DEATH AND DESTINY
by EGL (aka Doctor Strange)
PROLOGUE
"Because I could not stop for Death--
He kindly stopped for me--
The Carriage held but just Ourselves--
And Immortality."
- Emily Dickinson, Because I Could Not Stop For Death
She is
here… finally. He could feel her immutable presence… just
around the corner. He could feel the finite space between them
drawing close. She comes. She comes. He repeated the thought
again. It felt right. He had come prepared. All contingencies were
covered. He suppressed his growing excitement... or apprehension? He
was not sure.
He must wait. Yes, I can wait. What is a few hours compared to millennia? He waited in silence.
CHAPTER 1
She caught her breath and leaned on the grimy wall. The dank smell of rot assailed her flaring nostrils. She panted for air. It was suffocating. She could hear the inexorable dripping of liquid sewage through the cracks of the walls. Around the tunnel's dark corners, rats scurried noisily. She could hear the faint shouts of her pursuers. They have tracked her again. She massaged her aching legs. They felt like lead. Her heart was pounding like a mad fist deep inside her chest. She had been running for nearly three hours. She pushed off and started again.
She felt her way with her hands as she groped through the dark. She stumbled as she tripped over unseen putrid objects. Yet, she sloshed on despite the numbing feeling of her tired feet inside her sodden shoes. She had to escape. She will not go back. Fear and terror goaded her and fueled her failing resolve. Despite her exhaustion, she dogged on. The thought of being caught again… She shuddered uncontrollably. She wanted to scream.
She felt an opening shaft on the left and she slipped in. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the underground map. Follow the shaft. Then exit on the right. Then down several yards. Then take the ramp on the third exit. It will bring me to the main train tunnel. Follow the railings, and I'll reach the surface.
Then without a warning, a shrill voice screamed inside her head. She fell on the floor. She gasped as the voice became louder and louder… until the several voices joined in. Then hundreds. Then a thousand voices wailing inside her head. An avalanche of voices that buried her senses and deadened her mind. She shivered as she felt the death of another being. She sensed the dead soul inside her while 'seeing' its last moments. It was a homeless bum. She 'felt' the poor creature writhed in pain as his body was burned with a thousand bursts of electricity. Her hunters had killed another.
She forced herself to calm down and controlled her breathing. She soothed the troubled voices in her head and buffered her mind mentally from their searing panic. She shivered again. The ugly taint of death-energy made her skin crawl. Her neural clips on both sides of her temples hummed to life as it accommodated the surge of raw psychic energy.
She stood up and trudged on. With tears streaming down her face, she cursed silently her fate. She just wanted the voices to stop. She could not remember anymore the time when there were no voices – to move about with emptiness in her thoughts. Just her and her thoughts. It has been years since she was 'normal'. She could hardly recall her past just before the voices started pouring in… eversince the changes came and claimed her and her mind.
CHAPTER 2
She remembered dimly a homeless deranged woman, screaming about the pain; the pain of the horrible voices, the never-ending torment. She remembered feeling being burned from deep within, a deep roiling fire inside her head. She remembered being consumed, and the voices jeering on. She could feel it building inside her. Then when she felt she would go faint with the terrible roiling energies within her, the air around her exploded. For a moment, the voices were silent. Then, she saw two policemen dead at her feet. Then she 'heard' their souls inside her head again. And the cycle began again. The wailing voices. She was terrified that she accidentally caused their deaths. She was lost to the world.
Then a dark man approached her. A man made of dark shadows and pale light. A strange man with red eyes. He called himself Sinister. He offered his assistance to her. He told her that he will help her understand her condition. He will help heal her… for a price. She said yes immediately. She will pay anything for she sorely wanted it to be over. With a wicked smile, Sinister said, "From now on my dear Threnody, you will be my little pretty death-song." And Threnody was born.
Through Sinister, Threnody learned that she was a mutant. Her mind had a certain affinity to dying mortals. It was like an empathic sponge. Whenever a human life was extinguished, Threnody absorbed the released psionic death-energies and stored them in her body. Aside from the death-energies, she also absorbed bits and pieces of the psyche of the dead. Sinister deduced that perhaps the dead psyches were intricately woven together with the death-energies. The so-called voices ruminated inside her mind… staying for days… weeks… until they were eroded away by new voices. The voices disappeared also whenever she expended energy. Sinister taught Threnody to release her accumulating energies as explosive bursts which he called lovingly as 'death charges'. He also gave Threnody devices called neural clips to control her energy releases. In return, she became Sinister's so-called living conduit, monitoring Sinister's worldwide network of information sources.
Using Sinister's vast databases, Threnody discovered the truth surrounding her employer and savior. She found out that Sinister had planned to use her and his other minions to further his genetic experimentations: to create the perfect mutant. Threnody then bided her time, gathering useful information that might help her escape. When she finally ran away, Sinister set the Marauders, Sinister's vicious personal strikeforce of cloned mutants, on her. Threnody ran and was nearly caught. Then, a mysterious young man, Nate Grey stopped them.
Nate Grey was different… Laconic, strange, and filled with so much anger… Yet, lonely and confused. Threnody found out that he too was a mutant, a very powerful telepath and telekinetic at that. Their mutual sadness drew them close. For a while, they had a semblance of a 'normal' relationship. Their attraction grew, but their ideals were different. Nate wanted to use his abilities to help humanity. Threnody wanted nothing to do with anyone. Her bitterness over her own life made her selfish. She wanted only Nate – just both of them… Alone. Let the world go to hell. But Nate refused. Again, Threnody left.
She began lurking underneath the city. Losing herself inside the Morlocks tunnels. Losing her sanity once again. The voices were increasingly becoming difficult to control. Worse, she was losing herself to the death-energies. Threnody was beginning to hunger for them… becoming addicted. She would skulk in hospitals, reveling in the death-energies. In her lucid moments, she wanted to die. She wandered around like a ghost, mute and lost.
But… recently… she found out that she was pregnant, and the tiny life within made Threnody truly see herself for the first time, and she was horrified at what she saw: a dispossessed woman driven by despair and grief. How wretched she had become! For the first time… Threnody longed to see the light, to see the surface, to breath the fresh air. After years of shunning the 'normal' folks and hiding in the dark recesses of the sewers, Threnody yearned a new life for her unborn child.
