--a ball sputtering flame and sparks sailing towards her. She raised her hands as it reached her, bursting into a wall of sparks and sulphurous smoke that rained stench and ash down upon her. She cut loose with the torrent of force but he was already up and running along the wall out of range.

She gestured and a grave knight appeared at the end of the wall, it's cadaverous features encased in metal plates and mesh, the murderous glint in its lidless eyes like small pockets of flame in the gloom. Supercreep stopped and turned back to face her, tucking the still glowing staff under his arm as he fished around in his pocket, pulling out a large shell for the flare gun. The giant zombie made its way along the wall, raising it's dark rusted blade as he stood there loading the new shell. As it raised both hands to cleave his skull down the center, Supercreep suddenly turned, the glowing staff lodged under his armpit burning completely through it's midsection as his torso rotated. The two haves of the body tumbled off of the retaining wall and crumbled in the darkness.

Supercreep turned back to the archvillain and shrugged, throwing up his hands before taking aim and firing again. This time Kinkertoy launched a bolt of darkness to intercept the flare, but it somehow snaked past, bursting again and spattering her outfit with smoldering ash that discolored the surface in a manner reminiscent of bird crap.


"I'm out!" Mere hopped reflexively as she cleared the tar patch. Mr. Magic beckoned to them from further up the hill.
"They're over here!"

The three came over the ridge and spotted Supercreep in front of a large crypt. Kinkertoy Stood a good distance away, emitting strange puffs of smoke as she gestured wildly, a dozen corpses rising from the ground on all sides of the crypt, all turning toward him as they gained their footing. Mere called to him.

"Creep please! You can do it! Finish her off while we still have the chance!"

Supercreep raised his hand: thumbs up! He turned the staff on the zombies to his right, a radiant spotlight shining forth and burning through their foul sillhouettes. He flashed it on the other side, the undead bursting into dust as the power washed over them. He paused for a moment as the team cheered in relief, then he took it in two hands like a baseball bat and bashed it over and over again into the stone wall of the crypt until the wood split, and shattered in his hands. He dropped it. Kindling and glowing shards of wood littered the entryway at his feet.

"Oh no..."
"Dear god boy why? Why???"

Supercreep turned towards them again and threw up his hands once more, shrugging. As he did so, a shadow emerged from the crypt behind him, looming in the doorway. Mere raised her hand to project a bolt of lightning but the mask gestured, raising his hand and signalling her two stop. The corpse moved forward towards his back, its head hanging loose from a ruined neck, and when it reached his side they could see who it was.

Purple.
She turned towards then slightly, her dead white eyes staring at them blankly. Then there was a loud snap, as her hands reached up and twisted the head back into position. Then the posture stiffened and straightened as her right hand reached up and slid beneath her chin, sliding away the mask to reveal a smiley face, bold black lines drawn on a shiny white oval. Supercreep's hands tugged at the now loose purple fabric at the neckline, sliding out of the costume which draped the ground like an oversized glove, one that no longer resembled a flesh and blood female. He stepped out and waved, looking crisp and chipper in the familiar tan gloves and trenchcoat.

Frowny face leaned forward, her body shaking as it changed--chest expanding, hips widening, legs becoming somewhat longer. She stood up and slid off the mask with one hand, sliding back the tan hood with the other as she shook her hair loose and brought it into the open. Purple looked at the others and smiled.

"Sorry we had to pull a little switch-er-roo. You see, Supercreep has a generous nature and is willing to take a beating for the cause." Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Kinkertoy. "Myself, I've never been that charitable."

The Game Changer part 3

[Agent Murakami to central dispatch--things are going very wrong here, i'll take that teleport immediately]
[Hello?]
[Hello dispatch--request immediate evac! Can you hear me?]
[Can anyone hear me?]
[Oh my god..]

"You're not dead.." Purple turned towards Mr. Magic, smiling.
"Disappointed?
"Purple! You're alive again!"
"I never died Mere."
"But how..."
"The AV here was waiting for me at the top floor of the building. She wanted me well away from the rest of you. I ran up one floor and then waited for Supercreep. Once he got there we assumed each other's appearances."
"But how did.."
"Hold on Mere. There's a little matter that needs to be addressed right away."

Purple stepped away from the entry way of the crypt, moving towards Kinkertoy.
"So Kinky. You ever heard of fight club?"
"YOU WILL DIE." Kinkertoy's aura flashed brighter for a moment as she spoke.
"In Fight Club, you don't run away. And," Purple raised the flare gun, tapping the barrel with her finger as she spoke, "there's no outside help. No convenient teleport out of the zone. Just two people fighting till one is defeated."

Kinkertoy glanced down at the strange ash peppering the surface of her outfit. Purple tossed the gun off to Supercreep.
"Ready.." The archvillain raised her hand, dark power building in her fist.
"Se.." With viscious speed Purple lunged forward and launched a cluster of dark ice shards into her opponent's midsection, driving her back. Kinkertoy's subsequent blast was knocked wide, sailing over the roof of the crypt.

"Watch out!" The others backed away as sheets of razor sharp ice, like fragments of smoke tinted glass, poured down from the sky. The mist grew thick and dark, Kinkertoy's aura a faint blur on the field. Purple's voice drifted out through the wind and crackling ice.
"Ooops did I attack too soon? So sorry about that..."

Kinkertoy crouched in the grey mist, tensing her body to keep control of her limbs as the winds pounded her from all sides. There was a shadow with two points of light glowing to the left and she spun, firing two quick blasts of concusive force that cut through the shadow and slammed into the earth far away in the distance. She rolled forward and spun around the other way, sensing a movement to the rear. The force of the rain increased and she began to feel the chill sinking in through the armor.

