29(S3E3)- The Axis

29

(Season 3, Episode 3)

The Axis

2 Days before the Instant

Scott was having a hard time understanding what was going on.  Through the course of five minutes, all of his worst nightmares had seemed to come true.  Had someone slipped him an Ambien?  Was this all some kind of fever dream he could not wake up from?

He had walked in on his best friend, of nearly twenty years, trying to kill himself on his 28^th birthday.  Only seconds later, a midget (was that the politically correct term?  He couldn’t remember) and an Irishman covered in tattoos, holding some kind of musket, had tried to do the job for Zachariah.  Then, bugs flew out of his best friend’s skin and formed something almost human.

Scott knew that he had a reputation to be kind of dense at times.  He did not agree with this branding but for the first time, he did truly feel dense.  In his defense, he put it to anyone at all to not be confused in the current situation.

“No, we are too late.”  Mel muttered under his breath.

Its form constantly shifted and moved because the bugs that made up the being could not stand still.  It was as if the bugs were doing some kind of person impersonation.  Scott felt itchy.  It was an itchiness that spread throughout his entire body.  His insides turned and he felt physically ill.

It turned its head towards them and seemed to speak.  No mouth moved, though.  Scott just heard the words in his head as if the monster was opening his brain and putting them there.  “The first of the four is free.  In forty eight hours, death will come to everyone!”

“With the arrival of Plague, the Dahaka has now been summoned.  I have to prepare the spell.  It will take time.”  Mel clasped his hands together.  “Deal with Plague.”

“Deal with plague?”  Bevan called back.  “That’s a bloody horseman of the apocalypse!  How would you like me to deal with it?”

“Zachariah has minutes before the Dahaka finds him and I need all of them to set the spell!”  Mel called back, then began chanting.

Scott stared, dumbfounded.  “You guys are here to help Zachariah?”

Bevan shrugged.  “More or less.”

Bevan raised the old-style pistol and it glowed in his hand for a second.  It was a bright white light before suddenly, a blast of what seemed to be pure energy burst forth from the end.  The blast struck the front of the creature and washed over him like liquid.  It screamed in pain and fell backwards.  Burned husks of the red beetles fell to the ground in its wake.

Bevan smiled.  “How about that, we can hurt the damn thing.  That is a good sign, eh?”

Scott stared, confused.  “Yes?”

“You dare?!”  The creature mentally screamed before its body burst into a million of the bugs, swarming throughout the room before sucking back together into the human form in front of the tattoo-covered gunman.  It snapped out its hand to grab his face but instead of a hand the bugs seemed to swarm the man’s face and head until his features where no longer visible.

Bevan began to struggle and back up but the monster stayed on him, following him backwards into the kitchen, draining the life from him.

Kitchen.

Scott’s battered and confused brain finally began to break through the shock and confusion of the things happening around him and somewhat rational thought returned.  The first thought Scott understood was that there was something about the kitchen he needed to remember.

Scott’s eyes went to the pulled out stove and the broken gas pipe that Zachariah had been using to attempt to kill himself.  It was still letting out a steady stream of natural gas into the small kitchen.

Scott, a Cub, Boy then Eagle Scout through adolescence and young adulthood, had three things he never left home without:

1 – A knife

2 – Duct Tape

3 – A Zippo lighter (even though he rarely smoked)

All three of these things had been mocked by his unconscious self-destructive friend on the floor at one time or another.  He only wished Zachariah had been awake and fully aware for what he was about to do.  He also hoped that he was right and that the open door had vented the rest of the apartment enough or none of them would be alive to tell him it was a bad idea.

He pulled the Zippo from his pocket snapped open the lid and struck the flint.  It lit up and he tossed it forward into the stream of gas.  It lit, almost instantly, and the pipe became a flame thrower.  The white hot fire washed over the bug creature standing in front of it and the monster screamed.

The scream reverberated in Scott’s head and almost made him wish he hadn’t done anything.  The smell of burning garbage filled the room as burning beetles went in all directions as the creature burst again.

This time it did not re-form, at least not right away.  Instead, the thousands of bugs seemed to just fly around confused, as if stunned by the attack.

Scott had no time to revel in his apparent success.  He turned back to the midget and Zachariah and the ninjas seemed to appear out of thin air.  One grabbed him and spoke three words he did not understand and then….

