:
THE MAID OF STEEL
ANNUAL # 3

The Genoa Park Horror

Written By Paul Daimler

* This issue takes place directly after Supergirl:The Maid of Steel #33

February 23rd, 1957:

A storm raged outside, thunder and lightning tearing the sky as the roar of the rain drowned out all sound.

In Apartment 242, Lisa Didio was watching the rain from her window, as her mother Gina cooked dinner. Somewhere, from deeper in the apartment building, there was a crashing sound—muffled and discordant.

"Listen to that thunder crash." Gina said. "It sounds like it's getting worse out there."

"It is coming down like cats and dogs, Ma." Lisa said quietly. "I don't know if that was thunder."

"What else would it be?" Gina asked pleasantly.

"I don't know." Lisa shrugged. "I just have a bad feeling. It didn't sound right."

"You and your bad feelings." Gina laughed. "You're so silly. Your Father will be home soon. In fact, I saw him parking the car through the kitchen window less than a minute ago."

"I hope." Lisa said quietly.

"You have been moping about since your brother left for Europe." Gina said. "You should be enjoying this time without him. And maybe now without your brother here to follow around, you can start behaving like a proper fifteen year old girl and start helping your mother out."

"Things have been odd since Gideon left." Lisa replied, not sure what she meant precisely.

There were more thunder crashes, this time closer and sounding even less like thunder.

"It sounds like gunfire…" Lisa whispered.

When the pounding on the door started, Lisa's blood turned cold.

"Will you get that honey?" Gina called from the kitchen, stirring the soup.

"No." Lisa shook her head vehemently, her blonde curls bouncing wildly with the motion.

The knocking continued. Lisa sat and looked at the door, not moving from her perch in front of the window. She felt like she wanted to cry.

"Lisa? Will you get the door?" Gina said, poking her head in.

"No." Lisa said.

Gina sighed, "Lisa! Answer the door!"

"No." Lisa shook her head. "We don't want to answer that."

In exasperation, Gina stalked from the kitchen heading toward the front door.

"MA! Don't answer the door!" Lisa leapt to her feet, rushing toward her mother, trying to stop her.

"Lisa. Stop being so dramatic." Gina grimaced as she pulled open the door.

The door swung open to reveal the barrel of a shotgun. Behind the shotgun stood a man in dark robes, wearing a black hood. From the eye-holes, his eyes flashed dark and foreboding, even though there was something familiar about them. Something Lisa couldn't quite place.

"NO!" Lisa screamed.

Gina turned just in time to see the shotgun barrel flare as it tore her face off.

"MOTHER!" Lisa screamed, as the shotgun turned toward her.

RUN! RUN! RUN! A voice in Lisa's head shouted.

But, Lisa couldn't move. Her feet were rooted in place, her eyes frozen on her mother's slack bloody form on the floor. Somewhere behind her, in the bedroom, she could hear the twins crying and she wanted to go to them—hold them, protect them. For a brief instance she pictured blocking their small soft bodies with her own. But, it was an image beneath the scream ripping from her own lips and one that did not last but a few seconds.

Her eyes met the eyes of the hooded man and her scream stopped.

"Gideon?" She whispered as a cold calm suddenly filled her.

Silence suddenly filled the room, pushing the twins screaming and crying in the next room further and further away.

The silence ended abruptly moments after a crashing explosion of the shotgun.

The trashed apartment had been the first indication that something had gone very wrong. The fact there appeared to be blood stains only compounded the fact. Add those two factors to Dick Malverne not being here, when he should be, and the only logical conclusion was that something was very wrong.

Linda Danvers had been convinced of this even before she'd discovered the thick file under Dick's ruined suede jacket. The file was filled with clippings and print-outs detailing her apartment building and the series of murders that had occurred in her apartment over a period of years.

"Dick?" She called hestitantly. Linda hugged the file close to her chest, the horrors within, barely glimpsed when she'd opened it, seemed to burn against her chest. She poked her head into the bedrooms and the bathroom. There was no sign of Dick, and no sign that whatever happened had strayed very far from the living room.

There was a knock on the front door and Linda felt a quiet tremor ripple through her. Why was she so afraid? She was Supergirl and an Earth-bound Angel. She was one of the most powerful and strongest people in the Universe—in several Universes. If anything, whoever was knocking on the door should be afraid of her.

Still Linda stood there, staring at the door. Even as the knocking continued.

"I know you're in there Linda." A weird flat voice came from the other side of the door.

It belonged to the weird girl from the other night. The one who had tried to talk to her when she was leaving to save her family and friends from Phillip Decker. She'd been hearing about the strange girl—with her shortly cropped hair and camouflage pants since Karrie had lived with her. Even Dick had mentioned her a time or two. The thick envelope, with Dick's handwriting and notes on the front and throughout indicated that the girl had made an impression on Dick as well.

"What do you want?" Linda called.

"I had wanted your help." The girl said mournfully. Her voice was somber and sounded as if she might cry. "But, it's too late now. Now it has begun. I don't even think that Supergirl can stop it."

"What are you talking about it?" Linda asked , moving toward the door. She hugged the envelope tighter to her chest.