A hard blast of ice caught her from behind and sent her sprawling forward. As she rose to her feet a shadow passed overhead, a hand brushing her shoulder as it sped by.

"GAahhhh!" Pain shot up and down her right arm, followed by excruciating numbness. Though the armor blocked the force of her opponents blows, it was begining to fail blocking out the cold. Kinkertoy staggered forward, catching sight of Purple standing several feet in front of her. She struggled to
raise both arms, releasing a torrent of dark tendrils. Purple fired back, and intense blast of cold washing over Kinkertoy a split second before the impact of the ice shards, pounding her neck and chest . Purple waved her arms, deflecting the tendrils with a shield of energy and then lifting her hands, palms up, as a stream of stolen energy bled out of Kinkertoy and fed her power, her pale eyes beginning to glow like small spotlights.

[[secondary system failure imminent]]
[reroute all secondary power to the main line]

The Kinkertoy projection faded, revealing Murakami's ice encrusted widow armor. Again she caught sight of Purple, this time firing a poison blast from her glove cannon, but she missed as the relentless cold dulled her reflexes and accuracy. Purple came forward, side stepping as the cannon fired again. The blast missed again, and she laned a punch to the solar plexus that set her opponent's lungs on fire with the agonizing chill. Then once more with a hook from the other side. Murakami managed to step inside and catch the swing, but flinched when the severe cold from Purple's forearm burned her palms. She rolled with the impact and turned, sending a high spinning heel kick towards the other woman's head, but it whistled through the empty air--no one present to offer any contact.

[deploy razor wire]

Small barbs burst from the tips of Murakami's gloved fingers, trailing thin strands of wire roughly 10 feet behind. She began to swing her arms about her head, the wires whistling as they whipped through the mist. Timing the arc of the movement, she spun through the air, lowering the vector of the wires to pass just above the ground before she landed in a crouching position, the wires now circling through a midline path. The lines clipped something at 270 degrees relative to the front of her body and she lept up, shifting the rotation to spin down vertically on the object. Retracting the wires back into the gloves, she flipped through the air launching a punishing heel kick at the crouching shadow. The ground cracked as she sent fragments of stone flying through the air, the carved remains of a statue sprawling in the grass beneath her.

[Damn!]

The shadow dropped out of a tree branch above her. Purple's heel crashed down on Murakami's trapezius muscle, knocking her to the ground in agony. She struggled to regain her footing as rock hard ice pounded her in the back.

[[Warning. Primary system failure imminent.]]

Murakami, rose up and turned, falling back against a large headstone for support. She lifted her right hand to fire another blast and Purple swept it aside, grasping the wrist as she spun her hips, driving her shin and knee forcefully into Murakami's ribs. Purple then stepped in and twisting in the opposite direction, dragged the extended arm and threw the widow over her shoulder, swinging her hard into the earth. The back of Murakami's head exploded in white light and pain as she struggled to stay conscious. She raised her hand.

"Please! I s-surrender..don't hurt me..please I give in."

The wind and mist cleared as Purple knelt down on top of her. She pushed the woman's elbows up over her head and bound the forearms in ice, locking them down on the ground as the others ran to the location. Purple clawed at the woman's helmet, eventually tearing it off and tossing it to Supercreep. Murakami's eyes were wide and dark, darting from one figure to the next in horror, her lips blue with the early stages of hypothermia. Her dark hair matted to her head, skin glistening with sweat.

Purple turned her face look at her. "What's your name?"
"Agent Murakami. What are you.." Purple grabbed her jaw, inserting her thumb in the woman's mouth, her other fingers clenching beneath her chin.
"Don't talk." She looked around the graveyard, then turned to Supercreep. "Sun's going to rise soon, but I need more light."
Supercreep pulled four flares out of his coat. He lit them and spaced them evenly around the two women. Purple gestured and he then pulled out an odd bladed tool. One side of the handle ended in a spike, the other in a blade that curved like a hook. Purple took it and began tearing away at the outer layer of Murakami's armor, in a path that started at the right side of the neckline and dipped towards the armpit on the opposite side.

"Nno..no you don't want to take that...you don't know what you're doing ..they'll kill you..."

Purple peeled back 3 layers of armor coating and ripped out a long strip of wire and circuitry. She held it up and Hypercube lifted it with rays of force, drawing it in and levitating it over his open palm.

"What is it Purple?"
"Her commlink. Keep it safe, it's very important. Now for the fun part."

Purple slid to the woman's side and began to cut and peel away the layers of armor over her abdomen, starting below the sternum and reaching to her bladder. Murakami struggled to lift her head to see.

"What are you d-doing?" Purple ran her palm over the expanse of exposed flesh, pressing down in different areas as if to feel the organs underneath. Murakami groaned and started to squirm. "Stop it. stop! What are you going to do to me?" Purple lifted her hand in the air and began to slowly turn it. The moisture congealed in her grasp and formed a long sharp icicle of black ice.
"This." She held it closer so her captive could see it.

Mr. Magic grunted and took a step forward. "Good lord woman! What are you going to do with that?" Purple turned to the group.
"I'm saving all of our lives. This is neccessary. Don't interfere." Murakami squirmed and kicked in panic.
"You people are supposed to be heroes! Stop her! Please!! She's going to kill me!"

Mr. Magic shifted awkwardly. Mere took him by the arm. "Magic. Please. For once, you have to trust her." Purple turned to Murakami again. With her free hand she pressed down on her sternum.

