Dragon Warrior - Chapter the 3 rd !!!

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Chapter the
3 rd !!!

     I hastily pulled the adamantite bones out of the ancient crypt and stuffed them into my

storage. It wasn’t a complete set. But, finding bones made of the stuff hadn’t been expected

anyway. Behind me, the sounds of destruction were loud, raucous and bloody. Reginax had

switched back to dragon form, and the demons were wigging out BIG time. We had tried the

peaceful, bargaining approach, but the local demon lord hadn’t been interested. Well, not in

bargaining, anyway. In jumping the dragon’s female form, yes. Reginax had weighed the

problem in her head for less than a second, before knocking the lord’s head from his shoulders in

a bloody squish. Then, all hell broke loose and we were running. Finding the ancient tomb in

their caverns, and her smelling the bones was all luck. Or chance. Whatever. Then I was busting

open another demon tomb and scooping the dirt out and into a sack, which, when full, I jammed

into storage again.

     More running. Well, me running. Reginax ga-lumping along behind me, blocking the

demons path and occasionally pausing to fry a couple hundred. Amazing. You would have

thought they’d learned NOT to stand in front of her maw, when she opened her mouth, but, they

just stood there with a frozen, stupid look on their faces as she roasted them alive. Apparently, in

this world, lower level demons weren’t terribly bright…

Finally back at the mouth of the valley, I mentally signaled the wizard.

     *Gargs! Time for Evac!!*

     On cue, a swirling portal appeared. I turned to hurry the dragon along and saw she was

industriously blocking the valley entrance with boulders and heat welding them together. Shit.

The demons weren’t coming out of there any time soon. Hope they were homebodys.

     “Reg, come on! Portal’s open!” I shouted. The dragon turned, nodded and rumbled

towards me, regaining human form on the run. Then, we were through and back in the Wizard’s

lair.

     “Excellent! A MOST excellent run!” the little man cackled, as I opened my storage and

started unloading product.

     “Yeah. If we had banks to rob, or something of that nature, we’d be rich. No one’s gonna

stop THAT tank…”

     The tall, black armor clad woman shrugs and smiled nonchalantly.

     “I am good at what I do.”

   

     “Will this be enough to make me a new body?” Glenn asked, floating nearby and

watching the odd and mostly disgusting assortment of items being laid out upon Gargamel’s

work bench.

     “Oh yes. No question. These are even far higher quality ingredients than the formula

called for. This new body of yours will be indestructible and immortal. You may even outlive the

dragon!” the wizard chuckled, examining the metallic bones and demonic grave dirt.

     “What about my blood?” the dragon queen asked, ‘How much will you need?”

     “The recipe calls for 4 pints. We’ll take 6 just to be safe. You’ll be fine. In your dragon

form we could probably take several gallons from you…”

     She nodded. Glenn, standing nearby, watched in fascination as the wizard prepped

equipment and materials to create him an indestructible, immortal body. He looked at me and

nodded his head toward the outside. I casually walked to the door and exited the cave-like home

of the odd little man. The ghost was right behind me.

     “John. Are you sure about this?” he asked hesitantly.

     I laughed.

     “Shouldn’t I be asking YOU that question?”

     “I mean, what if something goes wrong? What if I go insane? What if I become evil?”

     “Why would you? Stop thinking up nonsensical problems. Even IF such a thing

happened, do you REALLY think Reg wouldn’t cure it? Or that screwy little Wizard? The only

question YOU should be asking yourself, is; Are you prepared for eternity with the woman you

love?”

     The Hero looked nervous.

     “I have been alone SO long. It feels so RIGHT to be by her side again. I am worried.

Something will go wrong. Something will separate us again. Something I cannot return from.”

     “Not gonna happen. Be happy. Enjoy your lives.’ I smiled and raised a hand to clasp his

shoulder. Totally forgetting he was immaterial, I lost my balance when my hand passed right

through him and I tripped over my own feet and hit the ground.

     “Oh. Sorry John. Let me give you a hand there…oh.”

     “NOT funny, Glenn…”

      Reginax had told me to pay attention while I was out walking. I would be having a

visitor, and not to fear. I would have asked further, but, just wasn’t in the mood to care. The area

around Gargamel’s lair was swampy, overgrown. It was a forest run amok. I was a mortal man.

Well, for the most part. Being transported and revived bodily from another world might make me

something other than strictly human. But, I didn’t really care. I was alive. That was enough. The

trees were green. The sky was blue. The sun was yellow. It might not be earth, but, it certainly

didn’t seem like too bad a place to be.

     “Oi. Human. Hold up there a bit.” A voice bellowed from above me. I kinda jumped and

spun around to see whom was addressing me. To find a red dragon descending from the sky.

Another dragon. Was I attracting them or something?!?! Reginax was Queen of the Black

Dragon Flight. She had mentioned there were other Flights (families). And now, I was meeting a

red one.

     The massive creature settled onto the ground before me and folded its wings.

     “Ye are John Saint George, yes?” it asked, closing one eye and squinting at me with the

other.

     “Yes. I am. And you are?”

     “Ach. I am Angelax. Queen of the Red Dragon Flight. Pleased to meet ye.”

Another female dragon. Weren’t there any male dragons in this world??

     “Nice to meet you, Ang.” Ugh. Why did it have to be THAT name? My interactions with

females of that name NEVER went well. “How may I be of assistance to you?”

     “Reginax said you were travelling together with she, and her mate. Said you were

instrumental in raising her mate back to life. I found that interesting.”

     I sat down on the grass, and scooted my butt up against a tree. This apparently was going

to be a longer conversation.

     “It was only my idea on how to bring him back. Nothing more than a wild stab in the

dark, that turned into reality thanks to the Wizard. I don’t think I had a very big part in it other

than coming up with the basic concept.”

     “She said you allowed her mate to possess you, so she could… be with him.”

I hung my head. Damnit. Dragons had no sense of propriety/modesty.

     “… yes. That is true.”

    “Yet, when she offered to thank you, you politely refused.”

     “…yes. Again true. If you’re going to ask me to explain the morality of my heart, it’s

going to be a very long and probably boring conversation for you.”

     The red dragon cocked her head and squinted at me some more.

    “Stand ye up and come here for a moment, John Saint George.”

I didn’t even pause, but did as I was bade. I looked up at her figure. Not quite as big as

Reginax, but close.

     “Yes?”

     “Hold ye still…” so saying, she opened her gaping maw and lowered her head down to

me. Suddenly, I was surrounded by teeth more massive than a megalodons, and wrapped up in a

tongue bigger than the largest boa constrictor. Her breath was…not unpleasant. And she was

mumbling and humming to herself, as she thoroughly……tasted me? It never occurred to me to

struggle. And she wasn’t making any attempt to eat me. I mean, it would have at least taken

some effort to bite through the armor I was wearing, which was made of Reginax’ recycled

scales.

     As quickly as it happened, Angelax withdrew, and I fell down on my ass blinking rapidly.

I was covered in dragon saliva. Strangely, it didn’t bother me. I actually felt kind of… excited?!?

I coughed and tried to speak. Failed. Tried again and managed…

     “W…what…was that…about?!?”

The red dragon looked down on me, an amused expression on her face. I could only tell

amusement on a reptilian face, by the time I had spent with Reginax.

     “I’ve haven taken human form in MANY years…. So I wanted to probe yer eeny, weeny

brain, before I did, so I could assume a female form you found most pleasing. Give me a moment

here…”

     Oh no. Not her. Please, don’t tell me you picked her out of my brain…

The swirling, morphing thing happened, and another 7 foot tall woman stood before me,

clad in red armor, coiffed with a long wavy mane of fiery red hair. Her figure, was also…

herculean in proportions.

     “Well? How did I do? What do ye think, little man?” an Irish accent.

The woman I had loved my entire mortal life on earth. The one who would love

ANYONE but me. Her face adorned a comic book warrior Amazonian body.

     “Uh…” twitching. Trying not to jump and run. Brain spinning as I tried to think up a

non-insulting, not pathetic response. “That particular face… is…well… rather disconcerting to

see again.” I rose unsteadily to my feet and moved back to my tree, sliding back to the ground

against it, and looking bleakly at the female dragon.

