Spawn: Born Again

# 3

by Brian Campo (bcampo@hotmail.com)

This is a work of fan fiction. Spawn and all related characters are owned by Todd McFarlane Productions, and I do not contest that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr.McFarlane are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely.

Warning: This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't.

Promised Land

"I don't know who he is or what he is," said Cogliostro. "but I can tell you that Timothy Rice is no man of God." He sat at the chair by his desk looking disheveled and nerve wracked. He'd had a rough couple of days; being trapped in a magical mirror and thinking you're never going to escape isn't fun in anybody's book. A blanket had been thrown over the face of the mirror. Cog found it's black surface just a little too disturbing too look at right now. It would be a while before he could build up the courage to use that particular divining device again.
Al stood nearby, wrapped in his cloak and his own thoughts. "Then how could he do the things he does?" asked the Spawn. "He's got power, and plenty of it. I've seen it, felt it."
"Don't know." Cog replied." But when it comes to sources of power, this universe is in no short supply. I've met him before and I'm telling you he is evil."
"If he doesn't work for God then why would he claim that he does?"
"It's a brand name." said Cog. "It's one that sells."
"I don't understand." God a brand name?
"Look, it's like someone making fake rolex's and them selling them on the street. People buy them cause they believe that they are the real thing and the real thing is a sure thing, a tried and true thing. You can sell anything to people if you put the right name tag on it. You say, 'Hello, I work for Jesus.' and people say, 'Who do I make the check out to?' It doesn't mean that he's actually working for God, anymore than a little sweat shop in Taiwan making knock off Rolex's really works for Rolex. He's just reaping the benefits cause he's using a name that people trust."
It made a little sense to Spawn. He still didn't see what Rice could be getting out of the deal. "You said you've met him before. Where? When?"
"1822." said Cog. "I had run into a spot of trouble when a young angel had decided to earn her wings by tracking down old Cog and taking his head. I had to use just about every spell and enchantment I knew to keep her from doing just that. Our little scrap took us around the world and through several others before it finally ended. When it was over she was nothing but a pair of legs sticking out of a smoking crater and I was stuck in the middle of the California desert, low on power and without food or water."
I spent a week wandering west, hoping to find a settlement or civilization of some kind. It was horrible. The heat was cooking me alive and there was no where to hide from it. All I could do was just keep going and hope I would reach somewhere safe before I collapsed. Late afternoon of the eighth day I saw a large structure up ahead. 'Finally!' I thought. 'I'm saved!' The building was a spanish prison, built to house the worst criminals in the California territory. I must have been a sight as I stumbled up the guards at the gate, nearly blackened by the desert sun, so dehydrated that I was unable to speak. One of the guards gave me his canteen and I gulped at it. I vomited what I drank and drank some more. They took me inside and led me to the infirmary. It was cool in there and I passed out. It seemed I had only closed my eyes when someone was shaking me, trying to wake me. It took me a minute but I was able to collect myself enough to sit up. A priest had come to see me. He introduced himself as Antonio Vinbueno. He served as both priest and doctor at the prison. He was there to look me over and help if he could. He gave me a quick once over and then he opened my right to look into it. He saw something in my eye he didn't like. Somehow, he figured out what I was. One second he was a caring priest trying to help me, the next second he was looking at me like I was a rattlesnake. He took a step back and spit at me."
"I see you, devil!" he shouted at me. "Why have you come here?!"
I played stupid, acting like I didn't know what he was talking about. It enraged him. He pulled a worn out bible from his robes, held it above his head and charged at me, shrieking in rage. I was too weak to fend him off. He grabbed a handful of my hair and drug me off of the bed and onto the floor. He yanked and pulled me through the prison and to the gates, cursing me and rebuking me and calling me, "Seed of Satan." and all kinds of things. He threw me head first out through the gates and told me to leave. I couldn't get to my feet so he started kicking me and dragging me by my hair again. "Be gone." he yelled at me, "You are not welcome here." I pulled myself together and got away from him. As I stumbled away through the desert night I heard him screaming back there, telling me that if I ever returned he would bind and burn me."
Two days later I made it into a little town and was able to recover. I never went back to that place. I suppose I probably could have handled that priest when I was in better condition, but something about him scared me. He had these eyes, something about them. . . Anyway, years later I hear that something strange had happened at that prison. The supply wagons went out there one day and they found everyone dead. Guards, prisoners, all of them were dead. Suicide. They all hung themselves. Only one person was missing. That priest. It was one of those things that no one could ever figure out. Some said the desert had gotten to them, or maybe they had some sickness. I knew the truth, though. It was that priest. He had done it, somehow. Made them do it."
