Subject: [dcfutures] DCFutures Presents THE MELDING #4 of 4 Date: Mon, 16 Oct 2000 23:13:08 -0700 From: "Tommy Hancock" "Open your eyes, my dear Doctor." No, she couldn't, not again. He'd coaxed, forced, seduced, molested her into doing it too many times already. Every time she did as he asked, something else horrible flashed before her. Images, creatures, nightmares, emotions. All made real. All raped violently by pulses and bursts of energy twirling madly in some sort of erratic ethereal dance. Into the corpse of a policeman. And she watched it, when her eyes were opened. She saw between the strands of centuries and seconds that wound into the body. She stood in abject horror as the man with pink energy dancing off of him, Johnny Thunder she remembered, was skewered by his own lightning, literally rent apart, drawn and quartered by his own power. Still he fought on. And the Wizard. He'd stood in front of her, shielding her as long as he could. But their host couldn't allow that to continue. Something slithered from the psychotic landscape undulating around them, something that appeared to be nothing but a mouth. A gaping maw of razor teeth that in a single gulp swallowed Zard and regurgitated him. Over and Over and Over. "Really, now, Deborah," his velvet voice droned in her ears, somehow tweaking her nipples and raising the hair on the back of her neck all at once, "You know you want to watch. You have nothing better to do than enjoy that which you never believed to be true." Tears burnt against her eyelids as she strained to keep them closed. But he was right. Whatever he was doing, whatever this insane place was doing to her made her want to be a part, to revel in the depravity. To let herself go. "Richard," she whispered, "Richard." "Calm, child. It will all be finished soon." She'd felt the voice inside of her the instant Richard vanished from view. Someone else touching her like he had, reaching up from within and into her very soul. And connecting. Someone, Deborah Thirteen knew instinctively, who loved him as much as she had grown to. "He...he said it would only be a moment." "It has only been that long." The woman's voice unfolded, enveloping Deborah's fears, swallowing as much of her agony as it could. "And he will return. He is, above all, a man of his word." "Deborah." Vandal Savage walked over to her, stepping wide around a saliva covered Zard firing bolts of power into the mouth that was once more slurping him up like an oyster. "Do not resist, my dear." He wiped the blood that had risen to the top of her skin away. "Enjoy the last minutes of your existence before you yourself are yanked into the Melding. I didn't imagine you, the greatest modern cynic of magick, had such power within you. But it calls to you, doesn't it, Deborah? Just like it has to others. It wants you inside of it, to become one with it. And there is no one to stop that now." "Bit of the horse before the carriage, don't you think, friend?" Savage raised his head, a sneer crossing his lips as he saw beyond Dr. Thirteen the owner of the rather sharp words. "Ah, the monkey god." He moved past Deborah without going around her and stood just feet away from the two beings he'd somehow not felt enter what he believed to be his realm. "And the thief of the gods." "That's right," Prometheus replied, his sword drawn and raised. Hanuman stood to his left, just a few steps in front of him, a battle axe in one hand, a dagger carved in the image of Shiva in the other. "And we're here to steal something back from you, Savage." Savage laughed, raising his hand above his head. "Dear boy, you really ought to find a dialogue coach if you're going to continue to fight in our circles. Of course," he opened his hand, the Ruby of Life throbbing like a tiny jewel heart in his palm, "You won't be fighting anyone ever again. You both really should have come with someone a bit more powerful. At least that would have made good sport." "Then," the voice cued Hanuman and Prometheus to step aside, "Get ready to play, Savage." Standing behind his two companions was a man in a trenchcoat and a fedora to match. The shadow from the brim of his hat was almost alive, dancing about his face, at times only showing the angry gleam of his eyes or his stern smile. He stood there facing Savage, his right hand out in front of him, his fabled black and white Symbol of Seven drawn like a gun. "Open your eyes, Deborah," Dr. Occult said, "You'll be going home soon." THE DCFuture Underground Fan