NIGHT TERRORS

Part I

By Wesley Overhults

Transia, Earth-4, A Few Hours Ago

The sun glowed bright in the sky, its light pouring over the township at the foot of Mount Wundagore even as it began to set.  The small village was still and quiet at night. All of its residents knew better than to be out of their homes when the sun went down.  High in the cliffs of Mount Wundagore, overlooking the village like a tyrannical dictator, was Castle Dracula.  Those who dwelt in the town below knew of Castle Dracula and its occupants.  Those occupants were the reasons that the townspeople didn’t dare to venture outside at night.  However, there was one resident of that village who dared to make the trek to Castle Dracula on this late afternoon.

Illyana Rasputin was a young maiden of sixteen years.  She had lived her entire life in the town below.  She knew exactly the kind of monsters Dracula and his brides were and the sordid bargain the mayor of the village struck with the vampire.  Realistically, the people in the village had no choice but to deal with Dracula.  It was either that or watch their population decline every night thanks to being ravaged by the thirsty occupants of Castle Dracula.  The vampires had broken their word though.  Dracula’s daughter Lilith had seen fit to steal away Illyana’s older brother Piotr, perhaps to turn into a consort of her own.  Illyana wouldn’t stand for that.  She loved her brother dearly and she would fight these infernal creatures to save him from their dark world.

Illyana finished her climb over the castle’s outer wall.  She knew that during the day all of the castle’s residents slept in their coffins, safe and sound from the light of the sun.  The sun was setting though and she knew she had to make her work quick and quiet.  It was only a short run across the castle’s courtyard and then she entered the castle proper.  No human had ever set foot inside Castle Dracula and escaped without being turned into a vampire or at the very least a thrall.  Even now, legions of thralls patrolled the castle grounds to keep their masters safe while they slept.  Illyana didn’t know the way but she let her instincts guide her.  If vampires wanted to be as far away from the sun as possible then she reasoned that their coffins would be in the lower levels of the castle.  She hurried as fast as she could to the lower levels and was relieved to find that she was correct.  She let her icy blue eyes scan the row of wooden boxes.  The only way to find Lilith’s coffin was to open all of them until she got the right one.  Pressed for time, Illyana took the one closest to her and quietly grunted as she tried to heft the heavy lid.  She was in luck and saw the sleeping form of Dracula’s daughter inside the coffin.

“You won’t live to see the sunset, demon witch,” she said to herself as she pulled out her wooden stake and hammer.  “This is for my brother.”

Illyana pressed the tip of the stake against Lilith’s heart and then drove it through the vampire.  Lilith’s eyes opened wide and she tried to scream but it was already too late.  With the stake through her heart holding her in place, Illyana drew her sword from its sheath and leveled it in front of her.  In one vicious stroke, she chopped off the head of Dracula’s daughter and made sure that she would never haunt the streets of her village ever again.

“You’ve sealed your own fate, little snowflake.”

Illyana’s blood froze in her veins as she heard the words of her older brother.  She turned and saw him as Lilith had created him.  She hadn’t fully turned him yet, leaving him in her service as her thrall.  With Lilith’s life at an end, Illyana hoped that her brother’s soul could still be saved.

“Piotr, I’ve ended her cursed life,” announced Illyana.  “You’re free of her dark power.”

“It was not Lilith who tried to turn me, Illyana,” revealed Piotr, the sadness evident in his tone.

“Is this the little tart you call a sister?”

Illyana gasped with fright as she felt Wanda Maximoff’s ice-cold hands wrench her sword from her grasp.  All of Dracula’s brides were animals, callous and unfeeling towards the citizens of Illyana’s village.  Wanda was the most mercurial and capricious of all of them.  One instant, she could be very playful and seductive with her prey and in the next moment, she could eviscerate them without so much as batting an eye.

“Yes, Mistress,” answered Piotr.

“You killed my daughter,” reminded Wanda, running her fangs lightly against Illyana’s neck.  “She was an ungrateful, spoiled brat but that’s no excuse.  I think you need a lesson in manners and I think your brother’s going to watch me administer it.”

