This is a story is based on the Gargoyles universe created by Greg Wiseman and Michael Reaves. Gargoyles and related characters are registered trademarks of Buena Vista Television and Walt Disney Studios. The stories and characters not described above are original creations of T'Layna MacMathain, and Poison Thorns Productions. Copyright © 2000 All rights reserved.
Resurrection
By
T'Layna MacMathain
Chapter 3
Birth of a Clan
Cynthia Underhill was anxiously awaiting the end of class. It was the last class of the day and she was looking forward to coming to San Francisco for a night of fun and frolic. She sat and daydreamed all day in class for the most part. The professor in her last class busted her for daydreaming, but Professor Morrison was a ditz as far as Cynthia was concerned. She couldn't get her mind of that Goth guy she met at the club. Though she looked like a typical college kid from Suburbia USA, she would drop the image entirely and go Goth. She loved the way her deep red hair looked when she was all dolled up and so did Tombstone.
They had plans to go to the concert that was in San Francisco later tonight. A new band called Morbid Dementia had been making a big splash in the Bay Area Goth scene. Tombstone had agreed to let Cynthia come over and doll herself up in his apartment so they wouldn't be rushed when they went to the club. The ringing of the bell signaling the end of the school day broke her reverie. She hurried out of class and hopped the Muni Metro into downtown. Thirty minutes later she was walking into Tombstone's apartment. Her jaw dropped open when she saw the statue in the living room.
"Damn! I know Viper likes statues, but this is just too much." Cynthia remarked in amazement. "It even looks like her!"
"Only because it is," Tombstone remarked bitterly. "Well, it was Viper until this morning!" Cynthia also noticed Ariel sitting next to the statue. She was crying. Cynthia then asked the crying girl what happened. Ariel then recounted the events leading up to Viper turning into a statue. Ariel blamed herself for what happened and began to wonder aloud if this was some kind of curse heaped upon her by her parents. Cynthia could also tell that Tombstone was equally rattled by the events. Tombstone suddenly perked up.
"What is it?" Cynthia asked.
"I might know someone who can explain all of this. I only met her one time about a year ago, but she is very knowledgeable about stuff like this. She is a wise old crone who is known as Lady Morvyn. She is the adopted mother of Dementia, a girl I was dating at the time. She claims her spirit is three thousand years old. She is definitely a mystic and also claims to be a sorceress. If she doesn't know, she will know who does. I need to see if Dementia can bring her over."
"What about the concert?" Cynthia asked with indignation.
"Screw the concert. Although Viper and I are not lovers, we are still friends, and I always stick by my friends." Tombstone called up Dementia and asked her if she could bring Lady Morvyn over to his place. Fifteen minutes later, Dementia returned the call and told them to be expecting Lady Morvyn and a young Goth male known only as Axe.
Time seemed to drag on forever. After what seemed like an eternity, the intercom buzzed and a delicate voice answered Tombstone's query. He then gave her directions and released the door lock. Two minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Standing in the door was a Gothic version of his grandmother and a young Goth male of about twenty-five. As expected, she was dressed all in black and wore two pendants about her neck. One was a Celtic dragon, with wings spread. The other was a dog-like gargoyle with wings and a fierce expression on its face. A black lace veil was the only other garment she wore. Her fingers were done in a deep blood red and decorated with spider rings. On her forehead was a strange tattoo that consisted of six mystic icons arranged in a vertical column. She also had an ebony walking staff that was carved to look like a dragon's claw clutching a crystal sphere atop the staff. She looked every bit of the weird old witch.
The male Goth was dressed in a similar manner as Tombstone, but he wore a chain about his neck that bore a large ankh pendant. He also had a black cane that was wrapped in a brass dragon. His hair was as long as Ariel's, but in a deep blue with red streaks. Ariel was beginning to wonder if she and Cynthia was the only normal ones in this apartment full of haunted house escapees.
"My name is Tombstone."
"Yes, I remember. You were dating my daughter Dementia." Lady Morvyn said with a smile. "May I introduce you to Axe. He is Dementia's current boyfriend. He insisted on coming with me for protection. My family is very protective of me, as I am of them. I take it that this statue is the problem?"
"You have seen this phenomenon before?" Tombstone replied with amazement.
"Aye, lad." Lady Morvyn replied wistfully, "Many, many years ago in a previous life." She studied the statue with academic detachment. She then noticed the dragon pendant. Seeing that, she took her staff and held the crystal near the dragon pendant. The crystal sphere began to emit an eerie crimson glow. "Ye should worry not, lad. Your friend lives within. She is in metamorphosis. She is the messenger of the Prophecy."
"Messenger of what Prophecy?" Cynthia asked.
"Gather 'round laddies and lassies." Lady Morvyn said in the grand style of an old Scottish storyteller, "A thousand years ago in the Scottish highlands, a prophecy was written by a wise old crone in my clan, and handed down generations within my family. I am a direct descendent of the crone that wrote the Prophecy. The Prophecy stated that the messenger would bear the Dragon Stone amulet. The spell should end at sunset. All is well as it should be."
"Fantastic." Tombstone sighed with relief.
"Ye understand little, lad. This is only the beginning." Lady Morvyn warned, "For all of ye, myself included."
"What does all this have to do with me?" Ariel wailed. "She just fed me and gave me a bed for a night, and now she's gone! I know somehow that this is entirely my fault. I am cursed!"
"Yeah, what is this 'we' shit?" Cynthia shot back, "I'm not part of this circus act!"