Fiction group acknowledges that DC Comics owns the concepts behind Johnny Thunder, Dr. Occult, and other DC characters that may be used here and ALL related characters and retains complete rights to said characters. These concepts are used WITHOUT permission for NO PROFIT, but rather a strong desire to peer into the future of the DC Universe. Also acknowledge that the concepts and original characters introduced here are the intellectual property of the author. THE MELDING #4 of 4 "Finale and Prologue" Written by Tommy Hancock Edited By "Ah," Vandal Savage said, almost an irritated sigh, "Back from walkabout, are we, Richard? Tell me then," He walked away from Deborah, his attentions turned from her to her paramour, "What did your little excursion teach you?" Deborah gasped as she fell to the ground, whatever held her prisoner no longer restricting her. Raising her head, she told herself not to curl up in a ball and sob like she wanted to. She had to see this. It meant something, she didn't know what, but something to her. Occult matched Savage for every step he took with his Symbol of Seven, his hands moving slowly, like the crosshairs of a gun aimed at its target. "Actually, Savage," Occult replied, walking behind Prometheus and Hanuman as they marched forward, their blades hacking away at demons and memories, "you'll be quite surprised, I think, by what I learned." "That I doubt," Savage said with a staged yawn. "You mystery men, God, I hated that term even when it was en vogue, are all the same under your masks and tights. Even those who only wore tights briefly. You always choose on the side of the right thing to do." Savage turned on his heel, firing a blast from the Ruby in his hand at Prometheus. The Titan shouted as he took the full brunt of the energy, somersaulting back past Occult. "Too bad that this time, that's not even a choice." "Vandal," Occult said, hesitating as Prometheus picked himself up and resumed his position at right point, "You are right. I have walked through modern day magick, seen the wounds the ancient arts have lain open. I am covered in the acrid odor of various profane practices." He passed Deborah as the three of them advanced on, his eyes settling on hers. She reached her hand out, his coat brushing it. In their gaze, she saw something, latched onto it. Understanding. Not the clear, precise image of what was happening, but enough to know what was to come. How it would end for him. Occult continued, "So many strands blow out there in the wind, Savage. So much has been corrupted from that which once was pure. Since the splintering of that which was magick, mortal fallibility and cosmic depravity have muddied what once had been crystal. Until now there is nothing left except random mutations of what once was not simply the soul of infinity. But infinity itself." Savage laughed. "My, my, Occult. You are feeling your mystical oats, aren't you. Sounding more and more like your boorish associate, the Phantom Stranger, with every word. But," Savage stopped beside Johnny Thunder's head and shoulders, the other three parts of his body strewn near by, "I'm glad to see you understand. What I'm doing is destined. To bring all the loose ends together into a fine knot." Aiming the Ruby at Johnny's left shoulder, Savage fired a stream of red at it. Johnny's mouth twisted into a shriek. "Into a knot that I hold." "Doc!" Johnny cried, electric tears in his eyes, the Ruby searing into him. "Doc! What are you doing? Don't do this! Stop him! Doc!" "Johnny," Occult's voice was firm, almost stern, "Please listen. Don't fight it, Johnny. We're anachronisms, you and I. Two men who lived long past their time because of bastardized magicks." He spoke to Johnny, but his eyes did not leave the Ruby of Life vibrating in Savage's hand. The Symbol of Seven hummed against his fingertips, threatening to tear away from his grasp. "This is the way it has to be, Johnny. Magicks were never meant to be. There was only to be one. One pure form that we dip into." Johnny Thunder's eyes flashed with pink rage. "Doc! You're talking crazy! I'm not gonna just let myself die! I'm not gonna be a part of what he's doing! Not like the Hood." "Johnny," Occult's words suddenly fell hard, his voice dropping an octave, "Pay attention. Not to what you see. But what you feel. Ride the feeling, Johnny. Your power, whether you ever knew it or not, was one of the greatest in creation. And power like that will live always. And it's telling you what to