"The priest was Rice?" asked Al.
"Yes." said Cog. "And that's not all. Remember back in the early eighties there was this cult up in Minnesota that had themselves a mass suicide? They all went out to a lake in the middle of winter, stripped naked and lay down on the ice and froze to death. When they press got a hold of it they went nuts. It was on every news channel. The leader of this cult was missing and the police were looking for him. They showed his picture and I swear it was him. He had a beard and glasses and longer hair, but it was him. And that's him out there with your friends right now. I think he's going to try to do it again, Al. If we let him he'll kill them all."
"How could he convince all those people to do that? People aren't that stupid. You can't just tell them to kill themselves and they do it."
"It happens." said Cog. "It's happened many, many times. Sure, if you walk up to someone on the street and say, 'Kill yourself.' they will tell you where to shove it. But you come to them using a name they trust, like Jesus, show them some slight of hand and they'll kill their children for you. Besides, it's a lot easier to do things you'd never do if you see a lot of other people doing it too. Mob mentality is one of the greatest powers on earth. People want to be lead, they want to be told what to do. If they do as they are told then their actions are someone else's responsibility. How many times have you heard the words, 'I was just following orders.'?"
Those words stung Al. He knew he'd said them several times in his life, trying to excuse something horrible he had done. He turned away from Cog so the old man couldn't see the pain on his face. "You think it was him that pushed you into the mirror?" he asked, trying to move the conversation in a different direction.
"Yes." said Cog. "I believe he considered me a threat. He must have seen me and recognized me. He realized that I could tell the others who and what he was. So, he tried to remove me from the equation."
"Then why not try to remove me, too?"
"Apparently because he didn't consider you to be a threat."
Spawn turned and glared at him. "What?!"
"Look at yourself. Young, impulsive, inclined to make bonehead moves. It would take him only a few minutes of watching you before he got your number. He figures, sure, the boy's got power, but he doesn't have the common sense to know how to use it. It was easier to just let you go. Let you throw your little tantrums, try your back alleys tactics and all the while he'll turn the people that believe in you against you. How well has he been doing?"
Spawn said nothing, which confirmed Cog's suspicions.
"He's playing you, Al, and unless you get your act together he's going to win. Let me tell you a little secret. The purest and strongest power in the universe is faith. If people believe in you and what you stand for then you will have all the strength you will ever need. Right now, Timothy Rice has those people's faith. He's shown them some tricks, he's put food in their bellies, and he's healed their wounds. He's helped them while you sat around doing nothing for years. For the first time in years someone is helping them. And they believe in him with every fiber of their being."
"You're saying that because he has their faith I can't beat him?"
"I'm not saying that you can't. I'm saying that it won't be easy." said Cog. "They had faith in you once, you know. You protected them. They believed in you and while you didn't realize it, it made you stronger. All those hundreds of people believing in you, trying to be near you, it made you nearly invincible. You conquered anyone who came looking for you. But you started withdrawing, started letting bad things happen to the good people that believed in you. They started looking for somewhere else to put their faith. You've gotten weaker. You've had some scraps with enemies lately where you didn't fare so well. Tim Rice came along and gave those people just what they needed. He took their faith from you. But you can have their faith back, if you want it. Give them a reason to believe in you. Show them what you stand for."
"You don't understand." said Spawn. " I've tried to stop him. He took that bible and swatted me away like I was a fly. What hope do I have against a man who can redirect the path of a bullet in mid-flight?"
"You're going to have to find a way. Think. Find his weakness. Where does he get his power? Can he be cut off from it? You can't beat this one just with your fists, Al. You're going to have to be calm and calculating."
Spawn thought about what Cog had told him, and wondered how much truth there was to it. He thought of the Curse being able to cut him to pieces, the way John Sansker had beat on him so badly. Was there really some way that the bums faith effected his strength and powers? It was just too strange to be true, but then again, he was a dead man who had been resurrected to be a hell powered zombie wearing a sentient super hero costume. Strange things do happen.
"I don't know." he told Cog. "I need time to think. Time to sort this all out." He started towards the door.
"Time is something we don't have a lot of, Al. I don't know how much longer it will be before Rice starts asking those people for sacrifice. When that time comes I'm afraid they're going to be willing to give it to him."

