Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters. There you go.

AN: Here it is, the trailer for the sequel of Dreams of the Damned. Enjoy!

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A door is pushed open in a shadowy conference room. One light, a light bulb suspended from a string with a shade around it, casts light on the center of the table. Three vague forms can be seen seated at various seats around the table, but there is only one on the left, in the middle seat. A man steps in, a well dressed man of apparently middle years, with neat black hair clad in a suit, a silver watch peeking out from under his left sleeve. The man on the left of the table speaks up. "Greetings, Mr. Bond." The voice is an electrically filtered and garbled monotone, making it impossible to identify the voice.

"Hello," Bond stated.

"I assume you are wondering why you are here," one of the men on the right stated, his voice as unidentifiable as the first's.

"You know about the anti-League washing ashore, all dead." That was the third man, whose voice was softer and yet still unidentifiable.

"Yes," Bond stated, looking at all of them in turn. "What is this about?"

"We cannot get in touch with the League," the second man stated.

"You are here to recruit a new League, for a dual purpose," the first man stated. "We wish for this League to discover what has happened to the other."

"What else would you like them to do," Bond asked, knowing that people nowadays didn't blindly trust the government like they did in the days when the first League, full of oddities of science and the supernatural, was created.

"We can speak no more of that," the first man snapped. "You will pay attention, Mr. Bond, or we will find someone to replace you."

"I understand, sir," Bond replied. "I apologize."

"You are forgiven," the electric warble sighed. "You will function as the liaison between the League and ourselves, as before. The leader of this League has already been selected. A Private Eye." The man plops a file down in the center of the concentrated circle of light, and a name can be seen on the tab. Dick Tracy….

We see a metal pod with a human head inside. It is the size of an average human, and we begin to pan up the pod. As we pass the collar level of the pod, we note the name of the famous private eye there, as well as the fact that he has been cryogenically frozen since the end of the 50's. We stop at the porthole of the pod, looking in at the face of Dick Tracy. There is a brief hissing, and then mist floats up rapidly to block the camera's view.

We return to the room. "A vigilante," the second man says, as the first plops down a file on top of Dick Tracy's. The words The Mask are on the top of the tab.

We see a gang of biker thugs snorting coke and fondling an obviously distressed woman in a garage. There is a knock at the door, and one of the biker's goes to answer it. He is immediately ripped through by bullets and falls to the ground, revealing a man with a large, bald green head, teeth the size of baseball cards, an incredibly small nose, and large eyes. He wears a biker's jacket with spikes on the shoulders, baggy golf pants that are tucked into combat boots, and a faded red muscle shirt. He holds a chain gun.

We return to the room. "A hero," the third man intones, as a file is plopped on top of The Mask file. Spider-Man….

Spider-Man swings toward the camera, disappearing behind it, and it spins around, to see that he is headed straight for a showdown with a well-armed bank robber. He lets go of the webline he was holding, flips, and sticks to the wall before launching a web net down and wrapping the bank robber up. He yanks upwards, and the robber flies through the air. Spidey grabs the net out of the air and sticks it to the side of a building, within police reach.

We return to the room, with Bond nodding in the direction of the folders. The man on the left laughs and plops down a fourth folder. "A demon goddess," he states. Bond's eyes widen at the name Illyria….

We see a thin woman with narrow hips, long, curly, dark hair, and a thin face, strides toward the camera. She wears red leather armor, segmented at each joint. The camera turns as she walks passed, to see a group of vampires all slavering for blood. One dives forward, and she lets a casual backhand smash him back six feet and onto a sharp piece of broken piping. He dusts instantly. Two more come at her, and she drops down, sweeping her feet out and tripping them both up. She smirks and thrusts her hands through their chests, and they both turn to ash. The final one looks at the piles of dust that were formerly his comrades before turning and running as fast as he could in the other direction. She sighs and waves her hand, and after an odd ripple in the air, the running vampire seems to stop in mid-step. As she walks towards him, it appears that all time has stopped. She walks around the vampire, peering at him curiously, before putting her hand on his chest and starting time again. He runs himself right onto her hand, and after a horribly shocked look, he too turns to dust.

We return to the room to see that Bond still appears shocked by the latest file added to the pile, and requires the snapping fingers of the second man for his focus to return to the three figures. The second man grins and states, "An ex-FBI agent." The first man slapped down a file that Bond vaguely recognized, he'd thumbed through it once before when he was bored. Fox Mulder….

We fade in on a dim apartment, as a man that appears to be in his late 30's enters his apartment, wearing the civilian clothes he'd come to get familiar with wearing. A muscle shirt with a plaid button down shirt unbuttoned overtop, jeans, and rather beat up sneakers. He walks past a poster of a UFO that reads "I want to believe," and sits down on the couch, putting his feet up next to a badge that marked him as an FBI agent back when he was at the Bureau. It has fallen into disrepair, and it is obvious due to the look of disdain the man gives the badge that he is no longer associated with the government. The badge has what is apparently his name, Fox Mulder, on it in his own signature. He begins flipping through channels, a rather bored look on his face.

