Issue #6: Houses of the Holy

"Doctor! Richard! Doctor Occult!" The Flash welcomed him with open arms. "You did it! You brought Rose back! You did it!" It was a strange feeling. Static electricity sparked across his chest as Barry Allen embraced him. They were never friends. Richard was very rude to Barry the first time they really met, so why would he deserve such a welcome? Rose held tightly to his hand as he emerged from the hole in reality in the greenhouse, black and red energy sparking as he tore his way back home. The Justice League stood on the garden outside, helicopters roared overhead, Superman was hovering in the sunlight, and Batman was in the shadows. Aquaman and Wonder Woman stood side by side and Green Lantern lowered the green shield that sealed off the mansion and grounds from the world as he descended. The Martian Manhunter held back, suspicious, but a smile on his lips regardless.

"I did it..." Richard grinned, and embraced Rose, holding her as tight as he could. "I saved you. Like you saved me. And we're together and nothing can tear us apart."

"I love you, Richard, I really love you."

"I did it. I really..." He shook his head. His trench coat was on fire! FIRE!

FIRE! Fire licked at his heels as he stepped through the hole in reality to the hell dimension that Rose was inside. Somewhere. He gasped in pain, sharp shards of agony filling his soul. He steeled himself, his Sigil sang, and he was protected for the moment. He shook his head.

Memories of lies filled his being. This was Hell. He was in Hell, a place no living being should enter.

"She burns, Richard!"

"Whore! Whore! Whore!"

The voices screamed. Tongues licked and lashed and chains rattled from everywhere.

Hell was a vast, endless place. Spiralling down, down, downwards, down among the dead men, and here was Richard, at the ridge, at the beginning. He didn't say anything. He simply took a breath; caustic, acidic air filling his lungs as he leaped forward. Toward the bottom of the pit. Toward the void.

"You called, Richard?" It was Jim Corrigan's voice that echoed out, following the thin whine of the whistle, but it was the Spectre, in all his glory, that appeared before the conglomeration of demons, his cape swirling about as his being became physical. "You, demons of the void, now is the time for suffering, for the damnation you offer to all those you touch!" He engulfed the creatures, their claws and teeth and tails raking at the cold stone ground, nails splintering on the surface, flesh rending as the Spectre absorbed them into his being. Rose staggered out of the fires as Richard doused them with the purity of his soul, and she fell into his arms.

"Richard... I knew... You would... Come..."

"I did it..." Richard grinned, and embraced Rose, holding her as tight as he could. "I saved you. Like you saved me. And we're together and nothing can tear us apart." His eyes widened. "No. This is..."

He shook his head, violently, and the air whipped about him. He was plummeting downward. Screams echoed unbounded. Hands reached out from the cells of Hell, reaching for hope, for anything. "Save us!"

"I didn't know, I didn't know what he meant!"

"Hero!"

"He touched me... I had to... Had to..."

"He's coming."

"Oh, I know."

Time bent about him. He could quip, smile, laugh, make a scathing comment about the conditions of this place, but now was not the time for banter. His Sigil burned in his hand, the red and black energy crackling like a vapour trail following him. Spells of protection tattooed on his wrist by pure magic, chants whispering off the amulets hanging off his neck. The scars on his chest preventing possession.

"I have to go. Do not go at this half-cocked, old friend. You would not be wise to go into Hell unprepared. Nor alone."

"Hell. This is Hell we're talking about." Richard paced the room. "Rose would not want me to... Want me to do this... Would she?"

"That’s for you to ask yourself." The Spectre rose up around him, his ephemeral state looming up in the room, towering up above Richard Occult. "You damn yourself by entering Hell freely, do you not? Would you wager your soul for nothing? The game is rigged against you. The cost high."

"I don't know..." Richard clutched at his head. "I don't know what..." He looked up. "I fight because I have to. I do this because I need to save Rose. She is my soul. It doesn't matter what she wants, it's about what she deserves. What we deserve. We deserve our time together."

