*HF* Full Circle
By Mufasa
FULL CIRCLE
Prologue: A somewhat unexpected visit
Somewhere atop a mountain
He was a strange man with many allies, but few friends. That’s the way it has been for hundreds of years. One of the most painful things he has learned during his time is that camaraderie and friendship are two different concepts. One does not necessarily mean the other. Just recently, someone he assumed was a close friend, because of a long-standing alliance, proved herself to be the most cruel backstabber. In retrospect, he should not have been surprised. After all, he knew the type of person she was beforehand. He didn’t know why, but knowing the type of person she was AND falling into her trap was even a worse feeling than if he had just been blindsided. Like the tale of the fox and the scorpion…
The Stranger looked out his window at the fierce blizzard howling outside. To the untrained eye, it very easily obscured anything in its midst. It suited his personality in that few people had the experience or the training to know him or know what is going on inside of him. That was the way it had to be… or as he has said continually, to trick the trickster you have to be on your toes. Yep… Here he is…
The Stranger’s eyes flashed as his front door seemed to open of its own free will. A tall figure covered in black stepped through the door, pulling a thick black shroud from around his still-covered head. “Not so fast,” the Stranger said, almost laughingly. “Wipe your boots off, first. I just had the carpet cleaned. It is not very often I get guests. A cup of hot chocolate?”
The cloaked figure did as requested and stepped off the doormat. Although his outfit had done a decent job protecting him from the cold, he still reached out with his gloved hands to take the thermos full of cocoa. Pulling his mask up only enough to clear his mouth, he savored the taste as it went down his throat. This was not the powdered instant junk. The Stranger made it with real cocoa. Mmmmmmmm…
“I have to admit,” said the Stranger. “The last couple of weeks have been hectic… just like the rest of my life… well… and your life, for that matter. Years ago, I would have never thought that this day would come.”
The dark figure stopped sipping, as if to look at the Stranger quizzically.
“Damn… You’re as bad as Khalid. Fine… fine… Okay… So when you approached me five years ago and asked me about this, I thought you had lost your fucking mind then. In a way, I underestimated you… but I understood why you did it. In fact, I took such measures myself. You know what they say about absolute power… Anyway, you could say I summoned you here to call in my favor. Do you mind?”
The figure set the thermos down, crossing his arms.
“Yes… but of course… You want to know what it is, first. Nothing much… a simple delivery.” From the pocket of his white mages robe, the Stranger withdrew an envelope with the name Sharon Stokes written across it. “You can read it, if you wish.”
The figure opened the envelope, reading the letter inside of it. Surprised, he put it back in the envelope and turned his gaze back toward the Stranger.
“Yes, I am sure. That’s my favor. A spirit warned me of Grover’s intentions to slay the White Court. The White Queen’s only chance of protecting her court is if she receives the information in that envelope. For obvious reasons, I can’t deliver the message myself. If Khalid does it, it will raise too many suspicions.”
The figure nodded, tucking the letter inside the collar of his black uniform.
“Good… Besides… Since you’re back, I’d say it is high time you made your grand ‘comeback.’ Don’t you think?” With that, the dark figure flew through the ceiling, passing through it as if he were no more than another spirit. The Stranger shook his head, watching the man disappear. “These are definitely going to be interesting times, my friend…”
End Prologue
Chapter One: The Odd Couple
It was not the typical exercise room, filled with mounds of weights and machinery. No… When Gabriel Strong first bought his apartment building, he did not need any of those things. All they did was take up room. Well… That and they weren't a challenge to his strength any longer. Well… before a few months ago, they weren't a challenge to his strength…
No, what he had done is invent a device so that the weights used the electromagnetic field of the earth as the source. That provided a level of resistance high enough to suit his needs. (He remembered to rig the floors so that they would not fall right through.) Luckily, he had the foresight to make it work on the other side of the scale… especially with the dramatic loss of strength recently.
Gabe again lifted the barbell to the arm's length above his head, taking a moment at the top to give the pecs just an extra squeeze. Slowly he brought it down, keeping his breath smooth and even. Looking at the mirror on the ceiling, he watched very carefully what the dark rippling muscles were doing as he slowly contracted and relaxed them while he went. He took every moment to observe his form. Form was everything. It wasn't about how much you grunt, or how much you can lift… It was how much you work it. How much you… SEETHE over circumstances you really can't control… with a roommate you really don't want!
“Bitchassmotherfuckingpieceofshit…runningupmymotherfuckingphonebill…actinglikeamotherfuckingslob…Ishouldgoanddissecthisdumbassalivewithmysword…grumblegrumblegrumble…”
Two hundred feet away, in the living room, another dark-skinned figure sat on the White velvet sofa in the living room, absent-mindedly doodling on a legal pad. How long has he been in here… a month? Well… it doesn't matter. He leaned back on the sofa, with a crooked smile on his face and spoke into the telephone, momentarily taking the time to move his hair from behind his back.
Although Khalid was putting on a good show, he was even less pleased than Gabe about the current living situation. Damn jackass… I'm going to fucking make your life a living hell.
“Khalid… It was nice speaking to you… for THREE hours… but I really have to get going. Lenny and I are visiting the Eiffel Tower in a few minutes. Geesh… I've never known you to speak on the phone for so long… especially an international call! Did you forget how to be a cheapskate?!”
“Well… You know… Every once in a while, Kathleen, I just gotta… splurge…” Khalid tried not to laugh. “But you are right… I suppose we have talked long enough. Nice speaking with you. Take care.”
“You too.”
With that, Khalid hung up the phone… and an evil smile grew across his face. Gabe was going to be SO sick of him… Son of a bitch… I’ll get you back when you least expect it, Gabe.
This was hell… the personal hell that had been his existence for the past two weeks. Khalid had no idea why he didn’t just pick up the phone, call Sharon, and tell her what the hell was going on. Sharon would put an end to it. Gabe would roll over and beg for Sharon. (Especially if he got to stick his nose in the crotch afterwards…) Just one phone call and his personal hell would be over. So why didn’t he do it?
Because you know fairly well that you aren’t going to wake up in some really strange places while that bracelet is on your arm…
Still, was it worth it? What kind of existence was this? Of all the embarrassing things that have ever happened to him… Of all the demeaning things he has ever been forced to do. This is the worst… This absolutely takes the cake… but that doesn’t mean he has to lie back and simply accept it.
Knowing that Gabe was occupied in his training room, Khalid took the time to investigate that damn contraption on his wrist. To everyone else, it was just a dull gold-like bracelet with an Egyptian-design on it. To Khalid, it was constantly flashing yellow and beeping, because it was attuned to the multiple frequencies of his brainwaves. Every time Khalid was more than 1000 feet away from Gabe, his entire nervous system would be riveted by a crippling electromagnetic shock. In other words, Khalid was placed on an electronic leash… He had become Gabriel’s pet battery!
“Shit… Not that I’m a technological expert, but since Gabe made the mistake of explaining how this works, I’m going to guess the corresponding bracelet on Gabe’s wrist is constantly sending a signal… and whenever the signal gets too weak, I get electroshock therapy. It’s probably safe to assume that it’s a low-level microwave frequency that also releases this thing from my wrist… as well as a low-level microwave frequency that will cause it to explode should I remove it. Perhaps the trick is to find a frequency that will interfere with it… much like striking two consecutive keys on the piano…” Khalid closely studied the device. Yeah… and he was completely guessing… It was damn likely that anything he tried would get his fucking hand blown off.
Until he figured a way to get this damn thing off, Khalid decided that he would be the worst houseguest ever. Damn it… If HE was going to be subjected to something this demeaning, he was going to make it as damn uncomfortable for his “host” as possible.
“Khalid?”
At the sound of Gabe’s voice, Khalid settled back in and leaned back into the couch with the slightest hint of a smile on his face. Nothing like having the satisfaction of knowing that once again he had succeeded in pissing off his “host” once again.
Gabriel Strong walked into the living room with a look of restraint. Outrageous bills… throwing paint balloons off the balcony… leaving his clothes around the place… Khalid was getting on his last nerve and fast. I will not gut the spike… I will not gut the spike… “Where did that stain on the carpet come from?”
“Stain on the carpet? Which one? The red one or the purple… oh wait… Now, I remember… The red one is on the COUCH, so of COURSE you mean the purple one.”
“The COUCH?!” Gabe picked up the side cushion that was lying on the armrest of the couch and saw the stain Khalid was referring to. “Did you eat that goddamn spaghetti on my couch?! Why didn’t you wash it out?!”
“I did try… but the stain just wouldn’t come out. I even boiled the water first to get it good and hot.”
“Hot water sets the stains!”
“Ooops… I didn’t know that.” Khalid said with a bare hint of obnoxiousness. “Hmmmm… That explains why the grape juice stain didn’t come out of the carpet…”
Gabe clenched his fists in frustration. Khalid made no attempt to hide that he was lying. He said it just like he said just about everything else, with an absolute deadpan expression on his face, expressing neither embarrassment nor regret. “So where did the GREEN stain come from?”
“Hmmmm… Oh… Now I remember… That’s where I accidentally spilled the avocado dip I was making for dinner tonight.”
“In the HALLway?!”
“Hey… I dropped the dip on the way. Sorry about that.”
“Get this straight, Khalid… You don’t take food – eating or otherwise – out of the kitchen!”
“Ooops… Sorry, Gabe. I didn’t mean to do that at all. Can you possibly forgive me for forgetting it yet again?”
“God damn bitch-ass mother-fucking LYING piece of shit… You’ve been saying the same damn thing for almost two weeks.”
“I have? Dang… I must have forgotten. Ooops.”
“Prick.”
“Hood.”
“Pansy.”
“Thug.”
“Slob.”
“Shrimp.”
“Pussy.”
“Lick.”
“What the fuck was THAT supposed to mean?!”
“Beats me… Take it any way you wish. I ran out of insults to throw at you.”
“Let’s get this straight… I’m just as pissed about this as you are.”
“No, you aren’t.” said Khalid as he stood up. “No… you aren’t as pissed about this as I am. If you HAD been, then you wouldn’t have pulled this shit in the first place. See… when you decided to put this damn dimestore piece of jewelry on my wrist and sentence me to life forever 1000 feet from you, you CANNOT be as pissed as I am about this. You want to make everything cool? Turn off this damn bracelet and stay the hell away from me!”
“Oh why? So you can knock on my door once again after a blackout asking what the hell is going on? So you can return home and stalk forest animals at night?”
“No… so that maybe I could enjoy peace and quiet in my OWN home out from under the thumb of a prick with a Napoleon complex!”
“Nah… you got yourself into this the moment you decided to fuck around with my life-force… the moment you decided to drag me kicking and screaming into your head! After over a year of having your goddamn shit in my head, I finally see a way to use this to my advantage… and you can BET I intend on doing it! You OWE me!”
“Hold on… It is YOU who owe ME! I cast that damn demon out of you… So don’t you TALK to me about owing you ANYTHING… least of all respect!”
“Treat it as you will, but I’m not releasing you!”
“Then, I’m going to keep on being the worst son of a bitch you’ve ever crossed!”
“Yeah… And?”
“There is no ‘and’!”
“Well… there is now!” said Gabe. At first, Khalid didn’t realize what he was getting at, but then he felt the crippling jolt surge through his system once again.
“What the fu…” Khalid managed to get out before it happened again. “You goddamn son of a…” This one was worse, actually bringing him to his knees.
“Hey… This is kind of fun…”
“Damn pri…” ZAAAAAP!!!
“I guess those psychology classes were correct about negative reinforcement after all. I could get to like this…”
Khalid rose back to his feet again, clenching his fist. “Oh no you don…” ZAAAAAAP!!!
“Now… be a GOOD spike and do what you are told… and maybe I’ll buy you some fresh dog food…”
Khalid formed a photon bolt in his hand the second the jolt wore off. “You pull another ‘spike’ joke and you’ll start seeing furniture burn!“ ZAAAAAP!!!
“Now you wouldn’t really do that, would you, SPIKE?” FWOOOOOSH!!! “MY COUCH!” screamed Gabe as the sprinklers over the couch kicked in. “My carpet!”
ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!! Khalid slowly rose to a stand after it wore off… formed a photon blade in front of the television. “You zap me again and the TV bites it!“
“You wouldn’t DARE!”
“I WOULDN’T, would I?“ said Khalid as the blade in his hand hovered closely near the wide-screen television. “Pick, Gabe… Your precious 57-inch wide-screen digital television rigged to take in channels from all around the world… or jolting me again. Which will it be?“
“Come on, K… Can’t we talk about this?”
“What’s there to talk about?“
“Because,” said Gabe as his hand started glowing with electricity. He raised it his side, pointing it in the direction of the converted practice room. “I’d hate for anything to happen to your precious Steinway… especially right after I had it tuned!”
“A whole step flat!“
“Ooops… Now, K… what will it be? The television? Or the Steinway?”
“Hold on! I’M the one making the threats, here!“
“Obviously, I’m better at it!”
“You’ve had more practice, Goon!“
“Wimp… Hold on… Isn’t that how we got here in the first place?”
“You know… You’re right. Okay… Count of three… One… two…“
“Hold on… Why do YOU get to do the count? This is MY place!”
“Because I’m the one you keep on jolting! One… two…“
“Hold on… I’m not doing shit until YOU do it.”
“Fine… We’ll count together.“ Khalid and Gabe looked at each other directly in the eyes as they counted. Slowly, they put their arms down to the side. When they reached three, they both deactivated their powers. “Whew… All right… Have to admit… that was a pretty nifty the way you called me on the piano.”
“Yeah… Just like when you threatened the television. Man… Between that television and my weapons collection, I’d be willing to kill.”
“When AREN’T you willing to kill?”
“You know what I mean!”
“I know… I know… Look, I mean what I said. I’m not going to just disappear out of my life because you need me around to access your powers! I’m a professional entertainer… I can’t make any money if I’m fucking strapped to you all the time… not to mention that it is driving me fucking batty!”
“Too late for THAT, isn’t it?” Gabe snickered. “Besides… it doesn’t look like much of a loss for you, anyway. You cancelled all of your performances until the Lincoln Center!”
“Um… Considering that in the past six months, I have nearly been possessed… AGAIN… nearly lost my grandfather and my cou… king… crashed into a tree… kidnapped twice… attacked by anything and everything… and publicly stalked… I think I’m entitled to take some time off! Considering the way I fucked up everything over in Colorado… Not to mention getting stabbed almost to death and healing the next day – I STILL don’t know the reason behind that – I just really don’t think I need to be in the public eye right now… especially with everything flying all over the fucking news.”
“I don’t see why you are going so far to hide it.”
“I’m not… It’s none of their damn business! Besides… I hardly see you running out to let everyone know that you are a mercenary wanted in hundreds of planetary systems around the galaxy… OR that you’re a fucking alien!”
“Hey! I was BORN here! They aren’t exactly going to look! I’m a citizen of the United States…”
“Well, it isn’t any of their business… and I’ll be DAMNED if I’m going to have my personal life splashed all over the television just so some yellow second-rate unemployed reporter can extend his fifteen minutes of fame! “
“Has it occurred to you yet that you are a fucking target? I’m not talking about a reporter stalking you… I’m talking about real people who want you dead.”
“Let’s see… Better make sure I don’t forget anyone… Darkheart, Harrington, the IRS, the Grammy Committee, my agent, and… oh wait… I forgot… My own cousin SuperGrover. If there is anyone else on that list, I don’t know and I don’t care.”
“Careful, K… Keep that attitude up and you’ll end up just like me.”
“Yeah right… Like that is ever going to happen.” Khalid said. “No… My career is first. I’m not chucking it out the window just because some assholes want me dead.”
“Grover’s one of…”
“You think I’m arguing with you there?” he smirked.
“Come on. You can’t honestly blame Grover for running you through.”
“Watch me… and I’ll blame him for a bunch of other things, too… but that is beside the point. I can take care of myself. I don’t need someone hovering over me every minute of the day.”
“Really,” Gabe snickered. “You could have fooled me. See, I’ve got people and entire empires that want me dead, too… but you know the difference between you and me?”
“Five months, seven inches of height, seventy pounds, five siblings, a couple feet of hair, and a better temperament?”
“Try experience… consistency… knowing exactly what I’m capable of… not being afraid to test the waters… You? Your mental state will shift modes like a blender. You are a punching bag one minute and a halfass the next. You don’t trust your instincts. Instead of taking initiative, you always wait for an opening and sucker someone. You have a half-assed approach toward your powers, staying with what is comfortable and avoiding anything else unless prodded. Unless you have to, you shy away from any and all opportunities to stretch yourself in different ways.”
Khalid and Gabe stood silently, looking each other dead in the eye. With a smirk, Khalid shook his head from side to side and finally responded. “You really didn’t like that crack on the seven inches of height, did you?”
“Pet peeve of mine, just like everything else about you. Anyway, you may as well face it… Until everything is back to normal, you’re stuck with me… and you better be prepared to pull your own weight.”
“Now THAT’S funny, Gabe…” Khalid said, with a smile. “Get this into your thick head right now. I’m not like these teenagers you bully around. I won’t be pushed around… I won’t be threatened… and I won’t snap to attention just because you start barking at me… and I don’t give a damn if you have me in a stranglehold, a gun to my head, or an extradimensional sword at my throat… and don’t think I’ll hesitate to tell you what I think of you.”
“Careful K,” Gabe sneered. “because now I’m going to enjoy watching you swallow your words. By the time I’m done with you…”
“You are going to find that I’m the same goddamn son-of-a-bitch I started out as,” Khalid said, turning away. “You’ll realize that unlike your students, I can’t be broken.”
“We’ll see about that,” Gabe said, with a snicker. “Because today is when the REAL shit begins. You’ll be a puddle of goo when I’m done with you.”
“Whatever,” Khalid said, walking away. “Can’t become much of a puddle if I’m doing paperwork…”
You THINK you are doing paperwork… “One more thing, though…” ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!! “Clean up the damn bathroom. You left your hair lying all in the shower again!”
Khalid didn’t notice the slight growl as he pulled himself off the floor. “No… That wasn’t MY hair… That was from that damn Cleopatra wig Sharon was wearing when you guys…” Abruptly the two of them stopped and stared at each other. Khalid covered his face with his hand as he walked away… “My god… I think I’m going to be sick… I am NEVER going in that shower again!”
“Damn, K… What’s wrong? Can’t get any on your own, so you have to sift through my memories to know what it is like?!” Gabe didn’t get an answer. The next thing he heard was the sound of vomiting. “NOT ON THE CARPET!!!!”
After watching Khalid slink off toward the bathroom, Gabe happened to glance toward the coffee table and noticed the legal pad Khalid was doodling on. Normally, he wouldn't be bothered anyone's stray marks, but something jumped out at him. They were written in Pharaohan. With a look of astonishment, he picked up the legal pad, glaring at it. Khalid probably didn't even know what he was writing… The Eye in the Sky watches over us all…
“What? No… He couldn’t mean…” Gabe mumbled… stealing a glance out the window as if to make sure there was no truth to those words.
End Chapter One
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Chapter Two: Hellions Compound
The room was a mess. The desk that had been traditionally in the White Queen’s office for years lay broken in half. The bookcase had been knocked over it on the ground quite some time ago. The table that had held the ferns and corn plants had been shattered, with the plants and dirt strewn around the room. Clothes hung from everywhere. A pair of gray slacks swirled around on the blade of the ceiling fan. A blouse dangled from the antique-looking computerized curtain rod. A bra and a pair of panties – or what was left of them – were scattered across the room. A pair of Hanes underwear lay burning on the overturned couch that also had a jacket.
Amidst the wreckage lay two bodies. No, not two dead bodies, as might be expected from the condition of the room, but two naked bodies, fresh from their usual 11:15 romp. “I’m glad you figured that thing out about being close in proximity to Khalid. WHEW! Last month was scary because I kept on worrying about what my powers might do…”
Gabe tenderly caressed Sharon behind her ear, pulling a strand of purple hair away from her face. “Now come on… You know that wouldn’t have stopped me! Well… the burning the briefs off might have stopped me, but not anywhere else. Well… except for my face… and my chest… can’t hurt the chest… or the stomach… This chest and this stomach have scored me many a young lady after a night of cru…”
Sharon punched him in the stomach. “Like I want to hear about that!”
“Hey! They had nothing on you! I swear! Well… except for Karen… WHOOOO!!! Now she was a HOT one! Yeah… That girl had me…”
“HEY!” said Sharon as she pushed Gabe roughly to the ground. “I told you… I don’t want to hear about that! Well… Okay… Maybe I do… provided I get to return the favor…”
“All right… Though, I was making it up… but still!”
“You already started it, so finish it out!”
“Actually, we already did that… Remember? The shower Monday night? WHEW! That was hot… It got me all hot seeing you today… I like the purple hair.”
“Someone played a joke on me and slipped Rhiannon’s blue hair dye in my shampoo, though both Impy and Jake strictly deny it. I’m considering keeping it… at least until my hair grows out some more. So… We did your fantasy. Want to hear mine?”
“Oh… I want to DO yours…”
“Here it is…” said Sharon as she leaned toward of him. By this point, it clearly looked like Sharon had Gabe pinned down to the floor across his chest. “It started out like this… just the way we are now… Then, he grabbed me by the back of the legs and stood to his feet.”
“Like this…” said Gabe as he followed her instructions.
“Yes… and then I ran my fingers through his hair like this as he started kissing me all over furiously… and growled… Yes, I just LOVED that growl…”
Gabe followed suit as he listened. His eyebrow went up. “Growl? As in like a dog?”
“Yes… Growl… but more guttural… from the chest… His hands were all over me, massaging and kneading… like the both of us were on fire…” said Sharon as she one hand across Gabe’s hair and the other down his back. “And then… Wow… the next thing he did just sent me over… I was absolutely and totally his for the rest of the night when I heard this…”
Gabe chuckled. “And then what did he do?”
“It was more what he said…” said Sharon, her voice growing husky and breathy.
“Yeah…” Gabe said, moving closer to her lips.
“He said…” Sharon leaned toward his ear, whispering as quietly as possible. “He said, ‘Sharon… Let’s hurry up and get this done before Gabe comes out of the weight room…’”
“WHAT?!” said Gabe as he dropped her heavily to the ground. “Why that Khalid… I’ll…” with a flash of light, the extradimensional sword Anubis appeared in his hand.
Her rear tender from the fall, Sharon burst out laughing at the sight. It was hilarious, in an ironically twisted way. There he was, without a stitch of clothing on his body, and the first thing he did was flash his sword and vow to gut Khalid. “Oh… That GROWL just did me wonders! WHOOO!!! Now, what are you going to do, Gabe? Run over and threaten him? You know what he’s going to say? ‘No, Gabe… I’m not into S&M or men. If you want, I can fix you up with Jason from the band… He LOVES his men dark!’ GEESH, Gabe… I was KIDDING! It was a JOKE!”
“Oh… eheheh… I knew that… Really… I did…” mumbled Gabe.
“Right… SURE you did…” said Sharon as she got up. “Though… I must admit… MMMMM… That man… that bod… and he has the perfect ass…”
“All right… All right… You made your point!” said Gabe as he grumbled. “cantbelieveimstandingherenakedinfrontofyouandallyouredoingistalkingaboutthatdamnpansyasskhalid…”
“Really, Gabe… I just wanted you to know that I appreciate what you are doing… Though I’m keeping this between you and me, I’ve worried about him sometimes… Especially after this recent… battle… I’m glad that he has someone watching his back… Though, did you have to go and put him on an electronic leash like that?”
“Come on… You know him. Did you REALLY think that he was going to willingly stay in my place?”
“Well… You COULD get him a king-size bed rather than that twin you have him sleeping on… and tune the piano!”
“Hey! How do YOU know what kind of bed he has?!”
Sharon crossed her arms as she glared at him. “Remember? We broke that bed apart on our third date!”
“Oh yeah… Forgot…” Gabe said. Good thing Khalid hasn't remembered it… “Tell you what… Provided the guy sleeps without making that god damn noise tonight, I’ll get him a decent bed first thing in the morning.”
“He’s still doing that in his sleep?” Sharon asked.
“I TOLD you what I think he’s doing in there.”
“GABE!” Sharon busted out laughing. “REALLY… I heard him on Monday. It does not sound ANYTHING like THAT. I doubt he spends all night doing it!”
“The guy’s a loser… What do you think losers do? I can’t think of any other reason he’d carry on like that all night.”
“Come on… All NIGHT though? Really, Gabe… and quit calling him a loser!”
“It’s possible. That just means he’s either really good at it… or he’s really BAD at it! Don’t know… Don’t care… I’d just wish he’d cut out all that racket.”
“I think you’re jumping to conclusions… but have you tried talking to him?”
“Yeah, we talk… I say ‘fuck off’ and he says ‘you too’ and…”
“About the noise.”
“NOOOOOO way. There are some things I just don’t want to talk about!”
“Oh, Gabe… You’re impossible!” Sharon said, giggling. “Just one more thing, though… What did Angelo say about Khalid?”
“According to the medical test, Khalid’s not a vampire. He is still very much alive and apparently healed internally… but he cannot figure out why. Other than a slightly higher than normal metabolism and losing half his bodyfat literally overnight, Khalid does not show any signs of a healing factor. Yet, you wouldn’t believe what he found in Khalid’s blood…”
“What?”
“At some point that vampire virus HAD been in his system, BUT his white blood cells killed them… and we are talking a LOT of them… VIOLENTLY. He suspects someone tried to convert him and got a surprise.”
“But who and why?” She asked.
“I don’t know. That’s another reason Khalid’s on the leash. I’m betting that somewhere, someone is going to make another move on him… and when that someone does, I’ll have him!”
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“As you said, father… They swarm over us like a pack of hyenas, hesitantly joining forces against the lion before they turn on each other.“
The King wiped his hand across the etched casing, removing the dust that had gathered over the top of the case. When the crypt was built, there were intentionally no mounts for torches. The walls, ceilings, and floors were specifically designed so that they would automatically lighten up when – and only when – Mufasa entered it… and only in Mufasa’s immediate area. Responding to the glow of his aura, the walls glowed like the sun was shining on them.
“Father, I have little time left. Nefir warned me upon my arrival that Akeem has gone to face Mjimbe alone. An unwise move. The bracelets of Simambe were designed to counteract magic – specifically Akeem’s… and for all these years I was the one who was told he was being too impulsive…“
No one understood why the King insisted on building his father’s crypt himself. Yet, with his outwardly confrontational, arrogant, and almost bestial personality, no one would dare ask him. Most of it had been a ruse perpetuated by a King willing to do anything for the safety of his kingdom, including releasing what most would consider the darkest element in his personality and reveling in it publicly.
Mufasa grabbed the handles on the tomb, twisting them slightly to slide it out of place. Ratiki’s tomb was especially sealed so that only he could open it. Taking a moment to allow the scarabs and the dust to settle, Mufasa set the cover against the wall. “I am a man of few friends, father… even those who I’ve never informed were my friends. I cannot allow Akeem to suffer what should be my fate. In the last season, I have lost two of my children in a plot orchestrated by Mjimbe and that murderous sect Anwar leads. The scope of their plan has finally come to fruition. Mjimbe wants Kemet… he wants me broken at his feet… he wants the riches… he wants it all. Anwar wants something greater than that.“
From inside his royal tunic, Mufasa withdrew a magnificent artifact with a single symbol blazed across the front. When he wiped the front of it, he could feel his power pulse in respond to it… as if there were a strange connection. “I entrust in your eternal care, Father, two things.“ Mufasa said, wrapping the artifact in a shroud. He reached inside the tomb, pulling the embalmed corpse of his father up. The scarabs scattering around his hand, Mufasa set the artifact inside. “Guard it well, Father.“ Carefully setting the corpse back in place, Mufasa restored the cover of the tomb. From a pouch, he pulled out one more object, a strange blade he gripped in the middle with two sharp blades. With a squeeze of his hand, it clicked, this time resembling a sharply curved crucifix with four flat hooked blades on each end. “Old friend,” he said, looking at the seemingly alien weapon. “This fanblade was forged especially for you, attuned to your power. Although I can touch it, only you can realize its uses. I had intended to present it to you, but I never got the opportunity. Now, I will never. It awaits you, now, a seal across my father’s crypt.“ Taking a breath, he slapped the weapon furiously across the dent in the tomb cover specifically designed for it. The moment it struck, the entire room flashed with a brilliant white light and dulled back down. Mufasa brushed his hand across the weapon across his father’s tomb. “I say farewell now, father… For I know that by this eve, the kingdom of Kemet and I will both fade into history.“ With a flash of light, Mufasa was gone… and the tomb once more settled into darkness.
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Rhiannon LeBeau did not know what to think of the man following her. She knew he was there, but she did not turn her head to look. No… That would be a dead giveaway. So, she just kept walking… looking for an empty alley. There, she would confront whoever was tailing her.
These days, she never knew about people. They were just drawn to her. In the past week, she had to turn down 10 dates, 4 marriage proposals, and 3 propositions. Was it because of her stunning looks? Her long, luxurious blonde hair… Her slender athletic build… Her glowing green eyes? Probably not. Nope… It did not do any wonders for her self-esteem, but it did not take a genius to know why she was the subject of so much attention. Pheromones. Human pheromones, somewhat like what’s-his-name over at the BHC had. People were just drawn to her… unnaturally so. Those who she sees every day have grown more than used to it by now, but total strangers… strangers like this person that was following her…
Sliding into an alleyway, she reached inside her brown trenchcoat, removing her bo from the chest pocket. Just because she suddenly because Miss Teen Heartthrob does not mean that she forgot all of her training. Be prepared for those who are after her for something else, too. Outburst has enemies, out there… especially since bringing the Assassin’s Guild to its knees.
Her hand dashed out, jerking the man off his feet. In one fluid movement, she had his back against the wall and the bo precariously pressing against his neck. “All right, I saw you following me! You better tell me…” She allowed her voice to trail off as she realized that the man was injured… BADLY injured… deep gouges on his face… third degree burns on his arms… a black eye… and that she also recognized him. “Jean-Paul?!”