Then… Sinister came. He sent his minions to claim her again… Again she ran. Terror gripped her anew… for Sinister's plan for her was much worse now. Sinister was now asking for the payment for his services. Sinister wanted her child.
CHAPTER 3
Threnody followed the shaft. As she searched for the exit, the far wall behind her collapsed. Flaring electrical bolts burst through the yawning gap. Threnody's heart chilled as a dark figure came out. A masked man with goggles grinned at her. He wore a dark leather bodysuit, riddled with electrical wirings. Every movement was punctuated with sparks of fiery electricity. Before he could react, Threnody released her death charges at him. The blast blew him away towards the opposite wall. He went down with a muffled groan. Threnody then sent the ceiling crashing down on the figure before he could recover. Sinister had taught her well: Do not give your opponents room to breathe.
Threnody sensed a new voice in her head. The voice was angry and vengeful at her. The electrical mutant had died beneath the rubble. Again, her neural clips on her temples hummed as the death-energy of the dead man flowed inside her. Threnody felt like retching, but she suppressed it. She moved away fast and searched for the exit.
Threnody heard an angry snarl and a guttural hiss behind her. Running footsteps were nearing her fast. Something dark and spidery jumped in front of her and blocked her way. She let the death charges flow out of her, but the thing swiftly eluded her explosive blasts. Without pause, the thing made a low dive towards her and grabbed Threnody from behind. Her hands were wrenched behind her back while her head was yanked backwards. Threnody yowled in pain. She came face to face with a semi-humanoid figure. It had four eyes which were glowing yellow slits. The nose was flattened into small horny ridges. The creature's dark skin reminded Threnody of a crab's carapace. The thing was tall and slender with insectile extremities. It was a sci-fi alien nightmare that came to life. The thing made a deep hiss-like gurgle. Spit was dripping down the creature's bared mouth which was ringed with small needle teeth. Threnody coughed. Its breath was akin to rotten cabbages.
Threnody futilely tried to escape but she was held fast. She closed her eyes and concentrated. She sent a barrage of concussive blasts at the creature's midsection. It hissed in pain. Threnody felt its savage hold loosen, and she slip down. Threnody directed another wave of death charges at the mutant's head. Threnody moved away in time when the thing swiped at her. Again, Threnody collapsed the ceiling and buried the poor creature. She sensed its death. Her neural clips hummed again. Threnody felt sick.
She ran for the exit. As she rounded the next bend, Threnody stopped in her tracks. A small lean man was crouching several yards in front of her. The man grinned at her with his yellowed shark-like teeth. His long dark hair was slicked back into a ponytail. His gloves were tipped with silver talons that looked menacingly sharp. She heard him say gruffly, "I feel suddenly sorry for you." He winked at Threnody as he crept slowly towards her. Taut muscles rippled beneath his black bodysuit. Threnody immediately sent an explosive death charge at his grinning face.
He easily dodged the blast with feral grace. Threnody sent another death charge. He simply feinted left. She concentrated and sent another volley. The man chuckled loudly as he dodged each explosion. "You fight like a girl," he said and laughed.
Threnody's face was beaded with sweat. She was angry, and she was losing focus. Threnody knew that the man was teasing her and wearing her down. His seeming liquid moves infuriated her. Threnody knew she was no match for this mutant. She was too tired to outrun him and too fatigued for a melee fight. Plus, from the sound of her neural clips, her death charges were dangerously low.
The man sneered again, "I grow weary. It's about time we end this little dance." He winked at her as he crouched. His muscles tensed as he readied himself to leap at her… Without warning, several large looming hands from the shadows suddenly grabbed him from behind before he could pounce. Through the gloom, she could not identify who the man was fighting with. It seemed there were several of them.
CHAPTER 4
Threnody jumped at the opportunity and hurried away. She could hear the angry snarls of the man as it fought whatever adversaries he was facing. Threnody paused momentarily as the dead psyche of the bestial mutant poured into her. She 'felt' the mutant's neck being snapped in two. Her neural clips hummed again with fresh energy. Threnody felt her bile rising, and she vomited. She forced herself to move.
Then they appeared before her. With well-honed instincts, Threnody threw her death charges at them. The tunnel shook with violent force. Threnody rushed through the debris and dust. She saw several broken bodies strewn on the floor. Threnody stilled herself for the incoming slew of dead voices. But none came. Threnody stopped and eyed the bodies closely. There was no blood. No entrails. No scent of dead flesh. Threnody stepped closer. The bodies were made entirely of stone.
She heard a sound behind her. She turned around and saw six figures drawing near. They were all made of stone… Moving statues! Threnody sent them another charge. Three of the statues exploded. The rest continued their approach. Threnody was mildly fascinated by their fluid yet slow movements. She caught herself out of her reverie and moved back. As she turned, several statues blocked her way.
She blew them up… But more came. For every statue she destroyed, three appeared to replace them. Threnody kept blowing up the statues until the ground was littered with their disembodied rubble. Soon the tunnel was filled with hundreds of staring soundless statues. Threnody was surrounded by them. Her heart was racing. Her neural clips indicated her low energy reserves.
Then… Threnody noted that they were not attacking. They merely stood still, staring blindly at her; their silent gaze and immobility menacingly eerie. She neared a statue and tentatively touched its face. It did not flinch. Threnody marveled at the details. The edges and lines were smooth. It seemed quite remarkably human... except for the gray granite appearance. Threnody moved back. The statues seemed as if they were waiting.
Then a statue in front of her stepped forward. It held out an outstretched hand towards her. Several of the statues behind it moved back, forming a passageway. Threnody was puzzled. It took her several minutes to understand. They wanted her to follow them. Whoever owns these creatures of stones wanted to meet her. Threnody reviewed her options. Escape was nil. Her energy was nearly spent, and she was surrounded by hundreds of these unfeeling figures. Threnody had no choice but to submit. But then, she could bide her time again and plan her escape.