"If you want to live, do not move. DO NOT MOVE." Murakami frantically searched the vicinity for help, scanning their eyes for some hint of mercy, then she lay back and stared piercingly into the sky.

"Van! VAAAAAAANNNNNNN! PPLEEASE...if you can hear me...PLEASE HELP ME PLEASE!! Van...she's gonna kill me I don't wanna die..please.." She kicked and tore against the ice holding her hands. Purple lashed out, slapping her face and leaving four bars of discolored flesh on her check from the impact of her fingers.

"DO NOT MOVE! DO NOT KICK OR SQUIRM AGAIN OR YOU WILL DIE WHILE I DO THIS! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
Murakami bit her lip, nodding faintly as she gaped at Purple. Purple laid her forearm over the woman's chest and began to push the icicle into her side. Murakami groaned and hissed, her panicked breath shallow as Purple buried the object inside her, changing the angle every few inches until the entire length was buried in the bluish wound. Purple quickly raised her hand and generated a second, smaller spike--repeating the process through a second entry point as Murakami clenched her eyes shut, gritting her teeth.

"Done. Now everyone back up a bit." Purple jumped up and moved away, pulling the others further back and positioning them several feet away from Murakami's body. She took the commlink back from Hypercube, slinging it over her shoulder.

"Is she gonna be alright Purple?" Purple smiled and shrugged.
"I would think so Mere. I'm not worried about her. The way the next few minutes play out will decide whether we all die."

Mechalomaniac


They heard it before they could see it, the low drone of flying insects... magnified and metallic, as if a swarm of bees was caught in a bank vault. Supercreep pointed and they spotted the shape in the sky, a large disk slightly darker than the surrounding area. It continued to grow as it approached, becoming a giant spiked ball of bronze.

"What the hell is that?"

The ground shook as the object landed at the edge of the cemetery. The vibrations continued as it rolled across the field, pulverizing headstones and monuments, turning up earth and remains as it gouged the ground. It came towards them, slowing as it drew near until it stopped roughly thirty feet from the spot where Murakami lay groaning. It was over five stories high, the burnished brass surface reflecting the ambience of the early dawn. The droning stopped, replaced by other machine sounds from its interior as it loomed ominously over them.

Hypercube began to lose his composure. "Purple, shouldn't we be getting the hell out of here?"
"No. This is where we need to be. This is our only chance to meet him."
"Who?"
"I don't know his real name. He will say he is the archvillain Mechalomaniac." She looked at all of them in turn. "Do not be deceived by this appearance. This display. It's a sham, the same way she was." She gestured towards Murakami on the ground in front of them.

Suddenly lines of firey light began to dart across the front of the sphere. Fragments began to break off and roll away down the surface. Before the pieces would hit the ground, they'd spout mechanical extremities, becoming robotic entities that scurried over each other as they rushed to reach the heroes. They varied in size and attribute, but the average unit was as tall as hypercube and broader, armed with rocket launchers and laser cannons. They circled the group of heroes, their weapons cycling from target to target, eager for the command to attack. There were over a hundred of them, the side of the sphere crumbling away like a rotting fruit.

The robots backed away slightly as a large humanoid figure came floating over their ranks. The figure's head was covered with red sensor arrays atop an inhuman, insectlike mouth that feature an oversized jaw much like the scoop of a steam shovel. The body was powerfully built, with armored joints and terminals for various energy-based weapons. The arms ended in huge, clawed hands that crackled with electricity as they moved.

Purple nodded as it approached. "Watch."

The figure landed in front of Murakami. As it's feet touch the ground, the bulk of the armor began to collapse in on itself. The panels of the monstrous claws began to fold in and shrink back out of sight. In seconds the creature had become a much smaller man, in streamlined armor more akin to what longbow or arachnos would wear, though stylistically it belonged to neither faction. He kneeled over Murakami, the padding of his right glove receding to expose his hand as he touched her cheek.

"Ssorry...I'm..ss...sorry about....."
"Shhh. Rest. It's alright. It will be alright." He waved his hand over her body, particles of light floating down from his fingers and sinking in to her flesh. Her expression softened as her eyes closed and she lost consciousness. He stood up and raised his hand, summoning drones from the sphere. They were visible in the distance, emerging from the object with medical equipment and a stretcher. He turned to Purple.

"You're pushing this too far."
"I'll push it as far as I have to."

He held out his hand. "Give me back her commlink."
"No." The robots around them became agitated. They crackled with energy as their weapons charged up. "I've implanted two spikes inside her body. If I die, they will instantly splinter and she will receive a critical wound that few would be able to remedy. In roughly ten minutes, if they are not removed, they will pass from my control and you will have the same result. So you have very little time to dwell on this."

The man gestured and the robots backed away, turning and leaping back towards the ship. He fished around in a compartment in the chest plate of the armor, pulling out a long thin card.

"Here. You take this--it has all the information you need. And give me back her commlink." Purple looked to Supercreep for affirmation and he nodded. She stepped forward and handed him the components, taking the card in exchange. The remaining robots loaded Murakami on to the stretcher and connected her to life support equipment before the drones flew her away to the sphere.

The man turned to leave and stopped for a moment.

"I guess we'll be in touch soon."
"Indeed."

He leapt towards the sphere, clearing the distance in two jumps before he disappeared inside and the surface of the thing closed back up, all the robotic fragments back in place.

Purple clapped her hands. "Ok, now you all follow me closely. Protect yourselves at all costs. Do not stop for anyone or anything. Now we really do have to get the hell out of here."
"Where are we going?"
"Off the map."