“Rhiannon…” He coughed out. “Tante Mattie… She send me… to find you… to tell you… the good news…”
“Right… well... in a moment. Wolfie just got me these shoes and you’re not bleeding on them! Who shoved you through a meat-grinder?” Rhiannon said, leading him toward the pay phone. “I’m callin’ the ambulance…”
“Remy alive, Cherie…”
“You’re hallucinating… Sit down.”
Jean-Paul dropped to his knees, still sweating and panting. “He alive… and… in… trouble…” With that, he fell face-forward, his forehead landing on Rhiannon’s new tennis shoes.
Rhiannon screamed into the phone. “9-1-1! SEND SOMEONE HERE! RIGHT NOW!!!” Dropping the receiver, she went to her knees, shaking Jean-Paul. “Wake up… Come on… Stay with me… WAKE UP! Jean-Paul!!!” She said, her eyes watering. She reached down, feeling his neck. Gone… he was gone… “Merci, Jean-Paul… Merci…”
Then, she noticed something in his back. An arrow. Right between the shoulderblades. The trajectory to make that angle meant that the source was on the ground. Just before she got up, she checked the design on the arrow… red and blue striped feathers… She found herself saying. “They’re here.”
End Chapter Two
Chapter Three: Messages
Paperwork. Paperwork. Paperwork. Nothing like the JOYS of constantly filling out paperwork. Requisition forms… Stamp. Field trip requests. Stamp. Bills. Stamp. Impy’s form for yellow winter spandex for the Impossible Cow udders. Denied box. Nothing like mindless paperwork to keep his mind occupied from the unanswered questions and traumas of daily life.
Was that what Kane was thinking when Khalid received the dubious honor of acting as sole administrator while the White Bishop and Knight went to go “Grover hunting”? No… Not by any means. As much as Khalid would like to think the man saw an opportunity to make his life hell and took it, he couldn’t convince himself that Kane’s attention was NOT centered on Grover… the same Grover that right now he wanted to bitch slap… the SAME Grover that he was bonded to… the SAME Grover that was his fucking cousin… the SAME Grover that nearly killed him.
They reacted with outright fury when Khalid told them what happened… that this was a Grover NOT affected by a soul devourer or some goddamn metal. No… Khalid had not failed in what he was supposed to do. The second he made contact DID kill the soul devourer. Khalid felt it die, along with the other soul devourers. No, Grover was not mysteriously overwhelmed by this metal he was bonded to.
Grover had his faculties. He KNEW what he was doing. He made a conscious choice to do it. Khalid sure as hell did not imagine Grover laughing his ass off as Khalid’s spinal cord was severed. He did not imagine Grover taunting him as he lay bleeding to death. He also did not imagine his aunt’s spirit at his side. He imagined none of it at all. Cyclops and Kane would LIKE for him to have imagined it… they would LIKE for him to admit his incumbent insanity… they would LOVE to write him off…
With a demonic roar, Khalid upended the desk with a fluid movement of his arms. Next he kicked the desk through the center, snapping it in half. Papers and wood scattered across the room as he launched into his tirade. Two swift movements and the bookshelf came down. Next, a photon paw shattered the office window directly behind him.
He stopped himself at that point, sitting down on the floor. At this point, he was not sure what bothered him more. Was he mad at them or was he mad at himself? They questioned his mental state, particularly after this close call… but the inevitable question was were they right? Kane made the argument ever since Khalid joined… was Kane right? Right about everything? Right about Khalid imagining what happened… right about him imagining the ghosts… right about him imagining what seemed to be more of a sensory development?
“The mistake you make is assuming that they know more than you do…” Rune said, pushing the door open. With a wave of the hand, a gust of wind burst through the room, setting everything back the way it was, except – noticeably – Khalid who was still sitting on the floor against the wall. “Yeah, I know I’m late for my meeting with you, but I figured I would wait until things stopped flying around.”
“Thanks for the consideration,” Khalid said, still not having looked up in his direction at the blue-haired White Mage. “I’m not good company today.”
“Something my father once told me was that I should not assume that someone else knows more about what is happening inside my head than I do.”
“No offense, but isn’t your father an evil megalomaniac plotting world domination?”
“Yeah… but that doesn’t mean he has nothing worthy to say. You are taking too much of what Casey and Feonix are saying at face value. Grover’s like a big brother to them. When you told them what happened, they were looking for any way they could to invalidate it… and that meant for them to attack your mental state.” Rune sat down in the guest chair, raising his feet on Khalid’s repaired desk. If Khalid had looked up, he might have seen too white Asics and a white pair of jeans poking out the end of Rune’s white robe. Rune, despite his occasionally haughty demeanor, was one to dress for comfort. The robe was a formality he did without on those days it became an annoyance. “Now, I can’t say that I know you fairly well… I don’t… but that doesn’t mean I can’t see what is going on.”
“At least that’s one of us…”
“Yeah you do… You’re just pretending you don’t. The more connected you get with your power, the more it is waking up inside of you. It happens to every mage/sorcerer at some point. Unlike the rest of us, though, you weren’t being trained since leaving the womb. Eclectic mage’s education… or so it seems, anyway. So, yeah they are screaming bloody murder… but they have no idea. They can’t relate. Being in this business for damn near 300 years, I’m in a better position to evaluate.”
“Okay… So I’m not crazy?”
“Hell yeah, you are crazy… but only by their standards. Crazy’s a relative term and often applied to mystics. The awakening of the mystical aura has been fairly slow for you without someone else to coax it along. Gomurr told me that even in your past life, the affinity was there, but other than photons, it was never developed.”
“Hold on… I thought that was a mut…”
“Mutant only in that it manifests naturally as your other powers do... Scientifically, it does not hold water. As the son of a geneticist, I ought to know. The confusion is a common mistake in these days of anti-mutant paranoia. That’s beside the point… You called me in to discuss something else…”
“Yes, as a matter of fact…”
“Let me tell you what I told Daemon, I just can’t cancel out a spell like that. My specialty lies with elemental magic. For me, this would be a cross-disciplinary spell and would probably involve some year-long mystical quest. Trust me… It’s NOT worth it. I’ve done one of those before…”
“All right then, what CAN I do?”
“The witch who cast the spell has an extremely advanced mystical field. Seeing that it was a generic attack not even tailored to Gabe’s physiology, we’re talking about an unexpected side-effect. For whatever reason, your proximity to him is canceling out the spell, probably due to some connection. That tells me that is more than likely the direction to go in reversing the spell.”
“O…kay… So…”
“In order to break the spell permanently, the exorcist/life force specialty is probably the better way to go. Exorcism to cancel the spell and life force to sustain Gabe’s essence so he can recover.”
“Good deduction… So, who do we need to see in order to fix that one?” Khalid said, starting to rise to his feet.
“Of the top of my head, I am aware of only two people with those specific talents… and one of them is you.”
Khalid grumbled upon hearing that. “Great… There went that route.”
“I’m 300-some years old, Khalid. I can tell you from personal experience that ignoring your abilities is not going to make them go away… especially with your particular mystical field at such a young age. It is only going to get stronger as you become older and are more attuned to it. You don’t choose it… it chooses you.”
“Great…” Khalid growled. “Who’s the other guy?”
“Shamen, the Sorcerer Supreme… the former White King.”
“Hell no,” Khalid said. “Fuck that. Gabe’s going to have to wait until the spell wears off, then. There is NOOO way I’m going that guy. He’s the most self-righteous, egotistical, goddamn ALOOF man on the face of the Earth.” Khalid said, rising up from behind his desk. “At the Grey Court’s commencement ceremony, that guy tried to swindle me out of free tickets to my upcoming concert at the Lincoln Center. Cheap ass turkey…”
“Tangerine told me she’d like to go, but I heard that it is sold out; I don’t suppose you…”
“No… and I’m not going to call up the ticket master and free up the seat next to Scott Weiland either. Nice try.”
“Then why the hell am I here for?! All I wanted was the fucking concert seat!” Rune said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. With a gesture of his hand, he faded out of the room.
“Figures,” Khalid grumbled. “Everyone’s falling over themselves trying to swindle me out of tickets… and the concert is another month away.” Trying to force himself to relax and get back to work, Khalid dropped back into his office chair and reached for the inkpad. His eyes flashing yellow, he stopped in place… staring straight forward, as if hit by a sudden epiphany… and pressed his index and middle fingers into the inkpad…
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The most difficult thing about having a mutant power that automatically kills pathogens is that you have to take extraordinary measures when studying blood samples of patients. Angelo Torres should know. There were times where it nearly got him kicked out of medical school. He eventually learned how to minimize the effects by doing these tests in a closed system AND wearing a reverse-sterilized suit. It was tedious, but it helped to get the job done.
Right now, though, he was pushing the boundaries of medical ethics, here, more out of personal curiosity than out of the established need of his patient. Two weeks ago, Khalid Hunter was lying near death in the hospital. Hours later, he was perfectly healed, without a scar… and no memory of anything that occurred. To top it off was a sharp rise in metabolism, virtually overnight. According to Gabe, the guy ate like a tapeworm now, but it affected very little. Hormonally, it was almost like a second puberty. Considering everything else that had gone on before, Angelo knew better than to think Khalid’s body just spontaneously developed advanced recuperative powers. No way. Not with all the times he’s been in. There would have still be at least the SLIGHTEST hint that it was there before.
Fortunately, Angelo had the foresight after Khalid came in to take a blood sample. (Of course, he could not convince Khalid to come in for a physical, so this was the closest he was going to get.) He spent the last week running any test he could on it. What has he discovered? Khalid’s blood reacts just like the vast majority of the population to nearly every population. In other words… he’s just as susceptible as almost everyone.
Angelo did find some interesting results when running it through the Hellfire Club computer system. His blood type matches up with Grover, Christian, and Mahler. No surprise. Grover and Christian are his cousins. Mahler is probably pure coincidence. It happens. The thing is that there is an additive or something else in the mixture…
Taking Khalid’s blood sample, he introduced a little of Maul’s into the mixture. What SHOULD happen – with Maul being the same type of blood as Khalid – is that the vampire virus should very easily overwhelm Khalid’s blood cells and infect them all. Instead, what Angelo found was that upon contact, the vampire virus was disintegrated… reduced to its component parts. Khalid’s blood was unaffected. SPECIFICALLY targeted the vampire virus? Angelo thought. “Computer… Run additive 235 through Hellfire Club files.”
“Only one instance of additive 235 found. Date test taken: 1990… Record: Na…”
At that moment, the telephone rang. “Damn it,” Angelo said, turning away from the test. “Hello… Infirmary…”
“Angelo?”
“Papá?! ¿Dónde estás? ¿Por qué no me llamas? ¿Estás…”
“ANGELO… No puedo hablar. Ellos vienen paramí. Necisito correr. Escúchame. Los van Helsings quieren… ¡Díos mío! Necesito ir…”
The next thing Angelo heard was the sound of the phone being hung up. Dad’s on the run… Who are the van Helsings and what do they want with my father? With that, Angelo left the room to see Alice.
The Infirmary empty, he did not notice the Stranger appear on a white disc of light. Looking at the computer printouts, he cracked a smile, shaking his head back and forth. “No offense, good doctor… but I can’t be having my role revealed just yet.” With a flash of light from his eyes, everything changed so that the results were inconclusive… and Khalid’s blood samples were ruined. “Now… on to other business…” the stranger said, disappearing in a flash of light.
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“All right, K…” Daemon said, barging through the door to Khalid’s office. “I wanted to wait for the paperwork to be delivered to you, but I just can’t wait… to see the LOOK on your face when you see what your queen has ordered you to do! MAN, I can’t wait for this… I…” he stopped in his tracks, noticing that Khalid had not even acknowledged his entrance… or said anything. Instead, he noticed that Khalid was hunched over his desk, his hair fallen completely over his face. Faintly, Khalid’s yellow aura was flared as he scribbled quickly and furiously on a sheet of paper.
“God damn… Is this ANOTHER mother-fucking trance?!” Gabe sighed as he grabbed Khalid by the back of the neck and jerked his head up to look him in the face. With a start, Gabe jumped back when he saw the black mark drawn across his cheek, apparently using the ink from his stamp pad… that resembled a backwards letter R with an eye in the center! Daemon knew what the mark meant, although Khalid probably didn’t. “What the fuck…” The mark of the follower?! No one has worn that in thousands of years! Why does it look so familiar on him?!
He looked down at what Khalid had been writing… in Pharaohan. Khalid did nothing as Daemon picked up the sheet of paper, reading over it. Known to all, he returns from the dead to shield us from the bloody gauntlet. Trust not the eye for it can be deceived. Trust not the claw, who remains ignorant of its deception. They search for the Eye, but are too blind to see. “What the hell?! You’re writing RIDDLES now?!”
Khalid slowly craned his head toward him and nodded, remaining eerily silent. Daemon grabbed him by the neck, seeking to squeeze off his air, but he couldn’t. There was no effect. “Goddamn motherfucking trance…” Daemon mumbled… “Can’t even threaten anything out of you… COME ON!” He said, grabbing the back of Khalid’s office chair and pushing it down the hall. “Can’t wait to see your damn ass when you snap out of this in the Danger Room…”
End Chapter Three
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Chapter Four: Surpise!
The Lazy Divey Sports Bar
There were several things about this place that made it one of the most successful sports bars in Manhattan. The atmosphere was fun, but not trashy. The regular crowd was a mixture of personalities, ranging from struggling middle class workers to nationally known celebrities. The prices were just right, not too low or too high. Every Wednesday night was nacho night. Best of all, perhaps, is that the cook – Al Card – is the most sought after chef in Manhattan. Many owners of other restaurants tried desperately to woo him over, but could never succeed. Al avidly refused, saying that George Sussex had been his boss so long that he was like a father to him. Some patrons wondered if that might actually be the truth, but no one would ever confirm it. In any case, Al would never leave the Lazy Divey.
Being in the back, he didn’t notice the patrons trickle out of the front one by one. He did notice, when he placed the orders on the shelf, that no one came to pick them up. “Drake!” He said, hitting the bell. “Order of buffalo wings, cheese potatoes, and celery are up.” He stopped, finally noticing that no one else was at the bar. “What the hell?!”
Al was blinded by a flash of red light as he felt someone grab his neck and pin him roughly to the wall. He started to fight back, but he found to his dismay that his limbs were locked into place by an invisible force. When his eyes cleared, he saw that his attacker was none other than a stunning dark blonde in a grey business suit, with her hair pinned up… and a glowing, blood-red stone, on her ring finger. “Hello, Alucard… Fancy meeting you here...“
“Well… Um… Sure… I guess… Um… Are you going to pay for your order first?” Al asked, still blinking his eyes.
“No.“ Byron said, depositing Al in a chair. “Sit down.“ With a flash of her eyes, the entire building was sealed. “I want you to tell me RIGHT now what is going on with Essex…“
“I can’t do that Byron…” Al said calmly. “Not only is that STUPID, but Essex does not keep me appraised of everything.”
“Do NOT try my patience, Alucard…“ she said, her eyes lighting up with a reddish glow. “Diablo may not have told me, but I KNOW Essex is the one behind what happened to Diablo.“
“I know nothing about that… and even if I did, it would be stupid of me to say so.”
With a red flash of light, Al was hurled against the opposite wall, three of his ribs snapping from the impact. A red ball of flame slapped into his stomach, causing a third degree burn to erupt. “Alucard, I am NOT one you should tempt…“
He struggled as she ripped into his mind, opening it up like a book. If she had wanted, she could peer into every dirty thought and every dirty act he did. Even without the powers that came as Goddess of Hell, Byron was always a powerful psion and shape-shifter. Although her mastery over her talents is complete, she has rarely used them in public… saving them for whenever the need arises. Right now, the need was great. “My god… He siphoned off Diablo’s power… added it to his own… but you don’t know his plan… DAMN IT! You don’t know his plan!“
With a red flash of light, Alucard fell to the ground, out like a light. Byron powered down as she turned away, walking toward the door. She paused for a moment, wiping the tears from her eyes. Diablo was being honest with her from the start. Essex had taken his power. “ESSEX!” Byron shouted into the air. “I can’t sense you… but I KNOW you’re around… and I’ll see you PAY for what you have done to my husband!” With a flick of her wrist, the front door to the bar flew off and she stormed out.
Beside the door, a single line of fire appeared out of mid-air, soon transforming into a middle-aged man with blue shoulder-length hair and a goatee. Leaning his back against the wall, the man waved his fingers, fixing the door immediately. “You’re welcome to try, my dear…” Essex chuckled, with a smile. “You are WELCOME to try.”
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“These motherfucking trances are going to be a problem… I don’t know how I know… but I know…” Daemon said, pacing back and forth. “Three minutes in here and his dumb ass STILL hasn’t snapped out of it.” He looked toward Khalid, who was still sitting in the office chair in a half daze. With a sigh, he reached to his shoulderbelt, pulling out a knife.
“Gotta figure out how to make him fight… The guy’s so fucking stubborn… I’ll never gauge his strengths and weaknesses…” With a flick of the wrist, the knife sailed through the air, whizzing by Khalid’s ear into the wall behind him. “Won’t respond to marine tactics…” Gabe mumbled to himself as he pulled out another knife and balanced it between his two fingers. “Can’t flash the sword…” He mumbled, throwing the knife again, this time past Khalid’s neck. “Bitchass will just defy me out of spite…”
He noticed that the end of Khalid’s braid was in plain view. “Oh… this shot is TOO good not to take…” Pulling out another knife, he had his sights set on the braid. “Bye-bye braid…” Gabe said, flicking the knife. Just before it could reach the braid, Khalid’s hand snapped around the hilt, stopping the knife cold. A grin spread across Gabe’s face as he pulled out another knife, “Maybe these trances aren’t too bad afterall…”
Khalid reached out with his hand behind him, ripping the other two knives out of the wall. Daemon balanced one by the tip of the blade on the end of his finger, watching Khalid. Khalid started to do the same thing. Next, Daemon flipped the knife into the air, watching it turn about five times and then caught it by the hilt. Khalid followed suit. Although he was tempted to laugh, Daemon bit it back. He pulled out two more blades and started to juggle them, each time catching them by the hilt. As if on cue, Khalid copied that movement. Daemon stood up and started walking, while still juggling the knives and Khalid followed suit.
“Okay… K… Let’s see how you handle the final part…” Three flicks of the wrist… three blades fly by. One past each ear and the other toward his shoulder. Without a break, Khalid caught the other one and added it into his juggling act. With a sweeping movement, he flipped them all into the air and caught them all by the hilt. Balancing all four blades between his fingers, he flicked both hands at once. All of them flew past Daemon and imbedded into the wall behind him.
“I don’t know what bothers me more, K…” Daemon said. “That you did it after seeing it once… or that I half-expected you to.”
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“Well, Sharon, you are just having a WONDERFUL week, AREN’T you?” She said, walking back into her office. She tossed her purse on her desk and dropped onto the couch, grabbing her head. “Evil Grover’s out there… Case and Feonix can’t find him anywhere. Hawkeye’s being an asshole. Khalid’s probably pissed at me… Not to mention that I’m getting sued…” She leaned back into the couch, kicking off her pumps. “Isn’t today such a lovely day…” She said, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she realized that something was off. “What the…” She stood up walking toward the window. Nope… it was still closed… but why did she have the feeling that someone else was in the room?
The arm grabbed her from behind and placed a hand over her mouth. Snapping her foot down, she reached in back of her, brutally trying to squeeze her assailant in a tender spot in between the legs. Shit… He has a cup.
Her assailant pushed her forward into the window, knocking her off-balance. Finally, she spun around to kick her assailant upside the neck. “I don’t know WHO you are, but you chose the WRONG woman to attack!” She started to swing at him, finding to her surprise that her fist passed right through him. “What the hell?!” She said aloud, before falling through him toward the ground.
She spun around, ready to counter him, but then saw that his hand was extended to help her up to her feet. “What’s going on?! Who ARE--- THE WRAITH?!”
Dressed completely in black, the man identified as the Wraith reached inside his shirt, withdrawing an envelope. He handed it to her, holding his hand in front of his mouth, as if indicating that he could not speak.
“I don’t believe it… I got a visit from The Wraith. Now I am going to be the one the guys will call crazy…” Sharon said as she ripped the letter open, looking inside. “You have got to be kidding…” she called out loud. “Protocols?! Grover had figured out ways to kill us and filed them away in his mind?!” she looked up at the Wraith, this time watching him disappear through the ceiling. When she made it down to the bottom of the letter, she looked back up. “All right… That guy is crazier than Jacob if he thinks that I am going to…” She stopped, taking a look at the back of the letter. “P.S… No, Sharon… I am not crazier than Jacob.”
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Well… he finally woke up…
“I don’t believe this… I fucking DO NOT believe this… Is this a conspiracy? Is this a conspiracy to chip away at what is left of my already-fragile sanity?” Khalid said to Daemon. “By sticking me in a training room with two out of the top four people on my shit list?”
Daemon slapped Khalid in the shoulder, watching him trip over his feet stumbling forward. “Hell yeah, it’s a conspiracy. The best part?” Daemon said, slapping Khalid in the chest with an envelope… “Orders handed directly from the White Queen herself… with support by the White Bishop and the White Knight… You’ve been RAILROADED, boy!”
“God damn,” Khalid said, reading over the sheet. “Traitors… the LOT of them… leaving me to the mercy of you assholes…”
“Come on, K…” Gabe said with a smile. “You’ve been looking forward to this opportunity to prove me wrong… Of course, you are going to fail miserably… but still.” His smile grew wider, exposing his white teeth. He rubbed his hands together greedily, leveling his eyes at Khalid… “Mmmmmm… fresh meat…”
“CUT THAT OUT!” Khalid said, throwing the wad of paper in Gabe’s face. “I’m not one of your…”
With a flash of light, Gabe’s extradimensional sword appeared in his hand. “Oh… but according to that wad of paper, you may as well be. No one else has either time or patience to train your sorry ass, K… and as one of the resident bad-asses, I was only too eager to offer my services.” Snickering, he started rubbing it on his sleeve, wiping what appeared to be a red crusty substance off the flashing blade.
“Hell no…” Khalid said, watching the crimson flakes fall to the ground. “I’ll fucking tell her myself! I am NOT getting the hell beat out of me by you… or Maul… day after day.” Maul rose up from Khalid’s shadow, hovering directly behind him. Just like Daemon, he sneered, giving a prominent view of his protruding canines. “…and if you think for an INSTANT I am going to let the thug and the vamp carve and serve…” With a flash of the eyes, Khalid stopped. “Maul, quit lurking behind me!”
“What’s wrong, Löwe… Afraid something will happen?” He said, hovering closer than Khalid felt comfortable. “Afraid that maybe I’ll snap on you like THIS?!” Apparently as a point of emphasis, Maul snapped his fingers next to Khalid’s ear, which had the result of jerking him to a stop. “Or maybe you’re really afraid you’ll learn something?” With a smile, Maul spoke softly and calmly… which made him come off sounding creepier. “I can say without a doubt that I’m in control. Can you say the same, Löwe? Can you say you aren’t going to snap?” Again, he snapped his fingers, sneering at Khalid.
Löwe??!! Daemon thought. Just like the tattoo on K’s back? Coincidence, my ashy black ass… about as much as K walking up to my door, covered in vampire blood…
Khalid’s eyes flashed yellow just before they blinked. He started to speak, with a slight hesitation in the beginning… almost like he had once again come out of a trance. “Fuck off, Maul. I’m not learning a damn thing from either one of you. You guys have nothing worthwhile to teach me…”
“Really?” Daemon said, pushing his thoughts to the side. “We wrote up the lesson plan, two days ago. Complete agreement on this one. No baby shit, this time. You decide to remain apathetic; you’ll be effectively committing suicide. Makes no difference to either one of us. Then, that is your failure as a person rather than our failure to teach. Remember how intensive Christmas was? That was just a warm-up.”
Khalid shook his head and started toward the door. “That’s it… I’m out of here.”
“Not so fast, Music-Man,” Daemon said, flashing his sword in front of him. “You see… As of right now, you are on MY time. This is Blood, Guts, and Survival 101… and…”
“Hell no…” Khalid said, pushing the blade away from him. “Khalid’s been cutted, blooded, and gutted enough, thank you… and Khalid is MORE than familiar with Gabe’s ‘Theory of Pedagogy’… including the bruises, deep cuts, third-degree burns, and broken bones that go along with it. I am NOT hanging around to see what mind games and injuries you two have in store for me! I’m getting the hell out before…”
You may not remember, but you’re familiar with MINE as well! Maul grabbed him by the shoulder before he could move. “We ALSO agreed, Löwe, that this is a continuously ongoing… Any time, day or night is fair…”
“No… What you are forgetting is that I’m not playing your game!” Khalid said, slapping his hand away. He started moving toward the door, doing his best not to get mad. “Find someone else to threaten, bully, and whatever it is you guys do…”
With a smile, Maul’s eyes briefly flashed yellow as he called after him. “Come on, Löwe, you haven’t even tried it yet…”
In mid-step, Khalid jerked to a stop, his eyes staring straight ahead. Blankly, he spoke, his face apparently having little connection with what his mouth said. “Sure, I’ll give it a try… When do we start?” Shaking his head, a look of near-terror flashed across his face. What the fuck?! TELL me I didn’t just say that?!
Daemon watched Khalid’s expression from the back… Something’s up. No way would K say something like that… He’s too stubborn. Under the circumstances, I don’t think I’ll look a gift-horse in the mouth. “When do we start?” Daemon reached to his side, tossing a gym bag to Khalid. “Change your clothes, first. Field trip.”
Khalid still looked dazed as the gym bag slapped into his chest. What the hell?! This is NOT happening…
“I’m impressed, Löwe… I did not think you had the balls.” Maul said, staring intently at him. “Ready to have some fun?”
Khalid’s eyes flashed the moment Maul finished. All of a sudden, he had a mental flash of himself ripping a photon blade across the neck of a vampire… his senses crisp and overflowing as he slew another one, the thick scent of blood pounding into his nose… blood that splashed on his face. Before Khalid even realized it, his lip pulled back from his teeth and a growl came out of his mouth. For a moment, Khalid found himself thinking about what he would like to hunt for dinner, but then he snapped out of it, blinking his eyes. What the hell?! That seemed so fucking real…
“Better get moving, K… We leave in ten minutes...”
End Chapter Four
Chapter Five
“Here we are,” Daemon said, stepping out of his personal pirated (and souped-up) version of the “Fantasticar.” Under normal circumstances, he would kick into his drill sergeant mode, but right now he thought that the first day would be different. He was going to tire the hell out of Khalid before he beat the shit out of him. Trying his best not to laugh, (there was something satisfying about screwing over your greatest pain in the neck), he spun to face his “guests” who were still in the hovercar. He considered it fortunate that Khalid could not see the brown eyes beneath the tinted sunglasses… or otherwise Khalid might have a clue what’s coming. “Wilson Gorge. I went through considerable trouble to buy this from an old Japanese businessman. I knew it would come in handy some day.”
“Let me get this straight… You two dragged me into this damn metallic matchbox… fly halfway around the country, doing spirals, turns, and whatever else you can think of to make me sick…” Khalid said, stepping out with the usual deadpan face. If he did not have doubts about this before, (which he did) then he sure did now. He rubbed his left arm just over the tattoo as he came out, mentally cursing Daemon for having him change into that sleeveless shirt before being dragged out here. He briefly scanned the place, glancing around for any traps and what not. Same ol’. Same ol’ Out in the middle of nowhere… Huge rockface… woods nearby. Exactly what Daemon had in mind, Khalid had no idea of. “…just to take me to the bottom of a fucking CLIFF?! And how does this fit in your plan? Nevermind; I don’t want to know… I want out of here.”
“Oh… you’re getting out of here, all right… Right up that cliff.”
“Ohhh… that’s funny. Do I look like a fucking rock climber to you?! That things 500 feet up!”
“642 feet to be exact.” Daemon said, nudging his head toward its direction. “This is your warm up. When you get to the top, we’ll begin the exercises.”
“Hell no… Fuck that. I don’t care if you have the best equipment in the world… I’m not…”
“Good, because your going to use your photon powers. Nothing else..…”
“What the fuck!? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR…”
“Did I just stutter or something? Get your sorry black ass up that rock and don’t expect me to clean up after you when you fall. You make ENOUGH of a mess in the apartment.”
Khalid started walking away. “Fuck that… If you think for an INSTANT I am going to do something as STUPID as that, then you can take your goddamn extradimensional sword and shove it straight up your …”
“Motherfuckingsonofabitch…” Daemon mumbled as Khalid went on his tirade. With a flash of light, Anubis came to his hand, sizzling and popping in the air with its power. “I’ll show him where I’m gonna stick my extradimensional sword…” Daemon grumbled.
With no warning, Maul grabbed him by the arm, halting Daemon’s charge on Khalid. “There are other ways; allow me…” Maul smiled. To Daemon, Maul’s snap of the fingers was a simple gesture. Nothing more. As far as Khalid had walked away from him, still going off at the mouth, it couldn’t have been anything more than dramatic.
To Khalid, the sound was as loud and as surprising as a swift beat against a bass drum, even from over a hundred feet away. His entire body froze in mid-step –as if jerked by a string – as he stared forward quietly, apparently waiting for something.
“Now then, climb the fucking rock.”
With a flash of the eyes, Khalid abruptly turned and walked toward the rockface, neither opening his mouth to argue or to complain. Once at the base of the cliff, he flared his red photon lion aura and proceeded to climb.
Daemon, who watched this with a bit of disbelief, craned his head toward Maul and quietly asked, “How did you do that?”
“Do what?” Maul answered with a seemingly innocent expression on his face.
“Convince him to go up? Something about the way you spoke…”
“I have no idea what you are talking about…”
Right. Daemon thought to himself. “We’re going to talk about this later. For now, let’s get to the top and wait for him.”
-------------------------------------------
Angelo Torres walked up to his father’s house, pausing almost immediately. The door to the small house just on the outskirts of suburbs was not completely closed. In fact, he noticed that it was parted. No, he knew for sure that his father was not at the house, but he did figure that it was a place he could start. There must be some clue as to who these Van Helsings were… and what exactly they wanted with his father…
The first thing he noticed when he entered was that the electricity was cut off… For what? He didn’t know. The phone line was dead. In other words, whoever it was after his father had gone after him right here. I don’t get it, Angelo thought, as he looked around the ransacked house. What were they looking for? What do they want? Who ARE they?