do, Johnny." Savage said nothing, but the energy from the Ruby did not stop. Johnny Thunder clinched his eyes in pain, shaking his head, trying to concentrate. Then abruptly his eyes opened. All signs of agony fled his face as he looked up at Savage and said, smiling, "Say, you have a good point there, Doc. A really good point." From behind Savage, Johnny's right arm trembled with life as it rose up and flew toward the Ruby. As it moved through the air, it transformed from pink hued flesh into a bolt of pink lightning. It struck the Ruby, jolting Savage's hand, but not interrupting the barrage against Johnny. "Johnny!" Zard shouted as the mouth chewed on him once again. "Don't! He's mad!" "It's OK, Wizard," Johnny said, his effervescent grin widening. "Really. Do what Occult said. Just lay back and feel. No sense in relying on our minds for this. They don't work here." Johnny's left arm and leg lifted up and, becoming lightning, followed the first bolt into the Ruby. "Listen to the music of what's playing around you, Wizard." The right side of his body vanished into lightning, then into the jewel as Johnny's head and shoulder began to flicker and change. "Say, you guys," Johnny Thunder said, his voice fading into a crackle, "See ya soon!" The last bolt of pink struck the Ruby. For a single instant, the blood red of the stone changed to neon pink, then back to its crimson stain. "Yes!" Savage shouted triumphantly. He felt the magick that had been Johnny Thunder build in the body floating behind him. The Ruby collected the energy and the corpse of Caul Rowan stored it. Savage was winning. And the only man who had any chance of defeating him was helping him. "I have achieved my destiny!" He paid no attention as Prometheus rounded to his left, out of Savage's view, still heading for Rowan's body. "William," Occult advanced on Savage. He could walk right up to him, Savage swept up in his own self adulation, but that was not what had to happen. "Do you understand yet? You're an intuit, Zard, not like Johnny. Yet your abilities rest in the magicks as well, a variety of them. Surely you know-" "Yes." William Zard sounded tired, like the centuries old man he truly was. "I do know, Richard." As his mangled body fell from the disembodied mouth, he raised his bloody head. "And it is time. Time for the wrong to be made right." He tried to laugh, but the blood rising in his throat only let him gurgle. "Funny. I never thought I'd be one saying that." Raising to his knees, William Zard leapt for Savage. His hands out, he locked his fingers with Savage's, both men rolling across the twisted landscape. Savage continued laughing. He felt Zard being siphoned off by the Ruby. Atom by Atom. Every drop of blood and flake of skin. The magick pulled from it. Until nothing was left. Nothing except Savage lying on his back wrestling with no one. "Richard!" Deborah Thirteen stood now, unable to comprehend the terror before her. She ran to him, but stopped short. Something innate told her to stay clear. To let it happen. But she could not. Not without questioning. "Richard, why? Why did they have to-" "They didn't die, Deborah." Occult stopped, just feet away from Savage. They faced each other, two titans on the brink of Armageddon. "They gave themselves to what has to happen. The Melding, Deborah. The Melding must take place. The many have to become the one for all to be set right." His eyes narrowed as he broke his stare with Savage and looked at her. "For those who need to rest to rest. And those who need to continue to step up." "And you, Occult," Savage bellowed madly, "Your bodyguards have vanished. So it is also a time for you. A time for you to simply die!" "No!" Deborah Thirteen screamed, but a moment too late. Vandal Savage pointed the Ruby at Occult and unleashed it. Not a single beam, but a wide swath of scarlet bathed Occult savagely, tearing into him. Deborah ran at him, wanting to throw herself in front of him. But she didn't. Because in that instant, her eyes saw his face. The peace in his eyes. The smile like he'd never seen. And the ghostly image of a woman at his side. "Rose." The spectral figure raised her head at the sound of her name. She nodded to Deborah, then turned her attention to Richard Occult. They locked arms, raising his Symbol of Seven into the Ruby's path. "Yes!" Savage shouted, his joy nearly orgasmic. "Give yourself to me, Occult! Give me all that you are!" "Fine," Occult's mouth did not move, but his voice resounded from all around. "Here