SPECIAL 2011

by Frank Murdock

The Cover:

Blue Devil stands in the center of the cover towards the back. He has his hands over his face as if embarrassed. Booster Gold and Blue Beetle (Ted Kord) are stuffed face first into a large three-tiered celebratory cake. The trickster is rolling on the ground laughing pointing at them. George and Lenny, the Muldarian aliens from BD V.1 #6 & 22 have dropped their presents and are making a hasty run towards the right side of the page. Other characters in the background are Manhunter (Mark Shaw in his red and blue w/ metal mask outfit), Captain Atom, The Question, Firestorm, Black Lightning, Metamorpho, Halo, Geoforce, Katana, Animal Man, Elongated Man and Sue Dibney, Plastic man, Firestorm, Starman (Will Payton), The Demon, Red Devil, Kid Devil, Steel, Gypsy, and Vibe; They are all walking away looking disappointed tossing away their party hats and favors. Guy Gardner is lying on the ground with a shiner. Ice is holding him looking upset. Fire is apparently laughing at Guy’s situation. Lobo is holding Guy’s yellow power ring and grinning as he slugs back a drink from his bottle of liqueur.

Cain is directing workers up above them. The workers are covering the House of Mystery Special 2011 logo with a logo for Night force Special 2011. Ambush Bug is sitting atop the cover logo for Night force Special eating a piece of cake.

In front of everybody is Baron Winters, Vanessa Van Helsing, Jack gold, and Adam and Julie Kadmond. Cain is saying: “Last time you covered your rent... consider this the deposit. HehheHheh!”

Somewhere isolated and beneath the ground...

The chains that hold Blue Devil bound do not strain under the reluctant heroe’s attempts to escape. The darkness around him is like a weight of futility that seeks to drown him in the sea of hopelessness he is beginning to feel.

Then there comes the sound of the key into the lock from the door beyond. The dim of light that pierces the veil of oblivion glows like the dying ember of a campfire as a figure enters the pitch holding a sconce.

Blue Devil would say something if not for the hoarseness of his throat. He has been calling out for what feels like days and his voice has finally taken a much needed hospice.

Instead he merely watches as the robed figure begins to take on more clarity as torches are ignited throughout the room one by one. When all are alight the robed figure moves before Dan Cassidy and begins to unclasp a large tome he has been carrying under one arm. Large leather bands are loosened from tarnished clasps of bronze before the thick patchworked leather covers open to show aged pages filled with indecipherable scrawling.

Slowly the bent and crooked fingers of the man in black turn through the pages of the thick tome before resting on that which he seeks. For several minutes the man in black seems to gaze at the pages unmoving before looking up at the chained hero and letting a sinister chuckle break the silence.

“I believe it has been said: ‘that which does not kill you will only make you stronger’... in your case that will not be true.”

Reaching into his robes he pulls forth a small jar and opens it. Dabbing his finger into the container he then presses the substance onto Blue Devil’s forehead. The hero tries to flinch away, but he is unable to avoid the man’s touch. In his weakened state he can do nothing but groan within.

The man in black marks his lips with the same substance and then begins to recite passages from the text.

Blue Devil feels nothing at first. The words come off the man’s tongue like a dark symphony initially, but as his voice raises in timbre and strength, the words seem to become guttural, and at their crescendo, a bastardization of all that us holy.

And it is at this point that the azure hero beging to feel something happen to him.

First comes the raising of his hair across the landscape of his body... the feeling of things crawling over his skin... the squirming and digging of things beneath his flesh... and finally a pain like none he has ever felt before... so painful that from deep within his core his voice finds new strength and tears out from strained vocal cords and past his lips to fill the small room with such intensity that the flames of the torches seem to sway from the impact of his cries and reverberate through the stone passages beyond.

Dan Cassidy screams for what feels like an eternity.

But in truth only a few minutes pass as a flicker of ectoplasmic energy forms where the man in black has marked the horn-headed hero upon the forehead. There a wisp of tendriled otherworldly substance shoots forth and is consumed by the parted lips of the sorcerer.

And when it is over the hero known as Blue Devil lies crumpled upon the ground, unmoving.

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
November 1

Baron Winters stands over a small cauldron upon a dais. He spreads a grayish powder into the cauldron that matches the color of his gothic apparel. His formal attire of a suit and vest ensemble highlighted by a short cape and silken ruffled shirts gives him a distinction of regalness and authority.

His grey eyes peer into the cauldron through rising mists, his face seemingly unmoved by the images he beholds.

He waves his hand over the cauldron and the mists fade away. He then steps away from the cauldron and walks towards a wall of books. He reaches upwards and withdraws an aged volume from the shelf and purposely thumbs through its yellowed pages.

He stops at one point and reads from the tome’s pages intently before closing the book and placing it under his left arm.

He moves over towards a large desk and reaches for a golden rope. He pulls it.

Moments later a tall man of middle-eastern decent walks into the room from a side-door.

“Baron Winters?” he queries in a reserved tone.

The man in grey, now sitting at the large oak desk in the back of the room, once again is engaged in the text lying open in front of him. He looks up at the servant.

“Zadok, A crisis of immense proportion is taking shape; it is time to once again assemble the Night force.”

Zadok nods.

“The usual team?”

“No,” returned the Baron. “We will need others...”

Before the Baron can finish speaking the phone rings.

“Wintersgate Mansion, says Zadok as he puts the handset to his ear. He listens to the voice on the other end for several seconds.

“Of course. One moment please.” Laying one hand over the transmitter he turns towards the Baron. “Sir, an important call from Ingolstadt. Would you like to take it here in your study?”

Baron winters turns towards Zadock and with an unreadable face and knowing tone says, “I am aware of her situation. Tell her to journey here and we will work together to find that which she seeks.”

