Epilogue
Michael had returned to Hekapoo's. It wasn't so hard. A minute after falling asleep, he appeared in the middle of her atrium, moving around and investigating his surroundings. The same non-Euclidean structures, Egyptian/Babylonian aesthetics, and Garden of Eden-esque tree growing under the skylight. The young man made his way to the tree, staring as it bore the strange fruit from before. Hekapoo was waiting underneath, greeting him and patting an excellent plot of grass for him to sit.
"It's been a while, hasn't it, cutie? I'm glad to see you still alive," Hekapoo winked as Michael plopped right next to her, her voluptuous body jiggling in her tight yellow dress as she scooted over.
With those womanly curves, he wondered if that dress was genuine or painted against her furry skin, but ogling wasn't why he was there.
"I saw the whole ordeal you and your friends went through, and I have to say that for an Earth Prime yokel who got sucked into a problem he never asked, it was so hardcore," Hekapoo commented, flashing a toothy grin ecstatically. She followed it by pointing her index finger and swinging her arm in emphasis. "I mean, not only did you and your friends take on one of the biggest banes in dimension travel, but you specifically beat the crap out of twenty guys at once. Not only did you get thrown into Limbo, but basically gave death the middle finger, came back from the grave, and rescued those girls, despite almost dying again from severe blood loss. Now that's the kind of Rambo shit not even Marco would do, both in his teens and buff self."
"Wait. You saw me in Limbo?"
Hekapoo nodded. "My powers of dimensional observation are not limited to the world of the living. I can also transverse the realms of both the afterlife and pre-life, but those are places I have to be extra careful. The Boss up stairs is very particular about outsiders peeking into worlds outside of my jurisdiction. Still, back to the main topic," she leaned closer while Michael nearly jolted, feeling smothered as Hekapoo gave a playful embrace, though making sure her horns didn't poke the young man, whispering softly in his ear. "That was the best show I've seen in thousands of years; so good it got my motor running hot, and if you keep it up, I might even fall for that cute, little face of yours."
Her yellow gaze refused to leave him, the most bedroom of eyes ever made, and a sly smirk added to boot as Hekapoo motioned closer. Her mouthwatering bosom pressed, giving Michael a nice feel of how soft they were, the young man smiling back, facing slightly turning red. The two were lying underneath a tree, enjoying privacy while being intimate. It was downright romantic, but Michael's intentions said otherwise.
Michael inclined back, shaking his head. "Yeah, I bet, but I don't think you invited me here for a booty call, and I certainly didn't come here for a recap," he remarked, his smirk remaining. "So, before you send me back to the hospital, you mind telling me why I'm here in the first place?"
Hekapoo smirked, nodding. "Very well. I brought you here to talk about the prophecy and what that old windbag Omnitraxus Prime left out. If I'm correct, the part about the oncoming storm happened, but as a double meaning. Not only to those flatfoots swarming into your town but to the breach hitting your world," she explained grimly. Michael leaned on the grass, taking it all in with hands behind his head. "And that's where the rest of the prophecy comes into play. Because of the tachyon energy they produced, whether intentional or not, Breachers are bound by the red string of fate, destined to attract each other."
Staring, Michael arched a brow.
"Is that a JoJo reference, or something?"
Hekapoo shrugged, and both hands raised casually at her sides. "I guess? I never got into that series, more of an Ouran High School Club girl, myself. But we're getting a little off-topic."
"Sorry," Michael smiled meekly.
Hands in his pockets, the young man stood up and walked a few steps forward, contemplating as he stared at the abyss in the wall's crevasse (quite literally). Hekapoo was not taking her eyes off while lying to the side leisurely, liking what she saw below the backside. She repositioned as the young man turned back, resuming her veneer of seriousness as the young man spoke up.
"So, what do I do now? I can warn the girls and get ourselves prepared, but I don't think that'll be enough," Michael sighed, a sad edge slipping from his voice.
