NIGHT TERRORS

Part III

By Wesley Overhults

Castle Dracula, Transia, Earth-4

“Something about this smells wrong.”

Jack Russell had lived an unnaturally long life and most of that life was spent dealing with the curse of being a werewolf.  It was this curse that had made him more keenly focused on survival because he knew that his kind was a dying breed.  Russell had been all over the world, or at least as much of the world that could be traveled, and in all his adventures he had met others of his kind.  He had formed his own pack and become their leader by virtue of his experience.  Even though he didn’t have his enhanced senses while in human form, Russell had learned to cultivate the senses he did have so that they were above a normal human being’s.  He knew that things could always go from bad to worse in a matter of moments and he was sensing that storm brewing right now.

“I don’t like this either,” admitted Samuel.  “I understand that you don’t hold those creatures in positive regard but I have as much contempt for you as I do for them.”

“Even if I’m one?” asked Rahne.

Samuel chose not to acknowledge Rahne’s question for the moment.  The group made their way towards the large stone walls that comprised the far side of Castle Dracula.  They watched as Songbird flew over the castle’s walls and created a ladder made out of pure sound.  Russell nodded to the members of his pack before being the first to scale the ladder and get inside the castle’s walls.

“Sandman wants you to watch our backs,” she explained to them.  “We’re the ones that have to kill Dracula, otherwise the mission won’t be a success and we’ll probably get stuck here for the rest of our lives.”

“Understood, we’ll make sure those people stay off you,” promised Russell.

“I’m not going to kill these people,” stated Samuel.  “My oath is to preserve law and order.  No matter what their crimes, these people are still innocent.  They have been forced against their will into servitude.”

“Then stay out of our way and let us do the work,” suggested Russell before nodding again to the members of his pack.

As one, the pack attacked any of the thralls that got near them.  They had lived together and hunted together for a long time and it didn’t matter if they were in wolf form or not.  They were still savage fighters and they proved that as they clawed, bit, and did everything they could to incapacitate and even kill the thralls.

“Is this the kind of life you lead now?” inquired Samuel as he noticed that Rahne wasn’t joining in the frenzy like the others.  “You are the daughter of a minister, Rahne, and you would condone this savagery?”

“I don’t know what I am anymore,” she confessed, unable to turn her eyes away from what was going on.

“This is too easy,” realized Sandman as he watched the pack of werewolves clear the path for them.  “Something is going to screw up any minute now.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a pessimist?” inquired Songbird, both of them leading the Exiles towards the lower levels of the castle where they assumed the vampires slept.  “These things don’t come out until the sun sets and that’s long enough for us to get everything wrapped up.  How can this mission possibly go wrong?”

“If you had been with us from the start then you would know not to ask that question,” answered Sandman.  “Molly, can you get that door for us?”

“Right, because that’s all I’m good for,” cracked the youngest member of the Exiles before shattering the heavy wood and iron door with one mighty punch.  “There, whatever, it’s open.”

Sandman looked at the row of coffins and took a moment to figure out his next move.  They didn’t bring any stakes or anything like that so stabbing the vampires was out of the question.  The only weapon they had available to them was the sunlight but there were no windows in the basement, for obvious reasons.  If they couldn’t get the sunlight to come to the vampires then Sandman reasoned they would take the vampires into the sunlight.

“Osborn, you and Molly help me with bringing these coffins upstairs,” he ordered the two Exiles with super strength.  “We’ll get the windows open after that.”

Goblin and Bruiser nodded and helped Sandman pick up the coffins.  The Exiles moved back upstairs and found the first empty room big enough to contain everything.  Sandman put down the coffins he was carrying and moved to the heavy slabs of iron that covered the windows in the room.  He squeezed his sandy fingers through their cracks and an explosive burst of sand forced the metal shutters apart, letting the sunlight into the room.  Goblin and Bruiser set down their cargo right in front of the uncovered windows.

“You’re sure we have to do this?” asked Songbird.

“Our mission is to kill Dracula but I’d rather take out the rest of them too,” admitted Sandman.  “If we let one of these things live then there’s the chance that they could come back with more of them and start this all over again.  Trust me, this is the only way.”