Wanda’s fangs punctured the ivory skin of Illyana’s throat with ease.  The young girl desperately tried to reach out to her older brother but he was powerless to do anything.  Wanda drank from Illyana’s neck and then removed her mouth from the girl’s throat.  Illyana felt so weak, so very tired.  She stumbled forward and struggled to remain on her feet.

“Mistress, please,” begged Piotr.

“Now my beautiful new thrall, I want you to do something for me,” commanded Wanda.  “Pick up that sword of yours.”

Illyana’s body betrayed her.  Her hands and arms moved to obey her new mistress’s commands.  She picked up her sword and then waited for her next command.  She wanted to scream.  She was trapped completely inside her own body, unable to do anything unless Wanda ordered her to do so.  Her frightened eyes looked to her older brother and she could tell that he was struggling to break Wanda’s control on him.  Wanda enjoyed the look of sadness in Piotr’s eyes just as much as the look of fright in the eyes of his sister.  She only wished that her husband or the other brides could be awake to enjoy the sight she was about to create.

“There are others in the village who will avenge me,” stated Illyana.

“I didn’t command you to speak,” reminded Wanda.  “Take that sword and ram it all the way through your chest.  Make sure the whole blade goes through, dear.  Piotr, I want you to watch it happen and you won’t lift even a finger to help her.  Are we all clear on what will happen?”

“Yes, Mistress,” chorused the Rasputin siblings in unison.

Illyana turned the blade of her own sword around and plunged it deep into her chest, right through her heart in fact.  She rammed the blade all the way through her body even as tears streamed from her eyes.  Piotr tried to cry but he was too deep under Wanda’s control to do anything but watch as his mistress had commanded him.

“Now, I need to confer with my husband and my sister-brides about what kind of punishment we should unleash on the people of your village,” said Wanda.  “Be a dear, Piotr, and clean up this mess.  My husband likes me to keep a tidy house.”

East Transia Village, Now

“This is fantastic vacation you gave us, William.”

Sandman could have done without Whiplash’s sarcasm.  From the second that the Exiles landed in this medieval village, they had drawn the ire of the entire town.  Even now, the time-tossed heroes huddled around one another and faced down the mob of angry villagers armed with pitchforks, torches, and whatever other implements they could get their hands on.

“I know we might look a little strange but we’re not here to hurt you,” promised Songbird, ever the voice of diplomacy in the group.  “Please just listen to me and let me try to explain.”

“We have enough trouble without you bringing a demon into our midst,” warned a man at the front of the mob.

“He’s not a demon,” corrected Wasp defensively.

“Technically I am,” countered Goblin.  “I mean no one any harm.  I’m sorry if my appearance may frighten you but we’re here to help you.”

“Everyone calm down now and we’ll sort this out,” ordered a dark-haired man with a mustache as he stepped inside the ring to stand with the Exiles.  “Forgive the actions of my citizens, strangers.  My name is Kurt Wagner and I am the mayor of this village.  Please excuse Reverend Sinclair’s vehemence.  All of us have been plagued by creatures of darkness ever since settling here.”

“That’s why we’re here,” said Sandman.  “You and the rest of these people have been victims of vampires.  We’re here to kill them for you.”

“A vain and proud boast,” scoffed Reverend Sinclair.  “Many people have tried but all have failed.  The only thing that keeps us safe is the bargain we struck with them. We give them a sacrifice every week and they leave us alone.”

“Living in fear is no way to live,” stated Songbird.  “We’re going to need a place to stay until it’s time for you to give the offering.  We’ll ambush them then and kill them.”

“I like killing vampires,” admitted Bruiser.  “We had to kick some of them out of LA back home.  It was fun.”

“You haven’t faced anything like Dracula,” warned Reverend Sinclair.  “The sacrifice is in a few days.  We’ll see if you can back up your outlandish claims.”

As Sinclair spoke, the mob dispersed and returned to their homes.  They knew well enough not to stay out too long at night.  All of them lived in fear of the vampires who lived in Castle Dracula.  In fact, some of those vampires were once citizens of the village itself.  Those that hadn’t been turned still remained frightened that their former friends and family in some cases would come for them in the middle of the night to turn them into one of those horrible creatures.

