Chapter One

"How long will we be stuck in traffic?" asked Miguel Santos.

The chauffeur, Emily by name, spared a glance. "Its going to be a while, sir. You might be the Secretary General of the UN but that doesn't mean you get a police escort."

He snorted. "So I'm not as relevant like el presidente?"

The young woman looked at her employer through her rear view mirror and gave a smile. "Well, if its any help I voted for the other guy."

Santos allowed himself a smile. "Thanks."

"But seriously," added his tone-deaf chauffeur, "you can't really expect to say its the end of the world and with evidence to prove it and not expect Manhattan to turn into a gridlocked powder keg. I mean" Emily obliviously continued, "you say this King Ghidorah thing is going to kill planet Earth and of course people are going to nuts. Man we're going to be lucky get to your house in Sutton Place by midnight at this rate!

Santos frowned. "Again, thanks."

The poor, exhausted man let himself sprawled in the back seat and just hoped that the migraine would go away. He had been in meetings all day, even after the main security briefing, and had spoken to prime ministers, presidents, and kings on what it was they were going to face and how he was going to need everybody's help. Secretary General Santos thought about this and as he did, the same thought kept boiling over and over in his head. WHY HIM!?

UNGCC had had the kaiju under control, G-Force kept Godzilla at a stalemate, Rhodes and her Moon Base crew kept the Mysterians contained on Mars, and the Muvians were friends now. He ran for office sure that the crazy things, the days with clockwork doomsdays were over, sure that he'd be the Secretary General with time on his hands, the Secretary General who'd be nothing but a debate monitor. And now he was not only faced with this but had to play war hero?

Just thinking of it made him feel scummy all over and reached up to the light at the roof of the limo as he pulled down a small mirror. He was sweaty, his eyes looked bloodshot, his tie was undone, and it seemed as if there were a few more wrinkles around his eyes and a few more white hairs on his sideburns. He knew he was going to have to do his job, he knew it was his duty but why couldn't it have gone to anybody else? As he slouched in his seat he all of a sudden began laughing. "…Clavos de Cristo."

Santos laughed and reached into the tiny wet bar at his side. "What was that, sir?"

The man poured himself some tequila and turned to the front of the car in the dimly lit back he was in. He smirked and told the chauffeur, "Nothing Emily. It's just that I was thinking, God why did I have to get my job now of all times, couldn't anybody else carry this cross? Then I realized His own boy said the same thing. Look where it got him."

The driver bit her lip to keep from laughing. Ignoring it and concentrating on the task at hand, she said, "You know, sir, I'm not your wife or anything but you know that if you need somebody to talk to you can talk to me."

Santos drank a shot of liquor and laughed. "No te precupes. I'll make it."

Emily nodded as she tipped her cap. "Whatever you say sir."

Some time later, she finally drove into the Secretary General's swank neighborhood. Santos got his briefcase and bid her a good night as he walked into his brownstone. He rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes and forced himself to trudge towards the main stairway. He took a brief glance at the very large main sitting room; he'd been hoping to finish redecorating. There were things like a picture of the Virgin and Pope John Paul kissing her hand, a large crucifix, a framed picture of Mexican Robin Hood Pancho Villa in the common horseback picture. It had been a gift from his father-in-law; Santos had always leaned more towards the more idealistic Emiliano Zapata. He had a picture of the revolutionary, the one with the bandolier and the red, green, and white sash. He saw the picture of his son graduating from basic training and of his own picture graduating from the university. The mementos seemed almost meaningless right now.

That was when he heard a door open up on the second floor and saw a woman clutching a rosary hurry towards the top of the stairway. "Miguel, estas alli?"

"Si, I'm right here." The man put his briefcase down and placed his hand on the stair rail and looked up to his wife as she ran down to where he was and threw her arms around him.

She held him tight and placed her cheek against his. "Oh Miguel, I was so worried about you!"