CHAPTER 5
Threnody placed her hand on the statue's outstretched hand. The statue then moved and led her away. The others silently pressed back as they moved through the throng of sightless mute beings. The statue that led Threnody was surprisingly agile. He moved as if he was not encumbered by his stony bulk. They exited the tunnel and then went down a large shaft. They turned left and followed a passageway. They kept on moving, following blind twist and turns, a labyrinth of passages which confounded Threnody. She was sure that the statue doubled back just to confuse her, but she was also sure that they were down several levels. They were now deep within the bowels of the city… way beneath the New York sewers. She had lived underground for quite a few years, but she had never been here. Sinisters' extensive maps of the undertunnels did not show these. Threnody also noticed the passageways. They were quite smooth… as if they were carved out… They were unlike Morlock tunnels. Threnody wondered who made these tunnels.
They were walking for nearly and hour or so. Threnody felt tired. The air was warm, stale, and suffocating. Sweat and dust covered Threnody. But the statue moved on without pause, pulling her along. When Threnody thought that the journey would never end, they stopped in front of a massive stone door. The door was made of smooth marble. Several torches with gold handles flanked it. The statue placed its palm on the door and stepped back. The door opened slowly. Threnody felt as if she was she was being swallowed whole as the statue led her inside.
She was inside a large subterranean hallway. Large columns lined the area. Each column was etched and carved with several human figures in different poses. Beneath the columns were statues holding torches. The place smelled heavily of incense. Threnody looked up. She could not discern the ceiling as it was swallowed into the darkness. The place was enormous. She could not help feeling like she was in a large crypt or being inside a tomb. Like being buried alive, she thought. The thought chilled her.
The end of the hallway led into a large chamber. The walls were plaster white with several blue and yellow markings and ebon hieroglyphics. Friezes of human figures also decorated the walls. A pedestal stood at the end of the chamber. It was surrounded by several large oil lamps that burned fiercely. A mass of statues lay prone on the ground in seeming supplication. She was led through the statues until she was at the foot of the pedestal. Then her guide joined the rest of his kind in silent prayer. Threnody waited, looking around, bewildered, not knowing what to expect. For some unknown reason, Threnody felt a slight familiarity with her surroundings… like déjà vu… like she was here before.
Then suddenly, the room itself shook violently. Threnody thought it was perhaps an earthquake. Then, she followed the sound and saw something rise from an opening on the pedestal floor. It was a large looming golden throne with its back towards her. Slowly, it rumbled and turned around… until the throne faced Threnody. On it sat another statue. The statue was made of smooth tan-colored stone, unlike the other statue's grey-granite. It wore a stone turban accented with a large sparkling red ruby. The statue also wore seeming flowing robes made incredibly entirely of stone. It showed a regal face with a full beard. The stone blind eyes stared at Threnody. She could feel the might and power emanating from this stone deity. Threnody was terrified. She knew this being from the files of Sinister.
Then the statue opened its mouth and spoke, "Welcome. Melody Jacobs isn't it?" His deep voice reverberated throughout the chamber. It was both warm and commanding. The voice seemed very familiar.
CHAPTER 6
Threnody licked her dry lips before speaking. She mustered enough will and replied, "Yes... You are Ozymandias." Threnody wanted to sound nonchalant and quip, but her answer sounded meek. Threnody cursed herself silently. She did not want to appear frail and meaningless in front of this monster.
"Yes, I am," Ozymandias simply intoned. His emotionless face stared back.
"I've heard about you," dared Threnody. Her voice sounded challenging. "You are with Apocalypse. You are one of his henchmen."
"Was, my dear." His words hanged in the air. Then he continued, "I believe you have gleaned that from Sinister's extensive databases. But since you have fallen from his employ, your information is rather not up-to-date." He shifted slightly as he adjusted his stone-robes. "I am no longer with En Sabah Nur. I am now free. Just like you are free from Sinister's clutches, so am I free from Apocalypse."
Threnody's head swam and asked defiantly, "Why did you bring me here?"
Ozymandias placed both his hands on his chin and leaned a bit forward. He appeared like a hawk ready to dive on its prey. His blind stone-eyes were watching her intensely. He said, "I foresaw it."
"What?"
"I 'saw' that we will meet."
"Why? What do you mean?" Threnody still could not understand. She felt tired.
Ozymandias chuckled. His voice showed amusement but the face was devoid of any emotion. He said, "Very inquisitive." He continued his mirth and asked, "What does Sinister's information say about me?"
"Nothing much. It says that you are one of the oldest minions of Apocalypse. And that you are made of stone. Background checks on your person have turned out nothing. It seems Apocalypse took pains to keep you obscure."
Ozymandias nodded as he replied, "En Sabah Nur did indeed."
"Why am I here?" she asked again.
He stared for a moment and responded calmly, "Fate, my dear… Fate."
CHAPTER 7
Ozymandias stood up and walked down the steps in front of the large platform. The large red ruby of his turban glinted ominously beneath the light of the oil lamps. Threnody was not sure how to feel. His eyes never left her face. It was as if he was seeing her bared soul. Threnody felt violated. It made her skin crawl.
Ozymandias stood before Threnody. He was a head taller than her. Threnody felt small and insignificant beside him. His looming presence. Cold bearing. Arrogant demeanor. And those terrible stone eyes. Threnody shivered.
Two pairs of statues stood in front of them. Each pair brought a divan. Ozymandias rode on one and was whisked away. Threnody cautiously climbed on the divan. It was soft and lined with rich crimson velvet. She noticed that it was filigreed with gold and decorated with gems. Threnody had never seen such opulence before. She reclined and closed her eyes. She found the swaying motions of the carrying statues soothing. She relaxed. She did not care where they brought her. She was too tired and hungry to care. Her mind hovered between sleep and wakefulness.
Threnody felt the divan stop. She opened her eyes with a start. She stood up immediately. The statues who brought her were nowhere to be seen. She looked around. She was inside a large beautiful room that caught her breath. On the walls were exotic paintings of beautiful women in different stages of undress. Lavish fur carpets littered the floor together with colorful tasseled pillows. A large ornate brass four poster bed dominated the corner of the room. Gauzy linens draped over the posts while the bed itself was a sea of midnight blue satin pillows and sheets. Hanging above were golden oil lamps and heady sweet incense. Several slim bronze tables were scattered throughout the room which held bowls of fruits. Threnody neared one table and looked hungrily at the fruits – dates, grapes, plums, pears, and berries.
Before she could decide which delectable fruit to eat, she was startled when four statues arrived. She was startled for two reasons. First, their sudden appearance took her completely by surprise. Second, the statues were different. They were all naked women. And they were made of smooth milky white marble. Threnody stared in awe at their beautiful curves.
