I love how the story manages to keep garnering interest. Knowing that people are reading your work is truly a wonderful feeling. X3 Anyway, I suppose I should say that the story did indeed pass 1337 hits, so I'd like to say HOORAY for that. :D Chapter 11 begins now!


Rip meandered casually down the street, keeping his eyes peeled for the shop he was searching for. For some reason, he felt more like walking than simply teleporting through his shadow. Perhaps it was a subconscious desire to get exercise, or because he simply felt like taking his time. After all, if his hunch was incorrect, he could at least enjoy the crisp autumn breeze. The day was drawing to a close, ensnaring Acmetropolis in twilight as the sun went down. He disliked the shortened days of autumn and winter, but the days were certainly lovely. Fallen leaves blew across the pavement, the gentle breeze tousling his comb of feathers. His train of thought was abruptly interrupted by another teenager, a rowdy rapscallion who happened to bump into the young roadrunner.

"Watch where you're going, bro," The teen grumbled dramatically, making odd gesticulations with his hands before swaggering away from the disoriented adolescent. Rip blinked in surprise for a few moments at the teen's behaviour, more than tempted to start an argument and teach the other male who he was messing with. However, he decided not to, and all for one simple reason. It seemed that without his uniform, people didn't seem to recognize him. Despite the fact that he didn't use an alias, people didn't seem to be recognizing him on the street. In a way, it was a relief; he'd seen the legions of citizens who worshipped and adored the other Loonatics. He'd never liked clamour and hordes of admirers. The only things he needed were his family and the people he cared about.

Well, and the information he was searching for. Perhaps if he found an important lead, the others would allow him to participate more actively in missions. He'd only been allowed to take civilians to safety, and even that job was superfluous; civilians had no trouble taking themselves to safety. Sighing, he continued on his little journey, refusing to ask for directions. After all, none of the people he'd seen looked like they dabbled in witchcraft and other similar interests. Of course, he could never know for certain, but it would certainly make it easier if he spotted someone carrying a few aptly labelled bags. However, after a few more blocks of walking, he found the building he was looking for.

Penta Graham's was a small building, which made sense considering its location downtown. It reminded him of a shack, possessing a run-down quality that may or may not have been intentional. The sign seemed like it was made of wood, or a substance with a similar appearance, while the lettering was down in dark red, argon lights. A classic, flip "Open/Closed" sign hung on the door, and he could see a slight bell that would jingle to announce his presence. Taking a calming breath, the roadrunner pushed the door open, the bell overhead clanging loudly to announce his presence. He noted that the inside of the shop was equally dismal, not to mention dimly lit and cluttered with peculiar objects.

The lighting was supplied mostly by glowing orbs, plasma balls, candelabras and the occasional, out-of-place lava lamp. There were numerous bookshelves around the store, including a few located solely behind the counter, where only the clerks had access. Tables upon tables were full of other wares, such as charms, faux shrunken heads, animal bones, and wax figures. His entry had roused the clerk, who seemed to have been asleep at her post before his arrival. Her hair was cut at uneven lengths, yet it all seemed to blend together despite the vast differences in length. She had dyed her hair silver, it seemed, and only her left ear was pierced – the earring appeared to be a miniature dancing skeleton.

"Welcome to Penta Graham's, your number one source for the supernatural, both evil and benign," The clerk announced dully, her nametag reading "Griselda," "What can I help you with, sir?" Her entire greeting was given without even a glance at Rip, as she seemed to have turned her attention to a musty book on the main desk. Rip just shrugged, approaching the counter and leaning upon it. She finally took a look at him, surprise taking hold of both of their faces. The two had met previously, specifically on the day that Rip had acquired his powers. He had been hoping that she'd be working that day, but hadn't honestly expected it. Griselda's look of surprise quickly shifted into a scowl, her arms crossing beneath her chest.

"What do you want," She asked, sounding rather irritated with the other adolescent, "I've already told you guys everything about what happened. The guy came in, said some stuff, and then my body was taken over. Isn't that enough information for you? Or maybe you just like hassling victims until they confess to something they didn't do. Is that it? You came here to make me confess? Well, I'm not going to admit to something I never did, so you can just get the fuck out of here if you don't have anything better to do." The roadrunner looked rather shocked, but he understood where she was coming from. He decided he'd best make his intentions clear, since she obviously didn't seem like she wanted to talk about the incident.

