Heart of Darkness, chapter 8: The Cure for what Ails You.

Previously…:

Visionary is having a bad week, what with Kerry being put in foster care, a bunch of stuff he doesn’t even know about yet, and also the minor bit about dying from some unknown mystical infection attacking his heart. In an effort to help (no, really!) Con Johnstantine has set him up to meet an expert in the black arts… party ghoul and all-around most desirable dead girl Urthula. Unfortunately, Con left out a few key bits of information…

Urthula discreetly used her cel to snap a picture of the man in the yellow coat waiting at the streetside bistro table. She was currently trying to look casual from across the street while surveying her prospects for the night. Luckily, she had just the proper consultants on speed dial… “Blind date assessment needed…” she text messaged, attaching the photo and sending it to her undead confidants Carnoline Romero and the vampire “Sunset” Sally. Any city ghoul worth her salt knew that a prospective beau needed to be vetted by the committee. It took only moments for the call backs to come in.

“Bad hair… bad clothes… clueless expression…” Carnoline surveyed over the three way line. “Ugh, Urthula, you poor thing… Who’s gone and done this to you?”

She sighed into her phone in resignation. “It was… Johnstantine.”

“Oh, honey. If you were this desperate, you should have called me.”

“I dunno…” Sally cut in judiciously. “I think he’s kinda cute. Nice dark eyes…”

“The pale, veiny complexion does look good on him.” Urthula noted herself. “And he’s got an aura that’s positively a sucking wound of blackness. It’s really something… the hairs on the back of my neck are on end.”

“Really?” Carnoline asked, surprised. “Well, you could always teach him how to dress, and finding a dead guy with good hair is a challenge at the best of times. As for the cluelessness…”

“Maybe he’s freshly dug up” Sally suggested. “Everybody needs a bit of orientation when they first claw their way out of a grave.”

“Con did seem to think the guy could benefit from my help… and I have broken in a newbie or two in my day.”

“Mmmmm… I say go for it. And find out if he has a brother.” Sally suggested. “Huh… you know, actually, it just hit me… he kinda looks like Visionary… the Legionnaire hero fella? Only the one I met looked a lot less… dead.”

“Oh. My. God.” Carnoline intoned. “And I say that even though it burns my tongue, because this is just that huge. I just realized… Do you know who that is?!” she asked excitedly. “That’s Visionatus Improbablus!”

“Vizawhosawhatsis?” Sally asked skeptically.

“Visionatus--”

“Improbablus” Urthula finished for her, squinting her eyes and cocking her head to give the man at the table another look. “I admit, he does kind of fit the description… except for the part about being buried and rotting in a tomb.”

“Where have you been?” Carnoline sighed with impatience. “You need to stick your head out of your Uncle’s musty seaside shanty now and again… It’s all the underworld gossip rags on the East coast can talk about! They say Rasputatious and his crew found Improbablus’s tomb… and raised him.”

Urthula snorted. “Rasputatious couldn’t raise his own anatomy, much less anyone else’s. And it doesn’t even sound like something he’d do anyway.”

“I hear it was part of some ludicrous plan to rule the world.”

“Okay, that sounds like Rasputatious.” Still, Urthula remained doubtful. “Nobody can just ‘find’ Improbablus’s tomb…”

“They had the Necronastycon” her friend explained in hushed tones. “Chompvski and Buggerov hit the town the morning before the big night, and they told Elsa Pretorious all about it… even let her touch it.”

“Touch what, exactly?” Sally asked. “’Cause I hear tell Elsa’s not choosy.”

“Obviously. You should hear what she did with Fingers...” Carnoline segued smoothly.

“Really, Carny…” Urthula cut in, trying to keep her friend on the gossip at hand. “Chompvski and Buggerov were not cruising the town using an active copy of the Necronastycon to pick up easy ghouls. You can’t believe everything you hear from Elsa Pretorious”.

“Especially since she’s a dirty slut.” Sally noted cattily.