As Zadok relays the information over the phone Baron Winters eyes the picture within the book.

The image is that of a lone figure. The figure is that of a man. His clothing is ragged, and he holds what appears to be a jagged toothed longsword. Two massive columns of stone stand on either side. An image of power and light. Beneath the image reads: “It is said that a hero came from the sky. A man who defeated this evil and buried the Book in the Castle of Kandar.”

“Kandar…,” mutters The Baron indifferently. “Kandar….”

Midnight, Massachusetts
November 4

The autumn colors of orange, yellow, and brown cover the streets of the small town. The cool northern winds of the day whisper warning of the bitter winter ahead. The local school sits full of children whose excitement of the beginning of a new school year has started to wane. Seniors work diligently in their yards raking and pruning for the winter to come.

All-in-all it is a Rockwell portrait in the making.

A Dodge Omni pulls up to the curb and parks. The sound of the metal band ‘The Misfits’ can be heard blasting from the speakers within.

“Believers be on guard
Be strong and take a stand
The time of Armageddon's here
Some call me the son of the morning

Spe-e-e-eak of the Devi-i-i-il ...

whoa-oa-oa ...

Spe-e-eak! Of! The! De-e-vil!"

A passenger steps out from the vehicle and takes the last drag from his cigarette before flicking the butt onto the pavement and crushing it out. Handing the driver within a small plastic bag he lights another cigarette as the vehicle pulled away. Combing his hair back with his fingers the man steps onto the sidewalk and strides towards the large house. As he steps onto the stairs of the second empire Victorian home, his eyes glances over the sign in the front yard that reads: Midnight Mass. Investigations.

Jenny Kozlowski sits at her desk doodling on a note pad. The voice on the other end of the phone seems to go on forever as she listens half-heartedly.

“Uh-huh….. A witch? You don’t say…. Like those girls on Charmed. She’s living in the house across the street… Really… You saw her watching television as her broom and mop cleaned the house on their own… that’s amazing….”

As Jenny speaks to the caller, a tall man with slicked-back hair comes through the door. He wears a tan trench coat over a double-breasted blue pin-striped suit. His dark blue eyes scan the room before meeting the young secretary’s.

Something about the man’s presence demands the young secretary’s immediate attention. Jenny quickly returns to the conversation at hand.

“Well, I’ve got your number, Mrs. Kravitz… Yes... 1163 Morning Glory Circle… Yes, I’ll have the Kadmon’s contact you. Thanks for calling. Good-bye.” Hanging up the phone she looked up at the gentleman smiling. “Hello. My names Jennipher – Welcome to Midnight Mass Investigations. How might I help you?”

“Look at this, Honey,” says Julia Kadmond as she peers into the computer monitor. “Looks like L.A. might have another vampire problem.”

At a table across the room sits Adam Kadmond, a handsome man with dark hair and deep blue eyes. He is sipping a cup of coffee as he thumbs through the latest copy of Beyond Investigation magazine. He looks up at his wife—how he could spend all day doing that. He smiles as he says “Really? Somebody wanting us to clear one out of their basement?”

“No,” replies Julia. “Just noticing there’s going to be a One World by Night convention there next week. Looks like they got Pink Turns Blue to perform during their opening midnight Blood Ball. Nothing to be alarmed about just yet.”

Adam raises an eyebrow to this as he halts a sip from his cup. “Oh. I was worried. I thought it was going to be something serious like the return of that Bat Child that was attacking small children a few years back. Remember all the hoopla caused when the National Chronicle print that story without considering the panic it might cause?”

Julia turned from her computer with a mock look of horror. “Yes, I remember. It was awful. All the Orlando schools were shut down for weeks due to parent’s fear of their kids being attacked on their way to school by the creature. It wasn’t until the Feds said they had captured the creature and sent him with the Marines to storm Afghanistan to find Bin Laden that the fears resided”.

“Yep,” replies Adam. “Especially if the government was able to clone an army of Bat children as reported by them a few years later. Something like that could cause panic in the streets; the complete breakdown of civilization as we know it”.

“That would be bad, wouldn’t it? How would the two of us hope to stop such an insidious proliferation?”

“I’m not sure we could my dear,” says Adam as he puts down his magazine and stands. “As a matter-of-fact, I think it would surely mean the end of the entire world as we know it.”

Julia rises from her seat and moves over by her husband. Wrapping her arms around him she says, “What would we do in those final hours?” feigning a whimper.

Adam lifts her chin and smiles. “Well, I have a few ideas…” before gently kissing her lips.

“Hmmmmm,” she cooes. “Maybe the end of the world wouldn’t be so bad... At least it would end on a climactic note.”

Adam is about to remark on his wife’s innuendo, but is cut short by a knock outside the door of their shared office.

“I guess this will have to wait,” sighs Julia as she pushes away from Adam and opens the door. Standing outside is their secretary, Jenny.

“Yes, Jenny. What’s up?”

The young secretary smiled as she looks at her employers. She often remarks how they look like the pairing of a 30-something Stephanie Powers and 40-ish Pierce Brosnan when she talks to her friends and family.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kadmond… There’s someone here to see you.”

“Who?” asked Adam inquisically.

“He says his name is John Constantine.”

Adam and Julia looked at each other surprised.

“Lead him to the library, Jenny,” says Adam. “We’ll be there in a moment.”

“Sure thing, sir,” says Jenny before turning and closing the door behind her with a smile.

“John Constantine?” says Julia somewhat amazed. “Why would he want to talk to us?”

Adam gives his wife another kiss. “I don’t know dear, but let’s hope he’s not here with tickets to see Pink Turns Blue, eh?”

