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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:04:32 GMT -5
“In the past, I have attempted to corrupt individual men, but why go to all that trouble when I could corrupt those who lead by example?” Tala said. As she spoke of this, a great amount of excitement was evident in her eyes.
“Chaucer had the right idea, 'If gold rusts, what will iron do?' I doubt he expected that idea to help towards such a disgusting act.” Ryan said.
“What do the Lords of Chaos gain from this?” The Stranger asked.
“They seem to be recruiting more soldiers for their idiotic war. I believe the deaf bell ringer was who they had their sights set on, though now that you have reached him, the effort seems pointless.” She closed her eyes and licked her lips. “That doesn't mean I still can't play with my new followers though. Kill these intruders!” Tala yelled out, directing her minions to attack.
The hooded priests charged towards the Phantom Stranger and his ghastly companion. The Stranger pointed his hand towards one of them, and knocked them to the ground with a flash of light.
“Ryan, we must contain these men without hurting them, they must--” Before he could finish his sentence, his body was paralyzed by Tala's dark magic.
The four priests circled around Ryan, each held a mace with mysterious symbols inscribed on the handles. One of them swung at the ghost and hit his shoulder.
“Agh!” Ryan yelled out. “How did they hurt me?”
Another two men sandwiched Ryan, both ready to swing. As they lunged towards him, the spirit phased through the stone floor, causing the priests to knock each other out.
The next hooded man gripped his mace tightly, extended his empty hand towards the ghost, and threw the weapon. As it hurled through the air, Ryan held his hands out in front of his body. The mace made contact with his hands, and he winced as he held onto it. With the magic imbued weapon in his possession, he flew forwards and jabbed it into the stomach of the now empty handed priest.
Tala approached the Stranger and caressed his cheek with her fingers.
“Why do you waste your time with these humans? This world is full of nothing but hatred and sinning, it is too tempting to not condemn them Hell where they belong.”
He balled his hand into a fist and forced his mouth open. “They are capable of great things, they only need a guiding light.”
“And you are that light?”
“When I am needed. They are stronger then you think.”
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:05:39 GMT -5
Ryan floated over to the final priest, looking the man in the eyes. The priest, hands shaking, dropped his mace and fell to his knees.
“P-p-please, have mercy.”
“Mercy? Do you deserve it for the crime all of you have been involved in Father Broome?” Ryan said to the priest. He floated in, inches away from the man's face. “Who was it that murdered Ryan Montgomery?!” He screamed.
“It...” the priest lowered his head in shame, “It was me.” Father Broome slapped his hands onto his face, covering his eyes. “You don't know what it's like. I'm supposed to teach by example, to be virtuous so that others will live their lives the same way. They all come to church for selfish reasons. Nobody practices what we preach. Nobody!”
“I did.”
The priest lifted his hands off of his face, showing the tears that streamed down his cheeks.
“That's not enough! She promised us power, and respect! It's more than I could ever expect from the people who come to church on Sunday, and then forget about our teachings for the remaining six days of the week. I never wanted to involve you in this Ryan, your soul was pure, but mine has been corrupted beyond recognition.”
“It's a shame that we could not have been allies, but you have chosen your side and I mine.” Tala said to the Stranger.
“Our relationship is not a result of our alliances, it is because of your twisted perception of life. We never could have been allies.” Tala squinted her eyes in response to the Phantom Stranger's reply.
“I'm giving you two options Broome! You and your cult must turn yourselves into authorities and confess your sins, or you will never be rid of my spirit. I swear this on my soul and the God that you and I once both worshiped, I will haunt you for the rest of your life.”
The priest bowed his head. “Of course. I must pay for my actions.”
Ryan looked over to see the Stranger, still in the clutches of Tala's magic. He took the mace he had acquired from the priest and heaved it at the woman, smashing the jewel on her chest. As it shattered, she let out a scream and the Stranger was released from her hold. He lifted his arm and pointed his hand at her, which glowed with a magical light.
“Return to Hell Tala, and tell your employers that they will not take this soul.”
“It doesn't matter, there will be more. They already have their sights set on another, one by the odd name of...Massachusetts I believe. Either way, our paths will cross again, Stranger.” With her final words, Tala entered the hole in which she had came from earlier.
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:06:05 GMT -5
Close to an hour later, a crowd of news teams and random bystanders had formed outside of the church, surrounding the police officers guiding the handcuffed priests into vehicles. Father Broome turned his head and looked to the roof of the church at the Phantom Stranger and Ryan.
“I think my time here is done.” Ryan said, looking at his slowly disappearing body. “I think I'm finally moving on.”
“I wish we could have known each other under better circumstances, but my time with you has been exceptional.” The Stranger replied. At this point, half of Ryan's image had dissolved.
“Wait, who are you? What is your name?”
“I have long forgotten my real name, but some recognize me as the Phantom Stranger.”
“Well, whoever you are, thank you.” The Stranger responded with a tip of his hat as the soul of Ryan Montgomery faded away to another life.
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:06:27 GMT -5
I have no real place in heaven or hell, though I do not belong in the mortal plane either. I do not remember my past, and I do not know what the future will bring me. One thing that I do know is that there are souls that are lost in their journey to another life, and I possess the abilities to aid them in their travels. To some I am looked at as a friend, but to others, I am no more than a helpful stranger. I do not ask for anything more than that.