"It's all in that file. Dick almost had it figured out." The girl laughed; it was a dry harsh sound. It sounded like the girl was insane.

Linda bit the corner of her lip, her eyes trained on the door separating her from the girl.

"Why am I so afraid?" Linda whispered.

"Because you could die. And Dick probably will die. Despite all your special powers and Heavenly gifts, you're still human somewhere in that flesh and protoplasmic body. And that human apart is afraid to die. Afraid to fail the man you love." The girl replied.

Linda did not reply. She hadn't imagined the girl would be able to hear her barely whispered words. Linda opened the folder, skimming over an article with gruesome accounts of murder and death in February 1957.

In it a family of five was hunted down and murdered by an unknown assailant with a shotgun, each of them brutally murdered and found dead. All of them living in this very apartment. Only the oldest son, Gideon Didio survived, and that was because he was out of town at the time.

"The first family murdered… their last name was Didio. Like my landlord…" Linda whispered, finishing the first stack of clippings and print-outs that Dick had paper-clipped together.

"One and the same."

"His father was the only survivor…" Linda shook her head.

"No. The Gideon Didio mentioned in those clippings is your landlord." The girl said through the door.

"It's impossible. According to these clippings Gideon Didio was nineteen years old in 1957. he looks like he's in his early to mid-forties." Linda shook her head. "Surely it's his son…"

"Come on Linda." The girl scoffed, "You've traveled through time. You house an Earth-bound Angel. You have encountered a myriad of alternate realities and universes. Surely it's easy to accept that your landlord could look far younger than his actual age. Magic and science alone explain that. What about your friend Mr. Decker? Or Miss America and her husband? They're still very young."

"How do you know all of this stuff?" Linda hissed.

"I can see all from this side." The girl replied. "Secrets are non-existent."

"But, that would make Mr. Didio… less than human. What is he?"

The girl laughed, "Consider for a moment the fact that there are others like you… others who work for the other side. Earth-Bound Demons if you will. And, have you aged a day physically since becoming an Angel?"

"Of course, I have." Linda snapped, then she paused. "I think." She hadn't noticed. It had only been a few years since she'd first became an Earth-Bound Angel. And, it wasn't like she was looking in the mirror for wrinkles and gray-hairs. She was in her early twenties for god's sake. And, even if she had noticed, she would have merely attributed it to Matrix. Matrix would have never grown old. Linda had never bothered thinking about it. There had been so many more important changes going on with her powers and origins.

"So, my landlord is some kind of Earth-Bound Demon?"

"Not yet. Not completely. But, he plans to merge tonight." The girl whispered. "The Carnivean requires thirteen souls in sacrifice to merge with a demon and become Earth-bound. Thirteen souls that are pure and noble."

Linda remembered what Wally had told her when explaining how she'd become host to the Earth-Bound Angel: "An Earth-Bound Angel is created when one being selflessly sacrifices him or herself to save another who is, in every way, beyond saving." The original Angel of Fire had bound Linda and Matrix and been reborn after many years of dormancy. Whenever Wally had reclaimed the Angel of Fire for his war against the Carnivean, a new angel had been born within the merged Linda/Matrix.

"Why would Didio do this?"

"He longs for the ultimate power and carnal delights. He desires more than his human flesh can provide. And, his twelfth victim will be your boyfriend. Tonight. Followed by the thirteenth sacrifice, which must be an Earth-Bound Angel." The girl said.

"He's using Dick as bait." Lind said, "To draw me to him. Hoping I'll sacrifice myself for Dick."

"And you will. But he'll kill Dick anyway. He needs Dick's pure brave soul."

"How do you fit in?" Linda asked.

"I was to be one of his sacrifices. The twelfth in fact. Ten years ago." The girl laughed coldly. "Didio didn't do his research, not realizing my soul was neither pure nor brave."

"Meaning?"

"I would have been the perfect candidate for an Earth-Bound Angel. Not a demon. Flawed. Beyond saving… much like Linda Danvers when you came across her dying body that night Buzz and his cultists were planning on sacrificing her. It's there in the file."

"I don't have time to read the file." Linda hissed, "Tell me."

"But, read it. Just read. I don't know if I could tell the story right."

"TELL ME!" Linda screamed through the door."

The girl laughed, "OK. I will tell you my tale. I was living in that apartment… 242 with my sister and her fiancé, and their roommate Piper…."

Piper White loved her new curtains. What she did not love was her roommate Beatrice's crazy sister crashing on the couch. The girl seriously gave Piper the creeps. Piper was aware that it was because she was aware of what was going on in Cynthia's life, but it was still creepy.

Finishing hanging the new curtains, she frowned, looking at her closed bedroom door. Before Cynthia had started couch surfing here, Piper had never closed her door until bed-time, or if Piper's boyfriend Steven was over. Since Cynthia had arrived, the door stayed closed.

Going over to her door, Piper lay her head against it. She could hear the TV, Cynthia was watching "Secret Hearts"—the girl's favorite soap opera. Cynthia was just so weird. She dressed in camouflage pants, ratty T-shirts, keeping her hair short spiky and bleached. If Beatrice hadn't told Piper that Cynthia had been married (if Piper hadn't seen that herself on the news), Piper would have thought Cynthia was a lesbian.