     She raised an eyebrow.

     “Hrm. This face figured very prominently in your head.”

     “Yeah…I…well, that face was the love of my life. Unrequited, unfortunately.”

     “oh.” FINALLY, the dragon looked uncomfortable. She shuffled armored feet on the

ground and moved to sit beside me, against the tree.

     “Reginax says you are the 2 nd most magnificent male she has ever encountered. I think

probably she placed you 2 nd , so as not to diminish the man she loves. But, you seem to be at least

his equal.”

     I chuckled. “She has an overinflated opinion of me, because I helped her out a couple

times. I do what I do, because I believe in doing right, for the sake of it.”

     “Indeed. We dragons find that an admirable trait in males. Did Reginax ever explain our

mating practices to you?” The redhead asked, slouching over against me.

     “…nnno. No, can’t say as she did…”

“Male dragons are imbeciles. Little better than unintelligent animals, really.’ They canna

transform, and they tend to be violent first and think about their actions little to not at all.”

     “Hrm. Sounds mostly human to me…”

     The red dragon/woman let out a barking laugh.

     “Nay. They are vile. Which is why the females do not breed with them. Would ye breed

with a rabid animal? No. Well, we do not either. But, thankfully, we can transform. So our

options are not limited to our own species. But there are still drawbacks. We are immortal, for all

intents and purposes. If we do choose to spend our lives with someone, they invariably die well

before we would. You humans are gone literally in the blink of an eye to us. Which is why

Reginax is so indebted to you and favors you so highly. Not only did you give her back her true

love, but, you made him immortal. Even though you yourself desired her, you put her needs

before yours. Truly, you are a male, the like of which has not been seen by us in MANY an age.”

     I shrugged, “Thank you.”

     “Since ye are of the mind not to co-habitate with a male harem (WHICH many females

do. Nothing wrong with it tho, ifin it’s not yer thing), Reginax spoke with myself about ye. I am

a bit of an odd-ball myself, amongst female dragons. Monogamous, I mean.” 

     She stretched casually. Don’t look. Don’t look. It was difficult to ignore.

     “I don’t keep a stable. And if I don’t get along with someone, I don’t stay long. Ne’er had

any children to date. Can’t really say I long for em. But, bein alone ain’t s’nice either iffin ya

know what I’m sayin.”

     “So…” I asked hesitantly “Reginax asked you to come to me as a Blind Date?”

     Angelax cocked her head to the side and frowned.

     “I dinna get the reference…”

     I explained. It took a bit. Never thought translating a term would be so difficult.

     *laughing*

     “Blind Date. An amusing term for it…”

     I smiled ruefully.

     “Well, iffin that is what ye wish to call it, sure n well it is. Although the connotation there

is more a social one, I am thinking, then a sexual one. Make no mistake, Saint George. I have

decided I am attracted to you. So, my end game is to bed ye. “ 

     The look on her face was… hungry? Predatory. Definitely sexy.

     “…I…am flattered, Miss. Could we get to know each other a bit better? For me, a lot of

the love in a relationship comes from learning about the other person. “ I said quietly, meeting

her gaze.

     “ACH! My fault… when I probed yer mind before turning human, I dinna SHARE. Well,

let’s just fix that right now, shall we?” 

     And so saying, she reached over and drew me in for a kiss. And just like that I was inside her mind and saw her life. Tens of Thousands of years worth. Older by far than Reginax. The oldest dragon, and the oldest living being, in fact. And the most powerful. And the wisest. Well, so said the others of her kind. Reginax KNEW I would appeal to her. She hadn’t taken a mate in Eons. Thousands of years. Through her eyes I watched civilizations rise and fall. I watched wars. I watched young dragons be born. Grown up. Grow old. And end their own lives of their own accord. Except for her. She remained. And watched over. I watched her lovers, few though they had been, grow old and pass. I felt small. My sadness and sorrows seems infinitesimal, in comparison to a life so long. Everything was dark. I think I must have fainted. Cruddy pansy thing for a 50 year old man to do, at being kissed by a beautiful woman. Even if she WAS a dragon.

                  ***************************************************************

     “What exactly did you DO, to him?” Gargamel asked calmly, checking the unconscious

man’s pulse. “Heartbeat rapid. Thready. Seems like massive shock.”

     “I…I shared my life-memory with him. Usually, only a few hundred year of it, is all they

are able t’read. The mortal mind can’t seem t’handle more than that. He… he read ALL of it!”

     Reginax sat forward and stared at John Saint George. “ALL?”

     “Yes. To my beginning. Not even another dragon has done that. And it was …instantaneous. Wha’ever he is, he is NOT a mortal. Does he hae magics? Has he not used any special powers around ye?” Angelax asked, holding the unconscious mans hand and gently squeezing.

     “No. He seemed distinctly…ordinary in that way. He can talk to wolves… they vested

their power into him. But, no super strength. No special battle prowess or anything like it. Just a

genuinely GOOD man.”

     The little wizard cackled and moved to John’s beside.

     “Stand back ladies. This will wake him up. But you’re going to want to cover your noses.

It really reeks!”

     So saying, he shoved a small bottle under the man’s nose and quickly uncorked it.

                 *****************************************************************

     I awoke to a smell….well, like a skunk had crawled up another skunk’s ass, and died. It

was heinous. I wanted to vomit. Sitting up, I glared around the dark chamber. Gargamel. Reginax. And….a very concerned redhead, holding my hand. I smiled at her. Everything seems to fade into the

backround, but her face.

     “Sorry about that. Wasn’t expecting it.”

     “Neither was I!! What are ye, John Saint George? I am the eldest living thing on this

world. No one has ever shared my entire life’s story. Not once in all these eons. Yer brain should

be a melted pile o ‘puddin in yer skull!”

     I shrugged and smiled.

     “I am me. That’s all I know. Well, that and how great YOU are. That I know now VERY

well.” I squeezed her hand in mine. Her face turned bright red.

     “Oi now. No embarrassing me.”

     “Your fault. You showed me.” I grinned.

     Behind Angelax, the little wizard was nodding sagely. He turned to the black dragon and

spoke quietly. “Your matchmaking skills seem to be stellar. Hook me up!”

     Reginax snorted.

     “I am a dragon queen. Not a miracle worker.”

     I burst out laughing.

Graymalin Academy - Plot Outline

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    Graymalin Academy. 2466. Any science sufficiently advanced, will seem as magic to less advanced people. About the middle of the 2200s, mankind discovered magic WAS a branch of science. One that very few had the natural ability to understand and use. As time progressed, it seemed more and more of those that DID know how to access it, produced children who were all capable OF it. That was not to say that mages didn’t pop up every now and then in non-magic families. When they did, they were afforded the education their capabilities merited. Greymalin Academy. It was just as well the population of magic users was rising, as the regular military was nearly wiped out by the dimensional alien invasion of 2370. They weren’t from outer space. They crossed to Earth from a different vibratory plain, occupying the same space as us, but at a different resonating frequency. Their weapons were superior to the military in every respect. But NOT, to magic. Still wary of the sorcerers skilled folk, the mainstream military only let them enter the battle as a last ditch resort. They annihilated the invaders in days, sealed the dimensional riffs that were spread across the face of the Earth, and sent a horrible parting gift through the doorway as they did. A magical pestilence, for which the aliens would have no defense.

     Graymalin was the seat of magical learning. Only the best and brightest came here, from all over the world. And they were young. Some came as early as 10 years. Few started later than 15. It resembled Cambridge in England quite a bit. And suspiciously, bit also seemed to resemble a move magical school from a classic move of a couple centuries before. Probably on purpose. But, no one would admit to that. The authors’ estate still existed, and was QUITE sue happy, even nearly 500 years after her death.  