We flash back to the room to see Bond's eyebrow rise at this, thinking the man to be little more than a man with too many conspiracy theories and too little a grasp on realism. "A…man with experience." Bond looked questioning at this, until he saw the name on the tab. Ashley "Ash" Williams….

There is a booming sound, like that of a high powered shotgun, and a flash, and we see a man with neatly combed, slicked back black hair directing shoppers down an aisle in a retail store called S-Mart. He wears a pale blue jacket, buttoned at the center, for his uniform, and his pants are tucked into work boots. He stands in such a way that his right hand is hidden from view, until a strange wind begins to blow. His eyes narrow, and he looks around the store, suddenly looking like a warrior on high alert. A customer spins his head around and cackles again, and Ash steps out into full view, the chainsaw attached to the stump of his right arm glinting in the little remaining light. "Asswhooping, aisle four," Ash states cockily. The rapidly rotting demon spins and charges forward, but is met with swift death as Ash dodges and slashes horizontally with his chainsaw, taking the demon's head clean off. It rolls harmlessly around on the floor as Ash spits on the body.

We are slowly faded back into the room, seeing the first man lean forward slightly. "And finally," the first man states, "a pyrokinetic." He plops down the final folder, and Bond reads the name Charlie McGee on the tab.

We flash to a tall, straight haired woman with dark hair, wearing the outfit of a waitress from a diner as she slips out of the side door of her workplace, into a darkened alley, and directly into the barrel of a revolver. The man holding it appears to be homeless, and he reeks of alcohol. He growls drunkenly at her and shoves her backwards, into the alley itself, pressing her up against the wall. He places the gun scant inches from her temple as he reaches his hand down and places it on her inner left thigh. He doesn't notice the temperature rising at first, until she grins and flicks her eyes to the gun. He looks at the muzzle, to see that it has melted. He backs up, but it's too late for him, as his pants burst into flame. The woman saunters past, even as more of the alley goes up in flame, and the man screams in fright. Finally, having had her fun and made her way swiftly out of the alley, she concentrated and managed to put the fire on his pants out. The man ran out of the alley, without his gun, in the opposite direction from the way the woman was going.

We see a large fist punch the camera, and for a moment, the picture swims as if someone's vision had been greatly disturbed. When it settles, six familiar silhouettes can be seen outlined against a setting sun.

There is the sound of a gunshot, and we flash to a dimly lit room full of shiny marble pillars. Bullets rip through the room, chipping the edges of pillars and ricocheting off the shiny marble floor. Dick Tracy, gun held at the ready, ducks behind one of the pillars for cover.

There is the sound of a crashing, and we flash to a school bus, Dick Tracy at the wheel and the rest of the group packed into the bus. Charlie pushes off one of the little movable ventilation plates on top and climbs out onto the roof. She looks forward and we see a barricade of wooden bars with concrete in between. She holds out her right hand in the direction of the roadblock, closes her eyes, and concentrates. The wood catches on fire almost immediately, but the concrete doesn't burst into flame until just in time. The bus careens through the weakened roadblock as Charlie drops back into the bus, Mulder catching her and setting her down on her back in a seat.

There is a sound of smashing metal and we see The Mask standing in front of the large, bulky silhouette in a room that appeared to be a parking garage. The large silhouette slams a hand down, but The Mask dodges and produces a chain gun from apparently nowhere, firing it at the large silhouette immediately.

A Chinese man in overalls takes on an offensive stance on what appears to be the ledge of a cliff, the sun setting in the distance. He has short, dark hair and were it not for the offensive stance, he would have a kindly, thoughtful face. "I don't want to do this," he states, and we see that he is speaking to Illyria.

"Then don't."

"I don't have a choice."

"Then it is pointless to explain yourself," Illyria states, throwing a punch directly towards the camera.

There is a flash, and we look at Mulder pointing his gun towards the camera, apparently out on a dark night, in a park of some sort it looked like. "I'm not a FBI agent anymore," he states. "Come out or I'll shoot!" One of the silhouettes, a smaller one with a stout build, steps out and faces Mulder. It runs towards him, a sword flashing in its hand, and Mulder fires at its head.

A bright light blinds the camera for a moment, but then it fades and we see Ash revving up his chainsaw as the thin silhouette with the narrow waist runs towards him. He looks a bit beat up already, and knows he won't do it alone. He ducks out, prepared to try anyway, when a webline shoots out and grabs the silhouette off the ground. The silhouette is slammed against the wall and cocooned in web there, the head being the only thing left out. Spider-Man drops down and moves closer, while Ash just takes off its head. There is an odd, electrical crackling that can be heard for just a fraction of a second.

There is another booming, this time sounding like thunder, and we see a nighttime New York City, specifically a tall building with a tall black figure leaning on a diamond topped cane, gazing out the window at the rainy night, his white suit an odd contrast to the dark colors of the office. The door begins to open behind him and he grins around his cigar. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

The scene booms out with the booming of thunder, and this time, all is blackness. Finally, after a few moments, misty letters begin to float upwards.

Kingpin of the World