The Long Arm of the Supercreep


"Do you see this people!" Arbitor Clarke stood in the hallway waving a handfull of papers. "Assassination orders for all five! I want them all dead...and I want the ashes on my desk by this evening or there's going to be hell to pay. I don't care how, you use any council freak carnie hero wannabee...ANYTHING! You get them all out there gunning for them. Just stay clear of Berkely's snipers. And someone get Van Vogt on the phone, he's not answering my calls. Send agents to knock on his god damned front door if you have to."

He entered his office, slamming the door and tossing the papers on his desk. He poured himself a stiff drink then sat down in front of the media terminal in the corner of the room.

"Show me the footage from the overhead security camera taken during the autopsy of Purple Twilight."
[loading footage]

Clarke rocked back in his chair. The grainy video began to flicker on the screen. He gulped down the drink and set the glass on the desk.

"GOD DAMN IT. DAMN IT! Computer verify that this is the correct footage."
[footage verified]

"What the HELL is going on here?" The screen showed Agent Bloch and two assistants standing around an operating table. Some sort of rectangular diagram lay on the table where Purple's body should have been. Occasionally the men seemed to poke at it with metal implements. A red light flickered periodically as they did so. Clarke activated his communicator.

"Get me Agent Bloch and his men here immediately! And I mean now!"
"Yes sir!"
"Computer play the audio record of the room that corresponds to this footage."
[loading audio]

The men's voices suddenly played along with the image.

"It says take out the spare ribs for $100. Here goes!"
"BZZT!"
"Hahaha. You call yourself a surgeon? It's his turn now, pass him a card."
"Boy I hope I get a chance to take out the funny bone..."

LaLa Land


Hypercube slumped against the side of the tunnel, blue particles leaking out of the wounds at the side of his neck and shoulder.

"Cubie! Are you ok?" Mere pressed her hands against his neck, trying to stanch the flow on either side.
"I'll be alright Mere. I'd probably be dead if I was a normal person, but there are some upsides to having your body spread out across multiple dimensions."
"I'm so sorry. I saw him on that building but he fired before I could snipe him."
"Yeah, I saw him too. A longbow sniper....things are pretty bad now..."

Purple opened a control panel on the wall, flipping the row of switches that ran across the top. Large steel panels slammed into place behind them. She hit a red button and there was the sound of an explosion, the ground shaking as a column of stone collapsed through the ceiling behind them, further blocking the way. Mr. Magic shrugged.

"I guess we won't be going back out that way."
"That will buy us enough time to get clear. We're almost there."

Purple beckoned and they followed her down the passage, which lead to a fork, the path diverging in four different directions. She led them down the one on the far right. It curved to the left and connected with the next passage. Purple turned left and lead them back to the fork. She then returned to the opening on the far right.

"Purple we just came down this way."
"Oh really?" She looked around at the walls. "I must've missed the entrance. Let's go."

She entered the corridor again, once more curving to the left and connecting the other passage.
"See Purple? We just came this way."
"We did? Oh silly me...turn around. Go back."

Mr. Magic helped Hypercube turn around in the narrow confines of the passage and they began filing back the way they had come.

"What the hell?" The passage no longer curved back to the fork. It went straight, the concrete surface of the shaft giving way to an older looking, brick lined shaft. It led straight for about two hundred feet then entered an octagonal chamber. Mere giggled and bounced up and down.

"How did we do that?"
"There are portals concealed in the passage. Everything's blended to appear seemless, so that you don't realize you've been shifted. If you don't follow the correct sequence, you just end up going in a loop." Purple walked to the center of the room and pointed towards the far wall. There was a square plane of muted grey light floating in the air. It shifted very slightly, like smoke compressed behind a window. She motioned for them to come closer.

"This is what we came here for." Mr. Magic walked around the edges of the shape.
"What is it?"
"It's a hole in the map. What you see through this opening is what lies beyond the war walls. This is where we're going to escape." Hypercube paled in disbelief.
"The war walls are just force fields to protect us. The countryside is beyond."
"Saddly no."

Mere walked up and shoved her arm through the opening. It did not emerge from the other side. Supercreep went to the corner of the room and retrieved a pile of belts, each with a blinking light attached at the buckle. Purple fastened one around her waist.

"Everyone take one. These are beacons that will help you stay with me. Otherwise you will very quickly become disoriented." The others also donned the belts. Purple adjusted a control on hers and the flashing lights all began to synch as one. She stepped forward, half of her body disappearing into the grey before she turned back to smile at them.

"Shall we?"


They were floating in a void, a grey mist that lacked any scale or reference. It was immense, glowing far in the distance one moment, then pressing in close to the body like steam in the next. The more their eyes attempted to discern it, the more it changed, strange dark forms shifting in the corners. Hypercube stretched out his arms, pressing out against a simultaneous feeling of claustrophobia and vertigo.

"Purple! Help I feel.." Purple took his arm and steadied him.
"Everyone look at me! Look at my feet." Beneath her heels a path of irregular stones was forming out of the mist. It continued past her, leading off into the haze. "Focus on the path. Keep your eyes on it and follow me. It will be alright."

Mere stamped her boot on the surface of the stone.
"It's hard, like real stone."
"It is real stone..for now. Do you see that bird flying by?" There was an odd squeeking noise over their heads. They glanced up to see a yellow rubber duckie, floating there above their heads, holding itself aloft by the flapping of eagle wings grafted to its sides.
"Hahahaha!"
"That's real too Mere, as long as I continue to concentrate on it. Let's keep going." The bird faded from view and they continued along the path.

"This is insane. Where are we..what is this place?"
"The end of the world. It's pretty much whatever you will it to be. As long as you can keep your head together."