Married… Piper hadn't really wanted to believe it. But, Cynthia had shown her the photo albums, with all the wedding pictures. Wedding pictures that Piper had seen on the news. Of course, Cynthia wasn't married now. She was a widow.

Reading about it in the newspaper, Piper had been barely able to believe the Cynthia Stanley in the newspaper was the same girl sleeping on her couch.

The trial had ended with an acquittal, the jury had found there was plenty of reasonable doubt and not enough evidence to prove that Oliver Stanley hadn't died accidentally the day he'd drowned on Lake Midway.

Piper had no doubt that wasn't an accident. Cynthia had done it. Pushing her husband from the small boat, and hitting him the head with an oar. The air around Cynthia was charged with something dark and malevolent. Her expression and demeanor when she spoke about her dead husband were flat and emotionless, her voice hollow and insincere. She had done it. Piper couldn't prove it anymore than the prosecution had been able to prove it, but that didn't mean it wasn't so. Not Guilty did not mean innocent.

Piper heard the door open and Beatrice and Andy came into the apartment, arguing already. Piper wondered if Beatrice had noticed that she and Andy had started fighting constantly, and often over stupid things, almost as soon as Cynthia had moved in. Andy had noticed. Piper had talked to him about it last week, when he had confessed he wanted Cynthia gone.

Piper sighed, pulling her ear from the door. She could hear Andy and Beatrice's argument as clearly as if they were in the room with her. Maybe it was time to start looking for a new place and to find someone to move into her room and take over her spot on the lease. Maybe Cynthia would be interested. She did have all that insurance money, awarded once she was cleared of responsibility in her husband's death. The girl sleeping on their couch may have dressed like a homeless drug addict, but Cynthia Stanley was loaded. Her husband had been very generous in the insurance department.

Plopping down on her bed, Piper sprawled out, staring up at the ceiling. This was just far too stressful. And, she didn't like keeping her bedroom door closed all the time… nor locked at night when she slept.

Out in the living room, Piper heard a loud pounding on the door.

Sounds like the police. Piper thought. She muttered to herself, sitting up, "Maybe they've come to take her away."

Andy and Beatrice's argument stopped and silence filled the apartment. Then Piper heard screaming.

"OH MY GOD!" Andy shouted.

Piper recognized Cynthia as the person screaming, and Andy was still hollering. But, there was nothing from Beatrice. Rushing to her bedroom door, Piper pulled it open to find a horror show beyond.

Beatrice was laying on the floor, blood oozing from a deep slash in her neck. Her eyes were glazed over and wide open—all life gone from her, even as the blood drained from her—staining the carpet.

"Oh my God. Oh my God." Cynthia screamed, over and over. Her eyes were trained on her dead sister, the shenanigans of the characters on her soap opera flashed by on the TV unaware and uninterrupted by the terror unfolding.

Piper could see Andy fighting with a man in a black robe and hood. The man was trying to stab Andy with a large knife, but Andy had a tight grip on the man's hand and was holding him off. Piper watched helplessly as Andy and the man struggled. Piper's eyes went to the door—hanging wide open and ignored.

"Cynthia." Piper tried to get the girl's attention. But, Cynthia continued to scream, staring at Beatrice's dead body.

Creeping by, Piper's eyes went to the cordless phone by the open door. Piper reached the phone, grabbing it from it's base and dashing out the door. Running down the hallway, she didn't stop until she reached the stairwell that opened onto the entry way down below. The landlord Mr. Didio had told them that entry way had once been a living room when this building was a mansion.

Quickly, Piper dialed 911, pushing the buttons quickly and waiting for the call to connect.

"Midway City 911. This is operator Kelly. What's your emergency?" The woman's voice was calm and smooth, but did nothing to calm or soothe Piper.

"There's a man wearing a black hood in my apartment. He has a knife. My roommate…" Piper stopped, feeling as though she were about to loose control.

"What about the man in the black hood?" The voice was cold and cruel, and Piper recognized it just as the black gloved hand snatched the phone from her hand. Hanging it up, tossing it aside so that it smashed into the wall.

Piper screamed as his dark cold eyes stared at her from the eye slits.

In the apartment far away, Piper could hear Cynthia still screaming, her screams loud and shrill and hysterical. The girl must have lost her mind.

"Mr. Didio." Piper whispered recognizing her landlord's voice and cold eyes.

"Smart girl. You would have been smarter if you'd kept running instead of stopping here to call 911." He hissed.

"NO!" She screamed as his lifted the knife into the air. The knife had a smooth polished black handle encrusted with designs and jewels that she couldn't make sense of.

"242." The man said, "EVERYONE DIES!"

Piper threw her hands up to shield her face, but his knife sliced through her hands on the first strike as though they were made of butter.

As screamed, taking a step back. With a swipe of the blade, the flesh of Piper's neck cut straight through. Blood splattered Mr. Didio. And, Piper staggered back, falling down the stairs, tumbling end over end.

Landing badly, Piper felt the life draining away from her. She looked up, seeing the black hood swimming in her sights very far away, as blood droplets stained her vision. Those cold shiny eyes peered down at her for a very long time, as she felt dizzy and as though her head was spinning. It was a little like being drunk, right before throwing up.