“It’s not her fault that she has to sleep in the soil of her native homeland every daybreak” Carnoline countered. “Though I won’t argue the slut part.”

“Whoever he is… there’s some major league black magics around him” Urthula noted. “Still… Improbablus?”

“Girl, you’ve got the most eligible corpse in the underworld waiting for you to show up and teach him the ways of the afterlife! And if you don’t get off the sidelines, I’m going to hail a cab and get there before he gets away.”

“I’ll want all the juicy details… including what part of each other you had for breakfast” Sally encouraged. “Go get him, gal.”

“Alright, I’m going in.” Urthula decided.

“That’s the spirit… raise some hell tonight!”

“I always do” the party ghoul promised. “It’s an excellent ice breaker.”

“Hey Vizh” Fleabot began gamely from the connection on the Lair Legion CommCard. “You look, um… good. Really.” His tiny front legs fretted for a bit. “Um… you’re not dead yet, right? It’d help me to tell if you’d blink more often.”

Visionary smiled wryly. “I feel better than I look… but then, I suppose I usually have. Anyway, thanks for that. People haven’t been particularly forthcoming ever since I started dying.”

“Oh, nonsense. People have been keeping things from you long before that. It’s just… well, folks are a little spooked, that’s all. And they don’t want you to see it.”

“Ah… I was beginning to think I was contagious.”

“Well, you’re not exactly easy on the eyes… but people aren’t avoiding you, so much as trying not to bother you with the little details that make up whether you live or die.”

“How thoughtful” the Regular observed.

“Speaking of which…” the tiny robot began casually, “Why aren’t you back at Sarah’s flat resting instead of sitting in what looks to be a greasy pizza joint?”

“I’m supposed to meet someone here about my condition” Visionary explained.

“Hey, I know things look grim, but death by pepperoni, sausage, and Canadian bacon is no way to go.”

“About curing my condition” he elaborated with a negligent wave. “I’ll fill you in on the details once I know more. Have you heard from Kerry? How’s she doing with the foster family?”

“Er… just great…” Fleabot answered gamely, taking in his friend’s concern. “She’s really, um… warmed up to the idea.”

“She doesn’t hate me, does she?” Visionary asked sadly. “She does, doesn’t she? I should be working on getting her back, not wasting my time…”

“Staying alive? I may not know kids all that well, but I’m thinking she may resent you if you up and die on her. Cuts off the allowance rather quick. Seriously, Dancer and Lisa have your back on this one... Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, that’ll happen. Um… you haven’t heard from Hallie, have you? I was kind of hoping to talk to her…”

“Hallie had to cut off all outside signals. She was going somewhere she shouldn’t to look into matters that may not have been any of her business. Not that she’s nosy, mind you.”

“Not at all” Vizh managed to smile warmly. He sighed and wrung his hands a bit before continuing. “Look, Fleabot… I just wanted to tell you…

“Of course, there’s the other reason people might be avoiding you as well…” the insectoid interrupted quickly and levelly. “Which is that, if you should even try to say goodbye to any of us, we would be forced to slap you silly. Maybe with the veal parmesan that lady behind you is having.”

“Oh. Um… Nevermind then.”

“Good. So head’s up, Vizh… It looks like you’re… um… consultant is here… Ah, Good luck with that, and I’ll check in with you later.”

Visionary gave a little wave as Fleabot cut the connection, then glanced around in confusion. All he could find nearby was a young woman with strikingly sharp (though attractive) features and a decidedly waifish build, which could be seen quite clearly from the clingy silk party dress she wore. More surprisingly, she was looking straight at him.

“Are you the friend of Johnstantine’s?” she asked with an alluring smile.

“Um… I’m not sure how to answer that” Visionary admitted. “But, not really… although, Con did tell me to be here.”

“Perfect answer. I’m the one you’re meeting tonight… The name’s Urthula” she introduced herself, sitting down opposite him and resting her chin on the back of her long, interlaced fingers. “And I guarantee you, if anybody can get you back in the swing of things, it’s me.” She smiled at him like a cat with definite plans for a canary. “Face it, Tiger… you just hit the jackpot.”

