The night sky blanketed the city with a spectacular canopy that vied with
the New York skyline for prominence. Below the quiet lights, the town's
night life was stirring into motion. Not everyone, however, was in for a
gala evening.
"Whoa, Ray, we're not going to a fire, just a little poltergeist activity. No biggie," Peter said, snatching for his seatbelt. He whooped as Ray took a particularly sharp turn on two wheels, flinging him into Egon's lap. "Ooof! Really, Egon, we've gotta stop meeting like this."
"Peter," Egon chided sternly.
"Just trying to lighten the mood." Peter sat back up, taking a firm hold on the armrest while Egon rechecked his PKE meter for the dozenth time that night. In the front seat, Winston and Ray chatted about the new tune up they had just given Ecto, unaware of a sinister blue mist hovering about their feet.
"... and when I advanced the timing again, she began to purr like a kitten," Ray finished, patting the dash.
"An-throp-o-mor-phism," Peter pronounced, leaning forward in his seat. "The word is anthropomorphism."
Winston twisted to shoot the psychologist a dirty look. "Man, if you're analyzing my love life again, I do not want to hear it. The last time you did that, Tamika ended up thinking I had a social disease." Peter laughed.
The ever curious -- and far more innocent minded -- Ray asked, "What's an- anthro--"
"Anthropomorphism," Peter repeated. "It means that you're treating this old bucket of bolts like it was your best friend. It's just a car for cryin' out loud." A sudden spurt of acceleration sent him flying back into his seat. "Hey!"
At that moment, Egon's ever-present PKE meter emitted a loud squawk nearly causing him to drop the device. He adjusted a knob and studied the glowing face intently. "Ray, pull over. Quickly," he ordered. "Something's in the car with us!" There was no response.
"Yo, Ray? Winston? Oh, gu-eys, Egon thinks we're in big trouble, so it's a reeeal good idea to pull over right now." There was no more response to Peter's sing-song plea than there was to Egon's flat command. Peter sat forward, his face softening into a worried frown, and touched Ray on the shoulder. "Ray?"
"Yesss, Peter?"
Venkman jumped back in his seat at the sight of Ray's face. The normally amiable features were twisted, convoluted into an expression of utter malice. His soft brown eyes were neither, rather they glowed with an unearthly blue fire. A glance in Winston's direction revealed him to be in the same condition.
"Make the boys comfortable, Ronnie," Ray said in a strange, haunting voice. "We've got a long ride ahead of us."
"No problem," Winston answered in a similar tone. He turned to face the two terrified Ghostbusters with an evil grin. "What do we do now, Egon?" Peter quavered. The physicist considered. "I say we jump for it." "I say you're right!" Peter yelled, lunging for the handle.
"And I say you stay right where you are," Winston said, pointing towards the rear seatbelts. The belts gained immediate life, and began to twine themselves serpent-like, around the two Ghostbusters.
"Okay, Winston, nice trick," Peter acknowledged, tugging at his bonds. "Now you wanna let us go before I get real mad?" He tried on his most dangerous glare for effect, of which there was exactly none.
"Peter, threatening a possessed person does little to help the situation," Egon pointed out calmly.
The psychologist shrugged. "I figured it couldn't hurt." With that, Winston gestured again and the hanging hand straps stretched out, wrapping themselves around the captive men's mouths, making perfect gags.
Ecto-I sped on its way out of Manhattan, past smaller cities and into the rural towns. Along the way, Peter and Egon had stopped fighting against their bonds and fallen asleep, not from exhaustion, but from sheer boredom. Listening to the rambling of their possessed partners about 'the good old days' was enough to put anyone to sleep. Finally, Ecto stopped with a jolt that woke the two prisoners.
"Everybody out, end of the line -- and we do mean end of the line," Ray joked, as he and Winston pulled proton packs from the wagon and strapped them on. Drawing the particle throwers, they gestured in unison and the car doors whipped open, spilling Peter and Egon out onto the ground.
"This isn't my idea of a simple poltergeist job," Venkman complained as he got to his feet. Ray shoved the thrower in his back and herded them inside a decrepit Victorian house at the head of the driveway.
"You don't need a PKE meter to tell you this place is hot," Egon remarked, as the front door swung open on its own.
