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Post By The Hooded Hood continues with the Lair Legion's personal nightmare. Sat Dec 11, 2004 at 05:39:03 am EST |
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#195: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Nevermore | |
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#195: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Nevermore What Has Gone Before: The Lair Legion survived their encounter with the Hellraisers by escaping through the Portal of Pretentiousness to an unknown destination, but with the loss of Sir Mumphrey Wilton, who was retconned to have died over fifty years ago. The triumphant Hellraisers continue their rampage of murder and destruction unimpeded. After destroying Visionary’s Condo with the Junior Lair Legion inside it and massacring the support staff at the Lair Mansion, the Chain Knight has claimed Asil as spoils of war. Cleone, Keiko, Messenger, and Killer Shrike have rescued Sorceress from imprisonment in Herringcarp Asylum but are now pursued by a foul creature created by the Hooded Hood but set loose by the Hellraisers. Now things are about to get worse. Yet again, this issue contains some gory unpleasant bits. There was a stench of burning and a thick smog of smoke. The Lair Legion tumbled down amidst the wreckage of shattered buildings. Nats sensed the undead nearby before they broke from cover. “Vampires!” he warned, and seared one to dust with his pyrokinetics. Falcon speared another with his wing tip while Mr Epitome and Trickshot handled the other two. Then the zombies shuffled forward. “We’re in a Dawn of the Dead remake!” dull thud called out as Cressida transmuted rubble to bubble and floated a pair of the undead away. “Bags I fight the beautiful nude girl zombie!” “These people haven’t been dead for long,” the Librarian noted. “Hardly any necrosis.” “I hate undead, “Al B. pointed out. “Did I mention that I hate undead?” The zombies weren’t much of a challenge with their vampire masters gone, but CSFB! and Hatman scouted the area to check there was no more trouble. “Oh crap!” Dreamcatcher Foxglove breathed as he bounced to the top of the nearest mound of fallen structure. “I know where we are!” Hatman flew over to join him, staring down at the fallen Twin Parody Tower, spilled out across the ruins of Parody Plaza. A few small fires still burned across the devastated city, illuminating the crucified people spiked to the remaining walls. “We have a problem,” Vizh called to them, scrambling up the rubble to join them. “Yo and Mumphrey didn’t make it through the Portal of Pretentiousness. They’re still trapped with the Hellraisers. We have to get back and…” Then he saw the devastation. “Is that… Mr Papadapopolis?” CSFB! ventured, skittering down towards the crow-picked corpses. “Oh s&*$… And Don Graham…!” Hatman shooed away the rooks that were feasting on the dead Police Commissioner’s eyes. “We ran away,” he said. “We ran away and this is what happened.” “I don’t know what exactly happened,” Nats admitted. “Did we… die? And then we didn’t?” “Sir Mumphrey Wilton has a temporal pocketwatch that allows him to rewind time in localised areas,” the Manga Shoggoth explained. A couple of the zombies still flailed inside his gelatinous bulk but he would soon absorb them. “Usually people retain no memory of the rewind but on this occasion he arranged it so we could learn from our experiences.” “Time manipulation!” interjected Al B. Harper. “That explains so much.” “We did all die,” the Librarian realised. “That’s why the second time Sir Mumphrey had us all flee. He knew we couldn’t beat the Hellraisers.” “We can bet them,” Hatman declared, glaring round the wrecked city with its massive deathtoll. “We have to.” “I’m not getting any communications signal from the Mansion or the SPUD helicarrier,” Falcon warned. “In fact I can’t pick up any comms traffic at all.” “This is probably one of those Days of Future Past things,” CSFB! declared confidently. “We’ll probably find we’ve gone a few years into some possible future we have to head back and divert.” The Librarian couldn’t contact the Lunar Public Library, but he had located a newspaper in the wreckage. “This is fairly fresh, no more than a couple of days” he told his team-mates. “It’s dated tomorrow. I mean the day after we entered Herringcarp.” The Lair Legion looked around them in horror. They had all just died in combat, been dragged back, and now they were facing the destruction of all they held dear. “We’ve lost Mumph and Yo,” Trickshot said, “but I’m not losin’ another flamin’ planet. What’s the plan?” “Well,” said Hatman, turning to Vizh, “Visionary’s in charge.” ~~According to our byelaws in the absence of Leader and Deputy Leader authority passes back to previous Leaders then Deputies amongst the active membership,~~ Cressida reminded them. ~~What shall we do, Visionary?