They neared her with incredible lithe and grace. They led her through a side alcove which Threnody had not noticed earlier. They led her into another room. Candles were everywhere, making the room feel warm with its soft light. Threnody smiled when she realized where she was. She was being led into a bath.
CHAPTER 8
The white statues attended to her. They silently took her clothes off. Threnody initially resisted for she hated the idea of being naked in front of other people. But then she realized that the 'women' were not real. She chuckled at her folly, and eventually relented. When she was completely naked (except for her neural clips which Threnody adamantly refused to be removed), she was led into the bath. Rose petals floated on the warm foamy water. It felt warm and sweet when the water enveloped her body. The water smelled slightly of chamomile and lemon. One of the statues scrubbed her body. Another washed her face. Another washed her hair with something that smelled of fresh blossoms and lavender. The other statue kept pouring warm scented water over her. Threnody felt peaceful. The smell of grime, sweat, and sewage was gone. She had never been this clean for weeks.
After the final wash, they dried Threnody. The silent 'women' indicated that she should lie down on the couch beside the bath. Threnody lay prone and felt scented oil being rubbed all over her body. The 'women' started massaging and kneading her tired aching muscles. Threnody cooed at their ministrations. For once, the voices did not bother her with their wailings.
Then, they led her back to the room. Threnody stood in front of the mirror. She liked what she saw. Her wavy waist-length black hair was like ebon fire. Her dark enigmatic brown eyes. Her dark skin. The swell of her breasts. Her small waist. Her figure had become fuller, probably due to her pregnancy. She was not showing signs yet of being on the way. Probably she was on her eight or ninth week.
One of the statues held out to her several dresses. Threnody chose the dark green one. And efficiently they were all over her. They placed the dress over Threnody… combed and did her hair… placed sandals on her feet... jewelries on her neck, ears, fingers… Finally, they were done.
Threnody watched herself in the mirror. She hardly recognized herself. The woman in front of her had gold and green satin ribbons weaved into her hair which was drawn away from her face. Delicate tendrils of black hair touched her face lightly at the sides, hiding her neural clips. Her eyes were framed with delicate kohl. And her lips had a touch of reddened mocha. Her cheeks were rouged lightly, giving her a light blush. Clusters of diamonds and emeralds dangled from her ears. Her neck sported a golden choker with a large emerald scarab, ringed with diamonds. Her dark green dress draped over her figure, which was cinched below her breasts with a golden braided cord. Her fingers had small serpent gold rings with emerald eyes. The effect was stunning. Threnody was in awe at her beauty. She never dreamed that she could be as beautiful as this. She felt like a… queen. And the thought disturbed her immensely.
She stared again at her image in different angles. She never saw herself as this before, but a nagging feeling at the back of her mind worried her. She felt at ease with her new look… as if she was used to it. Threnody shook her head.
The statues with the divan were back. She reclined on her transport while the 'women' fussed over her dress. Then they brought her out into the murky corridor. Threnody could not see where they were heading for it was dark. She could only hear the shuffle of the heavy stone feet as they led her somewhere. Threnody concluded that light was not necessary here among the denizens of Ozymandias' kingdom. Then, Threnody saw a light from afar, and it seemed that they were heading towards the lightsource. Threnody was right.
The statues stopped in front of a well-lighted hallway. The women led Threnody in. She was inside a dining hall. Tapestries hung on the walls. Oil lamps hung from above. Threnody sat down. She noticed that the dishes were fine white bone china with the edges gilded with gold. The slim goblets were also gold, decorated with rubies and opal. The utensils also were made of gold. Threnody marveled again at the richness of the place. Again, that nagging feeling of being used to such grandness hovered over her.
Then, the 'women' placed food in front of her. The smell of food made her stomach churn hungrily. Her meal started with warm seasoned broth with mussel and prawns. She then had curried steamed vegetables. Main course was lamb roast with mint sauce. Threnody was also given warm milk to which she drank greedily. The meal made her feel heady and satiated. She never tasted so much good food. The unique blending of the flavors and herbs tickled her palate.
CHAPTER 9
Threnody looked up and saw Ozymandias staring down at her from across the table, a silent sentinel. She did not know how long he stood there. He gestured her to follow him. The marble statues tailed Threnody also. Ozymandias lighted a torch before they started. Threnody knew that the torch was for her sake to which she was thankful. As they walked along the passageway, she noticed that every inch of the walls were covered with etched carvings. They weaved and turned with their footsteps hollowly resounding all over. Threnody again felt that awful feeling of claustrophobia. Like being buried alive. Like in a catacomb.
They finally reached an immense wooden door which Ozymandias opened with a mere push. The room was circular and large. Threnody's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. The 'women' immediately moved into the room and lighted several candles. They also took the torch from Ozymandias and placed it on a holder. Threnody again was amazed. The room was filled with books. Bookcases and shelves lined the walls up to the ceiling. Rolling ladders were strewn around. Columns of stacked books towered like a miniature cityscape – books, old tomes, scrolls, and parchments. At the side was a burning fireplace. Threnody smelled the sweet pungent scent of cedar mingled with herbs. Ozymandias sat on one of the two large soft squat chairs facing the fire. Threnody sat opposite him. The 'women' served her warm spiced tea to which she sipped gently. Suddenly, out of the gloom, a stone mastiff rushed at Ozymandias' side. He patted it affectionately. The mastiff then sat down at Ozymandias' feet. Threnody found the scene amusing.
She noted that everything here in this eerie place was grand, luxurious, or old. She could not comprehend it all. Everything dazed her: the living statues, the carvings, the decorations, her clothes, the food, the seeming opulence, the claustrophobia, the dark, the shadows, the silence. Everything was strange.
Ozymandias finally broke her silent musings. He inquired, "Are you satisfied with the accommodations?"
Threnody nodded. Ozymandias eyed her for a moment and then stood up. He went into the dark depths of his library and rummaged around. He emerged with a small dusty book. He handed it to Threnody. "What's this?" she asked.
"Something I found a long time ago."
She read the cover: "Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)". She noted a bookmark indicating a place in the book. She opened to it and read the entry.
OZYMANDIAS
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear –
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
CHAPTER 10
Threnody looked at Ozymandias after reading it. The dancing firelight made his face appear gaunt. His stone face was inscrutable. Threnody could feel the sadness and loneliness inside this stone man. However, she felt that she too have her own problems to deal with.She asked, "Why am I here?"