"For once, I agree with you, Egon," Peter answered, as they stepped into the dusty entry hall. The place was abuzz with spirit activity; every kind of spook and spud moved about freely in an atmosphere so charged, one could see clearly despite the gloom. Many gathered in small clusters, pointing and whispering as the Ghostbusters climbed the creaking staircase and crossed the balcony that overlooked the doorway far below. The four entered a large room filled with windows, now broken and cracked from time and neglect. At the far end, a tall, cloaked figure stood with his back to the Ghostbusters. "We have arrived as you commanded," Winston's hollow voice announced.
The cloak fluttered lightly in a non-existent breeze. "Well done. Leave those miserable mortal frames and lock those three below stairs. I would speak with Dr. Spengler alone." The creature's voice was chill -- the door to an open grave.
Immediately obedient, Winston and Ray grabbed Peter's arms, dragging him from the room. "Great going, Egon," he shouted. "You get an audience with the Prince of Wails here, and I get locked up with the Boo Brothers! Will you two let go of me or I'll...." With that, the door shut behind them, leaving Egon alone with their host. The voice again filled the room.
"At last, we meet," it hissed. "You, above all mortals, I despise -- you and your nauseating friends. It was you who discovered my brother's weakness to the light, and again who found the key to destroy his fortress."
"Oh, no, it can't possibly be...." Egon moaned weakly, now realizing who stood before him. The figure turned to face him and he couldn't restrain a shudder. "Lordaine!"
Lordaine the Harvester, brother of Samhaine the spirit of Halloween who now resided permanently in the containment unit. Here stood Samhaine's brother, the Dark Lord, Leader of Legions, and Samhaine's only hope of escape.
Lordaine was a frightening sight, from his thigh-high boots to his large brimmed pilgrim-style hat he was the very embodiment of all that was unholy. The face was that of a demented scarecrow with vengeance on its mind. Egon had reason to feel sick.
"You have nothing to say?" The spectral entity chuckled, moving closer. "That I cannot believe of you. The brilliant Egon Spengler must have some comment for me?"
Spengler drew himself stiffly erect. "If you think you can scare me into releasing Samhaine," he stated with hardly a tremor in his voice, "think again. I won't do it, no matter what you do."
"I don't want you to," Lordaine said, raising both fists heavenward. "I want to tear that prison apart with my own hands!" He glared into Egon's tight face. "You are here to die, Spengler -- all of you. You Ghostbusters, miserable creatures of flesh - you dare think you can stop the flow of events; that you can stop fate? We are ancient gods, human, and we will take back this world we once ruled. No more will we retreat into the shadows of the past. The world will be ours..." One leather- gloved hand touched Egon's face gently. " ...and your tormented souls shall be mine."
With that, Lordaine began to grow, towering over Egon as every inch the ancient god he claimed to be. The tattered cloak whipped about as the ethereal breeze became a cyclone, spinning ever faster. As badly as he wanted to run, Egon found himself held fast by that irresistible tempest, and still Lordaine continued to grow until there was naught but the engulfing folds of his dark cloak. He felt the gloved hands of the phantom pressing tightly against the sides of his head, his long blond hair stinging his eyes as the wind blew it about. Strange words from a language long forgotten filled the room, stabbing deep inside his being. Egon knew a spell was being cast -- felt it to the very core of his soul -- and also knew that there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Finally, a burst of fetid wind and a cloud of smoke sent Spengler tumbling to the floor, his mind a mess of scattered thoughts. "You don't "look well, Dr. Spengler, not well at all," a familiar voice gloated from above.
"Huh?" Egon groaned as he gazed upwards to find a vision of... himself. "What kind of madness...?"
"Not madness -- reality." The doppelganger ran one long-fingered hand through its disordered locks, combing them into their normally coiffured style. "In this form I can move among my prey freely, exacting my revenge slowly and at my will." He laughed, honest amusement lighting the angular features. "I can just imagine the look on Venkman's face when he's blown to bits by one of his 'best" friends! And Stantz...." Lordaine licked his lips. "Or should I say Ray? I shall introduce him to the myriad delights by which my people have worshipped me for millennia."
A sickening dread forced Egon's head up. "But that was...."
"Yes." The Egon-thing laughed again in delight. "The time of the harvest was also a time of renewal. The pleasures of the body were but one sacrifice offered to the Lord of the Harvest."
Egon's stomach contracted in horror for his two comrades. Peter -- whose hard-won trust had been betrayed so often in his past -- was to be betrayed yet again by one he loved. A harsher fate Egon couldn't imagine for his friend for, even should Venkman survive the attack -- an unlikely possibility in any event -- he would never again offer his trust to another human soul. A life of loneliness and suspicion forever.