~~ The creature the Hooded Hood had bred was a black concoction of horror and pain, given form in the manner of his former servitor Fearwalker. It trailed long dark feelers of horror along the walls as it came, raking old sorrows and torments from the very walls of the black Asylum it haunted. It came fast and silent, closing the distance between Keiko, Messenger, Cleone, Shrike, and the newly-rescued Sorceress faster than they could run. “Keep going,” Keiko told the others. “I’ll hold it off.” “Bad idea, Suzy Wong!” Killer Shrike warned her. “So, yeah, you stand here an’ I’ll get the others to safety.” “Just keep running,” Messenger told them, hurling a couple of parcel bombs down the dank passageway behind them. He brought the roof down but only slowed the creature while it oozed through the rubble. “I don’t suppose you can sing to this one?” Keiko asked Cleone hopefully. “It hasn’t got a soul,” the swanmay answered, glancing fearfully back down the tunnel. “But it wants one.” “This way,” Sorceress called urgently. “I can feel the gateway, somewhere in the cloisters. But we have to hurry.” “Before that thing picks its way free,” Killer Shrike agreed. “Before the Chain Knight returns,” Whitney Darkness shuddered. “He’s coming.” The Lair Mansion was a dark ruined shell on the blackened mound of Parody Island. The frontage was gone, and only the old tower still tottered partly intact, its brass bell tolling mournfully in the wind. Nats and Epitome conducted a search of the site. Bill Reed was a little disconcerted how easily he was able to locate the charred bodies of the support staff. Only Asil was unaccounted for. Epitome found that Amber St Clare was somehow still alive despite the way she’d been pegged out with her internal organs exposed. He snapped her neck as a brutal mercy. It was clear that the Hellraisers had been and gone. “I rule the night-walkers here,” the tall proud vampire in the leather duster proclaimed to the outmoded challenger. Did the old fool know nothing about undead fashion? “We don’t need the old ways. We don’t need you.” Nosferos the Undying raised his hand and twitched it into a claw. The surprised vampire strutting before him was jerked from his feet and hung suspended in mid air. “You children know nothing,” the ancient night terror told him. “Not even obedience.” He jerked his other hand, and the leader of the vampires literally exploded, his whole body turning inside out. But the spurting blood twisted as it sprayed, plaiting together into a coherent stream that flowed through the air and into Nosferos’ throat. The undying cast away the drained shell of the most powerful vampire in Paradopolis and wiped his lips. “But you shall learn,” he promised. The other undead watched in horror as Nosferos stepped forward. “Now you will kneel to me, and then I shall show you how to be true terrors of the night.” Trickshot and dull thud trawled through the wreckage of St Jude’s Orphanage as soon as they had pulled the children’s corpses off the stakes they were impaled on outside the devastated building. It was evident once the rats and flies had been shooed away from the gory piles within the broken walls that the Bloodreaper had taken his time here, and that most of his victims had died slowly. thud emptied his stomach twice, but even after that Trickshot hadn’t finished swearing. The army unit weathering the storm on Interstate 888 had orders to prevent any travel into or out of Paradopolis, but especially to prevent any possible plague-carriers from escaping the city. Already new and unaccountable outbreaks had begun in Los Angeles and Arachknight City. So when they saw the lone individual walking along the road in the driving rain they warned him to stop and that they had orders to shoot to kill if he proceeded. “Ooh, yes,” the Bloodreaper grinned, unslinging his scythe. “Bring it on. I’m hungry.” CrazySugarFreakBoy! and the Shoggoth accompanied Al B. Harper to the EEE headquarters, but all they found was a neat hemisphere cut from the bedrock of deserted Gothametropolis. The old firehouse was gone. “Maybe they used the dimensional engines in a recursive feedback loop?” Al B. suggested desperately, running a few feasibility calculations. “A progressive chain matter shift to avoid the…” “Sorry, buddy,” Dreamcatcher Foxglove told him, tapping his shoulder and pointing up to the nearby lamppost. “Not everybody got away.” The security breach in the SPUD helicarrier sounded loud emergency claxons across all decks, and sent Colonel Dan Drury into an apoplexy. “The engineering deck!” he shouted. “How the hell did some intruder