Belly full of coffee and doughnuts, Bobby huddled with his fellow bums and listened to Reverend Rice as he spoke. It was the seventh day that Rice had come to the alleys to preach and he was fast becoming a regular fixture in these parts. Everything had been peaceful since the woman had been shot and healed three days before. No one was sure what had happened that day or who had done the shooting, but the trouble seemed to have stopped. Maybe Rice was right, maybe because people had their minds on God and off of sinful things the Lord was protecting them.
Rice was bringing them food every day now. Every day it seemed like there was more to eat. The first day it had only been the chicken dinner during the middle of the day but as the days went by the meals had become more frequent. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, Rice just seemed to pull them out of nowhere. Bobby hadn't eaten this much and this often in years. He was feeling so good that he was even laying off of the bottle.
Bobby hadn't seen Al at all over the last few days. He seemed to have disappeared from the alleys all together. He had wondered more than a few times over the last few days if Al had something to do with that shooting, but told him self that it was crazy talk. Al had never hurt any of the bums and he would never shoot a defenseless woman. Still, it was strange that he seemed to have disappeared right after it happened. . .
Rice was talking about the wonders of heaven. He had sat down his bag of doughnuts and pot of coffee so that he could move around a little more while he preached. Bobby had to hand it to him. He knew how to preach. He knew how to move a crowd and get it fired up about God. He didn't use big words, he talked in a way that they could understand. And he was so convincing. He made it seem like it would be silly not to love God.
"Didn't the Lord tell you that he has prepared a place for you?" Rice was saying. "Do you believe that he wants you to live this way? "
"No!" shouted the crowd. Bobby chimed in. They had become more used to Rice's style of religion and knew that when he asked a question he expected an answer."
"He doesn't want you to be cold all the time! He doesn't want you sleeping out in the rain!. He is your Father in heaven! What kind of Father would he be if that was what he wanted? He is a loving Father. He wants you to be warm. He wants you to be clothed. He wants you to sleep in a bed at night and eat at a table in the morning. Do you believe that?"
"Yes!" replied the people in the crowd.
"You were sick." said Rice. "You had all sorts of ailments. What did your loving Father do?"
"He healed us." some bums said.
"That's right. He sent me here and used me to heal you. He took away that pain. He took away that sickness, those maladies. He made you well. You were hungry. Did your Father turn his back on you. Did he let you starve?"
"Oh, no." said the people. "Praise the Lord."
"That's right. He provides food for you. He gives you sustenance. He knows you can't praise him when you have a gnawing in your belly. You have been through a trial over these last few years and the end of that trial is coming. The Lord has seen you persevere and he has tested you some more. He's seen you keep loving him when times were at their worst. He's preparing a place for you and soon your going to be ready to go there. Do you want to go there?"
"Oh, yes!" replied the crowd. "We're ready!"
"I don't know." said Rice. "I don't think you are. It takes faith to go to that place. You have to be ready, or you will be turned aside at the gate. It's Love that will open those gates. Love of the Lord. You are his children and he wants you to come home, but only when you are ready. And do you know how you'll know when you're ready?"
The crowd was quiet, hanging on his every word.
"You'll be ready when you are ready to be shown the way. That's why I am here, to show you the way to him. I can lead you to him, but you have to ask yourself, are you ready to be lead to him? You're so headstrong, so stubborn, always wanting God and the world to work your way. It's time for you to let go of that and let God show you his way. Can I get an Amen?"
"Amen." said the bums, in almost perfect unison.
"Do you think you're ready?"
"Yes!"
"That's not good enough. You have to KNOW you're ready. If you aren't sure, then you're not ready. So are you ready?"
"We're ready!"
"Are you sure you're ready?"
"We're ready, Praise God, We're ready."
"Show me."
They all sat staring at him, unsure of what he meant.
"I'll show you." he said. "All you have to do is follow me. So, I want you to standup, and follow me. The Promised Land is that way." He pointed east.
Some of the bums looked skeptical. Bobby felt more than a little skeptical.
"I thought you said you were ready?!" shouted Rice. "You're sitting here and you're thinking, 'This is New York. How can the Kingdom of God be right over there?' You're questioning. You're not acting on faith! Did he not feed you? Did he not heal you? Now he wants to put a roof over your head and care for you but you are sitting there questioning him! Get up! Get up! Believe. You'll see! Believe!"
The people were getting to their feet. Some were hesitant at first but when they saw their friends getting up too they felt more confident.
"Praise God." said Rice, a smile on his face. "I do believe you are ready. Just follow me." He started east, and the massive crowd of bums followed him. They were five hundred strong. They hurried to keep up with Rice who was moving forward at a brisk eager pace. They wanted to stay near him.
Bobby moved along at the back of the crowd, wondering where they were going. A loud clank made him look up and he caught a flash of red as something moved overhead from one rooftop to another.
"Al?" he called out. There was no reply.
"What are you waiting for, Bobby?" yelled one of the bums ahead of him. "C'mon! Let's go!"
Bobby looked up for a few seconds more and then jogged to catch up with the others.

