ORIGINS

Part I: Scotland

By Ed Ainsworth

Brian Braddock, the current Captain England and sometime leader of the Shadow Captains, sat in a dingy looking bar in County Fife, Scotland. He nestled a beer in between his cupped hands as he watched his friend and colleague down his fifth pint of the hour. The blond-haired man known as Captain Scotland looked down the pint glass at the dregs that sat in the thick receptacle, as though they were questions that plagued the deepest parts of his mind.

“So, Brian. How does it feel to know you can never go home again?” he asked after a moment, a slight slur to his voice.

Brian arched an eyebrow and took a tiny sip from the top of his beer before setting it down again.

“Odd. I never thought that Otherworld would… not be here any more. We’re more disconnected from what was my old power source than ever before, but I’ve never felt so… powerful,” Brian admitted, casting a glance back to the blond man as he ordered another pint of beer.

“I feel like the loss of Otherworld has been a sort of… freedom for me, Callum. With the folklore and legends and everything else running around the countryside, and the Corps gone from my life, I feel like my connection to England herself really… strengthened. I feel more confident and powerful than I have in years.” Callum scoffed a little, thumbing himself into his chest.

“We all ken Scotland’s more powerful’n England, Brian. Means I c’n take you in a fight,” Callum mocked, as Brian punched him in the arm a little.

“You reckon,” Brian said, before the leaned back a little. “I want to run something by you.”

Callum’s eyebrows quirked up and he offered a cheeky smile.

“Run somethin’ by me, eh? Well, Mister high and mighty leader man, what might that be?”

“I want to introduce more Captains,” Brian said slowly, lifting his hand up to stop the shocked look on Scotland’s face.

“Hear me out here. Just think, as Captain Britain I was supposed to patrol and protect the entire British Isles, right? That’s a hell of a distance to cover every day. I can’t manage to do that; God, I doubt the five of us could cover that distance every day – so why not have a local Captain? If we were to rebuild the Corps, but to our image, then it might just work better.” Brian looked over the other Captain’s features for something. Hate, intrigue, enjoyment. Anything.

“So, what do you mean our image?” he said finally, after his eyebrows seemed to seamlessly knit themselves together.

“Here’s what I am thinking. We remain the Captains of our respective countries – I’ll be Captain England, you Captain Scotland – but they’re made of component counties, so we’ll have a Captain London, and Kent and so on and so forth, and a Captain Fife, and a Captain Aberdeenshire, et cetera. You get me?”

Callum nodded slowly.

“So, you want us to do this then?”

“Well, I’ve already made arrangements with Roma to do it. I’ve got my first Captain in mind as well,” Scotland laughed at Brian, and ran a hand through his greasy hair.

“Well, so you running this by me is more of a formality than anything, right?” Scotland asked. Brian cracked a smile and rubbed the back of his head with a hint of embarrassment, before he gave a curt nod.

“Yeah, it kind of was.” Silence broke out as Brian took another sip from his pint and Callum knocked his sixth back with glee.

“Hey, maybe you should, I don’t know, calm down with the drinking,” Brian prodded. Callum waved him off and ordered another pint.

“I know my limits, Brian.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, but before I knew it I was lashing out at my team-mates and wife. Ended up isolating myself because I couldn’t go through a day without drinking something alcoholic.” He narrowed his eyes a little at the Scotsman. He knew the signs.

“Yeah, well, that’s you and this is me. I know my limits,” Callum answered, irritation in his voice.

“Come on, man,” Brian said, a plea to his voice. Callum threw the glass in Brian’s face, shattering it over his forehead, and knocking him clean off the stool.

“I said I know me own fucking limits, Brian.” Callum dropped off the stool and charged out of the bar, knocking the door off its hinges on the way out. Brian watched him leave from his position on the floor.

“Wow. Totally misjudged that situation, Brian,” he said to himself. He crawled to his feet and threw a fist full of notes at the barman as he charged out after Scotland. The blond man was standing not too far away from the doorway to the bar, his fists balled as he stared up at the sky. He was talking to someone.

Brian slowed down, to try and catch a glimpse of who it might be. As far as Brian could see, there wasn’t anyone else around.