And Ray.... Egon groaned aloud at the thought. Ray's boyish innocence was almost a catchword to the other three. Even the admittedly unfrivolous Spengler had off-times had to shake his head at the thought of a man passing his thirtieth birthday without losing any of his childish delight in life, having remained so untouched as yet by the cruelties of society. Spengler and the others had always protected their friend, preserving his spirit as the one spark of purity in an otherwise mad world. The violation Lordaine suggested would destroy that touch innocence -- and the man along with it.
"I see you understand," the Dark Lord approved, peering deep into Egon's agonized face. "You always were quick ... for a human."
"Winston...."
"The soldier?" Lordaine's image wavered slightly, but a few muttered incantations restored the illusion. "Seeing his friends destroyed in such a manner as I plan should be more than enough to reawaken the old terrors he lived through in your ... Vi-et Nam." Lordaine pronounced the words as though he was unfamiliar with them. "I'm sorry to have missed that particular event. It sounds as if it was a most ... interesting occurrence."
"No, you can't do this." Egon sighed heavily as he tried to pull himself off the floor. He fell back with a pained gasp.
Lordaine stooped down next to the fallen scientist. "A strong spell, isn't it? I've spent two years looking for it, but I need one more thing to seal it." His features wavered again and that was when Egon noticed the one detail lacking in the disguise.
Lordaine reached out, plucking Egon's glasses from the bridge of his nose and perching them on his own. A quick slap of ectoplasmic energy danced on the round red frames, sealing the spell. The Dark Lord was now every inch as real as Egon, but far more dangerous.
Lordaine rose. "You are too weak to walk or to call out for help, so I leave you in this room of shattered glass. Fitting, don't you think, for a man of shattered dreams?" He strode to the door. "Good night. Dr. Spengler. And ... have a nice day."
***
"If you two don't vacate my buddies' bods, I'm gonna have to do something drastic. What, I don't know, but it'll be drastic." Peter threatened and struggled as he was shoved into a small, dirty storage room. Winston and Ray stood outside for a moment, consulting with some low, guttural words. Then they removed their proton packs and entered the room themselves, locking the heavy door behind them. Peter backed up against the far wall, watching in awe as two distinctly different forms emerged from Ray and Winston. The forms hovered menacingly above the room, then zipped out the door. Winston and Ray staggered, and Peter jumped to their sides, catching each by one arm before they would have fallen. Carefully, he lowered his two friends to the floor.
"Gosh, my head feels weird," Ray moaned, pulling his knees up and resting his face on them.
"Yeah. I feel like I've been listening to Egon explain relativity again," Winston added. "Where are we, anyway?"
"We've taken a little detour," Peter answered, matter of factly. "Seems you two had some company. Couple of guys named Ronnie and Marv decided they wanted to go joy riding in Ecto for old times sake."
Winston stared at the psychologist in patent disbelief. "You ain't sayin' we were possessed?"
"Yup."
"Ronnie and.... Aren't those the two guys from that article Egon found?" Ray asked, raising his head and looking around. "And where is Egon? Is he all right?" Peter stared at the floor, deliberately not meeting his eyes, and Ray struggled to his feet in sudden panic. "Oh, my gosh, he's not...?" The sudden movement drained all the blood from his face and only Peter's arm slung instantly around his waist prevented him from slamming face first into the concrete floor.
"Easy does it, pal," Peter admonished, bracing the younger man. "Take a deep breath. Good."
Ray found his feet and pulled away with a wan grin. "Good thing I lost all that weight," he joked weakly, "or we would've both been in trouble."
Peter returned the smile. "Maybe not both," he corrected firmly. "You okay, Winston?"
Zeddemore groaned. "Man, I ain't felt like this since my old Army unit mixed it up with those Marines in Hong Kong." He fixed Peter with a straight look. "And you didn't answer Ray's question; where is Egon?"
Peter indulged in one of his trademarked I-haven't-the-foggiest shrugs, but he couldn't keep the worry from his voice. "You two escorted us upstairs and left him there with some big creep," he explained, offering Winston a hand up. "Then you brought us here and played another game of 'musical bodies' with Ronnie and Marv."
"We've got to get out of here. No telling what's happened to poor Egon by now," Winston said, peering out the door's barred window. "He ... holy cats!" The others crowded around to see what appeared to be Egon to the rescue. The physicist aimed his particle thrower, sending the two ghosts fleeing for their lives with a stream of accelerated protons.
"Stand back," the blond ordered. The others had barely an Instant to obey before he blew the door off its hinges.