The black hood disappeared, as the man left the top of the stairs—moving toward apartment 242 where Cynthia Stanley continued to scream hysterically.

When he entered the apartment, slamming the door behind him, Piper White was already dead.

"After he killed Piper, he came back for me." Cynthia said quietly. "I was still screaming, crying, and rocking back and forth on the couch, looking at Andy and Beatrice's dead bodies. I'd watched him kill both of them. Sitting there doing nothing while Andy fought, trying to stop him after he'd killed Beatrice. Maybe if I'd done something, Piper would have escaped. But, even if I had, I still wouldn't have been much use to him."

"Because he needed someone brave and pure. And, you'd killed your husband." Linda whispered. "So you were neither thing."

"Yes." The girl said. "I was acquitted by a jury, got the insurance money, and was crashing with my sister until it would look OK for me to move in with my girlfriend Darielle. But, that didn't mean I didn't do it. It just made me Not Guilty by reasonable doubt. Two very different things. Just ask OJ Simpson."

"Why are you still here? The others aren't haunting the halls of this building." Linda asked.

"Because of the dark magic enchanting the blade he killed me with—designed to capture souls for him to reach his thirteen required, I am stuck here. My flawed soul can't leave, and can't join the other souls he has collected, I haunt these halls… unable to leave this building. Not until Didio is dead. If he succeeds, he will live forever, and I will be trapped here forever, his slave for all eternity."

"But, if you're free…" Linda hesitated. "Won't you go to Hell?"

Cynthia Stanley laughed, "I've been in Hell all of these years. What's left? Save freedom from this plane. I am ready to face whatever awaits. Even if it means burning for an eternity in a lake of fire. At least that would be my Hell. The end to my choices and deeds. Rather than a Hell of his creation."

Linda pulled the door open, looking into the dark dead eyes of the ghost standing at her door.

"Take me to Dick." She said, transforming from Linda to Supergirl. "I've heard enough."

"As you wish." Cynthia smiled. The expression was terrible on thin colorless, ravaged by chapped frayed skin.

Supergirl followed Cynthia through the dark corridors of the massive apartment building.

"Originally, when Genoa Park was where only the wealthy lived, this apartment building was a mansion. But, during the Great Depression, it's owner Edgar Maxwell sold off the massive grounds—which were raised and built upon. Apartments, townhouses, and businesses sprung up all around it. Then as the pinch continued, Maxwell turned the West Wing of his mansion into an apartment building." Cynthia said softly, her battered military boots making not a sound against the hardwood floors of the corridor.

"Maxwell left everything to his daughter Gina and her husband Anthony Didio. They lived in the remains of the mansion housed in the East Wing, where their son Gideon Didio would grow up. Eventually Anthony and Gina would move into apartment 242 with their children Gideon and Lisa, and the twins Patty and Peter." Cynthia said as they came to a door at the end of the corridor that extended past the offices the buildings' main entrance opened into.

Supergirl had never been down this hallway. She only knew that her landlord lived in this part of the building.

"After Gideon murdered his family, he moved back into the East Wing with his grandfather. When died in the 1960's, he left everything to Gideon. In the 1960's there were two more brutal murders in 242, which had remained empty since Didio's family died. It was around this time, that Didio stopped renting out all of the apartments, leasing out to fewer and fewer people. In the 1980's, there was another brutal series of murders. Two nursing students from Midway City University were killed. Then, ten years ago, he killed my sister, her friends, and me. After that, he rented nothing out. He had his twelve, he only needed a thirteenth to be the final victim and house him and the merged demon. He only advertised for 242, knowing that eventually the right person would come along." Cynthia said quietly. "And you did. When Starman and you first moved in, he thought he'd hit the jackpot. Starman's form was otherworldly, and you were the Earth-Bound Angel."

They came to a door at the end of the hallway.

"Welcome to Hell." Cynthia whispered, pushing the door open.

The smell of sulfur and brimstone washed over Supergirl, accompanied by a puff of warm stifling air.

Cynthia allowed Supergirl to enter, slamming the door shut behind her.

Supergirl and Cynthia followed dark corridors, going deeper and deeper into the East Wing. The stench and heat grew more intense the deeper they went.

Finally they came to another door.

"I'm sorry." Cynthia whispered. "I wish I could have gotten through to you sooner. Maybe we could have stopped him."

"It's OK." Supergirl replied, "We can still stop him."

"I hope." Cynthia whispered. She then pushed the door open.

Supergirl slipped into the massive room, it's high ceilings misty in the harsh darkness punctuated by flickering red, orange, and yellow light. Large cauldrons of foul boiling liquid sat in each corner of the room, spewing smoke and stench into the darkened room, create a hazy fog throughout.

At the far end of the room, wearing a black robe and hood, stood a man holding a ceremonial staff.

"Welcome Earth-Bound Angel to the end of your existence." The man's voice was easily recognizable as Supergirl's landlord Gideon Didio. He laughed maniacally.