     During the 1^st Demon War (as the conflict was known), there had been many heroes. One such was the American Knight – George Saint. Son of a welder and self taught blacksmith, George excelled at creating swords and armor for other magic users. His greatest creations were proprietary; they could only be used by the one they were created for. Anyone else, would get little to nothing from them. Somehow, limiting them in such a manner, made them far more powerful. Both armor and swords. When fighting 1^st broke out, George had been in his early 20s. He created for his own use, the Grail Armor and the sword Excalibur. He did not share his creation method with anyone. But, the resulting weapons which he wore and used were devastating to the alien incursion. George Saint lead the charge in many battles, and with him at the head, the mage forces never lost. His image was broadcast across the globe, to give the people hope. It appeared in paintings, video, comics, everywhere. The quiet, blacksmithing-mage became as well know as King Arthur. Britain wanted to claim him as their own, but, upon researching his family history, they were crushed to find out he was of mainly Germanic decent. Conversely, Germany was overjoyed and erected statutes to him everywhere. George found it quite embarrassing.

     After the war, George settled down, married and had a son; Carter Saint. The boy was a great mage in his own right. But, he had the bent toward the bad side. So it was that at age 50, George had to stop his own power mad son, in a magic battle. It was only after George was forced to kill his only child, that he found he had an infant grandson. He raised the boy as his own, naming him, John.

     John Saint was a quiet child, who listen raptly to everything his grandfather taught him. He need only hear or see something one time, and he grasped it, whatever the concept may have been. The boy grew up on the campus of Graymalin Academy. His grandfather taught magical smithing. John became a master smith/mage in his own right. One day, just as John turned 40, 95 year old George passed away in the forge classroom. The whole world mourned the loss of Saint George the Demonslayer. Everyone expected John to step up and take over his grandfather’s forge and classes. But, that isn’t what happened. John lost the taste for magic when his grandfather passed. He stayed at Graymalin, but, instead, asked the board of reagents for the job of Janitor. They were appalled, and tried to force him into the teaching position. John firmly refused, and simply asked to be allowed to continue living in his grandfathers on campus quarters, and to be assigned his building and forge to clean and maintain. He insisted another smith/mage be brought in to teach his grandfather’s classes.  

     John had never forged any armors. He did make several swords, which, over the years, became quite famous in their own rights. He cleaned The Saints Forge building and its surrounding environs. John never married, nor had children. He kept to himself. He was friendly and helpful to the faculty, other staff and students. Sometimes he would help someone who was having trouble in their classes, and invariably, that student would suddenly become stellar. It was rumored he was quietly tutoring, but, John always denied it. And no student would ever confirm it. So, time passed. Until the Demons returned…

     The first place they hit, was Graymalin. The intent was obvious; to destroy any change humanity may have had in opposing their second invasion. The school was ready, but shocked enough to loose most of the faculty, who were getting on in years and not able to stand up to the Demons newly found magic of their own. News cameras controlled by magic, broadcast the destruction, almost instantaneously, around the globe.  Terror swept the campus as hordes of armor wearing Demons came through the gates, firing energy weapons and cutting down those who were foolish enough to stand against them. Until…

     The Gate in the center of campus shut down with an explosion, cutting off the transport of many Demons in mid phase. When the smoke cleared, impossibly, George Saint’s Grail Armor stood where the Gate had been. And whomever was in it, had Excalibur in hand. Cheers went up around the world, that Earth’s mightiest Knight, had returned from death to aide his people. The Demons turned and rushed the lone figure, only to be decimated by the lightning fast sword arm of the human. They died in droves. He was buying time for the world to rally and ready itself. And ready themselves they did. When the gates started opening in other parts of the world, the Demons were met with destructive force such as they had never seen in the last war. With a century more time to learn, they decimated the aliens, shoving them back through the Gates and sending planetary bombs along back with them. It was overkill, really. One such explosive would have sufficed. But, Earth sent a message. 10 Gates opened. 10 Gates closed. 10 bombs went through. The Demons civilization was utterly annihilated. Their planet was destroyed.

     On the Campus of Graymalin,  armored students and faculty rallied around the figure of the Grail Armor. The mighty warrior had sheathed his sword and silently turning, walked back to the forge building, and his grandfather’s living quarters. 

Log Horizon - The Damned One - Another Story Fragment - 11-30-2015

Damned rose to his feet again, bloody, a cut above his left eye obscured his vision, causing him to squint. The single Royal Guard member landed lightly before him.

                “Surrender NOW, Adventurer.”

                The big human looked around. The street was clear. Neither Adventurer, nor People of the Land had stayed, when the Royal Guard member had arrived to stop the altercation between members of The Round Table, and the leaders of the guild Plant Hwyden. He had simply been accompanying  Minori and Shiro back to the guild house. When the attack happened, he had quickly sent the attacking Hwydens to the Catherdral, with a mental warning to Naogatsu to have a crew of heavy hitters waiting for them, when they awakened. But he hadn’t been quick enough to escape the notice of the Royal Guard. He bought the others time to escape. Now, he faced the Guardsman alone.  He smiled a truly wicked grin. The magical enforcer sighed.

                “What possesses you Adventurers to think you can win against us? Have you ever?”

                Damned mutter beneath his breath, something unintelligible, that the Guardsman couldn’t hear. The atmosphere on the street changed. It was as if an electrical current that was negative, had suddenly switched polarities.

                “The fight is over.” The misplaced man replied. “There is no reason to enforce anything. You can return to your barracks.”

                “YOU dispatched 5 Adventurers to the Akibara Cathedral. YOU bear the brunt of the responsibility and the guilt. YOU must be punished.” So saying the enforcer drew his sword and leapt forward, swinging. There was a terrible crunch, followed by a scream of agony, as the human grabbed his advancing opponents sword arm at the wrist, and crushed it, armor and all. The Guardsman’s blue pulsing armor flashed dangerously red, as he dropped to his knees, still held by the Adventurer. In shock, he grabbed back at his opponent, attempting the same thing on Damned’s bare arm. Expecting no trouble in the streets of Akibara, the giant redhead had not worn his own armor. The Enforcer clamped down, fully meaning to tear the man’s arm off. Instead; nothing. Not only could he not tear it off, he couldn’t even dent  the Adventurer’s flesh.

                Shock was quickly setting in and the guardsman resolved to call for help. Whatever this being was, he couldn’t be allowed to walk the streets of Akibara.

                “Before you call for help, recall the legend of The Damned One. Who defeated your order ages ago. You’re still taught that one, yeah?” Damned face was stretched into a smiling grimace.

                The dazed Guardsman reacted, his eyes focusing, as a different sort of shock melted in.

                “You get to live. But, I’m going to teach you a lesson, and give you a serious message for the rest of your order. “ Calmly, the Adventurer began to peel the Guardsman, like a banana, tearing the impregnable magic armor from his body, while speaking quietly.

                “You’re not to slaughter Adventurers anymore. You’re to keep the peace. You’re to show up. Ask questions. Make logical determinations. No slaughter. I’m here. Living in the town now.  I’m not leaving. Rest assured, I have NO compunctions at all, about destroying your organization, just like I did 2 centuries ago. It doesn’t matter to me if you send one, or all of your brethren. They won’t win against me. Just like you.” He finished tearing off the magical armor, then, he muttered again under his breath, while focusing on the Guardsman’s broken wrist. Suddenly, it was whole again; unbroken.

                “What are you?” the Person of the Land whispered, low. Watching as his undefeatable magical armor was gathered up, and grimly crushed into an apple sized ball.

                “Exactly what I told you. I am the Damned One. You can walk home. Take your armor with you. And DO tell your order I’m watching. This entire confrontation could have been avoided, if you had protected the city from Plant Hwyden.” Damned was no longer bleeding. And no evidence of injury was to be seen on him. He pulled the Guardsman to his feet.

                Cordially, he waved, and walked away.

                Finally, realizing he would live and relieved to be so, the Guardsman turned, and made his way slowly toward the Akibara Guild Hall. Slowly, because the tiny ball, that had BEEN his magical armor, was very, VERY heavy…

Log Horizon - The Damned One - Story Fragment - 6/2015

*explanatory note*  -  This is based on the Anime - Log Horizon. You can look it up on kissanime.ru if you enjoy fantasy/adventure cartoons. I enjoyed it enough to invent a character. This is just a fragment. I may continue it some day. Or it may remain as it is. 