He remembered all the joy and the pain associated with this house. He remembered as a young child watching his mother become destroyed by the ravages of breast cancer, yet spend her waking hours praying over him. His father constantly begged her to allow him to save her, but she refused… That was no life, she said, referring of course to the curse passed through the Torres family.
Angelo remembered the look in his father’s eyes every month when he came in the house, with blood dripping from his mouth and scratches around his body. That was Angelo’s first training at being a doctor, seeing after his father. Never would Jaime Torres go to the doctor. It was too dangerous… The risk to Angelo was minimal. He already carried the latent gene, which would likely never be activated. (Or so he thought until Cassandra Lecke exposed him to wolfsbahne.) He sewed the stitches himself, applying the antibiotic and unknowingly killing the infection himself.
He saw something stuck in the wall… a small object with feathers on the end. He prayed it wasn’t what he thought it was, but he knew for sure. A tranquilizer dart. No blood on it, so likely they missed. From what he could tell, these people were trying to capture his father, not kill him. Why? What could they possibly want with him? They couldn’t POSSIBLY know he was a werewolf… could they?
He was in over his head here. He wasn’t a detective – he was a doctor. His father was just now learning to control the transformation. Angelo sure as hell couldn’t. He needed to get someone over here who knew what he was doing. I better make my way back to the Hellions Compound and see what Alice dug up on the Van Helsings…
That was when he heard the high-pitched whine. It was so high-pitched that normal humans could not hear it. Normally, he wouldn’t even be able to hear it, but he had a feeling this was being directed at him. It was so sharp and loud that he clamped his hands over his ears and fought to keep steady. When he felt the tingling in his hands, he suddenly realized what was going on… Someone else was forcing the transformation.
“That’s right, Angelo…” the voice said from the door. She walked in, carrying a small device in the palm of her hand that looked like a beeper. “We know ALL about you, DON’T we, Ernst?”
“Forgive my wife over there for her rudeness,” a man said with a German accident. “My father warned me how uncouth American women were, but I didn’t listen.” He lashed out with his steel-toed boot, kicking Angelo in the jaw and then grabbed him by the neck in what was a metallic vise-grip. He ripped Angelo’s hand off his ear, exposing him to the whine full-force. Angelo opened his eyes, trying to force back the transformation. He looked into the blue eyes of his captor. About five inches shorter than Angelo, well-muscled, and practically white blond hair. Normal human, he appeared to be, but this guy HAD to be a cyborg. It wasn’t visible, but there was something very DEFINITELY mechanical about the way he moved, though he could not lay his finger on it. “What can I say? Isn’t she something to look at? She was just so good in bed…”
“Ernst!” the woman said, stepping toward the two of them. “Please… If you are going to talk about our sex life, you could at LEAST have the decency not to leave out the lurid details.” She was every bit as Nordic-looking as her husband, but just as cybernetic. The two of them wore glowing turquoise suits, which apparently allowed them to blend into their surroundings. They were sitting here and waiting for him the whole time… and Angelo just walked right into their trap. She extended here hand toward Angelo, expecting him to kiss it… “Nice to meet you, Angelo… My name is Sonja and this is my husband Ernst… Van Helsing. We would like to form an alliance…” She ran her hand along Angelo’s cheek, feeling the soft lupine fur that was beginning to develop it. “Ooooh… Soft… Hmmm… we might form something else while were at it. He’s so cute, Ernst… Can we keep him?”
“No, Sonja…” Ernst laughed, looking at Angelo with a leer. “He’s the mutated breed… We must turn him over to father.”
“A shame… and I was SOOO looking forward to it.” She said, caressing the device in her hand. “Let me turn this up a few notches so we can at least see what he looks like with a tail. This will hurt only a LITTLE, Angelo…”
“Dr. Torres, to you…” Angelo forced out, struggling in Ernst’s grip. Of all the mutant powers to have right now, killing pathogens right now seemed REALLY useless… and he had no weapons. Just as well… he took the Hippocratic Oath. He’d have to treat them if he hurt them. “What do you want with me?”
“Oh…” she said, tracing her hand down. “I want a LOT with you… and so does Ernst, here… but really, though… You’re type is immune to silver. You wouldn’t BELIEVE what price your breed would fetch on the Black market… and there are only four of you that we know of… until we get some volunteers, that is!”
“Keep that up, Sonja…” Ernst said with a laugh, “and we’ll have our way right here…”
“I don’t play ball.” Angelo spat at Ernst. He turned his glare to Sonja, with even more disgust. “And I don’t play with sluts.”
Ernst’s grip tightened, cutting off his air. “How DARE you?!”
“Yeah!” Sonja growled. “How DARE you refuse my husband! He happens to ‘play ball’ EXTREMELY well…”
“I don’t want to know how you know that…” said another voice from behind. Before either of the two could move, they both heard a click at the base of their scalps… Revolvers. “Don’t move… either of you. I’m well-aware of your technology. This is one of your Achilles’ Heels. Release the boy,”
Ernst released his grip on Angelo, dropping him to the ground.
“Good,” the new voice said. “Now, you… the bitch… crush the device. NOW.”
Sonja did as he said, which in turn caused Angelo to revert fully back to his human form. Angelo backed away, getting a new look at his rescuer. Normally, he would have issues with ANYONE referring to him as “boy,” but he figured he would take it right now. In the darkness of the house, he couldn’t see the man’s face… but he saw the rest of his body, including the silver chain around his neck. I’d guess he is around 25 or so… but he speaks like he is much older…
“All right, Doctor…” The new man said. “Right now, I need your word…”
“WHAT?!” Angelo said, backing away. “Word on what?!”
“Easy… your word you won’t stop to treat them.”
“WHAT?!” Ernst and Sonja said in unison. Before they could move, the stranger jerked his guns down and shot them both in the back of the knees, apparently another on of their Achilles’ Heels. Angelo noticed that they didn’t bleed… well… blood anyway…
The stranger grabbed Angelo by the back of the shirt and practically half-dragged him out of the house. “Get a move on, Son… We don’t have time. Those tin cans are never down for long.”
“HOLD ON!” Angelo said, digging his heels into the ground. With a snap, he jerked the man so that he was still. Finally able to make out his face, Angelo could see that this third person indeed appeared to be about 25. American Indian, he had to be. He was bone and flesh, unlike the Van Helsings in there, but there was still something very different about him. Angelo could not figure out what it was. “First off, don’t call me ‘son’ or ‘boy’ or any derivative, next… you tell me who the hell you are RIGHT now and what is going on!”
“You don’t know what the hell is going on YET?!” The man shouted at him. “We don’t have time for this. Fine… My name is Joseph – a friend of your father’s… and I’m here to save your ass before they get their hands on you. Now COME ON!” He gestured toward a hovercraft. “Hop on…”
“Where are we…”
Looking toward the horizon, Joseph jumped into the hovercraft and reached out, pulling Angelo in the back with one arm. Next, he reached under the dashboard and tapped two wires together, starting the craft up silently. “My problem… You just hang in for the ride.” As it rushed off, Angelo glanced back at his father’s house, trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together…
-------------------------------------
Okay… it is official… I am fucking off my rocker. Khalid thought to himself. There were a few things that were just REALLY really scary about that moment in time. 1.) He was scaling the steepest gorge he had EVER seen in the Rockies with no safety harness or any other mountain climbing equipment… just his lion aura. 2.) He was up… HIGH up… 3.) Although he had never done it before, this felt really familiar. 4.) He could feel himself slipping into Mufasa’s thought patterns… and did not give a damn.
The scariest thought of all – to Khalid, anyway – was that he was enjoying it. The thought of dropping over 500 feet to a rocky death? Nope… That didn’t bug him at all. There was something about the continuous adrenaline rush… his senses having long ago slipped into overdrive. He realized what it was, though. Perfect control, over his fate. All he had to do was drop the aura and release the hand grip and he could die. Right now, he was the only one determining whether he lived or not. No one else was trying to do it for him.
That knowledge alone was putting him on the edge. It was like he was drunk, but it was on his own power… his own senses. Everything was alive, to him. The rock under the claws of his lion aura. The wind rushing past him. The scent of the dry air. The sound of the whistling air and the demonically-tinged growl from his throat. His eyes seemed to almost burn with what they could pick up. Even senses normally buried seemed to be rippling underneath the surface. He was not exactly sure how he knew, but he knew that Daemon was at the top of the gorge, reading stock reports from his company. Maul was lying about on the ground, soaking up the sun… If he were to slip right now, he would be a pancake.
He still wasn’t sure what it was that convinced him to do it. It made no sense to him. One moment, he was telling Daemon all the fun things he could cram in hidden bodily orifices, and the next he was over a hundred feet off the ground on the adrenaline high of his life. It made no sense to him… He didn’t even have the CONDITIONING to be doing this. What is happening to me? Grover stabs me to death and all of a sudden when I wake up my body starts changing on me… Does it make any sense?
With a yellow flash of the eyes, Khalid jerked to a stop, his eyes opening wide as if a dawn of realization came upon him. Before he even realized what he was doing, he struck the side of the cliff with two photon blades, bringing himself to a stand on top of them. Then, he spun away from the rockface with another photon blade in his hand and a snarl.
“//A different body, but the same soul,//” the man said. (Translated from the Ancient Egyptian.) He hovered twenty feet in front of Khalid, pulling his hat off to reveal an apparently elderly Middle-Eastern man, with a bald head. “//Able to recognize me in all my disguises…//”
“//Anwar…//“ Khalid found himself saying.
The man changed before him, not as a shapeshifter, but apparently growing younger before Khalid’s eyes until he appeared to be a man in his fifties. The two of them stared at each other, Anwar with no apparent expression on his face, Khalid with borderline rage. “//Last time I saw you, that fool Darkheart mistakenly assumed your vampire friend could dispatch me. You knew better… That was what that laugh was about, wasn’t it?//”
“//I laughed because I was watching one fool be made a fool by another fool.//“ Khalid said holding the photon blade to the side. “Why not come closer so I can heal that hemorrhoid of yours?“
“//This is too rich… you hate me… but you don’t know why. I’d be careful if I were you… you look like you are in a precarious position, there… OLD friend…//”
“//Don’t be ridiculous… you can’t risk it.//“
“//I need only two people, Mufasa…//” Anwar said, with his left hand glowing a shade of purple. “//And one of them is reading his stock reports right now. Good bye… Earthquakes can be AWFULLY devastating when you are on the side of a cliff…//”
-------------------------------
With a start, Daemon jerked in his chair scattering the stock reports everywhere. Normally, with earthquakes, he could anticipate them because his senses picked up the vibrations just before they hit. This one was sudden… and STRONG. It wasn’t enough to destroy a major city, but it was localized enough to knock Khalid off the cliff… and possibly cause a rockslide. “Maul! Go get…”
“I’m on it 5 seconds ago…” Maul said, taking off into the air… that was when they rose from the shadows, swarming over them like bees. Soulless men and women with unnaturally obscured faces and completely white eyeballs with black Middle-Eastern shrouds over their faces. Their black robes were cropped, revealing Egyptian tunics and “skirts” with the symbol of a serpent across them.
“God damn…” Daemon said, as his sword flashed to life in his hand. “Toc-Ra…” With a quick turn, one of the Toc-Ra’s heads dropped to the ground, severed by the extradimensional sword Anubis. As he fought, Daemon tried to remember anything he could about them. No smell… no heat signatures… can shadowslide… impervious to the elements… and carry scimitars… ENCHANTED scimitars… In other words, they were fucked… big time. “Maul!” Daemon shouted, disemboweling another foot soldier. “We have to…”
Before he could finish, a bo struck him in the nose. The wielder spun it around in his hands, thrusting it into his stomach next. Sheer numbers and magic were kicking their behinds. What he noticed as he fought on was that they were attacking him with blunt weapons – enchanted staffs and chains – but going after Maul with the scimitars. They want me alive… but why? With a burst of electromagnetic energy, he managed to clear them back away from him enough so he could move decisively. He started to move toward Maul with a burst of superspeed when he got knocked to his knees by a mindblast. With a jerk of his wrist, the head flew off the source of the attack, but soon more of them followed. Fuck… these are the psi soldiers…
From his position, Maul could see Daemon being taken down. He himself was not faring well. Although those enchanted scimitars were not able to break through his adamantium bones, they were wreaking havoc on his healing factor. “Sorry, my friend…” Maul said, raking his claws viciously across his adversary’s neck. “I hate to waste blood.”
The next soldier, taking its cue from the distraction, started to swing for Maul’s head while his back was turned. Instead, he found a well-placed boot in the face, cracking his skull on impact. Before the dead soldier’s scimitar could fall to the ground, Maul kicked it into his own hand using it to run through another soldier. “Time for a hasty retreat…” With a twitch of his shadow-sliding power, Maul and Daemon sank into their shadows… only to be followed closely by the Toc-Ra…
End Chapter Five
-------------------------------
Chapter Six: Fistfight!
“My God, Grover… What have you done?” Sharon said, browsing through the files. “Files on every current member of the roster… every person in the White and Grey Courts… compiled after the slaughter of the Hellions.” Her hand rose to her mouth as she saw one of the files on the computer screen. “Alice… did you know about these files before?”
Alice Pembleton backed up against the file cabinet, her hand pushing tightly against her chest. Sharon could tell by her silent reaction that she was just as shocked as she was upon finding those files. “No… Not at all. I… had no idea.”
“He has protocols on everyone, Alice… Their key strengths and weaknesses… the quickest and most efficient ways to kill them.”
“Darque Feonix: Alpha class psion… precog… Suggested: psi-armor and weapons with transdimensional projectiles to penetrate telekinetic fields…” Alice said, reading the file on the screen. “I don’t know what to do, now… I honestly don’t. Grover already has access to this information. He put it in. I…”
“Information like this is too dangerous to keep around. What if someone else gets a hold of it?” Sharon was about to press the delete key when Alice stopped her.
“I hate to play devil’s advocate here, but what if there is something on there that we need.” Alice reached over, hitting the down key until they landed on SuperGrover. “He put one in here for himself, too.”
Sharon’s finger hovered over the key, reluctant to press down. She did not WANT to know how to take down SuperGrover. That was not her interest. She knew what that note told her to do, though… and it was OUT of the question. She was not going to risk Christian like that. She COULDN’T risk Christian like that. If anything happened to him, Grover would never forgive her… SHE would never forgive herself… With a sigh, she pressed it. “I can’t say I’m surprised, Alice. Grover left it blank.”
“He didn’t leave it blank,” Alice said, pointing to the bottom of the screen. “Someone hacked into the computer and deleted it.”
“WHAT?!” Sharon said, seeing what Alice was pointing to. She was right… the “last accessed” date on the file was this morning. “Grover didn’t hack into it again, did he?”
“No,” Alice said. “He couldn’t have. This file was accessed while I was doing maintenance on the computers. It automatically locks out the system from external access. For someone to have accessed it, he or she had to have been in THIS building… AND had to have known about it.”
“And the plot gets thicker and thicker…” Sharon said, scrolling through the screen.
-----------------
As soon as the rock slide started, Khalid shot a photon blade at Anwar, who deflected it with the purple orb around him. Using his photon aura to propel him, Khalid leapt off the rockface, heading straight into Anwar… until a purple blast of energy struck him in the face, knocking him into the cascade of falling rocks…
“//Good-bye, Mufasa… In your next life, I hope you come back as a dung beetle…//” He stopped, looking down… “//Where did your body go…//”
With a flash of light, Khalid appeared over him, dropping right on top of him. As the two of them fell out of the sky, Khalid made four strikes… two to the sides of Anwar’s neck and two more to the joints of his shoulders. Temporarily, the circulation of blood was cut off to Anwar’s head and arms. “//I know better than to think a snake like YOU is going to die like this… but…//“ With that, he broke Anwar’s nose with the heel of his hand and teleported away just before impact…
Anwar crashed into the ground, releasing a purple explosion of energy that scattered dirt, rocks, and anything unfortunate enough to be around into the air. When the dust cleared, Anwar rose to a stand, wiping the dirt from his scalp and watching his skin heal itself. With a grunt, he reached his hand up to his nose and set it back in place just before brushing the dirt off his dark purple tunic. “//I would have never thought it possible… but this incarnation of Mufasa is even more irritating than the last. Mental note: His death is to be slow… and painful.//”
---------------------------------
Maul burst from the shadows, with Daemon tucked under his arm. His plan right now was called a wild-goose chase. Between the two of them, he was probably better off. His ability to fly gave him an advantage over the Toc-Ra. Hopefully, it also gave him enough time to get his healing factor back in order before the Toc-Ra caught up with them… though he admittedly was NOT prepared to battle them himself… not to mention that there was still the matter of Khalid. He didn’t even know if Khalid was alive, right now.
Daemon blinked his eyes as the wind hit his face and started rubbing his darkened temples. He looked up just enough to get a weed smacking him in the face and then to see that it was Maul’s arm around his waist. “God damn… Never saw it coming…”
“They’re still after us you know,” Maul said, blinking his dark eyes. “And we have to find Khalid rather quickly.”
Daemon looked at his fingers, trying to cause an electromagnetic current… but only raising a spark. “Khalid… Damn… Oh fuck… Khalid…” He said as he realized the golden bracelet attuned to his brainwaves was going off. “Maul… Turn back… NOW! We need to go back!”
“Nein… we can’t circle back until we draw them out here.”
“LOOK!” Daemon said, flashing his sword. “Four reasons to go back… 1.) The hovercar has my psi-inhibitor, a dimensional forcefield, and a weapons array. 2.) Unless I’m within 1000 feet of Khalid, my powers don’t work. 3.) I’ll fucking gut your ass with Anubis. 4.) Because in twenty seconds…”
------------------------------
With a flash of light, Khalid burst out of the porthole. Right now, he sort of had a problem, because of all the gravitational acceleration he picked up falling out of the sky with Anwar. Khalid had the presence of mind to change the direction of his porthole and send the momentum to the side. Flaring his aura, Khalid rolled along the ground, to slow down his speed. Finally stopped spinning, Khalid sat up, wiping the blood away from his eye. Right now, he KNEW he could not afford to go another round with Anwar… Somehow, he needed to meet up with Maul and Daemon, but at this point he couldn’t sense them or hear them in the immediate area.
He jerked to his feet, forming two blades in his hands. With a yellow flash of the eyes, Khalid bobbed to the side as a purple blast meant for his head passed him. Anwar shot out of the ground punching him in the chin and doing a spinning heel kick to the face. After seeing Khalid fly through the air and crash into a tree, he walked over laughing. “//Ahhhh… old friend… You forgot a LOT during your hibernation, time… Where is the man who at one point single-handedly dispatched the elite order to avenge his daughter?//”
Khalid got up, noticing for the first time that his bracelet was going off. What the hell… is Daemon out of range?! With a swipe backwards with his photon aura, Khalid knocked the tree on top of Anwar. While he was pinned, four photon blades shot from his fingers, hitting Anwar in the neck, heart, stomach, and the eye.
As he walked over to finish the fight, he finally felt it… the strongest surge of electromagnetic energy rip right through him. He dropped to his knees as the energies coursed through his system. He knew what the source was… the bracelet… He focused through the pain, struggling desperately to reach the bracelet with his other hand… He was not sure if he knew what he was doing, but he SUSPECTED he knew how to take it off… and considering that right now he was in the fight of his life, he did not have much of a choice.
He never got to take the chance. With a purple blast, Anwar ripped the tree apart. He rose to the ground, healing on the spot. “//Hilarious… Done in by a piece of alien jewelry… You failed this time, Mufasa… Your charge belongs to me, powerless to stop me once you are gone.//” A purple burst of energy, flew from his hand, striking Mufasa in the face again. He was knocked on his back and pushed along the ground until he stopped… out cold. Anwar walked toward his body, pulling a knife from the belt of his tunic with a jade serpentine blade. “//You will die slowly… powerless to resist as I take your essence… and your power for the glory of…//”
“//HEY!!//” a voice called from behind him. Craning his head to glance, Anwar raised a purple protective forcefield just as the plasma burst from Daemon’s hovercar reached him. With a flash of the eyes, he channeled it back toward the hovercar, watching as it bounced off the forcefield. “//You must be confused,//” Daemon called out, emerging from the hovercar with his portable force-field around him. He knew that with this guy being a mage, he was probably the LAST one who should be facing this guy… but he sure as hell was not about to let this guy rip out Khalid’s life force to sustain his master. “//I’M the main event. He’s just opening for me!//”
“//Arrogant fool,//” Anwar laughed, grabbing Khalid by the neck and hovering into the air. “//You’re just a means to an end…//” His eyes flashed a dark purple, causing Daemon’s force-field to go screwy and power down. From beneath his feet, more Toc-Ra shot out of the ground, converging on Daemon. Before they got too close, Maul shot up from the ground behind them, attacking the swarm from behind. “//Now… where was I…//”
Before he could move, Khalid grabbed him by the wrist with both hands and shoved the serpentine dagger into Anwar’s abdomen. Then, he headbutted the ancient priest and backhanded him away. With a flare of his aura, Khalid dropped from Anwar’s grip to the ground, this time forming two curved, multi-pronged blades in his hands. “//You were hovering in the air with the Dagger of Set stuck in your liver… just like the LAST time we fought!//“
“//MUFASA!! You’ll die painfully for this insult…//” Anwar said, floating to the ground. With the greatest of effort, he ripped the blade from his abdomen.
“//You said THAT last time, too…//“ Khalid said with a sneer. Before Anwar could prepare, Khalid was already in front of him, bringing the two photon versions of Pharaohan sunblades across his chest. Anwar staggered back as the blood began to gush from his chest. Next, Khalid punched him in the mouth, knocking out a tooth.
“What the HELL?!” Daemon shouted as he jerked his sword across one Toc-Ra psi-soldier’s face and shot another one in the heart. Feeling that the battle had evened out, somewhat, he ripped Anubis through yet another psi-soldier. “Better go rescue K…”
Maul smirked as he saw Anwar thrown through the air into the scimitars of two of the psi-soldiers. “Rescue him?” Blindly backhanding another psi-soldier, Maul glanced toward Daemon with another wide-eyed smile. “From what? His nap?”
“What is THAT supposed to mean?!” Daemon shouted, when he noticed that Khalid’s scent had shifted again. He’s right… That scent… Khalid’s not the one in charge!
Khalid ripped the photon blade across the face of another psi-soldier and punched another one directly in the neck, breaking his windpipe. Teleporting in front of Anwar in a flash of light, Khalid punched him again in the nose to stagger him. With a mocking laugh, Khalid kicked the Dagger of Set into his hand and held it to Anwar’s neck. “//You know better than to face me without your henchmen, Anwar…//“
“//How?! None but those anointed by Set can hold his dagger!//”
“//Not even the stench of Set can corrupt me. Retreat to your den.//“
With a flash of purple, Anwar’s eyes glowed and the Toc-Ra psi-soldiers sank into the ground. Anwar also began to sank into the ground, his eyes burning into Khalid. “//Be warned, Mufasa… As last time, you have wrought His wrath on your head… and I will dine on your heart…//”
Waiting until Anwar had fully retreated into the ground, Mufasa turned toward Daemon and flipped the dagger into the air. “//Destroy it, but do not touch it.//“ Anubis cut through the air, disintegrating the cursed dagger with a single stroke. As soon as the green smoke had cleared away, Khalid spoke again. “//Anwar will soon create another.//“
“Löwe, how many times have we been over this? In English or German please. I do not speak Egyptian.” Maul said, with a hint of irritation.
Khalid turned toward Maul. “Then learn, Vampire…“
“No no no, We aren’t having this argument again… it’s getting rather annoying.” With that said, Maul snapped his fingers.
With a yellow flash of the eyes, Khalid blinked and then grabbed his head… only to notice it was covered in blood. His aura powered down as he started staggering. “//What the hell…//” he said, looking around. “//Where am I? Guys…//” He wiped the blood off his lip…
“HOLD ON…” Daemon said, noticing the various expressions that passed through Khalid’s eyes, including the sense of disorientation. “Are you telling me you don’t remember a god damn thing?!”
Khalid’s eyes leveled on Daemon and with the demonic growl from his mouth, it temporarily looked like Mufasa had resumed control. His fist flew out, landing on Daemon’s lip. Of course, Daemon was not physically harmed, but the suddenness of the action caught him quickly off-guard. “//What I REMEMBER, Gabe, is getting the SHIT beat out of me by that Anwar guy because YOU fucking went out of range! Not to mention almost falling to death! And…//” he suddenly stopped. “//Hold on… Am I speaking Egyptian?!//”
Under normal circumstances, he probably would have slapped Khalid back or shocked him with the bracelet, but right now his anger was centered on Maul. The sudden realization of what had been happening all of those months with Khalid’s lack of control and constant reversion to Mufasa made perfect sense, now. Maul could turn him on and off like a light switch! Daemon pulled further away from Khalid, this time leveling his sword at Maul. “I should have known… NOW, it makes sense… and I’m going to put a stop to it!”
“//Put a stop to WHAT?!//” Khalid asked, seeing the two of them square off, each one of them apparently forgetting he was there. “//Maul, what is he talking about? What’s going on?//”
“Just like you placing him on the electric leash?” Maul sneered, adjusting his arms in a battle position. “To fulfill your own needs? At least I’m serving a long-term purpose!”
“Hold on!” Khalid said, finally speaking English. He stood in between them, hoping he could find a way to both defuse the situation and find out what was going on… without getting gutted… again. Khalid… what are you doing? You don’t even LIKE them! If you were smart, you’d let them duke it out while you got the hell out of dodge. “No killing each other just yet. WHAT are you guys talking about?!”
“Yeah… right… SURE… He’s your goddamn pawn!” Daemon shouted back at him, this time rushing at Maul.
“And your goddamn slave!” Maul said, starting to meet him.
Just before the two of them could reach each other, Khalid forced his way in between them. He caught Maul’s fist by one of his hands and grabbed Daemon’s sword wrist before each one made contact. With a flare of his aura, he pushed the two of them away in opposite directions. “NO killing until you tell me EXACTLY what the FUCK is…”
“SHUT UP!” Daemon and Maul said in unison. With a jerk of his hand, Maul snapped his fingers into the air, which caused Khalid to stop in place, staring into nowhere. Daemon and Maul began to charge each other again when just before Daemon could reach Maul, he stopped in place, walking around Khalid as if inspecting him. “Hold on… Can you put Mufasa in charge?”
“Yes, I can, but…”
“All right, then. We’re heading back to the apartment.”
“What about those who…”
“This is the deal. We’ll worry about the Toc-Ra later. They’ll be back, so we don’t have to search for them. They apparently need me for something anyway. You know about the bracelet and I know about your mind control. We could call this a stalemate, but I’ve got a better word for this – alliance.”
“Quid pro quo?”
“Exactly. Between you and me, we’re going to set K straight… whether he likes it or not!”
End Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Her name was Ororo Munroe. She was a Black woman with blue eyes and long, white hair. There have been many times in her life she has been called goddess, leader, and weather witch, but no longer. She has her own life, now. Yes, once an X-Man, always an X-Man, but it was no longer the sole focus of her life. Neither was grooming the next generation of mutants. She wanted to move toward the next stage of her life… Marriage, motherhood, and a career. Her friends at first thought she was turning her back on the X-Men, but when they looked at it from her point of view, they understood. They had all had such feelings themselves from time to time.
“Hello, Rhiannon,” the woman once known as Storm said, never looking up from weeding her garden at her guest. Rhiannon was still low-profile as before, in her loose-fitting Levi’s and her Heath Ledger t-shirt, but she wore her trench coat. “It has been months since you came to visit.”
“This isn’t a social call, Ro.” Outburst said crassly. She planted her bo in the soil of the garden only briefly and sent a small kinetic charge through it into the ground below. It wasn’t enough to cause a large explosion, but it was enough to loosen up the soil and make Ororo’s job easier. “Let’s be straight… you and me.”
Ororo gave a slight sigh as she rose to her feet. She was well-familiar with the tone of Outburst’s voice. The girl was furious… and she felt that she had been betrayed somehow. “All right, Rhiannon. What is it you wish to know?”
“A friend of mine… Jean-Paul… He brought me a message from Tante Mattie. I want to hear it from you. Is Remy LeBeau alive?”
She stopped a moment before answering. “I do not know.”
“Bullshit…” Rhiannon said stepping closer. “You would NOT have said that unless you knew there was a remote chance he was alive. SPILL IT!”
“American colloquialisms aside, Rhiannon, there is nothing to ‘spill.’ Jubilation told me about a year ago that she THOUGHT she saw Remy… but she was not sure. Logan and I went to investigate, but we found nothing. No lead… anywhere.”
“You should have told me…”
“For what reason, Rhiannon? We were not sure. Considering that you at one point died with Remy, how would you have reacted if I told you he might be alive?”
“I would have checked it out… investigated…”
Crossing her arms, Ororo raised her eyebrows silently and looked her in the eye.
‘Okay… Okay…” Outburst said. “I would have said you were out of your mind and told you to go to hell for suggesting that.”
Ororo smiled. With a gesture of her hand, the wind flew down, pulling the weeds gently out of the garden, but leaving the flowers untouched. “It is so good to know you have not lost your sense of honesty…”
“Ro…” Outburst said quietly. “There is something else you need to know.” From the chest pocket of her trenchcoat, she pulled out the blue and red striped arrow with Jean-Paul’s blood on the tip. “Jean-Paul was attacked before he reached me… and killed…”
Ororo’s expression changed drastically when she saw the arrow. Unconsciously, the temperature dropped about ten degrees. “Rhiannon… You know what that is?”
“Yes… sort of… I wanted to make sure, first.”
“It is a Neo arrow.”
----------------------
It was just too much of a coincidence. The entire day was filled with just too many coincidences. Khalid’s doodling stuff in Pharaohan this morning. After lunch time, he snaps into a trance, traces the mark of the follower on his cheek, and then writes another set of riddles in Pharaohan. In the Danger Room, he performs the knife-throwing exercise of the Pharaohan Military Academy after seeing it only once… the LAST part he never DID see. Then, of course, the Toc-Ra priest’s attack was centered on him rather than Daemon, who was clearly the more strategic target.