“Please forgive the townspeople,” apologized Mayor Wagner.  “We have an inn that you may use for your lodgings.  I’m sure the people who own it wouldn’t mind giving you rooms for free.  We try to keep quiet about the gruesome happenings.  It makes people not want to settle here and our population has been in decline for some time now.  I’m afraid we may not be able to continue living here much longer.”

“You could just pack up and move,” suggested Wasp.

“Dracula and his brides would kill all of us before we could get away,” said Mayor Wagner.  “If you’re interested in the bargain we made with them, you’ll have to talk to Constable Samuel.  He’s the one who helped me strike our deal with those monsters.”

“I’ll have a talk with him,” decided Sandman.  “Point me in the right direction and I’ll take it from there.”

“You won’t have to,” said a young, blond man as he kicked himself off of the building he was leaning against and made his way towards the Exiles and Mayor Wagner.  “I’m Constable Samuel.  I’m in charge of keeping the peace in this town.  Come this way and we’ll talk in my office.”

Sandman shrugged and followed the blond man into the building that he was leaning against.  He looked at the young man and tried to figure out what was familiar about him.  There was something about his face that made Sandman think he had met the boy before.  Of course, that didn’t really mean anything.  With all the different variations of people he had met during his time with the Exiles, Sandman knew that he could easily be confusing the constable with someone else from a different reality.

“Not much of an office,” noted Sandman as they stepped inside.

“Not much of a town,” reminded Samuel.  “What with those things up on the mountain scaring everyone half to death, we don’t have much crime in this village.”

“But you do have a visitor,” realized Sandman as he noticed someone sitting in the small holding cell in a corner of the room.

“John Boy over there is a vagrant, a drifter,” explained Samuel after sitting down at his desk and kicking up his feet.  “He’s mostly harmless aside from the fact that he hasn’t bathed in God knows when.  Mostly he just keeps rambling about how he’s dangerous, cursed in fact.  If it wasn’t for this town’s situation, I don’t think anyone would believe him.”

“They should,” spoke up John Jameson as he cracked open his eyes and got up from where he was laying on the bench in the cell.  “Trust me, I’m better off in here than out there with the rest of those good people.”

“Why’s that?” inquired Sandman as he stepped closer to the cell and got a good look at John through its bars.  “I think I can put a name to your face.  John Jameson, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” answered John.  “I can’t say I know your name though, good sir.  You’re new in town.”

“Oh yeah, very new,” agreed Sandman.  “So what’s this curse you have, Jameson?  Way I hear it, the only curse you have is your old man’s temper.”

“My father runs a print shop back in London,” said John.  “If you know of him then you must be a traveler like me.  As to the matter of my curse, when the moon comes out then you’ll see it.”

“He keeps saying that night after night,” added Samuel.  “I need to stop over at the Reverend’s house for a few moments.  I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Yeah, he’s not going anywhere,” declared Sandman.  “Don’t hurry, Constable.  We’ll both be here when you get back.”

Samuel left the office, leaving Sandman and Jameson alone in the darkened constable’s office.  Sandman knew exactly what curse Jameson was talking about.  It was the same curse that he apparently had in every world and this one was no exception.  Sandman knew that Jameson was a werewolf but apparently, his curse was a little different in this world.  It was going to take a real full moon to help him let out his inner monster rather than just the rising of the moon night after night.

“There’s a full moon coming tonight,” warned Jameson.

“You haven’t transformed since you arrived?” asked Sandman.

“No,” admitted Jameson.  “The moonlight has to hit me for the transformation to occur and it has to be a full moon too.  That’s not your problem though.  I don’t prowl alone.  I’ve got a pack and they’re going to come for me sooner rather than later.  The only thing that keeps them away is the threat of encroaching on those vampires and their territory.”

“Well me and my pack are here to take those bastards out,” said Sandman.  His head snapped to the door as he heard someone scream.  He heard some other sounds, mostly likely someone dying.  “Something tells me we’re not going to have to wait until the offering.  You said there’s gonna be a full moon tonight, right?”

