Chapter 9
Nathan Occult stormed through the tunnels underneath London, his anger ready to spill over. These delays were maddening. He just wanted to get on with it. The General would have an explanation, he always did. The man's calm demeanor always had a soothing effect on Nathan. As he rounded the corner to the main hall, he heard the hacking cough of the General. Staying in the shadows, he watched in disgusted as the man fell to his knees as another coughing jag overtook him. They're getting worse, Nathan thought to himself. Soon the illness will eat away this once great man. Nathan sometimes wondered if the greater goal was still the main focus of the older man. It didn't really matter, for soon it would be time for Nathan to take charge and make sure their grand dreams came to fruition. In that, he would not hesitate to sacrifice anyone or anything. That time was rapidly approaching, but the older man still had his uses. Nathan waited silently until the General had recovered and then entered the chamber.
"General."
"Nathan, you seem troubled," the older man said, his breathing labored. He sat back heavily in his chair, wiping the perspiration from his weary face.
"It's going too slow," Nathan commented.
"Patience isn't one of your strengths, is it?"
"No, I leave that for the weak and faint hearted," Nathan spat back, prowling around the chamber like a caged animal.
"We've come too far to make foolish mistakes now," the General consoled.
"This inaction is maddening! I'm climbing the walls!"
"Perhaps it's time you tested your skills?"
"What do you mean," Nathan asked, suddenly very interested in what the other man had to say.
"Morgaine le Fey needs more chaos, more violence, with your growing mastery of the dark arts, perhaps its time to put them to use," the older man suggested.
"Yes," Nathan said with a cold, menacing smile. He pulled a blade from his waistband and held it up to the light. Magic seemed to coarse down his arm and infuse the blade, making it glow in the dark chamber.
"I've activated several believers around the globe, but I think I have something special for you. There is a rather bloody civil war going on in Africa at the moment," the General told him. "Tribal rivalry for some God forsaken bit of earth and it is rather brutal and vicious. Unfortunately, one side has gained the upper hand and it looks as if they might actually bring an end to the fighting. Why don't you take a few believers there and show them what real horror is?"
"I'm always amazed at your wisdom, General," Nathan laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I hope you survive long enough for me to benefit fully from it."
"I have endured far worse than this. I've survived a world destroyed, I won't be defeated by a simple disease," the General instructed. "Now go, feed the blood lust that burns within you. Help bring about the future we both desire."
"With pleasure," Nathan said, practically licking his lips at the thought. The General watched him stalk off, eager for the kill. Good, the older man thought, keep him busy with his thirst for blood, while I continue with my own plans. Pressing a button on his chair, a door slid open and an ordinary looking man in a nondescript black suit immediately walked in.
"Yes, General," the man says.
"You have the crystals ready?"
"Yes, sir," the man says, holding up a grey duffle bag.
"Good, very good," the General said, "I want one of them placed in each dream tank location. This is of the utmost importance, Anon; it must be done with the highest secrecy. Our friend Nathan need know nothing of this. Is that clear?"
"I live to serve you, General," Anon said, bowing to the older man. "I will take care of it personally."
Angkor Wat, Cambodia
Morgaine le Fey stepped through the portal to the underground sleep chamber and gasped at the size of it. It was like a hollowed out mountain, with acres and acres of dreamers suspended in the dark water. Since her talk with the General and Nathan, she'd been curious about what they were actually up to with these sites. As she floated over the waters, she could feel the pulse of power and energy being generated from these dreamers. It all seemed to be flowing towards a central point. As she neared it, Morgaine saw the crystal twinkling in the dim light of the chamber. This was something new, she realized. Morgaine had secretly investigated several of these sites before and never come across any crystals. They seemed to be diverting some of the energy, pulling it into the crystals themselves. Through her nighttime visits to Hugo Strange, Morgaine thought she had a basic understanding of what they were doing. The chaos and terror they created was focused by her powers. It was a way to tap into Cthulhu and the Old Ones without risking their waking. These dream tanks were a way of collecting and storing that energy. Some how the collective unconscious of these believers had been linked into a shared dream state. She would need more information, so that meant poor, insane, brilliant Hugo would be getting another visit from his tormentor. Perhaps he even knew something about the Old Ones that she didn't. As Morgaine moved closer to the crystal to examine it, her cape inadvertently brushed against the dark water and one of the dreamers. The young woman's eyes opened, showing them to be pure white. As if by some unseen or heard signal, the water began to churn. Morgaine turned just in time to see the dragon begin to rise from the water. As it's great jaws opened and flames shot out, she dissolved into the thin air, the flames harmlessly scorching the chamber walls. The dragon systematically scanned the chamber and then as quickly as it had risen, submerged into the waters once more. The dreamer's eyes closed and only the sound of the lapping, shallow waves of the water could be heard.