get past the anti-teleportin’ field and get to the engineering deck?” “Just cut through the defences like they weren’t there,” Pigeon warned, racing behind the Director of SPUD towards the intrusion. But they were too late. Maladomini has already used her dimensional lash to slash through the radiation shielding around the nuclear engines of the flying aircraft carrier. The engines went critical and she only had time to blow Colonel Drury a kiss before blinking out before the explosion. Hatman and the Librarian couldn’t get as far as the Phantomhawk Memorial Hospital. The swarming undead were too thick. Some of them wore hospital gowns as they shuffled past. “The whole city’s gone,” Jay Boaz swallowed. “They killed the whole city.” “The whole city fell a couple of days ago, by the looks of it,” Lee Bookman observed. “What have the Hellraisers been doing since?” Phleglethor picked the Rocket Man High School for his dining experience. Many students hadn’t made it in because of the appalling storms and blackout, but a few students had braved the elements and were gathered together in the commons trying to work out what was for lunch. It turned out they were the mystery meat. “Best as we can figure,” Dan Drury explained, holding Visionary back from the wreckage of his Condo, “the Hellraisers finished off the LL then came after the Juniors. The kids never stood a chance.” “No!” cried Falcon, hovering over the smouldering wreckage. “This can’t happen! My sister was in here. Lindy! Lindy!” Visionary watched numbly as the flying hero picked at the ruins with no hope of finding anybody left alive. He had failed the Juniors. He had failed Kerry. “It could be worse,” Drury comforted him. “Near as we can tell, the vampires didn’t get ‘em.” And then he went for Visionary’s throat. “Fear and horror and sorrow,” the Chain Knight observed, catching one of Asil’s tears and tasting it with relish. “Such an intoxicating combination.” “You didn’t have to kill them all,” his trembling captive told him. “They didn’t deserve it.” “That’s what makes it so satisfying,” Sir Lucian assured her. “The universe is random and cruel, and every vicious injustice is spitting in the eye of God. That’s what I live for now.” “Is there no spark of good left in you?” Asil appealed. The Chain Knight had taken the trouble to tell her of his origins. “No,” Sir Lucian promised. “Though feel free to cling to the absurd hope for a while. It will give me such pleasure to slowly strip you of it.” Asil tried not to cower, though she had felt such crushing terror. “Sir Mumphrey…” she began. “Is gone,” interrupted the Chain Knight. “The Hooded Hood had prepared a little retcon trap for him, and we used it to wipe your mentor from the Parodyverse. He won’t be rescuing you.” “And Visionary?” asked Asil with a trembling voice. “He’ll come.” “We killed him once,” Sir Lucian boasted, “but I do hope he’ll be back. I’ll want to show him what I’ve done to you.” Asil had nowhere to back away to. The Chain Knight laughed. “Everything you fear will happen to you, I’ll do: rape, torture, and disfigurement. And those will be the least of the things you will endure. Innocence is easy to destroy, purity hardly more challenging. But you have a core of compassion, bravery, and goodness that I will enjoy unpicking piece by piece, and in the end you will beg me to let you hurt your friends because it will mean temporary surcease from your own sufferings.” Asil swallowed hard. “They’ll stop you,” she said in a small desperate voice. “Stay here in this small dark cell, Asil,” the Chain Knight told her. “Treasure the solitude and the darkness, because it is your last protection. When you see the light return then despair, for I will have come to destroy you.” And he left the weeping girl alone. The team reassembled in the basement beneath the ruined Bean and Donut Coffee Bar, pale and desolate. Visionary pressed a reddening cloth to his neck wound where the vampire Drury had tried to kill him before Falcon had skewered the former SPUD leader. “We lost,” Epitome said. “This is the price the world paid.” “We should never have gone in,” Falcon snarled. “It was a dumb move and we all knew it. We acted with our hearts not our brains, we got the crap kicked out of us, we turned tail, and this is what happens.” “It was dumb, yes,” Visionary agreed. “And I’m going back to Herringcarp to do it again.” ~~That’s suicide,~~ objected Cressida. ~~Before we had Yo and Mumphrey too and they still slaughtered us.