"You got away from the big, bad ghoul," Peter cheered, clearing the melted remains of the door with a bound. "Good goin', Egon. Let's find our packs and clean house." Ray and Winston were only a step behind; Winston picked up the remaining proton pack and strapped it on as Spengler checked the corridor.
"That's a good idea," Egon said over his shoulder. "We'd better split up. Peter, you come with me; Ray and Winston can back-track down the hallway."
"Sounds good. Let's do it," Peter agreed, following Egon to the stairs. He favored the remaining two with a cheery 'Toodlele-Ooo' waggle of his fingers. "Remember, kids, no fair hogging all the fun. If you see anything, give us a holier, okay?" His words were light, the glitter in his green eyes was not.
When they had disappeared, Winston turned to Ray and noted uneasily, "I don't like it, Ray. Egon's never been that gung-ho to take charge. He's always let Peter take the lead."
"You don't think they did something to Egon?!" Ray gasped, wide-eyed and appalled. The thought of anything happening to the seemingly invincible Spengler was almost inconceivable to the youngest Ghostbuster.
"I don't know, man." Winston rubbed his face reflectively. "I just feel like there's something not quite right here."
Ray's open face hardened with determination. "I'm going to go warn Peter," he announced. He exchanged a look with Zeddemore, and his expression wavered. "Are you going to be all right?"
"I'll be fine." Winston slapped his colleague on the shoulder, then whipped out his proton rifle in one smooth, unhurried gesture. "You're the one who's unarmed. Remember that."
Stantz smiled again, a flash of white teeth in the murky gloom. "I will. Be careful." And he was gone, his boots making slapping noises on the stone steps.
Zeddemore threw a switch arming the accelerator, and offered the night a wolfish smile. "Odds are even now, suckers," he growled softly. "Time for us to rock and roll."
He found a back stairway that led up to the second floor landing. There was no sign of ghostly activity at all save for the faintly glowing walls -something which made him more uneasy than the reverse would have. Passing a door further down the hallway, he backed up when he heard a strange whining from within. Bracing himself, he burst through the door ready for action, only to find, to his astonishment, "Slimer! What are you doing here? Did you hide in the muffler again?" The little green ghost, covered with tell-tale soot, nodded nervously.
"What is it, Slimer? What's wrong? You're shaking like a leaf." Winston grimaced as Slimer bugged him tightly, then casually wiped the residual slime away on his sleeve. "Eeegonnn, Eeegonnn, baaad spell, Winnnstonnn!" Slimer wailed.
"But we just saw Egon; Peter's with him," Winston explained, as Slimer tugged impatiently at his arm.
"No! Not Eeegon -- Lordaine!"
Zeddemore regarded him puzzledly. "Who the heck is Lordaine?"
"The brother of ... Samhaine."
The last was not spoken in Slimer's reedy falsetto. Winston looked up to find Egon standing in a doorway, clinging to the frame. Without another word, the physicist collapsed to the floor.
"Egon!" Winston rushed over and knelt beside his friend. "Egon, what's going on? Are you all right?
Spengler struggled to sit up, only to fall back against Winston's arm. "Got to stop him, Winston. It's a trap," he managed breathlessly. "Lordaine ... he wants to destroy us ... set Samhaine free ... rule the world."
"So that's not you -- it's Samhaine's brother ..." Zeddemore's eyes widened in horrified revelation, "... and he's got Peter! We've got to stop him!"
"Can't do it -- not enough proton when he's in that form," Egon said, stopping the black man with a gesture. "He's too near human like that. We've got to break the spell ... catch him ... off guard ... my glasses...." With that, Egon passed out.
"What does he mean, Slimer?" Winston asked, more confused than ever. He lowered the physicist to the floor then remained kneeling, deep in thought. Slimer floated about the room a couple of times, keening softly to himself.
"That's it!" Winston's sudden shout start led the little ghost into popping through the nearest wall. He reemerged immediately with a shame-faced smile. "Lordaine has Egon's glasses; he must be using them as some sort of spell binder. We've gotta get them back, little guy. It's the only way to save Egon. We need him; he knows more about this Lordaine character than all of us put together, including Ray." He regarded the friendly specter earnestly. "I'm gong to need your help, Slimer. Think you can do it?"
Slimer's big orange eyes shifted from Egon's still figure on the floor to Winston's solemn features. Summoning up all the courage he could, he put on his best grin and said in his high-pitched voice, "You got it, Winnnston. We'll busttt him, but goood!" He flew off leaving a very worried Winston to watch over Egon.