That's when Supergirl's eyes fell on Dick Malverne, stripped down to his briefs and bound to a cross near where Gideon stood. Dick was unconscious, with cuts on his face, bruises darkening his cheeks and under his eyes. Deep incisions in the palms of his hands leaked blood, which ran down his wrists and outstretched arms in red rivers.

"Tonight you and your boyfriend die—your souls joining the rest of my collection, and your angel essence ushering the Earth-Bound Demon's journey from Hell into this body." Gideon said.

"Like Hell." Supergirl said, the angel-fire exploding from her back and eyes.

"Nice display of powers. But, it's going to take more than that…" Gideon said. "I've been building my mystical knowledge for years. Studying, collecting."

"Awesome." Supergirl said, "Good to know you've been hitting the books."

Supergirl attempted to move, but found herself blocked by an unseen force.

"What?!" She said, smacking into an invisible wall.

"Surely Earth-Bound Angel… you've heard of the Keys of Solomon." Gideon laughed darkly, his eyes dark and lit with a hellish orange from the flickering flames filling the room. "Used to summon Angels and command them to do their bidding."

"Sounds familiar." Supergirl muttered, pressing against the invisible walls that were all around her suddenly. She'd walked into some sort of trap.

"If you look on the ground, you will see a sigil. An ancient sigil not available in the most texts that reproduce the Keys of Solomon. Few know of it's existence… just because it's so dangerous."

"English. Speak English." Supergirl said, her temper flaring. The fire exploding from her eyes only danced around the invisible walls surrounding her. She was trapped.

"The pattern I've drawn on the floor beneath you is a sigil Solomon used to trap the Angels he summoned. So that they would be more willing to do his bidding—since they would not be released unless he willed it." Gideon said. He moved across the room toward where Supergirl began to pound her fists against the walls. "You won't find the bindings punched through very easily."

"You better hope not." Supergirl growled, "Otherwise I'm going to fry you with my angel fire so fast you're head won't stop spinning until you're roasting in Hell."

Gideon laughed, "I won't roast in Hell. Once the Earth-Bound Demon arrives, he will fuse your boyfriend and I into one being—much like Linda and Matrix were combined. As an Earth-Bound Demon, I will live forever on Earth, ruling here and acting as a minion for Hell."

"You know that I'm going to get out of here and stop you don't you." Supergirl said quietly, trying to calm herself. The fire blazing from her and the roar of her own blood in her ears was making it difficult, but she was trying. "And, I'm going to burn you. To a crisp. You will be judged suitably."

Gideon laughed, "Some Angel."

"My Angel-Fire punishes the wicked." Supergirl growled, "I normally resist using it at all costs. But, for you… for you I'll make an exception."

"I'm honored that you would use your last breaths on this plane threatening me." Gideon said. "When the Earth-Bound Demon arrives, he will consume you and then he, your boyfriend, and I will join as one."

Supergirl watched Gideon as he walked away, making his way toward an altar.

Upon the altar several items were set up. On either side of the altar, black candles burned brightly.

"Am Dominius Elegris Turoniemy." Gideon chanted, sprinkling incense onto a small burner. More foul smoke began leaking into the air of the massive chamber. He lifted a dagger, dragging the blade across his forearm—drawing bright crimson blood.

"Are you able to help at all?" Supergirl asked Cynthia Stanley. The girl stood several feet away, near the door that they'd entered through.

"No. I'm just a ghost." Cynthia whispered. "I can't do anything. All I can do is talk."

"Is there a way out of this trap?" Supergirl asked quietly, her eyes going to Dick. His head was still slumped to the side. She hoped that he was at least having nice dreams as Hell unfolded around him.

"You can't move through it. The invisible walls exist all around you." Cynthia said quietly. "You can only go within."

"Within." Supergirl replied, thoughtfully.

From the smoke drifting from the incense burner, images and faces began to form. Soon three images were easily visible.

"Who summons the Earth-Bound Demon Three?"

"I, Gideon Didio. I have one who is brave and pure of heart. And I have captured an Earth-Bound Angel. I wish to be transformed into your vessel on Earth."

"Who do you call forth? The Demon of Hate? The Demon of Darkness? Or the Demon of Fire?"

"I call forth the Demon of Darkness." Gideon said. "Let the Angel of Fire be my first offering.

The Demon of Darkness stepped from the smoke, making it's way to where Supergirl stood trapped.

Smoke wafted from a body made of the dark clouds of pungent incense.

"This is not the Angel of Fire… Not the one we have fought in the past. Nor is the Angel of Fire that lived within this sack of flesh until recently. The angel reabsorbed by the God-Boy Wally. The God-Boy must still house the Angel of Fire… This is something… new."

"A New Angel? How is such a thing possible." The Demon of Fire said, stepping from the smoke and moving as a cloud toward where his compatriot stood, looking at Supergirl.

Supergirl looked at the two demons coolly, concentrating.

"I do not know. There were three Earth Angels. And, Angel of Light. An Angel of Love. And the Angel of Fire. While this one has fire within… it is none of the three that patrol the Earth. And, there is something more within it."

"Could it be? The Destroyer Angel?" The Demon of Hate said stepping from the smoke.

Gideon watched the three of them as they stood around the invisible barrier keeping Supergirl in place.