"Fate," he replied evenly.
"Don't give me that crap again!" Threnody shouted. Her harsh voice reverberated around the room. Her frustrations hung in the air. Threnody found herself standing. The stone mastiff stood erectly and was facing her. It bared its stone fangs. Ozymandias patted his pet down. Threnody slowly sank down on her chair, realizing that her outburst was misplaced.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude," Threnody softly said, "It's just that I had a very exhausting day. I was pursued by Sinister's maggots, and then suddenly I'm whisked here… in some pseudo-ancient stone palace. I'm tired, and I need answers."
"Like I said, my dear Melody—"
"Please. Call me Threnody. Melody Jacobs does not exist anymore," she responded.
"My profound apologies, Threnody" Ozymandias signaled the attending 'women' to fill Threnody's cup with more spiced tea. He continued, speaking his mind freely, "Threnody… Death's song… A song of lamentation… A funeral song… A dirge… Threnody… Exquisite and yet fatal. How strange indeed. Such a beautiful desert rose with poisonous thorns." Ozymandias said her name with such familiarity which she found peculiar.
"I'm sorry. Back to your question… it's Fate. Let me explain. I foresaw that you would come. I do not choose what I see. It just comes to me. I knew for a long time you would come… probably centuries ago… around the sixteenth century to be exact…" Ozymandias trailed off, lost within his personal memory.
"I remember that time… I was hiding beneath a monastery in a French hillside. The monks thought I was a demon and imprisoned me below in the cellar. For years the monks, guarded me. Sometimes, they would go down and chant their Latin prayers and sprinkle me with holy water. I found them amusing really." Ozymandias chuckled as he remembered something entertaining from way past. Threnody found it disconcerting when she looked and listened at Ozymandias. His voice betrayed so much emotion; yet, his stone face was blank. Like now, his voice was filled with amusement, but his face was unreadable. Threnody shook her head in confusion. Her head was swimming now. Fatigue was starting to get to her.
Ozymandias continued, "But then the vision came. I saw you. I saw you running. I saw how we would meet. Sometimes, I get visions now and then – visions with a global impact; visions that affected the whole of humanity; visions that are important to Apocalypse… But your vision was different. It was a personal vision. I knew inherently that the vision was for my own eyes only. And I also knew when we would meet. I found that was rather strange because my visions never gave an exact period of time. Yours, my dear Threnody, did."
"What does that mean?"
"I do not know. I just see. But the purpose is obscured to me. I just wait for the answers to present itself. I have been waiting centuries for you."
CHAPTER 11
Threnody accepted another round of spiced tea from one of the attendants. She drank it all in one gulp. She felt its warmth enveloping her. The nagging voices were becoming more agitated. She hated them. Then, a thought struck her! The nice clothes, the warm food, the tea! It made her feel safe, lowering her defenses. It began to fit. This was still Sinister's doing! Making her feel complacent, screwing with her mind!
"Is this you Sinister??!!" Threnody screamed. She stood up. Her neural clips hummed to life as Threnody started a death charge. The stone mastiff pounced at her, and Threnody blasted the thing with her powers. She fell back with pieces of the dismembered pet on her. The stone muzzle lay on her chest. Threnody cried out in anguish. She could not understand anymore. Her paranoia made her vulnerable and confused. The attendants pulled her up and brushed the debris off her. Threnody pushed them away. Then she felt strong hands envelop her. And she found herself sobbing on the cold broad stone shoulders of Ozymandias. He made her sit down. One of the attendants gave her another cup of warm spiced tea.
"Sit down, my dear. You have been through a lot," Ozymandias intoned.
"I'm tired," she sniffed, "I just want it to stop. I want the screams to stop. It's terrible. And it has become worse. I want a normal life. I want my life back. I can feel them inside me, screaming. They want to live. I hear dead voices. I feel like I am being drowned."
She sobbed again. The words came out in a rush. All the hurt, all the pain, all her fears. Threnody wanted it all out. She continued weakly, "Every time someone dies, I feel them inside me. I feel their last thoughts reverberating inside my head, lingering like some ugly taint… millions of them, roiling inside me. And the energies of their dead psyches consume me. I am losing it… Worse, I am beginning to enjoy the death-energies… I feel like I might explode… Sometimes… I become catatonic for days after so much death…"
Ozymandias patted her hand and said, "I understand how you feel. I am also cursed with this so-called gift – to be able to see into the multitude of futures, its myriad possibilities, to be able to know everything and nothing, to have the power of a god with the limitations of human understanding.
"You wake up knowing that a certain terrible event will happen in an immediate future, and you try so hard to prevent such circumstances from happening but to no avail. Glimpsing the future makes one question the free will of humanity. Is there such a thing called free will? What is fate and destiny? Are we merely pawns of a larger design?
"My dear Threnody, I know your pain. Our gifts that make us unique are, at the same time, our downfall."
Threnody yawned. The tea and the dancing fire were lulling her. She slumped on her chair. Her eyes were heavy. Fatigue finally overcame her. She felt somebody carry her. She did not care. She was too tired to care. She heard a deep voice from far away say, "Sleep now."
CHAPTER 12
She stood over a dais. It was dawn. Her attendants hovered over her with bowls of dates and cups of warm milk. She waved them away. Her children were beside her, waiting also for the correct moment. She eyed the rising sun, slowly inching itself above the desert horizon. Below her, the priests in flowing robes readied the incense. Behind them, the people waited.
Then it was time. The sun was whole. She raised her hands. Her golden wrist bands glistened beneath the morning light. Her attendants threw fragrant petals into the air. The people kneeled and touched their heads on the ground. Their voices droned into a chant. The priests intoned along with the morning supplication as they waved the incense over the people, blessing them.
She felt a familiar hand on her shoulder; then a kiss on her cheek. She smiled. She turned around to face—
CHAPTER 13
Threnody woke up with a start. Her mouth felt dry, and her head throbbed. It was compounded by the yammering voices. She stared dumbly at her surroundings in confusion. The nude paintings, fur carpets, tasseled pillows, satin bed sheets, incense. Then she saw the marble women statues at the side of her bed, bowed in servile obeiyance. Threnody then remembered where she was. She sighed. The strange dream was beginning to fade. The dream… felt right, mused Threnody as she stood up.