…Smoke?

****

10 Years after the Instant

The Amulet stopped working ten feet from the ground but the killer was ready.  He landed and rolled without problems.  He came up, his hand on his blade as he stood in the Canadian wilderness on the chill fall morning.

“Did you get it?”  The voice was deep and guttural.  It came from the forest, just ahead of the killer.

The killer relaxed his hand but never took it from the blade.  Though they had come he did not, and would not trust them.  “Of course.”

The voice stepped into the morning sunlight.  He was tall and wide, standing almost seven feet tall and he had muscles on his muscles.  He wore leather pants and a leather biker’s vest with no shirt, even though it was only forty degrees.  He had red complexion and mohawked black hair that denoted his Native American heritage.

The killer knew him as Dire Wolf, the head of the werewolves and the Axis.

The Axis were the dark side of the magical world.  The races that had been exiled from Avalon and the enemies of those in the floating castle.  The killer did not trust them but he knew he could not undertake his mission alone.  Not any longer.

“I think the better question,” a voice spoke.  “Is can he make good on his promises?”  A small dwarf-like man walked out of the trees to the killer’s right.  He was dressed head-to-toe in a green suit and had almost bleach blonde hair and a beard.  He was called Big Green and he was the leprechaun king.

The killer gave him a hard eye.  “My word is all I have left.”

“Come now, Greeny.  Scott always comes through on his promises.”  To the killer’s left, from the trees stepped a woman.  She was in a complicated outfit that you would only see in a gothic club.  She had at least ten necklaces of different sizes and shapes around her neck and at least the same number of bracelets around each wrist and two rings on each finger.  Her hair was done in long braids from all sides and she wore too much make-up.  She was a witch and her name was Leesa.

The killer frowned.  “Don’t call me that.”

The witch grinned at the killer.  The look reminded him of a cat watching a caged bird.  “Aw come on, sweetie.  I thought we were on a first name basis.  After all, my Feather Fall amulet worked, didn’t it?”

The killer ignored her and looked back to Dire Wolf.  “We don’t have much time.  I had to kill Mel on my way out.  Kahn and the ninja will be coming.”

“You killed Mel?  The council member?  Master Nex?  I do not believe it.”  Big Green scoffed at him.

The killer bowed his head slightly.  “I had no choice.  It was the only way.”

Leesa ran over and leapt on him, kissing him hard on the mouth.  The killer shoved her off of him then gave her a hard, forceful backhand to the face and she staggered.  “Never touch me!”

Leesa turned back and smiled.  “Oh, baby…  How did you now I like it rough?”

“Enough, Leesa.”  Big Green scowled at the show.  “Must you continue to be a walking cliché whore?”

Leesa snorted at him. “Aw, is the little guy jealous?  Sorry Greeny, I like full sized men.”

Big Green’s face contorted into rage.  “Why, you insufferable-”

Dire Wolf cut them off.  “Enough!”

His shout silenced them both, the tower of a man walked to The Killer.  “Mel deserved to die, just like the rest of them.  You have proven yourself to be one of us.  We will uphold our side of the bargain.  We will take you to the spiral and the door to Time.  Let the traitorous Kahn and her ninjas come.  We do not fear them.”

The killer nodded.  “Good, then I will do what I promised.  Avalon will fall.”

Heavy stuff!  Has the Future Scott really sided with the bad guys to bring down the floating city?  What happened to make him this way?  Will Scott use all three of his favorite ‘be prepared’ items for the first time ever?

Find out next time on…

Stranger Things!

TO BE CONTINUED!

28(S3E2)- Things Get Bad

28
(Season 3, Episode 2)
Things Get Bad

2 days before the instant

“What the fuck are you doing?”  The rage was obvious in Scott’s voice.  Even if it wasn’t, he reserved his swear words for proper times since he never really sounded right saying.

“Well, this is awkward.”  Zach muttered slowly, pulling himself to his feet.

“What the hell, Zach?  I know you were depressed, but trying to gas yourself on your birthday?” Scott was flabbergasted at his best friend since fifth grade.  God love the guy, he had never considered this as an option for Zach.  He was hurt, confused and disappointed.