                The raid team was wiped out. Well, practically. Minori, now a level  50 Shrine Maiden, and the strange level 95 Warrior, Damned, were the only two survivors of the Boss’ last attack. The middle school girl tried to remain calm and backed out of Memnoch the Demon’s agro range. The huge Warrior leapt backward and landed squarely in front of Minori. He was breathing heavily and ready to move again. Currently he had ALL the Raid Boss’ agro focused on himself. His respite from the giant horned Demon’s attack would be mercilessly brief.

                “Minori…” he said without turning around.

                “We should retreat to the zonepoint and wait for the others to respawn!” the girl said quietly.

                “That means we would have to start this battle all over again. I don’t believe we have the time. Minori, please forgive me. “

                “For what?” she replied nervously, clenching her fists tightly about her staff, as Memnoch turned slowly to face them. His movements were ponderously slow. But that would only last a few more seconds, before the debuff wore off.

                “I have not been honest with any of you. Not you, nor Shiro.” The big man straightened up. “Teaching Mode reset.” Minori started in shock. Damneds stats had always seemed slight…wrong to her. But she couple never pinpoint why. Now it hit her. The Teaching Mode indicator on his profile had been on. She hadn’t noticed it. Nor, had anyone else.

                “Raid rank 93. That means he’s probably level 200-250 if he were plain ranked. You think?” Damned strode forward. 

                “What are you doing?” Minori said, reaching out to grab him by the arm. Damned turned and looked down at the small woman. A strange smile played about his lips.

                “Can you keep a secret, Little One? Teaching Mode – Level  400!” Suddenly his status screen flashed brightly and his Stats shot up incredibly. The Cleric gasped. The Warrior dropped into a crouch and exploded upwards, the ground under his steel booted feet fairly exploded at the massive downward pressure. Damned rose like a rocket, and the Demon stopped, suddenly confused. Gray and red hair streaming about his head, the human drew both swords, something no one had yet to see him do. Especially since both were two handed weapons. Both blades glowed white with magical energy and left tails in her vision as she tried to follow their lightning-like movements. Memnoch roared and staggered back, suddenly missing both his horns. His massive head snapped around sharply to the left, as Damned side kick him in the face. Falling back, the giant Demon raised a fist and swung. The speed debuff had worn off. His movements were fast. Minori screamed a warning at the human. Her scream was drowned by his own roar as he BLOCKED the massive blow and neatly severed his attackers arm, at the elbow.

                The demon howl and inhaled, intending to breath fire, and destroy the warrior and the cleric, as he had done the rest of the raid group. Just as Memnoch readied his exhale, Damned leapt again, right at his face. His boot met the demons jaw, shutting it’s mouth abruptly and costing the demon most of its teeth. It didn’t matter much, as Memnoch’s head exploded, driven by the force of the demon’s own fiery exhalation.  The giant, headless corpse tottered, gouts of blood and flame shooting from its ruined neck. Finally it dropped to its knees and fell forward. It exploded into raid rank treasure items, and a huge pile of gold coins.

                Speechless, the Cleric girl watched as her own level skyrocketed from 50 to 65. The older Warrior noticed as well.

                “The others are not in the zone. We share the EXP bonus between the two of us. “ Damned  explained. Of course logically she KNEW this. But…15 levels in one kill. THAT she had NOT expected.

                “What…” she squeaked, “what ARE you??”

                The big man smiled ruefully.

                “I’ve been playing Elder Tale a long time, Minori. A LONG time. From the beginning, in fact. Hell, BEFORE the beginning. I was Beta. The game creators liked me. I was helpful. So they hired me as an in-game Aide. I could be any level. Go anywhere. Do anything. And they trusted me to keep it quiet. Imagine how many gamers would be pissed if they knew one guy got to play in God-Mode whenever he wanted?” Damned sat on the ground at the younger woman’s feet. And patted the ground beside himself. Minori sat, facing him.

                “Go on…” she prompted. This was the longest speech anyone had gotten out of the man since he joined them in the middle of the wilderness.

                He looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I was online as usual, when the Apocalype occurred. I tried contacting Sysop. Nothing. I am as In the Dark as everyone else on this world, about how or WHY we’ve ended up here. I’ve stayed to myself. Figured it would be easier than trying to keep my status secret from everyone. But it’s a hell of a lonely way to have to live. I drifted in and out of towns and villages, got what I needed and left. I listened for news. Akibara and the Round Table have been big news for months. When I caught wind you were moving through my area, I decided to take a chance and meet you all. I didn’t figure to be in the position of my secret being outted so quickly.” The big warrior dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck with a metal gloved hand.

                Minori tried to digest his story.

                “No…limits? God-Mode?” she asked, hesitantly.

                Damned nodded. “Just what it sounds like. I am the strongest thing in this world. At least, I haven’t found anything yet that offered me a serious problem. “ he chuckled. “So, I keep Teaching Mode on and play at a *safe* level, so as not to arouse too many folks suspicions.” He smiled wanly.

The Lord of the Rings – Not a 10th Rider,but a Strange Outsider

This of course, is fiction. If it were real, I'd be SOOOOOO outta here!!!

Chapter 1 – Angels, Demons, Orcs & Elves…

                I cruised down the wide open, deserted highway. The wind on my skin was hot and dry. I knew I should have been wearing my leather, simply for safety’s sake. But sometimes, one likes to live dangerously. Or stupidly, depending upon who you ask. My chromed out Honda Goldwing flew smoothly and quietly down the highway. I never was one for unnecessary loudness. Neither was I into helmets. Rebel in some ways, conformist in others, I guess. We are what we are, right? I enjoyed the open roads and riding for my vacations. And I’d go as far and as fast as I could, in the little time that I ever had to TAKE a vacation… This one turned out to be MUCH farther and longer than I had ever imagined.

                My trips were always alone. I was single, always had been, though I couldn’t say I was content to be so. But such was life. We all have to deal the cards we are dealt. Good or bad. This time, I was headed into the west, crossing Texas at a speed that the local and state authorities certainly wouldn’t approve of, if their radar and laser gear could detect me. I was also big on gadgets and friends who created new gadgets.  Joe’s Radar Eliminator made me invisible to the cops, except by sight. They could still SEE me going like a bat out of hell, but I wouldn’t register on any piece of gear they owned. So, I tended to usually push the limits of common sense. Right now I was doing close to one hundred and  forty miles an hour. WHICH is why I couldn’t avoid the weird anomaly which appeared in the road in front of me.

                The blacktop suddenly shimmered. You know how a hot road creates a visual distortion sometimes? Well it looked like that. But Ten feet high and spanning the entire highway. I slammed on the brakes, but knew damned well I wouldn’t be able to stop in time. Not that I had any fear of whatever it was. I just wanted to take a few pictures and see what would come out. The Goldwing slewed back and forth and the tires stuttered on the hot asphalt as I skidded to a non-stop – THROUGH whatever the vision before me was. I stayed upright until I passed into and out of it. THEN, I fell and hit the ground. Off of a horse. NOT my Iron Horse either. I looked up stunned at a gold colored stallion of immense size. A Clydesdale or Bavarian draft horse of some sort. The horse looked at me, seemingly stunned also.

                *what the hell just happened???* the thought broke across my brain. It was a thought NOT my own.

                “oh god. I’ve got a concussion. I’m hearing things…” I moaned and sat up fully, rubbing the back of my skull where I had lightly hit the…dirt. No road surface anymore. A dirt trail. Well, maybe a road by someone’s standards…

                The horse swung his face around and looked at me.

                *you HEARD me? wait a minute… how can i be HEARD anyway?? i’m an inanimate object!!!*

                I looked in stunned amazement at my ride.

                “Not…anymore, apparently. You’re an extremely large, intelligent horse, who happens to be able to communicate telepathically. OR, my brains are leaking out my ear on a Texas highway and this is my way of dying.”

                The horse thoughtfully leaned down and bit me on the arm.

                “OW! DAMNIT!!!”

                *nope. pain is usually a great indicator. you’re not hallucinating. probably not dying either. *

                I rubbed where I had been bit. “Okay Mr. Smart. Then explain what’s going on!”

                The horse looked up and around. It cantered around and looked behind, at where we had just come from.

                *dimensional rift. different reality. apparently a motorcycle won’t translate here. and this space-time continuum chose a workable analog; a horse.*

                “Yeah. What you said. And you’re so smart because?”