“He’s what?!” Lisa growled into the phone. “Dammit, Fleabot… how..? I don’t care what side of the world you’re on, you’re supposed to watch out for… Fine, whatever... Then you and the Idiom come up with a solution to his condition already.” She slammed the phone down.

“Is not being cute Fleabot’s fault” Yo suggested calmly. “Um… no matter what it is Visi is to be doing to annoy you so.”

“He’s out on the town!” Lisa complained. “Half-dead boy is out for pizza!”

Yo nodded. “After some delivery trucks mysteriously caught fire due to accidental inclusion of anchovies, most pizzerias are no longer delivering to cute Kerry and Visi. Is this being a major problem?”

Lisa keyed up the image Fleabot had transferred from his video conference with the Regular.

“Visi?” Yo asked, shocked to see the condition his friend was in.

Lisa nodded with a tight frown. “He’s deteriorating a lot faster than we thought. He so has to get better so that I can kick his ass for this latest stunt.” She paused and her head snapped up. “Is that Samurai woman still here?”

“Cute psychic Chiaki?” Yo said, blinking. “I am thinking so.”

“She wanted to help… she can find him and drag his sorry ass back here where we can strap him down and lock him in the basement.”

“For his own protection?” Yo prodded.

“Initially.” Lisa conceded angrily.

“I am thinking I will be going with her…” the pure thought being announced, looking at the sorry state of his best friend. “I am wanting some pizza suddenly.”

“Good” Lisa nodded. “I’ll be meeting with Ma Sheperdson… she had an idea about Kerry. Call me as soon as you find the big dolt. With the way things are going, who knows what disaster is zeroing in on him as we speak?”

    The ghoul in question was well over seven feet tall, and where he’s become worn he’d stitched new body parts on the replace the old ones. And he glowed dimly in the shadowed depths of the cavern beneath the Necromancer General’s lighthouse. “I have come,” he announced, jabbing one borrowed thumb self-importantly at his chest.

    “Greetings, Luminosus,” Bogdan Vladivock smiled sinisterly at the Abyssal of the Chernobyl Ghouls. “I thought you might decide to visit after my little message.”

    “Your shadow messenger tasted of chicken,” growled the undead.

    “”But you have yet to taste my niece,” Vladivock replied with a smirk. “Unfortunately, I believe she has given her heart to another.”

    “She has?” Luminosus frowned angrily, his claws digging into his palms till he leaked green ichor. “Has he eaten it yet?”

    “Oh, the person she’s enamoured with isn’t undead,” the Necromancer General revealed. “He is mortal.”

    “Mortal!” hissed Luminosus. “That’s disgusting!”

    The old black wizard shrugged indifferently. “After a while you need a change of pace. Besides, I imagine my sweet niece is actually attracted to what’s inside him.”

    “His liver and kidneys?”

    “A shard of pure elder evil, gradually suffusing his body to transform it into the new vessel for Nyarlurkhotep, the Crawling Chaos, the Herald of the Fairly Great Old Ones.”

    Luminosus was impressed. “That’s hard to compete with,” he admitted. “Something like that could really turn a girl’s head. Three hundred and sixty degrees.”

    The Necromancer General agreed. “Of course, if somebody was to rip that person’s heart out and consume it with the proper ceremonies, that somebody could benefit from the dark transformation instead,” he pointed out casually.

    It took Luminosus a few seconds to follow this, but at last he had an idea. “I could rip the heart out of this mortal and become the vessel for the Master of Madness!”

    “Why so you could, Luminosus. Good idea.”

    “Something like that would look so cool on my resume,” the Abyssal enthused. “So who is this guy? Where can I find him?”

    “I believe he’s meeting your beloved Urthula for their dark tryst as we speak,” Vladivock told him. “Of course, knowing my niece’s preferences, I feel must ask you…” he grinned an oily, thin grin, “Do you know how to dance?”