"Preparation is the first step, but figuring out the rest is all on you, Michael. I can't help you on this mission, but that doesn't mean I won't lend you some sagely wisdom. Use whatever your instincts tell you and be creative. And don't forget that you have people who love you and will do anything to keep you safe, and you do the same as well," Hekapoo addressed, expression narrowing. Her figure motioned upright, and she strolled to the young man, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly. "Besides, there will be some weird and powerful beings popping into your dimension. You're going to need all the help you can get if you're going to get through this massive shit storm."
Evening fell on the city of Charlotte. The streets were empty, neither people nor cars about. All was quiet, saved for a single alleyway as a young man with a mohawk bellowed in ecstasy, getting the best fellatio in his life.
All he did was take a shortcut, getting home from work. Sitting at his computer and jerking off was on his mind when a beautiful woman approached, hips swaying hypnotically. He was speechless and looked like a deer in headlights, which made her more interested in him.
To describe her best, sexy as hell, was an understatement. The woman had long white hair with pink highlights stopping at her waist. A body built like an hourglass, she wore a form-fitting monochrome tube top with Xs and Os all over, white gloves, and black thigh-high boots with hearts binding her arms and legs, showing off curves in all the right places. With that outfit and figure, he was definitely in the presence of a supermodel, no doubt about it. However, what surprised the young man the most was her pinkish-red skin, horns, wings, and tail. From her whole look, she looked like a demon (how did she make her nose so flat?). At first, he assumed she was probably a cosplayer leaving a convention, but he was incredibly off the mark.
When she offered to suck him off for five bucks, no strings attached, he thought it was one hell of a deal. A loser like him dressing like a punk rocker, getting it on with a perfect ten? He felt like the luckiest man in the world. There was no way he was missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. So, he accepted, handing her the money, and the fun started immediately.
"Don't worry, baby. I'll be nice and gentle. Once I'm done, you'll feel like you've died and gone to cloud nine," the demoness said in a low, sultry voice.
He pressed his back against the brick wall and chuckled, watching as she crouched down and unzipped his skinny jeans, fishing his hardened cock out. Suffice it to say, she was pretty impressed, flashing a hungry look in her yellow eyes, and the young man nearly fainted from the touch.
Her black lips pecked against the tip of his dick, sending surges of pleasure throughout his body and making his knees quake. Holy shit. Talk about almost fainting just from a simple kiss. It's been so long since you last fucked. This girl almost got you falling to your knees and barely drained your balls. It's pathetic, man! You must hold out longer if you want this girl to suck you off properly.
The young man gripped the wall, digging his fingers as the woman engulfed the head. As she pushed down to the shaft, that's when the young man braced himself, getting hit with an unnatural wave. Warm wetness engulfed his rock-hard cock as the lusty demoness bobbed up and down, her index finger and thumb clutching the base of the shaft.
Desire overwhelmed the young man as the woman's moans grew louder. She moved her free hand down and undid her top, exposing her mouthwatering tits to the elements before moving between her panties, fingers working in and out of her womanhood, dripping wet with arousal. The intimate slurping and moving caused the punkish young man to be lost, the fantastic night breeze disappearing in the alleyway. So lost that the man was completely unaware of his detriment until it was too late.
The troubled young man snapped out of his daze as he weakly looked down at himself, seeing his whole body starting to wither and turn gangly purple. There was nothing left of him but skin and bones. His member remained intact, throbbingly rigid, and full of vigor. It was as if all his energy, life force, and strength were being redirected and concentrated in one place. As the demon woman continued to bob her head, sucking up and down, he was ready to explode at any given minute. He tried to stop her, but the young man was too weak. He could barely move his arm as the demon woman proceeded to phase two.
Slowly, the demoness trailed her lips to the base and the head. She moved away; her lips made a popping sound at the tip. Pushing her hands to her impressive rack, she sandwiched the man's member between her cleavage.
"There we go, baby. Doesn't this feel good?" The demoness purred, cracking a cheeky smile with bedroom eyes beaming.