After her long bath, she had breakfast. Or was it lunch? thought Threnody as she fed on dates and nuts with honey, chicken with herbed rice, and some warm milk again. Her concept of time was skewed in this place. It was as if time was not important. Beneath the hulk of carved stone, time seemingly stood still here.
The marble women statues led her straight to Ozymandias at the library. He was sitting by the fireplace with a book on hand. He stood up when Threnody neared.
"Thank you for your hospitality and generosity. I want to get out of here. This place gives me the creeps. No offense."
"Yes, I admit. My abode is an acquired taste," replied Ozymandias off-handedly. He placed the book on the table. He arranged his stone robes and said, "Cable said the same thing. But Blaquesmith found it rather cozy. To each his own I guess."
"So… Can I leave?"
"Yes, you can… but not now."
"Am I a prisoner here?" Threnody asked.
The fire played lyrical shadows across Ozymandias tall form. He shook his head and said softly, "No, Threnody. The reason why I won't let you leave just yet because Sinister's forces are still out there in the tunnels. They are still searching for you."
Threnody moved closer. She studied the smoothened dark features of Ozymandias. "How can I be sure that what you are telling me is true?"
Ozymandias stared back at her through his lifeless stone eyes. Then they heard through the library's gloom of someone approaching. Threnody turned and saw one of the grey-granite statues appear before them with a large bundle. He then unceremoniously dropped his package at their feet and opened it. It was a dead male body, badly mangled. He was wearing a black bodysuit similar to the ones hunting Threnody earlier. The statue held out to Threnody a palm-sized object. She accepted it and turned it over. Threnody recognized the thing immediately. It was a com-link designed by Sinister for field operations. She keyed the correct sequence and turned it on. It hummed to life. Everything was there: transmissions from Sinister, her profile, tunnel blueprints. Threnody felt a flutter of fear wash over her. She sat down on the chair, and stared at the fire. She let the com-link go with a clatter on the dusty floor.
CHAPTER 14
"My guards killed him last night," said Ozymandias. He picked up the com-link, crushed it with his hand, and threw it into the fireplace. He approached Threnody and cupped his large hands on her face. "I believe his dead psyche is inside your head now. Try to isolate it, and talk to it. I know you can do that."
Threnody shuddered and then nodded. She closed her eyes and shut her surroundings out as she swam inside herself. The rush of the shrill voices clamoring for attention suffocated her. Her presence within them made them highly volatile, their agitation fever-pitch. Threnody felt like vomiting as their dead psyches walled around her, but she pushed with her search. She skimmed over the thousand voices, until she isolated a voice and an image. She recognized the face. It was similar to the mangled body brought by the statue. It felt recent and whole, compared to the other voices which felt eroded and merged. She probed the psyche and "saw" its last memory: being pummeled to death by stone statues. The psyche broke off from her probing and screamed at her, DAMN YOU, BITCH!!! I'LL GET YOUR BONY ASS FOR THIS!!!
Threnody opened her eyes with a start. Her breathing was fast and shallow. Sweat beaded her face. Ozymandias was sitting across her, stoking the fire. Without facing her, he said, "Now, do you believe me?"
Threnody stood up and stalked out of the library.
CHAPTER 15
The next days were a blur to Threnody. The days and nights merged into one another. Her time-sense dissipated here. Schedules and patterns were not anymore dictated by time, but rather by need. She slept when she was tired. She ate when she was hungry. Threnody did not know anymore how many days she was here.
Her dreams disturbed her. It seemed familiar yet distant. It felt as if she was becoming someone else in her dreams. The rising sun… a long, flowing river cutting across a horizon of golden desert sand… flowing delicate robes… petals… blossoms… palm leaves… running feet of children… laughter… warmth… milk and honey… gold… scarabs… fine jewelries… holding hands… kisses… strong arms around her. The disjointed dream-images inebriated Threnody, flooding her senses, overwhelming and dazing her.
Moreover, her benefactor's seeming absence also added to Threnody's confusion. Ozymandias would appear intermittently. He appeared of late as if he was avoiding her, which greatly disturbed Threnody. As soon as she was within his vicinity, he would politely excuse himself with some placid comment about running his so-called kingdom. Threnody shrugged at his odd behavior.
She spent hours wandering throughout the cavernous palace, with the marble women statues in tow. The palace was bare of furniture, except for the library, dining hall, and her quarters. Every niche from wall to ceiling was etched and carved decoratively. She marveled at the friezes and the carved columns. The details were exquisite and lavish. Whole halls were carved with human figures depicting scenes which Threnody felt eerie yet familiar. She could not place her finger on what she was seeing. Then she saw it. A wall was etched with two burning buildings and multitudes of wailing men and women. It chilled her. It was the 9/11 bombing. Then, it dawned on her. The images were key events in history: Holocaust, French Revolution, Black Death, Man on the Moon, Spanish Inquisition, and so forth. Threnody wandered the hallways in silence.
Threnody rarely visited the library. If she did, she would stay a few minutes, sit by the fire, and then leave. She felt that the library was Ozymandias' private room. But before she would leave, she could not help but browse through the books that lay strewn on Ozymandias' chair: "The Necessity of Atheism" by P. B. Shelley, "Frankenstein" by Mary Shelley, works of Lord Byron and John Keats, and "A Comprehensive History of Egypt" by Prof. A. L. Kramer. Of all the books there, the Egyptian history book had a bookmark to which Threnody always opened. The passage read:
"Nefertari was the wife of Ramesses II and is sometimes called Nefertari-Mery-Mut. She is shown on a stela that dates to the first years of Ramesses reign. It is believed that she was the daughter of Bakenkhons who was a prominent official. She held the position of great wife or consort. The mayor of Thebes at that time was her brother, Amenmose. She had two sons, Prince Prehirwonmef and Prince Amonhirwonmef. She also had two daughters, Princess Mertatum and Princess Merytamon.
Her tomb that was found in the Valley of the Queens, is one of the most beautiful and largest ever found. It is obvious that Ramesses loved his wife, among many things he had a temple built at Abu Simbel that was dedicated to both Nefertari and to the goddess of love Hathor.
On the temple wall, Ramesses made a dedication to his wife -- She for whom the sun shines."