“If the sky gets cleared up, you’ll see it,” confirmed Jameson.

“If I let you out of here, will you fight those things with me and my friends?” asked Sandman.

“I don’t think you’ll know the answer until you let me out,” retorted Jameson.

“I’m worried, Father.”

Rahne Sinclair didn’t have it easy growing up as the daughter of the village’s minister.  Her father wasn’t always the kindest of men but he was a man of the Lord and he believed in hard work.  He saw fit to take a firm hand with his daughter, knowing that he was solely responsible for her since her mother died during childbirth.  Life in their village was hard but Reverend Sinclair knew that God would see them through such tribulations.

“Why?” asked Reverend Sinclair.

Rahne was about to answer her father’s question when there was a knock at the door.  She took the lantern into her hand as she opened the door with the other.  Most residents of East Transia knew better than to be out at night and they knew that the vampires of Castle Dracula couldn’t enter a house without an invitation.

“Speak your name before you enter,” said Rahne.

“Constable Samuel,” answered Samuel.

Rahne smiled to herself and opened the door.  Samuel was a handsome man, a good man.  He upheld law in a world that was slowly turning into complete chaos.  It was a noble profession and Rahne couldn’t deny that she was smitten with Samuel.  She was just a simple minister’s daughter though.  Surely, he could find more worldly women in some other town, maybe even in some other country.  She could tell that he was a seasoned traveler and had seen more of the world than she had.  All she had was this village and it was living in the dark shadow of those who dwelt in Castle Dracula.

“I was making my rounds and wanted to check in on you and your father before I turn in,” lied Samuel.  “Are you well, Miss Sinclair?”

“I am, Constable,” answered Rahne.  “Come in and I can make you some tea.  I would like to entertain a moment of your time if I could.  I have some concerns.”

“Oh?” asked Samuel.  “Something I can help you with then?”

“My daughter is concerned about the whereabouts of Miss Rasputin,” said Reverend Sinclair.  “You know how close they are, Constable.  I would think they were sisters if I were not aware of the truth.  Have you seen her while making your rounds?”

“I haven’t checked the Rasputin house yet,” admitted Samuel, which was true enough since he hadn’t checked anyone’s house.  “Those poor people have had it tough ever since what happened to Piotr.  I would hate to think that something had happened to their only remaining child.  Has she come calling today?”

“No,” answered Rahne before her father could.  “Constable, I’m worried.  She confessed to me that she had intentions of avenging her brother.  You know as well as I do that she is a very headstrong girl and she loves her brother dearly.”

Rahne couldn’t speak further because her voice would have been drowned out by the scream that came from somewhere in the village.  Samuel was the first one to his feet as he raced for the door.  He needed to get to his office and get his weapon.

“Stay here,” he ordered Rahne and Reverend Sinclair.  “Under no circumstances do you open the door for anyone until I return.  I will not let any harm come to you.  You have my word.”

“God be with you, Constable,” said the Reverend even as Samuel left to do his duty.

“Looks like we didn’t have to wait very long for this mission to get finished,” said Songbird.  “Where’s Will?  Something tells me we’re going to need everyone on this.”

“Nah, vampires are easy,” said Bruiser as she cracked her knuckles and stood ready.  “Like I said, we ran some out of LA back home.”

“Who are these strangers?” asked Wanda Maximoff, looking to her sister-wives.  “We came here to exact retribution for what happened to our kin.  Illyana Rasputin has slain the daughter of Dracula and she has paid for it with her life.  We have been commanded by the Lord of Vampires himself to serve you people a grim reminder.  You struck a bargain of peace with us.  We will make you honor those terms at all times or else you will forfeit your lives.”

“We don’t live here so we don’t care about your deal,” stated Songbird.  “Exiles, you know what the mission is.  Just keep the townspeople safe and make sure you leave one of them alive.  We’ll need her to get an audience with Dracula.”