She massaged the rod, and her tongue gave the tip a nice, circular lick, the withered husk of the man emitting one last pleasurable moan. He should have come moments ago, his rod already crimson red and ready to erupt. Unlucky for him, the succubus made sure he didn't. Not yet, anyway.
The succubus needed to make sure he was ripe. It would taste more delicious when every last drop was squeezed. Nevertheless, it was time to let him go and put the poor fool out of his misery. So, with a blink of her eyes and one last tongue-lashing, she finally set the young man free. His rod exploded as the white-hot liquid poured into the demoness's mouth. Some of it fell to her breasts, which she leisurely licked clean, savoring the taste. Sweet euphoria coursed throughout his body, and so was the sweet release of death.
After slurping up the last bit of his fluids, the woman stood up and gradually made her way out of the alley as the withered carcass behind crumbled to ash, blowing away in the wind. She blew a kiss, jokingly thanking him for a good time.
Walking down the street, she huffed and clicked her tongue. The aftertaste set in. "Satan's balls, I can't believe I had to stoop that low just to get a recharge. The first guy I run into, and he didn't have enough juice in his sausage to keep me going, and he certainly wouldn't be worth getting on all fours for," she complained in a low tone, her suggestive mood changing into a dour demeanor.
Verosika Put the five in her pockets and grabbed her heart-shaped shades, donning them while a wicked grin leered. "Still, I can't deny he wasn't a good midnight snack, and don't worry, Verosika. In this new world you're stuck in, plenty of treats will be in the candy store."
She took out a flask, taking a swig when an explosion occurred. On the other side of the city, a small ball of fire blasted into the open air while the shockwave spread throughout a whole block, car alarms going off simultaneously. Turning left, Verosika quickly shifted her gaze in that very direction, startled enough to snap out of her lustful merriment. She watched the fireball dissipate, seeing it leave behind a mushroom cloud. Her shock grew into amazement. All she could think at that moment was what could have caused such a blast.
"Well, can't hurt to find out, will it?" Verosika giggled.
With curiosity and excitement getting the best of her, the succubus put her flask away and spread her wings out, almost encompassing her body. She built up momentum before taking flight. Souring over the city, Verosika headed to the source of the explosion, the party girl in her itching for fun.
A man lay on the pavement, knocked out as a dilapidated building was set ablaze. Groaning, he regained consciousness and stood up. After dusting off the debris on his trench coat and fixing his fedora, the solemn man turned to see his handiwork, the black splotches on his clothed mask convulsing in the light. A real Rorschach of a face that one had, his mind analyzing while blood-curdling screams echoed in the flames.
Rorschach's journal. Date unknown. Woke up in strange city, have no clue how I got here. Last I remembered being dissipated by Doctor Manhattan, bit by bit and molecule by molecule. Back together in one piece. Must look into it later. Where I was now, no different than New York, it wreaks of decay and unholy prostitution. The very disease that corroded America's crown jewel now here also. Time to go to work, as always. A few days after arriving, I tracked down a drug den. Crooks and pederasts scrawling like rats, cooking and peddling very poison that rots society from the inside out. They saw me walk in. Saw my face. They roared and shouted, south of the border Chico language. Voices raising like wolves, cursing in tongues before lifting guns. Didn't do them any good, regardless.
Running out of the fire was an embroiled man, screaming in pain. He collapsed by Rorschach's feet, begging for help as he slowly died. With his hands in his pockets, the indignant vigilante ignored him and walked away, heading uptown, resuming his inner monologue.
I attacked, they opened fire. Easy to dodge when scum can't even shoot, tools lying around became their undoing. One by one, all dropped like flies. A Jackson Pollock of blood and brain matter painted the walls, brightened up the whole room while chemists scattered for life. And with one stray bullet, everything went up in smoke. The very immolated baptism consumed all around me, cleansing the disease and cauterizing the infected wound. Made it out alive. Barely. The druggies not so lucky; not even the chemists. No mercy for leeches. Why not? Because there is only good and evil, and evil must be punished. Never compromising!