End?
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:09:18 GMT -5
Manitou Raven in
Raven's Quest
Written by Crow Crow again, with another tale of mystery, this time focusing on the stange character of Manitou Raven, but as the first of two breaks from the norm in this book, I must warn you, this will be unlike anything you've read on the site, and it's all the better for it! |
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:09:42 GMT -5
Into the forest, pass the mundane and norm,
darker and darker become the shadows that formed,
in a place where magic and witchery exist,
were a tribe of natives who secretly lived,
and of them, one night, a young shaman once roamed,
over death, under danger, to places unknown,
he found where trees grew crooked and craven,
when lakes were dried and sea waves end,
and out he called, mighty and brazen,
"Speak to me Fates, so speaks the Raven!"
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:09:57 GMT -5
And out came three witches, who really were one,
Weird sisters they were, from darkness they'd come,
and Raven looked to the Maiden, the Mother, the Crone,
expecting verses or curses, blood, teeth and bones,
and out from the Crone's mouth came an unexpected taunt,
she said "Okay, little man, what do you want?
You call us forth, expecting thundering and rubble,
Expecting double, double, toil and trouble,
Our time is limited, we'd like to rest,
Now give us one question a piece, and we'll try our best".
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:10:17 GMT -5
Raven's brow arched, thoroughly surprised,
But he asked his first question, thoughtfully wise,
"My tribe grows larger, bigger in size,
how can I answer their problems and cries?"
The Maiden spoke with tears in her eyes,
"You won't, tonight your tribe meets their demise",
"How" Raven asked, and said she "Not so fast,
One question, young Raven, is all that is asked".
To the Mother, he spoke, "How will my tribe meet its end?"
She gave a kind smile and said "Listen little friend,
tonight betrayal will kill your kin,
destruction and disaster follows therein",
Raven asked "Who?" and said Mother "Not so fast,
One question, young Raven, is all that is asked".
To the Crone, he said "How do I find the destructor of my tribe?"
She said "Follow your totem, and he'll be your guide",
And the witches then left, in a cloud of fire and smoke,
and in sorrow and grief did young Raven choke.
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:10:34 GMT -5
He raced home to his village, darkness below and above,
And found everyone dead, even his love.
He wept and he wept, over Dawn, his white dove,
His heart was lost with nothing left to dream of.
And for the following week did he bury each man, woman and child,
the graveyard he made stretched far pass a mile,
and when he was done praying for family and friends,
he sought retribution, he wanted revenge.
A headdress he donned, that had wisdom and sight,
and a dream catcher which recorded history and life,
and a hatchet that could cut through anything cruel,
And the magic of the earth, Raven's greatest tool.
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:10:53 GMT -5
Then a Raven did fly, up over his head,
leading him into danger, heaven forbid,
through trees and gardens and thorns and more,
through seas of monsters, and dead galore,
until he reached a fortress so tall and so wide,
that the uppermost part touched Heaven's underside.
Inside he faced ghouls who roses from the dusts,
and ghosts and banshees that were wicked and rough,
demons who sought souls and succubi, lust,
but after so long, enough was enough,
once he had killed all the monsters within,
he cried out "Come out you killer-of-children!"
But the only person who came out, was a man such as he,
he was bloodied and wounded and seeking relief,
Raven ran over, seeking to help the battered drifter,
Trying to cut open his vest; the hatchet would cut it much quicker,
But the hatchet did sink, and the man did scream,
his chest was torn by the hatchet, he was evil it seemed,
he knocked back young Raven across the reach of the room,
and began to thunder about, shouting evil and doom.
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:11:11 GMT -5
"You've stung me little shaman, when I sought to deceive,
so if you wish to live I think you should leave",
Raven arose strong, his weapons all ready,
he bravely declared "I will stand steady".
And the man laughed and bellowed "You dare think to fight?
I'll crush you and eat you for my dinner tonight,
Though I must admit, your village seemed a good meal by sight,
They tasted too pure to whet my appetite,
But your brother, oh I liked him a lot,
I guess betrayal adds spice to the pot,
For his quest to find power I gave him sin instead,
He now rots in my stomach long, cold and dead",
And then he grew and he grew, a man no more,
He was a Chief among chiefs, a giant of war,
Though Raven did fear and tremble in place,
He looked up into the giant's giant face,
and he steadied his hand for Heaven's embrace,
And leaped nimbly into death with honor and grace.
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:11:34 GMT -5
And because his heart was pure, his ravens returned,
they added fire to his touch, oh the giant did burn,
and when the shaman seemed to get pummeled or hit,
The ravens were there to defend and protect,
And soon young Raven ripped open the giant Chief's chest,
And the spirit of the universe did manifest.
It spoke to young Raven, to gather his wit,
and soon materialized as a shaman's medicine stick.
And the giant was scared, he knew he would die,
because young raven had learned the secret of life.
"Great Destroyer" Raven yelled, "You sought to defeat,
But my tribe lives in me vengeful and free",
And came from Raven a mighty force to behold,
the spirits of the dead, all too brave and too bold,
And they brought down the giant chief, they ripped him apart,
Raven had lived, but something died in his heart.