"Fear not, little ones. Like all of us here, we were all destined to be here. This includes you, my dear children," she shot a stern glance toward Ariel and Cynthia, "Be forewarned that all of your lives will be different. We all will soon return to our..." Her words were interrupted by the sound of cracking stone. The four turned their heads to the source of the sound. It was the statue of Viper. A series of cracks began to form in the stone, white light seeping through the cracks adding a strange light to the apartment. Only Lady Morvyn was prepared for what emerged from the crumbling rock.
An ear-splitting roar that sounded like an enraged panther and a screaming eagle pierced the silence. A humanoid form with massive black bat-like wings emerged from the rubble. The creature was all barbs and horns. Amazingly, her dress though tattered somehow managed to cover her more intimate areas and at the same time looked kind of sexy. The creature was a light blue color and had a long, prehensile tail tipped with a series of wicked-looking spikes. The creature then spread its wings to an impressive span over four meters across. The apexes of each wing bore three digit claws. She looked like Viper, but different. Her face was still basically Viper's, but her ears were now long and pointed. She also had three horns above the eyes that almost resembled a tiara. The Viper creature then began examining itself and an alarmed expression took hold when she saw the three massive toes on fetlocks where her feet should be. She also saw that her hands now had only three fingers and a thumb, each tipped with a strong claw. Though horrific looking to the others at first, Lady Morvyn smiled. She is as beautiful as I remember them. Another ear-splitting scream was heard followed by the thump of something heavy hitting the floor. The Viper creature had fainted. Cynthia and the others just stood paralyzed in total astonishment at the turn of events.
Lady Morvyn knelt next to the silent form of Viper and removed the Dragon Stone amulet from her neck. She then held it to each of the others in the apartment and noted with satisfaction that the stone glowed richly as it was held close to each person. She then touched her forehead with the Dragon Stone. The stone turned a deep red color then returned to blue. Lady Morvyn soon began chanting something in a long-lost language. She then reattached the Dragon Stone to Viper's neck. Satisfied, she then reached into her beltpak and pulled out a small pouch of something and sprinkled some of it on the nose of the fainted creature. Seconds later, she arose.
"What the fuck happened to me?" Viper roared, her eyes taking on a menacing red glow.
"You fainted." Axe replied.
"Not that, you dork!" Viper hissed menacingly, "What happened to my body?"
"Fear not. You wear the Dragon Stone, and you are one of us." Lady Morvyn explained. "My name is Lady Morvyn, and I am the keeper of the Prophecy. You are the messenger of the Prophecy. The Second Race will be reborn."
"Second Race?" Viper remarked with obvious surprise, "That's what that weirdo fey woman said to me earlier."
"Fey?" Lady Morvyn asked, concern deep in her voice, "Was she a servant of Oberon?"
"She said she was."
"Did she have two other sisters with her?"
"No. She was alone. She had a strange voice for a woman, kind of gravely and deep."
"You actually know these people she's jabbering about?" Cynthia inquired her curiosity now thoroughly piqued.
"Trust in Lady Morvyn" Axe counseled the frightened and confused girl, "Lady Morvyn's wisdom is ancient and her knowledge spans millennia. I don't understand it all, for she is far older than I, but I have seen enough to know she is wise and just."
"Axe, me lad, you do an old heart justice," Lady Morvyn replied with a smile, "Aye, lass. That was Lady Titania in disguise. Her voice is distinctive." Lady Morvyn visibly relaxed. "Lady Titania is Oberon's mate and ruler of Avalon. Be very wary of a fey named Puck. His 'gifts' usually come with a high price and his humor borders on cruel. This can be a problem, though. Lady Titania never intervenes except in pending danger."
"How do you know so much about these fey?" Ariel asked with suspicion mixed with curiosity.
"One of my ancestors was fey. I am not fully human. In fact, I am the child of a fey and the Second Race. I only appear as human because of my ancient vow to Oberon to honor the Prophecy. Some of us were hidden among humanity as humans to escape humanity's shortsighted stupidity. Thanks to you, Viper, I will no longer need this form. Like you, I will turn to stone soon and emerge into a form similar to your own."
"What is this form called?" Viper asked, afraid of the answer.
"We are called Gargoyles."
"Wonderful!" Viper hissed, "I'm now a rain spout! Can you reverse this spell? I have no desire to be the world's only Gargoyle."
"No. That would require the powers of Oberon or perhaps the Lady Titania," Lady Morvyn explained, "When or if we get to Avalon, perhaps you could ask Oberon. It was their power that created the Dragon Stone. In just a few hours, you will no longer be alone. As I explained to your friends here, I will be turning to stone as you did and I will emerge as a Gargoyle." Ariel looked at Viper with an odd bit of fascination. She then returned her gaze to Lady Morvyn.
"You actually want to become a monster like that?" Ariel asked.
"Monster?" Lady Morvyn replied like a mother teaching an errant child, "Gargoyles are protectors, not monsters. Humanity has been far more monstrous than any Gargoyle ever has been save one. Tombstone, Cynthia and Ariel, your destinies lie with the Dragon Stone."
"Count me out of this crazy act!" Cynthia shot back.
"Me too," Axe replied, "I'm not ready to give up Dementia yet."
"Fear not, Axe, for you are not of the Prophecy. You are purely of the First Race. The others are blessed with the latent magic inherent to the Second Race." With that said, she removed the Dragon Stone from Viper and held it close to Axe. The stone did not glow as it did with the others.
Without warning, Ariel grabbed the Dragon Stone and held it in her hand. It began to glow with a rich, blue light. When she held it to Axe, the stone darkened, but when held to Tombstone and Cynthia, the stone regained its blue glow.