Central Africa
The tide had turned and both sides knew it. The steady advance of the rebels on the capital seemed unstoppable now. The diplomats had long since evacuated, leaving those with nowhere else to go behind. The ruling Junta was desperately shredding papers and reports, trying to leave no trail of the brutality they had unleashed on the country when they seized power. They had little to worry about after today. The chaos of the capital was perfect cover for Nathan and his band of believers to enter unnoticed. They spread out like a plague, killing and destroying everything in their path. At the center of the carnage was Nathan. His magic shielded him from every bullet and grenade, while his knife hacked and slashed it's way through countless soldiers, both rebels and government alike. The blood lust had overtaken him and he gave it free reign. Not satisfied to merely kill everyone he saw, he began to use his powers to destroy buildings, houses, and hospitals, anything that caught his eye. The screams and wails of the few survivors were like music to his ear. Covered in blood, he was a nightmare brought to life. The believers had done their assignments just as well, taking out every important military, business and rebel leader. The last believer had died taking out the Colonel in charge of the Junta. There was no one left to kill, so Nathan set the capital ablaze. With a scream from some deep dark place inside his soul, he shimmered in the air and then vanished, leaving hell on earth behind him.
Arkham Asylum
Hugo knew she was coming, he could sense it in his bones. As the wall to his cell began to shimmer, he whimpered and pressed his eyes shut hoping against hope it was all a delusion. It wasn't a delusion, though, for there she was, wrapped in black, yet he could always catch a glimpse of the golden mask.
"Please, no," he begged.
"Easy, Hugo, I bring hope to you tonight. If you answer my questions fully, you will be delivered and never see me again."
Hugo looked up at her, still too afraid to believe, to dream he could be delivered. He nodded, indicating his willingness to comply.
"That's good, Hugo, good," Morgaine said in a soothing tone. "I want you to think, Hugo, think about the collective unconscious. Imagine if you were able to link a group of people into a shared dream state, how would those two things be used?"
Hugo listened to her and then considered it carefully before answering. "Theoretically, you could use the collective unconscious as a vehicle to link the minds in a shared dream state. You would need to use very primal concepts or images to link them, but as I said I believe it is possible, but with one major problem."
"What would that be?"
"An energy source," Hugo offered, "to achieve any significant results you would need to keep the group in that shared dream state for a considerable time. To sustain a connection like that would require huge amounts of psychic energy. As far as I know there are no sources for that kind of energy, in that sort of quantity available."
Morgaine smiled, realizing that was why the Old Ones were being used, yet there had to be more to it than simply stealing energy from them.
"Do you know of the Old Ones, Hugo? Cthulhu?" she asked. Hugo cringed at the very name, a chill running down his back. Suddenly he was more frightened of the lady in the golden mask.
"Hugo?" she said, with a little more menace behind it.
"Yes," he was barely able to whisper.
"They would have the energy necessary, wouldn't they?"
"Yes, but the danger is too great!"
"Why do you say that, Hugo?"
"The Necronomicon, it warns of waking the Old Ones." Hugo said, becoming more animated by the second.
"Settle down, Hugo, no one said anything about waking the Old Ones," Morgaine said to him. "Imagine instead if they were to siphon off energy from those Old Ones, what could be accomplished with that energy?"
"Transformation on an unparalleled scale, but it's too dangerous," he said, almost as a plea.
"Perhaps, but there must be a way," Morgaine offered.
"No, please, Mistress, let me ask but one question," Hugo begged.
"You may ask."
"The group in the shared dream state, do they call themselves believers?"
"Yes, how did you know that, Hugo," she asked, surprised by him.
