Chapter Two: Dread Sinks In

Monday morning began as it always did. Rex and Weevil reported for duty in the Snake Pit, the arcade that swiftly replaced the bootlegging operation for which they used to work. The latter business, the Scarlet Citadel, was crammed with shelves that overflowed with dolls, DVDs, and VCDs of dubious origin and often obviously suspect design and paint jobs. In their place, the Snake Pit filled its floor with video game cabinet upon video game cabinet, each one either decorated in bright colors that advertised cartoonish thrills or painted in black and deep red shades that dared to challenge the player's capacity for the hardcore. Either way, potential fantasy violence beckoned, as did puzzles, jumping across platforms, and, in a few cases, driving and space flight simulation. Other new arrivals to the location formerly known as the Scarlet Citadel included a trio of employees, whom Kiki had hired shortly after the Snake Pit opened. They included one young man with a slightly pimply face, a girl with braces, and another person who resembled the Swami Chinmayi: namely, an androgyne, though this one wore the black and white uniform of the Snake Pit rather than a pastel-colored robe and turban.

For all the new differences, the aesthetics of the building's previous tenant remained in evidence. After Madame Cutcliffe's mysterious departure from the face of the planet, Kiki disposed of the Scarlet Citadel's counterfeit and fake goods in a dumpster fire but retained the official dolls, DVDs, model kits, posters, and trading cards. Except for the latter two, these items had been pushed back onto wall-mounted shelves, where they seemed to stand guard over the video game cabinets. Nothing put more pressure on a gamer to win than the focused stare of the Dark Magician, even if he was less than a foot tall and made of plastic. The Duel Monsters cards themselves rested in legitimate booster packs that hung from hooks behind the glass counter. The posters, meanwhile, still covered the walls of the establishment's interior. Anyone who walked into the Snake Pit or looked up from a game would see an array of sights uncommon outside of cosplay conventions or highly specialized parties: bodybuilders of both socially identified sexes dressed variously in loincloths, tunics, and full body armor, a green dragon and a golden gryphon wrestling in battle like angry lovers, a spellcaster in a floor-length star-dotted gown letting sharp-clawed birds perch on their shoulders while a crystal ball on a short pedestal crackled with energy behind them.

This environment allowed Rex and Weevil to perform to their fullest. School had recently started again for most of the town's children and teenagers, which drastically reduced the Snake Pit's quotient of possible customers in the daytime. In the late afternoon and early evening, the crowds regained their healthy size, and at night, the most dedicated adult gamers entered for that which impassioned them. Weevil could not have felt happier with this arrangement. Mornings were never his favorite time of day to talk to people, though he still thought he handled the early hours better than did Rex, whom he sometimes had to awaken by shaking. Other times, Rex woke Weevil up in the middle of the night by clinging to him and crying. When Weevil asked why, Rex simply shook his head and wiped away his own tears.

Despite the relaxed atmosphere of the Snake Pit, Weevil felt a sense of unease there that lessened only somewhat outside the arcade. His and Rex's adventure of three months ago had left them with unanswered questions. As Weevil opened a crate of newly arrived model kits in the arcade's shipping and receiving quarters, he ran through some of these lingering queries. How did some random casino-owner get a hold of a mystical artifact? Why did the Pink Pangolin have a Duel Ring in her torture chamber? What was the purpose of the giant lizards under the city of Hollywood, and what did they feed on, other than human flesh? For that matter, were those lizards still alive? Exactly what was the nature of the Wyrm of the Wastelands? Madame Cutcliffe had told them something about the Wyrm strengthening the "inner devil," and doing that somehow boosted the user's psychic powers…

Madame Cutcliffe! That's right, he thought as he carried an armful of model kit boxes out to the front. What happened to her? He could not honestly say that he missed her, but her sudden disappearance made him wonder. She claimed that the Pink Pangolin was her bitterest rival, but neither Weevil nor Rex had seen any evidence to suggest that Pink competed with Cutcliffe in the criminal organization field. And what about that criminal organization? If any of her former subordinates or associates had unfinished business with her or with Rex and Weevil, Weevil did not know it. What happened to the Cutcliffe Cabal after the departure of its ringleader?

