TALES OF THE DEMON by Dien Alcyone
Hullo! This is my DC Comics fanfic, written for DC Anthology, which can be found at: http://danthology.cjb.net/ Due to hints from friends and readers, I am diversifying in the places where it's featured at... hence, this! I hope you enjoy.
Summary: Etrigan/Jason Blood fanfiction, in an 'issue' format.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: The Demon and certain characters in these pages are owned by DC Comics. I'm just playing.
TALES OF THE DEMON #4 ~ "A Night to Remember, Part One: A Girl's Best Friends"
by Dien
Story notes: Well, don't I feel stupid. I made poor Drew give me Mr. Freeze, then found out there's nothing in the comics to support his propensity for stealing diamonds... Screw it. I'm using the Victor Fries from the unspeakable movie--he wants diamonds!
And I apologize for having two Atlantean stones in the same story; it wasn't intentional. I just somehow ended up with both being from Atlantis. The Source alone knows why... It's simple, though: the SAPPHIRE is the Fatestone, the DIAMOND'S just some powerful relic thingy.
For the Harry fans, I apologize. He's not in this issue. Patience.
There will be a real fight scene next issue, I promise.
The evening was cold and fine, Gotham's dirty skies clearing enough to let the light of the stars through--even if the minds of the mortals below were on other lights than celestial ones.
Headlights of limousines and taxicabs, reflecting on asphalt still wet from afternoon rain. Lights gleamed off of the sequined dresses of women. Strobes and floodlights lit up the front of Gotham City's Museum of Natural History, and the beautiful people milled about in a glow of their own as they waited for the doors to be opened.
Unable to compete with the modern exhibits in Gotham's newer museums and galleries, the somewhat outdated and stodgy Natural History had been, a year earlier, on the brink of shutting its doors. Five of the city's wealthiest sons, among them Bruce Wayne, had come to the rescue with donations totaling $6 million dollars, and the museum had spent most of the last year closed for repairs and renovations. Tonight, however, was the Event: the much-anticipated re-opening of the doors. An exhibition of the world's most famous diamonds was to be the focus of the evening, and Gotham's most famous had responded in kind. The sidewalk in front of the building was packed, with more people arriving every moment.
Jason Blood sighed as he glanced at the crowd between him and the door. He would have liked to have been able to examine the Atlantean stone before the exhibition began, but now getting in was practically impossible. He'd just have to wait like everyone else.
"Blood! Jason Blood! My God, man, haven't seen you in Gotham in ages!" A hand was pulling aggressively at his shoulder, the voice accompanied by cigar smoke. Jason exhaled deeply, put on the smile he reserved for society functions, and turned to face the speaker.
The shorter, stouter man facing him with a trophy supermodel on his arm was one of those thankfully few but obnoxious people who is intentionally irritating all the time--the ones who laugh too loudly and long and always presume more familiarity than they should, largely because they can get away with it. Jason searched his memory for a name to link with the smug face and pale blue eyes.
"Good evening, Mr. Haight," he said with little warmth behind his greeting.
"Ah, come on, Jason. Call me Charlie. You're too serious, you know that? You know what they say, all work and no play...
"Speaking of which, I've got a nice little bit of land upstate. Some of the boys--Krol, Drexel, Jackson--and I are going to head up for a little pheasant shooting. You interested in coming?"
"Thank you, but no. I'm afraid I've got plans that weekend," Jason said curtly.
"But--I didn't say which... Uh, anyways, whaddaya think about this National History thing, huh? I hear Wayne isn't even going to be here--off in California or something. He sent that fellow of his, Fox."
Blood pointedly looked elsewhere in the crowd, but the banker was either exceptionally dense or exceptionally tenacious. He kept talking.
"Not that it matters so much on something like this, of course... but he even has the man take his place on Chamber of Commerce meetings and things. I mean, really, Fox is good enough for one of... them, I suppose, but... well, you know, a man just isn't comfortable with their kind. You know."
Not only is he stupid, but he's a bigot as well, Jason thought to himself in annoyance. Gotham, behold your best and brightest. He amused himself with mental images of Etrigan ripping the banker to pieces.
"Charlie, it's cold out here," whined the blond model. "How soon can we go inside?"
"Will you be quiet? Can't you see I'm talking to somebody here, Mindy?"
"It's Cindy."