“Callum?” he asked after a minute. The blond man turned around, stopping what he was saying mid-sentence. “Who are you talking too?”

“Who cares?” Callum replied. “You’ll probably tell me not to talk to them neither?”

Brian sighed, and rubbed his hands together, nervously.

“I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do, Callum. I just know the signs, you know? I don’t want this to end the same way it did for me,” Brian admitted. Callum sighed an annoyed sigh, and stepped a bit closer.

“It’s already been the end, Brian. Now it’s the beginning all over again.” Callum ran a hand through his hair and leaned back, looking at the sky.

“Before I was Captain Scotland, when I was just plain ol’ Callum Dinsdale, I lived up in Cooper, not far from here actually, and I was happily married. Or at least I thought I was.” Callum wrung his hands together, as he slid down against the tree he stood under.

“Started off drinking with mates, we’d go out to the pub after work. Down a few bevvies and then head off to the women’s for dinner. Time was we’d only have a few, then it ended up being seven or eight some nights, then that became the norm. Steve quit because his wife left him, couldn’t afford to spend the money. Gary found work elsewhere and the others just… stopped slowly. Ended up being me drinking. Alone. All the time.” He looked up at Brian, as he sat down next to Callum slowly, listening to his words.

“I ended up leaving me job, which was really well paid. Paid for my wife and kid to have everything they ever wanted. Playstation? Have seven. Money was nothing t’me. Wasnae even a big deal to buy cars for the missus, but all she ever wanted was for me to be happy, and t’kick the booze.” He looked fondly at his hands, as he reached down into his pockets, pulling out a wallet, and removing a small picture, creased through the middle.

“Gonna sound clichéd here, Brian. These things always do, but nothing’s original any more is it? My secret origin isn’t going to rock any boats, or break the mould, but it’s just an origin, not a creative endeavour.” Callum handed Brian the picture slowly, taking a moment to let his touch linger on the photograph. It hadn’t left his wallet for a long time. Brian heard the bitterness in his voice as he spoke of his “origins”. Clearly it held a lot of pain for him, as well as a lot of good memories. A bittersweet origin story.

“I left my job, and worked with my wife and kid to get clean. I didn’t drink a drop of booze for nearly four years after that. We worked so hard. I went to meetings, my wife supported me, and she was there for me every minute. Gave me distractions and love and everything else I needed to just get out of the hole. She was a saint,” he continued. Brian looked down at the woman. Beautiful red hair that sat in a bob, and thick, luscious lips. His son was only about eight in the picture. He got the feeling something awful had happened to them.

“I got tenure working for a National Park. Wasn’t a hard job, wasn’t anything really amazing. I got to make sure everything was in order, the animals weren’t being hurt, people weren’t lighting fires. It was a solid job, and I got to sit in nature every day. Nothing bad about that, right?” He looked at his watch and got to his feet slowly. “Co’on, we got places to be.”

“We do?” Brian asked, as he followed Callum getting up. The Scotsman nodded, and pointed down the street towards another pub.

“Is that a good idea?” Brian asked, slowly following Callum’s steps. He was wobbly on his feet.

“It is. Trust me. I got information that something we’re after is in there, molesting people with its words,” Callum said, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

“What happened in the Park then?” Brian asked, as they walked through the doors of the pub.

A normal, older looking pub, where the stains of beer and cigarettes hadn’t quite been worked out of the decorations. Pictures faded by artificial lights and smoke sat on the walls, showing scenes of the countryside and men drinking. It was a fairly desolate, aged pub, with a few scattered mahogany tables lining the walls, yet it was filled with young people, between the ages of 18 to mid-20’s. They were all sat around the stage where a lone man sat. He was well dressed, a T-Shirt underneath a suit jacket, clearly showing the definition of his toned body. He sat with confidence, facing the audience full on, the microphone in his left hand, and a pint and cigarette balanced in the other, as he sipped and smoked at the same time. He was a cool character, Brian thought, or at least what the world thought as cool.

Although Brian had a slightly different opinion on cool than most people.