He shook his head to clear his mind as he set the dragon and giant mech model kit boxes on the shelf beside their companions. Cutcliffe was nowhere to be found, and Pink and her henchman were skeletons at the bottom of a casino's sub-basement; he had no reason to think of them now. Far better it was to concentrate on building a life with the man he loved in this dirty-but-pleasing small city. Kiki had raised their wages almost as soon as the Scarlet Citadel transformed into the Snake Pit; why not focus on using his and Rex's increased income to improve their shared existence? They could save up money for college, or add some nice things to their apartment. If nothing else, they could at least buy a new video game console.

On his return to the shipping and receiving quarters, Weevil realized that his conscious mind told him to push the horror of the recent past out of his thoughts, but his heart said otherwise. As the day wore on and he sold Duel Monsters cards and other goods to his fellow nerds, the burden of these mysteries weighed more and more heavily upon him.

When Kiki emerged from the room above the arcade and called, "Lunch break!" Rex and Weevil departed for the nearby diner, where they ate many of their lunches back when they worked for Madame Cutcliffe. Once they took their plush red booth inside and gave their drink orders to the waiter, they looked at each other in silence.

Weevil broke the tension. "So, are you thinking the same things I'm thinking?"

"About how we should totally get a new game console when we have the money?"

"No! Okay, I was thinking about that, too, but what about all the weird stuff we went through in Hollywood? Doesn't it haunt you?"

"Eurgh." Rex closed his eyes and massaged his temple with one hand. "Don't make me think about that. I still have nightmares about the torture."

The hot knife of guilt scratched at Weevil's heart. Now he understood why Rex woke up in distress sometimes. In fact, Rex's response raised another question: why did Rex suffer more than Weevil did on that journey, when Weevil exhibited worse behavior? Should events not have gone easier on Rex, whom the Wyrm deserted sooner for the comparatively lesser amount of evil in his heart?

"Sorry, Rex. I mean, when you think about that whole situation, it just doesn't add up. Don't you wonder about those giant lizards we saw? Or how those creeps got the Wyrm in the first place? Or what happened to Cutcliffe?"

"Cutcliffe…" Rex's face changed from an expression of pain to one of pensiveness. "I don't miss the old broad, but there's something fishy about how she just disappeared."

"See, we are thinking the same thing."

Then their waiter arrived at their table, carrying a tray that bore two baskets: one containing a double-decker cheeseburger, the other holding a fish sandwich, and both barely restraining their quantities of fries. As the server silently set his customers' lunches on the table, the two young men momentarily forgot about their haunting questions.

But when they resumed their positions inside the Snake Pit, Weevil felt the same mysteries press upon his mind, demanding solutions. As the hours passed, more people, particularly teenagers and young adults getting off from school, entered the arcade, and Weevil became proportionately busier, selling Duel Monsters booster packs and DVDs of science fiction movies. Making chit-chat with customers was tolerable enough, but as they often did, pondering the serious matters made it worse.

Seven o'clock came by, and with it, more gamers appeared. Rex had quarter-collecting duty this evening, so Weevil left him to it. Then a woman who appeared to be Weevil's own age entered the arcade and walked up to the counter. She looked at him with a glint of familiarity in her eye and a rolled-up newspaper in her hand. Something about her countenance made Weevil feel slightly queasy.

"May I help you?" he asked her.

She laughed. "I knew I recognized you!"

His heart sank. "You did?"

"Sure! You're that guy who won the regional championship back in…whenever it was. You were just a kid then, and so was I, but I recall you."

The weight on his heart lifted—but only just. "Someone remembers my shining moment! I'm not all washed up!"

"Heh. You could say that you and the other guy are remembered. Here, let me show you." She unfurled the newspaper, revealing that it was a tabloid. The paper's title made his nose wrinkle.

"The Hobbyists' Herald?" For many years, the Hobbyists' Herald had combined the two seemingly incongruous forces of items relevant to gamers and old-fashioned celebrity gossip. Only in the Herald could anyone read a page of tips for improving a zombie-themed Duel Monsters deck and then turn over the page to find a story about the new development team for the Monster World RPG all secretly having cocaine problems. Somehow, despite its niche audience, the Herald had been published every month since the mid-1970s. Apparently, the gaming world was filled with scandals, for a given definition of the word "scandals," from the beginning.

"Yes! And you're in it!"

" What?"

"Check it out." She flipped the paper open to the middle section and pointed to a short article on the left-hand side of the page. Then she spread the open tabloid onto the counter, and Weevil looked down at the article of interest. Bile rose in his stomach as soon as he saw the headline, and that feeling continued as he read the accompanying text.