"Look, that's not what I'm here for," Rip stated, ignoring the girl's masterful sarcastic eyebrow raising, "I just wanted to know if you had the book that guy brought in. Y'know, when he took over your body and stuff." Griselda's features softened immediately, her face taking on a thoughtful expression. After a moment, she nodded and proceeded to leave the counter, heading into a well-hidden back room that the teen hadn't spotted upon entering the building. A few minutes passed, and the young woman returned, gingerly holding a rough, leather-bound novel in her hands. When she passed the book to Rip, he took a brief glance at its title, which simply said "Astral Projection: a How-to Guide."

"Here it is, I guess. Shouldn't you be wearing gloves if you're going to look for fingerprints or something," Griselda asked, handing the book to Rip. He simply shook his head, claiming that he'd "explain in a second." The roadrunner held the book for a few minutes, flipping through pages and trying to repeat the mysterious incident that had occurred in his brother's room. Rip even retraced the path the doll-eyed man would have followed while carrying the book, and he still didn't experience the strange flashback-like shift of scenery. Sighing, he handed the book back to the other teenager, shaking his head sadly.

"I don't understand. I thought I might've been able to have a flashback about what happened when he hypnotized you," Rip explained, looking disappointed, "That way, we could have had a more definite idea of who we were after, or some more definite proof as to his identity." As he spoke, he made his way over to the memorabilia, deciding that he could at least look through the items for sale. Perhaps he would stop feeling like he'd wasted his time by coming to the shop, and wasted Griselda's time by having her retrieve the tome. However, as he was feeling around the charms, he heard the entry bell jangle for a second time. He and Griselda both turned as one to look at the person who'd just entered, finding a well-dressed man clad entirely in black.

"Pleasant day," The man stated, his voice sounding hollow and far away, "It's a pleasure to see you again, Griselda." His face seemed twisted into a permanent grin, his skin glossy and shiny in the candlelight. Rip looked over at the clerk, whose face was contorted in horror. She immediately conjured up a fireball and threw it at the man, who merely opened the door and let it sail past him and into the street. The man then looked up, looking at the teens with the same, unfaltering grin. Suddenly, the young roadrunner realized who they were dealing with; the Doll-eyed Man himself had come to meet them. Everything about the man oozed malevolence, and he immediately took a defensive stance, his shadow wriggling about the floor in the dim lighting.

The man simply grinned at the teenagers, skilfully evading another haphazard fireball. He moved in a strange, jerky manner which seemed to be both elegant and awkward. In fact, his motion seemed almost independent of his body, something which was both puzzling and disturbing. Thinking fast, Rip forced his shadow to slink up his arm and jut outward in spikes, directing them at the Doll-eyed Man. However, his attack was also evaded, and the strange foe continued to draw closer. Several attempts were made to strike their enemy, but none of them proved fruitful; soon enough, both teens had been forced into the corner. Panic was beginning to overtake Rip's thoughts, just as it had already taken over Griselda's.

The man drew closer still, a strange purple aura beginning to form about his body. Without thinking, Rip grabbed Griselda by the wrist and sunk into his shadow, pulling her through with him into the street outside the store. Almost immediately, the man was at the door, pushing it open with a choppy thrust and ambling out of the building. Neither teen had to say anything in order to understand what they needed to do; they had to run. Footfall after footfall, the teens ran down the street, pushing through the crowds as they tried to put distance between them and their pursuer. However, the Doll-eyed Man was still right behind them, easily slipping through the flocks of people filling the streets.

Rip and Griselda continued to run, fear impairing their judgement and rational thought capacity. Logically, Rip could have simply teleported the two of them farther away – to the Loonatics' headquarters, for example – but that thought had simply slipped their minds. Rational thought wasn't easy to come by when adrenaline and fear had taken the pilot's seat. Eventually, the teens had run into the construction site, where they were hopelessly cornered. The only things that were still around where a small set of unused I-beams and wheelbarrows, all of which would eventually vacate the premises now that the building was nearly complete. As if on cue, the Doll-eyed Man arrived, standing at the gate ominously.