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:11:57 GMT -5
And then a spirit did form, in the shape of a bird,
thunderous and powerful, a voice to be heard.
It said "Young Raven, a human you are nevermore,
you will live as a Manitou, always and sure,
to live as a man, but to judge as a god,
to destroy the wicked as my divine rod".
And into its wings did new Manitou embrace,
realizing now he had fell into fate,
and for hundreds of years did he sleep in a void,
in the dream walking realm that he used to enjoy,
And he trained and he trained, asleep yet awake,
Waiting for someone to wake him from his grave.
And though millennia passed since Raven's descent,
the time had come for his earthly advent.
So all you evil and wicked, watch with who you grudge,
because soon you may be hunted and judged.
While humans may be kinder and willing to move on,
Manitou Raven will give you a devil's reward.
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:14:40 GMT -5
The Mercy of Monsters
By Brandon Herren Mister Herren, our Creative Director, returns to the fiction fore front with this fantastic tale of Frankenstein and another horrific creature from the depths of fear itself! |
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:15:20 GMT -5
Part 1: Dark Dealings “Could it be…?” The voice rasped with nervous hesitation, “that you are not a monster?” The creature stirred slightly. He swayed only a little by his arms stretched to the shackles above. Large drops of water streamed down his cheek from where they dripped on the back of his head. At first he wondered if the voice had been a hallucination, a phantom in a mind long starved from sensations of the outside world. He glanced upward to the long stairway that wound down into his dungeon and squinted against the piercing light that outlined a lone advancing figure. “Could it be you are not simply an abomination of one man’s sin, an arrogance unleashed on the world of men, but rather something else?” The skinny man navigated each footfall carefully, placing his shoe down as not to slip on the moss and slime covering each step. His formal dress implied that he was a gentlemen of some standing in the nearby village. His voice bounced and echoed around the dank stonework. “What if you are something more?” The creature raised his head fully in attention at hearing those words, and the man caught his first full glimpse of the monster with a gasp. He moved his foot distractedly downward and slipped for an awkward moment before catching himself on the stone wall. “You still believe I am not a monster?” The creature’s voice cracked dryly like the last fallen leaves of autumn. His already shocking features were highlighted with dirt and grime. “M-my God…” “No. God has nothing to do with me.” The man approached slowly now, awestruck by the thing in front of him. “I-it’s…. it’s just that I… I wasn’t sure, you see… I’m an educated man of the 19th century. I’ve been to university. When the village people said that you were a daemon, I expected a monstrous abomination of a man, yes, but still a man nonetheless. B-but… you really are something else aren’t you?” The man looked in amazement at the scars of stitch-work covering the monster in front of him. The creature shifted now to steady his weight. His clothes were rotten rags, the stench of which almost overwhelmed the pervasive odor of must and mold in the constantly damp hole that had been the home of the reanimated man for untold months. Again his voiced grumbled. “Why?” The man searched the gray and dirt-smeared face of the thing that half-hung from thick iron bonds in front of him with as much awe as horror. “Why, you say? Why are you here?” He squinted thoughtfully at the captive. “That is a thought of some complexity. My daughter was correct in her discussion of you. You truly are a being of some cognizance.” “No.” The creature’s voice was now clearer, and gaining strength. “Why… have you come here? Why have you put yourself in such grave peril?” He righted himself to his full height now and breathed deeply as his eyes pierced through the man. “Oh… ah…” The man stumbled backwards in fear even with the monster securely in chains. “No… I…” “You mentioned your daughter. I assume she is the same gentle child who has visited me here in my prison. The same one who has brought the food that has kept me alive.” “Y-yes. It is she.” The man relaxed now at a distance. “She stole away in her hours of play unbeknownst to anyone. When I discovered her secret activity just last week I was sick with fear and forbade her return. She protested in your behalf but I would have none of it.” “But you have reconsidered…” “Yes.” A shadow fell over the man’s face just as well as the room from a passing cloud above. The streaks of light shooting through the holes in the stonework faded out. “The disappearances have begun anew. The villagers believed the villain caught when they ambushed you, but now that would seem to not be the case. No female child in this countryside is safe.” “And so perhaps I am not the monster of your terrors after all. I see. You have come here for my assistance.” “Yes.” The two stood for a long moment without speaking. The dripping water echoed in the recesses of the half-collapsed corridors that adjoined the subterranean prison. The man was at once aware of his fearful surroundings when a rat brushed his leg. The monster stood silently looking toward the ground before him. “I will need clothes and a warm meal.” “Of course. And what else?” “That is all. And I will go free when this task is complete.” The man shook is head, not entirely convinced of his answer. “Then we have a gentlemen’s agreement?” The creature made a short grunt of a laugh. “And…” The man jumped in. “Just one more thing. If we are to be as partners in this dreadful affair, I would like to know your name.” “My name?” The creature stopped on the question for a moment as if genuinely unsure of the answer. “That would be a simple matter had my creator bothered to present