"They are the Cult of Cthulhu, Mistress! Their role is to wake the Old Ones! It's written "that when the stars are right for the Old Ones, some force outside must serve to liberate their bodies. The secret priests will take great Cthulhu from his tomb and he will resume his rule of Earth. Then mankind will become as the Old Ones; free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and killing and reveling in joy. The liberated Old Ones will teach their followers, these believers, new ways to shout and kill and revel and enjoy themselves, and all the earth will flame with a holocaust."
"The end of this world," Morgaine said out loud, as the enormity of what was going on hit her.
'The end of everything, Mistress," Hugo added.
"And where would energy crystals fit into all of this, Hugo?"
"Crystals? I'm sorry, Mistress, please, don't punish me, I don't know of what you speak!" Hugo groveled.
A mystery, Morgaine thought to herself. It was time she spoke to this General in person.
"You have done well, Hugo, and earned your deliverance. Farewell," she said and then disappeared from his cell. Later the guards would notice Hugo was laughing and crying, in sheer joy and relief. They put it done as just another nut going further off the deep end.
Metropolis
A week had passed and things had progressed between Zatanna and Clark. What had started, as a chance late night visit had quickly become an almost nightly ritual. The first few nights were spent talking, laughing and listening to music. Somewhere in the middle of the week a kiss had happened, and then another. If you were to ask them, they would have different versions about who made the first move, but the end result would be the same. The music was still playing, but instead of words, they were communicating in a more basic way. Each night seemed to get later and later, as they spent more time in each other's arms. Both of them knew where this progression was heading, but so far they'd been able to pull back at the last minute. Tonight, the one-week anniversary of her coming to his apartment, Clark had met Zatanna at the stage door after her show. He took her out for drinks, even a little dancing, but in the end they found themselves back in his apartment. She was currently straddling his lap, arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. Both their shirts were open all the way down the front, and Clark's fingers skimmed against her skin, as he returned her kiss with equal excitement. Zatanna practically purred as she let her hands roam over his muscular chest, her lips following the line of his collarbone as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders. Tonight, she didn't want to stop as they had every time before. Tonight, her level of arousal was just too great to not take that next exciting step. Every action and moan signaled to him her desire and while he was feeling the same urges, Clark worried about whether he could maintain control if things went further. The effect Zatanna was having on him made controlling himself tenuous at best and that small doubt was something he couldn't risk. With a groan of frustration he finally managed to pull back from her. They were both breathing hard, almost panting.
"Zee, Zee, I think we should probably think about slowing down," he whispered to her.
"Slowing down wasn't the direction I was thinking about, Clark," she replied, her voice throaty and full of desire.
"It-It's just that before, oh, before things get-get out of, oh, control, there's something issues we need to discuss," he barely managed to get out, as her lips and fingers were driving him crazy.
"If this is about condoms, Clark, I'm going to scream. I've got it covered, okay," she whispered, nibbling on his ear. Clark actually laughed out loud at this and gave her a hug.
"I don't think that quite covers it, but it's good to know you were thinking about it," he laughed.
"Apparently, everyone thinks I need them," she said, giggling a little herself.
"Everyone?"
"Long story," she replied, shaking her head, 'I know what's concerning you, Clark. You're worried about your powers and possibly hurting me, right?"
"Yes," he admitted, looking into her eyes.
"Well, I've been thinking about it," she started, but then noticed he gave her a look. "What you're saying you haven't?"
"No, definitely have given it some serious thought," Clark groaned as she seductively shifted on his lap.
"Well, I know at least one part of you is interested," she teased.
"That tends to happen when a gorgeous, half naked woman is sitting on my lap," he groaned. Zatanna smiled at his words and then continued.
"Clark, I know you don't like magic, but do you trust me," she seriously asked.
"Yes, Zee, I do," he honestly said, kissing her on the lips.
"Well, I think I know a way where your problem won't be a issue. Do you want to try?"
"You're not going to change me into someone else or something, are you," he asked.
"No, unless you want me to," she replied with a smile.
"No, no thank you," he shook his head.
"Listen, I know under a red sun you have the normal strength of everyone else, right?"
"Yes."
"So your super strength is lessened by the amount of red light you're under. What if only in your apartment, I made the light red sunlight?"
"I suppose, but it would have to be awfully strong, wouldn't it?"
