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Post by HoM on Apr 28, 2007 17:19:10 GMT -5
[[-- A note from the author:- Some of you may not know what is going on this issue. Some of you may not know about my love of continuity, and of things that have come before on this site. Well, you should. Gotham: City of the Dead, was a four part mini series that ran last year, written by Chris Paugh (with assists on #3 from yours truly) and was greeted with much acclaim from the readers on the site. Chris Paugh, writer of Blue Beetle and co-writer of Detective Comics and Powers, Inc., is not dead is a person who I had many plans with before he went on leave from the site, plans that included an intricately woven Rip Hunter story that would clear up some dangling plot points from some of the books we have written. So I thought, hey, what better way to honour my friend, than by writing a Rip Hunter story. One that revisits a story that Chris is well known for? Personally, I can't think of one! Anyway, this issue is dedicated to Chris Paugh! If it weren't for him, it wouldn't be here! --]]
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:33:01 GMT -5
Meanwhile, in another dimension… The demon engine roared as it drew more and more energy from the souls of those around it. The victims of a God of Sadism, their souls screaming as they corrupted everything they touched. The demon engine… It didn’t stop. It just kept going, bringing more and more back, until… It just started to work on the living. One day, the living started feasting on human flesh. And then they just… Stopped. They looked up to the sky, and just waited. For what? The world began to shake. The sky began to jitter. And then reality belched out a golden sphere, a perfect globe of patched together metal and wires. It hit the ground, crashed through rotten flesh and crashed cars, until it hit the side of a building and came to a rough stop. The zombies didn’t move. Yet. “Son of a--!” Rip Hunter flailed about inside the time sphere. He had fallen out of the piloting chair and somehow ended up tangled with the wires that allowed the craft to travel through the multiverse. “Crap, crap…” He looked up, toward the black screen at the top of the ship, in front of his chair. “Where am I? Where did we end up?” His eyes wandered out of the portholes, and then he swallowed hard. “Oh, Jesus…” He had read about this place. He thought back, to when he had been combing through the multiverse recorder his sphere was equipped with, and this was one of the worlds he thought he had blocked from his travelling system. This was a world where Batman hadn’t stopped the Apokolips generator from transferring the souls of the tortured into the empty shells of the deceased. This was a world of the dead. “ Crap.” His hand found his holster, and he pulled out his retro-cool ray gun. “Crap.” He stood up, and began to climb up one of the many ladders that were laid across the floor. He’d learnt from this kind of event before, and installed the appropriate mechanisms just in case. When the sphere is upside down, on it’s side, whatever; ladders emerged from the floor panels. His baby was an intelligent one, and he loved it when things came together in a crisis. He’d been thinking recently though, if he could find a quiet tesseract, or a fully equipped chronal outpost, he’d build a gyroscope, so no matter what happened on the outside, the inside would stay… Balanced. He reached the piloting chair and began to survey the damage upside down, his fingers quickly hitting all the keys necessary. “Ok. Engine… Oh, that’s good. Engine’s fine. Mapping systems… Ok. Good. We’re off to a good start. The hull…” He scrolled down, his long blonde hair flapping in front of his eyes, his beard itching his face. “Oh, that is so the opposite of a good sign.” The readings were clear. Something was lodged against the temporal shielding. Now, that wouldn’t be bad normally but the device built to clear away the debris? It too had something lodged against it. Meaning… “A man’s work is never done.” He pulled on his thick black jacket, and then his green gloves. The door was near the damage, so that was a good start. He pulled a length of metal free from it’s moorings, and then checked the power level on his ray gun. Full charge. Good. Let’s just hope his target practice paid off. He began to climb up the ladder leading to the exit, and grit his teeth. Zombies. Just his luck.
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:33:30 GMT -5
Action Comics [/I] Issue Seventeen "The Linear Man Is Our Only Hope!"Written by House Of Mystery Cover by Roy Flinchum With alternate cover by MischiefDragon[/center]
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:34:12 GMT -5
Metropolis: It was Steve Lombard’s birthday. And he loved telling everybody. “So how old are you, Steve?” He froze. Ron smiled at the question Lois just asked, and waited for an answer. The reply came slow and thought out. “Never ask a man his age, Ms Lane, you of all people should know that…” Lois smirked. “I think that only applies to women, Steve.” He sighed, and smiled. “Thirty six.” “Weren’t you twenty nine last night? When you were talking to those girls at the bar?” “Troupe, you traitor!” Steve grinned. “It’s all subjective, my friend. Ray, am I right?” He looked over to the gaunt man who was typing silently at a computer terminal. “Ray? Lang? Langster?” “What was the question?” “Age is subjective when you’re talking to hot college chicks!” Ray chuckled. “Sure.” “So, are all of you gonna’ come down to the Ace O’ Clubs tonight? First round is on Troupe!” Ron nodded. “It is indeed.” “Lois?” inquired Lombard. “Sure,” nodded the award-winning journalist. “Perry?” The quartet turned as Perry exited his office with an empty coffee cup. “What’s wrong, Lombard?” “It’s my birthday! We’re going out for some drinks tonight, you want in?” Perry smiled. “Sure. Just don’t expect a present or a hug.” “Score. The gang’s all in.” Ron pondered for a moment. “I wonder if Clark can fly in.” “I called the farm yesterday, Ron.” Lois paused. “Mrs Kent told me he was helping Pete Ross build his new house or something.” Lombard sighed. “I miss the big ol’ hunk of man.” Everyone looked at Steve. “I… Um. You know what I meant.”
