"Dead president's corpse in the driver's car/The engine runs on glue and tar/Come on along, we're not going very far/To the east, to meet the Czar." – Jim Morrison, "Not to Touch the Earth"
"I've got lizards and snakes running through my body/Funny how they all have my face." – Tori Amos, "Sweet Dreams"
The eclipse was near; Ron could tell by what little light was left from the sun. It wasn't much of natural light left for the world after THEY came. He looked out over the half decimated city, reflecting on what had gone on over the past few decades, with the death of his wife and child, of Drakken, of Shego, and all that he had known. He knew soon he and the rest of the survivors would join him.
It didn't matter. Nothing did anymore. The world was theirs now.
He looked over the edge of what was left of the building he was standing on. He saw so many squabbling in the streets, trying to survive in whatever way they could as all animals did. After many of the world's women had gone insane from seeing the apocalypse slowly descend upon the world, including Kim and Shego, the Old Ones rose out both the sea and sky, taking what they had said they would for so many years. Many of the major cities were destroyed, the farmlands blighted, and communication with the other nations lost.
This city was their haven to delay the inevitable. Guards were placed at every corner to defend it from the shoggoth lords, nightgaunts, and elder things. But it still wouldn't prevent what would surely come at last, when the eclipse would come, bringing the wrath of Azathoth upon the world.
The air of November was cold, causing Ron to pull his coat tighter. Or was it the cold feel of death creeping towards all of them?
It was soon. The moon was now about to cover the sun, but it didn't matter. He was ready for it, ready to see Kim and their child again.
As he looked up, the moon now fully covered the thin light through the hazy clouds. Darkness was creeping in. The shadow of the moon, however, now showed a new light, a hideous sight indeed, the three lobed burning eye of Nyarlathotep.
Kim awoke from this terrible nightmare to find the sun streaming in through the blinds of the bedroom. She looked over and saw her husband, Ron, sleeping peacefully next to her. Her mp3 alarm went off shortly thereafter, playing REM's "Belong" and causing him to stir. Kim's head stirred into full alertness, and she got up, put on her robe, and turned on the high definition television in their room, CNN being the first thing on. Both the alarm and the television would eventually raise Ron from his death like state of sleep in about ten minutes.
As she proceeded into the kitchen, she began reflecting on her dream. Was it a dream? All of it seemed real, seemed too vivid, going into Ron's mind and seeing his lament over things that had not yet come to pass. Ron really did love her, she knew that, but seeing what his mind state was like without her or the child they would eventually have was heart wrenching. She wouldn't tell him of what she saw, as it would frighten him to know that Kim was one of the many psychic women who were seeing these horrible things. The only thing she knew to do was to do something for him and immediately thought of it.
Ron finally awoke twenty minutes after the television and alarm went off. "Control" by POE was playing; he and Kim had numerous discussions on how Anne Danielwsky seemed like a combination of Tori Amos and Radiohead. Hearing this in his ear gave him just enough motivation to get the hell out of bed. He then stumbled out of the bedroom, half asleep, and saw Kim frying some eggs.
"Dammit, Ron," Kim said, smiling, "you ruined the surprise."
"Hey," Ron said, confused, "I thought it was my turn to make breakfast today."
"I won't tell if you don't," She responded, "So hush. It's still a surprise." She had just finished and was putting them on a plate for both of them. Ron walked over and picked up Sophia, Rufus's daughter, out of her cage, letting her run up and down the length of his arms.
"So, did you sleep well, hon?" He asked Kim.
"Yes," she lied and sat down, "did you?"
"Oh yes," he said, "I had that really awesome gladiator dream again, where Julius Caesar came to congratulate me, as did Brutus Pera coming back from his grave." This dream always made her laugh.
"So how is Yori doing?" She decided to ask.
"Well she and Ray finally got married."
"Ray Ray Lee?" She asked, shocked, "Didn't even know she liked younger men. Hey, I want to tell you something."
"What?" Ron said. Sophia was now resting on his shoulders, almost looking in the same anxiousness that Ron felt, as if she could understand them perfectly.
"I want you to know," she began, wondering how exactly she should, "that no matter what happens to me, to you, or to the rest of this world, that I will always love you and be with you. No matter what happens, I will not leave you. We've been through too much, and I can't imagine a moment without you. Even if the rest of the world falls away, I will always be with you. Please, know this."
"What are you saying, Kim?" Ron asked, concern written all over his face. He didn't need to see through her for this one.
