Issue #2: In My Time Of Dying (Part Two of Two)

The Shade waved him goodbye, as Richard left him to head home. It was an awkward farewell, Occult uneasy at the way that the Shade had gone about his business in Gotham, but slightly relieved that once again he had evaded death.

He sighed.

His head hurt.

And he was afraid. For the first time in a long time. He had kept his hands tight against the arms of the chair he had been sitting in, stopping them from quivering anymore than they were. He was scared! Him, alive for over a 100 years, scared of the dark. Scared of the place that he went to in Gotham.

Terrified.

He sighed once more, and moved the lapels of the black trench coat he wore over his face, hiding his cheeks from the cold. The current ensemble he wore made him resemble a classic gothic vampire, he thought, what with the fact he was clad in black from top to toe. It seemed that even though the Shade had been alive for over a hundred years, and amassed hundreds of fashions due to his journeys across the globe, they all appeared to be tailored made… in shadow black. His breathe was visible, and it was still dark out, though he had no idea if this was the same night he had set out to investigate the peculiar garden in Gotham. He exhaled deeply and watched as his breathe floated upwards. He smiled, enjoying the sight.

He kept walking, heading through the beautiful streets of Opal City, and looked up as it began to pour down with rain. He chuckled, and shoved his hands into his pockets, keeping his body as warm as he could without resorting to a simple enchantment. Even the most simplest of spells took the wind out of him nowadays, what with his ‘condition’, and he knew that he had to conserve his strength if he were to continue on with this journey he had set out for himself. The rain drops echoed out on the sidewalk below his feet, and he began to hurry. He enjoyed the city, it felt like hallowed ground, and he knew, somewhere in the history of the place, it was somewhere of questionable origins.

The rain picked up, and it hammered down on the ground, and Occult took shelter inside a doorway, and surveyed the scene. Wait. Something caught his eye. Shadows seemed to flutter in an alleyway opposite, and underneath the sound of the downpour… What was that? He looked to see if any traffic was approaching, and then hurried across the road, his hand tight against the sigil in his pocket. Damn. What was he getting himself into?

The alley seemed to be sheltered from the storm, the roofs above like jagged razors deflecting the deluge. Massive trash containers littered either side of the tight pathway. Something greasy squirmed below his foot as he took a step forwards, and then he saw movement behind one of the trash cans. “Hello?”

The woman in his arms was alive. He saw the way her bosom slowly rose up and down as her pale cheeks quivered as she breathed in. Alive. Not a loss. Her hair was died white and red, and she wore a tight black corset and long black skirt with the edges frayed outward. Her lips were covered in crimson lipstick, and her eyes were covered in black make up. A prime target for vampires. They always went for the quiet ones, the one who were more likely to believe their grandiose speeches on eternal life and magic. The Goths. The ‘witches’. The girls who buy a book of ‘spells’ from an eccentric shop keeper, and make love potions and voodoo dolls. That stuff doesn’t work unless you’ve got the right incantation, the right tools and materials, and like those internet bomb making instructions, the commercial spell books you can buy? The miss out vital ingredients or steps to either make the effort useless, or make them blow up in your face. Doctor Occult held her close to his body as his feet pounded down the sidewalk, and down the empty city road. He didn’t dare look back. But then again, he didn’t have to. The sounds! The noise!

“He took our meal!” roared the lead vampire, and he began to chase after Richard, even as he could hear the clatter of clawed feet on the roofs above, even though the rain tumbled down all around him. “Now he’ll be one!”

“Damn damn damn!” grumbled Occult. Vampires! And by the sound of the running on the roofs above, a whole nest of them! In Opal City! Why hadn’t anyone told him?

He knew the answer.

He was out of the game.

He’d been out of it for years, ever since… Rose.

Werewolves! He could deal with werewolves! He had, indeed, dealt with one a few weeks ago, but now vampires? He had no stakes! Sunlight was an option but it was the middle of the night! He could create some kind of massive mirror mechanism from air particles and reflect… He rolled his eyes. Not going to happen! And when they allowed the blood lust to completely overcome them they wouldn’t stop until they were dead or sated! Whichever came first! His feet echoed down the road, and he turned to see a man sprinting toward him. Damn! He knew that Opal City contained dozens of churches. Maybe if he could get into one, that would be a distraction so he could get his bearings, but this woman was slowing him down! The Shade! He could get to the Shade! But… No! His friend (if he could call him that) was behind the vampires, and their presence was making his head hurt even more so than usual! He heard the whispering in the back of his skull get louder and louder, ‘you’re going to die tonight, Richard’, ‘you’re going to be drained of everything’, ‘you’ll never see her again’…

“SHUT UP SHUT UP JUST SHUT UP!”