"Part of a Gargoyle's essence is magic," Lady Morvyn explained, "The Dragon Stone merely detects the magical component inherent to all Gargoyles. The Dragon Stone also contains the spell necessary to revert those of us in human form back to Gargoyles." As Ariel listened, the stone had begun to glow red. She dropped the Dragon Stone with alarm.
"No!" Ariel wailed. "Something is happening to me!" Seconds later, she had turned to stone.
* * *
Officer Rafael Ramirez was sitting back finishing off the remainder of a very greasy grilled ham and cheese sandwich. A portly cop in his mid-forties of Puerto Rican descent, he leaned back in his chair relishing the prospects for tonight's game. He couldn't wait till he got off duty. The New York Mets were in town to play the Giants. For once, the Mets were playing great ball, not to mention the Giants. This promised to be a great game. Ramirez loved baseball, and he hoped that the Giants would play in the World Series this year. He took another sip from the soda sitting on his desk when he saw Inspector Fujimori walk up to the window.
"Hey Inspector," Ramirez said, wiping off a morsel of cheese stuck to his lower lip, "Got a spare ticket to the game tonight. Mets are in town. First base side, near the plate. Want to join me later? Rizzo, Daniels and Harrigan will be there. We all got a nice section together."
"Damn! Sounds like you guys are trying to set up a precinct in the ballpark!" he laughed.
"Don't it though? What can I do for you today?"
"Raffy, I wish I could," sighed the Inspector, "Lieutenant Garner stuck me with a hotshot case. I need to see that PT-92AF that got brought in a last night from the 261 out on the beach. Some stupid clerk listed the weapon as being crushed. Here's the case number." He handed Ramirez some paperwork.
"Only because it is crushed. By the way, I'm the stupid clerk." Ramirez replied with mock indignation on his handsome Latin features.
"Really? Sorry, guy, I didn't know," replied Inspector Fujimori, properly rebuked.
"Forget it, pal." Two minutes later, Ramirez returned with a plastic bag with a yellow band across the face of it emblazoned with the word 'EVIDENCE' in large, red letters. "Fuckin' shame, you know? This was a damn fine weapon. The owner's gonna really be pissed." The Inspector nodded his head in agreement.
Inspector Fujimori looked at the distorted mass of steel and plastic. Whatever crushed this weapon was not a human being. This took a lot more force than any human being is capable of mustering without tools. He also noticed deep scratches and what appeared to be a deep puncture in the plastic handgrip similar to a large diameter nail puncture.
"Son of a bitch!" was all the Inspector could mutter. He handed the weapon back to Ramirez and left shaking his head.
The next stop on his itinerary for this morning was a trip to the NCIC computer. The NCIC was a nationwide network of computers that accessed a huge database of crime information shared among police agencies all across the United States. A pretty young African-American woman by the name of Denise was on duty this morning. Inspector Fujimori smiled. He always enjoyed Denise's warm smile and her sweet disposition, not to mention her ample cleavage. He wished everyone could be as positive and as happy as Denise is. It would sure make this world a lot better place to live in and probably a lot less violent as well.
"Hi Inspector Fujimori," Denise said with her trademark smile, "What can I do for you today?" She swiveled around in her chair, revealing a rich, chocolate-colored pair of perfectly sculpted legs. Denise's beauty was nearly legendary. One bedazzled and very heterosexual Lieutenant even remarked once he would consider a sex change and go lesbian for her. The Inspector, along with most of the men on the force wished she were not a lesbian. Not in a hateful sort of way, but one of injustice. The injustice of knowing that they can only look, but never have the chance to indulge. Denise was living with an institutional police sergeant over in the Ingleside District. Lesbian or not, Denise was one of those kind of very sweet and feminine women that everyone found impossible to dislike. She was also damned good at what she did, and that's what counted.
"I need you to do a wants-and-warrants on these three perps, and I need an M.O. run with these specifics." Denise took the spec sheet from the Inspector and started typing in the instructions to the NCIC computer. Seconds later, the data was sent upline into the network.
"Check back by later today or tomorrow," Denise said sweetly.
Unbeknownst to Inspector Fujimori or Denise, there was a pair of "daemons," or robot programs, lurking within the NCIC system that lay in wait, scanning for information that contained specific key words. Though each daemon had a different author, they did the same thing. When they detected information with the specified keywords, they copied and relayed the data to specific terminals as per their instructions.
One such daemon directed Inspector Fujimori 's query to a tiny, cluttered office tucked away in the basement of a police precinct in Manhattan. Technically, the daemon was unauthorized and therefore illegal, but a cop wrote the daemon with his own considerable computer savvy, and since only a cop saw the data, it wasn't illegal per se, as far as he was concerned. He knew the system intimately and knew how to dodge the watchdogs that could get him in trouble with the brass. Not that anything like that ever really concerned him. He was very unorthodox in his approach to police work, and very independent. Most of his fellow officers considered him to be a flake and were often amused by his bizarre conspiracy theories and antics.
Detective Matt Bluestone was busy on a coffee break studying a case file that he had to review before going to court tomorrow on an immigrant smuggling case. He accidentally stumbled upon the smuggling ring while investigating some alleged secret CIA conspiracy that involved the Illuminati. This was typically what happened with Detective Bluestone. Over half of his major felony arrests were the result of pure accident more than conventional investigation. Still, the job of the NYPD is getting criminals off the street, and though the NYPD brass didn't particularly like the way Bluestone operated, they tolerated him because he was surprisingly effective.