“Well, it was going fine for the first few years, but after a while, I started to have what my therapist said was a nervous breakdown. Psychotic flashes where animals would talk to me. Pretty strange, no?” Callum said, as he eyeballed the man sat on the stage, and sat down at the bar pointing to the beer pump and flicking two fingers up at the attractive woman behind the bar.

“Two of your best, love,” he said, flashing a smile that lacked canines.

“So, you started thinking animals were talking to you?” Brian said, looking over his shoulder as the man on stage began to speak. The man was nothing special really. He held no sway over the two men.

“I didn’t think it, Brian,” Callum said, taking the beers in hand, and walking them both towards a table. “They were talking to me.”

“Right. So, what happened?” Brian asked, taking his drink and sitting down slowly.

“I went mental. Got sacked from my job when they found me hanging around with a wildcat. They’re pretty endangered and they thought I was trying to tame it to be sold on. When I said it was me best mate, they thought I was eating the mushrooms out the back of the pine forest and dumped me off.” Callum offered a cheeky smile. It was a little funny.

“Mushrooms?” Brian asked with a smile.“How random.”

“Tellin’ me, Yeah?” Callum responded, looking over at the stage kid. He got to his feet and began to talk.

“Stop me if you’ve heard this one,” the suave young man began, to the laugh of a few students. He closed his eyes, and began to speak. “Two men walk into a bar, one man says to the other, “It’s not original and it’s not unique, but it’s my origin.”

Callum looked over at Brian, whose jaw dropped a little in recognition of what the kid had said.

“There’s more,” Callum whispered.

“The man goes on to explain his struggles with addiction and mental problems, though his friend isn’t quite sure if the mental problems are what they present themselves to be. The man has the power to see through the eyes of nature and make nature see what he sees.”

“Can you do that?” Brian whispered. Callum nodded slowly and downed half of his pint.

“Who is this guy?” Brian asked, as the kid on the stage sat down again.

“His name is Thomas. They call him Thomas the Rhymer, although he’s more a spoken word poet these days. He’s a prophet. Called the one-ruler of England and Scotland the day that Merlin’s grave was flooded. That was the day that James the First was put in power.” Brian shook his head at Callum’s words. Callum took another gulp and pointed towards two women sat close to the stage.

“Bird with the multi-coloured hair has got the Vision-Aids from him,” Callum said, putting his pint down.

“What?” Brian asked.

“Vision-Aids. It’s sexually transmitted Augmented Insight Disease. It basically means she can see possible futures, all because that toss-pot wouldn’t wear a rubber.” Callum directed Brian’s vision past the attractive girl, whose long strands of hair touched the small of her back, knotted together in coloured strands of yellow, blue and gray cloth.

“That girl next t’her,” Callum said, leaning back in his chair and sliding his now empty pint glass towards Brian, “she’s the Rhymer’s little perception magnet. He pumps his words through her, which is why he keeps looking at her, and she throws out little glimmers to the kids around. All the boys have hard-ons and all the girls want him, basically; he’s using sex to get these kids to perpetuate the myths of himself.”

The girl turned her attention, for a moment, to the two men sat discussing her. She pushed some of the thick strands of black hair from her face and directed her attention, and that of the two men, down towards her large breasts. They were larger than they should have been, and her thick black lipstick made her lips two sideways magnets towards the angles of her face. She was incredibly attractive. Brian gulped loudly, and Callum winked at him.

“Hang on, he’s doing what now?” Brian asked, scratching his forehead a little as the guy winked at a girl, who flushed violently and excused herself to go to the toilet quickly.

“Basically, when you make a baby, what d’ya do? Y’shoot DNA inside a woman, and nine months later she busts out a screaming lump of flesh and turds.” Callum smiled as he thumbed the picture of his family in his pocket. “This guy is doing that to these kids. He’s having sex with them and keeping the myth of himself alive, by perpetuating himself inside these kids.”

Brian turned his nose up and curled a lip. “That’s disgusting.”

Callum nodded and leaned forwards again, throwing a thumb towards a fairly dumpy looking girl with dyed blonde hair and thick glasses.

“He’s going for her tonight. She appears to be new. She’s sort of swaying, but she isn’t sat anywhere near anyone else,” Callum commented. Brian nodded, as he took a small sip from his own beer, trying not to look obvious.