Thinking quickly, or perhaps not thinking at all, Rip made his shadow snake across the ground, quickly ensnaring an I-beam in its ethereal tendrils. Then, with all the force he could muster, the roadrunner tossed the beam, watching as it sailed through the air. To his surprise, the beam connected with the man, a loud splintering noise reaching their ears as the man was knocked off his feet and into the street a few feet away. Immediately after the impact, the curious purple energy seemed to burst from the man's body, shooting past the two teens and away from the scene. Panting heavily, Griselda and Rip cautiously moved toward the Doll-eyed Man, gasping audibly at what they saw.

Calling him the doll-eyed man was an incredibly accurate statement. It appeared that the man was merely a mannequin, a wooden dummy with poorly constructed joints and a permanent smile. However, if that was the case, then that meant the criminal they had been searching for was really the bizarre, glowing globule of purple energy. Rip groaned after understanding the situation, smacking himself in the forehead and sinking to his rear in frustration. Griselda simply sat down next to him, evidently confused by everything that had just occurred.

"I'm never doing another séance again," Griselda announced, glancing briefly at Rip. For some reason, the comment broke the tension, and the roadrunner couldn't help but burst into laughter. After a second or two, the girl joined him, and the two laughed heartily for a few moments. When the laughter subsided, they retained their smiles, although they were certainly more subdued than the ones they'd worn only seconds before.

"My nametag is wrong," Griselda said suddenly, deciding at that moment to convey an afterthought, "My name's Julie. The owner of the store just wanted me to use a name that seemed fitting with the store. He's an odd son of a bitch."

"I'm Rip," He replied, smiling at the young woman. The two conversed briefly, and eventually went their separate ways, the roadrunner leaving with the horribly damaged mannequin. They'd decided to hang out again sometime, although they couldn't make any guarantees about a time. After all, Rip was going to be busy trying to find a way to bring their strange enemy to justice.


"Where've you been, Rip? You're three hours and 27 minutes late for your tutoring," Tech said, irritation evident in his voice as he worked on some device at his workbench, "I understand that you were upset about earlier, but you can't just hide in your room until you feel like—" The coyote's speech was interrupted by Rip slamming the wooden mannequin onto the table, eliciting a yelp from the green, furry genius. Rip just grinned at the older male, who looked questioningly at the teen and the figure, eyes darting several times between the two.

"I found our doll-eyed man," Rip explained, "And I don't think that a normal jail's going to keep him under wraps for long." Thus, Rip continued his explanations, recounting all the events that had occurred in the last few hours. Tech merely nodded at every statement, clearly deep in thought. However, after a moment, he rummaged through his desk and pulled out a few sheets of paper and some pencils and erasers.

"I'm going to have to work on an energy containment field, if this guy really is an energy being," Tech sighed, rubbing his temples before setting to work on sketches, "You should probably go get some rest, Rip; you sound like you're getting a little hoarse."

"Yeah, it's probably from all the running I did. I think I might be coming down with a cold too, though, so I'm not sure," Rip shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets, "What about my classes? You were just babbling on about how I was late for them."

"Forget the classes for now; we need this thing down ASAP if we're going to catch this guy. Besides, you've obviously been through quite a bit today. Go get some rest," Tech said, his tone indicating the termination of the conversation. Rip just shrugged and nodded, leaving the lab to the genius. He groaned softly, the toll of all his running and his imminent illness catching up with him. If there was ever a time when he felt horribly unwell, that time was easily overshadowed by the aches he was experiencing. The teen gingerly moved toward his bedroom, simply flopping down onto his bed. Within moments of hitting his pillow, he was asleep, although it wasn't going to be peaceful by any means.


Well, there's chapter 11. It's a bit shorter than the last couple chapters I've done, but I hope it was good enough for you. I'm planning on including a proper tutelage scene, but I can't guarantee that it'll occur; it's mostly a minor detail which I didn't really plan on focusing on. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you stick around for the conclusion!