“Looks like our hero has a little problem in the sanity department,” mocked the lead vampire, as his scorched lackey followed close behind. “Maybe we can clear out your head for you.” He leapt at Occult, claws slashing at his back.

“GAHH!” Occult span around, and kicked up, slamming the man’s (if you could call him a man) jaw upwards, fangs puncturing gums and causing the creature to scream in pain as black ichor leapt out from between his crushed teeth.

“Bsstttrrd!”

“Yeah,” grunted Occult, as he picked up the pace, “I am.”

“Boss,” hissed the vampire with half of his face missing, and red stickiness being held on only by a taloned hand, “you ok?”

“Do I look ok?” growled the vampire, as he released his hold on his jaw, skin and bone hanging loosely in the most horrendous angle where his chin should have been. “DO I?”

“I don’t know how to answer that.” Said the creature, wide eyed.

“GET HIM,” ordered the injured vampire, “and save his neck for me. I’LL TEAR OUT HIS JUGULAR!”

“Yessir!”

“Damn,” muttered Occult, knowing his time was up. He looked up again, praying for some kind of miracle. “Think, think… Latin. Remember what Marcus taught you… Nam et si ambulavero in medio umbrae mortis non timebo--”

The pew at the back of the church was pushed away from the door with ease. “Here’s--”

“Shut up!” shouted the lead vampire, as he slapped the half faced creature who lead the large group inside the church on the back of the head. “I do not want your clichéd entrances ruining everyone else’s. We’re God-damn vampires! Creatures of the night! Not freaking Jack Nicholson!”

“You said ‘God’,” sniggered the second vampire.

“I WILL KILL YOU MYSELF!” snapped the vampire, his jaw slowly realigning as he spoke, but black ooze still dribbled out of his mouth. He rolled his blood shot eyes, and turned to Occult.

Occult counted five. He wracked his brains. He thought hard. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

“Well, duh,” replied the vampire with the melted face. “But first we’re gonna’ make you suffer.”

“Right, right,” agreed Occult, nodding his head.

“Well,” sighed the lead vampire. “You’re taking this very well.”

“I don’t want to make it hard for you or anything.”

“Right, yeah,” replied the lead vampire, as he moved his hand away from his mouth and moved around his jaw. His teeth were chipped, but at least he didn’t have to hold his face together like his companion. “What’s your name, magic man?”

“Richard,” replied Occult.

“Never heard of you,” sighed the creature. “Thought you’d be famous or something. You really messed up my jack-ass friend here, and he said you’re the reason we’re here in Opal.” He paused. “I mean, you really messed him up! That showed some promise. Thought killing you now would make us all famous in the underworld…”

Doctor Occult smiled. “How long have you been a vampire?”

“Forty years. Got bit in ’66.”

“Good for you.” Occult smiled. “I’m sorry about this then.”

“About what?”

“Ending that run.” He jerked his arm upwards, and his sigil burst with light, smashing the roof of the church out and allowing the rain to pour downwards. It slapped against the chunks of ceiling left intact, and drained onto the vampires below, and they looked on at Doctor Occult, bemused and laughing among themselves.

“Is that it?”

“I knew a guy once. Italian. Roman. Something. Clever guy.”

“Aaaand, your point?”

“This.” Occult cleared his throat, and pointed his hand at the spot where the rain was falling. “Exorcizo te, creatura aquæ, in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis, et in nomine Jesu Christi, Filii ejus Domini nostri, et in virtute Spiritus Sancti:--”

“What? Are you speaking Latin?” The lead vampire chuckled, and because of that, the others did too. “Are you serious? Come on, just…” He reached out, and his hand seemed to smoulder. “What?”

“--Ut fias aqua exorcizata ad effugandam omnem potestatem inimici, et ipsum inimicum eradicare et explantare valeas cum angelis suis apostaticis, per virtutem ejusdem Domini nostri Jesu Christ:--”

More smoke began to form against his skin, and the vampire watched as his flesh began to blacken. “What is--?”

“--Qui venturus est judicare vivos et mortuos et sæculum per ignem!”

“Oh, Christ.” The vampire watched as his flesh smoked. “You just… Blessed the rain.”

“Y’think, idiot?” the Doctor smiled, and then crossed himself, “Oh, and my name, dreg? Richard Occult.”

The vampires’ eyes widened collectively. “You’re kidding me.” The rain dribbled down their flesh, and suddenly trails of flame erupted from the beads that fell on them. The rain, inside the church, did nothing to alleviate their pain. The water made it worse.

Any water, thought Occult, inside a church. Holy.

“GAAHHH!” howled the vampire with half a face, as he darted for Occult, whilst the rest squirmed in their flame ridden death throes. He grabbed Occult by the throat and his fangs became bared as he moved toward his jugular. “GONNA KILL YOU GONNA KILL YOU!”