"Then you have damned yourself!" The Spectre rushed toward Richard, but the green and grey being passed through him, and Richard continued to descend. He was picking up speed now. How long had he been falling? Time held no meaning here. It was only actions that counted, wasn't it? Thoughts flaked off of Richard. He held fast. He could stop himself at any moment. His Sigil allowed him that. But what was he doing? Why was he?

"Richard?" He sat staring out of the window, gazing with lazy eyes out to the meadows below. "It's time for your dinner, Richard." She gripped his shoulders tightly. "Would you like that?" Her hands moved down his back, and onto the handles of the wheelchair. "We'll go on a grand adventure."

"Rrrrroseeee..." He dribbled as he spoke, each word an eternity leaving his lips.

"Yes, Richard?"

"Whattttt... Wurrrrr... Arrrrr yuuuu?"

"I'm right here, don't you know? I'm here. Don't worry, honey." She wheeled him out of the room, and the doctors looked down at him with contemptuous eyes. Contempt for his infirmity, for his illness. Trapped inside himself, they said. Sometimes, moments of clarity dawned on him, and that was the worst. Other times they left him out by the window, the catheter collecting his urine, tubes feeding him. When he was lucid, they got him moving a bit. But the contempt... "Doctor, how are you?"

"Nurse Seekeck. I'm fine, how about you." He smiled, and Rose stopped the wheelchair. She moved in front of Richard, who simply sat, his gaze locked forward, and looked around.

"I'm good... Now..." She pulled the doctor's tie close to herself and he laughed, and the kissed. Richard's hands began to tighten around the bars of the chair. "I missed you last night... Maybe tonight...?"

The doctor checked his watch. "Maybe right now we could... You know... Unless you have somewhere to be..." He motioned toward the room next door, and Rose giggled, and leant in front of Richard.

"I'll be a few minutes, Richard. Will you be ok?" Her eyes... Empty. She was just like the rest of them. Nothing. Drones.

No. "No." That's not right. "That's not right at all." She was special. Her eyes glowed in the moonlight. Her skin glistened as the sun rose. He could trace their lives from her foot to her neck, his finger moving slow and smooth over her naked flesh. She was flawless and this thing? Nothing. A cipher.

"What?"

He grabbed her arm. "No. This isn't right. This is Hell doing this. I need to focus. Need to hold onto the reason I'm here."

The doctor dropped his clipboard, and grabbed Richard's arm. "Let go of the nurssssssse." His tongue slathered out of his fanged mouth. His eyes flickered purest black. "You don't desssseerve her..."

Richard laughed. "You're in my head? Playing on my worst fears?" His fist crashed through the doctor's skull, and black ichor met his finger tips on the other side. "Do. Your. Worst."

He shifted back into reality. The ground! He threw his hands forward, and mere inches above the ground, he froze. "Hhhh!" He flipped over, and his soles hit the floor. Clickety-clack. Hell loomed every which way in view. Cages of human flesh held tight by chains of metal that lead upwards and out of sight. He had never been here before. He had never known... He cast the thought to the back of his head.

Where was the welcoming committee? He wasn't invading Hell, per-se, but he wasn't being especially subtle in his entrance. Not that he was saddened by this, but he'd inscribed defensive spells to his shoulders, offensive spells to his fingers, his back was inked with a Key of Solomon, another counter-measure against demonic attack. His tattoos intersected, moved outward, and all in all, he was impervious to physical attack, his mind was strengthened, though apparently not water tight, but he was ready.

The Shade approached him slowly, his walking stick echoing on the concrete. Flesh hardened to stone, chains beneath, layers upon layers of dead meat like rock. "You've come far, Richard!"

"I'm quite surprised to see you here, Swift."

Dickie Swift rubbed his chin. "Yes, me too. I was drawn here. To help you, I do think."