“He leaving now?” Brian asked. Callum shook his head, as Thomas left the stage. “He’s going to mingle and then take her out the back and have her in his car, along with every other girl here. Some of them’re probably going to watch. It’s amazingly twisted.”

After a minute or two of silence, Brian coughed.

“What happened after you got told to do one from work?” Brian asked.

Callum smiled, and cracked his knuckles.

“Some fucking arsewipe killed them, didn’t he?” Callum said. Brian gulped and looked down at his pint.

“Serial rapist was upping his game, y’see. Ended up murdering some 50-year-old tart down the road, and raping a couple of women by train-lines because he liked the danger. Upped his game to rape and murder. Didn’t count on my wife being awake, and having a kid. Rob was ten and four months, but he was protective of his dear ol’ Mum. Hit the guy in the back with a cricket back. Broke one of his ribs with that, he did,” Callum smiled with pride, before his eyes welled up slowly.

“Didn’t really help none, though. Guy turned around and broke Rob’s nose with one punch, before he beat the shit out of him with the same bat. He turned on my wife and then went about his business. So, all that when I went out for the first time in a month to get some takeaway. If I’d have stayed in…”

Brian sighed, and touched Callum’s arm. He pulled it away.

“Don’t be a gaylord, Brian. I don’t want a motivational speech or anything, it’s just tough. The guy got five years, and he’s been out for a month. I keep waiting to see where the rape has happened next, and this guy is winding me right up, you know?” he thrust his head towards Thomas, who was laughing and chatting with the larger girl, who was already pressing herself against him, and fiddling with his belt buckle.

“Started drinking again about four weeks ago, and it’s never felt so appealing.”

“I can see that,” Brian said, slowly. “My wife died a little while ago, and it’s never really got any easier.”

Callum winced a little, and tilted his head to one side.

“Yeah, I dunno if we’re really in the same boat here, Brian.”

“What do you mean? We’ve both lost?”

“You lost a wife who was a superhero with you. You knew the risks, so did she. Probably went out like a hero because that’s the sort of people you’d probably hang around with. My wife died when her skull caved in from a cricket bat after some pikey bastard violated her. Not quite the same thing,” Callum buffeted with his words as he sat and said nothing, sulking at his comments.

The couple over at the bar got to their feet and left out the side door. Callum got up slowly, and gestured for Brian to do the same.

“Come on, they’re leaving, and we should follow them.”

“Yeah, that sounds great. Maybe we can compare the finer notes of loss afterwards,” Brian spat.

“Don’t be a petulant prick, Brian,” Callum said, as they made their way through the crowd towards the side door. Brian smiled at a bright, attractive young girl who had thick blonde hair cut into a blunt fringe, and casting itself in straight curtains down to her shoulders. She reminded him a little of Meggan.

They both slowly strolled outside, Callum casting a glimpse towards the cars.

“Shit, lost them. How the hell are we going to find them now?”

“I’m not sure I want to do this any more,” the girl said, as she looked down at the man between her legs, her underwear around her ankles. He scoffed and looked up at her.

“Everyone’ll think you’re frigid, Ana. Do you want that? Because people’re gonna ask me how it was, and I don’t lie to m’friends,” Thomas said, his thick accent highlighting every word, his shirt unbuttoned and his trousers at his ankles.

“Honestly, I don’t think this is right,” she said, pulling herself up to a more comfortable sitting position. His face turned to anger, as he ramped up his powers, trying to influence her more by pumping out sex pheromones and mind-altering hormones. She sighed, and tried to push him off.

“Please, just stop, okay?” She tugged at her underwear, as he grabbed hold of it, stopping her pulling it up.

“No, I’m telling you, this is how it should be. Now leave them and let me get on with this, it’ll be over soon and you can get out of here, and be a better person for it,” Thomas said. Ana kicked him in the shoulder, knocking him into the passenger seat of his car. He growled in annoyance.

“I didn’t want t’have to do this but…” His words lingered, as his expression grew dark. As he raised his fist, a blurred hand shot through the glass of the car and collared Thomas, pulling him free of the frame of the car through the shattered window and launching him into a nearby tree.