"Should we destroy the Destroyer…" The Demon of Darkness hesitated.

"If we destroy the Destroyer, we could endanger all of reality." The Demon of Hate said.

"If we endanger all of reality, then it will all end." The Demon of Fire whispered.

"Do we truly wish to be responsible for that?" The Demon of Hate asked.

"Of course we do. If all reality ends, we end. And Darkness rules supreme." The Demon of Darkness whispered.

"But, reality may not end for quite some time." The Demon of Fire said. "There will surely be those who will come for you. The mortal has called upon you Darkness. You will surely fall, while myself and Hate remain safe in Hell without hosts."

"Hell will not be safe." The Demon of Hate said, "You know as well as I that we shall be tortured in Hell worse than Darkness will be if they come for us."

The three demons fell silent.

"You act as though you could kill me." Supergirl said levelly, "I don't really see that happening."

"You are in the Trap of Solomon." The Demon of Hate said dismissively. "You cannot leave. But, we can enter freely. As it's a trap designed for Angels… not Demons."

From where she stood, Cynthia Stanley watched the events unfolding around her—ignored and forgotten. Her eyes went to the smoke pouring from the incense burner. Making her way toward it slowly, Cynthia's wide vacant eyes focused on the smoke—the portal to Hell. It might be Hell, but it was a way out of this plane of existence. She just wanted to be free—and she knew that if Gideon succeeded, she would be forever bound here to him. However, if she slipped through that gateway into Hell… surely, he couldn't retrieve her from Hell. Even if he could, it was at least worth a shot.

Her eyes flickered around the room, from an unconscious Dick Malverne, to Gideon who watched only the three demons of smoke standing around Supergirl. Three demons who had eyes only for Supergirl.

To get to the portal, Cynthia had to inch by Dick Malverne. At his feet were trinkets and magical implements—all of which Gideon had used to keep him unconscious and his soul and body open so that the merge and possession could happen. She had liked Dick. He was a good person. The fact that Gideon had him tressed up like that only emphasized that—it took one who was completely good to house an Earth-Bound Demon.

Cynthia looked at the items near Dick's feet—the trinkets and talismans. She wished that she could effect them, knocking just one of them aside could close him off from possession. But, as an enslaved ghost she could only touch things that Gideon gave her permission to touch since he was her master. The last thing he'd given her permission to effect had been Dick—so she could attack him and bring him back.

Her eyes went to a black crystal globe. It glowed with unearthly power and unholy purpose. The captured souls of Gideon's victims swirled trapped within.

"If I hadn't been flawed, I'd have been in there with them…" Cynthia whispered. "Beatrice…"

Her sister's soul was trapped in there. Once the merge of Gideon and Dick Malverne, fused by the Demon of Darkness, was complete the souls within would be consumed. No Heaven. No Hell. No afterlife of the soul's chosing. Just the pain and nothingness of Oblivion.

"Cynthia…" A faint voice drifted from the black crystal globe.

"Beatrice?" Cynthia asked in awe.

"You called me. I came." The voice was blurry, but Cynthia could hear her sister. "You can help stop him. Stop this. And, give us all freedom."

"What can I do? I'm a freaking ghost." Cynthia sighed. "I can only move and touch things he gives me permission to touch! I'm useless."

"Destroy the Black Quartz Goblet. It holds Gideon's blood offering. Without it, Dick Malverne's soul cannot be fused. It effectively closes him off from Gideon and the Earth Demons."

"I can't move any of those things…" She whispered to Beatrice.

"But you can still move him… Gideon never removed your ability to effect him."

"Oh my God." Cynthia realized that Beatrice was correct.

With a sudden rush of hope, Cynthia's spectral hand grabbed Dick by the ankle, pulling his foot out—causing it to knock over the black quartz goblet. The goblet shattered, sending slivers of black quartz and foul dark liquid splattering across the floor.

Gideon and the Demons turned toward where Cynthia stood holding Dick's ankle.

"Bad Ghost." Gideon screamed, spittle flying from his teeth and an even more crazed look entered his eyes.

As quickly as she could, Cynthia dropped Dick's ankle, his foot falling back lifelessly. She rushed toward the smoky portal.

"We must move quick if we are to do this! The broken goblet and spilled blood is causing our entrance into his soul to close! A simple physical possession is useless for one such as us!" The Demon of Darkness hissed.

As all attention turned to Dick and Cynthia, Supergirl continued to concentrate. Then she felt something pop and a release—and the world blurred away.

"I can't wait until I truly understand how the shunting works." Supergirl said, appearing in between where Cynthia and Dick were and Gideon and the three demons made of smoke.

"She's free?!" Gideon gasped.

"You fool! You didn't use a binding that blocked shunting!" The Demon of Darkness said.

"How was I to know she could shunt?" Gideon asked, his eyes filling with terror.

"You should have studied me better. Maybe if you understood me better, you wouldn't have underestimated me." Supergirl said, reaching and plucking the hood from his head. "That hood is annoying and stupid." She tossed it aside. "That's better. I want to see your bottom lip tremble as you try not to cry as I burn you and send your soul to Hell."

Gideon Didio took several steps back.

"We can take her." The Demon of Hate said.