Turning right, Rorschach was heading towards a convenience store when the sound of servos hissing from behind. Rorschach looked over his shoulder, seeing the visage of a man walking out of the blazing inferno. The alerted vigilante stood on guard, fists clenched as the visage approached closer, his body stiff and with an inhumanly robotic demeanor.
"Halt! You are under arrest!"
Stepping further into the light, Rorschach wasn't sure what he was seeing. In front of him, the man stood tall, towering over the vigilante. He wore gray plated armor, and a visor helmet covered his eyes. From the torso and below, the rest of him was primarily black. Despite appearing mechanical, its aesthetic design resembled a police officer, a Robocop, to be droll. The only part of his body that convinced Rorschach it was at least human was his mouth, expressionless and stoic.
Rorschach said nothing, merely hummed gruffly.
The armored man got a reasonable distance, reached his side, opened a compartment, and a pistol protruded. Grabbing it with quick speed, he aimed and prepared to shoot. Rorschach had never seen one so slick and futuristic from all the guns he encountered. That worried him as his posture changed, getting ready for whatever the tin can was about to throw.
"You are charged on the grounds of arson, destruction of property, and murder of the first and second degree," Robocop listed, his voice devoid of emotion as he and Rorschach circled face to face. "Come quietly, or there will be trouble."
For Rorschach, trouble was his specialty. The obstinate vigilante sprinted to the side, and Robocop immediately opened fire. Each bullet rapidly shot out of the chamber as Robocop attempted to hit his target. Luckily, Rorschach was quick enough to outmaneuver. Instead, the bullets hit the parked cars, ricocheting off windshields and metal shells. He quickly ducked into an alleyway and took cover.
With his middle age catching up to his physique, it would have been impossible, the aches and pains in his joints slowing him. Even so, he managed to evade each round. After giving himself a once over, he noticed the bloodstain on his pants leg. It was nothing too damaging. A stray bullet merely grazed him. Rorschach let out another inaudible growl, peering out while the robotic law enforcer cautiously approached.
Let the enemy draw blood? Rookie mistake, Rorschach. Rorschach crouched and waited, body tensing as he looked around for a weapon to use. Can't make same mistake. Never again. You want to send the Tin Man back to Oz? Need to be quick. Need to be smart.
Though it might be a long shot, duking it out in the streets against a trigger-happy cyborg was not on Rorschach's list of experiences. Still, he fought against the world's smartest man and confronted a blue man-turned-living God. So, how hard could this fight be for him?
As Robocop encroached on his target, Rorschach retaliated. Moving to the side, he grabbed the lid from a tin trashcan, tossing it like a Frisby as the collision momentarily obstructed Robocop's vision. That gave the masked vigilante enough time to develop the next attack. He grabbed a broken bottle, charged forwardly with murderous intent, and as Robocop regained equilibrium, he shattered the bottle on his upper side, successfully stabbing. Swiftly, the fidgeting cyborg swung and knocked Rorschach on his rear, but he could not shoot him dead.
Robocop analyzed the damage. The wires in his arm were severed, sparks flying out of his upper arm. Some of the glass shards remained, fluid trickling as the cyborg switched his gun to the other hand. He turned and aimed when the vigilante landed a sucker punch and then a haymaker to the visor. Rorschach's knuckles grazed against the rigid, metallic shielding, his lavender gloves providing little protection. And with each blow, his face winced in pain behind his mask while bones cracked.
Nonetheless, it was enough to push the metal monstrosity back, brazenly disorienting him while leaving dents. Having enough, the cyborg cocked his functioning arm and landed a single punch, hitting Rorschach in the face and sending him a foot away. The vigilante stumbled aback but regained his equilibrium, quickly dodging as Robocop fired a few rounds. Seeing no other option available, Rorschach brought out his ace in the hole. He reached into his trench coat and drew his grappling hook gun, its bulky exterior and carbon gas tank easily slipping out. The vigilante aimed and like a harpoon with its sharpened tip, he fired the hook straight at the cyborg's chest, which he evaded and resumed fire.