When the Kadmonds arrive in their library they find John Constantine facing one of the large bookshelves filled with tomes that covered a wide range of topics from apparition sightings to zombie animation. A cloud of smoke hangs over the library as they watch the man in the trench coat light a new cigarette with the end of the prior. Turning towards the Kadmonds he crushes out his butt into an ashtray filled with several others of the same brand.

“I think we can help one another. Mind if I smoke?”

The Kadmonds look at one another with sidelong glances before Adam saays, “No. Go ahead. What exactly is it that we can do for you, Mr. Constantine?”

“Ever heard of the Necronomicon?” replies Constantine.

Georgetown, Washington D.C.
November 5

Stepping from the rental car Adam and Julia Kadmond follow Constantine up to the door of the large mansion. Constantine lights another cigarette with his Zippo as he uses the door knocker.

“So this is Wintersgate Mansion, home of the infamous Baron Winters,” says Adam, amazed. “Nice place.”

Julia nods in agreement. “I wonder what the Baron pays in taxes for it?”

At that point the door opens and a large man with broad shoulders answers the door. His features are that of Jewish ancestry with eyes which hold the intensity of a man who has witnessed a great deal in his time.

“Greetings,” says the man in a deep voice. “The Baron has been expecting you.”

Constantine says nothing as he moves past the man into the foyer beyond. Adam and Julia introduce themselves before stepping in.

“I am Zadok Grimm. I serve the master of this house—we share a common goal.”

Zadok then gestures for the Kadmonds to follow him through an archway into a hall. The couple can see that Constantine is ahead of them. At the end of the hall Constantine disappears through a set of double doors where Zadok follows.

Inside is found a large library with several chairs and sofas, the room seemingly taken out of an old 1940s film portraying the extravagance of 19th century British Earls and statesmen.

Around a short table surrounded by sofas and a comfortable looking straight back chair sits a man and a woman. The two sit apart on one of the sofas.

The woman looks to be in her early 20s with short curly blonde hair. Julia thinks she favors a younger Amanda Bearse, but in a lonesome and withdrawn way.

The man is slightly older with brown hair and investigating eyes. He is a grim looking man whose face shows a hard and pessimistic demeanor. Julia thinks he looks like Nathan Fillion playing the part of a down and out reporter with his cheap suit and trench coat. He comes off as uninterested in their arrival as he sipped at a cup of coffee.

“Mr. And Mrs. Kadmond,” begins Zadok. “Jack Gold and Vanessa Van Helsingr. The master will be with you briefly.”

And with that Zadok leaves the room.

Adam and Julia look at one another before introducing themselves to the other couple in a less formal manner.

“My name”s Adam and this is my wife Julia.”

“I don’t mean to be coy,” said Julia. “But did I hear him right? He said your name was ‘Van Helsing’? As in Abraham Van Helsing from...?”

“Yes, you heard Zadok correctly,” admits Vanessa. “Abraham was my great grandfather... and before you ask, yes—the stories are true.”

Julia sits down and begins to pour herself a cup of coffee from the silver decanter on the table. “I think I’ll need a cup of this...”

Adam looks over at Jack. “I know your name from somewhere... maybe we’ve met?”

Jack gives Adam a sidelong glance. “No. I don’t believe we’ve ever met. I’m a reporter for the...“

“National Chronicle!” says Adam matter-of-factly. “I thought I recognized your name, but couldn’t place it! Do you guys make that stuff up or what?”

“Not all of it,” responds Jack snidely. “Sometimes we hire professionals to right the rag.”

Really,” says Adam reaching for the pot of coffee. “So you two are like real life versions of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Carl Kolchak?”

“That’s funny... not,” snaps Jack.

Adam unsure how to take Jack gold’s retort reaches for the coffee decanter too. “Perhaps I should have a cup of this too. Honey, pass the sugar would you?”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Who are you two supposed to be... The Hart to Hart of monster hunters?”

Adam and Julia look at one another and then smile.

“Yeah,” they answer back simultaneously.

Vanessa says nothing, but looks at Jack as if passing some unsaid message to him. Jack merely closes his eyes and shakes his head dismissively before taking a drink from his cup and lighting another cigarette.

“Great...” mumbles the reporter.

As Adam pours the coffee into his cup Zadok returns to the room. Behind him walks Constantine and an older man wearing a Gothic Victorian style suit. Over the suit the man wears a high collared cloak that falls just past his waist. He stands facing the Kadmonds leaning on a walking stick with an ornate silver hand piece.

The man looks around the room and says, “We are missing but one. It matters not. We can begin without her.” He turns his eyes to where sit the Kadmonds. “Greetings Mr. and Mrs. Kadmond. My name is Baron Winters,” He lets his hand drop down onto the head of a large cheetah at his side, “and this is Merlin my familiar, welcome to Wintersgate Mansion.”

The Baron has gray hair and a small goatee that covers his chin only. His gray eyes are vast pools of knowledge that equal the depth of emotional detachment that seem to carry on his words. This feels intimidating to Julia Kadmond as she takes in the older man’s high cheeked and gaunt features.

At Baron Winter’s side sits Merlin, a large cheetah with a black jeweled collar. The large cat’s green eyes look at the Kadmond as if studying them with semi-human intellect. The large cat’s gaze makes Adam feel uncomfortable. He slowly takes a sip from his cup to relax.

“Pleased to meet you, Baron,” says Adam. “What exactly is it that you believe we can do for you? And foremost, what does this have to do with the Necronomicon?”

The Baron takes a seat in the large straight back chair at the head of the table between the two couches. Merlin draws up to his right side and sits beside him, never taking his eyes off the Kadmonds.

“I believe your knowledge of the Necronomicon may be a crucial asset to the team as you embark on your mission,” replied the Baron.

Julia looks up at the Baron. She seems perplexed by the man’s words.

“Mission? What mission?”

Adam furrows his eyebrows and turns towards Constantine.