The other daemon however, was an entirely illegal one. The intercepted data was sent to a computer through a highly sophisticated router with an embedded security subsystem that stymied all attempts at detecting the illegal data tap. The router triggered an audible alarm in the daemon programmer's computer room. The computer operator wheeled his way over to another bank of computers, slid out the keyboard tray, then typed in a series of commands. The data began scrolling on the monitor screen, eagerly absorbed by a softly glowing pair of yellow-white eyes.
* * *
As Ariel remained in her stone form, Lady Morvyn began to tell the sad and tragic story of how most of Gargoyle kind had been slaughtered over the years by humanity. Despite the strange events going on, Axe, Tombstone and Cynthia listened in rapt fascination. As she continued, Lady Morvyn noticed the tears in the corners of the eyes of Cynthia. Even Tombstone seemed to be more somber than usual. Viper was also listening, but also checking out her new form. After the initial shock wore off, Viper began to realize there were certain features that were appealing.
"Can I fly with these things?" Viper inquired as she experimented with her new wings.
"Not fly as a bird flies," Lady Morvyn pointed out, "but glide on air currents more in the manner of a flying squirrel. Although Gargoyles are powerful creatures, our wing musculature is insufficient to actually propel you in flight. Usually, we jump off a suitably high enough structure like a high cliff, rooftop or a castle parapet and the air currents do the rest. If we are not high enough, we have powerful claws that allow us to climb up most anything, including solid stone walls."
The air once again filled with the sound of cracking stone. Thirty seconds later, Ariel emerged from her stone prison; casting gravel-sized pieces of stone everywhere. Ariel had emerged looking much like Viper, but Ariel was turquoise with deep blue wings. Unlike Viper, she had two long horns that curved over the top of her auburn tresses. Her wings were also different in the fact that they were tipped with a single, curved finger-like appendage at the apexes.
"Shit!" Tombstone spat in comic disgust, "I just shoveled up a pile of rocks from Viper!"
"Oh my God!" Ariel cried, "My mother is going to freak!" Viper came over to comfort her new sister. Ariel soon found herself in a warm embrace and wrapped in Viper's soft wings. Although frightened, the young Gargoyle found much needed comfort in Viper's sisterly embrace. They both knew that they were now sisters in spirit as well as in species now.
"Kids," Lady Morvyn said as she looked in the direction of Tombstone and Cynthia, "You are also going to be changing sometime today. Each of you touched the Dragon Stone, and thus the spell is already cast in you. I strongly recommend we find a suitable place on the roof of a building before sunrise."
"Why?" Cynthia asked, irritation evident in her voice.
"Gargoyles have a unique sleep cycle. We sleep by day as stone and come alive at sunset. On the plus side, our recuperative powers during stone sleep are phenomenal. Even a seriously injured Gargoyle can be as good as new after only one sleep cycle. On the down side, there is serious vulnerability. Remember to always be aware of the time of day. You must find suitable and safe shelter before sunrise. When we are stone, we heal, but we are also extremely vulnerable and totally defenseless. If you are airborne when sunrise comes and you happen to turn to stone while you are three or four hundred meters in the air, you will fall like a lead pigeon and be destroyed on impact. Once we are broken in stone sleep, we die. Also remember that when we are stone, our density increases sharply. Ariel is the smallest of us and might weigh 60 or 70kg awake but will weigh as much as a Volkswagen when she's asleep. I doubt that the floor of this apartment can handle five tons of sleeping Gargoyles roosting on it."
* * *
Sunshine had spent much of the night in restless sleep. Something that Belynda said during her retelling of the story about the attack had tickled something in the back of her mind. The part about the crushed gun in particular. She had heard of something like that before, but where?
Belynda moaned and squirmed all night long. Sunshine shook her head. She had seen this too many times. She wanted to destroy every rapist in the most horrible ways she could imagine. She hated feeling that way because of them. The poor kid's going to take a long time to heal, she thought sadly. The girl started mumbling. Sunshine listened closely.
"Help!" the young girl muttered unconsciously, "Oh my God...monster...flying...nooo" and the girl returned to silent sleep. Flying monsters? What on earth is going through that poor child's head? The kid is having a nightmare. Odd, she did mention that there was a large bat thing when she recounted her ordeal. Sunshine thought it might be some kind of temporary insanity brought on by the horror of what happened to her. Belynda started mumbling again, her voice barely audible and slurred.
Sunshine listened intently but only was able to make out one word. It sounded like 'gargle' or 'gurgling'. Suddenly the proverbial light bulb lit up inside Sunshine's head. She picked up the phone and dialed up long distance information. About ten seconds later, she was writing down the number offered to her by directory assistance. She then hung up and then redialed a number in the 212 area code. Five thousand kilometers away, a man in a small office in a Manhattan high rise picked up the phone.
"WVRN News, O'Connor here. May I help you?"
"Jerry, this is Sunshine in San Francisco. Remember the story about that attack on that clock tower in Manhattan a few years ago?"
"I ought to, I worked that story when I was coming up." He replied dryly.
"Trust me, get out here to San Francisco. A girl came to my place early this morning all banged up and with no top or bra. She said three men tried to rape her."
"So?" O'Connor acidly replied, "Why the hell should I fly all away across the country to cover a lousy story your local police beat reporter probably already covered or discarded by now. I can't even ask the boss on this one. After he laughs his ass off at me, he will bite my head off and my career goes swirling down the bowl."
"Oh, I think you will," she sweetly replied, "This girl claims she was rescued by a huge bat-like monster that flies. She said it attacked the three men who were trying to rape her and tied them up. She thinks the SF cops might have the three skuzzballs already in custody. She called the creature a Gargoyle."