Threnody always felt sad everytime she read the entry. Ozymandias was a very lonely man.
CHAPTER 16
One day, Threnody reached an area where she had never explored. It was behind the throne room with a small door leading into it. The walls were bare, which puzzled Threnody. She was now used to seeing carvings on all the walls, but this room was different. The walls were smooth and held torches which gave the room a soft warm glow. In the middle of the room was a beautiful marble white statue standing on the pedestal. Etched on the pedestal were the words: She for whom the sun shines.
Threnody approached the statue and examined its features. It appeared like a queen with its benevolent gaze, commanding presence, and imperious stance. Probably Nefertari, thought Threnody. She felt suddenly sorry for Ozymandias. Then, Threnody noticed the face of the statue. She studied the features. She stared at it. Her heart raced. She ran out.
CHAPTER 17
Ozymandias was sitting across Threnody in the library. He was leafing through another book. The fire billowed ominously beside them.
Finally, Threnody broke the silence, "I saw myself… a statue… in one of the rooms."
Ozymandias nodded. He placed the book aside. He answered, "I carved that a long time ago."
"How old are you?"
"Three thousand years. Give and take some two to three centuries or so."
"Oh..."
"Yes, Threnody. I am ancient." Ozymandias chuckled.
"What are you really?" asked Threnody earnestly.
"I was once human. Hard to believe, isn't it? But I was."
Ozymandias drew himself and sat erectly, as if he was on a throne. His face was calm as he stared faraway. He said in a very grave kingly voice, "I am Usr-Maat-Ra Setep-en-Ra Ra-messu-Meri-Amon. The son of Seti the First and Queen Tuya. I am the Third King of the 19th Dynasty. I am the Great Ozymandias... I am the Great Rameses the Second." Threnody felt strange. The words he uttered seemed vaguely familiar to her.
She looked at him again and saw Ozymandias was changed… somewhat. He looked like a pharaoh from long ago. He continued but his voice was less grave, "Three thousand years ago, I was once a great ruler of ancient Egypt. But… Rama-Tut seized control of the land. I could not fight him for he was far too strong for me and my followers. Rama-Tut, you see dear Threnody, was a time-traveler. He used his advance technology from the future and his alien ship to subjugate Egypt to her knees. We had an uneasy alliance. Rama-Tut permitted me to keep my nobility as well as my retinue of followers. He gave me a small province to rule as my own… for consolation... scraps to feed the humbled desert lion.
Ozymandias stopped. Threnody waited. The silence was disturbed by the crackling fire as it fed greedily on the cedar logs. He shook his head as if he was troubled. The past clearly pained him. He continued, "You do not know how terrible I felt then. My hurt pride made me foolish. My blind arrogance made me cruel. And that cruelty was my downfall." The bitterness and sadness of his voice was barely concealed. Threnody could not imagine the terrible memory that Ozymandias was seeing now.
"I met En Sabah Nur at that time. He was not the terrible Apocalypse that we know now. He was merely a deformed slave. How callously I mistreated him. To complicate things, we later discovered that this slave was also the adopted son of the Stormriders' leader, Baal. At that time, the Stormriders were a nomadic band of warriors who were being hunted down by Rama-Tut. We finally captured the Stormriders, and I had Baal killed."
Ozymandias leaned back on his chair, placing both his hands under his chin. His voice became low as he said, "All would have been well, but then… Fate intervened. Nur's mutant powers manifested itself. He escaped and uncovered Rama-Tut's secret. Using the advance technology, En Sabah Nur transformed himself into Apocalypse. He then pursued me. Then, he punished me for mistreating him and for killing his foster-father. Apocalypse knew my weaknesses and strengths. He knew how vain I was with my looks and bearing. He knew my ego. And he used this to his advantage."
Ozymandias paused. He stoked the fire again. Threnody wanted to reach out and make him stop. She could not. Yet… she wanted to hear everything… and understand his pain. He said, "Apocalypse genetically altered me. I became this – A living stone." His words hung heavily on the air. Threnody closed her eyes.
"Apocalypse also took the entire database from Rama-Tut's ship. It contained large amounts of information about the future. Apocalypse forced them into my mind. Apocalypse may have made me blind, but he enabled me to 'see' what goes on in the world. I became his personal eyes to the future. My task was to record what I saw in stone, making a hard copy of the history of mutant-kind. I etched, chiseled, carved what I saw into friezes and statues. I worked for centuries alone in my lair in North Africa. I felt compelled to record everything… to record all the visions I saw. I worked for years without concept of time… I needed to work… to forget the hideous thing I have become… to forget the arrogant beautiful Egyptian king…"
Threnody opened her eyes and saw Ozymandias looking at her from his chair. She was unable to read his expressionless stare. He continued again, "Apocalypse can always read my mind to see what I saw. It was a very convenient way for him to catch up on current news and past history each time Apocalypse came out of regeneration. Whenever Apocalypse would slumber… I would get lonely. I sometimes would get out of my 'workshop' and travel… just to 'see' what the world has become…"
Ozymandias faced the fire. The light made him appear hawkish. His voice was now softer as he spoke, "And during one of those rare travels, I had your vision. I hid it from Apocalypse. I hid it from his prying eyes… But now I am free from him…"
Ozymandias sighed, as if a great burden was unloaded.
"I'm sorry," Threnody said.
Ozymandias shook his head and laughed half-heartedly. "You need not be. I have accepted what I have become… an immortal in stone. I am a living history. I have seen the birth of human civilization and followed its progress, witnessed meaningless wars and holocausts, watched the depths of human depravity and the heights of humanity's innate goodness. I have seen the development of arts and science, from cave paintings and the wheel to computer-generated animation and space travel. I am what I am. I am Ozymandias."
"I can't imagine what you have been through."
"We do what we must, dear Threnody…"
CHAPTER 18
Threnody leaned back on her chair. Her emotions and thoughts roiled inside her, a furious maelstrom of confusion. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. She heard his deep voice.
"Threnody…"
"Yes?" she replied..
"It is time," he said simply. Threnody then understood. She was leaving now. She pursed her lips, afraid to speak. "You will be shown out. But before you go, you have to take these." Ozymandias held out three white tablets to her. Threnody accepted them and wondered what they were.
