Hello out there, true believers! This is not my first fic on ff.net, but
it is my first Darkstalkers fic, and also my first crossover effort.
Before you read, I have to say that all disclaimers apply to this fic. I
don't own Darkstalkers or Evil Dead, they belong to their respective
companies, such as Capcom and New Line Cinema. Now that the professional
stuff is over, let me say that I am putting a lot of creative effort into
this fic, and I hope you all enjoy it. Read on!
Dawn. A time of awakening. The sunlight slowly bathes the earth, chasing away the shadows of night, and all the creatures that thrive on the dark retreat into their corners to roost till the next dusk. The sun's rays fell down onto the small town of Deerwood, bringing warmth, comfort, and hope to all. Save one.
Ashley Williams, Ash as he preferred to be called by his friends, stood before his mirror, buttoning up his shirt. He had become rather adept at it, considering he had to do it with one hand. His other hand was gone, cut off clean at the wrist, and had since been replaced by a smooth metal cover for the stump at the end of his arm. He was a dark haired, average looking man. His face would be considered handsome, except for the numerous scars and blemishes that decorated it. He was able to ignore those too.
Once he was done dressing, he made a lengthily inspection of his home. He started in his bedroom, checking under his bed. Against the opposite wall was a bookshelf, containing mostly books about ancient mythology, and some how to guides to hand-to-hand combat. On one of the shelves there was a metal gauntlet, straight out of medieval times. He looked in his closet, ignoring the strange looking chainsaw that leaned against the wall inside. He inspected every room, checking behind and under all the furniture, and in each of the cupboards. He checked each window and door to be sure they were locked. He then set about the part of his daily inspections that he hated the worst.
He went into the basement. He hurried down the stairs and flicked on the light, like a child afraid monsters were waiting in the dark. He power walked across the room to the massive safe that dominated a whole corner of the basement. He opened it quickly, made sure its contents were still intact, and then closed it again, slamming the door and locking it.
With this done, he set about preparing for work. He returned to his bedroom, grabbing his S-Mart vest and his sawed off shotgun that leaned against the wall next to his bed, where he had left it the previous night. He slid his vest on and departed for work, making sure the front and back doors were tightly locked. He had five locks on each of the doors. As he drove to work, he could not help but consider the state of his life. Things had settled into a rather pleasant sort of routine, considering the bizarre events of the past. Most of the people of his town considered him something of an oddball. They all laughed at his stories of traveling through time and battling demons and zombies (deadites as he called them). But they could laugh all they wanted, he knew the truth.
And he knew what was in that safe in his basement. In its native tongue, it was called the Necronomicon Ex Mortis, roughly translated, The Book of the Dead. Ash had past experiences with this item that he preferred forget, and the fact that it was in his house was the source of what many of the townsfolk saw as paranoia. It was the reason he slept with his shotgun nearby, why he kept a crucifix in every room, why he had five locks on his front and back doors and on every window, why he did these inspections every day upon waking and before going to bed. After it had come into his possession, he had tried to destroy it, only to find that he could not. Fire would not burn it, the pages would not tear. And so, he kept it where he knew it was safe.
The book was not the only item that Ash kept in that safe. Alongside it was a ceremonial dagger that he had found along with the book. It was a hideous thing, the blade was notched and crooked. There was a strange sort of writing on it, Ash believed they were called runes. The hilt was made in the shape of a skeleton. On the blade there was still flecks of dried blood from its previous exploits. Ash did not bother to wash it off.
On a shelf below those items were things of more recent date. There was a folder and a notepad, filled with the notations of the late Professor Knowby and his daughter Annie. The pages contained all of their extensive research on the Necronomicon. Next to the documents there was a tape recorder, which contained the only recorder translation of the book. All of this was knowledge Ash knew to be too dangerous to risk falling into anyone else's hands.
Ash pulled into the parking lot of the S-Mart, parking in his favorite space. He smirked to himself. Having only one hand was not entirely a disadvantage. He got to use the handicapped parking spaces, and he received handicap benefits, including a higher salary. Ash threw a blanket onto the backseat, covering his shotgun, and headed inside.
A world away...
"You are certain of its authenticity?" the deep, cultured voice of Dimitri Maximoff droned. He examined the paper in his hand, not entirely sure what to believe. If it was true, then he could not afford to miss the opportunity. If not, then someone would suffer dearly.
"We are certain, my lord" came the response. One of Dimitri's many servants currently groveled before his master, his eyes never rising to meet the face of Dimitri, for those who served him came to consider him as too magnificent to look upon. Others would not look at him for fear of being cursed. "It is a genuine page from the Necronomicon, the true Book of the Dead. And with it, power beyond mortal imaginings."