“What’s he talking about Constantine? You never said anything about a mission.”

Constantine is looking over a row of books along the far wall when Adam asks his question. Turning around as if he is having an afterthought, the occultist lights another cigarette before looking up and saying, “I didn’t? Bugger.” Nodding his head towards the Baron, “Maybe you should ask him.”

Jack Gold turns towards the Baron gritting his teeth. “What’s this all about, Winters?”

Baron Winters looks at his guests stone-faced.

“Someone broke into the Widener Library on Halloween and stole the Necronomicon.”

Jack stands silent for a moment in contemplative awe. He licks his lips as if taking in what Winters has just said before grinning and smugly saying “You mean to tell me somebody went into the Widener Library… took THE Necronomicon off one of the shelves… and just walked out?” He gives an unbelieving chuckle. “Tell me this...” starts Jack with a sardonic timbre, “What idiot places THE most diabolic tome of all creation on the shelves of a college campus library for just anybody to check out on a whim? You’d think someone would have placed it in a government warehouse next to the Ark of the Covenant for safe keeping!”

“That’s quite enough, Mr. Gold,” says Baron Winters firmly. “Desist your sarcastic expletives.”

Jack grits his teeth and does as he was told. He looks back at Constantine as he lights another cigarette.

Constantine continues without missing a heartbeat.

“From what I’ve been able to gather the Head Librarian arrived at work early this morning and found the library in a right state. Books were strewn all over the place and the security guards were out of it with thousands of books discarded over 'em. No one would have even realized something had been taken from the library except for the security cameras. Apparently a black robed figure was caught on film rifling through the library book by book and chucking them aside before locating one in particular. Cameras showed the cops it was a copy of Qanoon-e-Islam until it was nabbed by the thief, and to their amazement, transformed to another book entirely.”

Julia gasps. “The Necronomicon? But how?”

Adam clears his throat before cautiously pushing forward with a question.

“Julia has a point, but Mr. Gold’s question is a good one too. I’m confused as to how or why a copy of such a book would have been so carelessly left among the stacks of circulations? Wasn’t anybody aware of the tome’s location – of the potential threat it might cause in the hands of the wrong person or persons?”

Constantine lights another cigarette with the butt of his prior and presses the butt into the ashtray beside Jack Gold.

“The copy of the Necronomicon that was taken is no typical book Mr. Kadmond,” starts the Brit. “The book nicked from the library was actually the Al Azif… the first and original of the tomes that would later be known as the Necronomicon.”

Silence hangs over the air of the Wintersgate Library for several seconds.

“The Al Azif?” says Jack enquiringly. “So this is the original printing of the Necronomicon in its original Arabic translations… other than its value on the black market to occultists, who cares?”

“Unlike most tomes of paper and leather bindings, the Al Azif was scripted in human blood and bound upon human flesh,” replies Constantine matter-of-factly. “It was made into a living document through the use of dark majiks from before the time of this universe… and it chooses where it will be when it wants to be there.”

“Are you suggesting the Al Azif is… alive?” says Julia slowly.

“To answer your question….” Constantine nods.

Adam speaks. “But we haven’t been gathered here by the Baron to just locate a stolen book.. There’s more…” Jack’s eyes fall on Constantine. “You say the book chooses where it will be and when… are you suggesting the Al Azif somehow wanted this person who stole it to find it… for what purpose?”

Constantine shrugs. “I don’t know mate. I’m guessing that’s what Winters has gathered you blokes together to uncover. Me, I’m just the deliverer of bad news.” He grins. “And provider of fill-ins. I’ve got other things on my plate right now and can’t join you on this holiday.”

Constantine then moves over towards Baron Winters and puts out his hand.

Baron Winters nods and waves his hand gesturing from Zadok to Constantine.

Zadok Grimm reaches into his vest and hands John Constantine an envelope. The occultist opens the envelope and pulls out what looked like a pair of tickets.

Constantine gives a lop-sided grin. Holding the tickets up he says, “Pink Turns Blue tickets. I’ve got a convention to attend to.”

And with that Constantine walks out of the library.

Julia and Adam look at one another. Adam shrugs as he pours Julia another cup of coffee and then one for himself.

“At least he didn’t invite us.”

Julia nods before sipping from her cup. “No kidding. This is over the top as is.”

Jack Gold stamps out his cigarette and turns towards Baron Winters.

“So let me get this right. We’re looking for the original version of the Necronomicon – the Al Azif. Other than being alive, what makes the Al Azif any more dangerous than any other copy of the Necronomicon?”

Baron Winters looks at Jack Gold for a moment before answering the reporter.

“The Necronomicon and all copies thereafter are nothing more than translations of numerous incantations and arcane rituals that enable a person to call upon demonic entities or evil spirits to do their bidding. They are but extravagant automobiles without gas – So much potential but in need have fuel to operate.” The Baron looks at the Kadmonds and Vanessa Van Helsing before continuing. “The Al Azif on the other hand is a tome of pure evil and chaos. The very blood that spells out the incantations and rituals within its pages draw upon those dark and malevolent majiks that bound it together. It is literally power incarnate – Chaos magic’s of the most vile and corruptive. For not only is the magic alive within the very writings of the tome itself, but it takes control of he who calls upon its power, uses the controlled to perform the evils within its pages, and in most cases to extents that a rational mind would never consider, and then turns on he who called it forth. In comparison Mr. Gold, the Al Azif is like the previous car I mentioned, but without fuel restrictions and possessed without compassion for mankind!”

“Are you saying we’ve got a nuclear powered Christine on our hands?” says Jack verily shaking. “Do you have any idea who might be powerful or crazy enough to think he or she could use this thing without bringing his own demise?”

Just then the pounding of the door knocker can be heard coming from down the hall. Zadok exits the room.