Occult steeled himself, pulled himself out of the Hell induced hallucination, and then blinked. The Shade continued to walk toward him. "You're real."

"All too." His cane clickety-clacked toward Occult. "So this is what it has come to?" Demonic taint flickered on the edge of his face. Black veins sprouted and then receded. "You're here, I'm here, over the gullet of Hell itself. Not very Dante-esque, don't you think?"

"You've been tainted."

"Yes." He cringed, demonic taint gripping him. "Yes, I have. And it feels... Good." He looked up, his eyes black voids. "I don't know why. I really don't, Richard. I took Xanadu. Why did I..." He looked at his hands, and dropped his cane. "Why did I..." He clutched his face, his fingertips gouging into his skull. "WHY DID I..." His hands jerked down. Black ooze wormed its way out of his face. He dusted himself down, crouched to pick up his cane, and then straightened up. "I'm going to have to kill you now."

Richard Occult shook his head. "You can't kill me."

"Can’t I?" Black tendrils of shadow force whipped out from the ground and nearly toppled Occult, who bent back, pushed himself up with one hand, and then stood tall.

"No, you can't. That then, was that a threat? A show of strength? You pushed me over. I'm positively... Quaking."

"Bravado does not suit you, Occult. I preferred you snivelling and afraid." He licked the black blood as it trickled down the side of his mouth. His face blurred as he twitched, his hands jerking straight down, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Am I late or are you are early? I never like it when people are early. Shows you're too obvious. Too wanting. Too much of something I do not like."

Richard's eyes widened. He whispered a reply. "I aim to please. Myself, not you."

The Shade straightened up once more. "You remember. Hrrrrrrrargh..." He gripped his skull, and his face drained into an expression of desperation. "Oh, God, Richard, he has me. His mind like maggots festering in my brain and I can't..." He screamed, fingernails on chalkboard. "...YOU KNOW THEN, DO YOU?"

"He didn't kill you then, did he, Scratch...?" The worst demon, outside of the fallen Nephilim that was once bound to Richard Occult's soul, was manifesting, right here, in the body of the Shade. The demon that Richard had made human with a slice of his own soul. The demon that punched a hole through the Shadowlands to bring his family into the world, his family of Old Gods. The demon that the Shade, before now, was supposed to have killed.

The Shade grinned, his posture changing. "Oh, I am prepared for every demise, Richard." His eyes became spikes of red. "My family tainted the Shadowlands quite simply by travelling through them. No sentience can withstand our influence for long. The Shade was simple enough to twist from the inside out after that. Manifesting through him to remove Xanadu from the field. She was going to be your guide, I do believe." He shrugged. "Not anymore. She's down here. Somewhere. Transplanted through the Shadowlands." He tapped his foot on the cold hard flesh below. "Into the void. With my family."

"You bastard." Richard was circling the Shade, who was following his gaze. "You absolute bastard. It's all starting to make sense. Xanadu's prediction."

“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--!”

The white and the black. Death? The double edged sword of Death's power that was inflicted upon Richard himself and the dying gangster? The moment of enlightenment that pushed Richard further upon the path of redemption and cured him of the passenger lurking behind his eyes?

"She always did have a flare for the dramatic," smiled the Shade. He never smiled as much as this. Under Scratch's influence, he was a terrifying presence. "I have an idea of who the Entropy Child is, by the way. He'll be joining us shortly. I'm going to use his body as my own, so I can rejoin the ranks of the living with a bit of power. A connection to something beyond his puny understanding."

"The one person I forgot about in this game. You mean Kid Eternity, don't you? You were the one who took him off the board, and you're the one going to bring him back, I suppose? And the castrated demon bringing his horde back? I guess that's you." Occult laughed. "You never did have any balls, Scratch."

"Ho, ho, let's get personal. So you're without a guide, are you? You should know, never come to Hell without someone watching your back. It can't end well."