As Callum turned his attention to the man he’d just thrown, Brian tore the door of the car off, and reached inside for the girl.

“Don’t panic, we’re trained professionals. You might have seen me on telly, actually. I’m Captain England, used to be Captain Britain.” He offered her a hand, which she denied, curling herself up into a ball, as she watched her eyes wide. Callum lifted Thomas up by his neck and rammed him into the tree. Thomas let out a loud gurgle, which caught the attention of Brian.

“Callum? Don’t kill him, y’daft bastard!” Brian yelled, as Callum looked over for a moment, flashing an evil smile to Brian as he pinned Thomas to the tree and grabbed hold of his genitals.

“Y’think you’re something special, eh? Some sort of prophet reincarnated to give th’world something new and important? Tellin’ people of their woes and their troubles while you’re fannying around getting laid all t’time. I got something t’tell you, boy,” Callum said, his voice growing quieter and quieter.

“I’m nae gonna kill you. I ken you on that, right? I’m gonna make sure that y’don’t do what you’ve been doin’ though. We know you’re just a little flesh engine for a Folklore entity. We know this. D’ya think that we’re Captains of the United Kingdoms because we’re just good lookin’? He might be,” Callum thumbed over at Brian, as he watched from a distance, his expression becoming increasingly concerned.

“Me, I’m a lunatic underneath it all. I read things, I learn things. The birds tol’ me that you’re here tonight. That’s how we found you. The birds. They don’t like the songs y’sing, you ken. I was ‘splaining to Brian earlier that my wife n’son were killed by a rapist, right?” Callum dropped Thomas onto the floor, and delivered a swift kick to the ribs, knocking him against the tree. He knelt down and pushed his face into the grass.

The kid thrashed around a little, trying to grab hold of some purchase to push himself up.

“I don’t like the idea of rape myself. Never did. Especially don’t like it now my family’s ruined because of it. You’re little more than a glorified rapist. Gettin’ intae peoples heads and perpetuatin’ yourself by impregnatin’ them with belief in you. I saw your other little engines in there, that pretty girl you infected to be your perception booster, and your insight vehicle. You’re a fraud, and a little, sexual deviant.” Callum continued lifting him off the ground and ramming him into the roots of the tree, which had slowly become uncovered over decades of growth.

“So ‘m gonna put a stop t’it.”

Callum pulled his hand back, balling it into a fist, and threw it downwards with all of his strength. It smashed into the now pulped genitals of Thomas. He let out a huge scream, before the wails of pain and tears came. Callum got up and wiped some of the gore from his fists, gore that had seeped through the fabric of his victim’s underwear.

“Well, that sorted that. No more raping happening in Cooper,” he said, walking up to Brian and offering a hand to the young girl. “He’s not going to do that t’anyone anymore.”

She took his hand slowly, ignoring the fact that it was covered in pulped testicle, as he pulled her out of the car.

“What’s your name?” Callum asked.

“Ana,” she responded, as he brushed her off and put his arm around her shoulder.

“How d’ya feel about having a drink? Calm the old nerves, eh? I know I’ve lost my buzz.”

She nodded slowly, looking back at Brian, who stood by the car, looking on at Thomas writhing in pain.

“Should we call an ambulance?” Brian asked, as Callum and Ana walked back towards the pub.

“Nah, I’ll get one later, Brian. I’m gonna have a drink with this girl, maybe it’s best if you went back to, you know, England,” he said, with a sly little nod. Brian paused for a moment then turned on his heels. He wasn’t sure what Callum was planning but he wasn’t sure that he liked that look. He’d seen a different side to the Captain today. He knew he was a bit of a bastard, and now he knew that he didn’t play by anyone’s rules. He was going to be a tough one to control in a fight, if there was even the possibility of control. Brian looked back down at the man crawling on his front, as Callum and Ana entered the pub, and shook his head.

It wasn’t the Excalibur he knew and loved, but it would have to do for now. Maybe something could be done about the way Callum acted. Maybe they needed an intervention. All Brian knew was that he needed some space from that particular Captain. Space that could be provided by heading south once more, back to London.

There was someone he needed to see…

Next Issue: Elsa Bloodstone!