me with one. I believe I can only be called one thing now as the need has arisen, to carry the name of my father as a curse like the very life he so thoughtlessly and arrogantly bestowed upon me, and has suffered so dearly for. My name... is Frankenstein.” “So it is true. I had heard whispers while among the academia during my last visit. Hushed rumors and ghastly secrets of the doctor’s mad experiments… And I scoffed at their foolish whimsy. How was I to know that when I returned I would find you.” The man reached to the inside pocket of his coat to retrieve something as he moved forward. “Here. Let us remove your bonds.” He produced a key and showed it to the creature. Frankenstein didn’t notice. He only looked down again as his body tensed. The muscles beneath his rough green-gray skin flexed tightly and he planted one booted foot forward. The heavy irons went taut and groaned in defiance briefly before the masonry holding them shifted. There was a low scraping sound as the entirety of the ancient castle keep above seemed to move under the creature’s power. The rock holding his restraints gave to the pressure and exploded. What was left of the wall crumbled as he moved freely forward. He brought one hand over to twist off the bolting mechanism and did the same for the other arm and the shackles fell with a clatter on the floor. “You could have fled at any time?” The man’s senses reeled as his mind tried to keep up with each new astonishment. “Why did you stay here?” “I had no reason to leave, no purpose to pursue. Where is a thing such as myself to go in this world?” The man watched as he could see expression in the creature’s face for the first time. It was one of a stressed burden as he now stood free on the world once again, as if he immediately regretted regaining his freedom. “Now you have a purpose. Come. I have a barn where you can rest and fill your stomach before the dark dealings of the night hours to come.” |
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:15:52 GMT -5
Part 2: Without Pity The dark shape sped through the chilled wind, creeping between the buildings and homes of the small community. Even with a burden over its shoulder rivaling its size, it moved effortlessly and with an unnatural speed. Its large, dark eyes glinted with the moon’s light as it glanced around hastily. Its clothing was as black as the shadows it moved between and there was little to betray his presence to the watchmen along the main road. A flash of lightning illuminated its pallid face for scant seconds before it moved again. In moments the shadow was advancing silently over the leaf-strewn ground of the hillside beyond the village. The young girl it carried as its cargo stirred in and out of consciousness as the first droplets of rain hit her cheek. She tried to call out for help but was unable to summon the will. She saw the ground rushing underneath and felt boney, claw-like hands wrapped around her legs. Somewhere in her nascent thoughts she was barely aware that she was to be the next victim of the village's mysterious predator. As the kidnapper topped the hillside another flash of lightning revealed the shape of an enormous man directly blocking its route. The dark thing attempted to leap over its opponent but was caught by the throat and forced back down to damp earth, now alleviated of its captive. The thing hissed and thrashed wildly at being interrupted in its mission. The monstrous man set the girl down as she quickly regained her senses. His face was obscured by a wrap of material. “Do not panic. Run back to your family as fast as you can.” The girl breathed hard as she stumbled clumsily in her steps and was quickly gone. Frankenstein turned his attention back to the thing beneath him. Its countenance was almost without color, accented only by yellow eyes and dingy, pointed teeth, the two in the front being more pronounced and of irregular length. Without hair, its only other features were pointed ears, a crooked nose, and misshapen brow. “You’re nothing more than vermin,” the monster scoffed. The thing tore at his sleeve and swiped the cloth from his face before letting out a seething gurgle that strung into a sibilance of words. “The massster will be angry… you mussst let me beeee….” “Where is he?” The creature spread his fingers like a claw and pressed them into the vampyre’s chest just over his heart. “No. I can’t tell you. He’ll kiiiiiilll meeeee…” “ I’m going to kill you. It’s only a matter of how painful this will need to be.” He pushed forcefully, plowing his fingers into the necrotic flesh with a squirt of thinly-colored plasma. “Aiiiiiiiieeeee!!! No! No, ssssstoooop!” “Where!” The creature’s voice was flat and without pity. He pushed his hand deeper into the thing’s chest. “Aaaaiiii! Curssssse you.” The vampyre’s already horrible visage twisted into new and terrible expressions. “Over… o-over the next valley. The manor… in the foothillssss….” Frankenstein closed his fingers tight and crushed the vampyre’s heart. Its shriek was cut short as its body rapidly deteriorated into a horrific goo. As the girl reached the edge of her village she heard the wretched screams of her would-be captor echo through air, sounds so terrible she would carry with her until her dying day. |
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:16:27 GMT -5