                *check my saddlebags. i bet your laptop isn’t in there anymore.*

                I groaned and got to my feet, finally taking stock of myself. I was wearing a puffy pirate shirt, leather pants and leather boots. They were similar to what I had been wearing moments before when I passed through the…whatever it was. Except for the shirt. Normally I wouldn’t be caught dead in something so faggy. I felt like Seinfeld for a moment.

                The horse watched with curiosity as I approached and started rummaging through the bag strapped to his side.

                “No. Laptop is gone. Gps is gone. Cell phone is gone. Crap.”

                *not gone. translated. included in ME, i guess.*

                I chewed my lower lip, thoughtfully.

                “So you’re my motorcycle. And all my gear.”

                *all the technological stuff. I’m betting your non-tech stuff is still there in some form, right?*he tossed his head back towards the bag.

                I looked again. Clothes. Canteen. Funky bread wrapped in leaves. Funky bread wrapped in leaves?? That was familiar. I took a piece out, unwrapped it and chowed down. Good. Not stale at all as I would have expected.

                “Okay. So where are we….Horse?”

                The animal looked at me. I read a feeling of amusement.

                *you need to think of SOMEthing to call me.*

                “What do you WANT to be called?” I asked.

                *goldwing will do, I guess. at least you won’t forget it. like my oil changes…*

                ‘HEY!! You JUST had an oil change!!”

                *sure. after you skipped the last two and just poured new in on top of the old. ya cheap bastid.*

                “I am not cheap. Just got distracted is all.” I muttered sheepishly, turning away finally to study our surroundings. Beautiful rolling hills. A dark, funky looking forest to one side. Few dozen Orcs running towards us at full tilt, yowling and brandishing swords. “Aw CRAP. I know where we are…”

                *middle-earth. get aboard. we’d better haul arse. i don’t feel like becoming orc soup.*

                I wasted precious seconds, figuring out how to crawl up into the saddle.  Goldwing wheeled around and headed for the woods. Although the Orcs moved fast, there were in no way coming close to my steed’s speed. We were into the woods in the blink of an eye. My mount turned and ran along the inside of the forest-line, heading south, past where the army had come from. He shot back out of the woods, hit the path and poured on the speed, still heading south. A horseman, I was not, but even I knew the speed we were making was far beyond what a horse could ever achieve.

                “Where are we heading?” I asked, leaning forward near to one of his ears.

                *away from the stewpots!!!* the thought was laughingly shouted into my brain.

                “Good a place As any, I guess.”

                *we’re headed south. going to try and pass Isengard without being seen and then head for Helm’s Deep. this forest is Fanghorn, i think. not quite sure of WHICH side of it we’re on, tho.*

                “Okay. Do we know WHEN we are in Middle Earth?”

                *those are orcs, roaming out in the open; we’re during the war of the rings i’d imagine.*

                I digested that bit of information. What to do now? Seek a way home? Bum around the countryside and see the sights and risk getting attacked either by Orcs or the Riders of Rohan? Or join the battle and stay away from the main characters of the story as much as I could manage.

                “I have the complete Ring Cycle in my Kindle. What do you think?” I asked my running companion.

                *yah. i’ve been running it through my head since the Orcs showed up. not sure if we should openly interfere or not. *

                “Well,” I reasoned,” it’s not like we’d be changing our own history. Tolkien wrote a fantasy, not a history.”

                *debatable. there’s still the rumor that he translated the whole thing from the Red Book of Westmarch, or Hergest. maybe we’d affect things. maybe we wouldn’t. frankly, my existence has been spent as an inanimate object, so i don’t think i’m qualified to make a decision here.*

                I snorted, “Well you’re animated enough NOW.                We’re in this together and I would value your input.”

                I felt Goldwing smile, in my head. It was a strange sensation; to FEEL someone else’ feelings in your brain.  Then that smile turned to icy fear.

                *NAZGUL!  airborne.  two o’clock.*

                Turning my head slightly, the flying dragon-like thing was almost upon us. We were out in the open. No trees, no hills or houses to hide behind.

                “Can we outrun him?”

                *i’m fast.  but not THAT fast.* the horse mentally gritted his teeth, and pulled to a stop, waiting for the Black Rider to reach us.

                “We’re going to FIGHT him then??” I asked, my voice involuntarily rising in pitch.

                “An interesting pickle, no?” a voice said, from just to my left. I fell out of the saddle to my right and looked underneath Goldwing, in the direction of the voice. A small man stood there, dressed in robes of blue.

                “You have all you need to fight the Black Rider. You just need some instruction on how. Quickly now, on your feet. “

                And I was standing. Not of my own volition, I might add.

                “Hand on your horse, please.”

                Numbly, I did as I was bade, turning my head to look at the flying demon-thing which was rapidly descending on us.

                “Armor mode.” The blue clad stranger said. Suddenly, Goldwing was gone, and I was clad head to toe in gold armor. “MUCH better. Now, draw your sword and fight!”

                I reached to my side and found the pommel of a weapon. My hand closed about the hilt and I drew the broadsword. The blade was exceptionally long, and the metal brighter than any sword I had ever seen. It almost looked like chrome. Except that was lousy choice for sword metal. The hilt was metal, and checked. It fit my hand and did not slip, despite its considerable weight. I recognized it. Middle-Earth had translated my father’s WWII army issue pocket knife.

                Suddenly, the arm not holding my father’s sword shot upward, pointing at the Wraith. There was the sound of a release of compressed gas, and a bolt shot from my wrist, trailing a thin cable.

                “HEY!! Do I get any say in this???” I gasped, as the projectile hit the Rider’s mount and sank in, deeply. Then, the cable started to reel itself in, whipping me from the ground and sending me streaking upwards towards my target.

                *I don’t think so…* Goldwing said, just before we sling-shotted around and ended up standing firmly planted on the flying pterodactyl-thing’s back, just behind it’s rider.

                The Nazgul emitted a hissing noise and leapt up, drawing its own sword. Frightened, I brought my sword up to block his thrust and frantically parried repeated blows, without giving ground. Hell, there was no ground to GIVE. Although, I noted the dirt did seem to be approaching at a pretty good clip…

                We hit the earth with a sickening thud and crunch, the rider’s mount dead, from my spear-cable. NOW, I began backing up, in no small amount of wonderment that the crash didn’t kill me and at least JOLT the Wraith. Our blade rang loudly, as it attacked and I defended. Not well, either, I might ad. Guns, I had done in my life. Swords, not so much, outside of high-school plays.

                *stop backing up. press him.* Goldwing urged.

                The Nazgul deftly ducked as I swung my blade. He let forth a satisfied hiss as his blade made it though my defense and struck my armor. Nothing happened. Except me bringing my arm down and striking off the hand which held his blade. He let out a wild shriek and stood, black smoke issuing from the truncated limb. Some force caused me to surge forward, pressing my advantage, quickly and efficiently carving up the unarmed Wraith into bloodless, dry chunks. In moments, it was over. I wheezed pretty hard inside my armor. I could feel Goldwings’ smile in my mind again. Then, the blue clad figure was beside me.

                “Excellent job, Daniel. I knew Alatar and I picked the right man for the job.” He was smiling and nodding, rocking back and forth on the heels and toes of his feet.

                “You brought me here?” I said, straightening up.

                “Yes. And modified your iron horse into something more in keeping with the territory.” He beamed.

                “Thanks…SO much.”

                *well, I thank you sincerely, anyway.* my armor/horse/former cycle said.

                “You are both quite welcome. Now, if I might make a suggestion, would you mind heading for Helm’s Deep? I believe Theoden could use your brand of help.”

                “Uh, how to I get my horse back?” I asked.

                *i can handle that.* and Goldwing stood beside me, looking at our “benefactor.”

                *Pallandro, correct?*

                The man appeared startled.

                “Why yes.”

                *ah. another wizard. i cross referenced it when he mentioned the name of your friend,  Alatar. they don’t appear in the Ring books, directly.*the last was directed at me, I guessed.

                “Wizard. Like Saruman.” I said.

                The blue figure frowned.

                “Please. More on the order of Radagast. Although of lesser stature.” The wizard said, modestly, with a slight bow and a smile.