At the front of the throng Timothy Rice smiled and encouraged the people behind him to keep up. They were heading out of the alleys now, over onto the busier streets. He didn't stop for traffic. He just held out his hands to each side and walked right into the street. He was pleased to see the crowd do the same. The traffic on the street came to a screeching halt as drivers sat with mouths agape at the crowd of bums passing in front of them. This happened over and over as they headed east, bringing the whole section of the town to a standstill. People were staring out the windows of their apartments at this parade of filthy homeless people marching en mass. The bums ignored them and followed after Timothy Rice.
The buildings around them were turning into factories and warehouses now. They were getting close to the river. Was he going to baptize them? some of the bums asked. Cause that river water was filthy. You could catch diseases in it. Others told them to be quiet and just follow Timothy. He knew what he was doing. Some sang hymns and others joined them. Let us all gather at the river, the beautiful, the beautiful river, let us all gather at the river that flows from the throne of God!
Rice grinned and joined in with the song. His voice would have worked well on an easy listening radio station. Finally, they came to the banks of the river. Timothy stopped and the crowd began to fill in the area around him.
"What now?" people were asking.
"The Kingdom of God is over there." he said as he pointed across the river.
"Should we swim?"
"Find boats?"
"Will he send a boat?"
"How do we get across?"
"We'll walk across." Rice told them. He walked down to the very edge of the water and raised his bible above his head. "Dear Lord," he began to pray. "These people are coming home to you. They've been tested and found true and they are ready to claim their heavenly reward. If it is your will, and you find them to be ready, help us to cross this river." Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and thrust his bible out over the water. The hair on the head of every person in the crowd stood on end. Their flesh tingled with the power emanating from Timothy Rice.
"Yes, Lord!" he shouted. "Yes!"
A line ripped straight across the top of the river directly in front of Rice. The ground beneath their feet began to rumble. The natural order of things was being manipulated. The river to Timothy's left simply stopped flowing while all the water to his right quickly drained away to dry land. It was like something right out of a Hollywood epic, a honest to God, Cecil B Demille miracle.
He didn't hesitate for a moment, he stepped right out onto the wet muck of the river bed and started across. Some of the bums hemmed and hawed for a moment, worried about their shoes, but figured, what the heck? God will give them new shoes. They raced out onto the mud, trying to catch up with Rice. They stared at the wall of water to their left, amazed. It was growing taller by the second as millions of tons of water were being held back. If they ever had a reason to doubt God, it was gone now. They believed in him whole heartedly.
They were passing over garbage and wrecked cars and even some blocks of cement with leg bones protruding from them. Everything that had ever been tossed into the river was revealed. They made their way around the obstacles and kept moving, hurrying to get across the mile of riverbed to the other side. This was it. Their lives were finally changing for the better. Once they got to the other side, they would be in the Kingdom of heaven. They thought of love ones they might be leaving behind and thought, oh, well. They'll have to find their own way.
In the distance sirens were wailing. The police were coming to see just what the hell was wrong with the river. A helicopter appeared on the horizon and headed their way.
Halfway across Timothy stopped. He turned to his crowd of followers and smiled. "You've passed the test." he said. "You put your faith in me and followed me into the river. I'm so proud of you." He waved his bible at them. "He's so proud of you. Now tell me, do you love your God?"
"We love him." said the crowd.
"You can't doubt him now, can you? Look around, look at the miracle I've shown you. I want to hear you say that you believe in him."
"We believe in him!" They were weeping with joy and adulation.
"He wants to hear you say it like you mean it. He wants to hear you say, "I believe in you!"
"I believe in you!" they shouted, near hysteria.
"Again." Rice waved his bible around like a madman. "Make the ground shake with your voices!"
"I believe in you!" People had their hands in the air. A few were dancing around in the mud, tears streaming from their eyes.
"Do you believe that I can take you to the Promised Land?" Rice's feet began to lift off of the ground. People gasped and praised the Lord as they watched him begin to levitate.
"Oh, yes, Lord!"
"Do you believe in me? Do you believe in my power?" He was rising above their heads now. He held his hands up and out the side as if he was pulling the last notes out of an orchestra.
"Yes, Lord, Yes." they said, sounding like they were in the throes of passion.
"I said, do you believe in me?!" He was rising above the wall of water now.
"Yes, yes, yes! We believe in you!" They were worked up into a frenzy.
Rice stopped moving all of a sudden and smiled. "Then you're mine."
He dropped his hands and looked upward. The wall of water began to fall. A few of the bums were still aware enough to realize what what happening. They began to scream, shrieking in fear. Others took notice. Panic swept the crowd. They turned to run back to the river bank, but there was no way, no where near enough time. In an instant they would be crushed by a million tons of water. Five hundred souls would be gone in a flash. They prayed to God but wondered what good it would do. Isn't this what he wanted?
Green light exploded past them, temporarily blinding them. Stunned, they blinked away the spots in their vision and saw that the water had stopped falling. It had been turned to ice. What? What had happened? Were they saved? Who had saved them? They looked toward the river bank and saw someone standing there. A figure in black wearing a gigantic red cloak. The cape flapped and snapped as it waved around him, moving like a living thing. For many, this was the first time they had ever seen him, for others it was the first time they had seen him in the light of day. He was awe inspiring, terrifying, but at this moment in time the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. He had come to save them.