Part 3: Frankenstein vs. The Vampyre Lord Ruthven sat and watched the downpour through large glass doors. A low-burning fire crackled in the hearth behind him while his head rocked back and forth, as if the pattering of the heavy raindrops outside were in time with some unheard spectral symphony. His appearance was well-kept and his fanciful attire one of undue privilege. The Lord’s light skin was off-set by striking ebon hair that flowed around his long, thin face. Ruthven’s cool gray eyes stared with piqued interest as a shape approached from outside in the strobe of the electric storm. The large man continued without pause along the length of the yard and then unimpeded through the glass doors, shattering them as he progressed inside. Frankenstein stopped short in front of his enemy. “You are not at all who I was expecting. A loyal minion or torch-bearing mob yes, but what are you?” The Lord’s eyes flared at the remarkable thing in front of him. “I am Hell’s mercy, fiend.” The soaked creature stood dripping and unmoving. “A fiend am I? So that would make you God’s avenging angel? A vengeance set upon the earth to strike down the wicked for past sins perhaps?” Ruthven laughed. “Perhaps.” The self-proclaimed Lord continued, his level demeanor never wavering. “Or a shamble of a beast. Some accursed fool brought on by some misbegotten sorcery, left to roam without direction in man’s world. A lost soulless thing. Why do you take this cause with me?" The vampyre slowly drew out the remainder of his words with a sneer. "Extraordinary beings such as we should stand united.” “I do not agree. I may be many things, neither desirable nor of worth, but I am not a parasite.” “Then know my power!” Lord Ruthven launched from his chair on the creature with blinding speed, clawing and shredding an intermingled mess of cloth and flesh. The creature only gritted his teeth and shot out an arm, catching the vampyre and hurling him back into a bookcase. A jumble of dusty tomes came crashing to the floor along with Lord Ruthven. The vampyre emerged with a hiss and flew back at the creature, locking onto his shoulders with its claws. “You cannot kill me! I have lived for centuries, preying on the weak and feeble creatures of this world. We will one day rise as the masters of these pitiful humans and all will do our bidding!” Ruthven reared back with an inhuman shriek as his now pronounced fangs came down into the creature’s neck.  Frankenstein stumbled to one side and into a table, crashing through down to the tiled floor. Another lightning flash illuminated the vampyre’s face as he recoiled in disgust. He spat the creature’s blood out as if it burned his mouth. Frankenstein reached out to grab a jagged wooden leg from the destroyed table and shoved it forward at his oppoenet. The vampyre writhed and shifted, causing the stake to miss its heart and drive into the middle of its chest instead. The vampyre’s appearance contorted into something hideous and less human now. The Lord’s eyes burned red and his features were sharp and ghastly. “I will kiiiiilll yoooou!” The vampyre howled as he swiped at the creature’s throat but Frankenstein instead reached out quickly with both hands and seized the thing’s head. “Perhaps I have found a purpose after all. I may be an abomination, but there are far worse things under heaven than I.” His grip tightened on the vampyre’s skull and it squealed in pain. “No! I am an immortal! Where is your mercy now foul bastard?” Ruthven's claws swiped frantically and lacerated the monster’s arms. Dark streams of blood ran freely down the creature’s powerful forearms. “Mercy is for men. And we are monsters.” Frankenstein jerked his hands to the right, twisting and snapping the vampyre’s head from his shoulders. Gore sprayed from the neck of the vampyre’s spasmodic body as Frankenstein kicked it away. He continued to squeeze the head between his large hands as it cracked and collapsed into a pulpy mess. Within seconds the ruined skull eroded into dust. Frankenstein rose with some effort to his feet and surveyed the room only to find the man from before in the busted doorway. He stepped inside and looked around. “You’ve done well, Frankenstein. You’ve freed us from this scourge. There are no words to express our deep gratitude.” “Why did you follow me?” The creature wiped blood from his neck and arms with the remnants of Ruthven’s clothes. “I... I needed to be sure. Certainly you understand. I could not rest until I knew.” The creature nodded. “You are lucky to have a family to care for.” The man stepped through the wrecked interior. “These books. Some of them are very old. I’ve never seen anything quite like them. It must have been the vampyre’s collection.” The man shuffled through the pile on the floor. He raised one archaic volume without a label and flipped its yellowed pages. “Oh my. Fantasmagoria, daemons, incantations…” “Take them. I plan to set this house ablaze when I depart.” “Yes.” The man flipped the pages and stared in disbelief. “My son Abraham has become quite taken in all of the supernatural goings on in these past months, much to my chagrin. If only I could keep him as interested in his course work.” The monster wrapped a piece of drapery onto another broken table leg and laid it beside an oil lamp. The rainfall outside lessened as the storm was finally passing. The man closed the book and put it inside his coat. “Where will you go?” “I do not know.” “I am forever indebted to you, Frankenstein. If you ever need help….. Seek me out.” The monster stopped and nodded at the man in agreement. “What do I can call you, ‘man who does not believe in monsters’?” The man was taken aback as it almost looked like the creature had the barest hint of a smile. “My name? My name is Van Helsing.” The End |
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:19:21 GMT -5
Scare Tactics in
Some Kind Of Monster
Written by John Elbe Mr Elbe, editor of... Many, many things on the site, and also the writer of Suicide Squad and the Blue Devil serial in Showcase, sent in two startling stories that you are about to read, and so, for the first, prepare to rock, as we join the greatest band in the DC2, Scare Tactics... |
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:19:57 GMT -5
‘...We all have to live! We all have to die! But death is bliss!
You all want one thousand more years of this?
You all want one thousand more years of this?
You all want one thousand more years of this?
We don’t need you blessing!
We don’t want your frakin’ blessing!
Your youth is gone and you’re just deprecating!
America! America! America!
You failed the mil-len-nium!
Mil-len-nium!
Mil-len-nium!
America! America!