                “Can’t tell it by what you’ve done with me.” I shrugged.

                “Weeeell, we all have our specialties. Cross-Curtain Dimensional Relocation is one of mine. Altar did the technological conversion bits. Voila! You’re here and properly equipped.”

                “A bit of training would have been helpful.” I grumbled under my breath, looking down at the ground and the hacked up bits of Wraith that lay strewn about my feet.

                “I’d say you did QUITE well enough. Even I can’t tell you when the last time a mortal man defeated a Black Rider.”

                *never.* my horse said, carefully examining the chunks on the ground. *all the Wraiths appeared in the battle at Gondor. the Witch King was destroyed by Lady Eowyn. the rest die when Sauron perishes after Frodo chucks the ring into Mount Doom. No man has ever killed one. we’ve altered the story. here. pick this up. i have no fingers to do it.* he nudge the armored hand of the creature that I had initially hacked off.

                I walked over and leaned down, Pallandro frowned. The armor came off of the hand easily, to reveal a shriveled, mummified hand, bearing a simple ring on the ring finger.

                “One of the Nine.” I said. I removed it from the hand of my deceased opponent.

                “It would contain all of his experiences, all his memories, everything that he would have remembered from his ages of life.” The wizard murmured.

                “But not his spirit? His personality?” I asked, turning it over and examining it in detail.  It was silverish. Or maybe platinum. Not gold, like the One. I could discern no writing upon it.

                “No. It was linked to Sauron by the corruption of his soul. And through each’s power, Sauron corrupted and controls them all. May I see it, please?” he asked politely.

                I nodded and dropped the ring into his outstretched hand.

                He flinched only slightly. And was silent but a moment before continuing to speak.

                “Khamûl, the Black Easterling. Second in stature of his Wraiths.”

                *not bad! we capped Sauron’s number two.* the horse said proudly.

                “Indeed.” The wizard said, handing me back the ring.

                I held it in my hand for a moment, then slipped it on. I blinked rapidly, as information flooded my mind. Most of it, of a NOT so pleasant nature. Shuddering, I took it off.

                “yuck. It makes me feel ill.”

                “Yes.” Pallando said, “Whereas a man of THIS reality that put on that ring, would immediately fall under Sauron’s control. You just feel queasy. And am I correct in my thinking that you can see Khamûl’s life, and the powers of his ring?”

                Hesitantly, I put the ring back on again. It immediately left a bad taste in my mouth. But, I dealt with it and concentrated. A menu sprang up before me, floating in midair, like a list of choices on a computer screen. 

                “Yes.”

                “I would practice using that, and the information therein, if I were you. It will be invaluable to you in the battles to come.”

                “I was never much of a warrior-type. Despite the cycle.” I chuckled, looking at the wizard.

                “We know. But your mindset will help you all the more. Less chance of you being corrupted by the Dark Forces you will be pitted against. Power means nothing to you, so you will not be tempted by it.”

                “The same can be said of YOU, can it not?” I smiled.

                The wizard chuckled.

                “Not all of us, I’m afraid, as you know. As a result, we are not permitted to utilize the rings. Although Saruman does not HAVE one, he has already been ruined by the Dark Lord.”

                “OH yeah. But he’s about to get his ass kicked, I would imagine.”

                “…Yes. Interesting way to put it. Treebeard and the other Ents are marching on Orthanc, even as we speak. That is why you must hasten to the battle at Helm’s Deep. Your assistance there will be invaluable to King Theoden. With your intervention, many of the lives of his warriors will be spared. “

                I shifted feet uncomfortably. “How?”

                “With the tools we have given you, and the ring on your finger, you are a far more formidable opponent than any HUNDRED Uruk-hai.”

                I nodded.

                “I see your point, although I don’t know if I believe in it. I’m used to being ME. Not a major instrument of destruction.”

                Pallando smiled.

                “THAT is why you are perfect for this job. You have the ability, without the ego.”

                I rolled my eyes and easily mounted Goldwing. Already, the ring’s built in memory was filtering in. I still was hoping the wizard was correct in his assessment of WHAT the ring contained. I had no desire to become a New black rider.

                *you won’t.* my mount grunted and sprang forward, streaking I guessed, in the direction of Helm’s Deep, and Theoden’s embattle army.

The Way Harry Potter SHOULD Have Ended...

THIS, is of course, more fiction. lol. Although truthfully, I wish it weren't. I could deal, even with being a Squib, in Harry's universe. :)

****************************************************************

I was tired. Far more tired than I had been in a long time. Decades. Although, when one has all the time in the world, I guess decades don’t mean an awful lot. To me they do. Even though I have more time than most.

It took me a few seconds to rise to my feet. Numbness stiffened my limbs. The poison. It would have killed someone else. Me; it was an annoyance more than anything.

His cruel smile faded a bit as I stood. It vanished entirely as I straightened up to my full height and raised my wand. A sneer twitched a bit about his lips, as his eyes focused on my raised hand. He wasn’t sure if I had the strength to cast anymore. Sunofabitch had cheated anyway and poisoned me with a dart. His assassin hadn’t lived to shoot another. But the poison was making life a bit more difficult for me. But that was all.

Voldemort flew backward across the courtyard, propelled by an arcane blast from a wand not of this world. He attempted to transform to smoke and fog , but I twitched and he fell from the sky like a duck that had been shot. He flopped hard and scrambled to his feet snarling. He raised the Elder Wand and cast. And cast again. And yet again. His spells simply broke against me, like waves against a barrier reef, affecting me not at all. He simply didn’t have the power. Unfortunately for him, I did.

My next blast plastered him against the outer wall of Hogwarts. I let him flop to the ground, before I hexed him again. And Yet again. Not enough to kill him. But I was definitely fucking him up in a major way. Most of his ribs were now broken. His left arm hung limply, as he raised his wand arm again. I let him cast. He screamed his rage as his spell broke yet again against my defenses. Then, I put my wand away.

“Had enough yet, Tom?” I asked politely, advancing slowly, and deliberately.

He attempted to hex me again, casting spell after spell in quick succession. The Unforgivables sparkled and fizzled around me. I didn’t even stop moving forward. Let alone show any sign of being affected by them.

“You don’t have the strength, Tom. That’s why they woke me up. No matter what weapon you had, Albus knew you couldn’t overcome me.” I smiled. It was not a friendly smile.

The dread lord panted, dropping his good arm and leaning heavily against the stone wall. He was trying to figure out a next move.

“You don’t have a next move, Tom. Your game is up. Your time is done. I’m going to use your life-force to undo all the damage and death you’ve caused. Well, yours and all your Death Eaters that have survived.” I said coldly.

He actually smiled.

“That old fool Dumbledore would never condone that.”

“Indeed. But, I don’t intend to clear it with him first. Or even ask him. He may have awoken me, but he does not control me. And I abide no counsel but my own. Tom, you’re too dangerous to be allowed to live. Oh, granted; not to me. To me, you’re a minor annoyance. But to the rest of the people in this world, you are a major pain in the ass. And THAT, stops now.”

I didn’t bother using a wand. Simply, I pointed at Voldemort and sucked the life essence out of his body. He dropped dead on the spot. Then, I picked the information from his spirit, about the location and shapes of the Horecruxes he had made. Those that Dumbledore and company hadn’t already found. I raised my hand into the air and clenched into a fist. Two of his soul repositories collapsed immediately, yielding their power up to me. The last, I would have to be more delicate with.

Turning, I found myself confronted by Dumbledore, Snape, McGonegal, and the rest of Hogwarts staff. The look of horror on their faces was palpable. Murder, even of one such as Lord Voldemorte, was distasteful in the extreme to them all. Well, except for Severus. He logically understood it. The rest found it abhorrent.

“You, killed him.” Albus whispered, “Without even a thought.”

I shrugged.

“Thought wasn’t necessary. He lost the right to be called human a long time ago, Professor. He was little more than a rabid animal. You don’t cure a rabid animal. You put it down, before it infects others.” I glanced over my shoulder at the Dark Lord’s corpse.

“You waited too long in this case. He infected many. And ruined many lives. I don’t know if all the power stored within him is enough to reverse it all. But I will try my best.”