Nasty also-rans prove Panaggio's prediction

Not too many of us still follow Weevil Underwood and Rex Raptor, the champion and runner-up from the regional Duel Monsters tournament of nearly ten years ago. If anything, we remember them for the rudeness that got them a beating at the hands of the duelists they scorned as beneath them. You might be thinking, "Who cares about those guys?" But even if these two creepy critters never return to the DM spotlight—and it doesn't seem likely—they've caught our eye again at HH for one reason. Remember way back in V24, I8 when we first covered Pegasus's regional tournament, and Lady Panaggio predicted that the winner and runner-up would become lovers? It looks like they have! One reliable source recently informed us that Raptor and Underwood have been seen together doing things appropriate for couples: shopping with the same cart in local supermarkets, eating candlelit dinners with each other, and even—this is the clincher—smooching at the movies! (Yes, we know you probably don't like picturing that, but our source saw what they saw.) Score another one for the good Lady…and finally, score again after all these years for Raptor and Underwood! They're losers, but at least they have each other.

Weevil could not see his face, but he could feel his hands, and they were balled into fists. Losers? Also-rans? The insult was bad enough, but what editor let this story pass by, as though it were relevant to a readership of millions? Who informed on him and Rex to the Herald? For that matter, who watched them buy groceries, eat dinner, and go to the movies? A ray of fear shocked through his spine when he considered that the informant might have seen Rex fellate him. At least that detail did not make it into the article, but they sat in the back row for a reason.

And who was this woman who thought she had the right to bother him like this? Did she come in here to buy anything, or did she simply want to embarrass him?

"Um…that doesn't matter. Plus, you're blocking anyone who might want to get in line. We have a business to run."

"Oh," she said with a giggle as she removed the offending tabloid from the counter, "I know. I came here to beat up some pixelated bad guys. It must have been a slow news day over at the Herald. Why did I show you that article?" The woman winked at him and then walked off toward the fighting games.

In the next couple of hours, Weevil tried to throw himself fully into his transactions, selling packs of Duel Monsters cards and model kits with more fervor than he ever did before. That young woman's smug grin and callous giggle continued to pop up in his consciousness, however, and then his temper would start to fray. In an attempt to conceal his fury from the customers, Weevil reminded himself that the Snake Pit's closing time would soon fall. And still, the unanswered questions pounded like drumsticks inside his mind.

When closing time arrived and all the other customers, including the woman who made herself Weevil's enemy, had left, Kiki appeared in front of the counter, with Rex in tow. She turned to the three other employees, who variously tidied up the dolls on the shelves, alphabetized the DVDs on the racks, and emerged from the unisex bathroom carrying a mop.

"You three can go home. Rex and Weevil, stay behind a little longer."

"Wha—" Rex began to protest, but Weevil held up his hand to silence him. They both watched their three co-workers bid good night to Kiki and walk out of the arcade.

"Why're you having us stay late, Kiki?" asked Weevil.

She grinned. "Come upstairs with me."

"Are we gonna have a three-way?" said Rex. "You're cute and all, but—"

" Rex! Don't even think about it!" Although they had only become a couple in the past few months, Weevil knew that Rex belonged to him. And surely Rex understood that Weevil would not care to even see a nude woman, let alone touch one or watch one touch his lover.

"It was a joke. Besides, I would've said no anyway. Sleeping with your boss is just weird."

As though the conversation had never happened, Kiki continued, "I need to show you something. That's why I told you to come upstairs with me."

Weevil asked, "We can't just go into the back room?"

She shook her head. "It's not private enough. Follow me up the stairs."

The room above the arcade, Weevil observed, functioned as Kiki's private residence as well as an adjunct to the business operation. Like his own place, Kiki's habitation was a one-bedroom apartment, complete with a small kitchen and living room. In those respects, the room above the shop conformed to Weevil's expectations.

What did not conform to his expectations was the sight of Ishizu Ishtar sitting on the sofa in front of the living room's coffee table. She stood up but did not venture near him and Rex.

"Hello, Miss Miyamoto. Hello, Messieurs Raptor and Underwood. How do you do?"

"I'm fine," said Kiki. "You wanted to see us again, as I recall."

"Yes. Thank you for coming." She sat down on the edge of the sofa. "Take your seats."

They all sat beside her, and Weevil felt a cold sweat begin to break from his pores.

"Surely you remember the events of three months ago, when you traveled to Los Angeles and destroyed the Wyrm of the Wastelands?" said Ishizu.

"I wish I could forget," replied Rex. Weevil resisted the urge to pat him on the back, even when he thought he saw Kiki grin.