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:34:28 GMT -5
Meanwhile: He dialled the number. Double encrypted, untraceable by anyone but the best. And the best? They don’t work for anyone with your interests in mind. It rang twice. And then someone picked it up. Silence. “Hello,” he whispered. The silence was broken by a familiar voice. Strong. Independent. Powerful. “You got my call then.” “Yes, sir.” “Good. The order is simple.” “Glory told me, sir.” “Then I don’t have to repeat myself.” Luthor hung up the phone, and looked out over the city. His city. Soon, someone in the way of his grand agenda would be out of the way. And then… The game would be afoot, would it not?
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:35:08 GMT -5
Gotham Mercy General: Built like a wall, the broadest shoulder’s you’d ever see, the brightest smile and the blondest hair of any man, and eyes you could lose yourself in. The daisies were clutched in his hand, and for once, in a long time, he was nervous. He wasn’t wearing his costume, but he had his shield attached to his back, just in case. He knocked on the door to the dark private room in the hospital, and entered slowly. He was breathing fast, his heart beat like a jackrabbit. He smiled widely and then-- A middle-aged nurse made an empty bed. She looked at him and smiled, then began to speak in a British accent: “We gave her the all clear. Your ‘magical’ friend (or whatever) said the metahuman infection she was suffering from was expunged from her system--” The Guardian interrupted her. “Metahuman infection?” It had been a week, and there had been no obvious ill effects from her time possessed by the Silver Banshee. They’d kept her in for observation, but she was free to go whenever she wanted to, so she’d obviously taken that liberty. “What do you mean?” The nurse continued. “How else do you explain the sudden on set of metahuman abilities? We’ve all seen it before. That bloke was all ‘ancient spirit possession’ and when we asked if he wanted a psych analysis he got in a strop and left the ward.” “Caesar then,” Jim Harper nodded. “Did she say where she was going?” “Back to work, I think. Mentioned she had to clear out her desk.” Jim dropped the daisies, and turned tail.
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:35:58 GMT -5
Outside Metropolis Mercy General: “He’s on the move,” whispered the man, who watched Jim Harper climb up a fire escape and begin to sprint over rooftops. “And we’ve scanned his biology. His power levels are higher than we expected.” He paused. “Borderline metahuman…” His partner typed into his laptop, and then looked up at the man speaking. “What do you want to do?” The man sighed. “Call in the Knights, and meet us at Metropolis Central.” "But the Knights are reserved for Level 10 scenarios and higher--" "Are you questioning me?" Spat the man. "No, sorry, I'm on it."
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:36:37 GMT -5
Meanwhile, in another dimension… The zombies didn’t even react when the side of the sphere opened. Rip raised his gun and silently climbed toward the top of his craft. Nothing yet. He’d fought zombies before. Vampires too. You wouldn’t imagine the amount of worlds with zombies or werewolves about. There are like… twelve. He reached the top of the globe and hesitated. He began to think. This was a world. With Apokolips. And Apokolips had been stopped, because how else would they have got the generator… but if Batman had failed… And the only way you can repel Apokolips is with a full on force of superheroes so what happened to… His eyes widened. He flicked a switch on his ray gun. Kryptonite beam. A small green crystal slotted inside the device and acted as an amplifier. “ Hrrrmmmm…” It was a whisper. He looked down and saw a man clad in a Green Lantern’s uniform stumble toward him. “ Guuuhhh…” “Oh, cripes.” Rip Hunter raised his gun and took steady aim, and then paused. If there was a Green Lantern, that meant there was a Superman… Didn’t it? And a Superman can… A glint of blue and red caught his eye. “ HRGGHHHH!” His gun arm jerked up and caught the flying Kryptonian zombie straight between the eyes, a green blast of pure power scouring a hole through his rotting skull. The zombie Superman fell to the ground, and then it happened. The zombies began to take notice. The noise was deafening. “ HRRRRRRRRRHHHH!” He thanked God that the Oans of this universe had been able to prevent the living dead from wearing the rings. As soon as Green Lantern had died… He took a peak over the edge of the sphere, where hands clawed and groped at the walls of his ship. No ring on his finger. It was Hal Jordan too. Hmm. “ GUUUUHHHH!” The little blue creeps must have embargoed the planet. Heh. “ HRRRRRRRRRRHHH!” “Will you shut up!?” He shook his head and jammed his make shift crowbar against the shrapnel that was lodged against his craft. He heaved and he puffed, and it came loose, and then he fell off the edge of his ship. He fumbled to get his footing back, but failed. He fell into the hordes of zombies. Before the sound of zombies engulfed him, he was able to hear himself shout. “Nu--!”