Melissa nodded, knowing that the vampires were already dead.  They weren’t human beings anymore, just animals that were only interested in killing innocent people to survive.  She knew it made sense to get rid of them and spare the lives of those living in the village but it still didn’t sit completely well with her.  It had been a long time since she had forsaken her villainous ways, a long time since she had thought about taking someone’s life.  It wasn’t an easy choice to allow that to happen.

Sandman nodded to Goblin and Bruiser.  The two Exiles ripped open the coffins and let the sunlight stream onto the unprotected bodies of the vampires.  The vampires began to scream in pain and thrash for their lives but it was no use.  The coffins that were used as their beds became their final resting places as the sunlight burned their bodies until nothing but ash remained.

“Dracula’s not in any of these,” realized Bruiser.  “Maybe he sleeps somewhere else.”

“Mission’s not done until we kill him,” said Sandman.  “Spread out and try to find his coffin.  When you find it, come get one of us with super strength so we can drag it in here.”

There were various signs of agreement from the Exiles before they all spread out and began the hunt for the coffin that contained the Lord of the Vampires.  None of the Exiles noticed that Rahne and Samuel entered the room once they left.  Samuel had his weapon drawn and cautiously approached the coffins, knowing that they were empty but still ready for any surprises.

“Dracula’s brides are no more,” realized Rahne.  “Where are the strangers who have liberated our village from their curse?”

“They search for Dracula’s coffin,” said Samuel.  “Whatever mission brought them here, they haven’t completed it yet.”

Rahne looked at the piles of dust that occupied the coffins and felt the dark cloud over her soul lighten just a little bit.  She wished that her best friend Illyana was alive to witness this wonderful sight.  Without the vampires to harass them, the people of her village could finally live in peace.  Perhaps she didn’t have to leave with Russell and his pack after all.  Maybe she could find a way to stay in her home.  Perhaps her father could show some small amount of mercy and forgive his daughter for the terrible curse she had brought upon herself.

“I have never seen a more beautiful sight than this,” she said to herself as she gazed at the empty coffins.

“The things in those coffins aren’t the only monsters in our midst, Rahne,” reminded Samuel.  “Have you forgotten what you’ve become?”

“I am not like those other wolves out there,” she corrected him.  “Please, Constable, you know me.  You and my father have always been good friends and I have always been quite fond of you.  Will you please talk to my father on my behalf if I choose to stay in the village? He’ll listen to your counsel as he always has.”

“I am quite fond of you too, Rahne,” admitted Samuel.  “Look down at those animals now though.  Look at what they’re doing to the people out there.”

Rahne looked and understood what Samuel meant.  Now that the ones who had bitten them were gone, the thralls were reverting back to the people they once were.  Unfortunately, the members of Russell’s pack made no such distinction.  They continued their savagery without pause, showing themselves as the true animals that they were.  Rahne realized that there was no hope of going back to the village and resuming her old life.  Even with the vampires gone, she was still a monster like the werewolves below.  It didn’t matter what skin she wore, she was still cursed to live a hideous and lonely existence.

“Where are they?” asked Russell as he entered the room.  “Where are the vamps?”

“Those strangers have already slain all but Dracula,” confirmed Samuel.  “Do you know what that means, Russell?  It means you have no more excuse to murder them.”

Without warning, Samuel drew his firearm and squeezed the trigger.  Rahne saw what was going on and she threw herself towards Samuel, pushing him to the floor and causing him to miss his intended target.  He looked at her and could see that it was instinct that guided her actions.  She wasn’t to blame for what she had just done.  It was Russell and all those of his kind who had poisoned her mind and corrupted her body.  Samuel promised that he would save her though.  He swore to her that he would protect her and now it was time to honor that oath.

“It is not right for you to kill him,” pleaded Rahne.  “You are a better man than this.”

“He’s not going to listen to you,” stated Russell as Samuel threw Rahne off of him and got back to his feet, reloading his weapon for another shot.  “You just admonished us for killing innocent people but in our eyes you’re no different than we are.  We’re all animals here, Constable.”

“If you wish to behave like an animal then I will put you down like one,” promised Samuel as Russell leapt towards him.  This time, his aim was true and he put the silver bullet right between Russell’s eyes.