***
"Whoa, Ray, we're not going to a fire, just a little poltergeist activity. No biggie," Peter said, snatching for his seatbelt. He whooped as Ray took a particularly sharp turn on two wheels, flinging him into Egon's lap. "Ooof! Really, Egon, we've gotta stop meeting like this."
"Peter," Egon chided sternly.
"Just trying to lighten the mood." Peter sat back up, taking a firm hold on the armrest while Egon rechecked his PKE meter for the dozenth time that night. In the front seat, Winston and Ray chatted about the new tune up they had just given Ecto, unaware of a sinister blue mist hovering about their feet.
"... and when I advanced the timing again, she began to purr like a kitten," Ray finished, patting the dash.
"An-throp-o-mor-phism," Peter pronounced, leaning forward in his seat. "The word is anthropomorphism."
Winston twisted to shoot the psychologist a dirty look. "Man, if you're analyzing my love life again, I do not want to hear it. The last time you did that, Tamika ended up thinking I had a social disease." Peter laughed.
The ever curious -- and far more innocent minded -- Ray asked, "What's an- anthro--"
"Anthropomorphism," Peter repeated. "It means that you're treating this old bucket of bolts like it was your best friend. It's just a car for cryin' out loud." A sudden spurt of acceleration sent him flying back into his seat. "Hey!"
At that moment, Egon's ever-present PKE meter emitted a loud squawk nearly causing him to drop the device. He adjusted a knob and studied the glowing face intently. "Ray, pull over. Quickly," he ordered. "Something's in the car with us!" There was no response.
"Yo, Ray? Winston? Oh, gu-eys, Egon thinks we're in big trouble, so it's a reeeal good idea to pull over right now." There was no more response to Peter's sing-song plea than there was to Egon's flat command. Peter sat forward, his face softening into a worried frown, and touched Ray on the shoulder. "Ray?"
"Yesss, Peter?"
Venkman jumped back in his seat at the sight of Ray's face. The normally amiable features were twisted, convoluted into an expression of utter malice. His soft brown eyes were neither, rather they glowed with an unearthly blue fire. A glance in Winston's direction revealed him to be in the same condition.
"Make the boys comfortable, Ronnie," Ray said in a strange, haunting voice. "We've got a long ride ahead of us."
"No problem," Winston answered in a similar tone. He turned to face the two terrified Ghostbusters with an evil grin. "What do we do now, Egon?" Peter quavered. The physicist considered. "I say we jump for it." "I say you're right!" Peter yelled, lunging for the handle.
"And I say you stay right where you are," Winston said, pointing towards the rear seatbelts. The belts gained immediate life, and began to twine themselves serpent-like, around the two Ghostbusters.
"Okay, Winston, nice trick," Peter acknowledged, tugging at his bonds. "Now you wanna let us go before I get real mad?" He tried on his most dangerous glare for effect, of which there was exactly none.
"Peter, threatening a possessed person does little to help the situation," Egon pointed out calmly.
The psychologist shrugged. "I figured it couldn't hurt." With that, Winston gestured again and the hanging hand straps stretched out, wrapping themselves around the captive men's mouths, making perfect gags.
Ecto-I sped on its way out of Manhattan, past smaller cities and into the rural towns. Along the way, Peter and Egon had stopped fighting against their bonds and fallen asleep, not from exhaustion, but from sheer boredom. Listening to the rambling of their possessed partners about 'the good old days' was enough to put anyone to sleep. Finally, Ecto stopped with a jolt that woke the two prisoners.
"Everybody out, end of the line -- and we do mean end of the line," Ray joked, as he and Winston pulled proton packs from the wagon and strapped them on. Drawing the particle throwers, they gestured in unison and the car doors whipped open, spilling Peter and Egon out onto the ground.
"This isn't my idea of a simple poltergeist job," Venkman complained as he got to his feet. Ray shoved the thrower in his back and herded them inside a decrepit Victorian house at the head of the driveway.
"You don't need a PKE meter to tell you this place is hot," Egon remarked, as the front door swung open on its own.
"For once, I agree with you, Egon," Peter answered, as they stepped into the dusty entry hall. The place was abuzz with spirit activity; every kind of spook and spud moved about freely in an atmosphere so charged, one could see clearly despite the gloom. Many gathered in small clusters, pointing and whispering as the Ghostbusters climbed the creaking staircase and crossed the balcony that overlooked the doorway far below. The four entered a large room filled with windows, now broken and cracked from time and neglect. At the far end, a tall, cloaked figure stood with his back to the Ghostbusters. "We have arrived as you commanded," Winston's hollow voice announced.