"How?" Supergirl asked in amusement. "You're made of smoke." She swiped at the Demon of Hate with super-speed, breaking the demon's smoky form apart. "You don't really exist on this plane right now. Your true essence is trapped on the other side of that portal until you take possession of a host. And, as you already said, Dick is useless to you now. You aren't able to do a simple bodily possession. That's not how the Earth-Bound work. We have to fuse. So, unless you're suddenly a lower level demon, Dick is not going to be your home."

"Gideon…" The Demon of Darkness said, "Take care of her!"

"Very well." Gideon said, regaining his composure. "I just have to remember the right incantation."

"How can you remember anything when you're down for the count?" Supergirl asked. "Your two smoky friends here aren't able to do anything except move about. They aren't physical manifestations. And while smoke might sting my eyes, it doesn't do @#$% for stopping me."

Swiping at the last two demons, they too easily broke apart beneath her fist.

"Too easy." Supergirl said. Then turned her attentions to Gideon, who had begun chanting.

"How about an air demon?" Gideon asked, finishing the incantation.

In the air between Supergirl and the black-robed man a silver snake with bat-wings, glowing eyes, and small spindly arms appeared. It was small.

"It's tiny…" Gideon gasped. "I thought it would be bigger."

"Sounds like someone didn't do his research into air demons." Supergirl laughed. "They taste like chicken."

Supergirl reached out and plucked the air demon from the space between her and Gideon. She crushed it, turning it into pulp. She tossed the foul stinking black sludge that had been an air demon just a few moments before aside. It splattered against the floor.

The fire from her eyes and back illuminated Gideon's face, making his fear easily recognized.

"You have killed people. You have attempted to unleash an Earth Demon on the Earth." Supergirl said, the fire raging. "You never fixed the leaky faucet in my bathroom."

"What?" Gideon blinked.

"For these things you deserve to die. You deserve to be incinerated. You deserve to spend all eternity burning in Hell like a normal sinner—not up above with the demon lords and kings, but down below with the stupid hopeless mortals who did evil cruel hateful things without thought or care for anyone other than themselves." Supergirl's voice boomed. "I could sentence you to death. I could take your life. I could burn you to a crisp—sending you to Hell."

Gideon cowered, all his posturing and assumed attitude of evil master from when she first arrived in this room were gone.

"But, I won't." Supergirl said, hauling off and punching Gideon. She remembered at the last moment before delivering the punch to hold back. Despite her earlier words, she wanted to avoid killing him. The punch knocked his head to the side with a snapping sound, rendering him instantly unconscious. Gideon Didio collapsed to the floor, landing with a thud.

"Let the courts decide what to do with you." Supergirl whispered, looking at the unconscious man. "I have no desire to play judge or jury at this time. That's more than I want hanging over my soul."

Supergirl reflected that as an Earth Angel of Fire, she was allowed to make such judgments. It was one of her duties.

No. She thought. She was a new Angel of Fire. Not one of the original three. She had no specific duties or purposes. Not that she was aware of. She was not bound to any of the rules that had bound her before. She was no one's enforcer. Although, the three Earth Demons had referred to her as the Destroyer…

Supergirl pushed that thought away.

Behind Supergirl and Gideon Didio's prone form, Cynthia Stanley reached the smoke portal to Hell.

"It's only Hell." Cynthia whispered. "And it's got to be better than this." She had watched Supergirl hold back, not kill Gideon, and she knew that she was going to be stuck here in this apartment building/once upon a time mansion for a long time. Gideon would be arrested. He'd be sent to prison. And right now, this state didn't have the death penalty. He would fester in prison for a very long time. How many years would it be before anyone realized that Gideon Didio wasn't aging, wasn't dying, he was just sitting in a gray cell watching time tick away. That it would be at least a hundred years before he even looked sixty. And at least two hundred more before he actually died of old age. Black magic was funny that way. And the whole time she would be trapped here in this apartment building. If it was torn down, she'd be stuck in whatever was built here until Gideon Didio died.

When Cynthia had killed her husband, she'd been fully aware there was no death penalty. Worst case scenario, she had told herself then, was spending the rest of her life in prison. Now, after ten years in a prison, she realized that death would have been better. And, leaving this prison for Hell was what was right. She'd killed her husband for money and to be with her lover. She had been greedy and afraid. And, hadn't wanted to just be honest with him and divorce him. She had wanted money. Lots of money. Killing was wrong. She deserved to go to Hell.

"Sorry, luv. But, the doorway is closing and there is only room for me to come through." A man stepped through the portal, moving quickly and knocking her aside.

The smoke died and the portal closed.

Cynthia watched the man who had come through as he moved quickly toward Dick Malverne's unconscious form.

"Supergirl!" Cynthia shouted. But, she knew it wouldn't be in time.

"This portal is closing too." The man chuckled. "Just enough time for me to slip into good ole Dick."

Supergirl spun around just in time to see what Cynthia saw--the man disappearing into Dick Malverne.

Dick's eyes popped open instantly, although his eyes were suddenly a golden color and his hair a shade more red.