Fortunately, when Daemon built Strong Towers, he had the foresight to put in a private elevator that went straight to a secret room behind the walk-in closet in his bedroom. As far as the city of New York knew, that was where the custodian’s closet was placed on each floor of the building. He knew when he built it that he would have to have a secret entrance and exit that would allow him to move unseen. It just would not look good for the CEO of an up and coming technological firm to walk through the front door of his luxury apartment complex carrying an unconscious world-famous pianist over his shoulder who outweighed him by seventy pounds. There might be too many questions… like why the two of them looked like they stepped out of a blender…
With Maul following closely behind him, Daemon stepped out of his walk-in closet and made a beeline for his training room. Like the Danger Room on the Hellions Campus, it was rigged with holographic forcefield projectors. He rarely ever used it in that manner, but he figured that one day it may come in handy. Its main use was simply an exercise room… a place for him to lift his weights and practice his moves.
This time, he had something else in mind. With a slight flick of his fingers, Khalid slid off his shoulder and dropped to his floor on his back. Even with Khalid unconscious, Daemon saw no reason to be gentle with him or to leave him any leeway. Maul glanced down briefly, just to make sure Khalid was not injured and picked him up by the collar of his shirt and set him in chair. “You surprise me, Gabriel… your necessity to inflict undue harm upon a man you claim to want to help.”
“As thick as his skull is? Yeah… right.” Daemon said, pacing back and forth. His agitation grew even more as they headed back over here. There were some questions that he just had to know the answer to… and it seemed like the longer he went not knowing the answers, the more he grew agitated. The blood was pounding in his veins harder than it had in a long time. It wasn’t fear… it wasn’t anger… but it was definitely something. “All right, Maul… K and I are going to have a little talk. You can stay and watch or you can leave. It makes no difference to me at all.”
Maul went to the corner of the training room and sat down. “I think I will watch,” Maul said, a smirk across his face. I want to see exactly what you are going to do… “Would you like for me to wake him up?”
“Yes…” Daemon said, turning back toward Khalid. He still was not sure of his feeling. It wasn’t disgust… it wasn’t pity… What was the feeling? “Wake Khalid up.”
“I thought you wanted to talk to…”
“Oh… believe me… I will… but I’m not taking the easy route. Wake him up.”
As before, Maul snapped his fingers. It was a callous gesture that in most cases would not be heard across the room. To Khalid, it was as loud as a thunderclap. The first thing that came out of his mouth was a growl, but then he started to blink with a red flash of the eyes and grow unsteady as if he were about to pass out. Everything settled down and he rose to his feet. “Will someone tell me what the HELL has been going on and why you two were arguing and saw it fit to punch me out?”
“Shut the fuck up, K… I’m in no mood for your shit right now. I’ve got some questions that need answering… but you don’t know the answer.” Daemon said calmly, as he pulled his shoulderbelt off over his head. He took off his tattered trench coat, dropping it to the ground. “Computer, seal the training room.”
Training Room is sealed and soundproofed.
“Fuck off, Gabe.” Khalid said, looking toward the Pharaohan. He tried to pick up on exactly why Daemon was acting more of a prick than usual, but he couldn’t make any sense out of it. “I told you before I’m not taking your shit… You dish it out; you better be prepared to eat it.”
“Dim lights,” Daemon said, punching his fist into his hand several times. He jumped back and forth from foot to foot a couple of times and dropped toward the ground doing a few pushups on the ground. Although Khalid tried to put it out of his mind, he could not help but think that Daemon’s silhouette reminded him of Sugar Ray Leonard getting ready for a boxing match. “You sorry excuse for a man,” Daemon said, jumping back to his feet. “Can’t do a simple thing like climb a hill.”
“Whatever, Merc… I don’t know what you are up to, but you can forget it. I told your dumb ass before that you couldn’t break me… and that drill sergeant shit was not going to work on me.”
“Fucking ball-less piece of shit oreo… delusions of grandeur, as always. Would like nothing better than to close his eyes and ears to the world playing gay ass music to the white audiences. Can’t do a MAN’s job… can’t be a man… can’t get laid… too stupid to realize your fucking cousin was trying to put you out of your misery when he ran you through.”
Khalid sat back down in the chair behind him and brought his ankle to rest on his knee. “You think I don’t recognize a game of the dozens when I see one? Whatever… You tell me who the Black community is going to call an oreo. The Black man who makes his living playing in jazz clubs or the rich one who dumped his then-pregnant Black girlfriend and goes around town with a White woman on his arm? Oh wait… what was the explanation? Oh yeah… She cheated on you. Yeah… sure she did… Are you embarrassed yet or would you like to go another round?”
“Oh…” Daemon said, coming closer. He grabbed Khalid by the neck, shoving him roughly against the wall. “You can’t hang with me, nigga… You can’t shoot… you can’t fuck… you can’t fight… you can’t do jack shit… I should have busted a cap in your ass a long time ago… eliminated your stanky shit off the face of your fucking planet. DAMN, you wouldn’t survive five goddamn minutes on Pharaoh.”
“Pharaoh?” Khalid laughed in Daemon’s face. “Didn’t you say that Pharaoh was supposed to be the cultural center of the galaxy or something? Oh wait… or was it that this cosmic-powered superhero – oh yeah, I know EXACTLY which one, too – was supposed to be the god damn PROTECTOR of the place? Guess he’s not doing his job. If Pharaoh is such a fucking ghetto utopia, then I probably wouldn’t WANT to be five minutes on Pharaoh.”
All right, Daemon thought, sneering back at Khalid. Good for you, K… Not letting my trash-talk piss you off… though you are hitting dangerously close to home. Better change strategies… Bunching up Khalid’s shirt with his hand, Daemon picked him out of the chair and threw him into the forcefield on the other side of the training room. “We use the weak for practice… and you most definitely qualify…”
Khalid fell onto his back and started to sit up. This was unexpected… What the hell was Daemon trying to do? Before he could move, Daemon’s foot lashed out, kicking him in the side of the head. It was enough to stun, but not enough to make him lose consciousness. He grabbed Khalid roughly by the chin, jerking him nearly to his feet. This time, Daemon was laughing. “Thank you SO much, K, for not fighting back. This is going to feel good tearing you from limb to limb… knowing you aren’t going to call out.”
“Didn’t you say you were looking for answers?” Khalid said, glaring his eyes right into him. “But you know I don’t have them?”
“You didn’t pay attention!” Daemon said, backhanding Khalid across the face. Again, he threw him across the room into the forcefield. “Computer… electrify forcefield…”
Khalid’s muscles spasmed as the current of electricity ripped through him. When he finally fell to the ground, he lay on the ground trying to move, but his muscles had temporarily shut down on him. Daemon picked him up from the ground again, holding him by the neck. “What I SAID was that you didn’t know the answers… NOT that you didn’t have them!” He held his other hand away from Khalid, smiling as it sparked to life with electricity. “Electricity has certainly been your friend, K… You remember out in Las Vegas what we did to that kid?”
“What YOU did to that kid…” Khalid said. Before he could finish, Daemon snapped his free hand so that it lay across Khalid’s chest jolting him with electricity. He laughed as he did it, abruptly ripping his hand off.
“Yes… what I did to that kid… save him… just like I’m going to save you… right here and right now… save you from your misery…” With a flash of light, Khalid lashed out with his photon aura, attempting to rip Daemon away from him, but only Daemon’s shirt was torn. Daemon laughed some more as he saw this futile exercise. “The richest part? This close to you… I’m completely invulnerable to your powers.”
“What the hell is this about? I know you won’t kill me… No powers if you do.“
“More points for you, then… I want some answers…” With another flick of the wrist, he threw Khalid into the electrified force-field.
His tattoos flaring, Khalid managed to pull himself away from the forcefield… With a burst of superspeed, Daemon came at him again, but this time Khalid hit him with a photon bolt to the eyes. Just because his retinas would not sustain physical damage from the blast did not mean that his receptors would be immune to its effects. Khalid’s powers automatically prevented him from being even temporarily blinded in that manner. (Unless, of course, he had his powers turned off.)
Using the photon paw of his lion-aura, he swept Daemon’s legs out from under him and this time threw him into the forcefield. The mistake he made before was using his powers directly against Daemon’s strength. No match. Since he used them horizontally across Daemon’s power, physics did the rest. He just did not expect Daemon to flip back to his feet and knock him this time into the solid wall.
“Come on, K… Use your fucking brain… you know who I want to talk to!” One gesture. One extended middle finger. Next came one super-strong Pharaohan hand crushing his and then a backhand. Again, he was thrown into the wall, and kicked and thrown… Daemon grabbed him roughly by the wrist and crushed it as well.
The growl slipping out of Khalid’s teeth only seemed to encourage Daemon. Another punch and Khalid’s rib broke. Next came a kick to the nose and another throw into the electric forcefield. Just before Khalid could crash into it, his lion aura dug into the ground and he stopped. “ENOUGH!“ he snarled, dropping to his feet. With a flash of his eyes, a flare of light shot out of a porthole in front of Daemon, hitting him in the eyes. Next, Daemon was thrown into the wall and this time Khalid’s hand was positioned on his neck.
“Your holographic illusions wired to my brainwaves do not work on ME, Son of Ra!“ Khalid snarled, holding a photon blade under Gabe’s neck. Khalid pulled his blade hand back, showing Daemon that it was not bruised or injured. “Unlike that pathetic Khalid, I am WELL aware of your façade!“ He stepped back, allowing Daemon to land on his feet.
“Mufasa,” Daemon sneered, his extradimensional sword flashing to life in his hand. “I have some questions… and you are going to answer them!”
“The King of Kemet answers NO ONE!“ Khalid replied, forming two photon versions of Pharaohan Sunblades in his hands.
“We’ll see about THAT!” Daemon said, charging Khalid…
End Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Prydesville, NY
Fifty miles ago, the two of them ditched the hovercar and drove out this way. At first Angelo did not understand exactly where they were going, but Joseph said they needed a place to lay low… and for Angelo to make some calls without fear of surveillance. Where they ended up going was not exactly the type of place he had in mind, but he guessed that it might work. “What the hell…” Angelo said, stepping out of the truck. “You have to be kidding me.”
“Not exactly,” Joseph said, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. “Let’s go in. They aren’t going to look for us over here.” The young man played with the keys for a little while before he found the right one and opened the door to the house.
Although Angelo had never been to this place before, he recognized the address immediately. Khalid’s house?! Why are we here and how the hell did Joseph get keys?! “Joseph… I want to know what is going on… Now.”
Joseph hung his jacked on the stairwell and flicked on the light switch. The décor of the place was pretty simple. The polished wooden furniture seemed to add a “country” flavor to the house altogether. The wood… the futon in the living room… even the bookcases. Normally, there would be a Steinway piano and a shelf full of music in the practice room, but they were taken out two weeks ago when Khalid Hunter pulled out of the public light and went to an unknown location to let controversy simmer down as to his miraculous recovery.
Still… Angelo knew that two weeks ago, before Khalid’s injury, this house had been virtually ransacked… but practically nothing was taken. It just seems a little odd that of all the places to hide out, Joseph picked – and KNEW about – this place… and that the owner of the residence just did not happen to be home at the time.
“You want to know what is going on, Angelo?” Joseph said, dropping down on top of the futon. He leaned back, resting his ankle on his knee, tapping his fingers on the wooden arm of the futon. With a gesture of his hand, he invited Angelo to sit in the easy chair on the opposite side – as if this place belonged to him rather than someone else. “Sit down.”
“No… I want to know EXACTLY who you are… What is going on… How you have keys to Khalid Hunter’s place… and where the hell my father is.”
“Fine. You asked for it. As I said before, my name is Joseph. You already met two of the other players in this game, Ernst and Sonja van Helsing. In case you did not realize they are cyborgs. In fact, their entire family is a clan of cyborgs. Their specialty through the years has been hunting werewolves… except a few years ago, they had their asses kicked by a friend of mine and stopped the madness. Well… they’re back and their cyberized, and this time they are looking to fill their ranks.”
Angelo paced back and forth for a moment and abruptly dropped into the easy chair, keeping his eyes set directly on Joseph. Although the dark-haired man was responsible for saving him from the van Helsings, Angelo still didn’t trust him. The guy happened to know too much. “Fill their ranks? With werewolves?”
“Yep,” Joseph said with a smile. “They have plenty of volunteers, but they don’t have the type of werewolf they are looking for. Without at least one of these werewolves to convert all of their volunteers, they don’t have anything… and that means that their prospective buyers don’t have anything. So, they are spending their energy to find the only four werewolves in the world known to be immune to silver.”
“What the hell…”
“Imagine a cadre of werewolves immune to silver… The only way to kill them would either be to shoot them through the heart or to decapitate them. Well… There are other ways, too, but I don’t think I’ll be getting into that.”
“So explain everything else… like how you know about me… how you got keys to…”
“Ahhh… Angelo… You aren’t too experienced at this. Better questions would be how I know all this stuff, how I knew about van Helsing technology, and why I brought us out here of all places.”
Angelo clenched his teeth. Something about this man was downright irritating. It was his cockiness… that was for sure. “For someone not even this side of 25, you sure are an arrogant brat… so self-assured… You said you were a friend of my father, but he’s never spoken about you and I’ve never seen you around.”
“Now why the hell are you going to go tell THAT lie on me? I know better than that.” Joseph said, sitting on the edge of his chair. “Now come on… Are you telling me that I don’t look the least bit familiar to you?”
“No, you don’t!” Angelo shouted, this time heading toward the door. “I don’t trust you and now you are fucking with my head.”
“Am I?” Joseph said. “I think the problem with you is that you are thinking in terms of my appearance rather than how I smell.”
“What the fuck?! How the hell would I know how you smell?! I never…”
“Not true, Angelo,” Joseph said, cutting him off. “And for your information, that voodoo bitch lacing your doorknob wasn’t the first time you smelled wolfsbahne, either.”
“How did you… Fuck that… I’m…”
“You were about fifteen at the time,” Joseph said, standing up. “Sophomore year of high school. Like every month since you reached puberty, you came home to see the old man into the den and lock him in so he wouldn’t hurt himself. That was the first time they came by… the wolf-hunters. These guys were pretty smart… out of Ireland, I think…”
“You can’t be serious,” Angelo said… “No…”
“Your father couldn’t smell it because of the cedar floor… but you could smell the scent on their clothes… Wolfsbahne. This is probably the part where your memory gets a little fuzzy… because you then started launching into convulsions on the floor. They knew damn well at that point they had someone with the latent gene… and all they had to do was activate it. They’d have their mark… Lucky for you, I was keeping tabs on you guys. Cut them off before anything permanent could happen… Am I ringing a bell, yet?”
“How the…” Angelo started. “That was almost twenty years ago… How… You can’t be right. I…”
“What’s wrong?” Joseph said with a smile. “I don’t look a day past 24? Not surprising. There’s a reason for that, although I’m not telling you. Don’t sweat how I got the keys to the place. That’s a secret. The thing is that you can make a phone call from here without being monitored… and if I were you, I’d call your friends at the White Hellfire Court right now and tell them what the hell is going on. They are your best bet to get back your father.”
“You have to come with me… and tell everything you know to…”
“NO…” Joseph spurted out… A brief hesitation and then he began again. “No… I can’t. I won’t have any involvement with the Hellfire Club. I’ve… known about their past… They might be better now, but they left a bad taste in my mouth. It’s just better I keep my involvement low. Anyway…” Joseph said, getting up. He reached into his pocket, tossing a set of keys to Angelo. “These are the keys to the truck and the house. I’ve gotta run… Trust me. Call your friends.”
Angelo stood for a moment as Joseph went out the door, thinking about everything that had just happened… and whether or not he could still believe it. The memories were fuzzy, but it was still there. “Hold on… how’s he going to get anywhere without the truck? We’re out in the middle of nowhere!” He rushed to the door to call out to Joseph… but the only thing he saw was a dog’s tail dashing into the forest.
----------------
Daemon vs. Khalid. Every time this scenario has played out, it wasn’t even a match. This time is different. “Mufasa” is Khalid’s previous incarnation, the last ruler of the lost Southern Kingdom of Egypt. The persona – as far as almost everyone knows – is trapped within the recesses of Khalid’s mind, a darker persona with which few sane people want anything to do with. He was something of a prodigy, his mind able to learn in several different ways, usually after seeing anything once. As a teenager, he was already able to defeat most of the men in his father’s army. Unlike Khalid, he uses his powers readily and fluently… easily able to access over fifty years of experiences over 5000 years ago.
That was the issue at hand – Mufasa’s experiences. The easy way to reach him would have been by having Maul snap his fingers and activate the suggestion. Daemon chose the more indirect way… in a way, deciding that the more gradual the polar shift, the more he might get out of this.
Daemon’s first surprise was that Khalid’s sensory perception was acute enough so that the superspeed did not throw him off. He figured out exactly where Daemon was going to strike and used the solid photons to counter. No, they did not hurt Daemon, but they were a solid barrier for him to break through… and enough of a distraction for Khalid to kick the extradimensional sword out of Daemon’s hand into the ceiling above.
“Lucky move,” Daemon said, kicking Khalid in the chin.
“Yeah… for you…“ Khalid replied, using his photon aura to knock Daemon’s other foot out from under him. Just as Khalid expected, Daemon continued to spin around on his feet. That allowed him enough time to punch Daemon on the underside of the chin to expose his neck and make a strike toward the Adam’s Apple…
…which Daemon caught in his hand. He started to squeeze Khalid’s hand, kicking his legs out from under him. Khalid dropped to the ground, but managed to lock his other arm onto Daemon’s elbow and throw him off balance enough to release his hand. Using the flare of his aura to help him, he threw Daemon away from him.
By the time Khalid got back to his feet, Daemon’s fist was already coming at him. He knocked it to his side to get a grab on the arm when Daemon kicked him in the stomach. Khalid bent over in time to get the palm of Daemon’s hand at the bridge of the nose and thrown onto his back along the floor. “Good strike… useless… but good, nonetheless…”
Khalid grinned, chuckling as he stood up. “For your information… the palm of your hand goes right here…“ he said, pointing slightly to the side of his nose. “…for a sinus strike. You are sloppy.“
Daemon returned his grin, this time his eyes and skin throwing sparks around him. Strands of lightning shot from the ends of Daemon’s fingers, hitting Khalid in the chest and knocking him against the wall. With a sneer, Daemon walked up closer, knowing that Khalid was effectively pinned. “First question, Mufasa… tell me what dealings you have with the Toc-Ra… WHY are you on their shitlist?”
Khalid strained against the electricity, forcing out a growl as his response. Daemon turned up the intensity of the current to emphasize his point. “Answer the question!”
Khalid’s tattoos finally flared yellow, cutting off the stream of electricity. The photon aura flared out, this time knocking Daemon off his feet. With a flash of light, Khalid appeared before him, this time kicking him in the chin and dropping his foot squarely in the chest. Under normal circumstances, it would not have even hurt Daemon, but this time it knocked the wind out of him. “Rule number two, Son of Ra… Know your enemy!“
Daemon grabbed him by the foot and threw him away from him. “Like I need for YOU to tell me my own fucking rules… and that is Rule number ONE!” God damn… not that shit again…
Sailing through the air from Daemon’s throw, Khalid managed to return himself upright… and rip Daemon’s sword out of the ceiling before landing. “Apparently, you do…“
“What the hell?!” Impulsively, Daemon rushed at Khalid with a burst of superspeed, in time to get a photon blast to the face. Next was a kick to the small of the back with the heel of Khalid’s foot followed by a two-handed strike between the shoulderblades. Normally, a strike by a man of normal strength such as Khalid would have no effect… but this time Khalid seemed to be radiating something else along with the photons, that was cutting through Daemon’s invulnerability. That was nothing new, considering it happened once when they fought before.
Something else a little subtler threw Daemon off guard… A sweep of the legs and Khalid was off his feet yet again, this time to keep the momentum going until he landed on his feet… only to be met with a fist to the face. On his back, Daemon tackled him. The two of them moved at once, Daemon’s hand sliding up to Khalid’s neck and Khalid leveling Anubis at Daemon’s neck. “You tell me NOW how you did that! That sword is bonded to my life force… No one can wield it but me!”
Khalid sneered, apparently enjoying this moment of confusion and hysteria from Daemon. “And do I not have a sliver of your life force?“
“YOUGODDAMNBITCHASSMOTHERFUCKINGSONOFA… How DARE you…”
“Know your enemy… You should have anticipated it. Even I – er – that pathetic Khalid never considered it…“
“He doesn’t know how to use a sword! THAT’S why!”
Khalid laughed again. “You mean… he does not WANT to know how to wield a sword…“
Daemon stopped seething for a moment, pondering those last two sentences. Something about the mannerism… He might be reading more into it than was there, but he had a feeling he wasn’t. That slight hesitation… Mufasa “correcting” him. “I want to know your history with the Toc-Ra… Now. I want to know what they want me for and why they wanted you dead… and while I am at it, I ALSO want to know how the hell you know Pharaohan battle tactics and how to get around the bracelet… and WHY did you call me ‘Son of Ra’?!”
“I have sworn never to discuss it except under certain conditions…“
“WHO swore you?! What conditions?”
“I will say no more about it… though I would think you would have enough information to acquire more on your own!“
Daemon released Khalid’s neck and stood up. Khalid also rose to his feet, this time handing over the sword. Daemon accepted it, sending it back to the pocket dimension. Yeah, he was pissed… pissed that he let Khalid get to a point where he could have killed him… but something else put him at ease. It was not enough to answer his questions, but it was enough for him to let it go. “Computer… unseal training room.”
Maul stepped out of the corner, munching on a bag of microwaved popcorn. “Congratulations on not killing each other. My favorite part was the blow in the back.”
“Hey!” Daemon said. “That’s my popcorn!”
“Delicious too… Gourmet brand. Interesting spice you have on it…” Maul said, eating another handful. “Mmmmmmm…”
Khalid started to reach for the bag when Daemon stopped him. “I wouldn’t touch that if I were you. This particular spice has been known to have a strong effect on Terrans… as in hallucinations and intoxication for hours.”
Khalid ate a handful and shook his head. “No… It’s weak. It was not sealed correctly on its transport from...” he cut himself off abruptly.
Daemon and Maul both craned their heads to look at him incredulously. “The effect is caused by the speedup in metabolism,” Daemon said with a sinister smile. “Once a Pharaohan acquires a taste and resistance to the effect, it is known to quickly catabolize most dietary fat it is used to season. It’s another reason for the lower average bodyfat on Pharaoh.”
Maul watched as his healing factor repaired the second degree burns on his hands caused by the spice on the popcorn. “Really, now…” With a smile, he and Daemon made eye contact. “Löwe – in this state – has always had a higher resistance to anything than normal.”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Maul?”
“Ja… I believe I am.”
“Let’s write up K’s diet.” Daemon said with a sinister laugh, leaving the training room. “He’s going to ENJOY this…”
End Chapter Eight
----------------
Chapter Nine
“Unfortunately, Rhiannon, all of the resident telepaths are out for the evening. I will do my best with Cerebro, but my capacities are limited.”
Outburst stepped around Ororo Munroe, hopping into the Cerebro chair. “He’s MY U… er… relative. I’ll get the headache.”
“Rhiannon, I cannot allow an inexperienced nontelepath such as yourself use it…”
“Ro… We Thieves know each other. Remy might be able to hide from you, but he CAN’T from me.”
“Why would he be hiding?”
“He tangled with the Neo before… He’s probably trying to protect YOUR behind.”
Ororo did not say anything as the young blonde fit the helmet over her head. She felt her stomach tighten as she watched over the young woman who had once been her charge. Although she had repeatedly said to herself that she was NOT a mother… and that girls such as Jubilation Lee, Katherine Pryde, and Rhiannon LeBeau were not her daughters, she could not help but feel that maternal pang. She would lay her life on the line for any of them… and God help the pour soul stupid enough to get in her way. Right now, though, she felt a sense of worry… and of dread.
She would feel better if a telepath were here, not only to run the machine, but to monitor for any hostile lurkers on the astral plane. Gamesmaster, Shadow King, and Nate Grey have all been known to attack while one of the X-telepaths were on the astral plane. As far as she knew, Rhiannon no longer had the formidable psi-barriers she had gained with her crow powers.
Even more disturbing was that she felt Rhiannon might be setting herself up for a fall. She was acting as if it were Gambit returned from the dead already and she has no one’s word to go on but a dead Thief…
“Bingo.” Outburst said, pointing to the screen. “Manhattan… the Lazy Divey Sports Bar.” Eager, she took the helmet off of her had and jumped out of the chair, elatedly hugging Ororo around the waist. “Thanks, Ro… This means a lot to me.”
“Rhiannon, I think you should exercise caution, I…”
“I’ll be fine,” Outburst said, forcing a smile across her lips. “I can take care of myself. I learned from the best.”
“I would feel better if I…”
“I don’t need a chaperone, Ro… Take care… and really… thanks.”
Ororo Munroe watched Rhiannon leave the room… more worried than ever.
--------------------------
Sharon Stokes entered the Ready Room, moving toward her seat on the end. She was a White Queen like no other before her… having broken damn near all the “rules.” She trimmed most of the wasteful expenditures from the White Court budget, investing the left over money in a monetary “emergency” account. She’s helped boost morale with respect to employees of the White Court, fostering a “warm” and “user-friendly” environment… She was nice and courteous to them. She was more likely to go to work in Daisy Dukes and a T-shirt than a Gianni original. Compared to the previous White Queens, she was decidedly more down to earth… and approachable. Yeah, she could be a bitch if the situation called for it, but she would rather the situations be few and far in-between…
“All right, guys…” She said, dropping into the White Queen’s chair. She brushed her hair away from her face with her hand and crossed her legs underneath the table, eyeing the two men directly subordinate to her. “You guys have any luck on the Grover-chase?”
Casey Jones stolidly looked at her and softly shook his head no. “Unfortunately, Sharon… We have not. Because Grover’s telekinetic aura prevents psis from tracking him, we had to rely on Feonix’s telepathy to read the thoughts of others. None of Grover’s known houses throughout the country show any evidence of use. No surprise. We had Alice run the utility accounts on all of them and they showed nothing. Wherever he has put himself up, he does not have it on record. He probably has the house under an alias.”
“I’m not surprised,” she answered. “I haven’t known him as long as you guys, but that sounds exactly like something he would do.”
“Just like,” Casey started, “how he would undoubtedly have money in another account in the likelihood Alice froze his account. She has traced virtually no activity on it at all.”
“Well…” Sharon started, “I know you guys are really against the idea, but I still think you should get Khalid and find a way to use him to track Grover.”
“Even IF,” Darque Feonix said, cutting off Casey before he could answer. “Khalid knew how to do what you are suggesting, I doubt that he would be able to function in his mental state…”
“Oh COME on,” Sharon cut him off. “This is NOT the time for that petty shit. It’s time for this thing between you and Khalid to end. Grover was able to track him…”
“The piece of the metal used to belong to him. Naturally, he would be able to…”
“Well… hello. Grover has a bigger piece of it. Khalid should be able to trace him with it.”
“I realize you are loyal to Khalid, Sharon,” Casey cut in. “But Feonix has a point. Aside from his erratic behavior since New Year’s and his habit of disappearing for days at a time, we cannot trust that he would stay focused enough to perform the task at hand… and with this recent episode at Area 51, I think it is clear his powers are running amok again and affecting his mental state.”
“I’m REALLY surprised at you, Casey… I would have thought you’d know better!” she started.
“Come on, Sharon… Seeing ghosts? Auras? Christian writing messages in his drawings? He even said that Grover was in full control when he ran him through!”
“Didn’t it occur to you he might be telling the truth?” Sharon said. “I know you guys might not have been paying attention, but he has done stuff like this before… and he has known things.”
“Yeah…” Darque Feonix started. “not to mention that he seems to be a different person every time we see him nowadays… and he’s still going into trances. I told you when he came IN that he wasn’t all there… I’d think after the hell you went through that you’d see the signs coming a mile away.”
Angrily, Sharon pushed her chair away from the desk and glared toward Darque Feonix. Both of them could tell she was furious. Feonix knew immediately that he had chosen the wrong thing to say. Her experience at the Weismann Institute for the Criminally Insane was one of the most painful experiences in here life… and to have thrown it in her face just to make a point was the height of arrogance. Once again, his mouth had spoken before his mind caught up. “Sharon, I’m sor…”
“Shut up, Feonix…” she said. “Here’s the scoop on what I recognize, since you seem to be so interested. I recognize enough to know that places like that don’t do jack shit except make a painful existence all the more unbearable. You know what they do? They dope you up, strap you down, shock you, and then dope you up some more. They don’t give a flying fuck if you get healed or not. They just want to make money off the state by keeping you there. Since you are so interested, let me tell you what I see in the White Rook… I see a man in a situation that no one can or really has tried to understand. Yeah, I’m the head bitch in charge, but I’m not forcing you guys to do anything. You think you know best how to approach it, then fine. By the way,” Sharon stopped, dropping thick packets of paper in front of both of them, with a copy of the letter paper-clipped on top. “Have some reading material… You’ll be glad to know that your friend Grover, whom you know SOOOO well, chose to compile different strategies on how to kill you.”
“WHAT??!!” they both exclaimed.
“And on top, you’ll see a copy of a letter that was hand delivered to me to this morning. Have fun…” She said, turning toward the door.
“Sharon… who sent this letter?” Casey asked before she reached the doorknob.
“Beats me… It could be anyone,” she said.
“Who delivered it then?”
She turned back toward them, with a angry sneer. “The Wraith… See you later.” She said, slamming the door behind her.
“Well I’ll be…” Darque Feonix, said reading over the letter. “The Wraith has returned from the dead? Again?”
“That’s impossible…” Casey said, apparently absorbed in the letter…
“What?”
“Nevermind, Feonix…”
End Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Maul knew there would be side effects when he used his healing factor to heal Khalid. That was expected. He just had no idea what they would be… or whether they would be permanent or not. He doubted they would be. After all, once the influence was taken away, what was there to keep it going?
The time in-between feedings for him has been extended… like the vampire virus that had been his bane for more than eighty years was growing weaker. Yes, his vampire powers have been unaffected, but the bloodlust has been weakened. It made sense after he thought about it… While possessed, Khalid absorbed some of the virus and started killing it. Even after he cast Maul out, Khalid was still killing whatever he absorbed. It was like… he was purifying Maul’s blood.