* * *
Inspector Fujimori was busy munching on a stale doughnut when the phone on his desk rang. Quickly choking down the dry pastry with cold coffee, he finally managed to get his mouth cleared enough to answer.
"Inspector Fujimori here."
"This is Sergeant Duvall here. We're doing the scene here on that 261 case. I think you need to get over here to the beach, sir."
"What's going on, Sarge?"
"We found something mondo weird here. While we were shooting pics, we found some really weird footprints. They look like something that belongs in a zoo, I swear to God!"
"Stop what you're doing. I'm on the way!" He slammed down the phone and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. Officer Richardson had just entered the squad room when she spotted the inspector. She held up a file for him to grab.
"Park it on my desk, Richardson."
"Sir?" was all she was able to get out of her mouth, as the door to the squad room slammed shut. Shrugging her shoulders, she placed the file on his desk and walked back out with that derisive snort of disgust that only women can do.
He decided to put on the red light and speed up the trip to the crime scene. He arrived there and was relieved to still see the area cordoned off while the techs were photographing the scene. A young looking sergeant came up to the Inspector.
"Inspector, we've found something weird here. Never seen anything like it. We also found blood all over the place. We found this as well. He pointed over to a palm tree that was about ten meters tall. Look at these odd punctures." The Inspector looked closely at the punctures. They were arranged in clusters of three and four holes. The smaller holes were as large as dimes and the larger ones as large as quarters. Upon closer inspection, he noticed there appeared to be dried blood on some of holes. He also noticed distinct patterns in the holes. The smaller holes were in fours grouped in an arcing pattern and the larger ones were in threes, arranged in straight lines.
"Photograph and measure those holes," the Inspector crisply ordered, "I want a detailed analysis of any possible patterns that can make these odd punctures. I noticed some of them look like they have dried blood in them. Make sure you mark the locations. I don't want any screw-ups!"
"There's more, Inspector," Sergeant Duvall stated as he pointed to another area where small red flags were placed to mark evidence. The two cops trudged over to the area. The Inspector saw then why the sergeant decided to call him in. There were odd looking prints with three sharply pointed toes. Unlike a human footprint, these were more compact and much more circular. The indeed looked more like the paw prints of a large animal like a lion or bear. There were also strange, S-shaped tracks between the footprints as well.
The inspector noticed a bloody impact crater where the cop had pointed. He remembered that there was bloody sand on the perps. He then ordered the crater photographed and measured. He also asked the tech to calculate the height a person of Rico and Birdman's sizes would have to fall to produce those craters. Inspector Fujimori was leaving nothing to chance.
"I want detailed measurements here and plaster casts. Damn! This case is getting more Twilight Zone every minute." Inspector Fujimori muttered as he shook his head. His attention was soon piqued when he heard the shout of another technician.
"We just found this." The officer pointed to a backpack lying in some scrub. The pack was black nylon and had a large patch of an upraised middle finger.
* * *
Belynda woke up the next afternoon and quietly slipped out of Sunshine's apartment while Sunshine was in the tub. She was having a difficult time understanding what happened. She didn't even know what day it was or how she even got to Sunshine's place. She was also heartbroken to learn her pack was missing. It was all she had left. She began to wander aimlessly as the dusk became night.
She began to wonder if she was now being victimized by some unseen evil curse. She was going insane. She knew she was, and yet she also knew she was powerless to stop it. She had been hallucinating the night of the rape attempt. She felt damaged and freakish. She was unaware of the man that was eyeing her discreetly from a nearby alley just a few meters ahead. His jaundiced eyes blazed with malice as he smiled a predator's smile.
Snake was the moniker everyone knew him as. Life had been difficult for Snake. A former resident of Detroit, his family had moved to what they thought was a wonderful opportunity in New York. Things didn't go quite as planned for Snake's parents, and for much of Snake's childhood, he had little supervision. He soon fell in with a local street gang and went downhill from there.
His adult life fared better. Deciding that crime was easier and more profitable, he began a career of robbery, burglary and auto theft. He soon found suitable employment within the remnants of the Dracon organization as an enforcer. His ruthlessness and sneaky ambushes soon earned him the nickname of Snake. His luck took a turn for the worse as his drinking, gambling and drug use soon got him in disfavor with his employers.
He returned to petty street crime. One night during a stickup of a bodega, his luck finally ran out. The clerk had tripped the alarm. He had just exited the front door when trouble in the form of two Gargoyles named Hudson and Goliath appeared. After serving a five-year sentence in Dannemora State Penitentiary, he decided to pull up stakes and get the heck out of New York and set up shop in San Francisco. At least there are no Gargoyles there.
Belynda suddenly felt a hand grab her arm in a painful, vise-like grip and pull her hard into the alley. As she stumbled off balance, her attacker continued his arc of motion, slamming the disoriented girl painfully into the brick wall. Belynda desperately tried to focus and react to this sudden danger. She soon saw a silvery flash followed by a soft metallic click as Snake popped open a switchblade.
Belynda screamed in terror. Almost as a reply, she heard a blood-chilling animalistic roar. Oh God no! Not again! She heard that same roar before! She had just managed to get up and try to walk as something dropped out of the sky and landed softly just a few meters in front of her. Her eyes widened with alarm as she saw a man-sized creature with huge bat's wings silhouetted by the streetlights.
"Leave her alone!" the creature hissed, its eyes alight with a crimson glow.