~~ “Hey, think of it as a dress rehearsal,” Trickshot suggested. “Next time we know what doesn’t work, right?” “So it’s suicide,” shrugged Nats. “I’m in. I’m taking down those bastards if I have to die to do it.” “It might be better to try and get out of the city, regroup, and come back with more preparation and a stronger force,” the Librarian suggested. “That makes good tactical sense,” agreed Hatman. “But Whitney, Dancer, and Lisa are still captives of the Hellraisers as far as we know. Maybe they’ve got Yo and Mumphrey too. We can’t leave them there.” “You think if those Hellraisers have had Mumphrey and the women prisoners for what, three-four days, they’re gonna be in any condition to rescue?” snorted Falcon. “You saw what they did to Paradopolis and GMY in that time. What d’you think they’ve done to Dancer or Lisa?” Visionary swallowed. “All the same,” he said, “I’m going back. If I have to go alone, I’m going back.” “We can’t get in like we did last time,” Al B. pointed out. “Does anyone think a frontal assault’s going to work?” “Does anyone think an assault’s gonna work anyway?” dull thud challenged. “It makes no sense to go in there and fight impossible odds,” Mr Epitome declared. “I’ll come with you though, Visionary.” “Yay ‘Pitty!” applauded CSFB! “So you turn out to have a very very tiny streak of decency after all! I’m in too Vizh. It’s like in Crisis, when Barry Allen goes out to take down the bad guys. If this is my last issue it’s going to be a double-sized epic!” “No way,” objected Falcon. “I want to take down the killers who slaughtered my sweet little sister, but this isn’t the way to do it.” The argument began anew, but just then the Manga Shoggoth bubbled urgently back down from lookout. “There are undead approaching this position,” he warned. “I think they know we are here.” “How many?” demanded Hatty, reaching for his Angels hat. The Manga Shoggoth considered. “All of them?” Baroness Elizabeth von Zemo opened her eyes and found she hadn’t been burned to cinders, although she could feel the heat. She was in some deep grainy ravine with the youngsters of the Junior Lair Legion. “What just happened?” she demanded. Ham-Boy was sat clutching his torn chest while Fashion Accessory created compression bandages for him. Kerry was stood gazing upwards, her eyes distant and unfocussed. Lindy Wilson and Hacker Nine were seeing to the raw and bloody lump that was Harlagaz Donarson. The demihemigod looked like he had been flayed. Glory laid on her side unmoving. “I said what happened?” Elizabeth demanded, as the panic started to catch up with her. They’d been attacked, they’d almost died. She’d almost died. “That would be me,” the giant robot behind her admitted. Elizabeth von Zemo stifled a scream as the huge silver and yellow bug loomed over her. “Ah,” she said instead. “The Fleabot design, version 1.1 that still had the faulty reaction circuits.” “I beg your pardon,” frowned Fleabot. “Faulty what?” “Personality disorders,” the Baroness recalled. “And grossly overcomplicated for what it was. That’s why Baron Zemo discontinued the line.” “What are you talking about?” Fashion Accessory demanded. “Where are we?” “I bet I know,” guessed Hacker Nine. “Fleabot has some size-changing particle generation abilities for when he needs to assume non-flea size, so when Kerry went nuclear against the Hellraisers the last word she called out was…” “Was ‘Fleabot!’” Lindy realised. “So she didn’t go completely psycho and try to kill us all.” “Just the Hellraisers,” Elizabeth noted. “And you,” contributed Kerry through gritted teeth as she continued to ward away the firestorm above them by using her pyro-probability gifts. “But I’m not that skilled at using my powers yet.” “So Fleabot shrunk us all down?” Ham-Boy said, gasping from the pain across his chest. “How small?” “We’re currently concealed in a crack in one of the ceramic tiles of the kitchen,” Fleabot reported. “About the size of a dust mite.” Fashion Accessory hurried over to check on Glory. The wounded mutt of might wagged her tail feebly but couldn’t get up. “So all we have to do is wait out the fire, and for those baddies to go home, then have Fleabot zap us to normal size,” Lindy suggested. “Er, not quite,” admitted the robotic flea. “You see I used up my stored charge of size-changing particles. I don’t usually project them so far as to affect other people. But it’ll be regenerated in less than a couple of months.” “Wonderful,” breathed the Baroness. “Just wonderful.” “If we don’t get Harlagaz some medical attention soon,” warned Fashion Accessory, “he’ll be dead.” “And how long can Kerry keep those flames off of us?” Lindy worried. “Kerry? Kerry…?” They came in waves, co-ordinated by the older vampires that had risen to serve Nosferos, and they used tactics of a sort, piling wave after wave of undead against the Lair Legion to wear them down. The heroes fought valiantly but they were outnumbered five thousand to one. “This is startin’ to look an awful lot like a famous last stand,” Trickshot