"You did well to remove such evil from the world. However, I regret to inform you that you confronted only a small fraction of the society that threatens mankind."

Now Weevil could no longer exercise patience. "The society?"

Ishizu nodded. "The Pink Pangolin and her lackeys were far from the height of wickedness. They came from a larger, older, more ambitious group. You removed one branch of a poisonous tree. Now you must finish what you started."

"Wait a minute," said Rex, whom Weevil could tell was also breaking out in a mental cold sweat if not a physical one. "We're going on another quest?"

"You are. Do not be alarmed. If I believed you could not handle this mission, I would not assign it to you. I have every reason to believe that you will succeed, if you apply the lessons you learned in Los Angeles."

"We're not going to Hollywood again?" asked Weevil.

Kiki twirled a lock of her hair around her finger and said, "Well, you could possibly go there if you made enough time, and it would make sense in its own way, but that's not your intended destination."

"And where's that?" Rex and Weevil asked simultaneously.

"Your mission is in Australia," said Ishizu.

"What?" Weevil almost jumped to his feet. "You're sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

"I would not characterize Australia in that way, but regardless of how you feel about the location, that is where Pegasus is."

His heart stood still, or so it felt. Pegasus had resurfaced in Weevil's mind for a good reason, then. After all these years, Pegasus was about to enter Weevil's life again—or, from the sound of it, Weevil, along with Rex, would make a re-entrance into Pegasus's life, whether he expected them to or not.

For a moment, Weevil could not speak, so it was Rex who found the wherewithal to ask, "You mean Maximillion Pegasus?"

"Of course she means Maximillion Pegasus!" Weevil snapped, hoping he did not sound too defensive. Then he looked at Ishizu. "Don't you?"

"I do. He is vital to the plans of the organization you encountered in Los Angeles."

Thinking about what Pegasus would mean to a criminal organization turned the gears in Weevil's brain. What could Pegasus specifically give a crime syndicate, other than oodles of money? Any disgustingly wealthy eccentric could do that if he and the crooks were on each other's good side, or if the crooks demanded a ransom. Why target the creator of Duel Monsters in particular? And, if he would willingly aid any less-than-legal business, then why did Cutcliffe never reach out to him? Was it because the Pink Pangolin's organization competed with her own, as Cutcliffe had said, and Pegasus was part of that opposing team? Perhaps she would still be around today if Pegasus had helped her. Then again, his suspicions about exactly what happened to Cutcliffe were such that Industrial Illusions's technology might not have let her escape that fate…

He shuddered, and evidently Ishizu read one at least one motivation for that action.

"I see that you are naturally feeling apprehensive. Take these along; you will need them. Their relations helped you in southern California."

She reached into the folds of her dress, produced two cards in plastic sleeves, and handed them to Kiki, who gave one to Rex and the other to Weevil. The former read his card text first.

"Raphtontis the Night-Flyer? This one really is a dinosaur! Awesome! Aw, but it only has twenty-two hundred attack points."

Weevil looked at his new Duel Monsters card, which showed a giant, many-eyed spider crouching in a dewy web laid over what looked like an infinitely expanding cave, judging from the tiny bats flying overhead.

"Atlach-Nacha, the Weaver in the Chasm. Hey, it only has twenty-two hundred attack points, too!"

Kiki sniffed. "Really! That's the kind of gratitude you show Ishizu? You're the only people in the world who have those cards!"

"We are?" Rex looked sheepish. "Sorry, Ishizu, I just thought, since the last cards you gave us had such high attack power…"

"You thought they would be as godly as Yig and Rlim Shaikorth. Make no mistake: these cards are indeed powerful. Kiki is correct: no one else on Earth has these cards. Treasure them as you do your Father of Serpents and Great White Worm, and these two monsters will prove equally rewarding."

While Weevil continued to study his card, Rex posed another question to Ishizu. "How do you know where Pegasus is?"

"Previously, he gave me a long-distance telephone call, saying that as one former Millennium Item-holder to another, we should collaborate on ideas for future projects. I would have liked to discuss more about the subject with him, but I lost all contact with him after that. When I last spoke to him, he was in the wilds of southeast Australia."

Rex stared at Ishizu. "The wilds? Like, away from civilization?"

"You'll like it," said Kiki, "'cause it's full of creepy animals that try to kill people."