Santos smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "And I told you not to wait up for me Maria… and I'm glad you didn't." With that, he kissed her on the mouth.

Feeling as good wrapped in her man's arms now as when she first met him, Maria Santos snuggled against him. "Miguel, you've had a long day so come to bed."

He rolled his eyes and tilted his head back. "You have no idea how much I want to hear that."

Husband and wife began walking up the stairs to their bedroom when wife asked, "Miguel, and little Tomas?"

"Nuestro hijo? That son of ours has already gotten his orders. He's taking the next flight back to Japan to train in that robot in about two days."

Maria Santos bit her lip and fought a tear. "Mi bebe… He's not going to fight Godzilla in that thing anymore. He's going to fight that Ghidra… or whatever it is."

"King Ghidorah and even though I can't legally tell you this, yes."

Maria hung her head. "So this is how my grandmother felt about my father signing up for el ejercito…"

The two reached their unlit bedroom and closed the door behind them. "Well," said Miguel, "we just have to accept out son is a man and let ourselves be proud of him."

His wife said, "That's true…"

Now alone in the bedroom with his wife, he began to take off his clothes, throwing them on the floor. Maria smiled when he took off her clothes and began kissing her exposed flesh. Her bosom began heaving in anticipation. She gasped when he kissed the nape of her neck. She wanted so badly to just forger her fear and give in to the pleasure but... "Miguel, I have to ask you something."

"What is it?" he nervously asked.

She was quiet for a time and wasn't sure what to say. She fiddled with the sheet and forced herself to speak. "Miguel… early today you gave that speech. You said 'we can work together or we can die.' You're not serious, are you?"

Miguel turned away and in his hands clutched a crucifix he had worn since his boyhood. "Maria, let's forget that for now." He held his wife so hard it hurt her. Maria gasped when she felt that... and when she saw her husband's tears. "I just want you right now and enjoy ourselves. Let's just have some fun!"

/o0o\

At the very moment on a secret island that even in modern times with all its spy satellites and its mapping was a land forgotten by the outside world and by time itself, an isle of the skull it was known. It was a tropical island that shouldn't exist but did and that could never be but was. It was the last remnant of a once mighty civilization, like Infant Island but unlike the kindly, gentle place, it was home to barbarians. It was dusk and in the main village at the edge of the gigantic monolithic Wall, people were at their business and waiting for the feast that would soon come. Atop of the Wall near where the Storyteller kept her hut, the lookouts atop it saw deep into their island's interior.

Almost hidden, but not quite from keen eyes, was a hunting party dragging a butchered Ligocristus hadrosaur on a hastily built sled. Those with keener eyes could see how the island spread out for hundreds of square miles in all directions. Those keen eyes could see the remains of the Old City and its Citadel in the distance, the grand lake and the swamps and rivers, the rolling grasslands, the jagged shards of land like broken pottery that erupted everywhere, the tar-pits, the great spider gorges that neatly divided the island, the cliffs it led to and the sea past it, and with it the outlying islands and their own respective jungles and lands that formed an archipelago around the main island. But dominating them all were the mountain ranges on the big island and dominating them, shrouded in cloud and mist, was Skull Mountain itself where the savage god of the island slept. The colossal mountain was there before them and lightning struck and thunder sounded around it and as this happened, the land shook with the cry of Kong. As the roar of the beast echoed across the lands of the island, the birds and the pterosaurs and the flying rats took wing in fear of their king. They were not the only ones afraid. On the colossal sixty foot high stone Wall, a lookout gripped their stone spears and dinosaur hide shields as he heard this. They looked at each other but did not dare let themselves show fear

"And yet you're afraid."

He didn't bother to turn around; he knew that Lua was there. She was the Amazonian daughter of the king and would long since have food for the dinosaurs had Kong not spared her life and accepted her as his bride when she had been given unto him three rains ago. She looked at the man's back as he kept watching for any signs of danger. "Seth, I've known you since you we were babes listening to Storyteller's tales on her knee. You can't fool me."