"You've got to take him out." said Cog. "Now."
Spawn turned to see the old man standing a little ways behind him. He hadn't even heard him walk up "How?"
"Carefully." said Cog. "First, I'd try to separate him from that bible. It may be some kind of medium for him."
Spawn nodded and dove off of the river bank His big boots sent mud splattering in all directions when he hit the ground. He got his footing and sprinted out toward the bums in the middle of the river.
"Go!" he shouted as he passed the first ones. "Run for your lives."
They ran.
Rice looked miffed. "I should have known you would be trouble." he shouted down as Spawn ran up below him.
"Come on down." said Spawn. "We can talk about it." His chains snapped out and wrapped around a rusty hulk that used to be a refrigerator. They snatched it up out of the mud as if it weighed nothing and heaved it through the air towards Rice. The old appliance struck the levitating Rice and knocked him out of the air. He came down hard, slamming into the muck with an audible SMACK! Spawn's cape poured like a liquid in Rice's direction and wrapped around the bible in his hands. It yanked it from his clutches and tossed it into the air. His chains sprouted barbs, grabbed the bible out of the air and ripped it apart.
Something fell out of the torn cover of the book, something very un-book like. It looked like a worm or centipede, but barbed and dangerous looking. It landed in the mud and began to shriek and writh, as if in pain. It was about three inches in diameter and about a foot and half long. How it fit into that little bible cover, Al had no idea.
He was staring at it, dumb-founded when Rice landed on his back and secured him in a headlock. He was incredibly strong; Al felt like his head was being ripped from his shoulders. He reached up and raked his claws down Rice's face, pulling off strips of skin. Rice roared in his ear, an inhuman, pain filled sound. The costume jumped into the fray, latching onto Rice and trying to pull him free of it's host. Kicking and scratching, Rice was pulled off and thrown away. He hit the ground and came back up fighting. Where the skin had been ripped away from his face another kind of skin could be seen. Wrinkled, scaled, reptilian skin. Could he be a demon? wondered Al. He had no time to ponder the question as Rice was on him again. He was sporting claws at his fingertips now and embedded them in Spawn's throat. Spawn threw his fists into his opponent, letting the barbs on his gloves tear into Rice's gut. It only seemed to make Rice more angry. He pulled out Al's throat and shoved it into his face. Spawn hit him hard in the face, knocking Rice head over heels. He hacked green, glowing blood out of the hole in his throat and closed in on Rice.
A loud bellow ( not unlike a donkey with a hot potato shoved up it's ass ) stopped Al in his tracks. He sensed something right behind him. Something big. He turned to see the book-worm-thing towering over him. It had grown. It was now about three feet in diameter and about 36 feet long. It's mouth was lined with appendages with hooks on the end that were clenching and unclenching. They looked like that were beckoning him into it's mouth. That mouth looked large enough to swallow him whole. It lunged down and tried to do just that. He was grabbed into it's maw and yanked violently up into the air. He could feel the symbiote trying to defend him but if had been caught off guard just as he was. The cape sealed itself around the head of the monster, trying to seal off it's air supply. The chains wrapped around it's neck and tightened, sinking their barbs into it's flesh. The worm bit down, trying to bite Al in half He slashed, punched, and bit, trying to get free. Acids were rising up out the thing's belly and burning his flesh. He gritted his teeth and fought harder.
The worm did a face plant, slamming the lower half of his body into the ground. He felt things down there snap. He used precious hell power to heal it. It did it again, breaking the bones in different places. He couldn't afford to keep using his hell power like this. He would have to use it on the creature itself. He reached deep down into his mind, touched the energy waiting there and channeled it outward. Green light exploded from his fingers and tore into the monstrous worm. The head that was holding onto him disintegrated. and he was let loose to fall free. He hit the ground and the headless corpse of the worm landed next to him with a wet thud.
Gasping for breath, he got to his feet. Rice was no where to be seen. Obviously he had used the opportunity the worm provided him to make a run for it. Al looked to the riverbank and saw that the bums had reached the safety of the shore. Just in time, too, it would seem. Al could see cracks forming and spreading like spider webs across the ice holding back the river. He limped towards the riverbank as quickly as he could. The going was slow. His bones were broken and it would take precious seconds to heal them. The ice wall began to crumble. He had to do something, and quick. What the hell? he thought. How much power had he already used today? What would a little more matter? As the water crashed down on him he closed his eyes and disappeared in a flash of green fire and the stench of brimstone.