Just a few more times and Maul might never have to feed on blood again. Dare he do it, though? The first time was no question. Khalid was dying. Now is after the fact. Not that this was ethical, but at least the mind control was ultimately geared toward something. This was different. This was a step for himself. Khalid was removing the curse… but did Maul really WANT it to go? For so many years, that had been his way of life…
There was another factor to consider as well… His direct superior, the Grey Bishop. The self-proclaimed “mother-fucking badass” of the Grey Hellfire Court. Just a few short hours ago, he became party to this mind-control bid. What Gabriel Strong did NOT agree to, however, was allowing the vampire to corporeally possess Khalid… and effectively use Khalid’s blood to destroy the virus. He had to have already known about the metabolic shift in Khalid caused the first time Maul did it. If he had the faintest clue Maul was considering doing it again not in the interest of Khalid, but rather to serve his own end, this could fuck up everything…
Maul allowed a grin to spread across his gave as he heard Khalid mumbling and growling under his breath in the kitchen. Shortly after Khalid awoke from his “training session” with Daemon, he had been assigned to cook dinner. (Well… prodded with a few electric shocks from the bracelet…) Without turning away from the easy chair, Maul lifted his nose to sniff the air. Corned beef hash and cabbage… Khalid’s favorite. He and Daemon briefly made eye contact as Khalid came out of the kitchen. “All right, shitheads… Dinners’ done…”
“That was rude,” Daemon quipped, lightly shocking Khalid through the bracelet.
“Rude?” Khalid said, smarting from the shock. “No… this is rude.” Khalid said, shattering the coffee table with a photon bolt from his hand. “Considering that today you have nearly gotten me killed and then decided to give it a try yourself, I think I’m being damn nice to you.”
ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!!! “Crybaby…”
With a snarl, Khalid shot the legs out from under Daemon’s new couch, watching as Daemon fell to the floor with a grunt. “Lookey there, Gabe… Didn’t you just get that couch today? Looks defective to me. You might want to see about getting your money back.”
Daemon smiled as he rose from his couch. “Oh… Trust me… what’s coming up is going to be WELL worth it…”
“Whatever,” Khalid said from the kitchen. He pulled out the slotted spoon and started serving the food on plates. “K’s sick of this shit already. You aren’t beating me up again…” Rudely, he plopped the corned beef hash and cabbage on the Egyptian-print plates and half-assedly set them on the small kitchen table in front of Daemon and Maul. He started to serve his own serving, when he received a mild shock from his bracelet. “What the…”
“No, K…” Daemon said with a grin. “Your food is right there.” He nodded toward the plate on the counter… with the salad on it with a piece of lemon and a tablespoon of vinegar.
“Do I look like a fucking rabbit to you?” Khalid said.
“No, but it looks like you’ve been eating too many of them.” Daemon cracked back. “The spare tire may be long gone, but it looks like to me you’re still carrying a little too much on you. We’re gonna trim you down to size.”
“Like HELL you are!” Khalid answered. “I like myself just fine the way I am…” He stopped, momentarily looking at his midsection. Big deal… so what he could barely see his abs… hell… he already lost half his bodyfat. As far as he was concerned, he was just fine. “If I wanted to be skinny like YOU two, I’d have been born that way.”
“Who are YOU calling skinny… fatso!”
“I’m calling YOU skinny, Shrimp! You’ve got nothing to feed. I’ve got me to sustain…” he said, fixing himself a generous helping of corned beef hash and cabbage. “Besides… I’m sure as HELL not your personal cook!”
Daemon tasted the food, a smile coming across his face. “Mmmmmm… Was wrong about one thing, Brotha… This tastes just like my mom used to make. Did they teach you that in pansy school?”
“No…” Khalid said, “but they DID teach me to watch my food for your Momma’s gold tooth the next time I’m over for supper.”
ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!
“Don’t get me started on YOUR mother, K… She wore me the hell out last time I was…”
Before Daemon could finish his put down, Maul kicked him underneath the chair, interrupting him. He nodded toward Khalid’s serving… At first, Daemon was pissed, but then he understood Maul’s nonverbal message…
“Don’t crack on my momma…” Khalid said, raising the fork to his mouth. “I’ve told you about her, right? The woman has always had eyes in the back of her head. You never know when…” Just before he was to bite in, the telephone rang.
Daemon reached over and answered it. “Hello?” He jerked in his seat at the sound of the voice on the other end and then slowly nodded his head up and down. “Yes… of course… I’m sorry… You’re right… That was rude…”
Khalid bust out laughing, dropping the fork back onto the plate. “Now THAT’s funny… Gabriel Strong APOLOGIZING??!! And admitting he was rude?! Gee Gabe… what’s wrong… Sharon on the line?!”
Daemon lifted his hand to his throat, making a cutting sound with his hand across his neck…
“Boy, is he pussy-whipped…” Khalid chuckled toward Maul while watching Daemon nod his head up and down quietly. His chuckle dropped when Daemon handed the phone over… and leaned back in his chair. “What the…” Khalid answered, cautiously. “Hello?” His eyes flashed wide open as he registered who was on the opposite end of the line. “MOM??!! Yes, Mom… You’re right… I… Hey! Hold on… I can’t possibly know when you are… Okay… yes… I’m… Now hold on… You can’t be serious. I…” Khalid gritted his teeth as he glared toward Daemon. “Gabriel…” Khalid growled. “I’m sorry… Satisfied, Mom? Okay… fine… Night!” Khalid rolled his eyes… and then stopped. “All right… all right… Sorry I rolled my eyes! You’re not here! Okay… fine… we’ve had this conversation before… GOOD NIGHT!” He hung up the phone and handed it back to Gabe, his eyes boring into him. “Asshole…” Khalid said, eating… “Hmmm… I never noticed the taste before… something’s… funny…”
Daemon grinned out the side of his mouth as he and Maul made eye contact again. “How did she know what we were saying? Is all your family weird like that?”
The corner of Maul’s lips pulled into a knowing grin… You have NO idea, Gabriel! Maul thought to himself… trying not to laugh at the irony of the situation.
“She does that from time to time. You are the LAST one who needs to be talking about weird family, Gabe!” Khalid said, eating some more. His eyebrows crinkled. “Hey… Where’d you get these potatoes, Gabe? They taste different… really alive, I find. I like this brand.”
Daemon continued eating his food, the grin almost from ear to ear. “Must just be the way you cooked it… Right, Maul?”
“Ja, Gabriel… This food is delicious, Löwe…” Maul said…
“I might have to have a second helping of this,” Khalid said, suddenly he stopped, looking down toward his plate. His hand snapped to his mouth as he ran over to the sink, running the garbage disposal. Daemon and Maul continued eating, this time laughing as they heard the sound of vomiting. Khalid stopped briefly, only long enough to force out something raspy… “Mother-fucking assholes… you spiced my food…”
“Now why would you say something like that, Löwe… YOU cooked it!” Maul chuckled.
With a loud sound, Khalid vomited into the sink. Daemon came up behind him, slapping him a couple of times on his back. “All right, K… DEEP breath… and… go…” HUUUUUUUUURK!!!!! “Good spike.”
Khalid drank some water from the tap and started vomiting some more… “Prick… I’ll get you back when you least expect it…”
“Here K… Milk’s better, anyway.” Daemon said, handing Khalid a gallon of milk.
“GAAAAH!” Khalid said, spitting it out. “IT’S SKIM!”
“Yeah… So?”
Shoving the milk back into Daemon’s hand, he returned to drinking from the tap and vomiting in the sink… “Asshole…”
“Gee K… A couple of minutes ago, you said you liked the spice…”
“That was before it started burning me up from the inside…”
Daemon sneered. “Just wait until you go to the bathroom… you’ll know just how bad it gets… Now, to discuss your new diet…”
HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURK!!!!!
“Not one you were expecting. Pretty much, you can eat whatever and however much you want. The only stipulation being that – except for formal occasions – it has to come from this house. All the restaurants and delivery places in town have been informed not to deliver to the Penthouse Suite of Strong apartments.”
HUUUUUUUUUURK!!!!!!!
“You might also want to know that I took the liberty of using the Pharaohan Firespice on all the meat… and the really starchy foods… and the sugary foods, too… Keep that in mind, should you choose to eat them. The salads are pretty much safe, although you are allowed a slice of lemon and a teaspoon of vinegar for your dressing…”
HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURKKKK!!!!!!!
“Oh yeah…” Grabbing Khalid by his braid, Daemon tipped him backwards, pouring some milk from the jug down his throat. “Just so you know, it might be smart to drink the milk in this jug… I’d hate for you to get second-degree burns in your digestive system.”
Coughing and then vomiting again, Khalid felt the buzzing in his head and then his photon powers flare up all at once on their own accord. His legs gave out on him as he grabbed his ears and jammed his eyes shut, to fight the mixture of intoxication and sensory overload wracking his system.
“When the hallucinations stop in a few hours,” Daemon started, throwing Khalid over his shoulder and walking to the training room. “We’ll have a discussion about what will be expected of you in these training sessions…”
“You son of a bitch!“ Khalid forced out, gasping for air…
Daemon dropped him heavily on the floor of the training room. “Computer… Photon/electric force-field around designate Hunter.”
Forcefields have been erected… The computer’s voice said, as a red box of light enveloped Khalid.
“This ought to keep your powers from doing too much damage, K…” Daemon said, with a smile. “Have a good night…” He turned around to leave the room, when he was seized by a sound that altogether been too familiar to him the last few weeks. He turned around to see Khalid doubled over inside the box, his hands desperately covering his ears. The sound he made was a mixture between growls and near-hyperventilation. He writhed back and forth as his mind fought the assault on his senses, releasing a growing madness . Then, he screamed… a pained wail… He backed the rest of the way out of the training room, almost transfixed as he had an external glimpse of what Khalid was dealing with night after night since he stayed here…
Either he was in pain or he had a memory of intense pain. The only problem was… For some strange reason, Daemon felt guilty… as if he had somehow caused it…
End Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Lazy Divey Sports Bar
She could see him from the booth in the corner. If he had noticed her, he had not said a word. It was him, all right. It HAD to be him. There was no mistaking the shaggy brown hair, the flashing eyes beneath the Ray-Bans, or even his mannerisms. That was him. That HAD to be him. He even had the voice…
So what was she waiting for? When she started this, she intended to either slap him between the legs with her bo-staff or hug him. He had been a source of so much pain and joy for her. “Uncle” Remy LeBeau died trying to protect her… yet… he lived, never telling her the truth. He was her father… and he had ALWAYS known that. This hurt… It hurt very much… It especially hurt, knowing that she had to learn it from the wretched External cow who gave her birth. Candra knew it… threw it in her face. Never had she felt so betrayed.
Every once in a while, she had come to this bar. After all, it was one of the most popular bars in Manhattan. Hell… Everyone would kill for this food. She had noticed that the bartender – the owner of the bar – seemed to be a middle-aged man with shoulder length hair and a goatee… BLUE shoulder-length hair. It looked so natural. Some time, she had to remember to ask that man what he used to color his hair…
“Aaaaaah… Remy… How are you doing today? It has been a while since I’ve seen you.”
“Bonjour, Sussex. Remy been gone a few months, y’ know. Dat trip o’ mine take a long time. Remy wen’ through a lot o trouble to bring this to you. He hope you make it worth his time.”
WHAT??!! Rhiannon thought, overhearing this conversation. Please… Don’t tell me he is playing this game again…
“Provided you secured the sample I requested, I am sure I can make it worth your while. Shall we take this to the back?”
“Non…” Remy answered. “I tink it best we keep dis nice and public wit’ a large crowd to see us. Dey don’ hear nuttin’ that can be… embarrassin’. Don’ want you to tink you can get dis for free.”
The bartender placed his hand on his chest as a mocking expression flashed across his face. “Remy… you wound me. I always keep my word.”
“Your word say you pay Remy… You say nuttin’ about lettin’ Remy keep what he ask for. I know a man wit’ your very name who like to change tings on me. I learn my lesson dis time.”
“Returning from the dead can do that for you. Very well then,” Sussex said, pushing over a small box. “As agreed… The sample?”
Remy reached inside his coat, pulling out what appeared to be a small rectangular case with a vial in it. “Here… Just like you ask.”
Sussex picked took the vial, looking at it hungrily. “Aaah… another step on my road to…”
Out of the corner of her eye, Rhiannon saw an arrow bearing down toward Remy’s neck. Before she knew what she was doing, a charged card flew out of her sleeve, disintegrating the arrow on contact.
“MUTANTS!” Someone screamed.
“RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!” said another voice, inciting the already excited crowd to rush the doors.
“You fool!” Sussex said, shoving Remy off the barstool. “You led them right to my establishment!”
Remy started to get up when a photovaltic blast crashed into his chest, knocking him over the bar and into the shelf behind it. With a crash, the shelf tipped on top of him, dumping bottles of liqueur all over the floor. “REMY LEBEAU!!!” A male voice shouted, walking into the bar. His clothes were distinctly Neo, belonging to a member of the War Clan. Although his head was shaved bald and dotted with piercings, Rhiannon could see the blond eyebrows beneath the red, white, and blue face paint. For some strange reason, Rhiannon could not help but think that she might have seen those eyes before, but she wasn’t sure. Something was familiar about them… “You have been charged with entering the base of the Neo and swiping a genetic sample of the Domina… and the penalty is DEATH!”
“Like HELL it is, Baldy!” Rhiannon said, leaping from her booth. Two cards flew from her palms toward the man, intercepted by a small photovaltic burst from his hand. That gave her enough time to take out her bo and swing…
…when two more cards flew out from behind the bar slapping the man in the chest. “Girl, I don’ know you, but you better leave dis to the professionals. Dis don’ concern you.”
“Like HELL it doesn’t, Remy!” She screamed. “You have some questions to answer… when we’re done kicking some ass…” Her bo came down flush across the back of the bald man’s head when an energy cord wrapped around waist and jerk her off her feet.
“Come to Geiger, little one…” another Neo said, this one with a dark black Mohawk and a reddish-painted face. “A pretty one you are, but the Jaeger is already taken… Geiger will be glad to care for you.” The rather large man, caught Rhiannon in his huge arms, pinning her down. “Mmmmm… you are a pretty one, too… such a lovely scent…”
“PEDO!!!” She screamed, jerking her head back into the man’s nose.
A photovaltic blast ripped from Jaeger’s hand, striking Geiger’s feet. “GEIGER… Release the girl. The Neo have no business with her.” Before he could do anything a fireball ripped from the air, barely missing his head. It circled behind him, knocking him forward into the waiting hand of Sussex.
“Should you know what is BEST for you, ‘Jaeger’, you and your warclan will leave my establishment, NOW!” Jaeger threw off another photovaltic blast, just enough to separate the bar owner from him. His hands morphing into claws, he started to attack the bartender Sussex when this time a fireball ripped from his hand. “I’m WARNING you, Jaeger… Leave NOW! You Neo are no match for me!”
“WRONG!” A commanding voice shouted, entering the bar. Jaeger turned around, expecting to see his beloved Domina… but instead saw a young Black woman with long white hair. Her eyes lighting up, Ororo Munroe called on her elemental powers, filling the entire room with hurricane force winds and a hurricane. The bartender discarded Jaeger, turning his attention toward Ororo Munroe, when with a strike of lightning, she incinerated the vial in his hand.
“Ro!” Rhiannon screamed. “What are you doing??!!” Gambit grabbed her from behind, holding a charged card under her chin. Although exploding it in her face would not affect her, it was charged with enough kinetic energy to cut through her skin like warm butter. “Remy?”
“I don’ count on the X-Men, petite… You be my ticket out of here…”
“I don’ understand…” she said, not moving. “I…”
“What don’ you understand, Girl? The X-Men leave me alone because dey don’ want you hurt!” Unexpectedly, the ceiling fan above Gambit came loose, crashing down on the back of his head. Rhiannon instinctively spun around to see what happened, when she noticed that somehow… the bolts holding the ceiling fan had been detonated on a molecular level. Wha? She turned to pull Gambit up when out of nowhere, a strong arm wrapped around her, jerking her away from him.
“Behind me, Darlin’. Ro’s kicking up a fuss and you don’t want to be in here when she lets up and lets the Neo have their way with the bartender and ‘Gambit’.”
Rhiannon kicked her bo into her hand and swung it to the new arrival. “BACK OFF, Wolverine!” She screamed. “Stay out of…”
Wolverine caught the bo in his hand and jerked Rhiannon off her feet. “It’s NOT who you think it is… Your imposter may have tricked Cerebro, but he DIDN’T trick me. The nose knows.”
“TO HELL WITH YOUR FUCKING NOSE, I…”
“Do you think your Dad would try to slit your throat?!” Wolverine said, rushing out the door. “Ro called me after you left… and I checked out the scent on the Neo arrow. It may have been Neo, but it was that imposter over there who fired it!”
“How…” Rhiannon said, stealing a glance back… this time to see more Neo arrows spilling out of Gambit’s trenchcoat. “He killed… Jean-Paul? He…”
“He’s NOT your father!”
Back inside, “Gambit” rose to his feet, heading toward the door to the kitchen to escape before Ororo was about to let up. Unexpectedly, the kitchen door swung out hitting him in the face. He dropped to the ground, falling on his rear end just as a foot lashed out, kicking him in the chin. He started to get up when a metallic staff pushed his sternum down to the ground.
Two green-glowing eyes peered out of the darkness, centered on the imposter. An all-too-familiar voice spoke, fixing the staff on “Gambit’s” neck.
“You a cute one… an your powers are good… but you don’ have NONE of Gambit’s style. One more ting… You use my name or threaten my chile again, I deal wit’ you personally… and you better hope I beat Cherie’s mother to you…” With an explosion of green mist, the figure was gone… just as the tempest was calmed in the bar…
…and “Gambit” found himself alone in the bar with two angry Neo glaring at him…
-------------------
Outburst knew it to be the truth. When the gust of wind set the trio on a rooftop a block away, she tried her best to hold the tears in, but she couldn’t. It was almost as if the pain had been opened up once again. “Tante Mattie said…”
Wolverine held her, patting her on the back. “Don’t blame you, Darlin’. I would have done the exact same thing… Nice pheremones by the way…”
“Shut up you pedo…” Rhiannon laughed out through the tears. She let go and sat on the rooftop, allowing her blonde hair to cover her face. “I thought… I thought… I… was hoping…” she said, still crying… “Man, is it good Justin’s not here to see me now. I’d never hear the end of it from Phantom!”
Ororo Munroe sat down next to her, holding her like her daughter. Looking over Rhiannon’s head, she blinked her eyes toward Wolverine, motioning with her eyes toward the street below. He turned his gaze toward the street, slowly nodding as he acknowledged what she saw… and confirmed it…
…it was a lone man in a trench coat… slowly walking away from the building… smoking a cigarette.
End Chapter Eleven
-----------------------------
Chapter Twelve
Database: All Pharaohan Historical Records
Login: Tutankenhamen
Password: *********
Password Approved.
Range: 10,000 Years
Query: Mufasa
Yield: No matches.
New Search under same parameters? YES
Query: Terrans on Pharaoh
Yield: No matches.
New Search under same parameters? FUCKING YEAH
Database does not recognize the use of… YES
Query: The Southern Kingdom of Kemet
Yield: Four results.
Abstract 1: 5000 years ago, it is rumored that LORD PROTECTOR KAILON-RA (See LORD KAILON-RA) visited the planet Earth (See TERRAN SYSTEM). Upon reaching there, it is told that he discovered the Southern Kingdom of Kemet was threatening all of the surrounding regions (See TERRAN SYSTEM: KEMET REGION) and struck down its ruler, King Lehran, and set his half-Swahil son Ratiki on the throne. Some historians say that a tragedy occurred there that scarred Lord Kailon-Ra for which he never forgave himself. TAP TO DOWNLOAD COMPLETE FILE…
Abstract 2: Less than 20 years after his initial visit, Lord Kailon-Ra again visited the Southern Kingdom, this time to investigate alleged abuses against the natives by the followers Abdol and Sabat (See FOLLOWERS). After permanently banishing them and forbidding Pharaohan contact with them, it is rumored he mysteriously teleported to his personal cruiseship with a young Terran male. Historians question the accuracy of this account, however, because there is no mention of this ‘Terran’ in historical records. TAP TO DOWNLOAD COMPLETE FILE…
Abstract 3: Ten years after his second visit, Lord Kailon-Ra again returns to the Southern Kingdom to see it once again in turmoil, this time by the combined forces of an EN SABAH NUR and MJIMBE – who possibly might have been an agent of Set (See SET and TOC-RA). Some historical accounts say that the Lord Protector himself was directly involved in the campaign to rescue the Southern Kingdom. Others say it was actually a Follower. TAP TO DOWNLOAD COMPLETE FILE…
Abstract 4: Twenty-seven years after his third visit, it is rumored Lord Kailon-Ra had a dream of a Terran Lion slowly dying from a venomous snakebite while smothering a King Cobra to death. Serpentine vultures are said to have descended upon the lion, but before they could arrive, the lion sank beneath the sand, never to be seen again. Later that day, Lord Kailon-Ra wrote the renowned fable of the “Lion and the Snake” (See LITERATURE: PHARAOHAN FABLES, LORD KAILON-RA) and proposed the idea that the lion had not died, but had fallen asleep. In the public ceremony where he recited his now-famous poem (See RECORDINGS: LION AND SNAKE), he placed a pair of sunblades in the Pharaohan Royal Museum of Artifacts and had them cursed until the day “he would bring the lion home.” (See ARTIFACTS: SUNBLADES OF KAILON-RA) While historians generally agree the Lord Protector’s poem is little more than a creative exercise, they cannot deny that the ceremony and authorship of the poem coincides exactly with the fall of Mjimbe and the moment the Southern Kingdom of Kemet disappeared into Earth’s Sahara Desert. TAP TO DOWNLOAD COMPLETE FILE…
Daemon drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair as he scanned the files. This far away from Pharaoh, it would be foolhardy for him to download the complete files, because that would be like setting a beacon right to his front door. Someone down there would have to approve the download… Accessing the abstracts, however, was not as hard. Anyone could browse the abstracts if they read Pharaohan. In order to access the files without drawing undue attention to himself, Daemon would have to go directly to the archives on Pharaoh, himself.
Of the four significant files on the Southern Kingdom of Kemet, the last two in particular looked promising. Although NONE of them explicitly mentioned Mufasa, none of them exactly excluded him either. He HAD to have been on Pharaoh at some point, and it looked like Lord Kailon-Ra was probably his best bet on figuring this riddle out.
The last two files in particular looked promising, particularly the third abstract. It may not have mentioned Mufasa, but it DID mention Mjimbe and the possibility of him being an agent of Set. He did not know much about Mjimbe, but he did know that he was Mufasa’s arch-nemesis… and that occasionally Khalid would say ‘Mjimbe the Snake’ or mention the ‘Snake Bracelets’ of Mjimbe that were now apart of the Gauntlets of Excalibur. Mufasa died after separating Mjimbe from his bracelets and imprisoning him in another dimension. That COULDN’T have been a coincidence…
The fourth abstract also looked promising, because the particular work it referred to is required reading by Pharaohan children at the beginning of their studies. Lord Kailon-Ra’s “Lion and the Snake” was long considered to be a classic fable on Pharaoh. The three main characters were a man, a lion, and a snake. The classic literary interpretation was that Lord Kailon-Ra himself was the lion, the Pharaohan people were the man, and their enemies were the snakes. Yet, there were a few things that never fit and scholars just would not agree.
Coincidence? Daemon pondered. My ashy black ass…
---------------------------------
It was madness… a high like no other, released by the effects of the Pharaohan Firespice coursing through his system. It was a concentrated form of intoxication incurred, not by diminishing the senses, but by releasing them. No restraints, to his mind… his muscles… even his powers.
It was fortunate that Daemon had erected the photon field beyond the forcefield. The absorption of Khalid’s photon powers prevented his unchecked aura from doing any significant damage to the training room. It did nothing to help him reel his powers in… to reel his senses under control.
By the time Maul made his way into the training room, Khalid just lay flat on the floor, his aura flaring wildly within the confines of the photon screen. His muscles gave out completely about an hour ago… The wailing sound he had been making earlier had dropped down to dull growl. Maul crouched next to the field, peering at the man inside it… the man he knew had to be of his blood…
Khalid was very much in charge. That much, Maul could tell just by looking. The initial shock of the spice had taken its toll, but Khalid’s body and mind were still too overrun to process it. This step was described by Daemon as akin to paralysis, a gradual recovery of the body and a metabolic adaptation. Khalid was awake and probably would remember the entire thing, but it would take months for him to think of it as any more than a dream…
“If only you would listen to me,” Maul said, looking Khalid in the two reddish pools of light called eyes. “Then, you would realize that most of your troubles with control are a product of your mind. ‘Mufasa’ is not the separate and distinct entity you want him to be.”
As expected, Khalid did not respond. Chances are that his senses were in such high overdrive that he could not concentrate enough to form rational thought, much less reel in his powers. As if responding to Maul being around, the continuous growl slid out through Khalid’s teeth before pulling back… With a blink of his eyes, Maul knew that it was not quite so simple.
“I have been where you are, Löwe… a slave to my powers because I denied them… because I wished they were not there. You choose to forget… So much, you choose to forget… Not because you’re scared of it, but because you’re scared to revel in it. In the Wintertime, I had made progress. Once you felt what was at the core, there was no turning back. You tried, but you could not. As I told you, I can not make you do anything you don’t want to do…” Maul sneered. “Trust me… Not everything you did, I made you do! If you would cease struggling and let it carry you for a while, you would find your center… and all of your so-called mental problems would fade away.”
Khalid’s eyes blinked… and for a moment, he clenched his hand back and forth together. He was beginning to fight off the effects of the Pharaohan Firespice, although not enough to reign in his powers, yet. Slowly he raised his hand as if reaching for Maul and closed his hand, leaving the middle finger extended.
Maul chuckled at this gesture, taking it to mean that Khalid was not quite as far gone as Daemon had projected. He was fighting off the effects of the spice faster than most humans. Maul suspected it has to do with “Mufasa’s” exposure to the spice in the past life. In any case, this reaction was probably more mental than anything else.
Maul flicked his finger across the force-field, listening to the hum and vibration. “Ride it out, Löwe… what burns inside you. Then, you’ll get to Never-Neverland… and finally find the control you need. You were on your way for a while… making excellent progress…” He paused, leaning closer. “For the past six months… Trust me, Löwe… I know…”
Beyond the forcefield, Khalid’s glare changed… Although he did not show it, Maul could smell the fear radiating off of him…
“Ja… I watched over you, every single night, like a dark shadow. Do not be shocked; you knew I was there. A few times, we even hunted together… a deer… or a bear unfortunate enough to cross us. Even when you were empty-handed, you were satisfied, simply because of the hunt.” He stopped a moment, releasing a soft laugh. “You were doing pretty well before Gabriel put that piece of jewelry on you a couple of weeks ago.”
Khalid turned away, unable to look Maul down. Maul tapped the field with his claw again, watching Khalid cringe as the echo vibrated inside the field intensely. “Löwe…” Maul said. He struck the field again, waiting for Khalid to look him in the face. “Löwe!“ He said again, this time watching as Khalid was strangely compelled to face him. “I know your mind… I know your nature. I know what you seek and I know how you get it. You’ve already started the path, unable to resist. It is less turbulent with a guide. Consider what I say.” Maul stepped away from the field, starting to walk from the room. “While you are at it, you should be asking yourself how I know what I know…”
Khalid said nothing as the door to the training room shut. With the greatest of effort, he covered his face as if he had just been defeated. Then, he heard something that made him stop in his place…
The sound came from outside the training room, but his sense of hearing still picked it up. It was someone playing the piano… HIS piano… playing a transcription of Jelly Roll Morton’s… from one of his recordings with the jazz band the Red Hot Peppers.
Maul had a twisted sense of humor.
End Chapter Twelve
--------------------------------------
Chapter Thirteen
Niagara Falls
Cindy’s Café
He sat in the booth in the corner of the restaurant, reading the newspaper while eating his breakfast. His daughter and son both told them that at his age, he should be eating better. As far as he was concerned, at the age of eighty he could eat damn well whatever he pleased. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, biscuits, gravy, and the almighty java. Nothing like it.
“About time your ass got here,” Robert Cougar said, not looking up from his newspaper. “I thought I was going to have to pay for breakfast myself.”
Joseph sat down across the table from him, drumming his fingers across the table. “Oh shut up, you ol’ coot. You telling me you don’t have enough saved up to…”
“How do you think I ever saved money?” Cougar answered. “The waitress should be bringing your order out any moment. I told her you’d probably be ten minutes late.”
“You try running the equivalent of a double marathon and being on time.”
Cougar folded up the newspaper and laid it on his lap, looking Joseph in the eye. “Oh, you can handle it, Joe. You’s a young-un.”
“Last I checked, Roy, everyone’s young compared to you! Checked out Lil’ Zeke’s place. He’s got quite a setup… You don’t think…”
“No,” Cougar stopped. “It was risky enough giving you the keys to stash the Torres kid over there. Considering the way the past year has gone, it was risky enough sending you over there. I’d have never done so if he weren’t under armed guard.”
“I’m surprised you let that one go down.” Joseph said, finally receiving his food. “Not that I know Lil’ Zeke, but he does not seem to be the type who would appreciate something like that.”
“He isn’t. You’re right… He’s got my stubbornness all right. That’s not all he got from me, either. That’s why I’m telling you to stay a good distance away from him.”
“We’ve already been through this, Roy… the obvious reason…”
“At this point, that has nothing to do with it. He’s old enough. He knows what I do for a living… and knowing about you probably would not surprise him as much as you think… especially seeing that he can shoot light from his hands and talk like a demon.”
“Fine… point conceded. You told me you had another concern?”
“Yes… the vampire, Patrick Walsh…”
“WALSH??!! As in…”
“Yes… the very same,” Cougar said. “It took me a while to figure it out because Khalid interfered with my powers, but the man has taken an interest in Khalid… and I suspect might be mind controlling him.”
“Fuck… fuck… and you’re just letting it go?”