Verosika got front-row seats for the entire fight by swimming down the sidelines. She peeked over a brick wall as the robot and the vigilante fought relentlessly. Rorschach eventually halted their brawl; the police sirens erupting in the distance was a sign of egress. As Robocop remained still and waited, the succubus watched as Rorschach reloaded his grappling gun and fired, launching himself at a nearby rooftop.
Verosika became trepidatious, sunglasses slipping from her buzzing eyes while sweating bullets, ducking, and trembling. Holy shit, girl! You've seen some crazy stuff, but this is fucking nuts! Just what kind of world did you land yourself in?!
Just what kind of world did we land ourselves in?!
In a dark and windowless room, five people sat before a projection screen, and the outline of their silhouettes was shown. The four were female while the fifth was male, his curly hair and another long, thin hair standing out the least while the others held more characteristic features.
The entire fight at the fairground was on the screen, recapping the whole ordeal clearly and precisely. Except it wasn't the actual fight. Many of the scenes displayed Michael and the girls battling the extraction team. However, it was heavily edited, and CGI was used in every scene. Each fight looked bloody and gruesome. The trio were portrayed with bloodlust in their eyes as the soldier stood no chance, dying brutally on the battlefield. The five watched in horror and could not look away, completely immersed in the film until it finally ended.
"…and now you're all caught up," said Agent Jones. His appearance the most revealed as he stood in front of the projector, frowning stoically with hands behind his back.
"And that's why you summoned us?" Questioned the tall one with the square afro. Her English-sounding accent overlapped an emotionless tone. "Your world is being terrorized by superhuman delinquents, lording their powers over this Earth's denizens, and you want us to stop them."
Agent Jones nodded, lying. "That is correct. Seeing that we're dealing with otherworldly criminals and reprobates, we believe that tip the scales in our favor. You have dealt with such ordeals before, so it's logical to have you all as the best pick."
"But if that's the case, then why not handle it yourself? You have the technology to summon us, why not take more drastic measures in subduing these three?" The svelte, pointy-nosed one said, trying to find holes in the agent's statement without sounding too condescending.
"Oh, we have, believe me. Our agency's staff are the most well-equipped and fully trained, being handpicked from the most high-ranking military branches all over the world. Nonetheless, despite our job is to handle threats from dangerous breachers, these three are unpredictable, almost to a sociopathic level," the agent explained as he leaned against a large desk, cleaning his sunglass frames. "That's why my superiors proposed a more 'outside-the-box' approach. You know, fighting fire with fire, and since you have handle threats like this, it's an appropriate strategy that cannot be denied."
"And if we take care of your problem, you'll send us home?" the short one crossed her arms, glaring skeptically.
"Scouts' honor." the agent smiled, almost singsong.
The lights turned on, and the whole room was visible. Its eggshell walls and linoleum floors brightened under the fluorescent lighting. Standing out of his seat, the young man with curly black hair gradually approached. He adjusted his pink jacket, the yellow star on his black shirt flashing prominently. Sitting beside him, the beautiful Indian girl reached her hand out, trying to stop him while the other, more colorful women observed, remaining on standby. The agent held his deception pretty well behind his façade. The boy and his companions could see right through it. All five had met plenty like him before, lying and deceiving while having the group lowering their guard right before striking. Regardless, this asshole had the means of returning them home. Not agreeing to the agents' demands was off the table as he relaxed his balled-up fists.
The Agents' shit-eating grin grew, looking down at the young man. "So, what do you say, Steven Universe? Are you here to save the day, or what?"
Steven took a deep breath and glared at the agent dead in the eye. "Tell us what you need us to do and got yourself a deal."
"Alright, that should do about that."
Standing on a ladder prompted on the wall, Winston put the finishing touches in the wiring system overhead. He wiped his forehead and turned around, looking down as Egon was tinkering with the control on the other side.