“I believe your questions are about to be answered, Mr. Gold,” says Baron Winters.

Jack, Vanessa, Julia, and Adam look at one another in anticipation. Several minutes pass before Zadok returns to the library. With him comes an elegant looking woman in her mid-30s. She looks regal in her manner as she allows Zadok to take her coat.

Black lustrous hair falls down from under her scarf as a single white lock of hair frames the dark blue eyes and red lips that accentuate the Germanic features of her face. The woman is both a vision of sensuousness and intellectual intensity if ever there has been one. There is no doubt she is of a line of enigmatic blood.

Baron Winters stands and bows to the woman before gesturing for her to take a seat in the chair opposite him. He then introducs the woman.

“Allow me to introduce you to the person for whom I have brought you all together for.... Jack Gold... Vanessa Van Helsing.. Adam and Julia Kadmond...”

The four members of the Baron’s newly assembled Night force face the woman with anticipation.

“Meet, Victoria Von Frankenstein.”

Zadok pours hot tea into a cup and hands it to the regal woman. She sips from her cup before looking up at the others in the room.

“I will begin by introducing myself. As the Baron said, my name is Victoria Von Frankenstein. I am the last descendent of the Frankenstein line of which you are familiar through the writings of Mary Godwin-Shelly. Despite the general belief that her work was a piece of fiction, I am here to tell you myself that the story is true -- minus a few omissions.”

“Oh Hell…” grumbles Jack. “What’s next – the damned Wolfman going to show up on the doorstep?”

Victoria gives the reporter a knowing look as she takes another sip from her cup.

Jack swallow hard as his eyes dart around the room abashed. Saying nothing he quickly lights another cigarette and sits back in the sofa.

“When my ancestor, Baron Victor Von Frankenstein, conducted his infamous experimentations in the late 1800s, he consulted the writings of outdated theories of science that focused on achieving natural wonders, particularly those of Cornelius Agrippa, Paracelsus, and Albertus Magnus, as stated by Shelley; But what Shelley failed to note in detail was the exact texts of these men Victor employed.”

Julie’s hand grips Adam’s. In a hushed voiced she says, “I got a bad feeling where this is leading.”

Adam nods slowly in agreement as he stays focused on Victoria’s tale.

“It appears that one of the books written by a young Albert of Cologne was a copy of the Necronomicon. It has been speculated that he was the first to translate the forbidden text from Greek into Latin around the year 1220.”

Victoria bites her lip momentarily before continuing.

“Some Occult Orders believe it was this translation and realization of what he had done, that led Albert into the Dominican Order in 1221 or 1223 where he would later be known as Albertus Magnus.”

“An account by Rudolph de Novamagia refers to Albertus' encounter with the blessed Virgin Mary as being the reason he entered the Holey Order.,” says Adam matter-of-factly. “But considering his participation in the transcription of the Necronomicon, it might be that he joined the holy order seeking to repent after coming to the realization he had delivered a great evil into the hands of mankind.”

“He wrote a number of letters to Pope Gregory IX during his time teaching in Bologna”, says Julia lifting a cup to her lips, “which subsequently lead to the Pope’s banning of the text in Greek and Latin in 1232”.

Jack Gold squashes out his cigarette and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. Letting out a deep breath he says, “What is it with you two?” looking at the Kadmonds. “You guys know something about everything. Do you ever leave the library?”

Julia and Adam smile. In union they say, “Only to watch Jeopardy.”

Jack’s face takes on a look of resignation. “Fuckin’ A…” he sighs.

Victoria raises an eyebrow to the interactions of Jack and the Kadmonds. She issn’t sure what to think of them just yet, but she isn’t green to the occult and those who travel its roads. These people are different, but not as strange as some she has met.

“At some point it appears that Victor found a copy of the translations and invoked the powers within to create…” Victoria pauses. “And through a manner lost somewhere between science and sorcery, had managed to bring life to that which was dead.”

“The Frankenstein Monster,” injects Adam pointedly.

Victoria nods her head.

“He calls himself Deucalion, after the Greek son of Prometheus, the Titan most known for his giving fire to mankind. He is known to the world at large as the monster made famous by Shelly, though primarily as a work of fiction. He is nothing like Hollywood has portrayed him as being. It is true what Shelley wrote of his rampage of murder, his killing of Victor’s wife, and eventual patricide of Victor himself, but it has been a long time since then, and Deucalion has long since suffered for his crimes and paid the appropriate penance.” Victoria pauses for a moment as if gathering her words carefully. “Deucalion has been a friend and colleague to me for some time. He has a place to call home at my castle in Ingolstadt, Bavaria. It is not uncommon for him to disappear for several days at a time without notice. He is of a wandering spirit. But for him to have left in the manner he did, I knew something was wrong.

“I was heading up to my room after a long nights research in the lab. A cup of tea had warmed me from the coolness of the castle stone. I was about mid-way up the stairs when I heard a wailing coming from outside. I recognized it as being Deucalion’s, and quickly made my way to the front door with a flashlight in hand. At first I found nothing until his painful pleas of agony came again and again, which I followed and found myself witness to a horrific sight!

“In the back courtyard where Deucalion had his personal quarters, I was stunned to find my friend in mortal combat with demoniac creatures, some of which were ripping him apart physically, and others attempting to steal his soul.

“All of a sudden something happened. Deucalion’s grayish skin suddenly turned white and veined… his eyes turned from dark brown to opaque and catoracted orbs. He looked at me and smiled… but that smile was not the friendly smile of my friend… but one of vile wickedness… I fled for the castle and bolted myself inside. For the rest of the evening the creature that inhabited Deucalion’s body pounded relentlessly at the front doors of the castle. It spoke in strange tongues and voices about stealing my soul and the end of mankind. But before the sun rose, it all stopped – the pounding… the voices… everything. When I worked up the courage to venture outside I could see that Deucalion was nowhere in sight. He had just disappeared. That is when I contacted Baron Winters. I knew if anybody could help me in tracking down Deucalion, he could.”