Cog found Al lying on his back at the base of the pile of garbage that made up his throne. When he had teleported out of the way of the rushing river he had held the picture of the throne in his mind and hoped that he would be deposited there. It had worked. Too hurt to move, he just lay where he landed and tried to recover. As the old man approached, the symbiote began to twitch, like a disturbed cat will twitch it's tail. It sensed that it's host was injured and wasn't letting anybody get too close to him. Cog kept his distance, seeing no reason to upset the creature.
"You did good." said Cog. Compliments didn't come often from that old man so Al took it to heart.
"What was that thing?" he asked, his voice a pained groan.
"A Chrellian Tapeworm. They grow in the small intestines of very powerful devils. They feed off of the shit of a demon for a few thousand years, all the while absorbing it's powers. They in turn become very powerful. There not very intelligent but the can be used to channel power and work spells. It's probably what Rice was using to perform all his miracles. It's funny. All those people thinking they had witnessed the wonders of God and they were looking at parlor tricks powered by a worm born and raised in devil shit."
"What about Rice? Did that little bastard get away?"
"Yes." said Cog. "On the other side of the river. He is hurting, though. He's just a low level demon with not much power of his own. Without the worm he won't be able to perform his miracles and dazzle people into giving him their souls. He'll probably have to trade all the souls he has if he wants to get a new one."
"I wish I had gotten him."
"You did enough for today. You stopped a devil from stealing souls and saved your friends from being murdered. And most importantly, you have their faith back. They believe in you again.
So, relax, Al. You can get Rice another day, if we see him again. For the time being, rest up. You never know who might show up tomorrow." The old man walked out of the dead end alley, leaving the Hellspawn to lick his wounds.



Well that was the last issue of my three issue Spawn miniseries. I hope you liked it. If you have any comments, complaints, critiques, or cursewords, send them my way by e-mailing me at this addy bcampo@hotmail.com I'm a big boy and can handle it if you have problems with a story. I only ask if that you tell me I suck, you tell me why I suck. Tell me what's wrong with the writing. I may not agree with you, but I will listen to you. Thanks for reading..