"Jesus X. Christmas! Not here too! I'm outa here!" Snake groaned as suddenly dropped the knife and ran out of the alley screaming "Monster!" in complete terror, leaving both Belynda disoriented and the Gargoyle standing there a bit puzzled. Belynda started looking about desperately seeking a weapon or an exit.
"Please don't run!" the shadowy apparition said in a gentle, feminine voice. "I mean you no harm." The creature then folded its wings about itself like a living cloak, interlocking the wing digits as a clasp. "Please do not fear me."
"Who or is it what, are you?" Belynda asked fearfully.
"That is not important. Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention?" it asked, concern deep in the creature's voice. "I can take you to the hospital if necessary."
"Not really, just shaken up. Really, I'm ok. I'm sure I will hurt worse tomorrow," Belynda replied, curiosity deepening. Suddenly, she cocked her head and her eyes narrowed as something clicked in her mind. "You were out on the beach."
"Yes I was. Had I not been, I doubt that you would be here talking to me now. The police have those three creeps in custody."
"OK, you have a point," Belynda conceded, "Thank you very much. I mean that." Suddenly, a strange expression crossed Belynda's face. She smiled. "You're a Gargoyle, aren't you? I remember reading about that clan of Gargoyles in Manhattan, but I didn't know there were Gargoyles in San Francisco."
"There are now." The Gargoyle sweetly replied with a smile.
* * *
The terminator, the boundary line between dusk and night slowly crossed Manhattan on its relentless westward journey as it has done for millennia. Cracks began to spread over the surface of the seven stone gargoyles perched high atop Castle Wyvern, white light escaping through the numerous cracks as the creatures within emerged from stone sleep in an eerie concert of screeching roars and the always impressive displays of their wings. Few humans these days ever saw the magic that occurred every evening at sunset. Elisa Maza was one of the few, and despite the fact she had been seeing this spectacle for years, she was always amazed and fascinated. Her fascination was deepest for the largest of the seven, the hulking but gentle giant, Goliath, the Gargoyle who held the key to her heart.
Broadway and Hudson descended from their parapets and entered the castle's interior in search of food. Angela came up and hugged her father and then bounded off to join Broadway and Hudson, Bronx following behind as usual. Elisa followed Goliath to where Lexington was perched and arrived just as he jumped down from the stone parapet, his face alive with eager excitement.
"Lexington," Goliath asked as he smiled at his technical wizard, "What were you trying to tell me last night?"
"We need to go to the lab. It's all on the computer." Lex said as he bounded off to the computer room on all fours. Goliath and Elisa followed the excited Gargoyle. By the time they arrived at the computer lab, Lex had already had the computers ready with data scrolling in one screen and a picture in the other. "I got some interesting news from San Francisco from the police nets last night. An Inspector Fujimori had asked for specific data regarding any cases involving crushed firearms."
"That sure sounds familiar," Elisa commented with a smile. Elisa remembered how Goliath crushed her first service weapon into scrap on their first encounter back in 1994. Goliath had a way of making impressive entrances, and in Elisa's case, even then she knew there was something special about the blue giant so aptly named. She also fondly remembered the hell she went through to get a replacement from Captain Chavez. One doesn't tell a police captain that a winged blue monster crushed their pistol and still expect to carry a badge. It was only the beginning of a parade of service weapons lost since she met Goliath. It had become such a regular occurrence that Captain Chavez joked that Elisa had become a member of the Gun of the Month Club.
"They also sent some pictures of some strange footprints at a crime scene. Three losers tried to rape a girl, and the SF cops found them beaten badly and tied up. Does this look familiar?" Lex proudly stated as he called up an image. Elisa and Goliath looked dumbfounded.
"That's a Gargoyle footprint!" Elisa exclaimed, "There are Gargoyles in San Francisco?"
"Could be Demona," Lexington commented, "San Francisco can well do without her."
"Unlikely that Demona would limit her damage to only three humans," Goliath commented as he folded his massive wings about his body, hooking the claws together.
"Goliath's right," Elisa remarked, "I can see her bombing Fisherman's Wharf or lasering up a crowded stadium, but not clobbering three rapists and neatly packaging them up for SFPD."
"Aye!" replied Hudson, as he licked a morsel off his claw, "That sounds more like something one of us would do. Goliath, the lass is right. I really don't think it was Demona. We may have a new clan on our hands."
"Or maybe just one Gargoyle," Elisa remarked. "Do you think we need to head over to San Francisco?"
"Do we dare not?" Lexington chimed in, concern deep in his voice, "What if they emerged from the same kind of spell like we did? They are going to need our help to adjust to this century! Don't we always help our kind, even if we are not the same clan?" Lexington's gaze then fell in his leader and then to Hudson.
"Aye lad, that we do," Hudson replied wistfully as he stroked his white beard, eyes reflecting deep thought, "T'would be good to meet more of our kind."
"Did I hear right?" interjected an excited Brooklyn as he was walking by, "There's Gargoyles in San Francisco?" Hudson nodded affirmatively as he polished off his Broadway concocted breakfast bagel, belching loudly.
"Now there was a breakfast!" Hudson remarked with a satisfied grin as he patted his now-filled belly.
"Lex is right," Goliath declared as he turned to his mate, "Elisa, I will need you in case we have problems with the police there. Brooklyn: you, Broadway and Bronx will remain here and guard the castle. Angela, Lex and I will head to San Francisco." Goliath then placed his hand on Hudson's shoulder, "Old friend, I will need you and most likely, so will they as well. Your wisdom will be missed if you remain here." The old Gargoyle nodded once in solemn understanding.