The ghost-whistle never felt more needed than right now. But he only had one time to use that. Only one use. "So what now, Scratch? You're going to kill me?"

"It crossed my mind." Black energy cracked from his fingertips. "I'd make you suffer first. I'd take you to your poor old wife, who suffers as we speak, and I'd kill her one hope of freedom right before her eyes. And as time is eternal here, without measure, I could torture you for years and still be down in the void within a few minutes. Because it's down in the void where time is less... Fluid. But time is still time and hurt is still hurt."

"Come on then, you bastard. Come on. Kill me. Make it worth it." Occult opened up his arms, and closed his eyes. The Shade drifted toward him, smiling. He leaned in close, his cold breath and the flutter of lips felt next to Richard's ear.

"We’re going to have--"

Richard grabbed the Shade's face. "We're going to have so much fun." He slammed the Sigil into the Shade's chest, holding his face fast as the energy cascaded across the possessed man's body.

The Shade, his hands shaking, drew up his own fingers and grabbed Richard's eyes, and laughed. "Let's go for a ride!"

The two were sucked into another portal, and the darkness permeated around them. The Shadowlands. Richard grinned. "I'm not scared anymore. I'm not scared of anything." He screamed a spell of disenchantment, and the two landed hard on the cold concrete flesh of Hell. The Shade began to seize, and then his mouth opened inhumanly large, and a man was vomited up, coated in blackness. The Shade's mouth snapped closed, and he scrambled backwards.

"What? What... Oh, God." Scratch, drenched with the ichor of the Shadowlands, looked up at The Shade, who stormed toward him. Richard nodded slowly. "You can't kill me! I'll help you! I'll help you!"

"You... used me..." Shadows cracked his bones, starting with his fingers. They moved up. Every bone in his hands shattered. "You... Stole my body... But I could see... Everything!" Scratch screamed. "EVERYTHING!"

"You can't kill me! You can't! You're a hero! Y-y-" his wrist snapped into a dozen pieces. Then his forearm. Snap snap snap. "Oh, God, Richard, Richard...!"

"Don't kill him, Shade." Occult stepped forward. "Too easy." The shadows continued to wrack Scratch's body. The sound was unbearable. "He'd end up back here, anyway."

"Guuuuhhhhhhh..." There was a horrific rending sound as the bones in his shoulders shattered. The Shade's eyes were black. His face had sealed up from where Scratch had gouged into it. "GAhhhh..."

"I'm no hero, little man." Toes. Feet. Ankles and knees. Legs and hips and ribs. His spine was the only thing left intact. "And I'll never be a hero to people like you." The Shade cast Scratch aside, his body dead weight. "Oh. I forgot." Another shadow crept up, and lashed against Scratch's back. Snap.

Richard Occult said nothing. "You didn't have to do that."

The Shade looked back at him. "I know I didn't. But it felt good."

Occult nodded slowly. The Shade was a scary man. If he was still a man, after all this, he thought. Occult looked across the floor, and saw the gaping maw of the void only a few metres away. "I need a guide apparently, Shade. Someone to lead me where angels dare tread."

"Xanadu's prediction."

“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.

"Do you want to come with me?"

The Shade recovered his cane. "Not particularly, Occult. I'd rather leave now. Return home and wash. For years."

"Then you're the man for the job. Down the rabbit hole we go."

"And him?" The Shade pointed at Scratch. "He doesn't appear to be dying."

"No, he doesn't. He got what he wanted. Immortality." Occult brought his Sigil up once more. "Shame." He began to whisper. The cold hard flesh of the bottom of Hell began to rumble, and then suddenly, it opened up beneath Scratch, and absorbed him inside. It sealed, and a pair of eyes joined the strange tapestry of flesh. "Unblinking. For eternity."

"Now what?"

"We descend into the void. Madame Xanadu awaits. And Kid Eternity too, apparently."

"And..."

"Rose."

“To the void then, Richard.”

Doctor Occult nodded. “To the void.”