The cloak fluttered lightly in a non-existent breeze. "Well done. Leave those miserable mortal frames and lock those three below stairs. I would speak with Dr. Spengler alone." The creature's voice was chill -- the door to an open grave.
Immediately obedient, Winston and Ray grabbed Peter's arms, dragging him from the room. "Great going, Egon," he shouted. "You get an audience with the Prince of Wails here, and I get locked up with the Boo Brothers! Will you two let go of me or I'll...." With that, the door shut behind them, leaving Egon alone with their host. The voice again filled the room.
"At last, we meet," it hissed. "You, above all mortals, I despise -- you and your nauseating friends. It was you who discovered my brother's weakness to the light, and again who found the key to destroy his fortress."
"Oh, no, it can't possibly be...." Egon moaned weakly, now realizing who stood before him. The figure turned to face him and he couldn't restrain a shudder. "Lordaine!"
Lordaine the Harvester, brother of Samhaine the spirit of Halloween who now resided permanently in the containment unit. Here stood Samhaine's brother, the Dark Lord, Leader of Legions, and Samhaine's only hope of escape.
Lordaine was a frightening sight, from his thigh-high boots to his large brimmed pilgrim-style hat he was the very embodiment of all that was unholy. The face was that of a demented scarecrow with vengeance on its mind. Egon had reason to feel sick.
"You have nothing to say?" The spectral entity chuckled, moving closer. "That I cannot believe of you. The brilliant Egon Spengler must have some comment for me?"
Spengler drew himself stiffly erect. "If you think you can scare me into releasing Samhaine," he stated with hardly a tremor in his voice, "think again. I won't do it, no matter what you do."
"I don't want you to," Lordaine said, raising both fists heavenward. "I want to tear that prison apart with my own hands!" He glared into Egon's tight face. "You are here to die, Spengler -- all of you. You Ghostbusters, miserable creatures of flesh - you dare think you can stop the flow of events; that you can stop fate? We are ancient gods, human, and we will take back this world we once ruled. No more will we retreat into the shadows of the past. The world will be ours..." One leather- gloved hand touched Egon's face gently. " ...and your tormented souls shall be mine."
With that, Lordaine began to grow, towering over Egon as every inch the ancient god he claimed to be. The tattered cloak whipped about as the ethereal breeze became a cyclone, spinning ever faster. As badly as he wanted to run, Egon found himself held fast by that irresistible tempest, and still Lordaine continued to grow until there was naught but the engulfing folds of his dark cloak. He felt the gloved hands of the phantom pressing tightly against the sides of his head, his long blond hair stinging his eyes as the wind blew it about. Strange words from a language long forgotten filled the room, stabbing deep inside his being. Egon knew a spell was being cast -- felt it to the very core of his soul -- and also knew that there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Finally, a burst of fetid wind and a cloud of smoke sent Spengler tumbling to the floor, his mind a mess of scattered thoughts. "You don't "look well, Dr. Spengler, not well at all," a familiar voice gloated from above.
"Huh?" Egon groaned as he gazed upwards to find a vision of... himself. "What kind of madness...?"
"Not madness -- reality." The doppelganger ran one long-fingered hand through its disordered locks, combing them into their normally coiffured style. "In this form I can move among my prey freely, exacting my revenge slowly and at my will." He laughed, honest amusement lighting the angular features. "I can just imagine the look on Venkman's face when he's blown to bits by one of his 'best" friends! And Stantz...." Lordaine licked his lips. "Or should I say Ray? I shall introduce him to the myriad delights by which my people have worshipped me for millennia."
A sickening dread forced Egon's head up. "But that was...."
"Yes." The Egon-thing laughed again in delight. "The time of the harvest was also a time of renewal. The pleasures of the body were but one sacrifice offered to the Lord of the Harvest."
Egon's stomach contracted in horror for his two comrades. Peter -- whose hard-won trust had been betrayed so often in his past -- was to be betrayed yet again by one he loved. A harsher fate Egon couldn't imagine for his friend for, even should Venkman survive the attack -- an unlikely possibility in any event -- he would never again offer his trust to another human soul. A life of loneliness and suspicion forever.