“Strange as it sounds… yes, I am. It doesn’t mean I’m not keeping an eye on it. We both know why he’s interested in Khalid. Walsh won’t harm him. Three reasons. The first is that he knows better than to cross me. Next is that Khalid might be able to permanently remove the vampire virus from his system. The third reason, we both know so I won’t get into it. As much as I hate to say it, perhaps Walsh might be good for him… provided the vampire can stay alive long enough.”
“What?”
“Before the sun got up this morning, I did a little slaying. Not much… Just twenty or so vampires that have been flying up to Toronto and feeding on tourists. Apparently, the Vampire Council is under the impression that the ‘Daywalker’ – Walsh – has entered an alliance with us, because of him being seen around with Khalid. Reeks to me of a set-up. Cherub’s not a member of the Vampire Council, but the man who converted him – Friedrich von Bonn – is. He already has something against Walsh because Walsh slew the rest of his clan… not to mention that since Walsh did not die, he’s more of a threat than ever. The order has been sent out that the Daywalker is to be eliminated.”
“Wait a minute… are you saying…”
“Yes… Walsh has every vampire in the world hunting his head to appease the Council.”
“Well… It might not be such a bad idea. I mean… Walsh constitutes a new breed of vampire, the healing factor strong enough to prevent death. He could very well wipe them out. If he started converting people, you could be looking at hundreds, possibly thousands of Daywalkers. You’d never be able to tell them apart!”
“You mean the typical human couldn’t… Walsh is not interested in creating a brood… of vampires, anyway. He’s the least of our problems. One of the projects the Vampire Council is working on is a delivery system to spread an airborne form of the vampire virus onto the population. While Khalid and I can destroy the virus before it kills its host, such a task would be impossible if von Bonn managed to release it worldwide. We’re spread too thin on this, Joe… not to mention that we also have the van Helsings to deal with. We might indeed have to turn to the Hellfire Club for help.”
“Not them…”
“I don’t like the choice either, especially given the past… but I also realize these are different days. With two grandsons being in the Inner Circle, I’m sure I can get some help.”
“You say that like you are proud.”
“I am… of them, anyway. I don’t know how we are going to go that route. It is risky having you too close to Khalid.”
“What?” asked Joe. “What’s the worst thing that can happen?”
“Easy,” Cougar said, finishing his breakfast. “He might recognize you.”
-------------------------------
She hated to admit it, but she was still pissed. Darque Feonix hit a sore spot yesterday when he made that crack about her time at the Weismann Institute for the Criminally Insane. It has been years, but she never really got over it. If it were not for Loki, she’d probably be dead… by her own hand. From time to time, she would still have nightmares of what she was put through. She was raped once before she went in there. Once she was there, it was a continuous drug-induced stupor where she felt like she was being raped over and over again. They called that therapy.
At her time there, she met quite a few people… quite a few truly insane people… people that raised the hackles on her back. Right now, she was not sure what bothered her more… that Darque Feonix would throw that in her face or that he would imply that Khalid belonged someplace like that. NO ONE belonged in a place like that. NO ONE.
She sat at her desk, going over the paperwork, trying not to let it get to her, but it was not working. With a grunt, she pushed the paperwork away from her desk for a moment and covered her face with her hand as she wept. She knew what was bothering her…
…it was the envelope on her desk… in plain sight. She had read it days ago, but she could not bring herself to throw it away. It was a letter from Richard K. Stokes… her father. He was planning on visiting. Why? To see Michael, his son… her brother… Her brother who remains in a coma in the hospital.
Right now was a mixture of conflicting emotions… one of them being that for six months she has looked after Michael… been near his side… Waited patiently for him to wake. Hoping… Praying… that he would awake. His body was healed, but he remained in the coma. Her father has come up about every other week to see Michael.
Not ONCE did he see her. Not once did he visit her when she was in the hospital after the rape. No phone call… no card… nothing. Not once did he visit her at Weismann’s Institute for the Criminally Insane. Nothing… Her life had been hell and he did not give a damn…
Yet, he tore himself away from work to visit Michael. What she didn’t understand, though…
Why even bother sending her a letter?
She was ripped out of her moment of utter frustration and self-pity by the phone ringing beside her. “Yes, Mrs. Hidges?’
Sharon’s new secretary spoke into the phone, chuckling with a pleasant soothing voice. “Hello, Dearie… There is a Dr. Graham on the phone to speak to you. Oh… and Angelo is here to speak with you, too.”
Dr. Graham? He’s at the hospital… “Mrs. Hidges… send Angelo in… and go ahead and put Dr. Graham on the line. By the way, it’s time for you to take your heart medication.”
“Thank you, Dearie… Angelo… you may go on back.”
As Angelo came in – strangely enough with what looked like fight wounds – Sharon picked up the phone. “Hello, Dr. Graham… You have news about Michael?” Her eyes opened wide. “Yes… Yes… I’ll be down there right away!” Sharon hung up the phone. “Angelo… you look like hell…”
“I was chased by werewolf hunters… Sharon, what did John say about Michael?”
Sharon’s face lit up. “He’s awake, Angelo… He’s AWAKE!!!! Come on!” With a quick gesture, she rose up from her desk and half-walked half ran to the door. “Mrs. Hidges…” she said to the 92-year-old secretary sitting at the desk. “Memo… Michael has awakened from his coma… Make sure everyone gets it. Angelo and I are going down to the hospital!”
End Chapter Thirteen
-----------------------------------
Chapter Fourteen
Daemon walked back into the training room to see Khalid sitting up inside the forcefield. He could tell by Khalid’s worn look that it was a restless night. Hair braided haphazardly… eyes dry and red (as opposed to glowing with the activation of his photon powers)… bad breath… and half-beaten clothes sloppily hanging on.
Hell… Daemon KNEW it was a restless night. He remembered the first time Charlie tried the firespice. That guy was unconscious for a day and a half. Khalid’s reaction to it was more mental than it was physical. It had to be… The “Mufasa” persona had no reaction to it at all. The stuff memories are made of…
The one thing he was not sure he liked was Maul’s interest in Khalid. It was no secret to anyone that Maul liked to push buttons. That was just the type of person he was. As far as Daemon could tell, Maul wasn’t happy unless he was pissing someone else off. For some reason, he had more fun pissing Khalid off than others. From what Daemon is gathering, Maul thinks by messing with Khalid’s mind, he can get Khalid to cure whatever trauma it was that caused such a split. Daemon gets the feeling it is a bit more complicated than that, although he is not sure how.
Why does it matter to Maul at all? Of all the people in the Hellfire Clubs with mental problems to choose from, why did he make Khalid his pet project? Something wasn’t connecting and Daemon was not exactly sure what it was. There was a reason…
“MORNING K, ABOUT TIME YOUR FAT ASS WOKE UP!!!”
From inside the forcefield, Khalid clamped his hands down on his ears to shut out Daemon’s voice. With a growl, he spun toward Daemon, taking his hand off his ear long enough only to extend his middle finger. “Goddamn prick…” he mumbled.
“WHAT’S WRONG, K? WHY YOU GOT YOUR EARS COVERED LIKE THAT?”
“I can hear you just fine, asshole… shut up…”
“OH… I GET IT! STILL SENSORY OVERLOAD!” With a chuckle, Daemon reached into the corner to pull out a wooden folding chair he kept in there. He sat down in the chair without taking his dark grey trenchcoat off. He took his sunglasses off, depositing them into the chest pocket of his trenchcoat and leaned over to sneer at Khalid through the forcefield. “I BET YOU I KNOW WHY!”
Khalid clenched his teeth, reeling as the sound of Daemon’s bellow rammed into his ears like a semi-truck. He wasn’t sure what bothered him more… that Daemon was being an asshole and doing this or that Daemon knew that he COULD do this? It was frustrating, in the very least. “Well, I don’t give a flying fuck. Can you PLEASE quit shouting your fool head off?”
“BUT K! I HAVE TO MAKE SURE YOU CAN HEAR ME! YOU HAVE YOUR EARS COVERED UP!”
“Shut the fuck up and let me out of this fucking cage.”
Daemon leaned back in his chair with an all-knowing smile, raising both his arm so the hands interlocked behind his head. “COMPUTER… DEACTIVATE FORCEFIELDS… AND RESTORE FULL SPECTRUM.”
“Full spectrum? What the hell does…”
Forcefields deactivating. Restoring full spectrum to training room.
“EASY K,” Daemon said. “I HAD THE TRAINING ROOM USE A HIGHER CONCENTRATION OF RED LIGHT THAN NORMAL TO PREVENT YOUR RODS AND CONES FROM BURNING OUT… YOUR PHOTON POWERS SCREENED MOST OF IT.”
The moment the fields dropped and the lights were shifted back, Khalid dropped to his knees jamming his eyes shut. There was a pained gasp when he moved his hands from his ears to his eyes… and then another one when he moved them back. “God damn… You motherfucking… I oughtta…”
“COME ON, K!” Daemon said, ripping Khalid’s hands off his ears. “Open your eyes… Let your mind get used to this level of sensory input.” Khalid cringed as Daemon’s voice assaulted his now hyper-sensitive eardrums. It was too much for him, the wall of sound hitting him all at once from every direction. Daemon jerked him back to his feet, speaking again. “Listen to me… You aren’t going to get a handle on this until you condition yourself to perceive at this level. So suck it up, adapt to it, and quit your bitching.”
Slowly, Khalid’s ears grew accustomed to the high sensory rate. Begrudgingly, he started to open his eyes, slamming them shut the instant it was too much for him. “Shut the hell up, you son of a bitch… You drugged me and this fucking high won’t go away.”
With a grunt, Daemon jerked Khalid’s head back by the braid so he could grab him by the underside of the chin with his other hand. Instinctively, Khalid started to grab Daemon’s hands, but was no match for the sheer strength. Daemon’s right hand went from Khalid’s braid to his eyelids, forcing them up.
“GAAAAAAAHHH!!!” Khalid called out, desperately clawing at Daemon’s hand and trying to shut his eyelids. It was so much hitting him all at once that he thought he was going to revert back to that state he had been in earlier. By this time, the buzzing returned once more, but it was not accompanied by a flare of his photon aura. Daemon gave him a slight electric jolt to temporarily stun his muscles so he couldn’t struggle.
“THIS is what I picked up on last night, K… Pay attention!” With that, Daemon released his grip on Khalid, shoving him roughly into the folding chair. He started to circle around Khalid like he was interrogating him. If Khalid was able to focus through his senses, he might have compared it to Christmas day just outside of Las Vegas… (MILLENNIUM!!!) “The way you’re acting, you’ve undoubtedly had experience with this before. Your senses – all of them – from time to time shift to the point where you can’t process them. You also – unless you’ve been exerting yourself more than usual – tend to lose control of your photon aura and it goes wild until you make an adjustment. Am I close?”
Fuck… he’s dead on… Khalid thought, listening to that assessment. He started to speak when Daemon’s hand covered his mouth. “Don’t answer yet… Let me see if I can get the rest.” Releasing Khalid’s mouth, Daemon paced back and forth in front of him, moving his hands in circles as he spoke. Each time he made a point, he would pull on of his fingers back with his index finger, emphasizing his list. “This is when it happens… 1.) extreme intoxication, 2.) extreme rage, 3.) telepathic attack, 4.) extreme emotions, and 5.) er… certain physiological conditions.”
“What the hell do you mean by ‘certain physiological conditions’?!” Khalid asked, his head going back and forth to watch Daemon’s pacing.
With a blur of superspeed, Daemon grabbed Khalid by the ear, tipping his head back. “The name Imani Faith ring a bell? Now shut the fuck up an pay attention…” He released Khalid’s ear and then slapped him upside the back of his head.
Khalid cringed when he heard that name, covering his now-reddish face as the embarrassment hit him full-force. Daemon’s choice of that particular name, not to mention the relevance of that example to the discussion, was off-putting to say the least. He certainly backed up his point; that was for sure.
Daemon continued his pacing, ignorant of the blush that came across Khalid’s face. “Extreme emotions, intoxication, and telepathic attack. You don’t notice it so much when it is your own emotions that cause it. You DO notice it when there is an external factor – telepathic attack and intoxication – that starts it. That’s when you get sensory overload. There… Now that I have told you all of this stuff about yourself – stuff you probably had never noticed – now you are wondering where I am going with this.”
“As a matter of…”
“Shut up. I’m speaking here. Now, I’m going to tell you WHY it happens. Your senses and perception are naturally at this level, but rather than function at this level, you dampened them. Psionic attack… intoxication… both weaken your defenses. As a result, the floodgates open and it is too much for you to handle until you adapt. The answer, of course, is to keep the floodgates open.”
“Hell no…” Khalid started. That was the last thing he could deal with. Mufasa could already come and go as he wishes. This was practically an invitation for him to go ahead and take over completely. He was already hanging by a thread. The buzzing at the mention of that already started growing worse. If his photon powers had not been allowed to run rampant through the night, his aura might have flared up on its own. “You have got to be out of your fucking mind,” Khalid said, jumping to his feet. He started to move toward the door when Daemon shoved him in the chest, knocking him back into the chair.
“I don’t think so, K…” Daemon said, this time with his hand poised on the golden bracelet on his wrist. With a sneer, he flicked his finger across the bracelet, which caused Khalid to jerk like his head had been struck by a baseball bat.
His muscles momentarily shut off, Khalid fell forward out of the chair, his full weight dropping onto the ground below. His head buzzing, Khalid pushed himself to a stand, brushing the dirt out of his goatee, finally realizing that instead of the granite floor, he was on what appeared to be a long-worn unpaved footpath. “What the…” With a jerk, he looked down at himself noticing that his clothes had changed… and that the area was looking strikingly familiar “GABE! I don’t know what the hell you are up to, but…”
Daemon walked in front of him, this time laughing. With a snarl, Khalid swung at him… but found to his surprise that his fist passed right through him. Daemon laughed all the more, this time stepping away from him. “Let me tell you one of my memories, K… I was running in my grandfather’s back yard, following a trail out the back.”
Khalid’s heart jumped as a realization dawned over him. The clothes… the area… it was Lyons Hill, North Carolina... his grandfather’s backyard! “Cut it out, Gabe… Turn off the goddamn program!” He found to his horror that his own body had started to walk up the trail against his will… the holographic replica of the trail leading a quarter mile out his grandfather’s back door. Even his thoughts were split between what he KNEW was going to happen… and his ignorance at the age of six. “STOP IT!”
Daemon’s image appeared in front of him, laughing again. “Oh… extreme fright… Your senses are REALLY screaming, now! Oh wait… they shouldn’t be. That wasn’t part of this memory… Well… Let’s just see where it leads.”
-------------------------
Sharon eagerly looked out the window of the limousine as it pulled up to the hospital. Unconsciously, her hand grasped the necklace with the crystal dangling from her chest as they pulled up. Although she was half-listening to Angelo explain to her everything that happened with him yesterday, the focus of her thoughts were really on her younger brother Michael… “So… this guy Joseph, who you don’t know, rescues you from the cyborgs and takes you to Khalid’s house? Just how did he get the keys to the place?”
“I don’t know… He left before I could ask him. Sharon… he looks like he is about 25, but he acts like he’s older. The guy claims that I met him about 15 years ago… I don’t know what it is, but something’s funny about that guy.”
“Fine… though there is already a lot going on, I guess it wouldn’t be too much to look into the van Helsings. Even if we don’t have files on them, I’m sure Alice can find something. She’s good at that. I just wish… Everything is happening so fast… and at once. I really needed this, Angelo… I really needed for Michael to wake right now. It’s just really good to have him around to get on my last nerves.”
“I understand… Well…” Angelo said, seeing the limo pull up to the front. “Are you ready to go in? I’ll be glad to check with John and see to the specifics. You go see your brother. He’s probably waiting to ice the floor the moment you come in.”
“I’ll be ready for him. I…” she stopped, a smile crossing her face. “I really needed this.”
“Hell probably have to learn how to walk again, Sharon… and use his muscles again. It has been more than half a year.”
“I know… I know… but at least I have him back.”
With that, they stepped out of the limo and walked through the door into the white hallways of the hospital. Angelo smiled as he watched Sharon walk down the hall toward where Michael’s room lay… but the smile slowly slid off his face when he saw his friend John Graham walk up to him, with that worried look in his eyes.
“Angelo… Do you have a moment?”
End Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
It was a beautiful fall day in Lyon’s Hill, North Carolina. It was a nice breeze, the way it gently tugged the leaves off the trees, sending them to the ground below. Two scents in the air foretold that winter would soon be on its way and that it would be a nasty one. The first, of course, was that of wood smoke. No biggie. The other one was not a particular object, but rather a certain taste in the air. Cold weather was coming…
…and Khalid was being forced to relive it. He wasn’t sure how. He wasn’t sure why. It was one thing to simply be forced to think about it. It was another dimension altogether when somehow Daemon managed to recreate the sights, sounds, smells, and even the very THOUGHTS… and force them upon Khalid like a bad spoonful of medicine.
“It was about two weeks after Malik’s funeral.” Daemon said, walking beside him on the trail, apparently ignorant of the cool weather. Khalid tried to block out everything he was saying and take control of his own body, but he was mesmerized, compelled to act it out, almost by sheer virtue of hearing Daemon’s voice. Part of him was fighting it, but it was the other part in charge. “Uncle Zeke and Grandpop had insisted on taking care of the older children while your parents and baby Stefan stayed back in Indiana to see that the house was rebuilt. They were particularly worried about you, because you had not spoken a word or played with anyone since the fire.”
“Stop it…” Khalid said, barely able to turn his head to face Daemon. “Cut it out, Gabe.”
Daemon disappeared, reappearing on the other side of him. “While Uncle Zeke and the other kids were playing out front, you felt this unexplainable urge to find Cougar. Earlier in the morning he had gone out the back door, presumably somewhere. You tried to find his tracks, but you couldn’t. Then, your attention was drawn to the trail leading out toward the woods… and before you knew it, you were on it. That’s where we are at, now.”
“Gabe… STOP IT… NOW!” Khalid said, still walking forward.
“What was that? Skip to the really good part?” With a snap of his finger, it was as if time sped up… until Khalid made it to the end of the trail, where there was a blinding light coming from a clearing.
“What the…” Khalid raised his voice now, this time the tone growing more insistent. “Turn off the fucking program… Now.”
“Whoa… looks like you blacked this part out…” Daemon said with a smile. His hand glowing a strange shade of blue, he slapped Khalid in the back, giving him a nudge. “Why don’t you go see what it is you missed?”
“No…” Khalid said quickly, this time his voice cracking. “Please… no…” A sense of warmth rushed over him, causing his senses to expand. He could hear his grandfather beyond the line of trees holding a conversation… even being able to somehow sense someone in the clearing. To his then-young mind, the warmth was intoxicating. He was struck with a mixture of both wonder and terror at what lay inside that blinding light… and why he had such a strong pull toward it.
“You didn’t know what it was, but you felt that pull. Something about what was going on up there was giving your little mind a buzz and you had to see what it was. You didn’t even notice at the time that your skin had taken on a faint yellow glow. You know what it is now, K… Why don’t you tell me what it was?”
Before Khalid considered what was happening or his situation, his answer just rolled off of his tongue absent-mindedly. “Resonance…”
“Exactly.” Daemon said. “You forgot this part… Whatever Cougar was doing in that clearing up there was setting off something in you, like two forks tuned to the same pitch. You felt their conversation ringing in your head before you got to the edge of the clearing.”
“…not sure if I can do it,” Cougar’s voice rang in Khalid’s ears. Unthinkingly, Khalid started pulling toward the end of the path… unable to resist the urge. “Tried and failed before, but the timing is just not good.”
“I know… I know…” the other voice said. “You broke the curse with Lil Joe. That was enough. I’ve lived with this for thirty years. I can live with it longer. You’ve got enough to worry about, with Shani and Malik rebuilding the house…”
Khalid stood near the edge of the clearing, barely in seeing distance. The intense warmth inside of him had begun to affect his sight where although he was blinded by the pulsating light within the clearing, his eyes picked up strange energy fields around everything. By this time, his skin had started to tingle. He had forced himself to stop, crouching down just outside the clearing. He would not be able to resist the pull much longer, but he did want to see what was happening. He was not sure how, but he recognized his grandfather’s energy field filling the area. Unfortunately, the way it was positioned kept him from seeing the other man.
“Don’t know how that is going to go. I called Walsh up in Ontario and told him what happened. He’s going to visit them, but I know how Malik is… We’ll see…”
“I understand, Roy… Hopefully if you pull this off, I’ll finally get to see these people.”
“Odd… my connection usually does not get so pure so quickly. It may be enough to counteract our previous trouble. Here it goes…” The sense of warmth Khalid felt grew exponentially to the point where it was saturating. The pull was too strong for him to resist any longer. He could barely think anything rational. He came to a stand slowly inching toward the clearing.
The other voice spoke. “Roy… What’s wrong… You’ve almost got it…”
“Joe…” Cougar said. “Get out of the circle… and drop to the ground.”
“What?! Roy?!”
“NOW!!!” Cougar shouted.
Khalid felt the warm surge ram into him, actually taking him off his feet. It flooded inside of him, further causing his senses to rage. The buzz grew to a fervor confusing everything to the point where he could not even scream. Although it lasted less than a second, the pain and the disorientation was maddening enough to shut down almost everything. The explosion of energy hit soon after actually throwing him backwards.
Although he was still lucid, the impact of the ground felt like a tap more than anything else. He noticed maybe about three things. The warmth and the buzzing were still running through him, apparently with nothing to get in their way. With the exception of his hearing, his senses were dulled to the point where he barely noticed them. Even his sense of sight produced nothing but a bright light. His ears, on the other hand, were still functional… WAY too functional.
“ROY! You okay?! What the hell was that? You’re lit up like a fucking Christmas tree!” He heard the other man’s voice say. “God damn… Is that Lil’ Zeke?!”
Next was the sound of something being hit and then his grandfather’s voice. “Watch your mouth. He’s fine and he’s got impressionable ears….”
Daemon’s voice cut in, drowning everyone else’s out. He started with a large chuckle… and then spoke. “Boom… I LOVE that part. So what did they tell you? You were struck by lightning?”
“Why are you doing this to me?!” Khalid forced out as Gabe went on.
“It makes sense, really. Like turning up the volume of the microphone and bringing it close to the speaker. Feedback… WHOOSH! Hell of a pyrotechnic display.” Khalid heard Daemon tap his finger against the bracelet.
As abruptly as it started, it was over. Khalid sat up on the ground with a snap, taking a moment to clench his fingers back and forth. He looked around, this time noticing that the environment had changed around him. No longer was this his grandfather’s back yard, but his hometown in Lehigh, Indiana. Now, he was sitting in the middle of a cornfield that had halfway been harvested. “What the…”
Daemon emerged from the line of corn plants, passing through them as if he were not really there. With a laugh, he crouched down near Khalid rubbing his glowing bracelet against his trenchcoat as he spoke. “That one was probably one of my all-time favorites. I should have allowed it to play out for just a little further, but I figured you had enough of that acid trip state last night.”
Khalid allowed a rumble to escape past his lips as he started to push himself to his feet. “How DARE you…”
“I’m only presenting them as I see them. You’re the one who’s been rewriting history, K.” Daemon said, with a smile. “What’s wrong, K? Can’t face how your life really is?”
Khalid started to swing at him, but this time he felt hands grab him from behind, throwing him to the ground. He sat back up, starting to get up when the fists started raining down on him. Khalid started to push back, but he couldn’t fight the strength of those holding him. He finally managed to look up when a tennis shoe came crashing into his jaw.
“This one’s a different type of memory. ISN’T it, K?” Daemon said, walking around in a circle while Khalid was being beat. “This one has secretly eaten you up for years, because you held yourself responsible.”
“Shut up…” Khalid sputtered out, another fist hitting him in the face.
Daemon crouched down, watching the action up close… The boys passed through him as if he were not there, focusing on their target. Daemon wickedly laughed, looking Khalid in the eye. “One on one, you knew their asses were toast; together, you couldn’t take them all. Then you were thinking… ‘Damn… I should have taken tae kwon do’ as you felt each kick… each punch... each wicked taunt telling you how you should have minded your place. You still hear that at night from time to time, don’t you?”
“They were assholes…” Khalid said. “They got what they deserved…” He was cut off by the crack of a rib and fist upside his head.
“Did they deserve to die, K?” Daemon asked, watching as Khalid lay on the ground, half unconscious… half riveted in the conversation with Daemon.
“I… didn’t mean to… I didn’t… want to…”
“You didn’t mean to… Now THAT’S rich… It does not make them any less dead, does it?” Daemon said, busting out in laughter. “Come on, K… here’s my favorite part… There’s that rage. You know it is coming. You couldn’t help it. You heard them arguing over whether or not to finish you off. You weren’t sure if it was the concussion, broken ribs, the internal bleeding, or blood loss, but you felt angry… and you felt those vibrations… that singing in your ears.”
“Daemon… please… stop it. I don’t want to go through this again…”
“Apparently, you need to… since you missed something the first time,” Daemon said. “Once again, it was your senses overwhelming you… ripping you out of unconsciousness… telling you that something was most definitely not right. You forgot this part later, but your eyes started doing something funny… the energy field around them.”
“Shut up…”
“Your nose told you something. You weren’t aware of what it was at the time, but your nose smelled something beyond the liquor… beyond the scent of their blood… and the cornfield… and that’s when instinct took over.”
Khalid felt it just as Daemon described it… and it happened just as it happened that time before. He started by throwing one of the boys into the back of the nearby pickup truck… and then disemboweled another one with a swipe of his lion aura. He moved quickly and decisively. Five seconds later just as before, their bodies lay at his feet.
Almost immediately, Khalid felt a warm surge of energy enter from around him. Their spirits entered him at once, their scream shaking him back so he was lucid. He saw their bodies at his feet and wailed… a painful wail as his photon aura flared out in a quick burst. He dropped to his knees, grabbing the sides of his head, still hearing their screams… and screaming as well.
Daemon again appeared beside him, undaunted by the flare of the aura. His trenchcoat barely flapped from the air current caused by the flare before it finally died down. “You realized it then and there, K… You realized exactly what you were. You could hear the wail of their spirits as they passed through you on the way to the afterlife and it was too much for you… WASN’T it?”
Khalid grabbed his ears to drown out their screams as their spirits inhabited him all at once. He staggered on his feet, a painful demonically tinged wail cutting through the air.
“It was too MUCH for you, K! You denied what you did… what YOU did… what YOU WERE… and that part of yourself that did it. Blocked it out, pushing it into the deepest recesses of your mind along with how you did it… and what you felt doing it… and when they found you the next morning with their bodies… they would never know any better.”
Laying on the ground, Khalid by this time was curled into the fetal position, trying desperately to block the memories… the memories Daemon so freely exploited. “Gabe… please… stop…”
“Stop?” Daemon scoffed. “You want to stop? YOU WANT TO STOP??!!” Daemon tapped the bracelet, this time taking a bluish glow. He walked up to Khalid, grabbing him in a chokehold and jerking him to his feet. “Because YOU didn’t know what the FUCK you were doing, I had these and a whole lot MORE god damn memories forced down my throat… and you want to STOP?!” He backhanded Khalid, almost snarling as he did so. “TELL ME what those spirits are screaming to you!”
“I…”
With a grunt of disgust, Daemon dropped Khalid to the ground and backed away from him. “I’LL tell you what they said, since you don’t want to fucking remember…” His words grew more biting, more strident as he spoke… ramming inside Khalid’s eardrums. “They showed you what had been done to them… They screamed for you to take vengeance on their behalf.”
“Stop… Please…”
“Their spirits screamed inside of you… calling out that rage you buried… and forced you to take a good look at your handiwork.”
As Daemon dictated, Khalid rolled back to his knees, still hearing their screams… the buzzing… the pain… everything at once. Through it all, he looked one in the face and saw them.
Fangs.
“They were already dead, Khalid… Killed by the person who converted them. You know why they were sent after you? DO you?”
Khalid stared, dumbfounded. He blacked it out. He blacked all of this out. “No… I don’t…” He found himself saying, more to himself than to Daemon.
“The vampire who converted them had sent them to kill you, simply because you were Cougar’s grandson… and as they knew the one who inherited his gifts. Get rid of you, they get rid of a future threat.”
Khalid just stared… looking at the corpses’ mouth.
“Didn’t it ever OCCUR to you why there was no real investigation?! The government stepped in with one of their pet telepaths and put the kibosh on it. How ELSE do you think they were able to build a file on you?”
“Wha…”
“The only reason the feds left you alone, K, was because Cougar beat them to you and made you forget that minor detail and deactivated your powers. Although the feds KNEW you killed those vampires, they could not prove it… According to the ‘Intelligence’ file I browsed through, the X-Factor was not present on your gene scan. Without proof you had powers, they could not immediately draft you into one of their hound programs like they wanted. They had to walk away.”
With that, Daemon tapped the bracelet, deactivating the holograms. Khalid watched as the environmental replica of the outskirts of his hometown faded away, revealing the familiar walls and floor of the training room. Khalid rose to his feet, about to head for the door silently when he noticed that his skin had a really strange bluish glow and that his clothing was still the same. “What the…” He turned to face Daemon when he saw it…
His body was sitting in the folding chair behind Daemon, asleep. The bracelet on both his and Daemon’s wrists were glowing the same shade of blue his skin was. “Holy fuck…”
Khalid looked down at himself, seeing the shimmering blue light and knew. He was a hologram.
End Chapter Fifteen
----------------------------------
Chapter Sixteen
“John, you can’t be serious. People get paralyzed all the time. But with what you are suggesting…”
“This pathogen – whatever it is – has recircuited his nervous system. It’s like nothing we’ve seen before. The pathways from his brain to his vital organs are healthy and acting normally. According to the readings, his brain has been going through the normal cyclic patterns. It’s the other pathways, particularly to his musculo-skeletal system that have not been normal.”
“What do you MEAN not normal? Explain?” Dr. John Graham handed the clipboard to Angelo so he could see the results for himself. “What?!”
“You read it correctly, Angelo. The neurons travel from stimulus to the central nervous system, but they do not travel back. If I were to rip that kid’s arm open, he would be able to feel it… but despite his best attempts, he would not be able to jerk his arm.”