Seth growled. He'd been angry the entire day. He was angry that the damaged roof of his hut had been letting in rain, angry that injuries from an earlier hunt had left him incapacitated, and angry that he was stuck with lookout duty while his brother could go hunt. With the mood he was in, Seth was galled at how any one in the tribe dared talk like that to him, even if it was the King's daughter. All he could do was hide his feelings and tell her, "There are few who do not fear the wrath of Kong."

The young woman smiled and leaned at the edge of the Wall, looking into the fading red glow of sunset and feeling the wind blow around her body. Her chest heaved with desire as she remembered. "No, only cowards fear our god, for he despises the weak and favors the strong; the bold have no fear of him nor should they. Seth, have you seen the hunting party?"

Angry at the insinuation of his being a coward, Seth nodded. "Venerable princess, they have been seen and we were just about to sound the cry."

The young woman braced herself against her spear, its raptor claw blade scraping the stone floor. Smiling as Seth shuddered, Lua said, "Well then, don't let me stop you."

The lookout nodded and looked down over the edge of the Wall to the faraway men at the base of the towering manmade cliff and cried out for everyone to open the Gates. On hearing that, the Wall men heaved and puffed to pull back the gigantic bolts and tugged the massive Gates even as warriors armed with spear and arrow stood ready for anything. Soon enough the hunting party came through into the village and on seeing this, the king came and called for the dozens of villagers there to rush towards the exhausted hunters to take the ropes relieve them of their burden. It happened with the warriors both in front of the Gates and atop the Wall, not letting their aims waver until the portal was closed. It was then and only then, that rising stones as high as a mighty cliff were braced shut by timbers as mighty as the oldest trees that they let themselves rest.

Soon enough the hungry and happy tribesmen began pouring in and every last butcher brought his bloody tools to eagerly go to work. Some women came out and hung their heads in mute misery on seeing that their men had not returned. Regardless, they were in the minority for under the watchful eye of their king, the people were happy on seeing so much food—a grown hadrosaur!—, secure in the knowledge that they would not be hungry. The king declared a celebration and sent for the Storyteller to come and regale them with tales of old. As all this happened, a few people began to notice that the skies were becoming prematurely dark and that everything seemed to go gray. When the full cost of the hunt was told, the people would say that the odd skies were a bad omen. The Storyteller knew better for she saw all this atop the wall and felt fear.

The wrinkled old woman barely acknowledged the men that came for her when she went to the satchel she had left on the ground and rummaged a crude stone figurine of a three-headed thing. She was afraid because she remembered a time when she had been called not Storyteller but Daiyo and had been apprentice to the storyteller before her, Kara. She had been born on Infant Island but when it was Kong that rescued her and her people from outsiders who had enslaved them, she knew who it was she would worship. She also knew that it was Kong who had defeated the three-headed monster in the days of old. Kara turned her head to Skull Mountain where King Kong made his lair and him that if the day should come once again, that he stand alongside the Guardian Monsters once again.

/o0o\

While the cat's away, the mice will play. Doesn't matter who came up with it, it's true. When dark times come people are afraid and do what must be done but in time they grow careless and forget. That's what happened on a global scale. The world was on high alert and kept all eyes open when King Ghidorah first arrived but when Godzilla fought the demon to a draw on Infant Island and drove it away, people grew lax. Though world leaders warned their peoples that the three headed monster could strike at any times, it was hard pressed to keep a population of billions ready when there was no tangible evidence of danger. Despite the initial fear that was felt when the demon showed his hideous face, they began to ask was it even already over?

Far from it because King Ghidorah was not defeated but was only marshaling his strength for another, even greater attack. In the week or two immediately after his battle with Godzilla, the devil's hammer had gone to space to circle the sun and absorb its golden rays into its skin. His open psuedo-flesh had been closing and his broken bones knitting the entire time and now it was time for him to leave and finish what he began. Sailing through the inky, frozen, star-studded, blackness of space in an endless circle above the roiling cauldron, the lake of fire, that was the sun, he was covered in red light. His twin tails twisted and writhed behind him and his wings were outstretched and King Ghidorah looked down at the writhing, infinite inferno as it shot out mile high gouts of white hot flame.