“Awe! You have got to be kidding me!” says Jack Gold. “Are you trying to tell me whoever stole the book has used it to control the Frankenstein monster!?!”

Baron Winters speaks and all in the room listens intently.

“Victer’s creation was given life by spells and majiks from a translation of the Necronomicon. And as accurate was the translation, as well as how accurate was Victor’s casting of the necessary spells, it is forever connected to the majik which spawned it.

“That majik is eternally linked to the source from whence it comes. As a result it appears that whoever has obtained the Al Azif, has begun to cast incantations of the most dark and chaotic.

“One of the vilest is that of the demon resurrection. Through a direct summoning by way of the Al Azif it is legend that a vast army of darkness can be summoned – and what better leader for such an army than the possessed form of one of the most powerful undead, Victer Frankenstein’s patchwork creation? This can only mean that whoever has the dreaded tome has grander intentions. As such we should waste no time in uncovering the identity of our adversary and put an end to his insidious ruse before it is too late.”

The Baron looks at Victoria Frankenstein. “Do you happen to have something on you that is personal to Deucalion?”

Victoria draws her attentions to that of the wizard.

“I am clairvoyant. The more personal the item the better the connection,” adds Vanessa who has sat quietly until now.

Victoria reaches behind her head and unclasps a gold chain. She holds out her hand to let the object dangle loosely through her fingers for everyone to see.

“It’s beautiful,” says Vanessa as her fingers trace the gentle carvings of the ruby pendent that is shaped like that of a small Teddy Bear. “This is Deucalion’s?”

Victoria shakes her head. “No. He made that for me. It took him several months to sculpt it. A gift he gave me for my birthday.”

Baron Winters reaches out with his hands to Julia Kadmond who sits at his right and Jack Gold who sits at his left.

“Let us join hands - Miss Van Helsing you stand in the center of the ring - With my magic I shall connect our minds enabling us to observe that which you uncover.”

The group joins hands as the Baron instructs. In the center of the circle Vanessa nods as she takes the gem-shaped bear into her hands. She closes her eyes then pulls her hands to her chest. She focuses all her concentration into the pendent.

As the blonde-haired psychic breaths rhythmically, Baron Winters uses his power of telepathy to tap into the woman’s mind, where he then transmits those images into the minds of those encircled.

~The darkness slowly gives way to a shadowy gloom. Like a hazy dreamscape the dim begins to give way to shapes and forms.~

~The room is small. Inside there is nothing but a bed of straw to lie upon. Deucalion stands silent in the dark, his eyes staring out through a barred portal in the heavy banded oak door.~

~Vanessa moves through the room and through the door. She looks down the hall and sees two other doors. There is a croaking voice coming from the last on the left. She moves closer to investigate but is repelled by a burst of black majiks and the agonizing screams of a man.~

~Vanessa quickly moves up the stairs at the end of the hall opposite the horrors implied at the other. She moves through darkness as only the senses can when freed from limitations of the flesh.~

~Up. Up. Up. She travels wraithlike through the foundation. Up through the floors. Up through the roof and into the night skies.~

~Up above a small cabin in the southern mountains of Tennessee.~

~The shadows from the woods below writhe and combine to take form. A giant hand of darkness reaches out from the trees and seeks to grasp that which watches.~

Vanessa screams. Her lithe body drops to the floor as Jack and Adam quickly rush to her side to offer aid.

Jack looks at Adam. “What the Hell was that thing?”

Adam merely shakes his head as he lifts Vanessa’s head up to face him. “Are you all right?”

Vanessa pushes the two men away as she slowly gets to her feet. Looking at Baron Winters she says, “The evil... so much evil.... You saw...”

Baron Winters says nothing as he eyes the girl. For several moments the occultist remains silent before turning to Zadok Grimm and saying: “Ready the van. Everyone pack up and prepare to head out. A great evil has once again been unleashed upon the world.”

A prison somewhere underground...

The man in black lies in a heap beside his open grimoire as well. But unlike the hero, the man in black begins to stir and slowly makes his way to his feet amidst a cacophony of coughing and hacking up of blood riddled phlegm.

Reaching out to close the ancient and forbidden tome, the man in black is stilled by the image of his own hand. The once thin and crooked hands withered by the corruption of black magic’s no longer exist, as sinuous and gray hands of polished marble have replaced them. Moving closer to the torchlight he examines his hands and marveled at the vitality he now possesses in them.

Slowly the man in black raises his hands to his face beneath his hood and feels his features. The wrinkles of time and misfortune now smooth and firm like in the days of his youth. Further up he feels the protrusion of small horns from his forehead just below the widow’s peak of his long and lustrous hair.

A wicked grin cuts across the man’s still shrouded face as he licks his lips with anticipation. Reaching out with both hands he commands in a deep and rasping tone: “Come to me!”

From a point in the darkness beyond the fallen body of Blue Devil a fiery form combusts into being. Brimstone consumes the dank mildew of the air as a seven foot trident sails through the dim and into the hands of the man in black.

Red eyes accompanied by yellowed grinning teeth can be seen under the man in black’s hood as his knuckles whiten from the tightness upon which he holds the trident.

“At last!” croaks the man in black. “The Trident of Lucifer! Such power is mine to command! And soon... so much more! The power of the universe!”

For several minutes the man in black merely muses to himself of victories to come before kneeling down and securing the magical grimoire within its bindings and leaving the room.

As the man in black makew his way towards the stairs a voice comes from an iron bound door to his right. The voice is deep and gravelly like rusty iron on cement.