“Nope.” Occult brought his knee into the man’s crotch, causing the flaming vampire to howl even more so in pain. He didn’t budge. He drove further and further upwards, and then pushed the creature off him, into the centre of the downpour. “Not you.”

‘Ok. So you survived this round.’

“Shut up,” whispered Occult, “just shut up.”

The Future Is…

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The Witching Hour, of course. Xanadu was beautiful, they all agreed. She was the most beautiful one of them, and they always made the effort to be in her company. And she was, of course, the most guiding. The smartest. She had done tarot readings for every Administration since her teenage years, and had in fact prevented twenty nine assassination attempts with a flick of a card. She gazed into Richard’s eyes with her own, and spoke with a husky, sultry voice. “I have 365 reasons for you not to leave this room.”

“365? Pretty precise…”

“Do not be rude, Richard,” snapped the Shade. He had agreed to stick around to give Richard a lift home, and even the Shade knew not to question his reasons behind it. Even with two days of rest, Occult was still feeling weak, and not as his strongest. He knew he needed another few days of rest to get back to near his peak, and he knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Xanadu put up a hand, silk cloth slowly drifting down from her wrist to her elbow as she spoke. “Don’t worry, Shade, I’ve known Richard my entire life. I know how he gets.”

“No, Xanadu, I’m sorry,” Occult searched for the words. “I’ve just… I’ve not had a tarot reading in so long… And last time…”

“Rose,” nodded Xanadu. She knew all too well the effect it had on Occult when Rose vanished. “Sorry, I should have remembered.”

Doctor Occult removed his hat and placed it on his lap, then placed his finger tips on the edge of the table. “Yeah,” he tapped his fingers for a moment rhythmically, then looked back up to Madame Xanadu, and the Shade, who stood behind her, a black gloved hand resting softly on her shoulder. “Please, continue.”

The room went dark. Not ‘draw the blinds’ dark, but… Deeper. Richard glanced toward the Shade, but he had vanished. Occult shivered, remembering his experience in the Shadowlands. It was not an experience he ever wanted to repeat.

“I made a new deck for you, Richard,” whispered Xanadu in hushed tones. Occult could see her eyes rolling back into her head, her skin paler, her hair slowly moving as if caught in a draft, “drawn in life blood and history. Your history.”

“…My life blood?” replied Occult, his fingers pressing harder and harder against the table. He didn’t like where this was going. His head was beginning to ache more and more, and he could feel scratching… Against his soul… The demon that shared a place in his heart was awakening as the ley-lines of magic began to cascade together around him. “What do the cards say?”

She didn’t reply. She placed a hand over the deck of large cards, and took one from the top of the pile, but did not look at it. She placed her other hand on her temple and the card vanished, to where, Richard did not know. She took another card, and the wind picked up in the small dark room, and she placed her hand onto Richards. It was cold. He couldn’t feel blood pumping through her veins.

She placed the card on the table in front of him.

‘The Lovers’

She repeated the movement again. Hand to temple. The card vanished. Richard felt a shiver creep up his spine. Hand to deck. Hand to hand. Card on table.

‘The Magician’; slanted.

Again. No temple this time, straight to hand, and placed atop the last card.

‘The Devil’; reversed.

This was unlike any tarot he’d ever experienced. He could feel magic flow around him. What was happening?

‘The Hermit’

Hand. Temple. Gone. Hand. Temple. Gone. Hand. Temple. Hand. Occult was startled as her hand grasped his.

“THE MYSTERY.”

“What?”

“THE MYSTERY AND THE CONSPIRACY AND THE MAGIC THAT BINDS US ALL TOGETHER LIKE GLUE . THE ENTROPY CHILD WILL COME. THE CASTRATED DEVIL WILL GIVE UNNATURAL BIRTH TO HIS DEMON HORDE, AND MURDER VIRGIN AND CORRUPT ALIKE. THE WANDERER, WITH THIRST UNQUENCHABLE. THE WHITE AND THE BLACK. THE MADHOUSE BECOMES THE HELL HOUSE AND EVERYHTHING WILL FALL APART BUT SHE IS COMING…”

“She? Who’s she? Rose? DO YOU MEAN ROSE?”

“THE WHITE AND THE BLACK AND THE NAKED CULT OF IN-BEGINNING AND-- AND-- AND-- AND--!”

