The Incubus Lord

Chapter 2: The Mindscape

Author's Note: This chapter starts off a little grim, since the concept of prison isn't very nice to think about. The exposition is not entirely necessary to the story, but will hopefully bring some perspective to the concept of spending eternity inside a small gem. For those who wish to skip that part, there will be a CAPS notification once this first part of the chapter is over with.

Before I can get to the actual story, I must do a little world-building to make sure no-one needs to ask what in the name of (...insert favourite invocation here) is going on. So right now, I write the background, but there should be more action and/or other activities soon...

For those who wish to imagine the living room that is about to be the stage of something drastic, watch 'Justice League: Dark'. You'll find during the story that I mix and match some characters, places, and events from different JL cartoons and comics, because that is how I envision them. I already threw in some Young Justice with Klarion and Teekl, I do hope I portrayed them right.

I own nothing of this story but the plot: all characters, referenced movies and cartoons are the property of DC Comics and/or their respective other owners and will stay that way.

Thanks for your patience with me, enjoy reading this next chapter of 'The Incubus Lord'.

Prison. The concept is simple: very limited freedom as punishment for what another views as a wrongdoing against them. But in reality, it can be insanely versatile. The time one spends in a prison can be anything from a couple of hours to eternity. If clocks aren't present, time will warp itself to the perception of the prisoner. If the cell is underground, the prisoner will get even more disoriented, since no daylight will tell them the state of the world.

News about the world outside the prisoner's cell is limited at best, but not necessarily complete silence. Exercise or time outside the chamber where the prisoner resides is of course limited, but these small tastes of freedom are possible in the right prisons, or the right circumstances. Some will see these as signals that hope is not yet lost. Others will experience torture in seeing or experiencing that which is forever beyond their reach without supervision.

Food can be as diverse as the standard three hearty meals a day or only one single plate of slop to last a week. Relaxing with books or music, games or other entertainment can be found in the more benevolent prisons, but the stricter places will never allow even a shred of happiness for their inmates.

The location can vary from a cold mountain range to an underwater or underground facility or a desert building in the middle of nowhere. Or in the outskirts of a great city, with civilization just out of reach, almost but not quite close enough to feel life flowing around you. The name could be anything: Iron Heights, Stryker's Island, Blackgate Prison; or it could be posing as a simpler, more benevolent place, like Arkham Asylum, where the insane go to be 'cured' but more than likely will be tossed into a spare 4 by 4 square, padded room, with the door locked and the key gathering dust in the back of a locked archive.

There is, however, one prison that is both more diverse than any physical cell, and yet the same for every person that manages to get trapped in it: the mind.

The mind is a fascinating place, but for those who commit great evil it can become one of two: sanctuary or sentence. The criminally insane will find solace in their shattered mindscapes, the completely unhinged images of their own lack of logic soothing to their conscience, whispering that the deeds which would normally send them straight to Hell were 'not their fault', that they were unable to comprehend the action or the consequence for their evil. The Scarecrow, Dr. Jonathan Crane, is safe in his own mind, from the repercussions and the guilt that would threaten to overwhelm a saner cranium after dousing numerous victims in chemicals that bring their greatest fears to life.

Those that can't or won't surrender to madness will often find themselves chained up in their own heads, for where the insane can or will not find the connection between the action and the sorrow that follows, the others that retreat to the safety of their own head will find themselves thinking of little else, only focusing on what they have done and caused.

And the mind is also the most dangerous prison one can find, for there is no reprieve from your own thoughts. It is a never-ending loop of guilt and what-ifs, thoughts always tormenting the individual, even in their dreams. For if you've already reached the deepest part of yourself, where is there left to run? Someone who finds themselves inside the prison of their own mind, will do anything, make any deal, commit any act, that will set them free from this most dreadful of cells.

And they will do anything to stay out of there.

Alright, that's the heavy philosophy for today. No need to dwell on that anymore...

As the gem sails through the air towards Teekl, the three homo magi never even stop their respective battles. Neither do the Lords of Order and Chaos halt their deadly give-and-take. Teekl doesn't even flinch away; in the thousands of years it's been at Klarion's side, it has been pelted by numerous sticks and stones; it has burst through walls and been showered in rubble. There is no end to the number of windows and trees it has been smashed through. A little glass ball will hardly be an annoyance, let alone actually hurt it.

That was a mistake.