The disappointment would be in himself.  He would blame himself for not seeing the signs, not getting to his friend earlier.  Zach hated that about him.  To Scott, when things went wrong it was always his fault, always his responsibility to save the day.

Zachariah internally groaned… Heroes.

Zachariah was saved the conversation however as destiny seemed to have more for him then drifting off into the sweet blackness that would be death.  Mel stepped into the open doorway behind Scott.  He was accompanied by a man that Zachariah had never met.  The man wore a long, brown trench coat and had long, jet-black hair which was restrained in a loose ponytail.  He was young, in his twenties, and he held a strange gun in his right hand.  It bared resemblance to an old-timey musket pistol, but it was longer and had strange red markings all over its barrel and stock.

Zachariah looked confused as they laid eyes on him.  Scott turned and saw the two, as well, and looked just as befuddled.  Zachariah felt the hand of panic wash over him as he realized his real life was colliding with his magical one.

The panic also stemmed from a knowledge that whenever the dwarf spell-caster showed up in his life, bad things happened.  Mel only heralded heartache and pain.

“Bevan, do it now!”  Mel yelled and the gun wielder stepped into the room and raised the gun at Zachariah.

Zachariah could only stand there bewildered as the barrel raised to look him in the eye.  Scott, on the other hand, was a warrior.  His instincts kicked in and he moved, stepping in with a quick snap kick to the man called Bevan’s gun hand.  The blow struck his wrist and sent his gun spinning into the living room.

“Hey!” Bevan said, frustrated.  He had no idea that the factory worker/martial artist was far from done as Scott used the momentum of the first kick to step in on the intruder and spin into him, driving his foot up into the man’s chest with an Earth shattering kick.

Bevan was launched backward as if rocket propelled, through the air over Mel’s head and into the hallway.

Scott got into fighting stance, preparing for the next attack.  No amount of preparation could have readied him for the small Nex to utter a couple of words that sounded like gibberish before a bolt of light arced from his hand and into Scott’s torso.  The energized attack sent him backward into the drywall, his body denting it before he dropped to the floor.

Anyone else would have passed out.  Scott did not.  This was not a testament to his skill or endurance, but more a show of how damned stubborn he was.  He tried to will his body parts to move, but they were not having it.

“Jesus Christ, stop!”  Zachariah yelled.

Mel turned.  “Who the hell is this guy?!”

“He’s my friend, Scott!  What the hell are you doing?!” Zachariah pleaded, angrily itching at his bite covered arm.

Mel looked indignant as his partner picked himself up in the hallway.  “Well, he attacked us first!”

“You guys were trying to shoot me.”  Zachariah rebutted.

This seemed to jog Mel’s memory.  “Oh shit, that’s right.  Bevan!”

Bevan had pulled himself together and moved through the doorway into the hallway after his gun.

Zachariah scratched harder. “What the hell are you doing?”

Suddenly, Mel’s face lost all color.  “Oh God, it’s too late.”

Zachariah followed Mel’s eyes and looked down at his arm.  A small red beetle seemed to pull itself out of the itchy bump on his arm and Zachariah felt himself wretch.  The itching grew worse and worse all over his body and he watched himself in horror as another small bed bug pulled itself free of his skin. Strangely, there was no blood as the phenomenon continued to pick up pace.  Bug after bug pulled themselves out of Zachariah’s flesh.

The sensation of itching had become overwhelming, almost numbing.  It was as if his whole body was consumed in a white hot fire.  It lasted for what felt like an eternity before stopping as quickly as it had begun.  He felt himself slip into unconscious, but as he did, the last thing he saw seemed to be the bugs swarming into the middle of the room and seemingly becoming a man.

10 years after the instant

The killer shook off his daze and grabbed the key.  He knew they would be coming.

The ninja.

Mel had made them his personal guard after the death of his father, bringing them back to Avalon.  The community had been skeptical at this decision, but Mel was an important member of the council and no one wanted to argue with his decree.

It had all worked to the killer’s advantage.  By that time he had already been one of the ninja for two years, having learned both their magic and their secrets.  They had become his friends, some more than others, but in the end it had all just been a means to an end.

He had to keep telling himself that, it was the only way to justify his betrayal to the clan, to his family, and to her.