For a time the devil's hammer dove down into the red and yellow photosphere and shot in and out between the solar prominences—giant plumes of burning gas—for no other reason than pleasure. The idea that the three-headed monster was capable of feeling true joy was seemingly incongruous with his malignant nature but there it was. Then, all of a sudden, illuminated salt white from below and silhouetted jet black from above, King Ghidorah flew increasingly faster, accelerating every second, and leaving a contrail of fire behind him. Then all of a sudden, the evil one shot into a ninety degree turn and rocketed straight upwards in a column of fire into the darkness of space.

He flew away from the sun and towards the Earth uttering a cry of madness so terrible that even there was no air to carry it, it could still be heard.

/o0o\

It was at the bottom of the sea, there where it was the deepest of all deeps. It was an underwater canyon tens of thousands of feet deep where the weight of the sea and of the land were so great that the Earth's skin was split at the bottom of it allowing the Earth to bleed the fire that came from its veins. It was there where the fiercest fire touched the coldest water and left the ocean boiling. This strange place was at the bottom of what men would call the Mariana Trench, the deepest place in the world, and it was there, where liquid darkness was illuminated with a river of liquid flame that flowed at the bottom of the canyon that one King of the Monsters was found.

The sea was his domain and there was not one part of it that he did not know of. He had swum the width and breadth of the seas and had walked the bottom on the abysmal plains and had learned where continents clashed. He was glad to know that this was one place that hadn't changed during his sleep of ages and that volcanic trenches where continents pulled apart were still able to heal. It was something he had learned from Titanosaurus, find the place underwater where there is fire and you will be healed. Thus he had searched and had found.

Godzilla swam in the darkness using sight beyond sight for if he were to use his eyes, then even with membranes to protect them from salt he would go blind with contrast between light and dark. The frozen dark water was around him and it was soothing but the beast would have his wounds closed so that he might do battle and so he dove straight down through the murky, ink black water. He dove deeper, ever deeper, with the massive walls of the aquatic canyon that flanked either side of him making even he look small, as small as a human. With his plates steadying him like a shark's fin, the bubbles went by him as his crocodile tail swished from side to side, propelling him ever deeper and ever closer to the light below. Whatever he was going to do he would have to do it fast because as vast as they were, his lungs were fit to burst.

Soon enough the lava river made everything glow an eerie red and the water boil like madness. It was into this cauldron that Godzilla swam and he was bathed in red from the lava that poured from the Earth and made the water roil and steam like a kettle. The King of the Monsters swam into the torrent of boiling water and even skimmed through the lava at the bottom, feeling its burning heat cauterize his remaining wounds and the special minerals seep into him to keep the wounds closed. Godzilla felt pain at this but he ignored it and plunged deeper into the red glowing fire and buried himself in it. For a time there was nothing, so sound no movement. But that was when Godzilla erupted out of the lava river and swam upwards with spines glowing and roaring his mighty roar so that the whole ocean shook.

He was ready for battle and battle there would be for he would find Ghidorah and have his revenge.

Author's Notes/Reader Response

Sir Thames: Always glad to have you on board, sir. Thanks for the kind words. :-)

Gojigrimlocksaurus: Well, as a boy I always thought they were the same. Why Godzilla and the Rex are both scaly dinosaur things that fight Kong, right? How much more evidence could could you need! In making Monster Wars and connecting all the dots, I knew that that was the perfect way to set up the big fight. If you're interested, Book One of Monster Wars is already up and leek for Book Two which will [hopefully] be up in about a week.

Everyone else: Thanks for reading! Remember, love it, hate it just drop a line and I'll be glad to respond. But until then...

See'ya next time!