"Whatever. Jason--"
"You'd like me to meet your companion for the evening? But of course," Jason said smoothly, turning to the girl, who was at least three inches taller than Charles Haight. "Cindy, is it? Charmed." She simpered perfectly as he politely bowed. Nonchalantly, Jason turned back to Haight. "By the way, how is Mrs. Haight? And the children. Twelve and eight, aren't they?"
Haight's face and bulldog neck flushed red. "Uh... they're fine. Hey, look, I just saw someone over there I needed to talk to about--"
"Oh, don't apologize. I wouldn't dream of keeping you from more important conversations. Enjoy your evening. Wonderful meeting you, Cindy."
Haight and his companion disappeared into the crowd, the banker visibly disgruntled. Blood smiled. Half the men here had women not their wives accompanying them, of course; the unspoken rule was not to bring it up. Hopefully, Haight would leave him alone for the rest of the evening.
The occultist returned to skimming the crowd, placing faces with names and facts. Another car pulled up to the curb, this time a shiny, familiar Bugatti. Jason watched as Goon Number One opened the door for the passenger to exit, wondering if it was who he thought it was.
Angelina Capella emerged with her dress and lips the color of wine, drawing glances and discussion from the crowd as the society people wondered who the newcomer was. Jason was oblivious to the gossip as he shouldered his way through the crowd to reach her.
Her dark eyes were scanning the crowd, the familiar amused smile playing on her lips, when she saw him and did a double take.
"Signore Jason," she said warmly, giving him a genuine smile as he came near. (Behind her, Francisco and Emilio sulked.)
"Angelina. You are... you look... divina," he said helplessly, unable to keep his usual impassive expression. This time, he ignored the guards' glares and kissed her proffered hand.
"Why, thank you, Jason," she replied with a tilt of her head and very faint blush that made her seem suddenly younger than she was.
"I came expecting only diamonds and find something infinitely more breathtaking," he murmured. Angelina blushed even more, but rolled her eyes.
"You are Italian, mi amico. How else to account for such honeyed words?"
"I'm actually English by heritage. We're not supposed to be very romantic. I suppose you just bring out the worst in me," he said lightly. "Would you permit to be your escort for the evening, signorina Angelina Capella?"
Emilio stepped forward, Francisco almost on his heels. "She already has an escort, signore," Emilio said through gritted teeth and a smile that was blatantly insincere.
Angelina laughed softly. "Emilio, darling, you sound so protective. Don't worry so much. Signore Blood isn't going to hurt me. Are you, Jason?"
"I wouldn't dream of it."
"You see? And he knows all these people here, so he can be my guide and introduce me to everyone. It is perfect. You two just relax and enjoy yourselves. Go charm some of the American girls off their feet."
Francisco and Emilio shared a look with each other. Emilio nodded, then said heavily, "As you wish, dona..." The two then sent a look towards Blood that said very clearly what their wishes in the matter were, and that most of those wishes involved broken bones. Jason smiled brightly at them.
Behind the four figures standing there, the crowd suddenly buzzed with noise. The doors were being opened.
"Shall we?" Blood asked theatrically, holding out his arm to Angelina
"We shall," she answered, slipping her hand through his arm. With the rest of the crowd, they made their way into the Museum.
Angelina struggled to keep a straight face as they passed through the doors. Poor Emilio. Her guards were charming, of course, and perfectly loyal to her, but there were times they went over the top. And their expressions... she'd have to make sure she didn't leave Jason alone with them during the course of the evening.
Now isn't this a happy coincidence? she wondered to herself. Had part of her desire to attend this evening been out of the hope she might run into him? Capella considered the possibility for an instant, then lightly dismissed it. She did not practice self-analyzation on herself, as a rule.
Though she had to admit her reactions were decidedly out of character. She was a woman used to praise and flattery, even to accepting them as her due. Yet she had blushed like a schoolgirl at one chaste kiss and a compliment. What was coming over her? Was it possible that she was starting to like signore Blood? Ridiculoso, she scoffed to herself. She'd only met him twice.
Her musings were diverted as they passed a uniformed security guard in deep conversation with a slim, small dark-haired man who looked important and competent in his crisp tuxedo.
"Don't worry, Mr. Dipsas, sir," the guard was saying. "We've got just about the best security set up here you can get without calling in a SWAT team."