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:40:04 GMT -5
Steel Works: “What’s wrong?” Asked John Henry Irons, as he moved Lois Lane’s fringe to the side of her head, so he could see her eyes. She was leaning against him, his arm over her shoulders. “I’m worried.” “About?” He replied. “Everything.” “If you’re worrying about Luthor after that expose you wrote--” “Oh, I’m not worried about that. We have a good source for the piece, so it’s… It’s well founded. Not grasping at straws or anything.” She paused. “I’m worried about Superman.” John Henry bit his lip slightly, “Ah.” “It’s been over a month and there’s been no sign, and the Justice League say he’s on a deep space mission, but he’d tell me, you know? And now Clark isn’t taking my calls in Smallville, it’s just…” She nestled her head against him, and he squeezed her tight, which made her sigh loudly. “I think he might be dead.” John Henry let out a laugh. “Lois, don’t worry. It’s Superman. He can’t die. He’s not going to die. He’s…” He chuckled. “He’s Superman. He always comes back.” “Mm,” pouted Lois, “If you put it like that…” She pulled him close and kissed him.
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:40:31 GMT -5
Metropolis Central: “Maggie,” panted Jim Harper. He stood in the doorway of her office holding a piece of paper and looked on at the woman who was packing away her things. “You don’t have to go.” Where the Silver Banshee possessed Maggie Sawyer had blasted her way out of the building was a thick black sheet of plastic, taped down to prevent the elements from entering. “Maggie--” “Jim, please, don’t.” Her face was no longer blemished by the long thin scar, healed by her time possessed by the Silver Banshee, but she still had her long hair in front of her face. “I let the force down.” She was ashamed. “Oh, get over it, Sawyer.” She looked up as Harper’s tone changed. “Excuse me?” “You were upset? Yeah? No one cares! You faced a behemoth of destruction a year ago, you lost your friends, and now your lack of courage to face your fears nearly cost some good men their lives! If you don’t FACE YOUR TROUBLES, you will never HEAL.” He walked over to her, flickers of rage in his eyes. “You aren’t leaving.” “I’ve handed in my resignation.” “This?” He showed her the piece of paper in his hand. Her signature was at the bottom. “No, you didn’t.” “How did you get that? I gave it to Jones…” She was the young officer outside leap out of his seat and hurry to the toilet. Harper grimaced. “Yeah, well Jones knows when to not follow orders. Unlike you.” “I can’t, Jim… Please…” She began to sob. He grabbed her by the arms, and moved in close to her face. “Listen to me. You’re the only one who can run this team. The city is going to fall apart without you, do you hear me?” “What about you? You could always run the team 300% better than me, why not you?” “Me?” Harper smiled. “Agent James Harper.” He looked over his shoulder as two men in suits and a group of six armoured men walked toward the door. “We have a warrant for your arrest--.” “Maggie.” He pulled her close and kissed her passionately, and then took his shield from his back. “I’m kind of in an awkward situation with the man upstairs.” He winked and pushed the paper into her hands, and then dove through the thick black plastic that shielded the inside from the outside elements, the resulting commotion astounding the other officers who had formed a crowd around the Government agents. “Units twelve and three!” The lead man spoke into his intercom and then hurried towards the stairwell. “The Guardian is on the move! I need another battalion of Knights on the streets!” Maggie shuddered, and looked at the piece of paper. “I…” “Ma’am!” Nemo Jones stood at the doorway, as did the other officers. “What are your orders?” She looked again at the piece of paper, and then smiled grimly. “Suit up. Harper’s one of us. I’m not letting him go without learning WHY the suits are after him!”