“Trapped forever in a living prison of flesh…” Angelo half-mumbled. “But he’s awakened…”
“The reason he awoke…” John stopped himself, glancing from side to side as if to make sure no one was in ear shot. Grabbing Angelo by the arm, he led him closer to the wall where he could speak softly. “He awoke because one of our nurses – a regenerative mutant – attempted to use her power on him as strongly as she could. The woman passed out from the effort, but she did succeed in partially reconstructing part of the pathway in the brain. It is too risky to have her try that number again and you keep this between you and me… She can do a lot of good right here where she is helping to save lives.”
Angelo stole a glance at the hospital room watching from afar as Sharon and her brother Michael hugged. Sharon was hurting, but she hid it well underneath her now-purple hair. Over six months… over six months her brother has been a prisoner of his own body, unable to speak, communicate, or even allow telepathic communication. Angelo felt a pang of hurt and empathy… as well as being so involved in his problems he didn’t think about everyone else’s. “She obviously freed up enough of the pathway so that Michael can at least talk and move his facial muscles. I don’t think it is a hopeless cause.”
“Angelo, there is nothing more we can do for him. She refuses to go near him… and despite all the money that kid’s sister and father is putting forward, the hospital is not going to let him stay much longer.”
“I’ll take care of that kid. I was almost done with the neurology major before I get screwed over.”
“I know… it’s because of you I got through school.”
“An old process I worked out about seven or so years ago might actually help him… We’ll see. Go ahead and check the kid out. I’ll talk with him and his sister… and break it to them.”
“I can…”
“No… I’m their friend… and I’m as capable of answering their questions as you are. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
------------------------------------
“What the hell have you done,” Khalid said to Daemon, more in disbelief than anything else. His gaze was locked onto the form he had taken… a holographic replica of himself…
Safe in the knowledge that Khalid’s holographic eyes could not completely pierce the darkness of the training room, Daemon allowed a smile to come across his face. The only source of light in the room came from the bracelets on both his and the real Khalid’s wrists, as well as from the holographic projection. It was not terribly effective in lighting up the room, at best acting like blue illuminous paint rather than electrical constructs. There was just enough light to see Daemon’s silhouette and Khalid’s, slumped in the chair.
Daemon stepped forward, bringing his hand close to his wrist with the luminous bracelet up to his face so “Khalid” could see the dark sneer across his face. “As you are well aware, the bracelet on your wrist is wired to the same frequency as your brainwaves. That’s how I zap the hell out of you should you do something stupid. The secondary function of the bracelet – should I decide – is to create illusions only you can sense. Because of this dual function, it is called a Neuron Holographic Projector. This one just happens to be the souped-up version, more powerful than even the brands outlawed in the Dolaxian, Kythran, Deluchian, Mmraph-whatever, Poppuppian, and Oolian systems. Neat toy, isn’t it?”
“Motherfucking…”
“This personalized version of mine has a variety of options – some of them being, of course, to short circuit the brains neural pathways, induce sleep paralysis, and trigger REM sleep. Once you were there, I used my Control Key to manipulate your brainwaves, forcing you to relive memories that I picked up. Finally, I created a two-way transmitter loop between the bracelet and the training room. That means everything going inside your head is projected here and everything projected here is sent back to your head. In the end, your brain interprets it as your consciousness being projected into the hologram… when you have actually never left your chair.”
“You motherfucking son of a bitch…” Khalid shouted, leaping at Daemon, but passing through him. “How DARE you…”
“How’s THAT, K?” Daemon said. Khalid dropped to his knees, as the senses overwhelmed him. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t real, but he couldn’t. He screamed, covering his ears and shutting his eyes. Daemon crouched down next to him, speaking softly… but enunciating very clearly. “How dare I? You were the one reconstructing reality, K. You should be asking yourself that question. You need to be able to recognize events as they really are rather than mere ILLUSIONS that you or someone else conjures up. To do that, you need to take a good hard look at what it is that has shaped who you are today. I’m making you relive every moment… every thought… every feeling… analyzing every bit of it. I know your head, Khalid. You dragged me into it and I’m showing you what I see.”
“I didn’t ASK for your fucking input! If I want to take a tour, that’s my choice… but I sure as hell am not going to have some self-righteous…” He cringed as his senses were turned up even further, not knowing just how much he could take. The growl rumbled out of the back of his throat as he fought to push them back down.
“Until I deactivate this program, you have no power… no control. I control what you see… hear… and feel. You’re fortunate I’m choosing YOUR memories to go through. You couldn’t handle mine.”
“Stop… Just… stop…” Khalid said, covering his ears.
“What’s wrong, Son? Upset you can’t point at Mufasa and say ‘He did it!’? Can’t accept the idea that when it comes down to it, you and Mufasa are EXACTLY the same.”
“No… no…”
“I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, K. It’s all in there, but you just don’t want to see it. Mufasa CAN’T take over because you ARE Mufasa. ADMIT it! You two are one and the same!”
“Shut up…”
“He’s just more honest about it.”
“Shut your goddamn mou…”
“You asking for goddamn proof?”
With a tap of the bracelet, the environment changed yet again. This time, Khalid could hear sounds assaulting him from every direction; feel the shift of current in the room; smell a variety of smells. Perfume… bodyscents… Italian food…
Daemon walked up beside him almost shouting in his ear. “What is it you are feeling NOW, K?!”
“Don’t you DARE…” Khalid said, the level of sensory input once again too much for him. He tried to trick his mind, to make it forget just how vivid everything hit him and how it affected him at the time, but it would not go. This time had been overwhelming, so strong that it had been intoxicating.
“Her NAME was Imani Faith. This was supposed be your last date.” Daemon said, still barking at him. “A farewell date. Have a good time and then break it off. You both knew you weren’t compatible. You were about to make it official, but you smelled something from her.”
“Stop… Daemon… STOP!” Khalid said, trying to fight it. “It’s not real… It’s not…”
“WRONG, K…” Daemon shouted again, watching Khalid about bowl over from that alone. “It’s ALL real… Your feelings… your temperament… your memories. ALL of it.”
“Khalid… are you okay?” the hologram of Imani said, touching his arm.
Daemon’s eyes raised up, glancing up and down over Imani’s form. He stepped back, keeping the level of his voice high, knowing that it would mess with Khalid’s senses even further. “MmmmmMMMMM… Oh yeah… You were overrun with your senses, having trouble controlling them. DAMN, she’s fine. Selfish and spoiled… but fine. TOO fine for someone like you. This goes back to what I said about certain physiological conditions.”
Khalid jerked Imani into him, planting a kiss savagely on her mouth. At first she resisted his advances, struggling to pull away from the vice grip he had her arm in, but then she slowed down. Khalid’s free hand pulled her tightly against him pressing their bodies together.
“When you forced that kiss on her and she started kissing you back, you knew you had control of her. That bitch was yours and you wanted some ass.”
His hands half undressing, half ripping her dress off, Khalid pulled his mouth off of hers, snarling as he moved toward her neck. “END it, Gabe… NOW!” he barely got out, before her hands drew the back of his head lower, tracing down her newly bared shoulder. With a loud ripping sound, Khalid’s face was obscured by her back and the remainder of the dress fell down around her ankles.
“Doesn’t look like you want it to end, K… Looks like you’re milking this for all it is worth.” Daemon said. “Well… at least like you’re milking something, anyway…” He cringed when he heard Imani make a slightly pained gasp. “What the hell are you doing… EATING the poor woman?!” Daemon shouted, his glance traveling toward Imani’s rear again. “HOT DAMN… she wore black thong underwear??!!” His head jerked back as he heard a snap and saw the black lace slip gracefully down her leg. “Well… she was, anyway…”
Khalid growled again, this time pushing Imani to the floor. “CUT IT OFF!!!”
“Mmmmmm…” Daemon said, his focus on Imani’s chest. “Bigguns… No wonder you spent a lot of time up there. Hey… She have a sister?”
“TURN OFF THE FUCKING PROGRAM!” Khalid said, his hands forcefully holding Imani in position.
“K, you have it all mixed up. All the program is doing is doing is interpreting your memories of fucking. The program ITSELF is not fucking. Besides… Didn’t your mama ever tell you it was rude to talk with your mouth full?”
“You son of a…” Khalid got out before his mouth was occupied again.
“You’re right… stupid me… Technically, I think this still constitutes foreplay. How could I be so careless, K? Oh wait… here it comes…” Daemon clapped as Imani lay back, groaning throatily and loudly. “Good upper body strength, K. Didn’t even have to move your mouth as you picked her up. Surprised you were able to support her back like that for so long. You paid for it with sore arms the rest of the week.”
Khalid’s growl came out muffled. “You made… your p…”
“No speaking until you brush, floss, and use plenty of mouthwash.”
“GABE… please… cut it…”
“Good idea… If memory serves me right, you’re about to start ripping off your clothes… and I REALLY don’t want to see that!”
With that, the entire environment faded away, this time taking the hologram of Khalid with it. Daemon tapped the bracelet another time, deactivating the sleep paralysis. Groggily, Khalid’s head tipped back just before he regained consciousness, his jaw moving back and forth. It then nodded forward, jerking with a snap as he finally woke and fixed his eyes on Daemon, who was standing a few feet away
At first, Khalid growled, but then he pulled it back. Daemon said nothing as Khalid stood up, half drunk in his still-hyper senses. Khalid snarled at him again, this time glaring him in the eyes. Daemon met his glare with a cold one of his own. “Be objective, K…” Daemon said, loud enough that he knew his voice assaulted Khalid’s ears. “Consider what you are thinking and feeling RIGHT now… The way you are acting. There’s a reason it comes to you so easily. Why don’t you find out why that is rather than sticking your head in the sand? If you aren’t going to listen to Maul, how about listening to yourself?”
Khalid grabbed Daemon by the trenchcoat, picking him up into the air, still snarling and glaring him in the eye. Daemon’s expression remained as emotionless as before. Daemon could tell by the scent that Khalid was still in charge, though something had shifted. Khalid set him down, the inhuman rumble still coming from his throat. His voice gruff and strained, he finally spoke. “You are a fucking monster.” With that, Khalid released his grip on Daemon and walked quietly toward the door.
With a slight flare of electricity, Daemon’s trenchcoat, wrinkled by Khalid picking him up, smoothed out. Still directed with his back to the door, he spoke loud enough for his voice to ring in Khalid’s ears. “Yeah? Then what does that make you?”
Khalid jerked to a stop in the doorway… and then silently continued out without turning around.
End Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Egypt
Tom Vargas was chasing a dream. It was a dream that he had ever since the old days of sitting in his father’s library engrossed in his stories of Ancient Egypt. As far as modern Egyptology went, the Eye of Ra was more of a concept than an actual object. It was supposed to represent power untold… inconceivable to man and mankind alike. Some Egyptologists had attempted to personify it in the form of a murderous woman with a leonine head… the daughter of Ra himself who on his word embarked on a bloody rampage through man and man alike. Others had said that it was not Ra’s daughter, but rather his mistress transformed, never to regain her original form until she had made amends for her deeds.
Tom Vargas had a very DIFFERENT theory… a theory shaped by years of careful study and learning what he could alongside of archeological digs. He suspected that the myth of Ra was NOT myth. His origin? He was not sure. The Eye of Ra was – as Tom believed – an actual object… the centerpiece of ceremony for those who would worship Ra, presented by Ra himself. Tom has sacrificed everything in his life – his marriage, his livelihood, his career – to prove to himself… to the world what he believes in his heart.
Three Hieroglyphic tablets were lined up side by side on the table, each gently brushed to remove the sand and grime that had covered them. The first one, Vargas had already transcribed more than a year ago. It had stated almost explicitly where the Eye was. The problem, of course, was that the Eye was not sitting where it was supposed to! Someone – he did not know who – had moved it replacing it with two tablets in a dialect he did not understand… YET anyway. From what he could tell, it seemed to be a message of some sort… possibly to Ra himself? He was not sure. What was shocking was how it was inscribed. Considering how smooth the individual characters were… and how sharp their edges were, it couldn’t have been done with any traditional metallic blade.
“Ah, Thomas!” a heavy accent said, entering through the door. Tom looked up from his study of the tablets, seeing the elderly Middle-Eastern man walk in, flanked on the side by what appeared to be his son. “I had heard about the discovery and just had to meet with you.”
“Aaaaaah… Professor… come in…”
“Please, as I told you before… We are colleagues, now. Call me Anwar. This is my son, Seth.”
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, shaking Seth’s hand. “Please, sit down.” Tom said, nodding toward a folding chair at the end of the table. “We will be set to go to the temple in a few weeks. I have not completely transcribed these tablets yet, but from what I’m hoping we might be able to find another lead on the Eye there. I’m glad you came by, Prof – Anwar. I was hoping you might be able to give me some input. Have you ever seen writing like this, before?”
The old man leaned over, lifting his bifocals up from the bridge of his nose as he looked. He solemnly shook his head and sat back in his chair. “I am afraid not. That is a dialect I have never seen. The syntax itself is bizarre… not to mention the manner of engravement. Where did you run across these?”
“Where the first tablet said that Eye was supposed to be. It looks like someone had removed the Eye and left these tablets as a message… possibly to Ra himself. I won’t know until I have cracked the code.”
Engrossed in the tablets, Tom did not notice the old man ball his hand into a fist… digging his nails into his palm until blood dripped to the ground below, making a slight hissing noise as it evaporated. The old man opened up his hand again, the wounds healing almost as quickly as they were made. “You are going to have to keep me informed on this. The University of Alexandria is truly pleased with your work, proud to finance it. A tenure track position is waiting for you when it is completed.”
“A gesture which is very much appreciated. We are growing ever closer.”
“I would love to stay and chat, Thomas, but I have a lecture to prepare for. Please keep me apprised of future progress.”
“As always… By the way, how is Matthew doing?”
“Mr. Flisken? I have not heard from him since he left for the University of Cambridge. I will talk with my colleagues there and see what he is up to. Until later, I wish you luck.”
“Thank you.”
With that, the old man and his son left the tent, moving toward the helicopter they had arrived in. With the motor on and blowing sand in their faces, they finally started to speak, safe that no one would be able to hear them.
“So, what do you think, Anwar?”
“Thomas is our best hope in finding the Eye and the key. The man has a skill with language unparalleled by even our greatest historians. However, I was able to recognize two things. Mufasa no doubt moved the Eye to keep us from finding it. Knowing that no one here speaks or reads that incomprehensible gibberish called Pharaohan, that message was left on the occasion Ra would come to investigate.”
“Our plans, then?”
“As always, keep someone following Melissa Vargas. Not that I anticipate Thomas being trouble, but his ex-wife is a card we can pull if necessary. The Pharaohan we will need, for he can read the tablets… and as a former vessel, he is the only other man that will be able to open the crypt.” Anwar and Seth climbed aboard the helicopter and looked out of their respective windows as it rose into the air.
“And Mufasa?”
“His proximity to the Pharaohan cannot be a coincidence. It was his sliver of life force that stopped us from monitoring the Pharaohan from afar. He will die slowly and painfully, an example for all who dare oppose us. It almost gives me chills up my spine planning this.”
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Somewhere in Newark, New Jersey in a bar called the Titanic, a man stared slovenly at a television screen. To the casual observer, he would look like a bum who had wandered in off the street. His shirt was wrinkled, covered with splotches of the various drinks he had downed. His hair was unkempt… face unshaven… The eyes were baggy, red, and splotched, indicating not only intoxication, but severe insomnia. Across his knuckles were bandages where he had repeatedly punched in the mirror in his bedroom. He was a mess, both visually and emotionally.
It did not make any sense to him. Two weeks ago, rumor has it that world class entertainer Khalid Hunter was rushed into the emergency room with a life-threatening illness. Later that night, he disappeared… and was seen walking around with armed guard two days later. Rumors were flying around that the man was a mutant… something akin to a pyrotechnic. John Gardino should be at the top of the world, getting interviews left and right… being THE person responsible for what should be the biggest story of the Twenty-first Century:
The downfall of another American “Hero.” Revealed to the world as a mutant… a mutant gay-basher, if nothing else.
Two weeks ago, he figured he would have the proof he needed when he hired the policeman to steal a hair sample from that man’s home. Friends of Humanity did a genetic scan. Nothing. Not a thing. Nada. Zippo. Zilch. No X-Factor. None.
“One more…”
“No John,” the bartender said. “I think you’ve had enough. You better head on out. I’ll call you cab.”
With a swipe of his hand, the glasses and bottles came crashing to the floor, breaking into small pieces. Gardino stood to his feet, balling his hand into a fist and leaned over the bar to shout at the bartender. “Lishen, you fuckin’ prick… I wansh one more… now give me…”
The bartender shoved Gardino over the barstool, landing him on top of the broken glass. Gardino started to get up, but felt more comfortable on the floor… to the point where he fell asleep. The bartender shook his head and waved the bouncer over. “Marlon, put that asshole outside. He needs some fresh air.”
Marlon, a rather large Black man of almost 300 pounds, leaned over, grabbing the sleeping Gardino by the sides of his jacket, and picked him into the air. With a disapproving shake of his head, he carried him out through the back door and deposited him next to the dumpster. After that, he reached inside John’s jacket pocket and took out the wallet, deducting “bouncer’s fees.” Laughing and chuckling with a high-pitched voice, Marlon tucked the wad of bills inside the front loop of his belt, beneath the beer gut, and walked back inside.
A rat leaped out of the dumpster, landing on top of Gardino’s head. Pleased with this warm place to sleep, it curled up, the tail dropping lazily down Gardino’s face. Unexpectedly, a hand shot out, ripping the rat from on top of his head and with a quick choke, snapping its neck. The hand released the rat, allowing the corpse to drop at Gardino’s feet. With a wave of his fingers, Gardino started rising into the air, as if pulled by an invisible cord. “The poor American rat, drunk and down on his luck...”
The owner of the hand stepped into view, walking around Gardino as if inspecting him. “Ever the opportunist, out as always for a bigger slice of the American apple pie than he actually earned. Not strong enough to fill my ranks, but he could still be useful… to help put down Cougar’s cub, that is.”
The man flew into the air, biting down on Gardino’s neck. With a sobering jerk, Gardino woke up about to scream, but found a lock on his mind. Unable to fight back, he slowly felt his blood being sucked out of him. Just as he was about to pass out, the vampire jerked his mouth off of him and threw him to the ground. “THERE…” the vampire said with a sneer. “Just enough to whet the appetite, but not enough to kill… yet…”
Unable to scream, Gardino slowly pulled himself to his feet, starting to run, but he stopped with a jerk, compelled to turn back toward the vampire.
“No, no, no… Can’t let you go anywhere just yet, John… Why don’t you come on over?” the vampire said. Unable to control his body or even his thoughts, Gardino complied… stopping directly in front of the vampire.
At first glance, the man looked like he might be a movie star, or possibly even a model. Visually, he appeared to be the equivalent of a thirty-some-year-old California “surfer boy” with the typical athletic build, bronze skin, and blue eyes. What set him apart was the LOOK in his eyes. Gardino knew as he was forced to look in them that there was darkness beyond those eyes. An unpenetrable darkness that fogged up his mind. “So John… Aren’t you always this rude? We’ve been friends for almost two minutes now and you haven’t said a word. Oh… that’s right. I have a telepathic block on your mind. Sorry about that. Here, let me release…”
“AAAAAAAAAAA…” Gardino started to scream when he was abruptly cut off.
“Well, THAT’S no way to treat your new best friend is it?” the vampire said. “Especially since I am going to make you a VERY rich man… All you’ve got to do… well… except for what you are told… is do… well… exactly what you are told.” He walked up, grabbing Gardino by the back of the neck and inhaling deeply. “I can smell your fear, John. Tell you what… Let’s get to know each other first. Nevermind, I already know you. Let me tell you a little bit about me.” Gardino was forced to sit down as the vampire started pacing back and forth.
“First off, my name is actually Friedrich von Bonn, but you can call me Fred… and in case you’re wondering, yes I’m German. I was actually born there about… hold on… let’s see… How old am I?” He said, looking up as if into the back of his head. “Well… let’s just say I’m pretty damn old. Sorry about all of this, I can’t just help the way I am… Both my parents were already full blown vamps when I was born. I had a little brother named Rollich, but he was an asshole. Let’s see…” he said, sitting on a wooden crate. “I’ve been over here in the states for about eighty years, now… and pretty quickly ascended the steps as the top vampire in the world, thanks in part to my biggest pain in the neck, Robert Cougar. MAN, he’s been one annoying little bastard… always killing my converts left and right… blah blah blah. Anyway, I bet you are wondering what this has to do with you.”
Slowly, Gardino’s head was nodded up and down, more due to Fred’s telepathy than his actual intent.
“Well… Let’s just say that my pal Roy is Khalid’s grandfather. You know Khalid: big Black man, plays piano? About Thanksgiving, he started taking up his Grandpop’s business on the side, no doubt because of the influence of a certain traitor… a daywalker I created and gave to my late father as a Christmas present.” He stopped, taking a moment to look at Gardino’s eyes. “Hey… What’s so hard to believe about that? We vamps like the holidays, too! Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah… Well, a few years ago, I converted some chumps and sent them out to kill the brat before he could become a threat. Didn’t work… Anyway, let’s just say that kid and his family are getting on my last nerves – Don’t ask about his family. There’s already too damn many of them anyway… and I thought the SUMMERS were bad! Sorry to digress… In a nutshell, I plan to do some trimming on the family tree, but I think I’m going to piss on it first. SOOOO…”
Fred reached inside his jacket, pulling out a packet. “One of my people liberated it from the feds a few years ago. They still have plenty of records. Anyway, it explains in full detail what THEY think happened and on what THEY think their record with this kid is. Government conspiracy… kid with powers they can’t prove… You know… Nothing solid, but let’s just say it can cause a little trouble if it got out. Now…” Fred said, dropping a psionic suggestion in Gardino’s mind. “Go… be a good rat… and make sure that gets printed up for tomorrow’s newspaper.” Gardino started to walk away, when he was jerked to stop.
“You know… Nevermind… You might fuck it up. I think I’ll go with you.” With that, Fred discorporated into a gray mist that swarmed over Gardino, entering inside of him through the nose and the mouth. Gardino stumbled forward, grabbing his head and then jerked to a stand. “Hmmm…” he said, looking down at himself. “Gotta admit… ugly body… sniveling face… but for now, it will get the job done.” With that, he walked off.
End Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
He had tried to practice piano earlier, but he just couldn’t. His senses just would not go down. Instead of actually hearing the note, he would hear his fingers touch the key, the squeak of the lever mechanisms, the squeak of the pedals, and the sound of the hammer actually slamming into the string. He would hear everything BUT the music, it seemed. Even playing something as serene as Ravel’s Sonatine would sound as raucous as a freight train.
The buzzing was riding high… strong enough that he could feel it consuming just about his every thought. Just this feeling of intoxication, but something burgeoning underneath… desperate for air. It was a feeling he was well-acquainted with since the New Year, always growing like a seed planted within. First it would compel him to go outside; then, it would compel him to take a walk… eventually to stalk something. Not like someone whispering something in his ear, but more like something that felt natural… but uncomfortable. He had not noticed this feeling since Daemon had dropped the bracelet on his wrist a while ago, but now its return was overwhelming.
Daemon did it. Daemon aired it all out the moment he started fucking around with Khalid’s memories, and Khalid did not appreciate it one bit. The worse part was that those were all HIS memories… not Mufasa’s. Even right now, he could not help thinking about them over and over again, which in turn fed the buzzing, which in turn fed that internal urge, redoing the cycle over and over and over again. He wanted to be outside so bad…
-------------------------
He paced back and forth on the opposite side of the training room, the bullseyes dangling from the ceiling as he threw knife after knife at them. A couple of hours ago, he had peeled out of his trenchcoat and sweatshirt, wearing the sleeveless training shirt he had underneath. It was not normally the case, but this time he found that he was hotter than normal, probably more as a result of things turning around in his mind than anything else. Sweating – for Daemon – was rarely out of physical exertion.
Everything happening. Khalid snapping into trances and writing cryptic messages in Pharaohan… one of them about the EYE… and then Toc-Ra attacking on the same day. “Mufasa” using Pharaohan battle tactics… and long-banned constructs of Pharaohan weapons… and apparently having earned the wrath of the Toc-Ra’s priest. “Mufasa’s” cryptic statements earlier, referring to him as Son of Ra… being immune to Pharaohan firespice. Discovering Mjimbe in the Pharaohan Archives… The Pharaohan fable, “The Lion and the Snake.” It was coalescing into something, but he was not sure what it was.
Why did the Toc-Ra want HIM alive but Khalid and Maul dead? The best reason he could think of was that they wanted Daemon as bait for his brother… but why make the extra effort NOT to hurt him? It just did not make sense.
Hold on… Something that half-way went over him before. Khalid had painted the symbol of Ra on his right cheek earlier… the Mark of the Follower… Fuck… He should remember this, but so many of his memories are fuzzy. Pharaohan History, Gabe, Pharaohan History…
The Toc-Ra were formed to destroy Ra and his avatars. The Followers were the opposite, Ra’s elite force of magicians/soldiers… his protectors. No wonder Mufasa refused to discuss it; he was a fucking Follower… which would ALSO explain why the Toc-Ra’s priest wanted him dead. Hell, that explained everything.
“The Eye…” Daemon said, allowing his voice to trail off. “The Eye in the Sky watches us all… They search and search for the Eye but are too blind to see.” With a sudden revelation of exactly what Khalid meant, Daemon jerked both hands, the knives flying from his fingers and imbedding themselves into the bullseyes. “Two different eyes. The Eye of Horus and the Eye of Ra.”
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He pushed against the sides of his head, trying to keep it down. It was like it was under his skin, desperately striving to burst out. His own private little madness, the urge overwhelming. The senses he had once been fighting seemed to overwhelm him by this point. He had tries to suppress them, but they ran rampant as before, his mind aching at the prospect of having to sort it all out. The buzzing grew to the point where that was the only thing he could feel. He slapped his hand against the table a few times; pain… he wanted to feel pain… ANYTHING but this buzzing… this buzzing that was consuming him…
He looked at the blood that was now gushing from his hand, appalled that he could not feel it. He snarled as he ripped off part of his shirt to bandage the wound and found himself staring at the blood... the blood that was dripping freely from his hand and sliding down his arm onto the white carpet below… and before he knew what he was doing, brought his hand to his mouth and started licking at it.
His eyes flashed a shade of yellow as he glanced toward a shadow in the kitchen, only seeing two red eyes peering out of the darkness at him. Baring his teeth, Khalid growled toward the shadow, this time allowing a thin stream of drool to slide from the side of his lip. The eyes slowly disappeared from the shadow, a soft mocking chuckle leaving with it.
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“K what the hell is with all that noise you’re making in here? Are you breaking…” Daemon stopped, looking at the glass coffee table with the top shattered. His gaze then glanced at the thick red spot on the floor in front of the sofa. Finally, his glance traveled to Khalid, poised in a fighting stance, his tongue licking across the back of his knuckles, where the blood ran freely from. The rumble once again echoed out of the back of his throat as he locked his eyes on Daemon. “K,” Daemon said. “Let’s get that cleaned up.” He started to move toward Khalid when Khalid snarled at him, pulling back.
“K, if we don’t, it is going to get infected. You KNOW this. Now quit fooling around! It might need stitches.” I still smell Khalid’s scent… but I’m not sure he’s all there…
He snarled again, holding his hand close to his chest like an injured animal. Again, he ran his tongue along the back of the knuckles, not noticing the blood that now lay on his hands and his face.
With a sigh, Daemon tapped the side of his bracelet, hitting Khalid with an extrapowerful electrical jolt. He dropped to the ground, convulsing as the current passed through him. Daemon grabbed him roughly by the wrist, inspecting the wound carefully. “Yep… I was right… Needs stitches. Computer.”
Sanitized needle and thread delivered on scout 3B
Daemon reached into the scout, pulling out already-threaded needle. With Khalid convulsing beneath him, most people would have found it amazing Daemon could hold his wrist steady enough to stitch the back of Khalid’s hand. To Daemon, this part was easy. “I’d use anesthetic on you, but with that current jolting you, something tells me you wouldn’t notice it anyway.” His hand moved quickly and dexterously, thanks to his superspeed. When he was done, he released his grip on Khalid’s wrist and turned off the current.
Khalid moved quickly, starting to swing, but Daemon slipped behind him, holding his arms in place. Khalid started struggling, but Daemon increased the tension, this time pulling his free arm in a sleeper hold. “K, snap out of it.”
Khalid growled for a moment, but then slowly dropped off, more to the sleeper hold than anything else. He stopped fighting until Daemon released his grip, and just stayed where he was, slowly breathing in and out.
“Go change your clothes, we are going jogging.” Daemon said, throwing a set of gray sweats in Khalid’s face. “This pent-up aggression is no good for you.”
“Gabe, it’s two o’clock in the morning and I really don’t need to be anywhere near you right now. Where the hell would we go, anyway? Central Park?”
Daemon smiled.
“Are you out off your fucking mind?”
“What… you think a mugger’s going to fuck with either one of us at 2:00 in the morning?”
“Fuck the mugger… I’m talking about the NY fucking PD! Giuliani has had it in for me ever since I told him there was no way in hell I would play at his fundraiser… You think his Gestapo gives a damn the two Black men jogging around at 2:00 are a world-famous pianist and the head of a major technology firm?!”
Khalid stopped his tirade, noticing that the sweats Daemon was putting on were a little ragged… with holes in them just the right size. Daemon looked briefly down at the sweatshirt as if inspecting it. “Damn, I knew I forgot to take one of them out…” He reached down, pulling out a small metallic object and threw it in the garbage can with a clang. “Well?” he said toward Khalid, giving him a light shock. “Get a move on!”
Grumbling, Khalid changed his clothes on the spot.
“Oh… and please do your best not to growl or stalk anyone. The homeless are trying to sleep out there.” Before Khalid realized what he was doing, a growl rumbled out of his throat. Without wasting a moment, Daemon slapped him upside the back of the head. “Your ass better keep up.” With that, he dragged Khalid through the door by the back of the shirt.