Weevil smirked. "That is what we're all about." Then Kiki's words reminded him of something else, and another chill ran down his back. He could not bear to let this conversation end without raising the subject. Surely this was a good time to get some of his questions answered.

"This group in Australia…do they have giant lizards, too? I mean, what's with the reptile stuff? The statue that looked like a snake, the acid-spitting lizards…"

"We have determined that reptiles are extraordinarily important to this organization, though for what reason, we do not yet know. We hope you will uncover some clues about that matter while in Australia, but the chief objective of your mission is to retrieve Pegasus," said Ishizu.

As though he were in class, Rex raised his hand. "Yeah, I got a question, too. Pegasus is filthy rich; why can't he just call someone to fly him home?"

A sigh passed Ishizu's lips. "If he were safely home, he would have let me know. Given his most recent location, I have every reason to believe that he is currently trapped somewhere beyond the reach of any method of communication. Even psychically, he has become untraceable. If my time were not otherwise occupied, I would seek him myself, but I have other matters that require my attention. But you can help. I would not ask this of you if I did not know you could do it."

If Pegasus was in trouble, then Weevil knew instantly what to do. He had to rescue him. An ardent fan owed his idol nothing less. And that stupid tabloid article still chafed…what better way to prove to that paper and its readers that he and Rex still meant something to the wider world of Duel Monsters?

He sprang to the floor. "We'll do it! All you have to say is when!" Rex looked slightly taken aback, but he stood up beside Weevil a second later.

Kiki rose as well. "Can you leave a week from today?"

Weevil draped his arm over Rex's shoulders. "Of course!"

"Yeah," said Rex. "We don't care how dangerous it is!"

"Good," Kiki said with the same grin she had flashed at the beginning of the conversation.

Not long afterward, Ishizu said a polite goodbye and then departed, leaving the two young men and their boss to their own devices. Since night had fallen two hours ago, these devices consisted of Kiki following Rex and Weevil to the front door as they prepared to go home.

"A mission to Australia?" Rex said just as he and Weevil reached the door. "It sounds cool, but I'm still kinda reeling from the last one. I've got so many questions about it."

Ah, now was the time to put Kiki on the spot. Weevil whipped around to face his employer. "I've been waiting to grill you for over a month! You have explaining to do, Kiki."

She affected an innocent face. "What do you want to know?"

"Let's start with the lizards. We talked about them when Ishizu was here, but she never said what purpose they served," said Weevil.

"Yeah, and what about the ones in the Hollywood tunnels? Hell, what about the Hollywood tunnels, period? All we saw when we were down there were some ancient-looking passageways—well, and some kind of secret room for the Wyrm."

And a torture chamber, Weevil thought but refused to say. Instead, he asked, "What about the people who worked in Pink's casino? Where'd they go after their boss died?"

At this last question, Kiki let her face spread into a wider smile than Weevil had ever seen, and the effect made Weevil's skin crawl in a distinctly less pleasant way than usual. "Don't you worry about the lizards. They've been well fed. In fact…let's just say the problems of those casino workers who were unemployed when their boss died and those poor lizards that went hungry for so long were solved at the same time."[VB1]

Oh, no. Oh, uno/u. She could only mean…

"…How do you know that?" asked Rex.

"I have my ways." She winked. "Now, why don't you go home before it gets any darker? You do have work tomorrow, you know. Have a good night, and make sure you start preparing tomorrow for your trip next week."

Before they could prepare for the journey they would soon undertake, Rex and Weevil had to prepare for bed that night. As always, Weevil showered before his longer-haired lover did and then tucked himself into the sheets beneath the two double beds they had made into one. While waiting for Rex to emerge from the bathroom, the other man continued reading his copy of Frank Herbert's The Green Brain.

He had just finished the third chapter by the time Rex entered the bedroom, a ratty red bathrobe around his body and a towel around his hair.

"Are you gonna get into bed like that?" asked Weevil, looking up from his novel.

Rex opened his robe slightly to reveal that he wore only his briefs underneath. "This is more comfortable…and more fun. I like wearing almost nothing to bed, and I know you like it, too." He leaned over to touch the underside of Weevil's chin.

"Hee hee! That's right!"

"Besides," Rex said as he climbed into bed beside Weevil, "I need a little fun tonight to take my mind off…you know."

"What, our impending adventure in the outback?"

"That…" he began, pulling the covers over his knees and loosening the belt that tied his robe. "And the fact that our boss is kinda sick."

None of the sickness that either man had ever witnessed until then could compare to what they would soon experience.