"This is Gotham City, Mr. Hanley," the slender man was saying. His voice was dry and precise, and Angelina shivered unexpectedly at the sound of it. "A town renowned for the large number of maniacs it contains... many who would face much worse than a SWAT team for the chance to obtain some of the wealth here tonight. Did Commissioner Gordon ever get back to you on our request for back-up?"
"GCPD called back telling us, and I quote, 'Anyone fool enough to hold a diamond display in Gotham City can provide their own damn back-up,' " the guard said apologetically, and then Jason and Angelina were out of ear-shot as they moved further into the building with the press of people.
"Jason," Angelina whispered to her companion. "Earn your keep as my escort. Who was that man... a Mr. Dipsas?"
"Dipsas?" For a second, her companion seemed privately amused, then said, "He's the current curator for the Museum. He owns one of the diamonds here tonight, so he's understandably concerned about the security, for more reasons than just his job."
"Oh." Angelina considered, then shivered again, remembering the way the man held his head and moved, something about his dark eyes and his movements that unnerved her. "Is he... did he... there's something strange about him."
Again she caught a faint amused smile on his face for a moment, but all he said was, "He has a reputation for being one of the shrewdest men in Gotham. He made a fortune several times over working for Fortune 500 companies as a negotiator... supposedly he's hell to face across the bargaining table. Then, suddenly, he dropped out of the high-finance world to come run the GMNH... for whatever his reasons.
"He's ruthless and cold-blooded in business dealings, but not really that bad to talk to. I can introduce you later, if you'd like."
Capella made a face. "Thank you, but no. I know quite enough ruthless men as it is." He laughed, and everything was back to normal, the curious director forgotten.
The evening progressed in an enjoyable whirl. They and the rest of Gotham's finest were ushered into the Museum's atrium, with its new all-glass ceiling. Everybody obligingly oohed and aahed over the new look, including the dark-blue velvet hangings that lined all the walls.
The room was filled with tables and chairs, some crisply dressed caterers standing by the back wall. People sat and waited for the inevitable speeches.
Former Gotham Mayor Krol spoke a few words and gave a toast to the five Gothamites who had helped fund the rescue of the Museum. Lucius Fox, here representing Bruce Wayne, then took the podium to speak.
Blood and Capella listened politely to the speeches, though Angelina privately thought her companion looked bored out of his mind. She sipped the champagne that had been at all the tables and looked around for Emilio and Francisco. They were standing on the back wall, Gianni having joined them after parking the car. All three were looking daggers at Jason's back. She sighed with a rueful smile, and turned her attention back to the front.
"...and so, it is my sincere privilege to welcome you all to Gotham's new and improved Museum of National History. It is even more my privilege to introduce this night's opening display of... 'Diamonds: The Eternal Gems!'" finished Lucius Fox. It was the signal for the assistants around the room to pull the cords. The velvet curtains pulled away to reveal the room to be much bigger than supposed before, the extra space now occupied with the diamond exhibitions.
The crowd of Gotham's rich and privileged burst into applause. Now free to look around, they rose from their seats and began to stroll in little cliques around the room.
Angelina smiled and stood, gesturing Jason to get up. "Come on, let's go look," she said excitedly.
"Women and their desire for jewels, where does it end?" he asked the ceiling in mock hopelessness. She laughed and dragged him by the arm towards the nearest case.
The diamonds were exquisite, of course; some of the world's finest from both private and public collections were here on loan. Capella was enraptured.
"Oh, amico, look at this one," she breathed in delight, tugging at his sleeve. When he didn't respond, she looked up to see him scanning the crowd. "Regina coeli! What is wrong with you, Jason? Here we are, faced with the world's most magnificent treasures, and you don't even look at them. Shameful."
He smiled in apology. "Sorry. I'm looking for one in particular I was told would be here. I think it's over there on the west side. If you're still looking at these, do you mind if I...?"
Angelina rolled her dark eyes. "You could at least have flattered me again by telling me you were looking at me instead of the diamonds or something. Go, unromantic Englishman, go."
Jason arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "I can see you're the high-maintenance type... I'll have to come up with some more compliments later. "
"Corpus de Cristo. Go before I hit you," she hissed in mock anger. He laughed, and made his way across the floor to the other side of the room. Angelina shook her head at the man, then returned her attention to the next diamond in the line.
While not as big or as spectacularly cut as some of the others, it was certainly unique, as it was tinted with a dark red hue that made it seem almost to burn. She instantly thought of a stone soaked in blood, and shivered deliciously at the thought. The placard next to the gem read 'The Ersatz Ruby' and said it had been discovered in Greece. "Magnifico," she murmured to herself.