“This darkness you use will consume you. In your quest for power you will only find torment and self-destruction.”

The man in black stopps moving. The low sound of a mocking chuckle can be heard coming from under his hood.

“You seek to gain your freedom through an appeal to my conscience – some idea that I might repent for the salvation of my soul?”

“One must have a soul to repent for,” says the man behind the door. “I was stating a fact.”

The man in black laughs. “We will see my friend... we will see. Remember who you speak to – I have lived for nearly 7,000 years. Have witnessed the rise and fall of nations. I have watched religions come and go. I have watched men reach near godhood and I have witnessed men play god....” The man in black hangs on these last words as if making a point. “What you say to me has been said before and yet I am still here but older and more knowing... and now more powerful!” He pauses. “But there is still power to be tapped... and you my friend are going to help me attain that power. Once I have nourished this new body and let it rest I shall return and you shall play your part in my ascension into godhood! My conquest of the universe!”

“Men such as you always hunger for power...” says the man behind the door. “But so few lack the wisdom to harness it.”

“Silence fool!” hisses the man in black. “I will not be taunted by the likes of you! You are merely a pawn on a chessboard! As have you always been since your maker gave life to you! Who are you to talk to me of such things when I am the one who holds the tapestry of your life in my hands?”

The man behind the door says nothing. He merely gazes at the man in black with knowing eyes.

The man in black grins wickedly feeling once again in a position of power.

Then, without a sound, he turns from the door and makes his way up the stairs leaving his captives once again in the darkness.

The Hills of Tennessee
November 6

A stretch of highway curves along the base of a mountain. The road winds off into oblivion beyond other peaks. From a distance the rumble of an engine can be heard. It is a large logging truck headed south. Moving away, the truck becomes smaller until finally it disappears in the distance. From where the truck emerges, a blue and gray Chevy minivan comes into view.

Inside, six people can be seen. They are Zadok and Victoria, and couples Adam and Julia, Jack and Vanessa.

Zadok is driving and Victoria sits next to him up front. Adam, Julia, Jack, and Vanessa are in back.

“Mr. Kadmond, where are we?” asks Zadok.

“Let me see… we're still on seventy-five just past the county border...”

A dark and brooding force stops atop a forest ridge to peer downward. Its view focuses upon the minivan speeding along the narrow highway below.

Adam traces a route on the map with his finger.

Jack, sitting in the back of the minivan with Vanessa and craving a cigarette, grows impatient.

“Which would put us...” Adam zeroes in on the map with his finger. “...Right...”

Jack snarls. “Yes?”

“Here!” exclaims Adam jabbing his finger into the map.

Suddenly, the steering wheel jerks from Zadok’s hand. The car screeches out of control into the opposite lane. A large oncoming logging truck with its horn screaming races toward the car on a collision course.

“Zadok, watch out!” yells Victoria.

The truck races closer. Zadok finds the steering wheel is locked.

Jack grips his seat and yells, “Turn!”

Zadok grunts with frustration as he tries to turn the wheel. At the last possible instant, he finds the wheel can once again be controlled, and he swerves the car sharply back into the right lane.

The truck speeds harmlessly past them with horn blaring.

“Damn it Zadok, what the hell was that? You trying to kill us?” spits Jack.

Zadok looks into the rear view mirror and scowls. Maintaining his civility he replies. “Don't yell at me, Mr. Gold. It was the steering wheel. It jerked right out of my hands.”

Vanessa holds herself – a chill overcoming her. “It’s watching us.”

Julia turns to look at the younger woman.

“Who’s watching us, hon?”

Vanessa squeezes her eyes shut and slowly shakes her head.

“The Evil.”

Julia looks out the window of the minivan as she pats the girl’s knee.

The car approaches an exit along the highway. Adam glances at the map again.

“Hey, I think this is where we get off.”

The minivan turns off the main highway and follows several back roads until it approaches a narrow dirt lane that winds upward along a twin set of mountains. The sun is now resting on the horizon as the woods on either side of the road begin to darken and a thin fog begins to take form.

For several minutes the vehicle travels towards its destination before it finally slows and pulls to a halt.

Zadok steps quietly from the car. He looks out at the sight in front of him. Victoria gasps as she opens her door and begins to climb out; her amazement at the scene before her bringing the Countess pause.

“What’s up?” asks Julia as the two exit the vehicle.

“What the Hell now?” says Jack Gold irritably. “Fer Christ’s sake, let me out so I can have a smoke at least!”

Adam opens the sliding door and steps out. The others follow, Jack grumbling as he climbs out last. Jack instantly lights up a cigarette.

“Oh my,” ssays Julia as she grasps her husband’s arm. “What could have done this?”

“Done what?” spits Jack venomously. Looking over at the Kadmond he sees Vanessa pointing sixty feet in front of them. Jack’s eyes grow wide, his cigarette almost falling from his slackened jaw. “What In Hell?”

All stand in the bright glare of the lights as the fog swirls about them.

Adam and Julia gape in frightened wonder at what they see.

The piercing beams of light from the minivan illuminate a road sign: "DANGEROUS BRIDGE - 2 TON WEIGHT LIMIT - CROSS AT OWN RISK".

Behind the sign a GIANT STEEL HAND LOOMS towards the weary travelers. It is the twisted remains of the steel and wood bridge that once crossed the great mountain chasm beyond.

Zadok peers at the uncrossable chasm. He reaches into a pocket inside his jacket and pulls out a piece of folded paper. Opening it he lets his eyes pore over its contents before rifling through some bushes to the left of the bridge.

He looks over his shoulder and says to the others, “Unpack the vehicle and get ready to hike. The rest of our journey is going to be on foot.”