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:42:38 GMT -5
Meanwhile, in another dimension… He rolled along the floor, just out of the reach of the shambling zombies that surrounded him slowly. “Oh, I’m an idiot…” He began to fire his weapon, and started decapitating any creatures that approached him with his sword. “Bull-crap, bull-crap, bull-crap!” His mind began to click over again. Where are the other heroes? He span around and shot into nothingness, only for the beam to hit the Flash, shambling at him with super speed. The scarlet clad former hero fell to the ground. Rip Hunter needed to get back into his sphere! He heard the ship begin to come to life, the debris begin to clear, and he saw hundreds of creatures shuffle towards him. Gotham City. He saw Batman in the distance. Nightwing. Among the citizens of this fallen world were heroes. Fallen heroes. He couldn’t allow this to go on. He dove toward the entrance to his craft and swung himself inside, falling once again to the bottom of the ship. “Gah! Gyroscope it is!” He began to climb manically to his chair and fell down into it, and then started to pull on levers and press series’ of buttons. The globe began to spin. He was safe inside, but outside anything within a metre range was torn apart. He watched as a cowl bearing head bobbed onto his screen, and then he shot up into the sky. “WOOOO!” He floated in midair, and then he watched as a smaller globe popped into reality. “What in…” It was small. Like a soccer ball. And across the front was… Rip squinted. Was that right? Or was he just imagining it? “ Justice League?” He opened the small door and was hit by a gust of wind. He moved the sphere closer to this small device and clutched it, then pulled it inside. And he smiled. With a swift movement he pulled a scanner from his belt and began to examine. “21st century technology, amalgam of Kryptonian and Thanagarian with… Extra dimensional Zeta particle traces! Nice workmanship and… This is my technology…” He found a slight bump on the part of the device that had the Justice League symbol emblazoned across it. He pressed it, and then it popped open. A small memory chip flew out and landed in his lap. “What’s this?” The shape was familiar. He placed the small chip into his computer and began to analyse further. “Zoinks…” “Rip Hunter. You are needed.” It had been tracking him! Following his chronal signature! The face was familiar, the scowl definitely… He had just wiped him off his windscreen! Batman! Except of course, alive. Breathing. On a world where he had stopped the Apokolips engine? Or maybe a world where Apokolips didn’t exist? He began to type in the coordinates into his flight computer, and then pushed down on the big red button to his left. He began to sing as his small craft began to hurtle through the multiverse once more. “ If you need me, call me…”
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:43:11 GMT -5
Antarctica: “<Primitive.>*” It hadn’t taken him long to reach Antarctica. He avoided populated areas, as not to draw the attention of the ‘Justice League’, and it had taken him twelve minutes to break through the solid ice sheath that hid the emergency entrance to the Fortress. Only Kryptonian eyes could see the keypad to allow entrance, and only one Kryptonians knew the code. It took Doomsday thirteen attempts to crack it. And then he was in. What next? Kru-El studied the configuration of the Fortress of Solitude. Kal-El, his half brother, had rebuilt a bastion of Krypton as a human would, without knowledge of where it came before or why. His grey hands moved swiftly across a computer panel, and he began to type. “<Reconfigure.>” The Fortress began to quake. “<Master Kal-El! Master Kal-El!>” A robot floated toward Doomsday, and then paused. <“You are not Master Kal-El! Alerting sent-->” “Hrgh.” He could destroy them. He knew where they could be brutalised with the slightest of ease. He scraped his grey palm across a bony protrusion that grew out of his knee, and black blood flecked onto the gold housing of the maintenance robot. “<Scan my blood.>” “<Scanning.>” The robot clicked and whirred until. “<Master Kru-El. Secondary protocols activated. What can we do, Master Kru-El?>” “<Reconfigure the Fortress as per specifications.>” “<Configuring.>” “<Activate teleportation matrix.>” (*Translated from Kryptonese)
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:43:31 GMT -5
Metropolis: He dove over rooftops, helicopters roaring behind him. He wished he had his armour on, but no, only his shield, which of course he took with him everywhere. He could hear the ricochet of tranquillisers hit the ground before him, but they couldn’t track him, couldn’t get a lock, his mind always thinking twenty-three steps ahead of his enemies. “Agent James Harper, please stop running.” A man in a black suit, flanked by two men in black armour, put up his hand. They had anticipated his route, got in front of him! “We have a warrant for your arrest.” He showed the Guardian the piece of paper. Official looking enough. He dove straight at the man, pushing him through the two men and then rolling to his feet, the man still in his hands. “You know that’s a lie.” He tore the piece of paper up and was grabbed on the shoulder by one of the Knights. And then the man squeezed, flesh rending and bone cracking. “GAH!” Harper slammed his shield into the man’s chest with his spare hand, and then leaped off the side of the building, plummeting towards the floor below. He landed hard, his knees buckling, but he didn’t give up. “Meta… humans…” He could feel his shoulder well up with blood. Damage had been done. He struggled up, and headed toward the head of the alley, only-- “Guardian!” He was stopped mid run by a familiar figure, Steel, standing in front of him. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?” He had ended up in Suicide Slum. That meant he was close. “Do you… do you trust me, Steel?” Guardian watched as the two armoured men after him jumped off the side of the building and landed hard, their feet not buckling as the concrete cracked around them. “Of course but…” “Give me time to get away…” He grimaced in pain, popping the broken bone in his shoulder back into a more convenient position.. “ Please.” Steel nodded, and raised his hammer. “Come on then, you creeps! You want the Guardian you’ll have to get through me!” The two men were grabbed by their heads by two massive metal hands as they tried to ignore Steel and run past him. The armoured hero threw them back, and watched as they stumbled to the ground below. “COME AND GET SOME!” The man on the rooftops shook his head, and began to speak into his intercom. “He’s turning the heroes against us. They don’t know the truth! He’s heading west!”