And Ray.... Egon groaned aloud at the thought. Ray's boyish innocence was almost a catchword to the other three. Even the admittedly unfrivolous Spengler had off-times had to shake his head at the thought of a man passing his thirtieth birthday without losing any of his childish delight in life, having remained so untouched as yet by the cruelties of society. Spengler and the others had always protected their friend, preserving his spirit as the one spark of purity in an otherwise mad world. The violation Lordaine suggested would destroy that touch innocence -- and the man along with it.
"I see you understand," the Dark Lord approved, peering deep into Egon's agonized face. "You always were quick ... for a human."
"Winston...."
"The soldier?" Lordaine's image wavered slightly, but a few muttered incantations restored the illusion. "Seeing his friends destroyed in such a manner as I plan should be more than enough to reawaken the old terrors he lived through in your ... Vi-et Nam." Lordaine pronounced the words as though he was unfamiliar with them. "I'm sorry to have missed that particular event. It sounds as if it was a most ... interesting occurrence."
"No, you can't do this." Egon sighed heavily as he tried to pull himself off the floor. He fell back with a pained gasp.
Lordaine stooped down next to the fallen scientist. "A strong spell, isn't it? I've spent two years looking for it, but I need one more thing to seal it." His features wavered again and that was when Egon noticed the one detail lacking in the disguise.
Lordaine reached out, plucking Egon's glasses from the bridge of his nose and perching them on his own. A quick slap of ectoplasmic energy danced on the round red frames, sealing the spell. The Dark Lord was now every inch as real as Egon, but far more dangerous.
Lordaine rose. "You are too weak to walk or to call out for help, so I leave you in this room of shattered glass. Fitting, don't you think, for a man of shattered dreams?" He strode to the door. "Good night. Dr. Spengler. And ... have a nice day."
***
"If you two don't vacate my buddies' bods, I'm gonna have to do something drastic. What, I don't know, but it'll be drastic." Peter threatened and struggled as he was shoved into a small, dirty storage room. Winston and Ray stood outside for a moment, consulting with some low, guttural words. Then they removed their proton packs and entered the room themselves, locking the heavy door behind them. Peter backed up against the far wall, watching in awe as two distinctly different forms emerged from Ray and Winston. The forms hovered menacingly above the room, then zipped out the door. Winston and Ray staggered, and Peter jumped to their sides, catching each by one arm before they would have fallen. Carefully, he lowered his two friends to the floor.
"Gosh, my head feels weird," Ray moaned, pulling his knees up and resting his face on them.
"Yeah. I feel like I've been listening to Egon explain relativity again," Winston added. "Where are we, anyway?"
"We've taken a little detour," Peter answered, matter of factly. "Seems you two had some company. Couple of guys named Ronnie and Marv decided they wanted to go joy riding in Ecto for old times sake."
Winston stared at the psychologist in patent disbelief. "You ain't sayin' we were possessed?"
"Yup."
"Ronnie and.... Aren't those the two guys from that article Egon found?" Ray asked, raising his head and looking around. "And where is Egon? Is he all right?" Peter stared at the floor, deliberately not meeting his eyes, and Ray struggled to his feet in sudden panic. "Oh, my gosh, he's not...?" The sudden movement drained all the blood from his face and only Peter's arm slung instantly around his waist prevented him from slamming face first into the concrete floor.
"Easy does it, pal," Peter admonished, bracing the younger man. "Take a deep breath. Good."
Ray found his feet and pulled away with a wan grin. "Good thing I lost all that weight," he joked weakly, "or we would've both been in trouble."
Peter returned the smile. "Maybe not both," he corrected firmly. "You okay, Winston?"
Zeddemore groaned. "Man, I ain't felt like this since my old Army unit mixed it up with those Marines in Hong Kong." He fixed Peter with a straight look. "And you didn't answer Ray's question; where is Egon?"
Peter indulged in one of his trademarked I-haven't-the-foggiest shrugs, but he couldn't keep the worry from his voice. "You two escorted us upstairs and left him there with some big creep," he explained, offering Winston a hand up. "Then you brought us here and played another game of 'musical bodies' with Ronnie and Marv."
"We've got to get out of here. No telling what's happened to poor Egon by now," Winston said, peering out the door's barred window. "He ... holy cats!" The others crowded around to see what appeared to be Egon to the rescue. The physicist aimed his particle thrower, sending the two ghosts fleeing for their lives with a stream of accelerated protons.
"Stand back," the blond ordered. The others had barely an Instant to obey before he blew the door off its hinges.