He placed the key into his long black trench coat and then pulled the black mask back over his scarred face.  The killer then moved out of Mel’s room and into the hallways that laced the giant castle city.  He needed to get to one of the edges, he had prepared for his exit.

“Stop!” He heard as he wheeled to see two ninja appear out of the shadows and charge.

More bodies, more death.  The killer hated himself already.

As the two approached, he drew his sword with one quick motion and stepped forward with a quick and precise cut.  A string of blood hovered in the air for a moment before the ninja’s body lurched and fell forward, crashing to the floor.

The other ninja stopped in his tracks, eyes wide, only now realizing what he was up against. “It’s you…  The traitor!”

The ninja stood for a second in shock and looked at his past-tense friend who now lay on the floor, a pool of his black blood forming under him.

The killer turned and ran.  He flicked the blood from his blade and sheathed it in one step as he, again, took off in the direction of the castles edge.  That ninja would return and he would bring friends...

…He would bring her.

He hit the stairs and ascended at high speed.  He could almost feel the others giving chase.  They would use their ninja magic to come fast.  He only had seconds.

He slammed into the trap door and it popped open.  He was on the outer wall of the floating city of magic.  The killer moved to the edge and could see the clouds below him.  In the distance, the sun was beginning to rise and was spreading its orange hue over everything.

Young light.  It was new and full of hope.  The killer, for a second, remembered his lost family, and his alienated friends.  Could he ever really get back there?

“That’s enough, Scott.”  Her voice was soft but stern and full of intent.  The killer had always her voice was what a coiled snake would sound like if it could talk.

“Not yet.”  He said without turning to face her.  He didn’t need to.  After all, it was she who had trained him in the arts of Ninjitsu and taught him to sense his enemies, which is why he already knew that there were seven of them; seven and Kahn.

Kahn, the coiled snake.  Kahn, the fierce protector.  Kahn, the only friend.  Kahn, the worst enemy.

“You have killed so many of us, how much blood must be spilled?”  She asked as she looked for an opening.  Her dutiful soldiers began to flank the killer, thinking he had nowhere left to go.

They were wrong.  “All of it…  And none of it.”

The killer leapt over the side of the castle making himself as thin as he could as he went for the clouds. Kahn stepped to the edge and hurled stars, which cut the air.  One caught the killer in the back of the shoulder.  He gritted his teeth and hit the cloud coverage.

Safety, at least from his pursuers.  The wind raced past him as he approached terminal velocity.  He broke the cloud coverage and, miles below, he saw the Canadian wilderness where it had all started.  He reached into his coat and grabbed the feather-fall amulet that he had taken from the rogue Nex known as Quintalo.

He invoked the amulet’s powers by opening his palm with the edge of his sword and touching his blood to the artifact.  A light glowed and he began to float, as if he weighed no more than a blade of grass.  He floated in that moment of peace and watched the sun finish rising.  He watched the light age in front of him and knew they would never be the same.

The point of no return had been passed long ago.  The real question, the killer asked himself, was if he ever really had a choice.

****

Kahn felt a deep sadness when she returned to the office.  Mel had been her friend for many years and the reason her clan had been allowed to return to Avalon.  Now he was dead, extinguished by a mind filled with madness.

Kahn walked to his old friend and closed his eyelids.  “Nokori.”

She then looked at the open wall and the bare pedestal.  “The key.”

“What was in there?”  One of her lieutenants asked from behind her.

“Doomsday.”  She answered, emotionlessly.  “Gather the clan, the killer will be brought to justice.”

This is just downright depressing!  How will Zach and Scott deal with the bed bug monster that came out of him?  Are Mel and his partner actually there to kill Zachariah?  What is future Scott’s deal?!

NEXT TIME!

Stranger Things; Zachariah’s Death

TO BE CONTINUED!

27(S3E1)-The False End is The Begining

27

(Season 3, Episode 1)

The False End is The Beginning.

The Instant

Two days ago he had just been taking a quick trip to make sure his buddy was okay.  Two days ago the world Scott knew had been a normal one, filled with taxes, death and everything normal and happy and mundane in the middle.