* * *
Detective Bluestone was happy to get back to his office. It wouldn't have hurt his feelings if he never set foot inside a courtroom again. Especially after trials like this one. The defense attorney had subjected him to a brutal cross-examination that lasted well over two hours. Damn lawyers must get paid by the word and by how much they can infuriate someone. Still, despite the furious defense, Bluestone's testimony was rock-solid. He was consistently a solid witness despite his flaky reputation. Chalk up another major felony conviction to Matt Bluestone! Stick that in your hat, Commissioner!
He then noticed that his daemon had detected Inspector Fujimori's query. As he scanned the text data, he waited as the picture downloaded. Before the picture of the footprint was halfway finished, Bluestone recognized it as a Gargoyle footprint. Gargoyles in San Francisco? He knew that all of Goliath's clan was still in New York. Hmmm. Could be Demona, but that doesn't make sense. Why on earth would she be out dealing with three lowlifes on a beach? Like Elisa, he quickly figured out that the beach incident wasn't Demona's style. The thought of a rapist taking a crack at Demona brought a smile to his face. Serve the idiot right. Anyone crazy enough to try to rape Demona would go from human to hamburger in about 4.7 seconds. Obviously a new Gargoyle, but from where? Bluestone smiled. He might get a trip to San Francisco out of this deal. A vacation away from this madhouse precinct would be nice.
* * *
Belynda's mind was in turmoil. Twice she nearly fell prey to violent crime, and both times this Gargoyle came to her rescue. Not that she wasn't grateful, but she wondered why this Gargoyle protecting her. As far as she remembered, the only place she heard that Gargoyles existed was in Manhattan. Was this one of Goliath's clan? Belynda stood in near amazement as she looked at her winged rescuer. The Gargoyle also noticed the expression on her face.
"Is something wrong?"
"This makes two times you saved me from danger. Why?" As Belynda continued to study the Gargoyle, she noticed there was something familiar about her.
"You are clan," was all the Gargoyle would say.
"Clan? Are you saying we are related? What is your name?" Belynda was more confused than ever.
"My name is not important now, I will answer your questions in due time," The Gargoyle replied, "But I think we need to get out of this alley and into a place that is safer for the both of us."
"I can agree to that. Where are we going?"
"First we need to get to the roof. Hang on to my back." Belynda wrapped her arms around the Gargoyle's body. She was amazed at the grace and power this creature used to climb a solid brick wall. Once they ascended to the roof, the Gargoyle instructed her how to hold on and to listen carefully for any instructions. Belynda heard a soft snap as the Gargoyle spread her wings to their full five-meter spread.
The Gargoyle then leapt off the rooftop and caught a thermal rising from the street. She soon ascended to an altitude that allowed her to glide well above most of San Francisco's high-rises. Belynda was in total amazement, as she had never seen San Francisco from this perspective. Even if she never saw this Gargoyle again, she would be forever grateful for this ride tonight. It was the closest thing Belynda could imagine to having wings herself. All the pain and hell her life had been in recent years now forgotten as she enjoyed this wonderful experience. Ten minutes later, Belynda and the Gargoyle landed on the roof of a building in the Financial District.
Belynda climbed down from the Gargoyle onto the roof of the building. She was still in a strange mental state consisting of both a state of shock and one of euphoria from the flight, she also felt tired and decided to sit down on a box-like structure on the rooftop. The Gargoyle smiled and folded her wings in cloak fashion. As Belynda's mental state began to return to something resembling normal, she began to study the Gargoyle in more detail. A shocked expression spread across Belynda's face.
"My God! Jaqui is that you?"
"Now to answer your questions, little sister." the Gargoyle replied with a smile. Jaqui related how she had drifted all over the country when their father booted her out. As she wandered, she showed up in New Orleans and met a strange woman who ran a curio shop of sorts that specialized in very unusual items and theatrical supplies. It was the kind of odd shop one often sees in cheesy television horror stories. The proprietor of the store was also a very odd and theatrical woman named Victoria. She always wore an elaborate catwoman costume with angel wings, and spoke with a heavy English accent. Her face was done so perfectly one could swear she was born a catwoman.
Jaqui later learned that Victoria was not what she appeared to be, nor what Jaqui thought she was. As she befriended the unusual woman, she eventually got hired by Victoria and worked in her store part time during the daylight hours. Though Victoria only appeared at the store at night, few people ever noticed anything odd about that. Most of the patrons of the store were pretty odd by the mainstream society's standards and most hung out at the coffee shop next door. During the slow times, Jaqui would pull out one of the hundreds of old books and texts there and read.
As she acquired knowledge, she began to realize that there was more to Victoria than her wild costume. She soon learned about Gargoyles, dragons and fey. She became fascinated with the whole subject of Gargoyles and their roles as protectors. As she learned more, the more she became infuriated with mankind for what they did to Gargoyles. Oddly enough, she could not bring herself to hate humanity, for she was human too. One night, she asked Victoria if she was a Gargoyle, and she nodded affirmatively.
"Jaqui my child," Victoria sighed, "My time here is almost done. I will soon enter the gateway and await my return later on. I have known for some time that you are part Gargoyle yourself, and now you have a choice to make. Your co-worker Daniel is one as well."
"That Prophecy story I read in one really old book you got from that oddball old Scot a few months ago."
"Correct, my dear." Victoria replied with a knowing smile, "Dairmid McKenzie and I go back quite a ways. What you don't know about Dairmid is that he was known by another name in the Eleventh Century. He is probably Scotland's best-known king save Robert the Bruce."