“The other members of the pack will come for you,” warned Rahne.

“I’m aware of that,” stated Samuel as he rolled up his sleeve and unclipped the gauntlet he wore that looked suspiciously like a Tallus.  “I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you, Rahne.  Like the strangers who have liberated us from Dracula and his ilk, I was also sent here with a mission.”

“I don’t understand,” said Rahne, the confusion evident in her voice.

Samuel knew he didn’t have much time.  Once he set the device, he was going to have to move quickly if he wanted to make it out of this reality before it collapsed.  A spike of metal shot out of the bottom of the gauntlet, sticking into the floor and holding it in place while Samuel armed it.  On the knuckles of the gauntlet, there were four lights that were all dark for the moment.  Samuel typed some commands on the gauntlet’s keypad and the lights flashed on for a brief moment.  That meant the bomb was armed and all it took was a single keystroke to initiate the countdown sequence.  Samuel punched the button and watched the lights cycle on and off before the first one in the row lit up permanently.

“This is Inquisitor Samuel Guthrie,” said Samuel into a microscopic radio that he wore in his ear.  “I have armed my retcon bomb and need evacuation for myself and one additional passenger.”

“Copy that, Inquisitor,” said the voice on the other end.  “Minister Stein will personally be providing your evacuation portal in a few seconds.”

A glowing portal of energy appeared in the room and Samuel Guthrie knew it was his ticket back home to the headquarters of The Order.  He took Rahne Sinclair’s wrist and dashed towards the portal even as the second light on the bomb lit up.

“Where are we going?” asked Rahne.  “Where are you taking me?”

“To a place where you can live in peace with me and with the monster inside you,” explained Samuel.  “I love you, Rahne, and I promised to protect you.  Please allow me to keep that promise.”

“What the hell is going on here?” asked Sandman as he and the Exiles entered the room and saw what was happening.

“We need to go,” said Samuel as he pushed Rahne towards the portal.  “I will be right behind you, Rahne.  I promise.”

Rahne Sinclair took a very deep breath and held it as she fell into the portal that would take her to a different reality.  Samuel Guthrie turned back and looked at the Exiles, smiling at the idea that they had no clue what was going on.  The Reverend was right when he said that The Order would eventually cross paths with other travelers.  It was only through the divine wisdom of God that The Reverend had made sure Samuel and the other inquisitors had the tools necessary to fight against those travelers.

“There shall be only one reality and it shall be called Paradise,” stated Samuel as he recited the words of the prophecy.  “You will not live to see the glory of such a place.  I condemn you Exiles in the name of The Order.  May God have mercy on your eternal souls.”

With that, Samuel Guthrie leapt through the portal and it winked out of existence.  Sandman saw the gauntlet in the middle of the room as the third light lit up.  He noticed immediately that it looked almost exactly like the Tallus he wore and it made him wonder what new threat he and his team were up against.  Whatever the case, he knew that gauntlet was bad news and he needed to destroy it.  To that end, he raced towards the gauntlet that in actuality was a bomb.

“I don’t understand,” said Goblin even as the other Exiles moved towards the device with him.  “Where did that portal come from and what is this thing?”

“I think this is a bomb,” explained Sandman before he stopped dead in his tracks and listened to something.  “The Tallus . . . it says ‘mission aborted’.  It’s never said that before.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Wasp even as the Exiles began to turn to sand and teleport out of the reality.  “Where are we going if we didn’t finish the mission here?”

None of the Exiles could answer her question.  They disappeared from that reality only seconds before the fourth and final light on the bomb lit up.  The gauntlet began to glow with temporal energy before finally exploding into a million pieces.  The energy radiated out of the explosion, rippling across the entire fabric of that reality.  Whatever energy was contained in the bomb, it ripped through that fabric and caused the entire reality to break down until there was nothing left.

The Axis

“What the hell was that?”

John looked at his team of Exiles and was noticeably upset.  He hadn’t foreseen this when he sent the Exiles into that reality.  It was supposed to be a simple mission, something he knew they could accomplish without fail.  He hadn’t counted on this happening though.  He didn’t even know what this was, didn’t even have a clue as to what that device did or who Constable Samuel really was and who he worked for.  He was completely in the dark and it angered him.