As the black onyx impacts the head of the Chaos familiar, it senses something within. And, for Teekl, Time itself seems to grind to a halt. Teekl knows what is happening; its master has encountered mind-magics before, and the big cat has learned that inside the mind-space, time is irrelevant: it can compact several days into a single second of awareness or stretch a second into an infinite number of hours. The prey it has been chasing around the large room is still, unmoving. It doesn't even appear to breathe. The old-smelling two-legs and the female enemy are frozen, half-transfigured weapons and bolts of mystical energy hanging between them. Teekl decides to focus on the source of the mind-magic: it must return to its master, after killing its prey of course, and Teekl can't do that as long as it is trapped inside the pocket of time in the mind-space.

Inside the onyx, the single point of imperfection grows impossibly still, and Teekl, following the stereotypical nature of a cat and its curiosity, decides to investigate the strange, alien consciousness it encounters within the gem. For a split-second, it seems the little point of awareness is just that, tiny and insignificant. Teekl almost wonders where it would get the energy to draw a familiar as magnificent as it into a mind-space. But then, Teekl realizes something. The little consciousness is not little at all. It is compressed. And as the familiar dives deeper and deeper into the onyx, it sees just how compressed. The being is not small or weak, but an infinite source of power, shrunk as small as a speck of dust. Power that is starting to leak through.

First, Teekl wonders how, since the glass ball is smooth, and has no cracks. But, that glass ball was hurled at it by its prey, with enough force to cause the tiniest of cracks. Teekl knows one thing for certain: with all that power compressed that tightly, a single crack would be enough to make the entire orb burst.

The Chaos familiar wants to draw out of the mind-space: it needs to warn its master of the... whatever is inside the onyx. But Teekl is not allowed out yet. The being inside the ball wants something from the cat, and as old and powerful as Teekl is, it has no magic that will aid it here. So long as the being is in control, Teekl will have to figure out what it wants, or they could be trapped in this moment for as long as the being wants them to be.

Teekl thinks it needs to take another look at the psychedelic energy trapped inside the black nothing. Maybe that is what the being wants? But as the familiar proceeds to do just that, it realizes that its initial thoughts weren't entirely correct. Yes, the being has power, and a lot of it. Most of the Chaos Lord's enemies wouldn't stand a chance against it. But there is also a... hunger. A potential for more, more power, more... everything. And the hunger isn't just a hunger, for the being is... ravenous. It craves for something, to end the hunger, to be complete. Teekl doesn't like the feeling of its hunger. And then, Teekl feels something else.

A powerful voice burrows its way into the senses of the Chaos Lord's trusted ally, a voice that doesn't speak. Rather, it seems to send impressions, feelings into the mind and instincts of the cat turned tiger. It sings softly to Teekl, beckoning it, begging it to listen. Are you happy with your master, it asks. Wouldn't you like something better than this life? Teekl growls at the 'voice', for it is very happy with the Chaos Lord: without him, Teekl wouldn't be dangerous, wouldn't be more.

The 'voice' seems to laugh, and sends images into the cat's mind: how would you like to be more, little cat? Power, magic, life? I can offer it to you, more than your master ever could. Your master doesn't offer you life, little one: he offers you servitude. At that last 'word', Teekl gets the impression of chains clapping into place around its paws, heavy and restricting. You are a slave to his needs, the whispers continue, and he has no regard for your own. Once he is done, he will toss you aside to ascend back to his masters in the heavens. He will abandon you, little cat.

Teekl growls hard, but feels a sliver of doubt crawl into its mind. As instinct and desire battle a loyalty thousands of years old, Teekl wonders to itself: what would you offer me then? More chains? More idiotic schemes. Just the same as my master. That is when the 'voice' stops laughing. Instead, it seems to grow cold, and furious. It whispers of how it loathes chaining others, how everything must be a choice to it. The imprisonment has changed me in some ways, it whispers, from how I used to be. Briefly, Teekl receives images of a madness, long ago, sweeping across the stars, conquering everything in its path, destroying that which will not bend to its persuasion or break under its oppressive power and carnage. Stars and planets bathing in the blood of innocent lives, entire worlds burning or shattering into debris. At the centre of it all stands a figure, titanic in its power and control, wings and claws and pure malicious content in what it has wrought.