"It is, isn't it?" said an emotionless voice close by her, and she started involuntarily. Capella was not used to people sneaking up on her. She turned to face the speaker and found herself staring into the thin, saturnine countenance and dark reptilian eyes of Nicolas Dipsas.
Angelina almost started back again, but was conscious of the unblinking eyes on her and regained her composure. "Mister Dipsas, yes?" she asked, attempting the English again after talking in Italian with Blood all evening. "You must forgive my speaking. I am not fully fluent in the English."
"Quite all right, signorina," he said in that same dry voice, slipping into Italian. "I happen to know your language, so we may speak in that if you prefer."
"You are too kind. May I compliment you on the arrangements for the evening? The gallery is beautiful," she said, smiling brilliantly and turning the charm on at full volume. It hadn't failed her yet.
Dipsas, however, seemed unmoved. "It is nothing. Save your compliments until the evening is over and nothing has gone wrong."
She forced bright laughter she did not feel. "You sound so pessimistic, signore!"
He shrugged noncommittally. "There's a lot that can go wrong. Calculated risks. Acceptable odds, but not favorable. You were examining the Ersatz Ruby?"
"Ahh, yes," she murmured, still not at ease with man's demeanor. "It... is very beautiful! Is the red tint natural, or--"
"Completely. It is a very old diamond, and has also been known as the Drop of Blood, or the Eye of the Serpent. Do you know much about serpents, signorina?"
"Oh no. Not really.. no," she said awkwardly.
"Pity. The Eye of the Serpent is my humble contribution to the night's display... I have a small collection, though this is by far my finest piece."
She tried the smile again. "Well, it is spectacular, maestro. I--"
Their conversation was interrupted by a woman's horrified scream. They and everyone else turned startled eyes towards the sound, to see many men with ski caps over their heads and guns in their hands. One was holding his weapon to the forehead of a businessman who had had the misfortune to be standing near the door. As everyone gasped, even more masked men poured into the atrium through the three entrances, handling their guns with the assurance of men who knew what they were doing. A few of the rich citizens began to scream and headed for doors, only to find whichever way they turned was cut off.
From behind one of the groups of criminals, a tall figure emerged. The Gothamites gasped again, for no one in that city could have failed to recognize Mr. Freeze, one of the Batman's many foes. Imposing in his unique body armor, he stared around the room in silence.
Angelina's three guards instantly looked across the room to her for guidance, but she shook her head, mutely answering their question. All three were armed, of course, but they would be of little use against the thirty or more armed men that now filled the building. Her look plainly said not to attract any more attention than necessary.
After staring at them until they subsided, Capella looked around for Jason, scanning among the diamond cases but seeing only the frightened faces of wealthy Gothamites--with one exception. Mr. Dipsas, next to her, had the closest thing to an expression she had seen on his face all night--and it was one of profound annoyance.
Stepping forward, he said in a deadly quiet voice, "What is the meaning of this intrusion, gentlemen?"
Freeze's icy stare fixed on the slight man, a faint sardonic smile on his face. "'The meaning,' of course, is to acquire for myself some of these treasures that have been hoarded selfishly until now, as I have a much greater usage in mind for them. Also, my assistants have a desire to personally enrich themselves by removing the citizenry here of some of their valuables... though if we encounter no resistance, they will be allowed to leave with that most precious of valuables, their lives."
"Take the diamonds?" Dipsas echoed angrily. "You cannot."
Victor Fries frowned. The little man he was facing was dense... Mutely, he held out a hand to one of his henchmen, who gave him a gun. Freeze lifted it and pointed it at the single piece of glass that made up the ceiling.
"Oh no," muttered Dipsas.
The trigger was pulled, the bullet fired; the stunning roof shattered spectacularly. The people beneath screamed again as the million shards fell down upon them. Those lucky enough to be out of the center of the hall hugged the walls closer. Those still in the center dived under the tables.
"Calculated risks...." Dipsas sighed sadly. Freeze turned and pointed the muzzle of the gun at him. "That, sir, is what happens to people who get in my way.... not unlike your woefully few guards outside."
"We heard no sounds of conflict," Dipsas said unhappily. Freeze looked bored and said, "They're called silencers. Perhaps you've heard of them.