“I don’t know,” he answered simply.  “I have no idea.”

“You have no idea?” asked Sandman angrily as he glared at John.  “You told us that you weren’t like Jules.  You said things would be different but they’re not.  You people are still keeping secrets from us even after we saved your sorry asses.”

“If there’s a secret being kept then it’s being kept from me too,” shot back John.  “Look, that’s not the important thing right now.  I need to have a talk with the records department because if what I think happened actually happened then these people are dangerous.  I’m getting Lorus up here to confirm it.”

“It’s bad, John,” stated Lorus as she came into the room and adjusted her glasses before looking at some papers in her hands.  “It’s gone.”

“What’s gone?” asked Sandman before anyone else could.

“The whole reality is gone,” explained Lorus.  “Earth-4 doesn’t exist anymore.  We can’t find it, not even a trace of it.  That device was like a bomb and the temporal energy it unleashed erased the entire reality.  It doesn’t exist anymore.  It’s gone.”

“All those people,” gasped Wasp in horror.  “They’re all dead.”

“Except for Rahne,” reminded Goblin.  “We saw Samuel shove her into that portal.  There’s a chance she’s the only survivor.”

“Whoever these people are, they’re using some sort of technology that cloaks them from our sensors,” realized John.  “You couldn’t even tell he was out of place, could you?”

“No,” admitted Lorus sadly, a hint of bitterness in her voice because she was a perfectionist when it came to her job.  “It was like he actually belonged there, like he had always belonged there.  These people are a serious threat, John, and we . . . we can’t see them coming.”

“He said something about there being only one reality,” mentioned Sandman.  “He said it would be called Paradise.”

“That’s what Jules said before he died,” said John.  “I’m going to The Council and I’m going to find out if they know what’s going on.  I’m not going to send you into another mission until I get some answers, you have my word on that.  All I ask is that you wait and trust me.”

“I am finding that hard,” noted Whiplash.  “Forgive my rudeness but I do not know you.”

“He’s okay,” assured Sandman, realizing that Whiplash and Songbird hadn’t been brought up to speed yet.  “This is our Timebroker, the one who calls the shots and gives us the missions.  His name is John and I’ll vouch for him.  Get us some answers though or things are going to get really ugly.”

“Trust me, I feel the same way,” agreed John as he moved to leave the room.  He wasn’t going to be happy until he discovered what The Council knew about this, if they knew anything at all.

“All those times a reality collapsed,” muttered Lorus to herself.  “Gods above, I had no idea someone was making it happen.  I thought it was just a fluke, an influx of temporal energy or something.  None of us really know how the continuum works and I’m just a glorified file clerk anyways.  I knew something was weird though.  I knew something wasn’t right and I didn’t say anything about it.”

“Everybody makes mistakes,” offered Wasp.

“Not like that they don’t,” countered Lorus.  “I’m the best out of my entire division and I still couldn’t save untold number of people that were murdered by whatever that thing was.  It’s a recorder’s duty to always keep their eyes open, to observe and report.  I observed but I didn’t report and it got a lot of people killed.”

“We’ve got a bigger problem now,” said Sandman.  “If these people can fly under the Timebrokers’ radar then how the hell are we going to stop them from doing this again?”

The Council’s Chambers

“I want some answers.”

John looked at the members of The Council, all of them sitting in their seats that were high above the chamber’s floor where he stood. When John first arrived in the Axis, The Council looked like gods to him.  They sat on their thrones that towered above the other members of their race and their words were absolute law.  Yet as he spent more time in the Axis, John came to know The Council on a more personal level. They entrusted him with some of their secrets but apparently there were some that they kept only to themselves.

“I am afraid we have none to give you, John,” said Benrus, the leader of The Council.  “We are diligently working to ascertain the nature of this new threat.  Councilman Oris, you preside over our record-keeping.  Tell us now if there has been any record of such things before.”

“None, sir,” spoke up the elderly Timebroker who had cast the final vote that sent Jules into exile so long ago.  “As John can attest to, I had Lorus on this case as soon as we were aware of a problem.  She is my best and brightest recorder with a history showing nothing but exemplary performance, but she could find no trace in our files of Earth-4.  It’s as if these people wiped it from the face of creation.”