admitted as he used the last of his arrows and had to resort to hand-to-hand. Hatman was struggling beneath a pile of zombies that had ripped his cap away, unable to pull any other headgear on. “Looks like,” he admitted. They weren’t exactly famous last words. “Dying twice in one day totally sucks,” complained thuddy as Cressida’s transmutative powers were exhausted. He teleported vertically only to land back down in the scrum of flesh-eaters. The Manga Shoggoth was struggling with vampires in several separate gelid masses. “If I could reunite and gain a few moments respite I might be able to gate us out of here,” he gurgled. “Of course you would all be insane, but alive…” Visionary plunged his stake into the vampire before him then reversed it to spear the creature creeping up behind. “I think that was my postman,” he worried. The zombies behind him bore him down, hungry for living flesh. Then a fast moving pure thought being in a silken Zorro costume hurtled into the undead, knocking them away, somersaulted over one of the Shoggoth’s conflicts and deftly hurled Hatman’s Steelers’ cap onto Jay Boaz’ head. “Do not be to be giving in!” Yo called to the Lair Legion. “Is not to be end of struggle! Cute friends are not be of dying, Yo tell!” S/he shouldered aside the pile that was tearing at thuddy and hurled him across to Epitome and the Librarian. “Cute-Nats, please to be clearing away nasty black smoking clouds upping above us!” It took Nats a moment to shake free the half-wolf creature trying to tear his chest open but then the flying phenomenon understood what the genderless thought being was getting at. “Right!” he snarled, and flexed his telekinetic powers to the maximum. The thick pungent clouds over Paradopolis were blown aside as if by a hurricane, as Nats pushed thousands of tons of air around and changed the weather system for three states, before he folded like a cheap deck-chair. And the sunlight broke through and streamed down into Paradopolis Plaza. “Be finishing of the zombies and be to going of cute-Xander’s shop!” Yo called, vaulting away as the Lair Legion took the offensive once more. Messenger led the way into the cloisters, the square courtyard with the covered walkway at the heart of Herringcarp Asylum. Dead vines still clung to the ancient stonework, and the rain pounded down defining the invisible gateway for the hurried intruders. “There it is!” Sorceress declared. She rippled her fingers through the translucent oval, shuddering at what she felt. “But it’s warded.” “What does that mean?” Keiko asked, watching the shadows cautiously. “That it’s locked, in effect,” Cleone replied. “The Chain Knight is a master of wards.” “So we can’t get through?” frowned Messenger. “After all this?” “I didn’t say that,” answered Whitney Darkness. “I am the Sorceress!” “Could you be the Sorceress a bit faster, your majesty?” demanded Killer Shrike. “I think that black things catching up again and even if we feed it Stabbypants it’ll probably want more. She’s only bite sized.” “You killed him?” Messenger asked Keiko. “Well done.” “It still didn’t shut him up, though,” Keiko regretted. Whitney Darkness stood amidst the tempest and raised her hands and called to the storm. It was heavy with power, angry at being peremptorily summoned by Nosferos the Undying. She harnessed that resentment and offered it revenge. She spoke in a language never tongued by mortals, in concepts never known to human beings. And she explained what she wanted the tempest to do. A searing arc of lightning earthed fifty million volts through the Chain Knight’s wards, searing them for existence. Whitney’s face was lit by the massive energies she had called. “Ouch,” flinched Killer Shrike. “The way is open,” said the Sorceress. Then the Hood’s monster of darkness broke from the shadows and attacked. Keiko slashed with her katana, but the blade sunk into nothing. She realised she could no longer feel her arm. Messenger barrelled into her, tumbling them both away from the creature for a moment, hurling flares into its midnight shadow; but the flares flickered and were lost. Sorceress raised a hand to try and banish it, but her efforts had drained her. She faltered and would have fallen had Cleone not supported her. Messenger and Keiko were cornered. “Simon,” said Cleone, looking with silver-irised eyes at Killer Shrike. “This is your Choice.” “Now?” swallowed Simon Maddicks. “Here?” He glanced over at the spreading darkness. “To save her?” “It only wants the soul of a hero,” Whitney noted. “You should be safe.” “Everyone can be a hero,” Cleone told him. “Everyone has to decide.” “Ah, f*&£!” shouted Killer Shrike, and jumped in to rake the shadow with his wrist-claws. The creature reared back, trying to dislodge