America…You failed the millennium!’ “That was the monster new single from the Scare Tactics called ‘You Failed the Millennium’ off their upcoming album ‘Freak of the Week’. You are listening to the graveyard shift with your ghoul of the night, DJ Dark. And, as promised, we have in studio with us the man behind the monsters, Arnie Burnsteel, the manger of Scare Tactics. Thanks for hanging out with us at this ungodly hour, Arnie.” “Thanks for having me.” Burnsteel said, leaning toward the microphone in front of him. “Now Arnie, we’ve been teasing all three of our listeners for hours that you had a surprise for us. Can you elaborate?” “I can indeed Dark! I brought some friends with me who might be persuaded to play for your listeners here live, as a sorta kickoff for their show tomorrow night at the Gotham City Coliseum, where they will be the opening act for the band Bloodless Crank as they kick off their world tour.” “Well, there you have it folks! Scare Tactics will be live in studio next so stay tuned.” |
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:20:28 GMT -5
A long time ago… Nina watched in horror as the sun rose much too quickly through the trees. She reached out through the gate, her bare shoulder pressed hard against the splintered wood but she didn’t care. She stretched her fingers out as far as they would go but it was in vain. A tear ran down her cheek, as she pressed harder, barely extending her small fingers another inch. It was no use. Whether it was one inch or one thousand it was too far. All she could do was stand by helplessly as the sun continued to rise. Everything had happened so quickly. Her mother had woken her from a sound sleep. Her mothers trembling hand covered her mouth. Within seconds Nina had been made aware of what was happening. They had returned. Their bloodlust would not be sated until one of their kind had been sacrificed. How many had lost their lives so far? Fifty? One hundred? What would it take to put an end to the senseless violence? They thought she was too young to understand but she listened to the stories around camp about how their kind had lived a veiled existence for years. They only existed on the lips of parents who chose to keep their children well behaved using fear. Fearful that if they misbehaved, the sinister creatures of the night would come and take them away while they slept soundly in their beds. That was the case until a small group grew restless. They were no longer content with feeding on small prey. They had overstepped their bounds and blood spilled out into the city streets. It was immediately apparent that this small group’s uncontrollable lust had cost all of them their peaceful existence just as a world war was breaking out. They called themselves crusaders but to everyone else in the world, they were nazi’s. These nazi’s swept through the countryside and into the mountains in pursuit of the creatures that violated their people. Some fled, while others died immediately during daring daylight raids on their dwellings. In the end, they were the fortunate ones. The ones that remained were rounded up and placed into camps. Lager der vampires or camp of the vampires. Nina felt a hand reach out and firmly grip her shoulder. It was her father who held her still while five or six nazi soldiers poked their rifles and spat at the girl who frantically struggled to release herself from her bonds. They came into the camp unannounced and grabbed the first one they saw. Saying nothing, they took this girl and drug her out of camp to the small clearing on the hillside. They held her down and Nina flinched as each spike was driven deeper into the ground. The helpless girl continued to pull at her shackles but to no avail, the chains that bound her were now also secured to the hillside. Nina began to pull herself up the gate, but felt her fathers grip tighten as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “There is nothing more we can do my child. She is lost to us now.” The sunlight was now beaming through the trees and the group behind the fenced in area began to move back into the few shadows that still remained. Nina took both of her hands and held firmly onto the gate. She couldn’t leave her to die alone. She squinted as she watched the girl give up her struggle. Their eyes met and the girl mouthed something so quietly that only one of their kind would be able to hear. “Go Nina. Be brave. Never be afraid.” Nina felt the warmth of the sun begin to singe her exposed skin. Her father finally was able to pull her away from the gate and drag her behind him. Nina was forced to close her eyes and she began to scream. “No Cecania! My beautiful sister! No!” |
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:21:10 GMT -5
“I will never be afraid my dear Cecania and I won’t rest until they’ve all paid…in blood.”
Nina uttered to herself.
“Nina? NINA!”
“WHAT!” She shouted as she wiped the tear off of her cheek and turned around.
“Nina, I am nervous.” Slither said as he began to pace in the small room they occupied in the Gotham City radio station.
“What?” She growled back at him.
“He’s worried about the performance here tonight.” Fang said to no one in particular.
“He’s worried about the performance? Why on mothers earth would he be worried about that?” She began to pace behind Slither, who nervously looked behind him. “I mean the fact that we have a vampire, a werewolf, and a couple of mutants pretending to be a rock band…”
“Nina there is no reason to yell.” Fang said nervously.
“NO! I am not even finished yet!” She turned Slither around and pointed her finger in his face, “No reason to worry that the little government freak show we broke you out of could come out of the shadows and take you back…no, your worried about a live radio performance that we don’t even do for real. If it wasn’t for our little sorceress friend who cast spells that allow us to play in this little charade, we wouldn’t even be able to pull off this or any other show we do!”
“I think you sing pretty.” Grossout muttered from the corner he sat in.
“Shut the frak up! All of you, just for one minute!” she shouted before slowly pulling her finger from the face of the trembling Slither.
“Hey. Speaking of, where is out favorite sorceress Azarathea at?” Fang said looking around “It’s almost showtime.”
“Probably spending as much time as possible away from you freaks!” Nina screamed as she headed toward the door, “Just stay quiet and sit tight. I will go find her so we can get this over with.”
She slammed the door behind and no one moved from where they either sat or stood.
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:21:27 GMT -5
When Nina found her, Azarathea was down the hall, in an unoccupied office. She paused at the door when she heard voices coming from inside the room. Nina became enraged at what she heard and quickly kicked the door in and stood face to face with the startled sorceress.