Haven


The path led to a short picket fence circling a large Victorian house floating there in the void. The ornate exterior had a wrap-around porch with a terrace above on the second floor. There was a tower to the left hand side, three arched stained glass windows in the center beneath the elaborate scrolling trim bordering the peaked roof above. The posts of the stairway had square columns with inset paneling that were matched by the supports on the porch. Beneath, the criss-cross lattice work was obscured by neatly trimmed hedges and strands of ivy. Everything was bright and clean, the radiant gold and green paint unmarred by age and deterioration. The home looked new despite its architecture.

Purple opened the gate and motioned for them to enter, closing it again once they were all inside. From the interior, the house was situated on a hill, a winding street running down alongside it. Other homes were nestled in a row further down and over the tops of the trees opposite, one could see a river flowing in the distance.

"It's an illusion. The fence actually generates this imagery, it helps people stay here without anxiety. As long as you stay inside the perimeter, you won't need to worry about getting lost in oblivion."

Birds could be heard chirping in a tree near the rear of the house. A small brown dog ran around the side, barking at them frantically for a moment before fading out of view. It reappeared a moment later running back the way it had come. Mr. Magic stared up at the wood trim that curved beneath the awning of the porch.

"Is this your house Purple?"
"Sort of. I live here sometimes and I maintain it. I don't know who actually owns it. I found it out here."

Mere reached down and picked up a knit green handbag that was laying on the pathway to the front steps. "Is this your bag Purple?"
"No a girl was staying here last year. She forgot some of her things here."
"People actually come out here to stay with you? Like...ordinary people?" Hypercube took the bag, levitating a credit card and stick of lip balm from within.
"When necessary. Not really ordinary people. People with problems...schizophrenics generally. Sometimes criminals."

She made her way up the front steps, pausing for a moment at the front door.

"I know you all have questions about this place and what's happening. I will try to answer them soon but first I want to see to Cube's wound, and I also need to analyze the data on that card. So please, go in..feel free to look around. There's food, books, television, help yourself to anything you find inside. Just to warn you though, there are ghosts in this place. Not actual spirits, more like...echoes of things that happened here. Afterimages of the personalities of people who stayed here. Nothing dangerous, not anything to be alarmed by...but it makes some people uncomfortable."

She pushed the door open and they filed in.


The pantry was full odd medical devices and rows of steel containers that housed various unsavory chemicals.
"Whoa.." Purple pulled the air syringe away from his neck.
"Feel a bit woozy."
"Yeah." He resisted the urge to rub the spot. She lifted a large medicated compress over the area and pressed his hand against it.
"Hold that in place. We don't have an emp on site, so the best I can do for you is a tissue regeneration syrum engineered from synthetic poisons. Very effective but a little bit of shock to the system. I want you to go upstairs through the central staircase and get some rest in one of the second floor bedrooms. I'll be up as soon as I find a bandage large enough to fit you."
"Sounds like a plan." He rose to his feet and leaned in the doorway a moment gathering his balance.
"Ok?"
"Yup, yup just fine."


There were pictures along the stairway. A rich, turn of the century family. Images of people out west making their fortunes in the mining business. Elegant New Years Eve balls. Antique imagery that was, in a way, more strange and unworldly than the robots and magic and superpowered interactions he'd come to take for granted. As he reached the second floor landing something strange caught his eye. Mounted over a doorway was an odd sculpture that appeared to be of some sort of dark crystal or stone. It had a bean shaped mass that sprouted a thick trunk of tendril-like forms that initially clumped together then spread out in different trajectories. His first impression was a jellyfish diving, or some kind of seed erupting with roots. Then he grunted and took a step back as he figured out what it really was: a single lung, with pathways of the respiratory and circulatory systems diverging away from it.

"Gross isn't it?" There was a man standing in the hallway. Barefoot in blue jeans and a black ACDC t-shirt. He was fit but scruffy looking. Unkempt muddy blond hair. Facial stubble.
"Umm..yeah, it's pretty grotesque."
"I keep telling her to take that thing down, but she won't. I guess the dude killed the girl that used to stay here. One of those butcher guys..the Vaz? Damn shame, she was a nice kid. Real nice voice..I can still hear her singing upstairs sometimes."

Hypercube scratched his head with his free hand. "Oh that's too bad."
"Hey never mind man, how bout a beer? I got some good stuff in my room. Not that garbage Purple brought back. Cmon."
"Oh..uh..yeah. That sounds good."

The man passed through the open doorway down the hall on the left. Hypercube ducked beneath the chandelier in the hall and followed after him.

"Hello?"

The room was empty. There was a bed in the center and a nightstand to the side. The walls were covered with NASCAR posters and Red Wings jerseys. Hypercube went to the balcony and searched through the windows, but it was empty and the doorway was locked shut. A small bathroom to the right was empty. The bare white tile showing no signs of recent use. He went back to the bed and examined a large, unmarked cardboard box that was placed in the center. He opened it and pulled out a chared fireman's helmet. Beneath the helmet was a burned coat and other pieces of a man's wardrobe. He began to place the items back in the box, starting a bit as Purple appeared in the doorway. She glanced around the room.

"Is this where you wanted to rest?"
"I..followed someone in here. He offered me a beer and ..then he was gone." She shrugged.
"Just a vision."

Hypercube fumbled with the box. "This is his stuff...his room.."
"Yes. My boyfriend. That's some stuff he had left here."
"Aren't you afraid that they'll do something to him? I mean they were holding him hostage so that you would cooperate...now they're openly trying to kill all of us."