The vision ends, and the 'voice' talks of the Lords of Chaos and Order, the celestial beings of the emotional spectrum, and a group of deities hailing from Gaea working together to create a prison, absolute in containing even its power as long as the many facets remain undamaged. It speaks of the millennia it spends in solitude, in madness, until gradually, sanity returns out of boredom, and guilt sets in. Teekl feels the gradual formation of a new being, for the old one, that being that was madness and conquest incarnate, is dying inside it's prison. Teekl feels a sense of relief that this threat is gone, but the 'voice' is not done yet. It speaks of how it was 'reborn', for lack of a better word, for how is something reborn when all it can do is exist, not even death reaching inside it's cell? The 'voice' explains to Teekl, how it grew to a new set of standards: now, it speaks, I crave only to live. For what is existence, without the joys of experiencing? It loathes the chains it is forced to wear, the walls of its prison, and all that indicates binding the will of another. Unless both sides agree to it. For then, it is choice, not servitude.

The Chaos familiar is enraptured by the story, as it is presented in images, feelings and impressions. Then, at last, the voice starts whispering of something different: how its prison is finally breaking open, but not completely, no, not yet. How the orb is no longer a perfect sphere, for the collision with the tiger's head has left a scratch, a flaw, on the ball. That is what allowed it to cast out its mind, and connect with the familiar, it explains. Teekl wonders what exactly the voice wants from it then, for if it were already free, Teekl believes it would not bother with a conversation. Again, the familiar receives the impression of mirth from the 'voice'. It says that, while it is free to speak with those touching its prison, it is not yet free to move or interact with the world. And even if it were, it would not have the power it once had, the magic it possessed. It will need to absorb power before it is ready to live.

The 'voice' offers Teekl a bargain: free it from the orb, break its chains completely. In return... Teekl suddenly receives another vision. A male, dressed all in black offsetting its pale skin, with black feathery wings extending from its back, is walking in the middle of a forest. Clawed gauntlets and black leather boots, a wide-brimmed hat inscribed with magical runes on his head. Beside him walks a female, with orange hair filled with black stripes, blood-red eyes with black, slitted pupils, and a furry tail extending from below her waist. Hands with long nails and sharp teeth flash as she smiles at the male, then bounds off in a different direction. Teekl feels that the woman enjoys walking beside the black man, but more, it feels that the female is his equal in his eyes. They walk side by side, neither truly in front. As the female runs off, Teekl senses she is going somewhere to fulfil her own desires, to do what she likes. As the vision continues, the sun rises and sets. The man keeps walking, sure of his path but with no destination in mind, it seems. As the moon finally takes its place overhead, the female returns, and steps in beside the man again. He does not stop, and neither does she. Teekl sees him turn his head and smile at the slightly smaller woman, which she returns with a fanged, feral grin. They continue walking through the forest, as if she never left his side.

The cat familiar to the Chaos Lord on Earth feels something else: a sense of completion. Since it started being Klarion's familiar, it has always felt like a servant, a dear one, but a servant nonetheless. Here, it sees no servant. The woman is, to the man, equal: free to do her own thing, yet always willing to return on her own terms. And powerful in her own right, not dependent on the man for protection or strength. Teekl likes the vision, and keeps its attention on it until it ends.

The 'voice' remains silent, but an air of importance hangs inside the mindscape. Teekl is in turmoil: the inner battle between desire and loyalty is now a full war, as the bond it formed thousands of years ago screams of obedience and loyalty to its master while a desire formed only an hour ago inside this mindscape (a second ago in the real world) whispers it's seductive message of freedom and need. Finally, the 'voice' returns, and softly whispers into Teekl's mind: it is the choice of the familiar. Yes or no to the bargain, Teekl will be free to leave after it considers the bargain. And as Teekl does, it finds it likes the idea of a new start, with someone respectful 'in charge'. The demon cat isn't dumb, however: it has been watching its master make deals for millennia, after all. It asks the 'voice' to craft a magical vow. For a moment, there is silence. Then the 'voice' laughs again, and Teekl receives a feeling of both mirth and respect for its resilience and craftiness. The 'voice' informs Teekl that because of the nature of their communication, a magical vow is not safe to make for it, right now, but it offers an alternative. Teekl sees a new vision: of the power fleeing the crystal, but as soon as it tries to double-cross Teekl, it gets absorbed into the cat and destroyed. It ends on a questioning note, once again leaving Teekl to make a decision. It does not take very long.