"Because," Kim said, hesitating at first, "I'm one of the 2010 psychics. I just started having their dreams about a month ago."
"You should have told me," Ron said, reaching out his hand to touch hers.
"I didn't want you to worry," she continued, "and after ten years, with so many having these nightmares and visions, there really is something to this. Something big and horrible is coming; I think, however, that our purpose is to see what we can do, if there's anything we can do, to stop this."
"What's really to be done?" Ron rhetorically asked, knowing it was still unknown, "How can these ancient horrors, since they most likely exist, be stopped?"
"I don't know," Kim said, "but I think it has something to do with the Membrane girl, as she was the first affected by this. Either way, I shall provide what information I can and see where we would need to move and act."
Act 3, Scene 1: An area near the royal burial ground.
A horse drawn wagon rolls down a dirt pathway as rain slowly falls to the earth. The wagon is adorned with the rarest flowers, and inside lies the corpse of Herriman, who is actually still clearly breathing. Zim watches it pass by to the hill in a long line of mourners, dressed in the most regal of Scottish attire. He has already been crowned king and is now wearing the crown of the man he killed. There is a slight smirk on his mouth as it passes by, but no one notices. Danny is also there and is looking over at Zim.
DANNY: Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all, as the weird women promised, and I fear thou played'st most foully for 't. Yet it was said it should not stand in thy posterity, but that myself should be the root and father of many kings. If there come truth from them— As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine— Why, by the verities on thee made good, may they not be my oracles as well, and set me up in hope? But hush, no more.
The scene then changes to the inside of Macbeth's castle. Zim, Gaz, Cosmo, and Roxas, along with many lords and ladies, enter the scene. It has been a few days after the funeral, but they have now decided to celebrate the new coronation. In a time of war, Scotland was in a hurry to have a new king. Thus, the coronation had to be taken care of before the funeral. Zim notices Danny.
ZIM: Here's our chief guest!
GAZ: If he had been forgotten, it had been as a gap in our great feast, and all-thing unbecoming.
Zim holds up a goblet full of red wine, similar to the blood spilt upstairs a few nights ago.
ZIM: Tonight we hold a solemn supper, sir, and I'll request your presence.
DANNY: Let your highness command upon me, to the which my duties are with a most indissoluble tie forever knit.
ZIM: Ride you this afternoon?
DANNY: Ay, my good lord.
ZIM: We should have else desired your good advice— which still hath been both grave and prosperous— in this day's council, but we'll take tomorrow. Is 't far you ride?
DANNY: As far, my lord, as will fill up the time 'twixt this and supper. Go not my horse the better, I must become a borrower of the night for a dark hour or twain.
ZIM: Fail not our feast.
DANNY: My lord, I will not.
ZIM: We hear our bloody cousins are bestowed in England and in Ireland, not confessing their cruel parricide, filling their hearers with strange invention. But of that tomorrow, when therewithal we shall have cause of state craving us jointly. Hie you to horse. Adieu, till your return at night. Goes Fleance with you?
DANNY: Ay, my good lord. Our time does call upon 's.
ZIM: I wish your horses swift and sure of foot, and so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell.
Danny bows and takes his leave. Zim turns to the rest of the group.
ZIM: Let every man be master of his time till seven at night. To make society the sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself till suppertime alone. While then, God be with you!
Everyone takes their leave except for a very burly servant who looks like he has a lobotomy.
ZIM: Sirrah, a word with you. Attend those men our pleasure?
SERVANT: DUH, Dey arh, mah lord, witout da palace gaaaaaaaaaate.
ZIM: Very well. BRING THEM BEFORE TALLEST ZIM!
The servant wobbles out of the door, hitting his head on the frame but not thinking anything of it. With one final flail, his butt is still in the door, and he lets out a fart. For whatever reason, they don't edit this out of the film.
ZIM: To be thus is nothing, but to be safely thus. Our fears in Banquo stick deep, and in his royalty of nature reigns that which would be feared. 'Tis much he dares, and to that dauntless temper of his mind he hath a wisdom that doth guide his valor To act in safety. There is none but he whose being I do fear, and under him my genius is rebuked, as it is said Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters when first they put the name of king upon me and bade them speak to him. Then, prophetlike, they hailed him father to a line of kings. Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown and put a barren scepter in my grip, thence to be wrenched with an unlineal hand, no son of mine succeeding. If 't be so, for Banquo's issue have I filed my mind; for them the gracious Duncan have I murdered; put rancors in the vessel of my peace only for them; and mine eternal jewel given to the common enemy of man, to make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings! Rather than so, come fate into the list, and champion me to th' utterance. Who's there?