“Reverse it?” Minerva whispered. “You have the power to…”

“Bring back the dead? Oh yes. Neither Heaven nor Hell can deny me anything.” I chuckled, “They owe me favors. This one is going to use up most of the good will I have on BOTH sides. But, I think it well worth it.”

I strode past the group, to where Harry Potter lay, on the very brink of death. I had spared just enough power to hold him there. Quickly, I knelt beside him as the others gathered around me. Gently I took his head in my hands and pressed my left thumb against his scar. Black energy flowed out of his ears, nose and mouth, for several moments. When it finally stopped, the young man opened his eyes and blinked.

“There we go, Mr. Potter. I think you’ll feel quite a bit better now. That nasty bastard made YOU one of his soul repositories.” I smiled, helping the young wizard gain his feet. He looked around dazedly, taking in the scene of carnage that had been his school. Dead bodies littered the grounds. Friends and enemies. He let out a low moan.

“Harry. Steady. We’re not done here yet.” I smiled, holding him up as he sagged at the horror around him.

I took out my wand again. Fourteen inches of k440 stainless steel, with a core made of Illudium Q-36; an unholy marriage of science and technology neither of this world, nor of this dimension. Turning away from the boy, I raised the wand, and fed the power of the dead Dark Lord and all of his minions through it.

“Consurgo ex Mortalitas!” I roared. My voice rumbled and echoed around the courtyard, and the sky went dark above our heads. The ground beneath us trembled and shuddered. Yep. Heaven AND Hell were pretty pissed at THIS request.

Across the length and breadth of the field, the dead gasped, groaned and came back to life. Not the bad ones. Only the good. Wounds healed in seconds. Broken limbs knit themselves. Burns healed instantly. Blood, guts and brains were all returned to their proper owners. Parents cried out in joy and ran to their children. Friends hugged each other and did not let go. George and Fred Weezly danced in circles, with the rest of the Weezly clan a whirling dervish crowd about them. Harry looked around, relief and tears showing on his face at the same time. With a smirk, I turned the young man towards the forest.

“I haven’t forgotten your sacrifices either, Mr. Potter. I said EVERYONE he killed. And I meant it.”

Walking slowly towards us from the treeline, a small group. They were seemingly hesitant and bewildered for a few moments. Then, seeing where they were, rushed towards us. James and Lily Potter. Sirius Black. Harry cried out and ran headlong to his family. I smiled. Sometimes, it was indeed good to be the “good guy.” Satan spawn notwithstanding .

Behind me, I heard Snape whisper in shock…

“Merlin…!”

I turned and looked quizzically at the Potions Master.

“Yes? What? You doubted me?”


End

Justice League: How the HELL did I get HERE??!?

Fiction again! Enjoy! :)

Prologue:

            I admit it. I -  am a geek. A nerd. A loser. Always have been. Always thought I would be. Didn’t bother me too much. As long as I got to read and write my stories, and still managed to work enough hours to pay the bills. That was enough.

Comic books were my main form of enjoyment. They were cheap. And I read voraciously. Still do. When I have time. There’s a lot less of that to spare since I came here. Of course, reading escapist fantasy pales in comparison to actually LIVING  escapist fantasy every day. Hi. I’m John Black. Until lately, I led a normal, average, boring life as a comic book shop owner. Yeah, yeah. Heard all the Simpsons jokes already. Thanks so much. Things changed one day for me, not all that long ago. I left my job, my tiny efficiency apartment home, my world, my REALITY. Now, I’m a member of an organization I watched on Tv as a child; The Justice League.

A few short weeks ago, I owned and operated a comic book shop. I was 41, and content to come to work, read everything before I put it out on the shelves for sale, and scribble stories of my own in my notebook, between customers. Then, an impossible person appeared in my shop one morning; Pariah, from the Old Dc universe. PRE Crisis, 1985. Turned out it was going to be a pretty interesting day for some people…

11:45am. I’ve unpacked the multitude of boxes, shelved every single issue correctly, put everyone’s special orders in their personal folders and managed to chug my way through the stack of books I enjoy reading myself. The store is quiet. I don’t turn on the radio. Real rock music ended in 1989 anyway, so I don’t see the point. The silence can be somewhat, deafening on occasion. This morning, I could hear a breeze blowing. I raised my eyes from my scribbling, to see who walked in and left the door open. Then, it hit me; the breeze wasn’t COLD. This is late November. It’s in the high 30s, low 40s here in Jersey. The breeze that ruffled my sweater was warm. Moist. Smelled of SOMEthing not pleasant. Doom. Wet, smelly, dog-fur doom. The slight whisper of that breeze built all too quickly into a howl of wind, that may have been what some described a tornado as like. I thought a freight train was running over the little 15x20 shop, with all the shaking and shrieking of wind. Then it all stopped. My carefully shelved magazines were everywhere. And a man in wildly colored clothes stood before me, looking as shocked to see me, as I know I was to see him. The worst part was, I recognized him.

“Aw, crap. Pariah? Kell Mossa?” I pushed my glasses up on my nose and crossed from behind the glass counter.  

The man’s head snapped up and he looked me in the eye.

“I…..I don’t know you. Should I?” he hesitated, looking around nervously. I knew why. Wherever THIS guy appeared, disaster soon occurred.

“Uh, oh. No. You shouldn’t. Name’s John. John Black.” I smiled and nodded curtly, following his nervous gaze. He noticed.

“You…know why I’m here.” A statement. Not a question.

“Sorry that I do. Will this be local, or is the whole planet done for?”

“Local! Local. I…I…a meteor hit. Just this building, I think. Are there many here? We may have time to get them out…”

“No. Just me. And I’m guessing if you appeared in the only store with a living person in it, it was to let me know I’m the only one that’s going to bite the bullet.” I picked my soda up off the end of the counter and drew a sip. Offered it to him too. He stared at it in a dazed way, then accepted it, taking a long draught.

“Yes. NO. I came to take you out of here BEFORE!” Pariah dropped the empty bottle and grabbed my arm, seeming to suddenly remember his original mission.

“Okay.” I wasn’t going to argue. Especially since I thought I could hear the high pitched whistle of something like a dropping bomb approaching. But that would be silly, since the meteor would be travelling faster than the sound it generated by its passage. Right??

“We’re away!” and in that moment, I wasn’t sure if I was experiencing teleport with the colorfully clothed scientist, or the meteor hit the shop with me inside. The sounds and sensations probably would have been the same either way.

Then, I saw and heard nothing. Couldn’t feel anything either. Couldn’t even tell how long it was like this. Just knew I was awake and alert. Unable to experience anything. Then, reality came back. Or, rather we came back to a reality. Note, I’m saying “A” reality. Because MY reality didn’t make provision for dimensional jumping people, or much of anything else fun. My reality specialized in death and taxes. That was about it. Color was bright. Almost blindingly so for the first second. And sound. That incredible freight train howl. It was there and then gone again.

Everything was blurry. I swayed back and forth a bit, and might have hit the concrete if Pariah hadn’t been holding on to my arm still. Concrete. A city block. I raised my eyes and looked upon the Hall of Justice. The 1973 Superfriends TV cartoon Hall of Justice. I felt my breath shorten. My eyes rolled back and everything went dark.

“THIS is our help??” a voice grumbled, a voice I knew quite well. From a cartoon. George Newbern; the voice of superman for many years. I opened my eyes to see Superman hovering over me. Not LITTERLLY hovering, but, concerned hovering. In this reality, he looked like a cross between Kirk Alyn and Christopher Reeves. Leaning more towards Reeves. I just thanked god silently he didn’t look and sound like Brandon Routh. I would have had to leave.

“Help?” I murmured, sitting up. “I don’t know how much help I can be to the Justice League.”

“That’s what we’d like to know.” Kevin Conroy’s voice. The Batman. I turned to look as the Dark Knight stepped from the shadows in the large room. He was built like Superman, and just as tall. He didn’t really resemble any movie or TV incarnation. Just as well. They never HAD nailed that one as far as I was concerned.

“Aside from my encyclopediaic knowledge of the Justice League and DC Universe in general, prior to 1985, I really have no clue.” I shrugged, swinging my feet over the side of the cot and sitting up fully. “Sorry for the fainting spell. Quite a shock to meet you people in person.” I said ruefully.