"No, I don't think so. I'm a being of magic, Clark, a little stronger than an average human woman. You wouldn't be able to leap tall buildings or anything, but you'd be stronger than the average human man," she explained.
"So I wouldn't have to worry about accidentally hurting you," he nodded, understanding where she was going with this.
"Yes, do you want to give it a try," she asked, nervous about his answer.
"How soon can we begin," he smiled, pulling her closer to him. A thrill went through Zatanna as she leaned back and raised her arms over her head. Her tux shirt fell open and Clark found himself looking directly at her breasts barely contained in her lace brassiere.
"I really, really hope this works," he absently said to himself. Chanting a few words, Zatanna waved her hands in the air and then looked down at Clark. At first he didn't feel any different and thought the spell wasn't working, but slowly he began to feel some of his super power drain away. It was the debilitating red sunlight he'd been subject to after the Darkseid incident, it was more like turning the volume down on a stereo. His powers were still there, just to a lesser degree.
"Well," Zee said, smiling down at him.
"Where were we," Clark smiled, easing her closer as he kissed her passionately.
"I think I mentioned something about the opposite of slowing down," she sultrily whispered to him, returning his kiss with equal desire.
London
The General looked down at his handkerchief in disgust, seeing the blood dotting the white fabric. His illness was getting worse and he could feel it stripping away his strength by the day. What a cosmic joke that he, once the ruler of worlds, would slowly be beaten from inside his own body. Cancer was such a jarring word and it fit so well the creeping death it brought. It will not beat him, he told himself, there was still time. Once the crystals were fully charge the transformation could begin. Visions of his former self swirled through the General's mind. He was pulled from them by the sounds of battle in the corridor. A moment later, one of the guards came hurdling into the room, a blast of magically energy engulfing him. The man writhed and screamed before finally collapsing into unconsciousness. The General looked up to see Morgaine le Fey step into the room.
"Such a dramatic entrance," he said.
"We need to talk, General, I know what madness you are planning," she replied, walking towards him.
"Do you indeed? Are you sure?"
"Don't play games with me, mortal. I could end your life as easily as I did this guard," she warned.
"That would be a mistake on your part, Morgaine," the General calmly said to her. He surprised her in his calm. She could see no fear in his eyes, just a cold, distant intelligence.
"I'm beginning to wonder who's madder you or the boy? Do you truly think you can control, the uncontrollable?"
"What is it you think you know, Morgaine," he asked.
"See if this sounds familiar, General," she said, stepping within a few feet of him. "Your believers? They wouldn't happen to be the Cthulhu Cult, would they? The secret priests foretold to be the ones to raise the Old Ones?"
"Yes, they would," the General easily answered, leaning on his hand just looking at her.
"Have you any concept of what will happen if they succeed?" she gasped.
"I would imagine Hell on Earth, a total collapse into chaos among other things."
"And this is what you seek? Are you mad or insane?"
"Neither, I assure you. I have a plan," he told her simply.
"A plan? Ha! What fools you mortals be. You sow the wind and will reap the whirlwind."
"Very poetic," he snidely replied. "You're an immortal, yet you think in such two dimensional terms. Expand your mind, Morgaine, think of alternatives. Everything you say is true, if you accept your first statement that I want to wake the Old Ones. I do not."
"Than why, General, explain it to me," she replied.
"You joined this scheme in hopes of siphoning off enough energy to replace Merlin's magic. Why think so small? There are hundreds of dream tanks scattered throughout this world. The chaos you focus for us, excites the sleeping Old Ones. Our dreamers siphon off more and more of their power each day. They can only be awakened by an outside force, which I intend to see doesn't happen. Their power is beyond anything this or any other world has known. Let your mind consider what could be done with that kind of power."
"The crystals, those are yours, I take it," she asked.
"Yes, like you I need the energy to recharge them. Through the crystals I will transform myself into what I once was and then I will transform this world," he told her.
"And I thought young Nathan was the mad one," she bitterly replied. "General, what a fitting name for you. An old man trying to relive past glories, pushing pawns around a board. Only this game is far more dangerous than you can ever imagine. Tell me, General, in that other life you spoke of before, what name did you have besides The General?"
The older man was standing now, his face in the shadows. He took a step towards her, the light revealing his now intense eyes.
He spoke only one word, "Zod."