"The only other king of Scotland I have ever heard of was Macbeth," Jaqui replied with interest deepening.
"You are such a bright child," Victoria replied with a knowing smile, "In fact, Dairmid, or should I say Macbeth, is still alive today in New York. At one time, a Gargoyle that he named Demona served as one of his key advisers. Unfortunately, she betrayed him and as a result, her clan was destroyed. According to him, she is also still very much alive, cursed by the strange immortality spell that keeps Macbeth alive to this day."
"Do you think she is connected in any way with those Gargoyles I heard about in Manhattan?"
"Very much indeed, my child. According to Macbeth, she was once Goliath's mate, but they are not exactly sociable these days. Macbeth says Demona is suffering from some kind of dementia and she regards humanity as a threat to Gargoyle survival. I pray that you never cross paths with her, but should that unfortunate event occur, do not trust her, nor allow anyone else you know to."
"Demona must live an awfully lonely and tormented life."
"Sadly, she does," Victoria sighed with understanding, "As for you, I do not need the Dragon Stone that the Prophecy speaks of. I am fully capable of transforming you into a Gargoyle if you wish. Daniel has already agreed to be transformed, and he will continue to run my store. I do not see you doing something like that, for I know you miss your sister, and you are determined to find her. Although I would dearly love for you to stay here and work with Daniel, I understand if you do not wish to do so. A Gargoyle's drive and desire to protect their clan is strong and mostly instinct for the most part. It would be both foolish and futile for me to change what is our very essence. As for your sister, I have learned some things. I know is that she is in San Francisco, and one day you will meet again. Heed this warning! Once you allow me to cast the spell, there is no reversal. Your sister may not accept you."
"I do not think that will be a problem," Jaqui replied with a knowing smile. With that said, Victoria cast the spell and Jaqui emerged as a Gargoyle. Much to the surprise of Victoria, Jaqui emerged with the bat-style wings of the Scottish Gargoyle, and not feathered wings of the English variety. Four months later, she was gliding her way by light of Luna across the United States to San Francisco.
"Wow, that's some story!" Belynda replied with awe. Belynda stood up and approached her sister and wrapped her arms about her in a warm embrace. Jaqui responded with her own embrace, followed by wrapping her soft wings around Belynda. Tears soon began to flow as Belynda just held her and reveling in the loving embrace of her sister and the cozy warmth of her wings. Belynda then looked into her sister's eyes and saw her tears glinting in the moonlight. "First of all Jaqui, Gargoyle or not, you are still my sister and sisters stick together."
The two sisters began catching up on each other's lives, losing all track of time. A beeping noise came from Jaqui's wristwatch. "Sunrise is thirty minutes away. I need to get you off this rooftop and I need to get home." Belynda climbed on her sister's back and Jaqui leapt once gain into the sky. She dropped her sister off near City Hall and once again climbed up to a rooftop and launched herself into the night.
* * *
Lady Morvyn then taught Viper and Ariel how to wrap their wings about them in cloak form. She explained to them that even though that they would look a bit odd, San Francisco is probably the most tolerant city in the world as far as personal expression goes. You really had to do something totally outrageous to get noticed. There was little chance of being seen at 3:00AM, but if they did get spotted, not too many would say much about it.
Tombstone, Ariel, Viper, Cynthia and Lady Morvyn headed out of Viper's apartment and walked to an apartment building near the Financial District. This particular building was old enough to where five stone Gargoyles would not be out of place. Though the building had a security gate and electronic locks, getting to the roof was easy. Lady Morvyn explained how Gargoyles could climb up most anything to gain enough height to use their wings. Ariel was amazed that she could sink her talons into the solid brick wall with the ease of sticking a tack into corkboard. Viper and Ariel then carried the others up to the roof.
"Can you teach me how to use my wings?" Ariel asked with something of a bit of giddiness of a schoolgirl as she experimented with them as though a new toy.
"Not yet, my child," Lady Morvyn replied in a maternal way, "I need to have my ability to glide as well. Unlike you, I still remember the skills and experiences I had when I was a Gargoyle all those ages ago. None of you have. I need to train you before one of you hits a building at three hundred kilometers an hour.
"Listen to me," Lady Morvyn continued, "You will find your feelings will change when you are a Gargoyle. In the ancient past, Gargoyles formed clans for mutual protection. Usually this was instilled the moment a hatchling becomes old enough to teach. Much of it is instinct as well. A Gargoyle lives to protect. It is what our purpose is, and it is our instinct as well. It is as much a part of us as blood, bone, wing and claw. To be otherwise is to be corrupt and without purpose."
"I wonder what I will look like as a Gargoyle?" Tombstone mused.
"I don't even want to think about it," Cynthia shot back, "Although I do admit there is a kind of sexiness to it though. Viper and Ariel are still very pretty in their own unique way despite the Gargoyle bit."
Lady Morvyn was glancing toward the east when she saw the beginnings of dawn on the horizon. She then instructed Viper and Ariel to take a position and told them how to pose to appear as though they were originally part of the building structure as classic gargoyles. As she was instructing Cynthia and Tombstone about what was to happen, she glanced once again to the east and saw a shadow skate across the sky with a familiar grace and beauty she hadn't seen for centuries. Did I just see another Gargoyle?
"Now what do we do?" Inquired Cynthia, her voice deep with resentment.
"Tonight we rest. Tomorrow will be a busy day for all of us." Replied Lady Morvyn.
Lady Morvyn again glanced eastward and wondered about the gliding apparition she saw. That was the last though on her mind as the air was filled with the sounds of crackling. All five were now stone.