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:43:50 GMT -5
Stryker’s Island: Thaddeus Killgrave sat quietly in his cell. Five hundred years for crimes against humanity. He smiled. He had a plan. He always had a plan. His large head bobbed from side to side as he redid his equations. And then the rest of his cell shimmered blue. He had a plan but… His eyes focused in the dark. This was a teleportation portal. Looked like a Kryptonian power signature. A grey hand reached out to the small man. Was this a trap? His plan was in the early days of fruition but… He leapt out of his bunk and dove through the portal, only to reappear in the Fortress of Solitude, crystals shimmering everywhere. “Hullo?” “Thaddeus Killgrave.” The voice was deep, like gravel. Killgrave turned and nearly screamed. “I have a proposition for you…” Kru-El grinned.
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:44:36 GMT -5
Gotham City: The time sphere landed in the centre of a cave, just opposite a giant mechanical Tyrannosaurus Rex. The engine inside the craft whirled and buzzed, and Rip Hunter stepped out as soon as it died out, looking around. “Hello?” “May…” Alfred Pennyworth raised his blunderbuss and aimed it squarely at the red and green clad time explorer. “…I help you?” “I’m looking for Batman? My name is Rip Hunter, he sent out a message to me.” He held up the small signal device. “I hope I’m not… Going to get shot…” “Rip Hunter?” Alfred dropped the gun. “My apologies, sir. He is…” Alfred paused. “Ah.” “Umm… I do know that Batman is Bruce Wayne, by the way. I think that’s why he called me… I know that Bruce Wayne is Batman and that he’s going to propose to--” Rip paused, and hit himself on the head. “Sorry. I get messed up sometimes.” He groaned, and began to explain. “I travel through parallel realities. This is my home, and I keep messing up my continuities when I get back. You should have seen Superman’s face the last time. Him and Steel… Hrm…” “Would you like a cup of tea, sir?” “Thank you, yes.” Rip sat down in the massive chair in front of the computer. “Do you know why I’m here?” “Master Bruce…” he cleared his throat. “Superman is missing.” Hunter burst out of his chair. “What?!” His eyes darted around. “I should have known that… I should have…” He ran back into his time sphere and began pressing buttons and scrolling through files. “Oh crap.” Alfred peered through the entrance of the time sphere, curious. “(Is this blood?)” He groaned, as he looked at the outside of the sphere. “What’s wrong, sir?” “My files are corrupted! I spent so much time scanning other continuities and recording their histories I neglected my own!” He shook his head. “I don’t know… I can’t…” He took the cup and saucer Alfred passed him. “I don’t know how I can help.”