Zadok then looks to the west. The sun is now resting on the horizon, lower than it was before. It is BLOOD RED. A scowl of worry etched upon his face.

Zadok leads the Night Force down the narrow Cliffside of the chasm. The map given to him by a townsperson where they had stopped for one final gas fill-up has provided the information readily enough when asked.

“It used to be a favorite hunting ground for local folk for generations; but unfortunately place seems to be devoid of life for the past six or so years. As if something evil was in those woods preying on the very life of the forest itself!” The man had paused beforetaking on a more angry tone. “I ‘spect it has more to do with the government though. Probably messin’ ‘round wit some o’dat radiation stuff. Dern’t give a damned if’n they kill us all if’n you knows what I mean.”

Zadok has been happy for the man that he believed the latter – the truth would have horrified him.

Using his sword to cut back extra growth through the deserted hunting path in order for the others to easily follow, Zadok contemplate the mission ahead of them and to what ends they will come to serve his master. And as his eyes continue to watch to the west he secretly worries whether he and the others will find out before they find themselves trapped in the forest after the sun set.

Behind Zadok follows Jack Gold. With backpack in place and a Remington 12 gauge shotgun in hand and loaded with slugs, the reporter is ready to shoot first and ask questions later.

Behind Jack follows Vanessa Van Helsing. Clad in a black ensemble of turtleneck shirt and jeans, the young woman follows closely after Jack. She isn’t a lover of guns, and as such does not know how to use one safely.

“I sense we are getting closer… the evil is almost tangible.”

Victoria Von Frankenstein walks behind Vanessa. She is garbed in modern safari gear. With her backpack securely fastened in place, she too holds firmly to a shotgun loaded with slugs. She has faced big enemies before.

In the rear of the group follow the Kadmonds, Adam and Julia. Jack holds a .44 Magnum in his hands. He is wishing he felt safer with the weapon, but he knows it is his backpack that holds the real weapons of which he is an expert.

Julia also holds a pistol in her hand. She is rather good at using a handgun since she tends to spend time at the firing range once or twice a week. She has wished Adam would do the same, but he is more into reading and studying other aspects of their experience such as the natural sciences and ritual casting. She prays both their skills will not be put to the test.

The journey from the road down the chasm and then back up to the other side takes roughly an hour. Another 20 minutes later they find themselves standing before a small dark cabin in the woods.

The structure looks run down and the land around it eerily alive with overgrowth. Around the Baron’s Night force a maddening silence hangs in the darkness rising from the dim of the setting sun.

“We’re here,” says Jack in a throated whisper. “What now?”

“It’s too late,” says Vanessa as she looked around frantically. “They’re all around us… “

“Who’s all around us?” asks Julia Kadmond as she places a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

Zadok looks around and draws in a deep breath. "By the right hand of the eternal!"

As the rest of the Night force turn to look at Zadok they are instantly drawn to the man’s dilemma.

A flurry of snake like vines lift up from off the ground and come to life about the ancient warrior. Two living vines wind their way toward his legs and coil around his ankles tightly. Before Zadok can hack at the animated growths he finds himself further ensnared by the living vines which wound around his torso and chest in a furious coiling motion.

Jack Gold starts towards Zadok to assist but finds himself captured by a living vine as it wraps around his throat and pulls him to the ground.

Then, all at once, the entire forest becomes alive in a flurry of chaotic noises and movement. Snake-like vines wrap around the other members of the Night Force starting with their ankles and quickly slither up their legs. Tree branches nearby begin to claw and rake at them.

“It’s too late!” cries Vanessa. “It’s too late!” She screams before the living vines wrap around her face and begin to pull her away towards the dilapidated cabin.

Adam Kadmond pulls at the vines around his throat to cry out to the girl but is able to say nothing under the powerful grip of the animated foliage.

His eyes widen in horror as he witnesses an animated tree beat its branches furiously upon the exterior wall of the cabin. It rips apart the cabin's stone chimney giving him a view of the distorted face it now bares.

Victoria Von Frankenstein finds herself being violated by finger-like vines. A terrifying tree face on the surface of a giant oak is revealed, as it leers at her with sinister intent. She screams. She turns toward her left at a loud thumping sound. There she sees a second gnarled tree slamming its trunk against the rear door of the cabin. She is struck with fear as it reveals an even more horrific tree face. Victoria tries to scream out but finds herself succumbing to the power of the vines as they wrap around her head and drag her writhing body towards the cabin.

The cabin is surrounded by a group of lumbering oaks, all working to destroy what is left of the old building. As the possessed trees continue their assault other members of the Night Force are ensnared by the forest growth. Vanessa. Jack. Zadok. Victoria. Adam. All pulled cocooned in vines into the center of the quickly defunct structure.

As the trees continue their assault, a bubbling smoke appears, then flame, through a break in the earth beneath the cabin. Red mists jut upwards as if something deep within the ground is groaning as if suddenly awakened from some dark and eternal sleep.

The leaves and other loose matter of the forest begin to move as the wind picks up. Through the smoke, the beginnings of a winding spiral of the red mists take form.

Julia sees through horror filled wide eyes as a giant rift appears from nowhere. Her heart pumps violently as she hears the terrifying roar of the vacuum being created by the mystical whirlpool that pulls her towards its center.

She feels the rift grow more powerful as it pulls in the boulders and trees that surround the cabin.

Julia Kadmond screams as she plummets into the center of the rift. She spins wildly into the darkness of the vortex.

And through the sounds of the rushing winds -- she swears she can make out laughter.

To be continued in Blue Devil #1!

Author’s Note: Many thanks to H. P. Lovecraft and Sam Raimi for their influences to get this story underway. I’d also like to thank Monica Friedmanfor her friendship and editing skills for assisting in my lousy tensing revisions and Dale Glaser for his tips and suggestions