She collapsed onto the table in front of her, and her cards rose into the air and began to whirl about, caught in the maelstrom of magic that swirled above their heads. Richard grabbed the his sigil from inside his coat pocket, and held it high above their heads, and then glanced down to Xanadu who looked like she was having a seizure. The Shade was still absent, and he didn’t show any sign of turning up. This was on him now. On Doctor Occult’s shoulders. He watched as bolts of magical lightning cracked down on the table and he knew he had to stop this. He raised up his hands, and concentrated. He knew magic. Magic was once his life blood. He raised his hands into the air, his fingers outstretched, and began to chant. Xanadu looked up from the table she had fallen head first onto, her nose trickling blood. “R-Richard…” He ignored her, and continued to chant, and the lightning began to shift, and magic began to journey toward him, instead of Xanadu. He chanted louder and louder until the magical maelstrom struck him full force, and entered his body. His chanting halted, his screams resounded as he convulsed to the ground, and then suddenly the ley-lines dissipated, and he was aware of everything.

“Madame! Richard!” The Shade was back in the room, and he hurried over to the two people, helping Xanadu to her feet and handing her a solid black handkerchief, and then assisting Occult to his feet. “What happened?”

“Something… Does not want Richard to know his way…” muttered Xanadu.

Richard didn’t speak. He felt awake. He felt, for the first time in a long time, awake. Damn. He was imbued with magic. Potent magic. The demon inside him flexed it’s muscles. It had grown. Its influence was confined to his soul, a place no measurable by earthly standards, but he knew that his heart had grown a bit blacker. His headache was alleviated too, and he groaned. Damn. Damn! “You have my cards,” he whispered, “please, Madame,” he looked to the table. “read them.”

“Of course,” replied Xanadu, as she took her seat once more. Richard walked awkwardly back to where he had been sitting. The Shade’s hand left Xanadu’s shoulder, and he returned to the shadowy parts of the room.

“‘The Lovers’,” she began, pointing to the two cards next to each other, “strange to have them appear twice in the deck… But that’s what these will do to you.” She smiled reassuringly to Richard. It didn’t help. She continued. “You’re going to have to follow your heart on matters, ignore what your mind tells you, and follow your heart. A proposition will be made and it will have major repercussions for not only yourself, but for the world around you.” She pointed to the reversed card, beside it. “Internal conflict. Indecisiveness…” She looked back at the normal card. “Contradiction.”

“Yeah, I got that…”

“Richard.” Snapped the Shade from his secluded post.

“Sorry, continue.”

“You will need guidance,” she stated, pointing to ‘The Hermit’, “both spiritual and physical. A guide on your journey, who does not want to interfere.” Richard glanced to the darkness where the Shade stood, who pouted and then turned away.

“And the quest you are on at the moment, to search for a man reborn of lightning… Is not the one you should be on. The cards reveal a path has always been travelled. That the answer you seek… Rests inside the person who sent you on it.”

“Jay?”

“No longer…Your responsibility… Though the Entropy Child…” she wandered off, and then suddenly became sharp, focused. “And ‘The Devil’. This is where I sense such conflict… So many paths. So many Devils... I cannot…" She stopped. "You will be summoned.” She nodded slowly. “By someone who will direct you to a place you will face such horrors. Such things you will not forget. And then…” She closed her eyes. “And then I see nothing. I see darkness.” She turned to the Shade. “I… Oh, my lord, I cannot see any further.”

Richard Occult rose from his seat. “Madame.” He took her hand, and kissed it gently. “I cannot… Hope to change my fate. We all know things like that are cast in stone.”

“No!” Snapped the Shade. “Your fate is what you make it! You cannot resign yourself to a fate of someone else’s making! I refuse to accept that!”

“Shade…” smiled Occult. “I’m not going to go easily. I’m going to fight this with everything I have, but… With my situation… My life at the moment…”

The Shade grimaced. “Richard…”

“It’s ok, old friend.” He sighed. “I am going to go home. I am going to sleep. And then… We’ll see where my fate takes me tomorrow.” Doctor Occult sighed. No matter how refreshed he felt, he knew that was not a good thing. Months ago, he had told Jim Corrigan that he was pulling back, and then a month ago, he had told Barry Allen he would search for Jay Garrick, but all that… Was at the wayside now.

Xanadu bowed slightly, and watched as Richard Occult vanished in a burst of red and black light. As soon as the lights faded into nothing, she began to speak again. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh?” The Shade’s hands crept over Xanadu’s shoulders, and he squeezed them reassuringly. “You do?”

“I felt the darkness during the tarot. I can guess.” She tensed up. “I…” The cards that were strewn out across the table became fully visible to her, and then she knew. She knew what was going to happen. The future was laid out for her like a map. She relaxed. “You aren’t the Hermit. You’re the Devil. The darkness that is coming… It’s you.”

“You know the truth then, Madame. I think you cannot blame me for doing this then.” He raised his hand slowly over her head, her eyes shut tightly, and then, without a word or a scream, she was gone, sucked into a portal of shadow, gone from this reality and into another. “You really cannot.” The Shade walked over to where his top hat resided, placed it on his head with a smile, and vanished into another portal, to points unknown.