I come, Savage." The Symbol of Seven dissolved into a white, almost tangible light, a tiny flame at first drowning in the onslaught of the Ruby. Savage's eyes rolled back in his head as he felt every ounce of magick ever imagined coursing in his body on its way to Rowan. He did not notice that Hanuman and Prometheus now stood next to the cadaver, one on each side. He did not realize that Dr. Deborah Thirteen was, for the first time, seeing glimpses of her place in this mosaic. And he did not know that his battle was lost. Until he felt the heat of hell on his hands. "What-No! No!" Savage looked down to see the Ruby nearly consumed by a blinding white light. It infiltrated the Ruby, sliding into it like a million knives, piercing its very shell. "What-What are you doing? Stop! Stop!" "No, Savage!" Occult answered, his body now nearly as transparent as that of his first love. "You wanted it all! This is all there is left! The Stranger was right! Everything that was rested with me! It's time for that to be gone! For all the children to return home! It's time for the Melding to end and for Magick to truly begin!" Vandal Savage cried out like a newborn child as the Ruby of Life shattered in his hands. A wave of indescribable intensity swept over him. In the space of a solitary breath, Savage saw and felt every single moment of existence touched by Magick. And it forced him to his knees. Deborah Thirteen shielded her eyes, but could not turn away as the contents of the now broken Ruby of Life traveled on beyond Savage. And poured like water into a jar into the form of Caul Rowan. The body convulsed. A ripple ran through its skin, a palpable force emanating from it. It rose upright, both of its guards stepping back for it. They watched in awe as did Dr. Thirteen as a maelstrom of power, that which had made up Savage's stage, swirled about Rowan's corpse, hiding it from them at first. The maddening colors and images faded from around them, leaving them standing on a rather nondescript off-white canvas. "Richard," Deborah turned to see Occult standing now, Rose at his side, their arms still intertwined. That, for some reason, did not disturb her. She could not imagine why, but that was as it should be. "Who..." her gaze went back to the storm around the body, now fading away. "Who is he really?" "He was," Occult replied, his voice still reverberating from all sides, "a man who did not know that this was his future. He lived and breathed as you do. As I did. And he was known as Caul Rowan. But now he has died. And he is not known by anyone. He is not a mortal anymore. He is simply a-" "A phantom." The voice overshadowed Occult's as a clap of thunder might a strike of lightning. The cyclone vanished as someone stepped from it. It was the body of Caul Rowan, but transformed. His black hair was now the purest white. His copper skin glowed with its own aura. He wore a fedora, like Occult's but black. A cloak draped around his shoulders, hints of a matching suit and white shirt underneath. He nodded to Hanuman and Prometheus, both of them nodding back in near bows, and walked up to Deborah. He continued, "I am now simply a phantom. A Phantom Stranger." "I don't-" Deborah Thirteen's words stumbled, partly because of sheer shock. But also because she didn't really believe what she was saying. "I don't get it." "Yes," Occult said, he and Rose now standing behind her. "You do, Deborah. You've always gotten it. You've simply denied it. Your strong humanity clouded your vision, as it should have until now. But you always knew." "There were two," the Stranger said. Deborah now saw that his eyes were devoid of pupils, two slits of white. "Two born into this era who would take up where two born into a previous time," He looked past Deborah at Rose and Occult, "left off. Two who had the ability to make sense of the strange new world the Melding will result in. One to oversee and deal with events beyond normal reckoning, crises outside the scope of anyone else. One who, in any situation or thought, is remembered as no more than a stranger." "And then one," Rose moved around where Deborah could see her, "One who would investigate. One who sees the mysteries that the Melding will leave. Even though this has happened in your time, in the modern, its effects reach back to the beginning of the cosmos itself. Oddities will crop up, irregularities will surface. There must be one to learn of them, to decipher them. To heal the scars this will leave. Like a doctor