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:44:55 GMT -5
The Steelworks: “What’s wrong, John?” Lois took a sip of her coffee and looked at John Henry, who looked like he had just been pulled out of his seat by invisible strings, his eyes moving around constantly. “I’m… Something’s wrong with the Guardian.” He began to sweat. “He’s being chased by government operatives and…” He shook his head. “You said if I kept your secret you’d owe me, Irons!” Jim Harper crept through the shadows inside the Steelworks. “But I didn’t realise you were running the suit by remote control!” “What’s going on, Jim?” Lois stood up. “Why are they after you?” “Made a bit of a faux pas, I’m afraid…” Helicopters roared in the background. “What do you mean?” “My powers are mechanical in nature, Lois. Always have been. I’ve got implants beneath my skin that enhance everything. And they were starting to go wrong, so I went to Cadmus and they said they’d help me…” “Cadmus?” She thought back to the conversation she had with Vic Sage weeks ago. She kept meaning to call him back, see what happened with that line of enquiry… “And?” “They replaced the implants and I’m better than ever, but they…” He shook his head. “Shot me up with something. And my consciousness expanded and I have flashes where… I see through reality. Through the sky and into the eyes of the people who are watching us… (I know it sounds insane)” He took a breath. “I need to reach Hobs Bay. It’s UN soil. I’ll be safe.” “Take the sewers.” Irons grimaced as he began to sweat heavier. “Those armoured guys? They hit hard… I’m going to have to retreat myself… GAH!” He fell to the ground. “Is he ok?” “N-Neural feedback, Harper…” He pointed to a manhole in the middle of the room. “It leads down into the sewers. Head north.” “Thanks Irons.” The guardian pulled the manhole cover up and jumped down, and Lois quickly pushed the manhole back where it was in the first place. “Severing… suit… Connection.” Irons gasped as he stood up. “Better. Better…” He quickly looked around as someone knocked on the front door to the Steelworks. Irons thought fast. He sprinted to the other side of the room, and kicked the back door down, then ran back to Lois. He opened the door to six men who were standing there. “The Guardian… Just… He went through the back door! Tried to stop him but he… Just ran…” The lead agent looked the man up and down. “Thank you, Irons.” The group ran through the room and out the back, vanishing. “Lois, you should go… I’ll handle this.” She hesitated. Superman had always let her be part of the big plan, the big save, but John… She replied slowly. “Ok John… I’ll be back later though, ok?” He kissed her gently. “Ok.”
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:45:25 GMT -5
The Centennial Hotel: “What do you call this sport again?” Caesar guffawed at the question. “This, Sollis, is poker. And it’s not a sport, it’s a way of life.” The red haired man smiled. He wore a white t-shirt and blue jeans, whilst Caesar wore his usual glamorous attire. Lightray paused as he heard noises outside. “What is that?” “Sounds like helicopters…” Caesar cast a silent spell and slowed time for a moment, quickly checking his opponent’s cards before he noticed. The magician smiled. He had this hand down for sure. “…Don’t try to change the subject.” “We should go and see if someone needs help.” “Ok, if you win this hand, we’ll go help the peons, ok?” “Ok. I’m all in.” Sollis smiled and pushed all his chips into the middle of the table. “Sure you are.” Caesar blinked and then did the same. Sollis put his cards on the table and spread them out wide. “Royal flush.” “What? How can…” He arched an eyebrow. And then placed his own cards on the table, the cards in his hands not the ones he had just stolen. “Oh, that’s a nothing hand, Caesar. That is disappointing, isn’t it?” Caesar realised what had happened, “You cheated.” “So did you. Don’t try and cheat a God who can move at the speed of light.” He blurred from view for a moment, and then appeared dressed in his glowing white costume. “Now pay up.” “Fine, let’s go…”
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:45:48 GMT -5
Ace O’ Clubs: “And he falls over the live wire, pushes me out of the way, and lands face first on the floor!” Lois laughed. “Such a doofus! Saves my life, gets the story, but makes an ass of himself doing it.” “But one of our best reporters, don’t forget that, Lois.” Perry smiled and took a swig of his beer. “Yeah…” Lois sighed. “I know. Anyway, I have to go. Got a meeting with a union chief tomorrow morning so…” “I’ll see you later.” She stood up from her chair, kissed Lombard on the cheek, “(Happy Birthday)” and then headed for the door. Bibbo nodded to her as she gave him a wink, and then she was outside, in the warm summer streets of Metropolis. “Hey Lois.” “Hey, Ray.” Lois exited the bar and was met by her dishevelled co-worker, the man Perry had hired to write the obituaries for the paper. “Anyone interesting die recently?” Ray chuckled. “No. Maybe. I’m not sure.” He looked around the dark street, and smiled friendlily. “Want me to walk you to your car?” “Car? I don’t even own a car! You can always walk me to my door if you want though.” She smiled and he nodded. He wasn’t the most attractive man, his features were worn and old, his blonde hair was unkempt and straggly, dangling in front of his thin glasses and hiding his piercing blue eyes. His beard was untrimmed too, like he hadn’t bothered shaving for a couple of months. They began to walk, not noticing the man in the shadows behind them. They walked in silence, before Lois began to talk. “So, why obituaries, Ray?” “Straight to the heart of the matter?” He hesitated, and then continued, “Ok, it’s something I’m good at, I suppose.” He removed