“And why would that be?” Superman asked.

“In my universe, you don’t exist. You’re comic book, movie and TV characters, created to entertain the moronic masses.” I rubbed the back of my neck.  

“Interesting.” Batman murmured, “So why then did Pariah bring YOU here? What help can you be to us?”

“What help do you need? What’s the problem?” I swung my feet off the cot. Superman offered his arm to help me up. I took ahold of his hand and stood. Kal-El of Krypton winced. Batman looked startled. Me too.

“That’s…some grip you have there Mister….” Superman said, drawing his hand back somewhat gingerly.

“Black. John Black. Not possible. I’m from Earth. Not Krypton or Daxam.” I looked at my own hands. Something was different. I patted myself down experimentally.

“Possibly a side effect of the differences in the Quantum Signature of his home universe, versus our own.” Mister Terrific chimed in from across the room. He seemed to be intimately involved with something on the computer in front of him. “Superman, he’s here. We must go.”

“Who? Go where?” I asked, following the heroes who were rapidly moving for the door.

“Prime.” Batman said grimly.

“Oh shit on a shingle. Superboy Prime???” I squeaked.

Superman nodded glumly. I knew why. He didn’t have the gas to tackle this alternate version of himself alone. If they were calling him Prime, it meant THIS Superman before me was post Crisis, and significantly weaker than the earlier Prime Superboy incarnation. Prime was leftover from the idiotic re-write of the DC universe, some 25 years before – Crisis on Infinite Earths. It had been the ruination of the continuum for a lot of fans. I myself didn’t read DC for many years because of it.

Superboy Prime was as powerful as the Pre-Crisis Superman. When the universes all had merged, Superman himself was re-written at about his golden age power level. Prime was never re-written. Which made him substantially more powerful than just about everyone.

“You’re going to fight him, then?” I asked.

“What else can we do?”

“Live to fight another day!!! Where’s the Green Lantern Corps???”

“Trying to scare up the help to stop Prime and Darkseid’s armies.” Batman replied tersely.

“Captain Marvel?”

“Prime beat the snot out of him. Didn’t kill him, just messed him up deliberately. Really bad.” The Flash had suddenly appeared beside us. The Wally West version. I was a Barry Allen man, myself. Another idiotic move of the First Crisis series.

“Amazo!?!”

They stopped.

“The android. I never considered it.” Mister Teriffic said thoughtfully.

“We’d have to get him from Doctor Fate’s pocket dimension.” Flash said. “I’m on it.” And the Scarlet Speedster was gone.

“FAKER!!!” a deafening roar. “PRETENDER, COME OUT AND DIE LIKE A MAN.”

Superman sighed.

“Prime.”

I looked at my hands. My body was different to me. Height was the same. But there was something. Then I saw my reflection in the doors we were approaching. I stopped, stunned. The reflection standing with these legendary heroes could not be me. I was forty one years old. Going grey. Most would have called me morbidly obese. The reflection in the door was a man massing the same as me, but, solid muscle. I looked like Lou Ferrigno when he played the Hulk on TV.

“Uh, I’ll be right back.” I turned and ran back into the Hall of Justice. Batman noted to himself, at the same speed apparently, as the Flash could move.

Superman glanced back and shrugged.

“Can’t blame the man. He’s not used to this. Truth to tell, I don’t feel much like getting my butt handed to me either…..”

***********************************************************

The toughest part was the logo. He didn’t exist in this universe. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t. So I had to create the logo from scratch. Which apparently, I could do at super-speed. Relief. I added the flourish of doing the logo as a needle-point instead of an iron on. I stripped right there and changed clothes.

***********************************************************

The thud was sickening as Superboy Prime pummled this universe’ Superman. Bones could actually be heard to break. Batman winced, watching helplessly as Kal-El swayed drunkenly, trying to stay upright. Someone throw in the towel, he thought. But this was a fight to the death.

“HEY! PANSY-BOY.” Batman turned to look and see the newcomer striding from the Hall of Justice, wearing a red suit with a strange logo on the front. Suddenly, he had a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. One he knew well. The Dark Knight spun to find Pariah was standing beside him, a VERY uncharacteristic smile on his face.

“What’s there to be happy about?” Batman snarled, as Superman dropped to his knees.

“Watch. You’re actually going to enjoy this.” The scientist replied gleefully.

Prime glared at the newcomer, and with less than a thought, used his heat vision on him.

****************************************************************

I saw it coming. Actually thought I was a goner. Then, it DID hit me. I was shocked by the impact of Superboy Prime’s Heat Vision. It actually…..tickled???

Casually, I continued walking, right up to where Superman lay at his counterpart’s feet. Prime stopped firing, stunned that I still existed. Gently, I picked up the fallen hero and walked him back to Batman and Mister Terrific and Pariah, who’s SMILE disturbed me greatly.

“Here ya go. My turn. Nice to have met you all. Time to get my ass kicked.”

“You shrugged off his heat vision!!” Mister Teriffic hissed, “You’re at LEAST his equal. Maybe stronger. THAT’S why Pariah brought you here!!!”

I looked at the harbinger of doom for the DC Universe. He was still smiling broadly. I started to grin pretty stupidly myself. Turning, I walked quickly back to the still stunned Superboy.

“I’ve never started a fight in my life. You’ll have to hit me first.” I said calmly.

The blow was beyond lightning fast. There was enough power behind it to shatter a mountain. I moved my jaw slightly. It felt like it might bruise. It actually hurt. But, not dehabilitatingly so. Prime was now looking at me in awe.

“NOW, my turn.” I deliberately moved forward and stepped on his foot, pinning him to the spot. He was shorter than I, mainly because of his age. 17- maybe 18 years old. Not quite at full size for Superman. Then I cut loose. The first blows landing handily. His nose was bloodied, his eye blacked, I think I even chipped one of his teeth. Then the staggering refugee from a dead universe freed himself from my foot and took to the sky.

I looked back at Batman and the others as they ministered to Superman.

“Don’t just stand there! Go AFTER him!!!” Batman roared.

Startled, I looked up at the rapidly dwindling dot that was my enemy. Could I fly, too? Was it too much to hope for? I went into a low crouch, and sprang upwards, shrieking as I took to the air like an Apollo Rocket Booster.

I FELT like Ralph Hinckley as I desperately tried to right my flight and go in the direction of my target. It took precious seconds to do. And when I finally did manage some small amount of control, he was gone. I squinted, looking around desperately realizing I had telescopic vision, too. To no avail.

            My landing was more comical than my takeoff. The crater where I hit headfirst, again screaming, was deep enough, so that only my feet stuck out about ground level. It  was rather mortifying……

            The only saving grace was the sound of Superman’s hysterical laughter, combined with his painful yelps.

            “HAHAHAHAHa…OWWW..hahahah..ow ow ow!!!”

            “I don’t think it’s very funny.” I grumbled loudly, crawling out of the pit, spitting out a mouthful or gravel and dusting myself off.

            Batman nodded.

            “I don’t either. Now, Darkseid will know we’ve got an Ace in the Hole. It will give him time to fallback, regroup and come up with something. Whatever it is, you know it will be even LESS pleasant than Prime. And YOU Sir, despite the obvious power level, have no experience.”

            Pariah nodded amiably. “True. But YOU all can teach him the basics. There’s enough time for that.”

            Curiously, I turned my gaze on Superman, who was still being supported by Mister Terrific and Batman. I squinted, suddenly able to see broken ribs, which were already knitting themselves together. His battered countenance also was healing rapidly.

I nodded in satisfaction. My powers seemed to duplicate his. Just greater.  Greater even, than Superboy Prime’s. Which meant I was probably on a level with the Superman of MY youth, the late 60s and early 70s. BEFORE the Sandcreature had drained off about a third of his strength. Superior to Prime. Superior by far, even to Darkseid. But I was going to have to be VERY careful. I didn’t know how to use or control even a fraction of what I was capable of here. It seems the choice of the Greatest American Hero costume really WAS apropos. I was going to be a royal screw-up for a while. *sigh* SO what ELSE was new…

            “Let’s get inside. We’ve got some time. You guys have a Danger Room or something? I need to practice….”