"But not beyond mine" Maximoff mused aloud. He scratched his chin and considered. "And what of the rest of the book?"
"We are uncertain of its location, but using that page we believe we can locate the whole text. It can be yours, my lord. All you have to do is give the order." Maximoff remained silent in thought for several moments. He had heard the stories of the Necronomicon, of its raising whole legions of the walking dead to feast upon the souls of the living, of its opening gateways that lead through time, event through whole dimensions. And that was but the merest extent of its potential. In the right hands, who knew?
"Very well" Maximoff gruffly stated. "Begin your quest immediately. Bring me the book, or be prepared to have your own head brought to me in exchange." Maximoff remained seated in his throne for several minutes after his servant left. He eventually rose and strode across the great throne chamber to one of the massive windows that overlooked the village below.
"Getting ambitious, are we Demitri?" came a seductive voice from all around. It did not phase Maximoff. He kept his back turned to Morrigan Aensland as she gracefully stepped out from the shadows. "You know the myths of the Necronomicon. The keepers of the Demon World refused to touch the thing. Why should you wish to begin playing with it?"
"My reasons are my own, Morrigan." He said over his shoulder. Morrigan came up behind him and laced her dainty arms around his massive shoulders.
"And should you perhaps find something within its pages that displeases you?" she purred in one of his pointy ears.
"Then this whole world shall shudder under my wrath," he growled. He spun around, gripping her delicate shoulders with his large hands. He drew her near, his heavy breaths blowing some of her silky green hair away from her face.
"And what is there in it for me if you find what you seek?" she whispered playfully. Maximoff frowned.
"Consideration of a place in the greater world I shall create from the ashes of the Demon World" he huffed. He pushed her away. Morrigan chuckled at him. Her chuckles grew to all out laughter as Maximoff stalked from the room. Her laughter was arrogant and mocking. She flicked some of her hair back from her shoulder, and then her entire body melted into a swarm of glowing bats. The swarm danced in the air and fluttered out the window, vanishing into the night.
There was a third figure now, perched on the roof of Maximoff's castle. She was similar to Morrigan, although considerably smaller in almost every physical measure. Her legs dangled over the edge of the room, kicking back and forth in the air. She titled her head to the side and smiled mischievously as she watched Morrigan's departure.
"Ooh look, kiddies with candy" Lilith Aensland giggled as she stood up, spreading the wings that sprouted off from her back. She leapt into the night air and took flight.
Dawn. A time of awakening. The sunlight slowly bathes the earth, chasing away the shadows of night, and all the creatures that thrive on the dark retreat into their corners to roost till the next dusk. The sun's rays fell down onto the small town of Deerwood, bringing warmth, comfort, and hope to all. Save one.
Ashley Williams, Ash as he preferred to be called by his friends, stood before his mirror, buttoning up his shirt. He had become rather adept at it, considering he had to do it with one hand. His other hand was gone, cut off clean at the wrist, and had since been replaced by a smooth metal cover for the stump at the end of his arm. He was a dark haired, average looking man. His face would be considered handsome, except for the numerous scars and blemishes that decorated it. He was able to ignore those too.
Once he was done dressing, he made a lengthily inspection of his home. He started in his bedroom, checking under his bed. Against the opposite wall was a bookshelf, containing mostly books about ancient mythology, and some how to guides to hand-to-hand combat. On one of the shelves there was a metal gauntlet, straight out of medieval times. He looked in his closet, ignoring the strange looking chainsaw that leaned against the wall inside. He inspected every room, checking behind and under all the furniture, and in each of the cupboards. He checked each window and door to be sure they were locked. He then set about the part of his daily inspections that he hated the worst.
He went into the basement. He hurried down the stairs and flicked on the light, like a child afraid monsters were waiting in the dark. He power walked across the room to the massive safe that dominated a whole corner of the basement. He opened it quickly, made sure its contents were still intact, and then closed it again, slamming the door and locking it.
With this done, he set about preparing for work. He returned to his bedroom, grabbing his S-Mart vest and his sawed off shotgun that leaned against the wall next to his bed, where he had left it the previous night. He slid his vest on and departed for work, making sure the front and back doors were tightly locked. He had five locks on each of the doors. As he drove to work, he could not help but consider the state of his life. Things had settled into a rather pleasant sort of routine, considering the bizarre events of the past. Most of the people of his town considered him something of an oddball. They all laughed at his stories of traveling through time and battling demons and zombies (deadites as he called them). But they could laugh all they wanted, he knew the truth.