Songbird rose into the air and let out a sonic scream at the three brides.  It was enough to slow them down for only a moment.  Angelica Jones and Jessica Drew both vaulted into the night air to attack Songbird.  Melissa curled up her wings for only a moment and adjusted their frequency to cause them to sprout spikes.  She unfurled her wings and flung the makeshift stakes at the two vampires.  Both Angelica and Jessica dodged the barrage of shrapnel before soaring towards Songbird.  Angelica hit the co-leader of the Exiles with a shoulder tackle that sent her flying backwards and through a window.

“Get in air and help her,” ordered Whiplash before turning back to Wanda.  “I will handle this one.”

“No, me first,” countered Bruiser as she ran towards Wanda.  She didn’t make it that far as Wanda simply vaulted over her and hit her in the back of the head.

Whiplash charged his whips with electricity and cracked one in a stroke meant to separate Wanda’s head from her body.  Wanda snapped her fingers and someone flung themselves in the way of the attack.  The electrical whip left a nasty scorch mark across the chest of Piotr Rasputin as he vainly tried to save his mistress from certain death.  Whiplash didn’t even bat an eye at the fact that he had injured a seemingly innocent man.  Years as a mercenary meant he knew all about the concept of collateral damage and anyone who sided themselves with the vampires was surely his enemy.  He cracked his whips at Wanda again but again Piotr moved to take the strike for her.

“Well, he certainly didn’t last long,” said Wanda nonchalantly as she noticed that Piotr wasn’t moving after that last strike.  “I told my husband that the stock in this village wasn’t exactly the best.  It seems I was correct.”

“Next one will end you,” warned Whiplash before delivering another strike.

“I’m sure you think so,” said Wanda as she coiled the whip around her arm and used it to yank Whiplash forward with her enhanced strength.  She hit him with a vicious punch that almost knocked him out.  “Angelica, did you happen to be a dear and bring Michael with you?”

“Of course, sister,” answered Angelica before summoning Michael Morbius with a simple mental command.  “Unlike you, however, I made sure to turn him.  You always have a nasty habit of playing with your food.”

Morbius flew through the night sky and shielded Angelica from a hellfire bolt that lanced towards her from Goblin’s hand.  The bolt didn’t do any harm to him considering his soul was already damned to hell.

“These strangers are as resilient as they are unusual,” commented Jessica as she tried to get her hands on Wasp while the Exile was microscopic.  “Where do you suppose they came from?”

“This one came from hell it seems,” said Michael as he grappled with Goblin.  “He should be helping us instead of fighting against us.”

“I still have a soul,” said Goblin as he threw Morbius off him and then blasted him backwards.

The sky darkened slightly and bolts of lightning lanced from it to strike every member of the Exiles.  Dracula appeared, regally hovering in the air and surveying the scene around him.  In a simple gesture, he had struck down all of his enemies and now he was ready to deliver his wrath to the citizens of the town for the murder of his daughter.

“I have only asked for your cooperation in this bargain we have struck,” stated Dracula.  “One among you, a young girl no less, deemed it necessary to break the vows of that bargain.  She murdered my daughter and now I will take one of you as repayment.”

“Not tonight, monster,” warned Samuel as he took aim with his pistol and fired.

The silver bullet sang through the air and managed to hit Dracula in the shoulder.  The Lord of the Vampires growled in irritation and descended towards the lawman even as he tried to reload his pistol with another silver bullet.  Dracula threw Samuel through the door of a house and saw Reverend Sinclair and his daughter cowering behind it.

“I believe I have found my compensation,” he decided as he saw Rahne.  “Come to me, child, and know the tender embrace of the shadows.”

“You shall not harm my daughter, demon,” warned Reverend Sinclair as he pulled out a crucifix and held it out in front of him.  “In the name of Christ, I say that you shall not enter my home.  Be gone, foul beast.”

Dracula knew he couldn’t come into their house without an invitation and even if he got one the crucifix would still keep him at bay.  If he wanted the girl then the only option was the have her come to him.  He managed to lock eyes with her and he began to flex his mental abilities, imposing his will upon her.  Rahne could feel his presence in her mind and tried to look away but she was frozen, her eyes fixated on his.

“Come to me,” ordered Dracula and Rahne could swear it was the voice of God commanding her.