his glasses and began to clean them with the bottom of his pale yellow shirt. “How do you find out your good at writing about the deaths of people?” He chuckled. “I don’t know.” “Why the Daily Planet? I didn’t realise that we needed an obituaries writer.” “Well, you take us for granted. Tom Clemmins? The old obituary writer? His was the first I should have written.” “Clemmins? I didn’t even know he died!” “No one does. He called Perry and informed him that he was taking a vacation.” He replaced his glasses and sighed heavily. “He’s currently in his basement, in his freezer. Puts a whole new spin on the term ‘stone cold dead’. Huh. I suppose I should have told someone, but…” He shrugged. “I needed the job.” “Ray,” she laughed uncomfortably. “Are you telling me… You… You killed him?” “Yup.” Ray nodded enthusiastically. “With this gun.” He pulled out a pistol and aimed it directly at her head. “And I’m going to add one more to my list of… Targets.” “You can’t…” “LOIS!” The duo turned and a man dived at Ray, only to be shot in the chest and point blank range. He buckled to the floor, his hands clutching his chest. Lois Lane’s eyes widened. The large build. The black hair. The glasses. The voice. “Clark!” “Oh, what a pointless attempt at a rescue.” Ray Lang turned to her and once again prepared to fire at his intended victim. “Don’t worry Lois, this is only business. Maybe next time you won’t write about people above your station.” “Get… Away… From her!” Clark Kent jerked up, his fist connecting hard with Lang’s jaw, a loud crack emanating from the blow. He dived on the assassin, and began hitting him again and again and again, until he was unconscious, blood trickling from his mouth and nose. Lois looked on, confused, scared. “Clark… He shot you… What’s…” “Lois!” She turned and saw Perry White approach, cigar bobbing up and down in his mouth. Ron Troupe was on his cell phone, dialling the police or the paramedics. Maybe both. She didn’t know. “What happened?” “Ray… He tried to kill me! But Clark…” Lombard appeared at the front of the bar, followed by Bibbo, who ran over to Perry. “Kent?!” “Call the paramedics, he’s been shot…” She turned to her saviour, who stood uneasy above Ray. Swaying from side to side. “I think… I think he’s been shot…” Clark collapsed. Superman missing for all this time, Clark incommunicado? Things began to fall into place. Man of Steel. Bullets bouncing off his chest, invulnerability… “CLARK!” She ran over to him, and began to unbutton his shirt. He survived being shot at point blank. He saved her life. She ripped open the shirt to reveal… A bullet wound. Blood caking his chest. His eyes were tired and dull. “You… You’re bleeding…” “Couldn’t let… Him…” He reached a bloodied hand toward her face, and smiled faintly. “L-Lois…” He blacked out, his head lolling to the side.. Lois looked around. She didn’t know what to do. The words left her lips without thinking. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she cried over the dying body of her closest friend. “ Help… Superman…”
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:46:12 GMT -5
No one but me Can save myself But it’s too late.
Now I can’t think Think why I should even try?
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Post by HoM on May 13, 2007 15:47:49 GMT -5
To be continued in three weeks!
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Post by HoM on May 15, 2007 13:14:07 GMT -5
ACTION COMICS PRESENTS:
Escape To Krypton! [/i] Part Four: " From Frying Pan to Fire." Written by Roy Flinchum Edited by House Of Mystery[/center]
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Post by HoM on May 15, 2007 13:14:47 GMT -5
Catherine Grant watched as her hands grabbed the odd little pistol from her purse. She heard her cameraman question what she was doing. She felt the soft area between his legs give when she kicked him. She saw the Guardian and Maggie Sawyer standing before her as she pointed the odd little pistol and heard its whine fill the air. She then felt her finger pull the trigger and heard the phht of compressed air as it propelled the tiny 20 kilojoules-delivering cylinder from the barrel of the gun. Only thing was, for all this awareness… She couldn’t do anything about it!
Lucian Crowley watched in his minds eye. Through Grant he could see the pistol leveled dead on at Guardian and, through the Meta in the purple uni-tard, he could see the Guardian’s back, and through that man, he could feel the power emanating through his cuffed hand’s, threatening to overload the power dampening devices around his wrists. Either way Crowley thought, he would swoop in and save the day. The man who brought in the Guardian’s killer, and possibly a cop killer too, no way the Justice League could refuse him membership after that.
The ceramic plug hissed across the gap between Cat and the Guardian. Harper’s synapses fired so quickly that he was already dodging the attack before he realized it. He rolled out of the way and the plug struck the arrested Meta square in the chest, delivering its electrified payload. The man’s nervous system quickly shut down and the growing energy dissipated as he collapsed into a heap.
“Ms Grant! What are you doing? Lower that weapon!” Maggie Sawyer shouted as she drew her own weapon.
“Maggie wait’” Guardian yelled, “look in her eyes, it’s not Ms. Grant!”
“Grant or not we can’t let her . . .”
Another plug whizzed into the air toward Maggie this time. Guardian slung his golden shield outward like a proverbial bullet and the plug struck it as it passed in front of Maggie. Electrical energy fluctuated around the shield as its trajectory carried it over the roof of the building and into an abandoned building next door.
Crowley cursed under his breath. This was not going well at all.