She walked forward and ran her fingers along the edges of the box. "No. I'm not afraid. He's already dead."
"What? Then why..."
"He died before this all really got started. They didn't think I knew, so they held it over my head to coerce me. I was just playing along."
"What happened?"

She went to the window and looked out towards the illusory river. "I wasn't careful. I didn't keep him safe. When I started tampering with their records...I changed the details of my file several times to draw their attention. But they had his information in my file as well...that never occured to me. So at some point he was reclassified as a schizo...and shipped out with a group of people to be used as collateral damage. Their blood as oil to keep the wheels of the machine rolling smoothly."

"Who?" She looked at him.
"The same people that shot you. Longbow...Arachnos...the same. The powers that be." Hypercube stammered.
"B-but why? Why would they want to kill schizophrenics..innocent people..."

Purple's eyes widened. A strange smile crept over her face as she leaned forward, shoving the box off of the bed and sending it crashing to the floor. She crawled up on the matress, shoulders and hips swaying as moved towards him on all fours.

"Let me tell you a little story."

He moved away reflexively as she got near, a loud thud as his back hit the wall. She slid up as she reached the edge, pressing her chest and arms up against him as she leaned across the gap. He tensed as her full figure slid up across his body, as she circled her arms around his massive neck bringing her face in close to his ear. She whispered as she stroked the side of his face with her hand.

"I brought a crazy girl here once. They were going to kill her, so I hid her away in this house." She pressed her hips into him, holding him closer. "After a couple days she started talking to the refridgerator, and you know what...."

"What?" His massive hands found her hips as he awkwardly moved to hold on to her. An impotent and conflicted motion to control her movement as he felt the heat of her skin against his. Purple tugged him close, her lips right in his ear as she ran her fingertips over the nape of his neck.

"It started talking back." He felt the wetness of her mouth on his skin. Hypercube flinched and rolled his shoulders forward as he pushed her away with a stiff jerk of his hands. Purple fell back to the bed, laughing and stretching out, her hands behind her head.

"That refridgerator went on a rampage. It destroyed an antique chair and a piano, and smashed three windows on the first floor, before I was able to get rid of it." She turned on her side, still watching him. "Now imagine a city with thousands of angry refridgerators. All popping up for no reason other than someone believing in it. Thousands of little lies, making no sense, calling attention to the BIG LIE. THEY can't have that. THEY won't.

She sank her head on the pillow and closed her eyes.
"Go get some rest. I left a strap in the hallway on the end table. It should serve to hold that compress in place." He turned to leave and made it to the door before pausing. He looked back and stared at her, unable to bring himself to go.

"Why did you.."
"I'm sorry. I was bad. I'm vindictive and lonely. Please go."

He started to say something, then turned and left. Purple laid there still for several minutes then flipped over on her belly, reaching over the side of the bed and fishing for the box. She found it and placed it back where it had been at the center, closing the flaps at the top. She stood there at the side staring at it, running her fingers over the edges and looking around the room. She cleared her throat.

"I think this is my last chance for a rerun. Can you show yourself darling? Please?"
Eventually the silence was deafening and she entered back into the hall, closing the door behind her.

Reality Television


Mere sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the wide oak cabinet. She slid open the panels and exposed the large picture tube and the control panel to the right: a knob and two large dials near the top with a few smaller dials down below.

"Wow. I've never seen one with dials." Mr. Magic peered over the edge of his Popular Mechanics from the sofa at the side of the room.

"Yeah that's an old one for sure. Pull that knob up top out to turn it on."
"Oooooh." Mere pulled the knob out and grey static spread over the screen. She sat back, waiting for a change.
"There's nothing on that channel Mere, try another one."
"Oh right.." She turned the top knob, cycling through a few channels, but the result was the same. "There's nothing on..."
"Look for the antenna. It should be in the back...a loop of wire. We used to call them rabbit ears back in the day. Sometimes you have to move them around to get a good picture."

Mere got up and walked around the back of the cabinet, looking for an opening. The top and back were sealed. She returned to the front and slid her hand around the television, feeling for the antenna in the back.

"I can't find it.."
"Well, then maybe that's why it doesn't work.." He went back to reading his articles.
"Awwww..." She flipped threw more channels, clicking the dial methodically. "Hey! There's something on channel 13!"

The picture looked down on a large pile of ceramic roofing tiles spilled on the ground. There was no particular order to their placement, some flipped over and damaged as if from being thrown. The view shifted up slightly to reveal a slack jawed man in a red uniform standing at the edge of the pile, his arms hanging listlessly. Another worker, dressed in blue, shuffled into view, swaying slightly and staring blankly at the pile. The view zoomed in slightly and the pallid, dessicated look of their faces and hands left no doubt that they were zombies.

Another man came into view, powerfully built with elaborate tattoes snaking their way up his arms from the wrists to shoulders. His pale skin contrasted severely with his black, slicked back hair and dark sunglasses. He wore all black--tshirt, jeans, and boots. He was yelling at the zombies, pointing at the pile of tiles and slapping his open palm against his forehead. The zombies turned to face him, staring vacantly. He pointed to the pile of tiles and then gestured towards an orderly stack that could be seen in the background.

The zombie in red reached down and took a single tile, then began to shamble off to the stack in the background. The man yelled again, taking the tile out of its hand and waving it. He gestured with his arms, bending them as if cradling a log and the zombie began limply mimicking him. He stopped and looked around on the ground, picking up a wooden slat and placing it between the red zombie's arms. He positioned them to cradle the slat properly then pulled the corpse in blue forward, pointing to the pile on the ground and then the slat in the first zombie's possession. The second zombie began stacking tiles on the slat. The man nodded and then gestured again to the stack in the distance before walking off screen. He could be seen briefly conversing with someone out of the camera view before leaving the picture.