"Now, enough with the chitchat. Your guests will now start taking off anything expensive they're wearing.... while you can put the diamonds in a bag for us." Freeze took a velvet sack from one of his thugs and tossed it at the director. "Get to work... or we start shooting into the crowd."
Nicolas Dipsas distastefully eyed the sack at his feet for a long moment, then looked at Freeze and said flatly, "You will regret this." The director then picked up the bag and turned to the first of the cases, digging in his pocket for the keys. Mutely, the crowd moved where Freeze's henchmen told them to, and started taking off jewelry.
Angelina tried to keep her face impassive as she too removed her valuables. Though disgruntled at the loss, she took off her ruby earrings and the emerald ring on her left hand. One of the ski-cap-masked men watched her critically as she did so, then held out his gloved hand for the jewelry. She sighed and gave them to him.
As she was about to move on, he reached out with the muzzle of the gun and stopped her. "I don't think so, baby," his voice growled from under the mask. "You've still got a necklace on."
Her hand flew instinctively to the silver chain and crucifix around her neck, so long worn she didn't even think of it as jewelry anymore.
"This is... this was a gift," she said in a low, tense voice, struggling with the English. "I will not give it up."
It seemed like he was grinning, under the mask. "You'll give up whatever we tell you to, sweetheart. Comprende? Yeah," he went on, his eye-slits moving down her body, "anything... we tell you." The hand holding the jewels moved up to cup her chin. "You'd make a great hostage for when we make our escape, baby."
"Get your hands off me," she hissed, her martial training running through her mind alongside images of his covered head hitting cement. Hard.
"Benson?" came Freeze's voice. "Is there a problem over there? You're holding up the line of rich citizens eager to hand over their valuables."
Benson's eyes, small and beady behind the holes in the mask, glared at her, then at his boss. Angelina could sense the beginnings of tension here, and could only hope the conflict played out in her favor.
And then the demon arrived, and everything went to hell.
The Atlantean diamond had been there as he expected. Blood had been considering using a small bit of sorcery to unlock the case and look at it further, but decided the risks weren't worth it. He could always ask Nicolas to let him examine it later.
He had been ready to head back over to Angelina's side when he had one of his occasional flashes of precognizance, a side effect of the long-ago bonding between him and the Demon. An image of armed men bursting in through the doors had filled his mind for a second.
When it passed, Jason had quickly made his way to one of the small corridors that branched off from the main room. While there was no exit from this hallway, if it became necessary to cast a spell he at least had a semi-hidden vantage point.
He reached the hallway not a moment too soon. The woman's scream filled the air, and he watched mutely as the scene unfolded, wincing slightly at the curator's stubbornness. He had known the man for a number of years, but admitted Dipsas could go over the top. Blood winced again as the expensive ceiling was destroyed in an explosion of glass.
This wasn't going well. Blood weighed the merits of getting involved. The situation was not the type he generally interfered in... a robbery with no supernatural motivation or villain was something the police or Batman could handle.
But on the other hand, Mr. Freeze would take the Atlantean relic. Not good. Of course, he could probably find some way to contact this Freeze person on the black market and purchase it--money wasn't an issue.
But then again, what if someone... not Freeze... but someone aware of the real potential of the gem got to him first and bought it? Then there could be a problem.
He shifted mentally back and forth for a few moments, his eyes scanning the crowd as he searched for some answer to his inner dilemma. It jumped out at him loud and clear, as he saw the thug take Angelina's jewelry, then touch her face.
How dare that piece of Gotham gutter trash lay a finger on her. Blue eyes glaring in anger, he whispered the words.
"Gone, gone the form of man
"And rise the demon Etrigan...!"
And it began again. The transformation, the painful shredding as his body was sent across dimensions into Hell... as Etrigan took his place here on earth. Smoke emanated from the small rifts in reality where the change took place, and when it cleared, the Demon stood there.
Etrigan grinned, razor teeth glinting like the glass shards strewn across the room, and leapt to the attack. The man Benson was first to go. Etrigan grasped the wrist of the hand touching Capella and, as easily as one breaks a toothpick, snapped it in two. The man howled, then shut up abruptly as he was backhanded across the room with enough force to break his neck.
"What the hell is that...?" Freeze whispered, even as his men shouted and drew their guns. Etrigan took a long look at them and laughed as they opened fire on him.
"Men of crime, a man of cold
"He steals the gems, and they steal gold
"But now a new thief here is lured
"Her name is Death. Her touch is sure.