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Post by HoM on May 15, 2007 13:15:14 GMT -5
Guardian, confident in his aim, was already moving once his shield had left his hand. He was on Grant in a second. With a swipe of his hand he knocked the small gun from her; and a well placed tap to the nerve bundle just below her ear rendered her unconscious. Crowley was now mad, and his anger had made him bold. He stood on the ledge of the adjacent building. He had one more chance to make this work. And he reached out his mind. He had tried earlier with the Guardian, but something had blocked him. The other one however, was all too easy.
Jim knelt beside Cat and lifted her wrist feeling for a pulse. It was strong and steady. “She’s going to be OK. I think it’s safe to say that we’re dealing with a telepath, and it would also be safe to say that he’s most certainly someplace close.” Jim carefully laid Cat’s hand across her stomach and began to stand.
On the rooftop the sound of police cars arriving on the street below could be heard.
“You take the streets, I’ll hit the rooftops.” Jim said as he turned to Maggie.
Maggie stood near the edge of the ledge. “Maggie.” Jim said. Slowly Maggie Sawyer turned toward Agent Harper, her weapon drawn at her hip. Her eyes were cold, glassy and welled with tears. “Maggie!”
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Post by HoM on May 15, 2007 13:15:38 GMT -5
The gun discharged as Jim Harper launched into the air toward Maggie and the bullet tore through his right shoulder. Harper caught Maggie around the waist and pulled her toward him as the pain in his shoulder shot through to his back as their momentum carried them over the edge of the building.
In the short distance to the ground Guardian twisted his body around to behind Maggie. His enhanced body absorbed most of the impact when they plummeted onto the hood of the police cruiser, glass flying everywhere and the metal shattering. But even though his body was enhanced, that didn’t mean it was invulnerable, and the Guardian was sure he heard several ribs crack too on impact. Crowley descended the stairs slowly. Where had he gone wrong? Everything was set up so very perfectly! He was going to step in and be the good guy. He had killed the first ‘victims’, the cameras were there, and the ‘madman’ in the purple suit was there too! All the ingredients needed for a good rescue! Of course she would have to die eventually but he could have even swooped in to save the police woman from her suicide attempt after shooting the Guardian! Guardian. Now he… He was the problem. Lucian Crowley stood at the door inside the old building. “I’m tired of waiting for my moment, tired of waiting for my fame. Tired of seeing others grab MY spotlight. I mean Plastic Man for God’s sake! PLASTIC FREAKING MAN! I know one way to make sure that the world knows Lucian Crawley!”
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Post by HoM on May 15, 2007 13:15:56 GMT -5
A paramedic rushed over and gently took the unconscious Maggie from Guardian as he climbed from the hood of the wrecked patrol car, clutching his side.
“Sir, don’t move, I’ll get some help and we’ll get you to the hospital.” The young patrolman said.
“No time son, uggnh”, the pain shot through Jim’s side. “Get Captain Sawyer to the hospital. There are two others on the roof. Guy in the purple suit is a meta, better let the MEMT’s handle him.”
Several other paramedics swarmed up and busied themselves with Captain Sawyer. Jim shooed away the ones that tried to attend to him, and watched as they loaded Maggie and Cat into an ambulance and sped away.
A young officer carrying Guardians shield walked over and handed it to him. Jim could taste the lingering metallic taste of ozone from the electric shock as it floated up off the metal. “Mr. Harper, Lieutenant HoM.” He introduced himself. Jim took the shield from the young policeman. “Thank you, Lieutenant, are you in charge here?” Jim looked at the police presence, six cruisers, about a dozen officers and a SCU unit, plus the crowd that had gathered beyond the police barricade.
“Yes sir.” HoM responded.
“I need you to get everyone clear of this area.”
“All the civilians have . . . “
“No I mean everyone, No people, no officers, no SCU.” Jim turned and sized up the jump it would take to propel him onto the police car and then onto the rooftop. He had already lost valuable time and his injuries would slow him down even further, if he let them. Guardian heard the chock ka-cock sound of thirty or so guns being cocked and levers being chocked into place. Harper froze.
Another voice, “Turn around now, Guardian. I want the world to know that The Great Agent Harper, Metropolis’s Golden Guardian, will be taken down by The Mind Eater. Right here, right now.”
Crawley pointed his finger at Harper and thirty or so weapons all fired at the same time.
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Post by HoM on May 15, 2007 13:16:38 GMT -5
To Be Concluded Next Time!
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Post by mockingbird on Jul 24, 2011 19:02:00 GMT -5
To let us know what you think of this issue, please visit the letters page here!
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Post by mockingbird on Jul 25, 2011 20:16:29 GMT -5
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