And he knew what was in that safe in his basement. In its native tongue, it was called the Necronomicon Ex Mortis, roughly translated, The Book of the Dead. Ash had past experiences with this item that he preferred forget, and the fact that it was in his house was the source of what many of the townsfolk saw as paranoia. It was the reason he slept with his shotgun nearby, why he kept a crucifix in every room, why he had five locks on his front and back doors and on every window, why he did these inspections every day upon waking and before going to bed. After it had come into his possession, he had tried to destroy it, only to find that he could not. Fire would not burn it, the pages would not tear. And so, he kept it where he knew it was safe.
The book was not the only item that Ash kept in that safe. Alongside it was a ceremonial dagger that he had found along with the book. It was a hideous thing, the blade was notched and crooked. There was a strange sort of writing on it, Ash believed they were called runes. The hilt was made in the shape of a skeleton. On the blade there was still flecks of dried blood from its previous exploits. Ash did not bother to wash it off.
On a shelf below those items were things of more recent date. There was a folder and a notepad, filled with the notations of the late Professor Knowby and his daughter Annie. The pages contained all of their extensive research on the Necronomicon. Next to the documents there was a tape recorder, which contained the only recorder translation of the book. All of this was knowledge Ash knew to be too dangerous to risk falling into anyone else's hands.
Ash pulled into the parking lot of the S-Mart, parking in his favorite space. He smirked to himself. Having only one hand was not entirely a disadvantage. He got to use the handicapped parking spaces, and he received handicap benefits, including a higher salary. Ash threw a blanket onto the backseat, covering his shotgun, and headed inside.
A world away...
"You are certain of its authenticity?" the deep, cultured voice of Dimitri Maximoff droned. He examined the paper in his hand, not entirely sure what to believe. If it was true, then he could not afford to miss the opportunity. If not, then someone would suffer dearly.
"We are certain, my lord" came the response. One of Dimitri's many servants currently groveled before his master, his eyes never rising to meet the face of Dimitri, for those who served him came to consider him as too magnificent to look upon. Others would not look at him for fear of being cursed. "It is a genuine page from the Necronomicon, the true Book of the Dead. And with it, power beyond mortal imaginings."
"But not beyond mine" Maximoff mused aloud. He scratched his chin and considered. "And what of the rest of the book?"
"We are uncertain of its location, but using that page we believe we can locate the whole text. It can be yours, my lord. All you have to do is give the order." Maximoff remained silent in thought for several moments. He had heard the stories of the Necronomicon, of its raising whole legions of the walking dead to feast upon the souls of the living, of its opening gateways that lead through time, event through whole dimensions. And that was but the merest extent of its potential. In the right hands, who knew?
"Very well" Maximoff gruffly stated. "Begin your quest immediately. Bring me the book, or be prepared to have your own head brought to me in exchange." Maximoff remained seated in his throne for several minutes after his servant left. He eventually rose and strode across the great throne chamber to one of the massive windows that overlooked the village below.
"Getting ambitious, are we Demitri?" came a seductive voice from all around. It did not phase Maximoff. He kept his back turned to Morrigan Aensland as she gracefully stepped out from the shadows. "You know the myths of the Necronomicon. The keepers of the Demon World refused to touch the thing. Why should you wish to begin playing with it?"
"My reasons are my own, Morrigan." He said over his shoulder. Morrigan came up behind him and laced her dainty arms around his massive shoulders.
"And should you perhaps find something within its pages that displeases you?" she purred in one of his pointy ears.
"Then this whole world shall shudder under my wrath," he growled. He spun around, gripping her delicate shoulders with his large hands. He drew her near, his heavy breaths blowing some of her silky green hair away from her face.
"And what is there in it for me if you find what you seek?" she whispered playfully. Maximoff frowned.
"Consideration of a place in the greater world I shall create from the ashes of the Demon World" he huffed. He pushed her away. Morrigan chuckled at him. Her chuckles grew to all out laughter as Maximoff stalked from the room. Her laughter was arrogant and mocking. She flicked some of her hair back from her shoulder, and then her entire body melted into a swarm of glowing bats. The swarm danced in the air and fluttered out the window, vanishing into the night.
There was a third figure now, perched on the roof of Maximoff's castle. She was similar to Morrigan, although considerably smaller in almost every physical measure. Her legs dangled over the edge of the room, kicking back and forth in the air. She titled her head to the side and smiled mischievously as she watched Morrigan's departure.
"Ooh look, kiddies with candy" Lilith Aensland giggled as she stood up, spreading the wings that sprouted off from her back. She leapt into the night air and took flight.