"They wield their toys of flash and fire
"But achieve naught, save my ire
"'Tis not, this night, their first mistake--
"No.... that was angering the snake.
"But his fangs he yet conceals
"So I shall be the one who deals
"The card of fate, the dreadful hand
"Of justice and of reprimand."
Etrigan ignored the bullets that bounced off him as he moved towards Mr. Freeze and his henchmen, the ordinary citizens crawling under tables and rushing for the door as they wondered why it couldn't have just been Batman, for God's sake?
Angelina's guards had been on the other side of the room until now and had followed her orders not to attract attention, but they now took advantage of the chaos to rush to her side. She was staring, fascinated, at the form of Etrigan, only briefly looking up as they approached.
"Look, mi amicos. Behold our quarry!" she breathed, the rapt and predatory look on her face reminding her guards that she was not considered the finest hunter of the Order of Jesuits for nothing.
The men looked at the demon casually shrugging off close-range gunfire, and shared apprehensive glances with each other. Gianni reached reluctantly inside his tuxedo for his gun as Francisco asked slowly, "Do you... ah... want us to attack him now, dona?"
Capella did not seem to hear as she watched the fight, entranced. Finally she said, "What? Oh... no. Not now. We do not have the right weapons here. But this is a good chance to see how our prey fights and moves."
The three relaxed. They were not going to have to fight the thing, at least not right now, and lose as badly as the men who were currently doing so....
ELSEWHERE (Boy, do I love that word!)
Zauriel stared at the stars overhead, reading the messages they sent to each other in spectrums human eyes could not detect, and heaved a faint sigh. He never really regretted giving up his heavenly position and coming to Earth, but there were times when he was more homesick than at others.
He was sitting on a ledge of the roof of Gotham's downtown Clock Tower, one hand idly fingering the Fatestone. After the earlier, unhappy conversation with the demonologist, he had not left the city, but simply flown around for a few hours, trying to quiet his thoughts.
There was so much evil here. It hurt him, made him sick to see the sort of things people did to each other and to themselves. He was becoming used to facing Evil on a cosmic scale in his adventures with the League, but just seeing ordinary people capable of such monstrosity...
Humanity, what a mess of contradictions you are, the angel mused sadly. So full of the potential to be incredible... so often choosing the downward path instead.
Why? Why is there such hate and greed and anger in their souls, that makes them lash out at one another and--
The thought never completed itself, as a strange and unnatural darkness reached out to cover him suddenly. His consciousness wavered for a second, surprise briefly registering on his features, then the struggle to stay awake was simply too great... his thoughts descended into shadows and oblivion.
...
Drifting... a faint roaring noise in his ears... louder and louder...
Zauriel's eyes flickered open to see the streets of Gotham rushing up terribly fast to meet him. The roaring noise was the wind, moving past his ears--the cold bite of it had revived him just in time. Instantly, he spread his wings to stop his headlong fall, catching an updraft only mere feet from the asphalt street below.
Shaken by the close call, he landed on the rooftop of a nearby building and tried to figure out what in the name of the Presence had just happened. He had been... on the Tower... and then attacked. Somehow, by something magical. It had made him fall asleep and, unconscious, he had fallen from the ledge. What was going on?
Deeper and more real at the moment than the mystery was the realization that now pervaded every fiber of his being. As he had woken to the shock of falling, as he had seen the hard streets approaching rapidly, an entirely new sensation had gripped him.
Fear. The remembrance of it was terrifying even in retrospect--the unreasoning panic that had flooded his limbs and turned them to stone, the fright that had gripped his mind in a vise. The coppery tang of it in his mouth was still fresh. Fear, I know you now. In the Name of the Presence... how do the mortals stand it?
He looked in wonder at his trembling hands. This too was new. He held them up where he could see them better. And it was then that he realized they were empty.
The Fatestone was gone.
THE NEXT-ISSUE-BOX-THAT-ORDERED-ANCHOVIES-ON-ITS-PIZZA: Hey, I think I'm finally getting into the hang of this. Anyway, next issue will have Mr. Freeze vs Etrigan... and Harry for all of ya who missed him this time... and maybe more stuff about Angelina, now that we kind of know why she's here. So, who mugged the angel? Who's Nicolas Dipsas? Are Jason and Angelina ever gonna K-I-S-S? Answers soon. Maybe.