this irritant. Keiko and Messenger broke to either side of it and made for the gateway. Cleone pulled Sorceress through behind them. Simon Maddicks fell into the creature, sinking in shadow until only his yellow topknot was visible; and then he was gone. The creature stood still for a moment, then oozed away into the darkness. It took the better part of an hour for the battered heroes to battle their way over Off-Central Park and into the slums of Hell’s Bathroom. The tightly-packed buildings were still burning in this part of town, but that made it easier to fend off the leaderless zombie hordes and eventually the team were able to lose themselves in the twisting alleyways of that grim ghetto. “I thought Xander was dead,” objected the Librarian as they hunted out the narrow dead end where the Watch Repair and Plumbing Shop was hidden. “All I know is, if Yo said to do it we do it,” Vizh replied, helping Al B. carry the unconscious Nats. “If Yo’s got a plan then that’s one more than the rest of us.” “Here we are!” called Trickshot, taking point with CSFB! he rounded the corner and indicated the battered old storefront. “Be very careful,” Hatman warned. “Epitome, Dream, you’re in first. Shoggoth, Falcon, rearguard.” Epitome pushed open the shop door. The alarm clock balanced as an impromptu doorbell toppled down, bounced off his head, and fell to the floor ringing loudly. “Aha!” said Xander the Improbable. “There you are! Come on in!” Mac Fleetwood opened his eyes and looked blearily up at Grace O’ Mercy. “I’m alive?” “You’re alive,” the Night Nurse told him. She looked frail and exhausted, far from her usual cool and competent self. There were dark shadows under her eyes as if she’d been crying. “Welcome back.” Reverend Fleetwood realised he was in a hospital bed. “I was ill,” he remembered. “And Laurie…!” “In the next room,” Grace assured him. “Jay and I found you, and then… well there was a vaccine.” “A cure?” Mac asked. Grace looked away again. “Kind of. You see, Goldeneyed and a teacher called Beth Shellett had the Plague. And Uhunalura cured them.” There was a lot Grace wasn’t telling, about Uhuna’s choices and her murder, about her own fall and the craving that was destroying her, but she went on. “Well Dr Whitfield reasoned that they might still have antibodies in their blood, and he isolated them to culture…” “So Uhuna found a way to save everybody,” Mac concluded. “She must be very proud.” “Not really, Mac,” Grace said, sadly, “you see, after that she…” And then the voice spoke in her mind, in cold merciless tones that she couldn’t shut out. “Come to my, my little slave. I await you outside this place of healing. You will come to me, and bring a mortal that they may invite me in.” “Oh…!” Grace gasped as she heard the summons of Nosferos the Undying. In her mind she could see him, and the army of undead he had called together to feast. The hospital was full of gift-wrapped victims that couldn’t run. “What is it?” Mac Fleetwood asked as he saw the expression on Grace’s face. “I have to go,” she replied. She swallowed back a sob. “I have to,” she said. And then the Night Nurse hurried away to meet her destiny. The Lair Legion crowded into the cluttered shop of the master of the mystic crafts, and ManMan brewed them some thick sweet tea. “Thanks, Manny,” Trickshot grinned as he accepted the chipped I-Heart-Thaumaturgy mug. “So is Xander not dead after all or is this whole thing even weirder than it seems?” “It’s weirder than it seems,” Knifey, ManMan’s talking blade answered. “but Xander’s alive.” “Okay,” CSFB! asked, “Where’s Yo?” “Yo’s not here,” answered the sorcerer supreme. “Almost literally. I’m impressed that s/he was able to manifest enough to give you directions.” “Look, man, I been killed once today and my little sister got wiped out along with two whole cities,” snarled Falcon, “so for once can we cut the fortune-cookie crap and get to the chase?” “What he means,” Vizh explained, “is that we seem to have stumbled into a nightmare.” Xander sipped his tea. “Well, if you already know that, why are you asking me to explain it all to you?” “Because despite our somehow surviving our last encounter thanks to Mumphrey’s secret mojo…” began Hatman, but Visionary interrupted him. “Wait, what?” the possibly-fake acting leader of the Lair Legion demanded. “When you said this was a nightmare…” “I didn’t say that,” Xander pointed out. “You worked it out all by yourselves. It wouldn’t count if I told you.” “Do you mean a literal nightmare?” the Librarian asked. “As in, none of this is really happening?” “An imaginary story!” Dream caught on. “So all our friends aren’t dead and Paradopolis isn’t ruined!” “Since you came through the portal you have been in the Nightmare Realms,” the master