“Councilwoman Raketa, as head of our peacekeeping forces how should we proceed then?” asked Benrus.

“As everyone knows, we are a peaceful society,” said Raketa, the only female member of The Council.  “We have neither the real means nor the real desire to make war but we must defend ourselves when called upon.  I will have to confer with my colleague Councilman Corum on how to proceed.”

“I will have my scientists working on some new technology to combat this threat,” promised Corum, the Councilman who ruled over all matters regarding science and technology.  “Until then, we cannot do anything other than what we’ve always done.  Our mission doesn’t stop because of an isolated incident.”

“The incident wasn’t isolated,” said John.  “All of you were there when Jules spoke his last words.  He spoke of a prophecy, the same prophecy uttered by this ‘inquisitor’.  We are dealing with religious fanatics and they shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

“We will have further discussion amongst ourselves and notify you of our findings,” stated Benrus.  “Until such time, you are to continue with the mandate we have set for all Timebrokers who handle our field agents.  As Councilman Corum said, we cannot shut down this entire operation because of this incident.  There is still too much work to be done.”

John noticed that one member of The Council didn’t speak.  Councilman Doxa was always the most thoughtful of the five.  It was this sensitivity that made him the perfect choice to preside over all things involving art, culture, and religion.  Truthfully, John saw the position as nothing more than a way for the rest of The Council to give Doxa something to do so he wouldn’t be wandering around aimlessly with his head in the clouds, as he was prone to do.  John understood how sensitivity and caring could be mistaken for shyness and timidity.  Jules often accused him of displaying the same traits but John knew the truth.  Compassion wasn’t a weakness but rather a strength.

“I thank you for your wisdom, members of The Council,” said John courteously.  “I will continue to perform my duties to the best of my ability and I will await your rulings on this matter.  Thank you for your time.”

“Your voice is always a welcome one in this chamber, John,” noted Benrus.  “We will let you know our ruling in due time.”

The Cathedral

Rahne Sinclair blearily opened her eyes.  The journey hadn’t been an easy one and it had left her unconscious when she arrived.  She tried to get up and that was when she noticed that she was clamped to the chair she was resting in.  The panic began to swell inside her as she struggled against the clamps.

“Where is Samuel?” she asked frantically.  “Let me see him.”

“You will see him when you learn the truth,” said a man as he stood at a console that was out of Rahne’s line of sight.  “Do please try to control yourself, child.  Your panic is making me quite . . . hungry.”

“Who are you?” demanded Rahne as she tried harder to break away from the chair.  “Why can’t I get up?”

“You have not yet experienced the light and the truth,” said the man as he punched a button on the console.  “As to who I am, my name is Ebenezer Laughton but I have a different name here.  They call me Brother Crow and I am here to educate you.”

Panels of metal flipped up from the chair’s headrest and kept Rahne’s head still where she couldn’t turn it to either side.  The panels pressed right up against her ears where the speakers inside those panels could do their work.  At the same time, a television screen on the ceiling came to life even as the chair Rahne sat in reclined all the way so that the only thing she could see was the screen.

“Stop,” she pleaded as she tried even harder to escape.  “Please, just stop.”

“A little something to calm your nerves, my dear,” promised Brother Crow as he slid the tip of the syringe into her neck and pumped her full of a special chemical that would help break her will.

The chemical was a fast-acting hypnotic drug that would disable her higher brain functions and leave her very compliant.  Even after only a few seconds, Rahne could feel it working its magic.  Everything began to feel very hazy and her muscles were so loose and heavy.  Her eyes blinked rapidly as she tried to fight against sleep.  Rahne mumbled something incoherently as she tried to resist drifting into the warm, happy place the drug was creating for her.  She just wanted to go to sleep, just wanted to close her eyes and not worry about anything.

“So tired,” she murmured.

“You need to keep your eyes open and watch that screen, child,” ordered Brother Crow.

That made so much sense to Rahne.  She could feel the heaviness in her eyes lifting.  She just let her lazy eyes focus on the screen and the images it began to display.  Voices were filtering through the speakers into her ears and they were passing right into her warm, sleepy mind. Brother Crow smiled as he watched his conditioning process begin to mold the young girl’s mind to The Order’s wishes, just as it had done to so many others in the past.