The servant wanders back into the room, holding PAIN and PANIC in each hand. Whenever Zim looks at these two, he can't help but feel some kinship with them, but can't quite place how.
ZIM: Now go to the door and stay there till we call.
The servant drops them both violently and begins to lumber towards the door, only to miss it entirely and walk through the wall, revealing parts of backstage and some anachronistic lights. Still, this is not removed from the film. Zim cringes and turns back to Pain and Panic.
ZIM: Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
PAIN: It was, so please your highness.
ZIM: Well then, now have you considered of my speeches? Know that it was he, in the times past, which held you so under fortune, which you thought had been our innocent self. This I made good to you in our last conference, passed in probation with you, how you were borne in hand, how crossed, the instruments, who wrought with them, and all things else that might to half a soul and to a notion crazed say, "Thus did Banquo."
PAIN: You made it known to us.
ZIM: I did so…AND WENT FURTHERRRRRRRRRR!! Which is now our point of second meeting. Do you find your patience so predominant in your nature that you can let this go? Are you so gospeled to pray for this good man and for his issue, whose heavy hand hath bowed you to the grave and beggared yours forever?
PAIN: Umm…I forgot the line…
PANIC: We are men, my lord.
ZIM: Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men, as hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are clept all by the name of dogs. The valued file distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, the housekeeper, the hunter, every one according to the gift which bounteous nature hath in him closed, whereby he does receive particular addition, from the bill that writes them all alike. And so of men. Now, if you have a station in the file, not i' th' worst rank of manhood, say 't, and I will put that business in your bosoms, whose execution takes your enemy off, grapples you to the heart and love of us, who wear our health but sickly in his life, which in his death were perfect.
PANIC: I am one, my liege, whom the vile blows and buffets of the world have so incensed that I am reckless what I do to spite the world.
PAIN: And I another so weary with disasters, tugged with fortune, that I would set my life on any chance, to mend it or be rid on 't.
ZIM: Both of you know Banquo was your enemy!
PAIN and PANIC: True my lord.
ZIM: SO HE IS MINE; and in such bloody distance that every minute of his being thrusts against my near'st of life. And though I could with barefaced power sweep him from my sight and bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, for certain friends that are both his and mine, whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall who I myself struck down. And thence it is, that I to your assistance do make love, masking the business from the common eye for sundry weighty reasons.
PANIC: We shall, my lord, perform what you command us…Bomb-de-bomb…I feel like blowing something up…
PAIN: Though our thoughts…
Zim interrupts him, putting his hand over Pain's face, nearly covering it with a smile on his.
ZIM: Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most I will advise you where to plant yourselves, acquaint you with the perfect spy o' th' time, the moment on 't; for 't must be done tonight, and something from the palace; always thought that I require a clearness. And with him— to leave no rubs nor botches in the work— fleance, his son, that keeps him company, whose absence is no less material to me than is his father's, must embrace the fate of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart. I'll come to you…ANON!...
PAIN and PANIC: We are resolved, my lord.
ZIM: I'll call upon you straight. Abide within.
Pain and Panic bow and disappear in small explosions. Zim turns to the shadows to muse over his plot. He laughs.
ZIM: It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight, if it find heaven, must find it out TONIGHT!
SCENE CUT!
Zim made his way backstage to see Gaz, who was still in her dress from on screen. She had not thought to change out of it before going back to a book by Edgar Casey. The thoughts of this man intrigued her immensely, and given her recent circumstances, many of his philosophies and outlooks on his gifts began reflecting hers. There was also a collection of books she had brought on the table beside her, among them were some writings of William James, Sir James George Frazer's The Golden Bough, Tobin's Spirit Guide, and an English translation of the dreaded Necronomicon, along with her GS5. As she read her book, there still remained the sound in her head of sirens, blaring out in some distant, deserted city. Or was it a town? The sirens rang out through her mind, a sonorous cacophony of some ancient evil rising from its sleep.
Zim approached her, still covered in kingly robes, but still carrying something in his pocket. He smiled at her, thoughts of taking her into the dressing room and having his way with her, along with the numerous planets they would conquer together.
She looked up at him, the sirens of her mind ending as she looked at him. She gave him a slight smirk.
"So how did the scene go?" Gaz asked.
"Oh you know," Zim began, "Horrid stink weasels who think they can act wander onto the set and the director doesn't cut them out, the usual."
"Horrid stink weasels," Gaz mused, "Is that a favorite phrase of yours? You seem to use it a lot."