would." "Like you would." Occult's ghost like hand brushed Deborah's shoulder. "This is your path, Deborah. This is why I loved you. And you loved me." She turned her head and looked into his face. "It was necessary that I find you. You didn't believe. And normal ways, words and arguments, would not make you believe." "But passions," Deborah finished for him, a hint of something new in her own voice, "Passions and experiences would get past my own convictions." She raised her hand to his nearly nonexistent cheek. "Thank you, Richard. Thank you for giving yourself to me. And may you finally find peace." "I have." Dr. Richard Occult turned to face Rose Psychic, their ethereal bodies locked in an embrace. "And I finally have found my place in all of this." He smiled as the two of them rose up and evaporated as if into the wind. Occult's voice trailed off as he said, "Funny how I was at the end of it the whole time." Deborah raised her hand, tears brimming her eyes. As the two eternal lovers vanished, she lowered her hand. Feeling something in it, she turned it over. In her palm rested a black and white emblem. The Symbol of Seven. "Thank you," she whispered. "Now," Hanuman said, sliding his battle axe into its scabbard on his back. "We've all done our little jobs and found our little duties in life. But what now, eh?" He looked at the Stranger. "You're the reason Ponytail and I are here. What happens next?" The Phantom Stranger let a hint of a smile cross his face. "First, Monkey God," he walked over to where Vandal Savage sat, still on his knees, his head down, "The guilty must be punished." "Please," Savage whined as the Stranger gestured with his hand, causing Savage to float up in front of him, "I repent. I was wrong. Please don't hurt me." His eyes were red from crying, his face stricken in fear. "Do not make me go through that again. All the evil. All the sheer power. Please. I am sorry." "That may be," The Stranger said, "But still your crimes extend beyond just this one heinous moment, immortal. In fact, you've committed wrong after wrong against the universe since you first grunted in your cave. You will not be executed for this action or any other. But you will be sentenced to a term of reflection." The Stranger waved his hand again in front of Savage. The large man trembled as he felt something shift. His body folded in on itself. He felt no pain, but he knew he would. Wherever he was going. The Stranger continued, "You will awake, Vandal Savage, in your penthouse just minutes from now. But not before you are returned to the instant of your birth. And relive your life, watching it unfold with the eyes of a spirit. You will be forever bound to your mortal self as he grows, ages, and becomes the demon you are. And you will feel on every level the pain he feels and he causes. Then we will see how repentant you are." "No!" Savage's body was now the size of a crumpled up piece of paper. "I beg you! Nooooooooooooo-" With a 'pop', Vandal Savage was no more. "Now, I've been through a lot for my crimes," Prometheus said with a snicker, "But I'd take being birdseed over that any day." "That's not all," Deborah said. She was undergoing an awakening. Abilities and comprehensions she had never imagined erupted within her. New horizons and vistas rolled out in front of her. And it awed her. "The Melding forced the many magicks into you. Where are they now?" "They are no more," The Stranger replied. "Much like the Ruby of Life, I was merely a conduit. The multitude of corruptions entered my body and left it as quickly, leaving behind me as I truly am. As they left, they intertwined, much like a rope being made. Magick is truly now one. It exists no place and everywhere. There is only one Magick. Many may use it and rituals will come into existence that tap it, but it is neither good nor evil. There is no black and white. Magick is now simply that. Magick. How it is used is determined by the user." "Still," Deborah said, "people will, as you say, determine how it is used. It will be accessed in different ways. Using different tools. Emotions, rites of death, dreams, all of those are still ways of tapping the magick. And until we both learn all there is, because," she smiled at the Stranger, "we both know we have much to learn, there must be some way, some sort of control over the uses of magick." "Lucky for us," The Stranger said, turning away from Deborah, "That that is indeed the case. And Magick itself has taken care of that. Behold the