With unnatural strength, Dick Malverne snapped the ropes holding him in place, stepping away from the cross and shattering and stomping all the items at his feet—the items that Gideon Didio had used to open Dick's body and soul for possession.

Smoke drifted through the room, as Dick Malverne made his way to the altar. Picking up the dagger that Gideon had used only minutes before to draw his own blood for the summoning, Dick stalked with precision to where Gideon laid unconscious on the floor.

"Dick? How did you get free?" Supergirl asked as he moved by her. Something about his movements troubled her, although they were familiar, they seemed wrong somehow. She thought she had saw a man standing before Dick only minutes ago. And then the man had seemed to disappear.

"It's not Dick." Cynthia Stanley said, coming up beside Supergirl. "A man came through the portal and stepped into him."

Supergirl looked sharply over at Cynthia Stanley, realizing what she had saw. A possession! Something had escaped Hell and taken residence in Dick Malverne.

"Then who is it?" Supergirl asked, anger and fear flooding her system.

"Don't you recognize me?" Dick asked pleasantly, stooping down to Gideon. "I'm hurt Linda. After all we've been through. It seems like you'd recognize a dear old friend. One you were so close to for such a long time in your younger wilder years."

The voice had an English accent.

"Oh God… no!" Supergirl wanted to scream and she wanted to cry and she wanted to tear this entire building down all around them. She was so close to losing control and going on a rampage.

Before she could process what she was seeing, Dick Malverne's body—under the control of another, plunged the dagger repeatedly into Gideon Didio's chest in quick succession.

Supergirl realized who it was inside Dick.

"Buzz?!"

A wide grin spread across the face that belonged to Dick Malverne, as he tossed the bloodied dagger aside. Wiping his bloody hands across his bare chest, he offered Supergirl a awful smile.

"You recognized me luv!" He rushed over to her, throwing his arms around her and giving her a huge kiss.

Supergirl knocked him away. He landed on his butt.

"What have you done to Dick?"

Chuckling, Buzz looked up at her. "I've done nothing. Your friend Gideon gave him a pretty strong magical tranquilizer. Basically put him into a magical coma; one he might not ever wake up from. Wanted him out of the way you know, so he could be in control of the Earth Demon. If Dick were conscious, then Gideon would be part of Dick and have to deal with all that comes with that sort of thing. Something I'm sure you can understand, being a couple different people sharing the same body yourself."

Buzz shrugged, "I figured there was no sense in letting the meat and bones go to waste as it were. So, I saw an open portal and figured Hell was for children and demons. Not for your good old friend Buzz. It's not like Dick was using his body. Nor will he be using it for the foreseeable future. Now can someone point me toward some clothes? These knickers aren't quite enough. It's rather drafty in here."

"GET OUT OF THERE!" Supergirl screamed at him.

"Not that easy." Buzz smiled brightly. "I'm in here until Dick wakes up. Once Dicky boy wakes, then I'll be cast out seeing as how I haven't properly bound into this body. But, until that happens… I'm here to stay. If he wakes up. Gideon used a pretty powerful magical tranquilizer. Dick Malverne's consciousness may never wake up."

Epilogue:

Cynthia Stanley had left the room—leaving Supergirl and Buzz to figure it out. The girl smiled and the dark circles that had lived under her eyes since Gideon had killed her had faded. When Buzz had stabbed Gideon Didio, Cynthia had felt it. It had washed through her, filling every ounce and fiber of her being.

She was free.

Clutching the black crystal globe to her chest, she knew she had to still test this theory—but as she made her way through the hallways, toward the apartment building's front entrance, she became more and more sure that it was so.

Free.

Reaching the front doors, Cynthia Stanley stood there for a very long time. Part of her was afraid. What if she pushed those doors and found that she couldn't pass the barrier? The same as she had every other time she'd tried to escape? What if it held her here? It wouldn't be so bad. Not with Gideon dead. She no longer had a master. She was free. She could haunt the halls if she wanted, or she could just haunt a room and do nothing. Totally completely and utterly—it was all up to her. And, there were people trapped in this globe… people she needed to figure out how to free. She had considered leaving this with Supergirl and Buzz. But she didn't. Cynthia realized that she was being given a chance to redeem herself. To make up for the murder of her husband. If she could free these souls…

Free. They could all be free. Free of this apartment building. Free of her crimes. Free of the black crystal globe.

Free.

Closing her eyes, Cynthia imagined taking a breath, even though as a ghost she didn't have to breath. It was one of those instincts you never really let go of, not even after years of being a ghost. She still imaged her body breathing, even though her body was just particles of light and dust given form and vague substance by ectoplasm and other supernatural substances that the naked eye could rarely detect unless she was manifest.

Cynthia Stanley stepped through the doors and into the street.

She laughed madly, joyously, jubilantly.

And then Cynthia Stanley ran off into the night—fleeing. As her feet carried her as quickly as they could, she did not notice the scrap of notepad paper laying on the sidewalk. She only ran as fast as astral feet could go (limited by her own perception) and the weight of the very real black crystal globe.

A gust of wind caught the scrap of paper, blowing it away, lifting it from the sidewalk in front of the massive dark apartment building.

On the scrap of notepad paper, in pencil it read 242: Everyone Dies.

THE END