Mere covered her mouth in anticipation of impending disaster as she watched the scene. The second zombie kept stacking tiles. More and more tiles until the stack began to rise above the first zombie's head. It began to sway, it's legs starting to
buckle from the weight. The sinews of it's emaciated arms stood out in relief as it labored to support the load. It's arms began to dip, more and more. Just as it seemed the creature was going to lose its grip completely, a silver forklift rolled into view. The driver, another zombie, dropped an entire of pallet of red clay tiles on top of the first zombie, burying him in an avalanche of roofing supplies. He was completely submerged in the tiles except for one red pantleg, the foot twitching violently.

"HAHAHAHAHA!"

The man in black ran to view, yanking the third zombie off of the forklift. He was cursing, pointing at the mess of tiles and slapping their heads. As he pushed them around, a column of darkness entered from the right. As it approached him, it's silhouette sharpened, becoming more defined as that of a curvy dancing woman in an oversized sombrero. She stamped her heels on the tiles, ending the dance, and then reached out and presented a taco to the man in black.

"What are you watching Mere?"
"Channel 13! I love channel 13!" Purple smiled and looked at the screen.
"Everything I learned about life, I learned from channel 13." Mere got up and studied Purple. She was dressed in a long, black satin evening gown. An ornate diamond necklace sparkled around her neck. She had matching earrings and similarly lavish bracelet around her right wrist. She struggled to work a brush though her tresses. She turned sections with the brush and heated them with a portable hair dryer to add softness and wave to her normally very straight hair.

"Why are you so dolled up Purple?"
"I need to make the call soon. I have to do whatever I can to make that communication...go over well." Mr. Magic looked up from his magazine.
"Who are you going to call Purple? The man from the cemetery?"
"Yes. He has the information I need...we need. We need his help to get where we need to go."
"And where is that exactly?"
"Mere please turn the dial to zero please."

Mere turned the dial and moved back out of the way. The screen showed a view from a handheld digital camera. Three college age Japanese girls huddled in front of a large department store at a busy intersection in Tokyo. They were smiling and posing for the camera when suddenly there was a blinding flash of light offscreen to the right. The camera spun and pointed at an explosion of energy that spread out from the initial flash, everything turning to grey mist as the wave passed over it.

"Nuclear strike?"
"No. Watch."

The camera spun back the other way. Similar flashes were happening in the distance on the other side. Yet the street where the girls stood was bizzarely unaffected. The sidewalk stretched away for several blocks. The building facades unchanged, the sky overhead clear and blue...even as the other side of the street became a grey formless miasma. The camera suddenly dropped, a dizzying view of feet and legs as panicked people rushed for shelter inside the department store. The video ended and the picture turned to static.

Purple waved her hand towards the window. "You've seen the outside yourselves."

Mr. Magic leaned forward on the sofa. "What was that flash?. What happened?"
"I'm not absolutely sure what it is. I've heard it described different ways. But there's a general concensus that...it's divine in nature. I've heard some refer to it as the hand of god"

Mere turned off the televison and stood up."Are we dead? Is this heaven?" She waved her hands over here head. "Where's my halo? Is it..." Her eyes grew wide. "OH MY GOD...AM I A BAD GIRL? IS THIS HELL?"

"No Mere calm down. We aren't dead."
"Explain this to me. How could I live in the city, doing my show for years, then spending years fighting crime in the streets...and not be aware of any of this?"
"That flash...that power. It's the backbone of reality in this world and others. The backbone has become dislocated, but it's still present. Some of it exists in all sentient beings, that's why our thoughts and perceptions can change things. That's why some develop super powers."
"But until you brought us here, there was never any of this weirdness. No grey void...no objects blinking in and out of existence."
"Because a group of men located the source of the power and contained it. They channeled it and used it to establish a narrative people would accept. Something that would make sense of invulnerable science teachers and big blue men. And crazy little girls that threw lightning around like Zeus with pms."

Purple set the brush and hair dryer on top of a cabinet next to her. She held her hands up in front of her face and slowly blew inbetween her outstretched palms. The water vapor began to swirl and coalesce into a semicircle with glittering facets of ice and crystaline branches, a tiara that she lifted and placed on top of Mere's head.

"They turned the world into a comic book."

A Fair Shake


They gathered around the terrace in front of the communication device, its various particle emmiters invoking a shimmering screen of energy above the control console. Purple made some last minute adjustments and turned to look back at the others.

"You look nervous dear.."
"Yes. A bit." She glanced quickly at each of their faces then turned back and put her hand on the activation button. "Making the call..."

The view switched to a room. Dimly lit and mundane with shelves of books on the opposite wall. There was a long pause. Then Van Vogt's body came into view blocking the screen. He sat down at his end, his head and shoulders becoming visible on the monitor. He was scruffy and haggard in a worn grey sweater. He took a long drag on his cigarette as he took stock of everyone in the group, squinting as he looked them over. Hypercube grunted at the contrast with the armored figure they'd witnessed in the cemetery. Van Vogt flicked ash from his cigarette then leaned back, focusing on Purple.

"You look good.."
"Thank you."
"From what I can see," he lifted a case file into view, "you don't usually look that glam. Are you gonna try to sweet talk me?"
"If I can."
"I see." He took another long drag and ground the cigarette out in an ashtray offscreen. "Well miss, you've caused quite a stir. What are you looking to accomplish by it?"
"I needed to find you. I need your help."
"So this plot was all to draw me in, eh?" He rubbed the palm of his hand against his eye. "Those idiots. I knew I should've stayed out..." He fished around his desk for another cigarette and his lighter. "So what do you want ME for?"