“Who the hell were you communicating with bitch?” Nina screamed.
“Who do you think you are barging in here like…”
“Can it, witch! I heard enough! You were telling them where we were at!”
“Why would I do that? Why would I risk your well being as well as my own?” Azarathea took a step back as Nina edged closer to her “It’s been my spells that have allowed your little band to exist without anyone knowing that you’re all the freaks you only pretend to be on stage. I allow you interact out in public as normal looking humans!”
“I think maybe you’ve grown tired of being a groupie and are willing to cut a deal.”
Nina’s speed surprised Azarathea as she tackled the woman to the ground. Nina quickly clamped her hand over the sorceress’s mouth. “Shhhh. No hocus-pocus. I am going to enjoy this.” She whispered as she took her other hand and pulled Azarathea hair back and exposing her neck.
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:21:58 GMT -5
“Nina stop!” Fang yelled from the open doorway. “What are you doing?”
“The bitch sold us out! They will be coming for us any minute now!” She stood up as Azarathea’s lifeless body fell to the side.
“Why? How?” he said shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter now. But without her spells keeping us hidden, it won’t be long before…what do we do now?”
Nina slowly licked the blood from her lips, “We run.”
The beginning!
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:23:17 GMT -5
Night Force in
The Last Stop
Written by John Elbe Here we go again...! |
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:23:42 GMT -5
A door slowly opened and a man stumbled through. He was slightly disoriented as several fragrances rushed to his nostrils. The room was dark except for the fire that burned in the fireplace on the far side of the room. He took several steps forward as he tried to get his wits about him.
“I have been waiting for your return doctor.” A voice spoke from a chair near the fireplace.
The man took several more steps until he found an empty chair next to the man and he slowly sat down. “Your Night Force is dead Baron. I am the only one who survived.”
Baron Winters leaned forward in his chair. “That is not the case, Doctor Seven.”
“The mission…everything went wrong. I was separated from the others.” Doctor Seven muttered as he stared at the dancing flames in the fire.
“Your being, as well as your judgment, have been corrupted Doctor. You shouldn’t have deceived me.”
Doctor Seven looked somewhat shocked at the statement. “I don’t know what you are implying Baron, but I ensure you that I didn’t deceive you in the least bit. Tannarak was threatening the balance of chaos and order. I enlisted your help because I knew you would want to ensure that the balance remained.”
“The only thing Tannarak threatened was you and your position in the magic community. You attempted to use me and my Night Force to banish a foe you were too weak to face on your own. Now you have paid the ultimate price for your trickery. Though it may seem like a few short days that you’ve been gone, I ensure you it was much longer. The others returned on a night much like this over thirteen years ago.”
“Thirteen years? But I…”
“In the time you’ve been gone your wife remarried and then shortly after died in a plane crash. That occurred seven years ago. Your son took over your business but was gunned down by the Yakuza in San Francisco after making commitments he could not keep. Afterward, they burned your club down to the ground. Your daughter married 4 years back, but without any other family members to support her, she died of a heroin over dose while whoring herself out on the streets of Los Angles.”
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:23:57 GMT -5
Doctor Seven glared at Baron Winters. He was sickened with the fact that he knew Baron was telling the truth. “I should kill you for what you have done to make my family suffer so Winters”
“You chose to upset the balance of chaos and order by going after someone you had no right to. I am not the Phantom Stranger. I do not believe in justice. I deal only in balance. I am not a fair or forgiving man. You deal in parlor tricks when you should have played the hand that was dealt you. I may not be fair, but I do believe that man controls his own destiny. Yours was taken out of your hands and left to fate. And fate sometimes has a cruel sense of humor.” Baron Winters paused before he continued, “As for killing me, maybe you feel you should, but cannot. Not here at least, and I don’t plan on leaving this mansion any time soon.”
Doctor Seven continued to stare into the fire. Unable to either speak or move. He was completely unsure what to do next as Baron Winters stood up and reached out for a poker that leaned against the mantel. He then took a step and stood over the Doctor who slouched in his seat.
“I am going to offer you a deal. There are two doors behind me not too unlike the one you returned here through. You must choose to go through one of them. Behind one door is kingdom of heaven. You will spend forever with your family and experience nothing but bliss for all eternity. Knowing full well that you’ve lost thirteen years and that your family suffered in your absence. Behind the other door is your life…thirteen years ago, with a chance to make everything right with all the knowledge you have learned here today of their lives in your absence. Having you in their life does not guarantee the outcome will be better; it could very easily turn to the worse for you and them. But before you choose, let me tell you a tale about another man who had to make a choice not too unlike the one you are facing. The tale may appear familiar at first, but please indulge me for I was there and I know what really occurred.”
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:24:20 GMT -5
In a time long past, there lived a beautiful princess. This princess had taken to a stranger from a far off land. They quickly began a clandestine affair. Their love for one another could not be put to question but they were fearful that if the king had gotten word of their liaison he would make the consequences dire for both of them.