After the door shut, a dark silhouette rose out of the darkness out of the apartment. For a moment, Patrick Walsh glanced out the door, lightly stroking his chin. With a grin, he decided… This new living arrangement of Khalid’s is working better than he thought. He slid back into the shadows to observe… unaware that he was in turn being observed…
End Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Running. He hates running. There is no way he can think of to describe running except that it is pointless, tedious, long, and from time to time tends to be torturous. Running sucks…
No it doesn’t. That’s just him lying to himself again. It’s that pain… that constant pain that reminds him he is still alive… that he is still human. Honestly, what he wanted to do more than anything else was to disappear off the trail altogether and hunt something. It didn’t even matter what… it could be anything… He just wanted to stalk something.
DAMN, he knew coming outside was just a plain bad idea.
ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!!
“Looks like you’re slacking off a little, K.”
Khalid snarled at him and got another shock as payment.
Daemon chuckled as he continued jogging. Despite his calm demeanor, his thoughts did stray. More than he would ever admit to anyone else, he thought about his family: his father, his mother, his grandparents, his great-grandfather… even his brother, the current avatar of the Power Cosmic. He was not sure if he thought of them out of genuine concern or just because of memories he picked up from Khalid of his own large family, but he still thought of them.
Daemon tried to look back at his childhood – well – what he considered his childhood. Wrestling and fighting with his brother. Sitting on his mother’s knee as she improvised – or so he assumed at the time – stories of the great Pharaohs of Egypt and of civilizations undreamt. Tricking Hashad into thinking there was a monster in the closet. The memories…
There were times he was not sure how to feel about his father. Should he hate his father for not being around during most of the formative years of his life? Should he hate or admire his father for putting everyone’s needs in front of his own and “playing superhero”? Perhaps having one time accepted the mantle of the Power Cosmic himself, Daemon’s predominant feeling should be empathy…
He did not know. Daemon was not sure there was an answer that could explain at times what he felt. It was in a constant state of flux, he thought, shifting with whatever the circumstances were at the time. It was a vivid reminder to him – among other things – that he was human. That…
He was jerked out of his thoughts by something. He was not sure what. He focused on his senses, trying to pick up at least something in the area. There was nothing out of the ordinary… the sound of the wind whistling… various heartbeats in the area… birds’ wings fluttering… the fresh scent of trees and of people… and even the not-so-fresh scent of the wino running away from one of Giuliani’s henchmen. “Khalid, slow down… look around…” he said, turning around…
“Gabe…” Khalid said, struggling as his yellow aura flared up. “I…” His voice trailed off… his temples pounding…
“What the fuck is going… K… you have to reel it in…”
“I… can’t…”
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Löwe… what the hell is wrong with you? Patrick Walsh thought, watching the two of them from one of the trees that lined the park. This phenomenon was the one thing the vampire known as Maul has not been able to figure out. Even Mufasa was subject to these spells from time to time, where for no reason the yellow aura would flare up. Sometimes that meant a trance; other times it didn’t. This one was the latter case. Maul noticed that while Khalid was crouched down, he slowly turned his eyes toward Maul. Now, Löwe… Why would you do that? You and Gabriel both had to have known I was…
The thought was interrupted by the crack of the branch beneath him and gravity pulling him heavily toward the ground. Normally, a fall from that height would be dangerous – even fatal. For Maul, it was not even enough to knock the wind out of him. One of the most advanced healing factors in the world and an adamantium-lined skeleton kept that from happening.
He did open his eyes to find an all-too-familiar face staring at him.
“Wow, PATRICK! HELLO there! Fancy meeting YOU here!”
“Friedrich von Bonn…” Maul grumbled, rising back to his feet. Before he could strike, a telekinetic blast hit him in the face, knocking him into a tree.
“WOW, you’re fast!” Fred said, this time kicking Maul again, fifty feet back. Maul started to sink in his shadow, but was telekinetically jerked out of it. “Now… What is my favorite ‘son’ doing out in Central Park at 3:00 in the morning? Is he scrounging around for FOOD?”
“Nein… already ate earlier…” Maul said, struggling against his grip. With a twitch of his shadowporting ability, the tree behind Fred fell on top of him, causing him to release his telekinetic grip. Releasing his adamantium-tipped claws from the tips of his fingers, Maul went for the jugular, but instead found mist. He spun around, this time to find a foot to his nose.
“Had me a bite of your cub one time… Didn’t like that very much. Messed the hell out of my stomach.” Fred said, slapping Maul’s head against the fallen tree. “I always DID find Cougar’s line to be a bit sour. THAT kid burned through my fucking stomach” He thrust Maul’s head into the trunk, laughing at the blood that spurted out. “I guess that is what happens when you mix apples and oranges… the concoction is UNBEARABLE!”
Maul jerked back, elbowing Fred in the chest. Next, he straightened out his arm, this time backhanding the blonde vampire across the nose. “Löwe didn’t like you either… Said you smelled funny.”
“Who are you fooling, Walsh?” Fred said, sneering at him as his nose repaired itself. Again, he lashed out with his telekinesis, holding Maul in place. “You tell yourself you are helping him, but you are only using him to further your own futile bid for power. Your unholy alliance is doomed.”
“Unholy? Interesting words coming from you,” Maul said, straining against the telekinetic vice grip. “I care nothing for power…”
“It makes no difference to me. Once the vampire council speaks, everyone must abide.”
“What’s wrong?” Maul said, this time sneering. “Are you so scared because MY family is beating yours that you have to solicit help?”
With a hiss, Maul was thrown back into a tree. From his back, Fred withdrew a sword, walking toward Maul. “My friend assures me that their ‘gift’ dies with Cougar and Khalid. To that end, these have been marked for death: Cougar, Khalid, Joseph, SuperGrover, his whelp… and of COURSE you… the traitor!” He reared the sword back. “As one of us, your death will be the most merciful… I shall enjoy having your head on my mantle!”
Before he could swing, the place erupted in a blinding flash of yellow light. The sword dropped to the ground and Fred’s telekinetic grip slackened as he felt the life go out of him. Just as he hit the ground, he had the presence of mind to burrow… escaping into the Earth.
Maul’s eye blinked open. “Er?” He said, feeling his neck. He looked at the ground to see where Fred had burrowed… and to see the glistening sword that lay there. He reached down snapping it in half with his claws. “It would have never made it through the bone, anyway… Now, to see why Gabriel and Löwe did not make it here to fight.”
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“K! What the fuck was THAT about?!” Daemon shouted, picking Khalid back to his feet. Groggily, Khalid stumbled, apparently too weak to move. Daemon noticed the blood profusely draining from his nose. He ripped off part of Khalid’s sleeve, setting the scrap in his hand and placed it to his face. “K?!” Daemon glanced around, looking to see if there were any witnesses. Strangely enough, he saw people lying around on the ground… passed out, presumably from the flash of light. “What the hell did you do?”
“Don’t know… I…” Khalid started when this time, his eyes flashed a bright shade of yellow. The ground twenty feet around them lit up, the grass glowing a bright shade of yellow. Daemon noticed that Khalid seemed to grow even weaker, his skin growing feverish. Groggily, Khalid spoke again. “Maul’s okay… on the way… They can’t… take you… if there are no shadows… Stay in… the circle…”
Suddenly catching on, Daemon spun behind him, flashing his sword as he went. He noticed this time on the edge of the circles that dark forms rose up out of the darkness, each one hanging back… waiting. “So, you guys are ready for a REMATCH, eh?”
Anwar stepped into the circle, standing just across from Daemon. “The choice is up to you, Mr. Strong. You may either come of your own free will and spare your pathetic follower, or you can be taken by force and watch him die.”
“Big choice,” Daemon said. “Stay and watch him die or go and NOT watch him die… either way he dies. NO WAY is K getting off THAT easy. I think I’d much rather stay and make his life a living hell.”
Upon hearing that, Anwar’s eyes flashed a dark shade of purple. Around him, Toc-Ra soldiers, strangely obscured in black, stepped inside the circle of light surrounding them. Daemon noticed that they still remained almost as shadows, even though the light was fiercely bright… penetrating. Anwar sneered back at Daemon, laughing almost sinisterly. “Fabric woven especially with Mufasa’s powers in mind… Light will not penetrate them… even in solid form.”
Maul dropped down from the sky, landing on the other side of Khalid. “I’m insulted, Gabriel. You were going to start without me?”
“You seemed otherwise occupied. Didn’t want to disturb you.” Daemon said out the side of his mouth. “Watch K’s back. I’ll take care of Mr. Clean over here.”
Another figure dropped down from above, dressed entirely in black as the Toc-Ra, but unlike them, his clothes were not designed with Mufasa’s powers in mind. Maul started toward the dark figure, who unlike the others, looked like a mummy in black tape. Khalid’s hand snapped around Maul’s wrist tightly. “No… He’s here to help.”
“The WRAITH??!!” Maul said, more of an exclamation than anything else.
With a look of boredom, Anwar interrupted this momentary stall. His head shook back and forth as he spoke, as if agitated or in disbelief than anything else. “Attack them… Kill all except the Pharaohan. He’s to be taken alive.”
And the fight began…
End Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
He felt weak. There was no other way to explain it. It was not just one of those general “been running and fighting all day and am just plain tired” weaks. This is more of the “can’t move my muscles and feel like I’m about to pass out” weaks. He could at least drop to his knees as everyone fought around him. The blood that was pouring out of his nose was now down to a bare trickle. Still, there was the buzzing, which covered any trace of pain… Not to mention the extreme ringing in his ears that at times he thought would block out all of the sound. There was also the sensation, sort of like the candy wrapper being unfolded, in the back of his head…
--------------------------
“And so, the protected becomes the protector… how fitting.” Anwar said, pacing back and forth as his troops overran those fighting in the center of the circle.
With a burst of electromagnetic energy to clear the Toc-Ra from on him, Daemon started to rush at Anwar, with his sword blazing. “Had the appetizers and they were CHEAP! I think I’m ready for the main course!” Just before he reached the wizard, he changed tactics, opting to hit him in the face with a plasma burst to the eyes. Next, his fist started for Anwar’s chin, but soon found a purple protective field around him.
“You want to protect them, Pharaohan?” Anwar said with almost bitter contempt. “YOU will surrender now… and go willingly. Your word of honor you will in no way deceive or turn on us.”
“And start a reputation for giving in to a piece of shit like you? Forget it!” His sword humming, Daemon brought it across the protective field, temporarily causing it to flicker. With Anwar’s gasp, he knew that it was tied into the old mage’s life force. He started to swing at him again, this time getting the palm of Anwar’s hand to his face.
Anwar picked him up by the sweat shirt, holding a new Dagger of Set to Daemon’s neck. “It WILL be done, one way or another… even if I have to sacrifice your essence to my master, it WILL be done!”
Rolling his eyes, Daemon’s sword sliced through Anwar’s wrist, causing it and Daemon to drop to the ground. “Like I haven’t heard THAT before.” Anwar gazed in shock at his detached hand. While he was distracted, Daemon’s sword flashed by again, this time disintegrating the Dagger of Set. “Man… don’t you keep on LOSING those things?”
Anwar jumped into the air, kicking Daemon in the face repeatedly staggering him back. Satisfied with the distance, a burst of purple energy flew from his free hand, knocking Daemon off his feet and across toward the other end of the circle. With a grunt, Anwar reached down toward the ground, placing his hand back on his wrist. “I REALLY tire of this…”
He stalked toward Daemon, his eyes glowing dark purple as he went. For a brief instant, his tongue dashed out of his mouth, much as a snake would getting a feel for the area. With a jerk of his wrist, five streams of purple energy shot out of his fingers, wrapping around Daemon completely. Daemon could not help but shiver as he realized these purple energy streams had scales… and had faces of snakes on the end. Daemon reflexively snapped his hand across, severing all five streams with his sword. From his hand, an electromagnetic burst shot out, absorbed by Anwar’s hand… who in turn continued firing stream of purple energy at him.
“What’s wrong, Son of Ra? You seem surprised… Did you forget that our goal is to destroy Ra?”
Kicking back to his feet, Daemon continued to cut through the streams as they came. He knew what Anwar was doing. It was a lose-lose situation. He stays and Anwar successfully closes the distance. He backs up to maintain a safe distance, he goes right out of the circle, probably into the waiting hands of more Toc-Ra. The last thing he wanted to do was get close up…
---------------------------------
He had sent his royal party into the battle. They knew what they were supposed to do… Stall. Mufasa knew his time was short, but he could not allow himself to pass into history until he insured that there WOULD be a history. He knew it was the end of Kemet… but this time he had to make sure it was not the end of everything. This was bigger than him; it was bigger than Kemet.
He carefully placed the tablets inside the small crypt. Other than himself and Nefir, no other person in the vicinity would be able to read them. Should Kailon-Ra decide to investigate, he would find them there… but he was not sure if that would ever happen. With a photon paw, he picked up the half-ton brick, setting it in its place on the wall, making it indistinguishable from everywhere else in the crypt. “//Nefir…//” he said. (Translated from the Ancient Egyptian)
The Queen of Kemet came out, the shroud around her face preventing the dust in the air from reaching her lungs. “//Yes, my King.//”
“//I…//” his voice trailed off. “//You know what I must do… and… I’m…//” He started to say it… he almost said it, but he could not make it pass his lips.
She stopped him with a gentle touch to his shoulder. “//Do what you have to do…//” she said. She turned away from Mufasa, leaving the crypt. “//I will see that the kingdom is evacuated.//”
“//See that Akim sinks the city into the ground after I rescue him… and then seek out a new life for yourself… With my death, the secret of the Eye and the Key will be safe. You will be safe. I…//” he stopped, his voice cracking. He almost said that their children would be safe, but that was not the case. His children were dead… because of a viper that was planted in the den. He started to apologize, but he could not. The words just would not pass his lips.
Her shroud momentarily pulled away from her face, exposing the symbol on her right cheek, painted to look like the equivalent of a backwards letter R. She looked once more at the EYE as Mufasa covered it up, allowing her fingers to trace the symbol once more. “//I find it…//” she started, her voice also cracking. “//…humorous that you would presume to order me around even in the afterlife.//”
“//I am not dead, yet.//” He momentarily set the key down, embracing her. For a brief second, they just stood together, holding each other, knowing that it would be the last time they ever did. “//You have my final orders. Sink Kemet… Seek out a new life… Find a husband deserving of you.//”
“//As old as I am?//” she chuckled.
“//You’ve not had meno…//”
“//Shush… Only because of my physiology. It is only a matter of time.//”
“//You have my orders.//”
“//As King of Kemet or as Chief of the Followers?//”
“//As your husband.//” With that, he kissed her on the forehead and stepped back, taking hold of the Eye and the Key. With a forced smile on his face, he disappeared in a flash of light…
-------------------------------
“The Eye… the key…” Khalid said groggily, barely keeping himself in position. It was strange just how his mind was working right now. Swords and blades were flying all over the place. Throwing stars were whizzing past his ear. Maul just disemboweled his fifth Toc-Ra soldier. Despite that, his mind was awash in distant images and feelings that seemed to have little relevance to the moment. The bulk of his concentration was on maintaining this circle of light and watching the fight between Daemon and Anwar.
Without his even realizing it, the blood gushing from his nose now trickled even more slowly and he stood up, visually appearing to be in a feverish state. Two soldiers moved toward his position, each with their swords bearing down on him. Absent-mindedly, his hands rose to his side, allowing them to run into his palms. The bones of their noses shoved into their brains, they fell backwards toward the ground. He managed to catch their swords before they landed on the ground, his weak gaze still locked on Anwar and Daemon. “Defend…” He said.
“Löwe?!” Maul started, catching another blade aimed for Khalid. With a jerk of his wrist, it sailed back toward its original source, plunging into the neck. “Time to return to Earth.” He snapped his fingers, this time surprised to find there was no effect.
Khalid answered, still apparently groggy. “Not now… I’m busy… Later…” He started moving forward, his gaze never leaving the fight between Daemon and Anwar. He brought a sword he appropriated from the dead Toc-Ra by his ear, this time to blindly deflect an arrow bearing down at him into the eye of another one.
“Where did he learn THAT trick?” Maul said to himself, dodging several Toc-Ra soldiers being thrown over his head, courtesy of the Wraith. Momentarily, he stole a glance back toward the phantom… a legend for as long as even he has known. He had heard whispered tales and even from time to time saw comic strips about this mysterious character, but he had never thought of him more as an urban legend… virtually the poor man’s Batman.
With practically no effort, the Wraith shoved his hand through the brain of one Toc-Ra soldier, short circuiting his nervous system. Before that soldier fell, he ripped a dagger out of his belt loop to throw with pinpoint accuracy into the chest of another one. Next, he stood still while two Toc-Ra soldiers came running at him, and inadvertently killing each other when they phased.
Maul chuckled with a smirk. The Toc-Ra soldiers were having trouble seeing him for some reason. What do you know about that?
The Wraith was very real. He was not sure whether he should be struck with awe or intrigued. He registered no smell… no psi-signature… almost, no physical presence. The man was, as the legend says, a ghost. What kind of spirit, though? What is his aim? To exact vengeance? To protect the weak? To fight for good? BAAAAH… Something in the back of Maul’s mind said that he was not fitting something together… some kind of association that should be hitting him in the face, but what was it? Odd… I’ve seen that fighting style before… but where?
------------------------
“God DAMN…” Daemon said, realizing he was on the very edge of the circle of light. He has no problem taking on mages. NOOOO problem. That usually meant taking a few lumps while giving them out. What he did not like was when this mage seemed to absorb energy. That was not good. Yes, there was his sword, which made up for about anything, but there was the one thing staring him in the face: he didn’t know a goddamn thing about this enemy.
“A man of your stature should not resort to such lowly language.” Anwar laughed, still firing streams of purple energy from his fingers.
“A man of my stature can use whatever damn language he fucking wants to!” Daemon answered, his sword still disintegrating them before they could reach him.
“For shame,” Anwar said, this time his tongue dashing out of his mouth, forked. “It appears that as time went on, the need for ‘properness’ died out with it, no doubt started by that foul king you call a guardian!”
Daemon noticed that now the guy actually had fangs, most likely a result of tapping into this higher energy state. With a whiff, he realized that the man was cold-blooded. Dossier on the enemy… Cold blooded… immune to the elements, much like the Toc-Ra… absorbs energy… funky purple protective field which is affected by extradimensional weapons… Oh… and a hell of a healing factor. He has to look at the man’s aims, too. Anwar isn’t trying to attack him. He’s trying to drive him out of the circle of light so they can take him. That brought him back to round one… He does not know a damn thing about his enemy. Shit. “Hell, Anwar. If it was you who were supposed to be the lesson in ‘properness’, I’d have gone common myself!”
“Speaking of lessons, Son of Ra, allow me to give you one more.” He jerked both of his hands at once, sending a large purple stream of energy toward Daemon, which transformed into an energy version of a snake, complete with bared fangs and hissing. Just before it arrived, a photon lion’s paw dropped down from above, dissipating it.
“Who… the hell… are you… to be calling… ANYONE foul?!” Khalid said, backhanding Anwar with another photon paw. “Last I checked, you’re a fucking snake.”
“Common… Pathetically common.” Anwar said, his tongue dashing across his lips. With a smile, he noticed something else. “Interesting… it appears the lion king is not completely in residence…”
Khalid interrupted him with a palm to the chin, which shattered Anwar’s jaw. A beam of purple energy shot back, which took him off his feet. Before a follow up could come, he intercepted it with the photon lion’s paw. Khalid stood up, gritting his teeth.
“He’s not used to expending this much…” Daemon knew somehow, because of the strange connection, that Khalid’s power would not hold out much longer. Any moment now, it was going to flicker off… an adaptive response. He still found it amazing after the “acid trip” last night that Khalid’s powers activated this time at all. The guy was practically hallucinating on his feet. He’s not all there. Daemon knew he had to end it… soon…
“You are WEAK, Mufasa…” Anwar snarled. “You always WERE weak. Your mystical aura is more advanced in this incarnation, yet you are even weaker than before. The so-called Purified… BAAAAAH!”
“Must… defend… house… of Ra…” Khalid mumbled, his eyes flashing a brighter shade of yellow.
With a start, Daemon started to move toward Anwar. He had all the confirmation he needed about whom Mufasa was. Khalid’s power was about to cut off and Daemon could not allow him to die… even if it was to save his behind. Before he could get close, the Wraith pulled him into the air pulling him back. “No…” Daemon said, lashing out with an electromagnetic attack. He struggled to drop to the ground as Khalid dropped the lion’s paw, dodging the energy blast aimed at his head.
The circle of light depowered rapidly, plunging the park into darkness. His aura dropped, Khalid stood groggily ten feet from Anwar, who stood poised with his purple-glowing hand aimed at Khalid. He called out the side of his mouth toward Daemon, who was still being held in the air by the Wraith. “Get ready, Son of Ra… The circle is broken and Mufasa can maintain it no longer.” He sneered toward Khalid, laughing as he mocked him. “I had said you would die slowly and painfully… but this is an opportunity I just can’t resist. I waited 5000 years for this. Good-Bye, Mufasa.”
Khalid stood… waiting as Anwar’s hand charged up… and released the thick pulse of energy coming directly at Khalid’s head…
“Löwe!” Maul said, moving toward Khalid to knock him out of the way. Just before he could make contact, Khalid’s hand grabbed him by the face, stopping his momentum cold. A yellow porthole opened up directly in front of Khalid’s nose, allowing the purple beam to enter…
…which in turn came out a fresh yellow porthole opened directly behind Anwar. Not expecting his own energy pulse to be returned behind him, Anwar was taken off his feet by the pulse and hurled into the porthole in front of Khalid’s nose, which Khalid promptly closed up. The surviving Toc-Ra soldiers quickly retreated into the darkness, abandoning their assignment without Anwar to direct them.
As quickly as it flared, Khalid’s aura was dropped. Daemon finally dropped to the ground to approach Khalid, not quite sure how to react. Maul settled to the ground, momentarily looking at Khalid’s eyes which were still glazed over. The blood had by now stopped trickling down, but Khalid was still not quite there.
“K?” Daemon asked, setting his hand on his shoulder. “Sweet move… You okay? K?”
Slowly, Khalid’s head turned toward Daemon, nodding… just like it did when he nodded in the office the previous day. Next, he glanced at the Wraith, mindlessly waving as the spectre rose into the darkness of the sky and disappeared. His head finally turned toward Maul, nodding up and down slowly. With two of his fingers, Khalid wiped some of his blood off his upper lip and reached toward Maul, drawing a symbol across his right cheek. Just as he finished, Daemon grabbed Khalid forcefully by his hand.
“K! What the hell are you…”
Khalid turned back toward Daemon, nodding his head up and down… and slowly spoke… “…to protect… the House… of Ra…” Then his eyes rolled in the back of his head and he dropped to the ground, unconscious.
Maul’s eyebrow arched, as he pondered what just happened. “Gabriel… You mind telling me what that was about?”
Daemon reached down, hoisting Khalid over his shoulder. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“Humor me.”
“He just declared you a Follower.”
“Follower? Of whom? I follow no one.”
“Don’t ask. It’s best you don’t know. Let’s go. We’ll talk about this, later.”
End Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Khalid’s eyes blinked open as he sat up, only barely aware of his surroundings. He felt weak. Really weak… like a vise pushing at the side of his temples. There was a roaring buzz going on in his head and his senses were, of course, acute enough to give him a headache. He blinked his eyes, unaware of a gray mist that was streaming out of his nose and leaned over to massage his temples. He slowly stopped, taking a moment to look at his hands. It happened again… Khalid thought, this time looking at his stomach. I lost more bodyfat… He tried to raise a small photon spark on his hands, but not to his surprise noticed that it would not come. Hell… he could not remember that entire number he pulled last night, but he did know that he probably would not expect his photon powers to be back for a couple of days. With a yellow flash of the eyes, he called out without looking up. “Good morning, Maul… I don’t want to know what the hell you are doing in my bedroom, but I’m feeling too shitty to be much of an asshole right now. What time is it?”
“9:30… P.M.” Maul said, sitting down in the chair at the end of the room. “You had exerted a lot of energy last night, Löwe. You slept for 17 hours.”
“Damn,” Khalid said, finally looking up toward Maul. “I feel like I could have slept longer.” He paused a moment, to look toward Maul… this time noticing that there was something different about him. “Hey… Maul… You been taking something? Your skin is not as pale… You’re looking… well… almost human.”
Maul glanced down at his skin, noticing the healthy semi-pinkish tone that had started to color it. It is working… I cannot believe it is working. “Must be the fat woman I drank last night.”
“I really did not want to hear that.” Khalid said, about to stand up. When he felt the dizziness hit him, he sat back down on the bed. “No… I think I’ll wait a moment,” he said, placing his head in between his knees. “I barely remember anything.”
“I know. Give it time; it will come back.” With a click, Maul extended a shiny adamantium-tipped claw from the end of his finger and opened his mouth, momentarily scraping the back of his incisors.
Khalid happened to notice at that moment that the tips of his fingers were a little sore. From what, he did not know. “I’m surprised you and Afro-Napoleon actually allowed me to sleep in.”
“Actually, he intended to wake you about twelve hours ago, but you weren’t waking up. Probably a combination of the blood and the energy spent.”
“Great,” Khalid mumbled. “Probably gave the prick an idea for his next round of torture. My senses still won’t go down after the last round.”
“I must admit, I am surprised you managed to sleep so long.”
“Why do you say that?” Khalid’s head jerked up, sniffing the air.
“Did you not hear? Michael Stokes awakened from his coma yesterday.”
“No, I didn’t hear… I was busy getting tortured by Daemon, probably. I’ll get his ass back for that one… Don’t know why that would affect my sleeping since no one saw fit to tell me! I’m glad to hear it, though…” That scent in the air…
“Well… You could say they are celebr…”
bambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambam!!!
Khalid screamed, grabbing hold of his ears. That smell… now he knew what it was. “GOD DAMN!” He heard the ceiling crack and felt plaster raining down on his head. “WILL YOU TWO SHUT THE FUCK UP??!!”
Bambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambam-bambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambambam!!!
Maul reached in his pocket, pulling out two pair of ear plugs. He gave one set to Khalid and placed the other set in. “I doubt they are going to do that anytime soon.”
Abamawamabamawamabamawamabamawamabamawamabamawamabamawamabamawamabamawama…
Khalid grabbed onto the sides of his bed that now was rocking back and forth. With a crash, he heard the light fixture drop from the ceiling, then the drawers and shelves deposit all of their contents on the floor. The plaster, which was falling down in specks, started raining down in chunks and strips. A chunk fell from the ceiling above, exposing the sky.
Maul sniffed the air, leaning back in the chair. “He’s almost done with this session.”
BAMWAMBAMWAMBAMWAMBAMWAMBAMWAMBAMWAMBAMWAMBAMWAMBAM…
Khalid felt himself thrown out of the bed headfirst across the room, crashing into the door and falling down. His eyes opened to see another large chunk of the ceiling crashing down toward his head. In the nick of time, he fell into his shadow and landed in the closet. Stepping out of it, he saw Maul nodding.
“You’re welcome, Löwe,” he said, motioning toward the bed. (By now, it had fallen apart and had a good chunk of the ceiling fall on it.)
Khalid sighed… Yet another thing he hated about this living situation. “Fuck it… I’m not cleaning this shit up. God damn prick… accusing me of being a fucking slob…” Khalid yelled at the wall. “AND GET A FUCKING AIR FRESHENER!” Angrily, Khalid stormed out of the bedroom, moving toward the living room.
Just like he expected, it was a mess. He walked toward the Steinway piano, propping the hood up. “God damn son of a bitch.” Carefully, he tapped a key, wincing as he heard the sound. “Fucking knocked my piano out of tune.” He reached into the overturned piano bench, pulling out the six-prong tuning lever and went to work, much like an auto enthusiast would a car. “Gotta be three quarter tones flat because of his shit.”
“Gee, K… About time your lazy ass woke up,” Daemon said standing in the doorway to his bedroom. “That thing sure gets out of tune quickly. You sure you didn’t get gipped?”
Khalid snapped his head toward him, snarling, and then went back to work. “God damn prick… and I’m not cleaning this shit up,” he said.
Daemon nodded toward Maul, who entered the room… and could barely bring himself to look at Daemon. Maul grumbled, shaking his head. “You could at least tie your bathrobe, Gabriel.”
“Ooops…” he said, his face blushing a shade of purple as he tied it. “Sorry… needed a break… Forgot you guys were here.”
Khalid growled as he continued tuning. “Fucking jackass… Using MY life force so he can thrust the fucking apartment apart… and is going to say ‘forgot you guys were here…’ Asshole…”
“Maul, are we in agreement about our objectives?”
“Ja…” he said, nodding his head up and down.
Khalid happened to glance up, seeing three duffle bags sitting by the front door. “You taking a vacation, Gabe? Good… I’m sick of seeing your ass.”
Daemon turned toward Maul, jerking his head to the side as if saying, “You haven’t told him, yet?”
Maul laughed. “Nein… I thought I would give you the pleasure.”
Khalid grunted, tuning yet another string in the piano. “Give him the pleasure of WHAT, Maul? What are you guys talking about?”
Daemon was about to speak when Sharon Stokes stepped out of the bedroom, wrapped only in a sheet. She grabbed Daemon’s bathrobe by the ties and started pulling him back in. “We’ve got work to do. You can talk to them on the trip.”
Daemon’s eyes lit up, as he allowed himself to be pulled in. “ANYTHING you say!”
“Now get that bathrobe off… so we can get something else off…”
“SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR!” Khalid and Maul both said in unison. In frustration, Khalid tossed the tuning lever back in the piano bench and closed the lid, expecting to hear the two of them go at it any moment. “Fucking jackass… I’m so sick of…” He stopped, glancing back at the door. “Hold on… What the hell did she MEAN he could talk to us on the trip?! WHAT trip??!!”
With a jerk, Maul planted two fingers on each of Khalid’s temples, squeezing tightly. “Forget the trip… We have other things to discuss while your roommate is distracted.” Khalid’s hands went immediately to Maul’s wrists behind him, but his strength could not move them. Maul pushed in more tightly, the pain itself being too much for Khalid to put up a struggle. Maul started to move his fingers in circles, his eyes flashing briefly a shade of yellow. Khalid’s muscles relaxed, completely under Maul’s spell. “Like your programming…”
The End