"Well…yes…" Zim replied.
"I guess everyone has their limitations on wit." Gaz smiled, jokingly.
"Zim's wit knows no limitation!" Zim said, taking it more seriously than he should, "Oh what wit the ZIM DOTH HAVE!"
"Coming to my performance?" she asked her overly dramatic boyfriend.
"But of course Zim shall be there," Zim said in a tone of needless reassurance.
"Good," Gaz said, "I would have said I would chop your balls off if you didn't go, but then you'd be useless to me, so I guess if you didn't…I'd just…throw your robot bee down a well or something." It was then that Gaz realized the time she was spending with Zim was starting to make her sound more like him, which made her groan and smile on the inside at the same time.
"NO, NOT MY ROBOT BEE!" Zim said, failing to grasp his priorities, "But wait, aren't you tired of performing Shakespeare? The flyer you politely shoved in my face the other day said Hamlet on it."
"That's what the flyer says," Gaz said, "but we're actually putting something different on. It's a surprise. I've also got to tell you that I'm actually meeting a friend there; she's going to provide me information."
"Information," Zim said, "And what form of informative stuff does this human have to provide."
"It's about the nodes," Gaz said, "where the Old Ones are supposedly meant to arise, and something is telling me Danny is going to have dealings with one of them. My friend's name is Cybil, just so you know."
So the hour came for the curtain call. The unsuspecting audience piled in, expecting to see the Danish prince battle his wicked uncle for the thousandth time. Yet, once they piled in all they and Zim saw was a crew creating the stage. Zim looked down at his program and saw none of the characters he expected to see, no Ophelia, no Rosencrantz, no Guildenstern, but he found his loves name listed playing the character of the daughter. The title of the play was unexpectedly different as well, Six Characters in Search of an Audience. Some people walked out in frustration, while others made comments such as, "Oh, this is the same surprise as the New York production."
Then, the characters came out, all in black and wearing creepy masks. Once the daughter spoke, Zim could tell it was Gaz. She delivered a performance nothing short of amazing and suiting to her personality. By the end of the play, when she jumped off the stage and ran down the aisles of the theater among the audience, cackling all the way, none could say they did not have chills down their spine.
Zim went backstage after it was over to tell her she did a marvelous job (and to watch her undress).
"Um, Gaz," Zim said sheepishly, still feeling the effect of the performance, "You did a fantastic job out there. Zim was not expecting that."
"Thanks," she said, changing in front of him; she didn't mind, as he'd seen her in less before.
"Well done, indeed," said a woman's voice behind them, "A Pirandello play is what I needed." Zim turned around to see a blonde woman walking up to the dressing room.
"Cybil," Gaz said, walking out from behind the door after changing, "Glad you could make it, and thanks."
"Who is this person?" Cybil asked, "And why does he have green skin? Is he one of them?"
"How dare you accuse me of being one of them!" Zim exclaimed, not really knowing to they were, "Um, who are they?"
"The Order," Cybil retorted, "They killed my husband and nearly killed my adopted daughter."
"Don't worry," Gaz said, "he couldn't take over the world if he tried, and believe me, he has."
"If only Zim had more resources available to him," Zim said, "Then I could have taken it."
"Anyways, I wanted to ask you about your experiences in Silent Hill," Gaz said.
"Yes," Cybil said, "Let me begin."
It was him. He walked up to his master's feet, his crablike claws holding the box that contained what his master wanted, the shining trapezohedron.
"Here is what you requested," he said in that high pitched voice.
"You've done well, my servant," the demon said, standing before him, baring the appearance as a dark pharaoh without a face, "Soon, our plans will be set in motion."
"Yes," he said, "and not even the Powerpuff Girls can stop us, nor the Membrane girl."
"Certainly not," the pharaoh responded, "But our enemies are still great in numbers. We must strike at them where we can."
"And if our plan fails, what shall we do," he said, his voice now deep and brooding.
"Then we'll have another chance," his master responded, "I've placed the marker in deep space, so that when the humans mine for resources in the star freighter Ishimura after their world falls away at their own doing, we can still turn them to us, and I, Nyarlathotep, with my army of necromorphs, will reign again. We were, we are, and we will be again. Now, go, and spread my message of destruction by destroying the Membranes and all who stand with them."
"Understood, my lord," he said, still maintaining the deep, demonic resonance in his voice. He then vanished into smoke and fire, off to perform the duty he was made to do, to throw the world into the maddening void into darkened oblivion.