Purple mulled over her words for a moment and then sighed and put it out there. "I need you to give me the coordinates to enter the chalk room."

"OH..is that all.." He lit the cigarette and took a quick puff. "THAT's all you need me for. NO PROBLEM!" The hand that held the cigarette gestured towards the others. "Do they know what it is? DO YOU GUYS know what the chalk room is?"

The others mumbled and acknowledged their ignorance in no particular order. Purple shook her head. "No. They don't know."

"Well...you see a while back these guys I know..nerdy science types. They found god. Or whatever the hell it is." The cigarette dangled from his lips as he formed L shaped brackets with his thumbs and index fingers, making the shape of a rectangle. "They got it in this black box...looks like a chalkboard cause images and writing appears on the surface when you look at it, all in white. And the thing is kept in this big white room."

Hypercube raised his hands. "Why? I don't undertand. What are they doing with it?"

"Think of it as a big power station. They use it to shape reality. It takes electricity to your house. It makes water flow...grass grow..the sun shine. Everything. It's very important. And very dangerous." He took the cigarette out of his mouth, folding his arms over his chest and staring intently at Purple. "Now...I'm intrigued...why on earth would I get you access to that room? You of all people....not exactly a team player my dear."

Purple leaned forward a bit meeting his gaze. "Because I don't think you're happy." He laughed.
"Well you got that right...and?"
"I think you never intended to establish a totalitarian state. That's why you bear such a heavy burden. You never intended for people to be fed lies, to be controlled and manipulated." She glanced briefly sidelong at the others. "And assassinated when they got out of line."

He took another long drag. "Yeah that's correct. I didn't want this. Any of it. But what's the alternative? Have people float around in oblivion? Would you prefer everything splinter and fade out of existence?"
"I would prefer the mentally ill not be sacrificed for the safety of the society. I would prefer that children didn't end up gutted in the streets to support this fantasy."

Van Vogt rubbed his eyes wearily with his free hand. "But what makes you think you can do anything? Even if you got there...some people have been disintegrated by just coming into proximity. You could all die needlessly. And if that didn't happen, what are you going to do? What's your solution?"

Purple threw up her hands. "I don't know what to tell you. I don't know what will happen, but it calls to me. I feel it. I feel that there's something good that can be done. Hasn't it ever called to you?"

"Yes...it has. In fact, there's something I have to show you.." He reached for something off screen. There was a long pause where the grey sweater filled the view. He moved back a bit, the right side of his body shaking, as if he were tugging on something. He leaned down a bit, the side of his face..his right eye large on the scanner. He lifted an object into view--a glowing metal gauntlet, intricate wiring and glowing symbols embossed on its surface. "This."

Suddenly the glove shot forward and penetrated through the image plane, seizing Purple by the throat. She was pulled forward as Van Vogt crouched on his desk, watching the others, the rest of his body on the other side of the image. Purple's body quivered, her muscles taut with paralysis. He lips were rolled back in a pained grimace, teeth exposed, the pupils of her eyes rolled back into her head and the skin of her face turning a darker hue. Before the others could react, Mere had shot forward and held Van Vogt by the wrist and Purple by the shoulder.

"BACK OFF! NOW OR SHE DIES!" Mere released him and backed away growling, her eyes glowing with energy. He glared at each of them in turn. "Why are you people doing this? Are you under her control?"

"What?" Van Vogt looked at Hypercube.
"Kid, why the hell are you doing this? You're only 23 years old. You've got you're whole life ahead of you." Hypercube tapped on his own chest.
"What kind of life is this? I never wanted this! I want to see this thing for myself. I want to know why it made me this way...I don't want to be like this."

Mr. Magic stepped forward, leaning down and placing his hand on Purple's shoulder. "Let the girl go! She isn't forcing us to do anything. We all have the right to know the truth. Who do you think you are keeping it from people?"
"And you would follow a demon there? A criminal and a murderer?"
"Yes! Because she's the only one that's told the truth! I've been living a lie. I thought I was a hero fighting against evil. But it's all been a sham. How do you expect me to go back to that?"

Van Vogt's gaze darted to a motion in the corner. Supercreep removed a mask, exposing another that had the nazi swastika printed in bold black lines. He clicked his heels and thrust his hand forward in salute. Van Vogt grunted and released Purple, withdrawing back through the screen. She heaved and gasped for air, her body shaking. Supercreep rushed forward and held her as she slumped off the side of the chair. He scooped her up and carried her away, brushing past the others as he took her back into the house. On screen, Van Vogt was pouring himself a shot.

"Alright. Here's the deal. I can't just turn over that information. Right or wrong, I've got a responsibility to protect this city. But I'm gonna give you guys a couple options." He downed the whiskey. "One is you can turn yourselves over to me. I will get you asylum, and maybe we can work out some arrangement to help you all with your problems." He looked at Hypercube. "Who knows..there might be some way to turn you back to a normal person, son." Hypercube shifted awkwardly and glanced at Mere.

"The other option is this: I have an old funhouse in Dark Astoria. That's where I am right now. I have loaded this place up with death traps designed specifically with each of you in mind. If you can get past the traps, then I will give her what she wants without turning you over to the authorities. In the meantime I will keep everyone else off your backs. So that's the best I can do--a fair fight. You guys against me." He poured another shot. "But I'm really hoping you go with the first option. You enter into that place and some, if not all of you, will be killed." He leaned forward. "When the girl recovers, you guys make up your minds and then call me with your decision." The screen went blank.