Her body moved without her consent, pulled towards him by some otherworldly force.  She couldn’t take her eyes off of his.  They were so deep, so commanding.  She didn’t think about anything else but the order he had given her.  She didn’t think about the warnings of her father, couldn’t even hear them in fact.  She didn’t think about how he was leading her out of her house and the safety it provided her.  When she finally reached him, a sigh of pure bliss escaped the redheaded girl’s lips.  Being near him felt so good, so unbelievably good.

“Illyana . . . my friend,” said Rahne, trying to fight the vampire’s influence.  “You killed . . .”

“Touch her and I’ll drop you where you stand,” stated Samuel as he leveled his pistol straight at Dracula’s head.

“I don’t think you’ll do anything,” said Dracula, making sure to move Rahne in front of him.  “I think you will watch what I do to her.”  With that, he bit into her neck with his fangs.

Samuel unloaded the contents of his firearm but something pounced on Dracula.  The beast roared with savage fury as it tore into Dracula with its claws.  The human wolf that was once John Jameson drew blood from the Lord of the Vampires before Dracula managed to turn to mist and slip from his grasp.  He saw that the werewolf was bleeding and realized that the constable’s errant shot had hit his new enemy instead of him.

“Nice night for taking a walk with your dog, huh?” asked Sandman as he blindsided Dracula from behind and knocked him to the ground with a giant mallet made out of sand.  “Sorry I had to let him off his leash but I figured he needed to run around a little.”

“Brides, we’re leaving,” ordered Dracula as he turned to mist again and wafted up into the sky.

Sandman was about to give the command to pursue him but he noticed that something else was wrong.  He turned and watched John Jameson scoop the dying Rahne Sinclair into his arms and take off into the woods surrounding the village.  William Baker cursed under his breath and tried to give chase but the werewolf had already disappeared amongst the trees.

“Damn it,” he said to himself.  “Last time I trust that son of a bitch.”

“You made a deal with that thing?” asked Samuel.

“For starters, he tried to warn you what he was but you didn’t listen,” retorted Sandman.  “Osborn, take Molly and go after the girl.”

“On it,” said Goblin as he flew into the woods with Bruiser hot on his heels.

“We were fine before you people showed up,” said Samuel.

“No, you were screwed the moment that girl went up to the castle and killed Dracula’s daughter,” corrected Sandman.  “Right now, we’re the only hope you and the rest of the people in this town have of living to see sunrise.  Let us do our job and we’ll make sure those things never come back to bother you again.”

“Did you end up fighting werewolves when you drove the vampires out of LA?” inquired Goblin as he used the hellfire emanating from his hands as a torch so he and Bruiser could see where they were going.

“No, it was just vampires,” answered Bruiser.  “How do you know where the thing went?”

“I’m not human anymore,” explained Goblin.  “Whatever dark magic is in me, I think I can use it to track the dark magic that’s inside that creature.”

“Awesome, you have GPS for monsters,” said Bruiser as she pushed aside a whole tree with her super strength just to get it out of her way.  “So how are we going to get back to town even if we find this girl?”

“No clue,” admitted Goblin as Bruiser pushed aside another tree.  “You could be a little quieter with that.  Chances are that thing knows how to cover its tracks.”

“I’m making a trail,” explained Bruiser.  “You said you didn’t have an idea how we could get back so I’m making sure we know the way.”

“And if you crush that girl in the process?” inquired Goblin.

Bruiser didn’t answer that.  Rahne didn’t mean anything to her because she wasn’t part of the mission.  It was strange because it wasn’t as if the mission meant anything to her either.  She was on the team because she had nowhere to go but that didn’t mean she actually believed in what the Exiles were doing.  She didn’t care about broken realities.  Her own life was broken enough already.

“She might already be dead,” Bruiser finally admitted.  “Ever think of that?”

Goblin didn’t answer that.  He motioned for her to stop and both of the Exiles stood perfectly still.  There was something out there in the dark, something that was growling at them.  They could see giant shadows moving to circle them and that was when they realized that Jameson had known exactly where he was going.  He was going to get the rest of his pack.

“Looks like that thing has friends,” said Goblin.  “Something tells me this is going to be a long night.”

Next Issue: Werewolves of Transia