of the mystic crafts told them carefully. Nats continued to stare at the floor with an ice-pack to his head. “So Uhuna’s still dead.” For a moment he’d almost come alive again. “But not too much time has passed for Lisa, Dancer, and Whitney,” Vizh reasoned. “Only the time we’ve spent trapped in this horrible illusion!” “The Portal of Pretentiousness can transport people anywhere,” Al B. Harper realised. “Including into the Land of Nightmares. “Frightmare’s realm,” Hatman remembered. “The Lord of the Nightmares. We fought him twice before.” “But why would the Portal bring us here, of all places?” Al B. nagged. “Random chance, or some deeper reason? Accidents don’t tend to happen around the Hooded Hood. So why…?” “Because the bad guys behind the Hellraisers are hiding out somewhere in this dimension,” ManMan supplied. “Xander faked his death – well kind of – and we tracked the Hellraisers back to their spooky extradimensional castle in the vortex, and then followed the trail to their bosses back to here.” “Because the Hellraisers aren’t big enough bad enough nasties on their own. They have to have bosses,” sighed dull thud. “Cressie, after all this is over, please tell me we can retire from the hero biz.” ~~We’ll consider it,~~ the sentient telepathic tapeworm promised. “This could explain the strange wefts and warps in causality,” the Manga Shoggoth calculated. “The narrative flow is being altered, the flow of events working against the heroic protagonists this time…” “The Resolution War,” Xander spat. “The Hellraisers are charged with starting the Resolution War.” “Why should they do that?” demanded Hatman. “Apart from the obvious carnage, I mean? Triggering the Resolution War was the obsession of that mad Resolution Prophecy, not… oh no. No!” “Lord Resolution?” Trickshot winced. “Again?” “It makes sense,” the Shoggoth admitted. “The Chain Knight would need serious power to overthrow and replace Death and to cause the dimensional blockades he has undertaken.” “Close but no cookie,” Knifey chipped in. “Best we can tell, the Resolution Prophecy’s power has been harnessed, but the so called Lord Resolution’s not calling the tunes.” “No,” agreed the Librarian. “This doesn’t quite feel like his modus operandi. This is more…” ~~Evil,~~ contributed Cressida. ~~This feels evil.~~ And that was when the Chain Knight caved in the front of Xander’s shop. “Full marks, little enemies!” he admitted. “Hellraisers, kill them!” Kerry buckled to her knees. The flames were coming nearer and her strength was waning. “I can’t call for help,” Fleabot cautioned. “They’re still jamming all communications.” “Just hold on, Kes,” FA urged. “You can do it.” “I can’t,” Kerry admitted. “Not for much longer.” “If we don’t get Gaz and Glory some proper medical attention soon it won’t matter for them anyhow,” Ham-Boy warned. “We can’t get out, and nobody’s going to find us while we’re this small,” Hacker Nine realised. “Nice plan,” the Baroness told the Juniors. “Well done.” “They will,” Kerry grimaced, straining to keep going. “Visionary will come. He promised.” And the flames licked closer. It was a no hope battle. The Legion were tired, hurt, and confused and the Hellraisers were fresh and had them cornered. Librarian, Al B., Visionary, Trickshot, thud, and Nats were all taken down by Phleglethor’s initial blast of mustard gas. Then Xander the improbable stepped forward. “The hidden mage at last,” mocked the Chain Knight. “I wonder if you’ll last longer against us than did your successor?” “I’ll talk with you when you’re not Frightmare’s phantasms,” snapped the master of the mystic crafts, “although I’ll admit you’re as dangerous here as the originals. Knifey, do it now!” ManMan concentrated as Xander had taught him and gashed Knifey in midair, peeling away the façade of illusion that was Frightmare’s realm, leaving a glaring gash to the reality beyond. “Now, Yo!” called Xander as the Legion held back the illusions of the Hellraisers. The pure thought being summoned all his/her will, manifested in that place s/he had no right to be except for the belief of her friends, and hurtled through the rift. “Hello, uncute-Frightingmare,” the pure thought-being shouted to the dark creature that sprawled across a throne of woe. “Is time to be fighting of somebody your own size!” Frightmare formed a seething black broadsword of utter pain. Yo swept it aside and ran his/her rapier neatly through the Nightmare Lord’s heart, and held it there as the surprised entity untangled into black ribbons of hate and then into nothing. And then the Nightmare Realms ceased to exist, and the Lair Legion had nowhere to go at all. Asil saw the light returning, and knew her time had come. She stood up and balled her fists, determined to struggle