"You got away from the big, bad ghoul," Peter cheered, clearing the melted remains of the door with a bound. "Good goin', Egon. Let's find our packs and clean house." Ray and Winston were only a step behind; Winston picked up the remaining proton pack and strapped it on as Spengler checked the corridor.
"That's a good idea," Egon said over his shoulder. "We'd better split up. Peter, you come with me; Ray and Winston can back-track down the hallway."
"Sounds good. Let's do it," Peter agreed, following Egon to the stairs. He favored the remaining two with a cheery 'Toodlele-Ooo' waggle of his fingers. "Remember, kids, no fair hogging all the fun. If you see anything, give us a holier, okay?" His words were light, the glitter in his green eyes was not.
When they had disappeared, Winston turned to Ray and noted uneasily, "I don't like it, Ray. Egon's never been that gung-ho to take charge. He's always let Peter take the lead."
"You don't think they did something to Egon?!" Ray gasped, wide-eyed and appalled. The thought of anything happening to the seemingly invincible Spengler was almost inconceivable to the youngest Ghostbuster.
"I don't know, man." Winston rubbed his face reflectively. "I just feel like there's something not quite right here."
Ray's open face hardened with determination. "I'm going to go warn Peter," he announced. He exchanged a look with Zeddemore, and his expression wavered. "Are you going to be all right?"
"I'll be fine." Winston slapped his colleague on the shoulder, then whipped out his proton rifle in one smooth, unhurried gesture. "You're the one who's unarmed. Remember that."
Stantz smiled again, a flash of white teeth in the murky gloom. "I will. Be careful." And he was gone, his boots making slapping noises on the stone steps.
Zeddemore threw a switch arming the accelerator, and offered the night a wolfish smile. "Odds are even now, suckers," he growled softly. "Time for us to rock and roll."
He found a back stairway that led up to the second floor landing. There was no sign of ghostly activity at all save for the faintly glowing walls -something which made him more uneasy than the reverse would have. Passing a door further down the hallway, he backed up when he heard a strange whining from within. Bracing himself, he burst through the door ready for action, only to find, to his astonishment, "Slimer! What are you doing here? Did you hide in the muffler again?" The little green ghost, covered with tell-tale soot, nodded nervously.
"What is it, Slimer? What's wrong? You're shaking like a leaf." Winston grimaced as Slimer bugged him tightly, then casually wiped the residual slime away on his sleeve. "Eeegonnn, Eeegonnn, baaad spell, Winnnstonnn!" Slimer wailed.
"But we just saw Egon; Peter's with him," Winston explained, as Slimer tugged impatiently at his arm.
"No! Not Eeegon -- Lordaine!"
Zeddemore regarded him puzzledly. "Who the heck is Lordaine?"
"The brother of ... Samhaine."
The last was not spoken in Slimer's reedy falsetto. Winston looked up to find Egon standing in a doorway, clinging to the frame. Without another word, the physicist collapsed to the floor.
"Egon!" Winston rushed over and knelt beside his friend. "Egon, what's going on? Are you all right?
Spengler struggled to sit up, only to fall back against Winston's arm. "Got to stop him, Winston. It's a trap," he managed breathlessly. "Lordaine ... he wants to destroy us ... set Samhaine free ... rule the world."
"So that's not you -- it's Samhaine's brother ..." Zeddemore's eyes widened in horrified revelation, "... and he's got Peter! We've got to stop him!"
"Can't do it -- not enough proton when he's in that form," Egon said, stopping the black man with a gesture. "He's too near human like that. We've got to break the spell ... catch him ... off guard ... my glasses...." With that, Egon passed out.
"What does he mean, Slimer?" Winston asked, more confused than ever. He lowered the physicist to the floor then remained kneeling, deep in thought. Slimer floated about the room a couple of times, keening softly to himself.
"That's it!" Winston's sudden shout start led the little ghost into popping through the nearest wall. He reemerged immediately with a shame-faced smile. "Lordaine has Egon's glasses; he must be using them as some sort of spell binder. We've gotta get them back, little guy. It's the only way to save Egon. We need him; he knows more about this Lordaine character than all of us put together, including Ray." He regarded the friendly specter earnestly. "I'm gong to need your help, Slimer. Think you can do it?"
Slimer's big orange eyes shifted from Egon's still figure on the floor to Winston's solemn features. Summoning up all the courage he could, he put on his best grin and said in his high-pitched voice, "You got it, Winnnston. We'll busttt him, but goood!" He flew off leaving a very worried Winston to watch over Egon.
***