As he took the kick to the abs from the literal embodiment of the Horseman of War, he couldn’t help but remember how nice that had been.  Scott sailed across the stone floor of the temple before crashing back to earth, coughing, barely able to maintain consciousness.  He had lost track of the ribs that had been broken inside his very normal mid-section by the very abnormal demon-like creature that had crawled from his friend’s chest a half hour before.

Scott turned and found the screams of the countless ninjas being torn to shreds behind him by the swarms of man-eating bugs that made up the Horsemen of Pestilence.  He turned and saw the Celtic warrior covered in tattoos using his spirit gun to take shots at the thin, withered specter that was Famine.

He then turned and saw his friend, Zachariah, stumbling up the steps to the door to Time.  His back was pulsing and his skin pulling and Scott had seen it happen before.

“You know it’s over.”  War’s voice was overpowering in his head but the image before him never changed from that of a woman, a mother, blood red tears constantly flowing from her eyes as if she was forever crying for a son that would never come home.

“Death is pulling away from the shell that is the Rognaithe and after three millennia we will finally be free.  This world will again be ours.”  The woman never spoke.  Instead, Scott heard the words in his head and just somehow knew they were from her.

Scott then saw the small wizard, the dwarf named Mel.  Zachariah’s secret magic friend was looking back and forth at the battle, assessing the situation.  Mel kept the spell in place that kept the Dahaka away from Zachariah, a beast that was released eons ago by the Nex’s of Time and…

…and it was all really confusing to Scott. Just too much information to take in in two days. All he knew was that if Mel released the spell the Dahaka would burst through the doors and get Zachariah and his best friend would be wiped from time and space…as well as the horse men that had crawled out of him.

Zachariah screamed and collapsed one inch from the door to time, the place Zachariah needed to get to stop all this, and save himself. He saw a boney had begun to push its way out of Zachariah’s back. Scott’s eyes went to Mel again and he saw the greater good overwhelm him, and Scott knew then, Mel would fail Zachariah.

Mel released the spell and Scott screamed.  “No!”

Zachariah seemed to find his resolve and the boney hand was pulled back into him for a second.  He grabbed the door handle and opened the door.  Scott watched as the beast crashed through the main hall.  It was huge and seemed to move on four legs with no distinctive shape.  It was just a swirling black mass with two bright white lights where Scott guessed its eyes should be.

“Stop it!”  War screamed and the swarm of bugs turned and moved towards the monster but the monster roared and the bugs were scattered.

It began to gallop across the room towards its pray mowing down ninjas and demons alike.  “It cannot reach the Rognaithe before death is free!!!”

War screamed but it was too late.  He stepped through the doorway into the time chamber and then, a second later, the Dahaka leaped after him.  As soon as the monster touched Zachariah, there was an explosion and a flash of light that washed over the room.

War screamed as the Horsemen were the first to disintegrate into the light.  Mel looked at Scott and Scott spit blood in his direction.  “Damn it Mel.  What have you done?”

Mel frowned.  “I’m sorry.  I had to, but you are his true friend.  You are here now and you will be the one that remembers, and for that I am truly sorry.”

****

Two days Before the Instant…

Zachariah pressed play on the CD player and John Lee Hooker’s deep voice and skillful guitar filled the small apartment.  The song was “Burnin’ Hell” which Zachariah found interesting because he was about to find out.

He placed a small black cigarette into his mouth and lit it up, trying not to itch any number of the red bumps that littered his skin.  Bedbugs, he had tried everything to get rid of them and failed.  They would not die and, even worse, they only seemed to be in his room, leaving his roommate alone, completely.

After the last couple of months he began to believe they only existed in his mind, like some kind of Edgar Allen Poe metaphor for his life slowly consuming him.  He remembered the side stepper telling him to find his love before falling to his death.  That was where it had begun to go downhill.  The woman he believed to be his love had ceased to love him, ceased to even really be the woman he had fallen for and the relationship ended.

The slide into depression began there and only built momentum.  His drinking became worse and worse as he realized his entire life had been built around a woman who was never really his in the first place.  He no longer talked to any of his family and most of his friends had begun to stop calling.  Even his roommate had enough of him.

Now, on his twenty seventh birthday, Zachariah was already drunk and it was only 11:00 A.M.  He was done.  He had decided then and there that this world had nothing left for him and he had nothing left for it.