“I’m not so sure about this” Visionary noted as Urthula led him by the hand past the crowd gathered behind the velvet ropes. “Are you sure this is the right way to go?”

“Relax… I’m the expert, remember?” the waifish model responded. “And that new coat is positively to die for… really brings out the darkness of your eyes. Quit worrying, I promise Mr. Lye will take good care of your old one, and he’ll get that calzone spot out by morning.”

“It’s not that I’m not grateful…” Visionary tried again, with a glance towards his new attire and shoes. “It’s just, I’m currently a little short of funds…”

She flashed him a smile filled with large teeth. “Don’t sweat it. That’s to be expected, what with your current condition. It’s on me.” She stopped and pulled him close, filling his senses with an intoxicating aroma of exotic herbs and spices and other things he couldn’t quite place. “The main task right now is to get you up and moving… shaking out those old bones to keep the rigor mortis away.”

“Well, if you say so…” he agreed, feeling a bit dizzy. “But still, all things considered, I don’t know if this is the best place we could go.”

“Nonsense!” Urthula countered. “This is exactly what you need to get back to your old self. We’ll just get the attention of certain key people inside and you’ll be made in this town, as good as new. Let me go talk to the bouncer, and we’ll be in…” And she slipped off to converse with the huge man guarding the door, leaving the pale Regular to be eyed enviously by the well-dressed partiers contained in their queue.

Visionary looked up at the front of the warehouse underneath the Englehart Bridge. “She is the expert…” he said dubiously as the neon sign for “The Willow” nightclub flickered above them.

The phone rang twice in quick succession, prompting the man to put aside what he had been reading and snatch the receiver off of the ornate desktop. “Yes?” he asked without preamble.

“This is Douglas, sir…”

“Your surveillance hasn’t been compromised, has it?” he growled into the phone, pouring himself a shot of bourbon by light of the city skyline shining through the huge corner windows behind him.

“No sir… nothing like that. Things have been going as usual, sir, and we’ve logged everyone coming in or out.”

“Then what?”

“The readings, sir… they’ve just gone off the scale. I thought that the baseline had slipped… we originally had a problem with the concentration of creatures here, but the settings are all reading correctly. Something big just arrived. A priority 1-alpha.”

He paused with the drink midway to his mouth. “Is the bitch there?”

“No sir. She doesn’t usually make her appearance until after 11 pm.”

He set the shot glass back down on the desk. “Continue your surveillance, and keep the men out of sight. I’ll be down there personally in twenty minutes.” He hung up the phone and walked across the dimly lit office. Keying in the proper code, the office wall slid open to reveal an arsenal of weapons surrounding a shining, bright blue suit.

“A full moon tonight” Desmond Djinn noted to himself as he got dressed in his working clothes. “Always a good night for a hunt...”

to be continued…

Footnotes:

Desmond Djinn is an internationally acclaimed monster hunter, and a closet nutcase obsessed with killing off all magical creatures. His blue suit is made from the skin of his namesake, and acts as a magical null field, giving him resistance to hostile magics. Additionally, he uses advanced technology and a honed fighting skill to bag his prey.

The Willow Nightclub is run by underworld kingpin Camellia of the Fey, a powerful fairie woman who has set her house on destroying humans through their own weaknesses… usually drugs, alcohol and sex.

Chiaki, also known as the Psychic Samurai, worked for Akiko Masamune (a major crimelord competitor of Camellia’s) until her debt of honor was paid off. Her sense of honor spurred her to offer her services in protecting Visionary from the forces that seemed to be gathering covertly to destroy him.

Kerry ran away from a variety of bad Foster homes since being taken from Vizh’s custody, and is currently missing and presumed dangerous. Fleabot thought it best that Vizh worry about other things right now…

Post By Visionary, again with help from The Hooded Hood Thu Jul 28, 2005 at 05:35:59 pm EDT	Subject Heart of Darkness, chapter 8: The Cure for what Ails You.

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