overseers of the one magick and its uses." He raised his arm in a grand flourish. From the white all around them appeared a cluster of figures. They did not walk or move, but instead they simply were there. And everyone knew who they were, even Deborah Thirteen. She had seen one of them, the slender girl wearing the ankh about her neck, when she was eight years old and ill with pneumonia. And the tall thin man in front of her, she knew him from somewhere as well. A dream, maybe. "Welcome, Lord of Slumber," the Stranger said to the thin man leading the group. "You have been gone a long time." "We were no longer needed," the being once known as Morpheus of the Endless answered. "Even immortal abstractions grow bored when they fall into disuse, Stranger. So we walked away. Until we were needed again. That day is now." "Hold on a bit," Hanuman said, stepping between the Stranger and the Endless. "You're telling me the whole bloody family here just decided to come back. That it was that easy." "As easy," their leader said, "as it was for us to walk away in the first place, lord of the monkeys and men. We are the Endless. We are always. But as the eternal existence shifts and change, so must we. Our names will be new and our duties will be different, though linked inexorably to that which we have always been." "As it should be," the Stranger said in this almost scripted exchange. "Go then and find yourselves within the Magick." "And you, Stranger," the young woman wearing the ankh asked, "Just what are you this time around? The philosopher your predecessor was. Or perhaps more of an enforcer of the unified Magick?" The Phantom Stranger chuckled, drawing surprise even from members of the Endless. "A bit of both, you might say. I will stand aside and let events unfold as they must. But when it is time for me to intercede," he raised his hands, wisps of smoke rising from them, twisting into two black pistols, "let's just say I'll do it in my own way." "Wonderful," Prometheus sighed jokingly. "We're now the immortal bodyguards for Magiccop." "Yeah," Hanuman chuckled, "Isn't it grand?" "And you," the one known once as Dream asked, looking at Deborah, "You will take up the mantle left behind this day? You will become the new Occult?" "Not quite." Deborah held the Symbol of Seven out in front of her and turned on her left heel. In the flurry of the spin, her clothes separated from her body, changed, then returned to her. She now wore a fashionable black suit under a brown trenchcoat. A brown fedora rested well on her lovely hair. She grinned and said, "Job's much the same, but not the name. I'm Thirteen. Dr. Thirteen." End of THE MELDING #4 of 4 Well, it's been A LONG TIME coming and I'm sorry for that. Actual reality got very much in the way of my writing (See my announcement on the MB for more on that) but it's all right now. I'm back. I hope you enjoyed this ending of what has been one of the longest planned events in the DCF. Does it tie up all the loose ends? Of course not, it's not supposed to. What it has done is given us all a whole new stage to create Magick on. The Endless are back, with different roles of course, and others will define those roles. There are new rules for Magick. Oh, you want to know what they are? Well, basically writers will define them as well. And that includes me. Starting soon will be a series that will explore the changes and the new situation the Melding has created. I haven't quite decided on a title, but the two choices are THE DOCTOR AND THE STRANGER or THIRTEEN. (Let me know which you like) Essentially, the book will not focus on necessarily stories that will further any great event. Instead it will be an investigation of magick in the DCF, to let us all know how the world is different and how the game is played now. You'll see Dr. Thirteen, The Stranger, his two companions from mythology, a couple of familiar, but different faces. And some new players as well. Look for it soon. Thanks to all the writers that participated in this project, both as actual contributors and allowing us to use your characters. This series has been a bit of magic for me and I thank you for that. The DC Futures Fanfiction Group acknowledges that many characters in these stories are the property of DC Comics. These characters are used for NO PROFIT, but out of an interest in exploring a potential future of the DC Universe. We also acknowledge that any original characters, plots, and concepts are the intellectual property of the author.