“Once again, you serve The Order well, Samuel,” said Reverend Stryker, looking across his desk to see his prize inquisitor sitting in front of him.  “I trust that all the information on that earth is in this file?”

“Of course, Reverend,” replied Samuel Guthrie.  “As always, I took very careful notes on everything I observed during my travels.  As we assumed, that world was not fit to be called Paradise.  Our search will have to continue.”

“Yes, it will,” agreed the Reverend.  “I noticed that you saved a lost soul this time, Brother Samuel.  May I ask what your motivations for this were?”

“I think she will serve our cause well, Reverend,” explained Samuel.  “On a personal note, I’m a bit taken with her.  It’s my hope that if she becomes an inquisitor I might be allowed to train her and guide her.”

“If God calls her to that vocation then I see no reason why you can’t train her,” decided the Reverend.  “You’re one of the brightest inquisitors we have, Samuel.  I can’t think of a better teacher for her than you.”

“I only do as God calls me to do,” reminded Samuel.  “Will you send me back into the field then, Reverend, or should I remain here?”

“You’ll remain here for now until the girl’s education is complete,” decided the Reverend.  “I’m very interested in these Exiles you encountered.  I hadn’t expected to cross paths with them so soon but God does work in mysterious ways.  I have prided myself on being able to, for the most part, stay away from the Timebrokers and their agents but I fear the time for lurking in the shadows may soon pass.  Make sure the rest of the inquisitors know of these Exiles and the rest of the Timebrokers’ agents so they aren’t caught unaware.  Aside from that, take some time to yourself.  I will notify you of your next assignment when it becomes available.”

“I understand, Reverend,” said Samuel before getting up and leaving the office.

Reverend William Stryker looked at the watch that was sitting on his desk.  It was the same Tallus that Eterna had given him so long ago when she chose him to be the leader of her team.  Neither of them could’ve known back then how things would turn out.  He kept it now as a reminder of the moment that forever changed his life and the woman who was a part of it.  Stryker sighed deeply, the sigh of a man who had a heavy burden of responsibility on his shoulders.  He opened a drawer on his desk and pulled out a very old, very worn book.  It looked like a copy of the Bible but the words inside it were very, very different.  This was his bible, every word spoken to him by God and scribbled down in his own handwriting.  It was the bible he based the entire principles of The Order around, the one that first spoke of the prophecy that God wanted him to fulfill.

“You wanted to see me,” said Machine Man as he entered the office.

Stryker’s hand stayed on the cover of the book even as he looked up to see the barely-human cyborg standing in front of him.  Machine Man was easily the most unsettling member of his flock, if for no other reason than the fact that he couldn’t be properly educated.  With a devious mind like his running free, Stein was perhaps the only person who could stop what Stryker was trying to set in motion.

“Do you think it would be possible to build machines that would shield their users from the effects of a retcon bomb?” asked Stryker.

“I would need the right power source,” confirmed Machine Man.  “It would have to be attuned somehow to the same dimensional frequency as the particular retcon bomb you’re using.  The device could send out a carrier wave that would be in synch with the energies from the retcon bomb and mask its user.

“What if I were to offer you an actual Timebroker to use as the battery for both the bomb and the shield?” inquired Stryker.  “Would that work?”

“If you don’t give a damn about that Timebroker living through it, sure,” answered Stein.  “Exactly what are you planning?  I can see that your brain is cranking out some very heavy electrical activity.  Those firing synapses must’ve come up with something epic.”

“I’ll produce this Timebroker for you provided you make sure everything works,” promised Stryker.  “You know we’ve had to scrap a good number of retcon bombs due to the quality of their performance.”

“Because you won’t supply enough juice to power them,” reminded Stein.  “I can make you the perfect machine but if you don’t have a power source that lasts long then it’s no good.  Tell me this then: will I like this plan that you’ve got?”

“It’s not my plan but rather God’s plan,” corrected Stryker.  “I think you’ll enjoy it, Minister Stein.”

“I rather like that title,” decided Machine Man.  “It’s funny to think my father said I would never amount to anything in life.”

Next Issue: Under The Banner of Heaven.