For quiet some time, the couple embraced every moment they could steal and counted every heartbeat before they were together again. They dare not speak of what the future would hold but would relish in the moments they had together. But the young man knew that the time would come when the princess’s soul would become as restless as her spirit and she would no longer be content to make love in the shadows of a kingdom her father ruled over. The man knew that he would have to conjure up enough bravery to confront the king and announce his intentions with his daughter. Before he had a chance to confront the king, word had gotten out of their affair. The man was swiftly taken away and imprisoned. The king would soon decide on his fate.
The king believed he ruled fairly over his kingdom and the manner in which he extracted justice he felt was equally as fair. No one dared argue with the manner that the court of justice was held; instead the king’s people celebrated it as a special occasion. People would come from all over the kingdom to observe the circus of events as they unfolded in the vast amphitheater.
After a few short days of imprisonment, the man was brought before the king to receive his verdict. In the hours and days before the ceremony, the man had learned how the king would deliver his judgement. At first, the man had hope that he might be able to persuade the king to forgo punishment and allow him to take the princesses hand in marriage. But as more details were passed on to him he knew that wouldn’t be the case.
Now he stood before the king and his court. He bowed before the king but his eyes were focused on his beloved the entire time. He hadn’t seen her since he was locked up. He ached with the thought of running to her and fleeing together hand in hand. Alas, he knew that fate had something else in mind for both of them. He would be forced to make a choice bween the two doors that lie before him and she would be forced to watch whichever event that occurred next. Two doors. His choice to make. Innocent or guilty? On the inside of one door would be a beatiful woman, it was certain she would be amongest the fairest in the land. As a reward for his innocence they would be wed in a beatiful cerimony that would immediately follow. Behind the other door lie his punishment for being found guilty. He would be faced with the fiecest tiger in all the land. It was certain that the creature would devor him without a moments hesitation after the door opened. It was in his hands now whether he would be found guilty or innocent.
After bowing to the king he began the long trek across the dirt floor of the arena. The crowd fell silent as he advanced toward the idintical doors in front of him. He did not break his gaze from the face of the beautiful princess. He knew that the she must hold the knowledge of what lie behind each door. As he neared the point where he must head toward one door or the other, he noticed a swift but sutile motion with her hand. If he had more time, he would analize what choice she would want for him. Was their love true? Would she be able to bare seeing him in the arms of another. Would she rather he be with no one else but her and send him into the mouth of the creature?
She motioned to the right and with out hesitation he reached out and opened the door…
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:24:50 GMT -5
“I am more then aware of the tale, The Lady or the Tiger.” Doctor Seven stated, “I don’t see the point in this or this charade any longer.” “This not a charade my friend, but I will tell you something they leave out every time the story is retold. The point of the tale isn’t what choice she was making for him but what choice he ultimately made for himself. The choice I have had to live with everyday since opening that door.” “What?” Doctor Seven quickly turned toward Winters, “You want me to believe that it was you who inspired that story?” “I would prefer to think that when I told the story to Frank Stockton he choose to relay the tale within the spirit it was told to him. Now I would think it wise that you make your choice as well.” Baron spoke as a very large royal bengal tiger moved out of the dark shadows of the corner and stood next to Baron Winters, “I am not sure it is in your best interest the you linger for long since it appears that Merlin here has woken from his nap and is looking to feed.” Doctor Seven slowly stood up has he glanced down at Merlin and then at Baron Winters. It appeared that he was going to say something and then thought the wiser of it. He slowly turned away and walked toward the two doors that had been presented to him. Without hesitation he opened the door on the left and stepped through. The door swiftly closed behind him. Merlin looked up as he changed back into his more familiar form, an African leopard. “Was it just for effect or were you trying to imply that I would eat that retched human being?” “I was growing tired of him and it was time for him to go.” Baron said stroking his companion on the head. “What door do you think he choose?” Merlin inquired. “The one I wanted him to choose, of course.” THE END |
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:28:44 GMT -5
Doctor Occult in
Slasher Flick
Written by House Of Mystery Thought I'd throw my hat in the ring and introduce to you a prelude to the miniseries starring Doctor Occult! Debuting in the new year, with covers by Borize and back ups by Crow, you'd be foolish to miss out on Til My Dying Time! But if you can wait, here you go, the penultimate tale of our anthology... |
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Post by HoM on Oct 31, 2006 5:29:00 GMT -5
It's the sound at first. The drip-drip of water falling loudly to the gutter. The drip-drip of something, but what, she does not know, the screaming in her own ears deafening, preventing her from thinking. All she can concentrate on is the drip-drip. The drip-drip of water, she tells herself. Water. It's been raining, it must be water, flowing through the drains and falling to the gutter. But then memory, realisation... The claws that she saw, the flesh rending talons... The drip-drip of blood, she grimaces, the drip-drip of what's soon going to happen to her.
Death. Pain. Torture.
All of the above and with that... She realises the screams are her own. Her throat burning and her blood boiling. Her nails dig into her palm as her hand is clenched in a tight fist. The pain distracts, but not from the obvious, the drip-drip of blood, of water, and the thundering steps of something following her. Her screams dull, the pain too, and then she stops, hesitation, the thundering footsteps behind her in the distance, but in front of her, just there, nowhere else... A house. Had she ran so fast? Had she left the city and entered the suburbs? Was it possible? Probably not, but the thundering footsteps and the drip-drip that haunts her aren't possible either, so who's to complain?
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