As if reading her bewildered expression, Ozymandias explained, "It will not harm the baby. It will just make you forget. It will erase all memory that has transpired for the past few days. I hope you understand my need for secrecy."
She nodded, comprehending. Then she blurted out in a rush, "Ozymandias… Am I Nefertari?" She could not believe that she said those words. But in a way, she felt relieved. She had to know. Threnody felt she had the right to know.
Ozymandias looked away.
Threnody asked, "Why did we meet… why all these?" Her voice was strained. She gripped the arm of her chair.
Ozymandias shook his head again. He was still not looking at her. "I honestly don't know."
"You must know. You must have an idea."
Ozymandias finally lifted his head and looked at her. His voice quavered as he spoke, "Threnody… Please go. You do not belong here."
His voice sounded final. Threnody looked down. She collected her thoughts and then stood up. As she started to leave, she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder. Then she heard his voice, "Let the dead be, Threnody. I know you have many questions, but I do not have the answers. They are not mine to give, and they are not yours to ask."
She shrugged the hand away. Threnody looked down. She considered her hands. Then she remembered the white tablets. She immediately swallowed them. She said, "Good-bye, Ozymandias." And she left the library.
Ozymandias stared at the space where she was. Space. Void. Oblivion. That was all left of her. He whispered at the darkness that swallowed Threnody, "Good-bye, my beloved."
EPILOGUE
The dreams slipped away… and she woke. The bright sunshine hurt her eyes. She adjusted to the glare and saw an unfamiliar female face peer at her. A cheerful but loud voice spoke, "You finally woke up. That's a good sign."
Threnody replied groggily, "Where am I?"
An unfamiliar hand touched her shoulder. The face was still peering at her. A white female face, dressed in white, chubby with a pasty face, probably late fifties. Prim hair and make up. Her cheerful voice grated at Threnody. "Brentwood Women's Center. And I'm Nurse Josie."
"What happened?"
Nurse Josie clucked like a mother hen. She tucked a blanket under Threnody's chin. She felt her pulse, got her temperature, and checked the IV drip. She finally replied, "You've been asleep for two days. You have been quite delirious, girl. We found you unconscious outside the hospital gates. No name. No identifications. But we found an envelope with a letter and a bundle of cash. The letter had specific instructions to take care of you. Really strange, if you ask me. Don't worry. We ask no questions here. You are quite safe… What's your name by the way?" Melody Jacobs. No, I'm Threnody. Wait… I'm… Threnody's thoughts wanted to scream. But she replied, "I don't remember."
Nurse Josie made again that clucking sound. "Don't hurt yourself thinking… It will come to you," she chattered away. Then she frowned and said, "Hey, you okay?"
Threnody wanted to vomit. The voices inside her head started again. But it was different. It felt like her mind was being fried from within. The voices were louder and uncontrollable. She felt her temples. The neural clips were gone. Panic gripped Threnody. Again, the nurse peered at her. Threnody felt like a circus freak with Nurse Josie nosing like a curious school kid. Threnody whimpered, "Just a headache." Threnody groaned inwardly.
Nurse Josie clucked, "I'll give you something later for that. Just relax." She patted Threnody's hand. As she started for the door, Nurse Josie whirled and pointed at the side table beside Threnody's bed. "Your things by the way are on the top drawer." And then she was gone.
Threnody pressed her hands on the sides of her head. The voices screamed at her. Tears streamed down her face as she groped for the drawer. She opened it and rummaged inside. She heaved out its contents on her lap. Two books. Her old clothes. And… her neural clips. She laughed out loud as she fondled her precious neural devices. She immediately placed them on her temples. The voices suddenly quieted down to a tolerable buzzing sound.
Then Nurse Josie barged in. She brought along a tray with a yellow capsule and a glass of water. She offered it to Threnody. Threnody smiled meekly and took her medication without comment.
Nurse Josie fingered the two books lying across Threnody's lap. She read the title: "Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)" and "Poems of Emily Dickinson". Nurse Josie patted Threnody's head like as if she was a good pet. She said, "Nice books. You must be an avid fan. You must be a teacher or something. Maybe a major in literature?"
Threnody shook her head. The P.B. Shelley book felt familiar. It made her feel sad thinking about that book. She did not know why. But it puzzled her because she never read any of Shelley's work… nor remembered any. Actually… now that she set her mind on it, Threnody could not recall what happened to her recently. She recalled being chased by the Sinister's henchmen… then blackness… blurred images… statues… wall carvings… spice tea… ancient books… A man… A kind man…
Nurse Josie face peered again at her. Threnody replied, "I think… It was a gift… from a very good man."
The nurse snorted a braying laughter. Nurse Josie wagged a finger at Threnody and said, "Girl, you better find that man fast. Good men are hard to find nowadays." She got the tray and empty glass and waddled out.
Threnody placed aside the Shelley book. She got the other book and read the title again. "Poems of Emily Dickinson". She frowned. She could not recall owning the book. She opened it and on the front flyleaf was a handwritten note: She for whom the sun shines.
Threnody's heart skipped a beat. The phrase sounded familiar. She concentrated but the truth eluded her… like a mist or fog that would not permanently leave. Threnody sighed. Then she noticed a bookmark, marking a place on the book. She opened to where it was. It was a poem. It read:
Because I Could Not Stop For Death
Because I could not stop for Death--
He kindly stopped for me--
The Carriage held but just Ourselves--
And Immortality.
We slowly drove--He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility--
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess--in the Ring--
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain--
We passed the Setting Sun--
Or rather--He passed us--
The Dews drew quivering and chill--
For only Gossamer, my Gown--
My Tippet--only Tulle--
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground--
The Roof was scarcely visible--
The Cornice--in the Ground--
Since then--'tis Centuries--and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity--
Threnody closed the book. She felt as if she lost something important. She closed her eyes. The voices were silent. She suddenly felt alone and lost.
Threnody wept.
DISCLAIMER: The characters of Threnody (Melody Jacobs) and Ozymandias as well as the names mentioned (Sinister, Apocalyse (En Sabah Nur), Rama-Tut, Baal, Cable, and Blaquesmith) belong to Marvel Comics unless otherwise stated. They are being used without permission. Featured poems (OzymandiasBecause I Could Not Stop For Death) are works by Percy Bysshe Shelley and Emily Dickinson.
Despite the historical references, this story is purely fictional.