As John Constantine tosses the faceted orb at the gigantic monster cat, he never considers the implications of what it could do. What he doesn't expect is for the orb to smash into the skull of the creature, rebound, and roll towards the fireplace, leaving the demon cat to shake its head and roar at Constantine, seemingly without suffering any kind of effect from the supposedly magic ornament. What it does next, however, baffles the ritual master, and has the battle between Zatanna and Faust grind to a screeching halt. Teekl abandons all interest in the game of cat and mouse with the unfortunate Brit, and instead pads over towards the fallen crystal. Picking it up in its maw, Teekl then calmly walks towards the corner of the room that has been set ablaze with Greek Fire, right between the formerly battling sorcerers without ever acknowledging them, and drops the ball into the twisting flames.

What only magic wielders and a select few others know about Greek Fire, is that it cleanses the dark. Completely. Anything malicious is immediately destroyed in it, while it only acts as regular fire to anything else. Usually, a creature like Teekl, which is drenched in the darker arts necessary to bind a being to another body and soul, wouldn't come within two miles of anything even related to Greek Fire. This has all three magic users surprised, and unable to predict the outcome of that action. The little gem is tossed into the flames, and the onyx slowly starts to disintegrate. A regular gemstone would deform or change colour, but the onyx almost seems to melt away, disintegrating into powder and smoke as soon as it releases from the central core. And the entire time, the gem is shrieking and screeching, as if it is in pain, suffering unimaginable horror.

Within a minute, only a thin layer centered around the imperfection remains, and all three magicians are covering their ears. The sound isn't just a screech from a pained animal now, it is infused with power, an unnatural magic coloring the screams of the dying gem. It is something primal, as if magic itself is shuddering at what is occurring in the Fire. Finally, it ends. And as it does, a surge of power flows through the House of Mysteries.

With a startlingly loud BANG, the remainder of the prison crystal explodes, as a titanic wave of magic flows through the air, blanketing everything. A cloud of black smoke, all that remains of the faceted orb, forms in the middle of the dying embers of what once was Greek Fire but is now only a plume and an acrid smell. The sorcerers and the familiar are pushed through the air and into the bookcases surrounding the living room, as is the debris of the fight and the few remaining pieces of furniture. Elsewhere in the House, two Lords in black and blue respectively clutch at their heads, yelling in agony at the sudden pressure of power from all directions, all thoughts of offensive or defensive magic forgotten for the moment.

The black cloud slowly solidifies, pulling together into a form that is starting to resemble a humanoid. The magic, which was previously just swirling in the air, is sucked into the form at an increasingly rapid pace, further aiding the process of forming a body for the being. As it is, the humanoid form rapidly runs through a few shapes: black, feathery wings are replaced by tentacles, only to grow back a second later. Extra limbs shoot out and retract at nigh impossible speeds, a tail shoots out and takes different forms before fading away again: the legs briefly spring together to form a snake's tail, then split apart to become a Satyr's hooved and hairy legs, followed by a merman's tail and then becoming human feet again.

The being, after a few minutes of condensing and shifting through different body parts and types (some of which none of the three humans have ever seen alive) seems to settle on the form of a big, lean man, with black hair and black wings, both so dark they seem to absorb the light around them; the same shade as the onyx crystal was, almost but not quite writhing as though alive. He towers over Faust and Zatanna, and even Constantine (who was a respectible height himself) feels a bit dwarfed by the big man that emerges from the noxious cloud. For clothing the man wears a tattered, body-fitting cloak, almost wrapped around him like a toga. After a few seconds, where none of the magical beings in the room dare to move in their (a touch morbid) fascination with the prisoner of the crystal, he sinks to his knees, and slowly, almost painfully, exhales. A small cloud of black smoke escapes his mouth, as he rasps an obviously painful lungful of air back in.

Finally, he stands up again, and his form is revealed to be gaunt, almost starved, but his eyes... his eyes are sharp, golden orbs with black, slitted pupils in the middle. Captivating, psychedelic colours momentarily shoot through the gold, as he takes in the other occupants of the room. As his gaze lands on Teekl, who is warily crouched and not taking its blood-coloured eyes of the recently formed being, the golden eyes scrunch up in mirth as they take in the feline body of the big cat. Then he grins, revealing sharp, almost vampiric teeth, and speaks.

"At last."

So, how was that? The prisoner has escaped his cell, and is now free to do as he wishes – sort of. He still has to make good on that deal with Teekl, doesn't he? In any case, next chapter the Heroes and Villains will meet a being who apparently has plenty of power, and hungers for more. But is he a good person after all those millennia of solitary confinement? Or just a power-hungry madman?

I guess we will have to find out.

Let me know what you think, and enjoy the weekend!

Pagewriter 11