He finished packing the apartment’s front door with old Polo shirts to make it mostly air tight then began to dance around to the music, freed from the pain in the knowledge that he was about to end it. He moved to the small kitchen and grabbed the stove pulling it away from the wall and, using a wrench, he smashed open the natural gas line and gas began to blow into the apartment.

He took another drag on his cigarette and put it out.  There was no need to blow up and kill innocent people.  He only wanted to let the place fill with gas and slip into the afterlife.

He scratched, he couldn’t help it anymore, and who cared anyway?  He would be dead soon.

There was a loud knock on the door.

Zachariah turned and frowned, whispering to himself.  “You have got to be kidding me.”

He was silently hoping that whoever was on the other side would just move on.  He had no such luck as the knock came again and the person on the other side yelled through the door.  “Come on, Zach.  I know you are in there.  You always take you birthday off.”

The voice belonged to Scott, the friend who had always been there for Zach, even when Zach didn’t want it…  Like right now.  Scott had been calling non-stop since he found out about Zachariah and Maggie’s break up, on a quest to make sure his buddy was okay.  Zachariah had returned none of those calls, wanting to be left alone.

“I can kick this door down.  You know I can.”  Scott said through the door after more silence had followed.  Zachariah knew he could, too.  Scott was a black belt in some kind of martial art, Zachariah could never remember which, Kempo Kung Pao?  Something like that.

“Alright, I’m coming.”  Zachariah finally resigned himself to having to get rid of Scott as fast as possible so he could finish finishing himself.

Zachariah unlocked the door and opened it, only a crack.  “Thanks for coming, but go home.”

Scotts oval face frowned back at him, he had started shaving his head and with his stocky, fit build, it made him appear very intimidating, even if he was slightly shorter than Zachariah.  “I came to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Thanks, now go home.”  Zachariah replied and tried to shut the door but Scott’s foot stopped him.

“I drove all the way from Cleveland.”  Scott said, frustrated.

“Then you should get a head start on heading home.”  Zachariah replied, also frustrated… and itchy.

“Do I smell gas?” Scott’s face shifted as the gas that was quickly flooding the apartment finally reached his nose.

“No, I don’t smell anything.”  Zachariah sputtered quickly, losing his opportunity.

Scott took a quick step and put his shoulder into the door.  Zach lost his footing and fell backward and Scott pushed open the door and saw into the kitchen.  “My God!  What are you doing?”

****

10 years after the instant…

“What are you doing?”  The small dwarf’s voice was weak now as his murderer laid him on the floor gently before removing his broadsword from the small Nex’s chest.

“I’m sorry but I have to make this right.” The killer replied as he stood and sheathed his sword.  He wished he could feel bad about the small Mage’s impending death but after ten years of fighting and death, losing everything he held dear, he had been numbed.

“You can’t do what you are thinking, you cannot un-do time.”  Mel sputtered as he coughed blood out onto his cheek.

The killer approached the large stone door at the back of the head Nex’s chambers where the key to time was kept and heard Mel’s words only on the edge of his consciousness and he dismissed them instantly.  Whether it was or was not possible no longer mattered.  For the killer, the question was no longer how or what, but when.  He had lost too much and come too far not to.

The killer approached the door pulling a long cross shaped piece of stone. He placed it into the center of the door and the stone began to shift, magically beckoned to move by the artifacts placement. Beyond the door a small room with nothing but a pedestal and an old looking golden key.

“Scott.  Please-” Mel sputtered but was cut off.

The killer spun at the sound of his own name, rage coiled into his blood.  “Don’t call me that!”

The killer calmed, realizing he was talking to himself now.  Mel had left the room, and his body.

A small ping of regret washed over the killer.  He still got those occasionally.  His hands were drenched in the blood of his enemies.  If he accomplished his goal it would all be undone.  It would be unwritten and he could finally be at peace.  He would be the man he had once been, a man he respected.

He turned from the dead Nex back to the key and the future he needed to rebuild.

There was no going back.

Well that was dark, wasn’t it?  Has anyone figured out what’s going on yet because I have to be honest, I don’t even know!  Will Scott let Zach murder himself?  Will the future version of Scott murder everyone else?  Will this season be funny?  Find out…

NEXT TIME!

Stranger Things; Zachariah’s Death

TO BE CONTINUED…