to the last, whatever happened. She would not be a helpless victim. She would not despair. The cell door shifted two minutes into the future. “What?” gasped Asil as she saw an unfamiliar young woman peering in at her. The stranger had the classical beauty of a 40s film star and she was holding the Chronometer of Infinity. “Miss Ashling?” Asil’s rescuer ventured. “How do you do? I’m Marjorie Wilton, and I rather need your assistance to smite the ungodly.” Next Time: Sorceress’ secret, Xander’s irregulars, Kerry’s last stand, G-Eyed back in action, Lisa’s choice, Grace’s doom, Visionary at the Lair Mansion, the Hooded Hood’s pact, and featuring special guest star Lady Marjorie Wilton, Keeper of the Chronometer of Infinity, and a few other old friends. Things come together in UT#196: Awkward Corners, or A Twist in the Untold Tale Cry Havoc! And Let Slip the Footnotes of War! So hold on, some of this didn’t really happen? This chapter features accounts of the Lair Legion struggling against Frightmare, Lord of the Nightmare Realms, wherein he reflects back the fears and horrors of our heroes. Anything that happens in red writing happens in Frightmare’s realm and was only his nasty illusions. As usual, the text in lightslategrey was a genuine part of the events of the narrative. Hence Drury, Graham, Mr Papadapopolis, and the orphans are still alive and kicking (well, apart from the SPUD helicarrier reactor core going critical, or which more next time), whereas the folks at the mansion really did get ripped apart last issue. And the stuff the story didn't explain enough for everybody: A query from Visionary suggested that some of the rationale of the tale didn't quite communicate. So here's the shouldn't-have-been-needed explanation: Vizh: The Nightmare Realm certainly provided a look at the stakes. I'm not quite clear on why Yo couldn't be there, however... was that covered in a past visit to the place? If so, I'm afraid I've forgotten it. I may not have expressed this properly. Yo, a pure thought being linked directly to the Happy Place, is almost the antithesis of Frightmare and his realm, where there is very little to be happy about and where all thoughts are impure. Hence Yo can hardly manifest there or exist at all. What the story tries to hint at is that Yo could only manifest because his friends loved and believe in him/her, which offered a way in. The Lair Legion carry a little bit of Yo with them however bad things get, and sometimes that's how they survive the nightmares. Vizh: Truthfully, I'm not really sure what you were aiming at with the brief return of Vizh for leader. He didn't really do anything positive, and they'd have all died again if Yo hadn't appeared to give some orders. Admittedly, I was kind of surprised they looked to him at all, no matter what the bylaws might say. Hatty's naturally commanding in these situations, and in the absence of anything from Vizh I thought he'd take over. So while I certainly don't object to any illustration that Vizh isn't right for the leadership job, I was kind of surprised to find that argument here given your past campaigning for him to return to the post. Again, a failure to communicate my ideas properly then. The idea of the nightmare passages was to present people with their worst fears, extrapolated from the situation they were facing in the real world and their own personal horrors. While this had some explicit set pieces like murdered friends and a ruined city of dead innocents, I also tried to offer up some subtler versions too. Hatman lost his headgear in combat and became helpless. Al B couldn't find a technical fix. Trickshot runs out of arrows and can't save everyone. And so on. Visionary's nightmare was that he was once again thrown back in charge of the LL at a time when he couldn't do anything effective to lead them and they were dying because of it. Hatman's nightmare was perhaps that Vizh was thrown back in charge too. But if you look closely at the story you'll notice that despite Vizh's fears he does actually make the important decision which saves the team - to do as Yo asked - and recognises the key truth that allows them to escape - that this is a nightmare. So Visionary's own fears about his leadership are actually unfounded although he doesn't recognise it. Or at least that's what I was hoping to convey. The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom Who's Who in the Parodyverse Where's Where in the Parodyverse Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2004 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2004 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. The right of Ian Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. |
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