"Light it up, Egon!"
The spectacled scientist complied, nodding. With a blank expression, he methodically hit the right buttons. The lights and computer monitors came on in a flash, no buzzing or flickering. The large modems against the walls blinked rapidly as Ray kept tabs on the processing feed. He smiled and wrote down on his clipboard, keeping his eyes on the newly installed containment unit.
"Alright! The Ghostbusters' second base of operation is now up and running. We'll might get an earful from the town's local government since we're technically pirating their energy, though," Ray admitted, talking to Venkman as he napped in the breakroom, yawning.
Taking up a more supervisory role than the others, Venkman lounged in his chair, feet on the table with his hands behind his back.
"Hey, whatever works as long as we don't pay the electricity bill," Peter remarked half-heartedly. "I'm just glad we finally got a place to stay. It's not as expensive as our old place, but it'll do for now. Plus, it beats staying in the Ecto-1 and is less cramped."
Ray smirked, turning to Venkman in disbelief. "I can't believe you were able to get that loan to buy this place. I was sure the bank was going to say 'no,' and close the door in your face."
Pete shrugged, smiling while bragging. "Hey, what can I say? Sometimes, good luck just comes my way. Well, that, and the fact Bill Murray and I almost share the same account number, helped too, though I wished they pick someone more good-looking to play me," he disappointedly muttered at the end before returning to lounging. "Anyways, now that everything is set up, all we can do is relax for the rest of the night."
Egon chimed in, his voice sounding slightly less monotone, almost surprised. "Resting and relaxing will have to wait, Peter. Although the data is incomplete, I'm picking up a huge influx of tachyon particles from the PKE Reader."
Egon turned the knob from clockwise to counterclockwise, altering the frequency of the PKE Reader as Ray and Peter listened, knowing that it was clearly necessary. Wiping his hands after finishing setting up, Winston tossed the rag on the ground and waltzed into the breakroom, joining the other Ghostbusters. The correct setting was found when the device in hand started erratically beeping, and to the Ghostbusters, that's never a good sign. Egon adjusted his glasses, and the very reaction fascinated him to the point of jubilation.
"And from what I gather, we're about to face an extradimensional storm of seismic proportions, and from the looks of it, something powerful is coming through as we speak," Egon continued as his friends stared, dread almost looming over as the genius rushed to the newly installed computer.
Ray arched a brow, getting up out of his chair. "And what, in the name of God, does that mean, Dr. Spangler? Are we dealing with a ghost because if it is, then right after we set up, I'm sending you my two weeks' notice while I'm off on vacation," Ray scoffed, a mix of frustration and sarcasm in his tone. He tried lightening up the room, but his friends weren't amused.
Egon arched a brow at Peter, shifting back to the PKE Reader, "Poor attempts at humor aside, Venkman. We're dealing with what I can surmise is the vanguard of the storm, a being so powerful, it's leading the charge, and its destination is right in this sleepy, little mountain town."
On the outskirts of Boone, a portal opened on a grassy hill. The blue and orange vortex splits through the air, ripping and contorting. A lone hooded figure walked out, her red dress fluttering in the wind while holding an owl-headed staff in her left hand to keep her balance. As they stared at the city overhead, a small, impish creature stood on her shoulders. The top of his head was a bull skull, while the rest of its body was covered in gray and black fur. The yellow of his eyes shifted from the town to his master and caretaker.
"So, you think Luz is down there? It's kind of drabby for her tastes," the imp commented as the hooded woman nodded in agreement.
"Well, you're not wrong there, King, but I know our girl's down there," the woman reassured, her tone tired and slightly sassy. She grabbed the necklace around her neck, the crystal pointing forward and glowed. "The tracker crystal doesn't lie. Trust me. Making it from her toenails wasn't easy or sanitary, but it's paying off."
"What do you mean 'easy,' Eda? I was the one who had to pick and sort them out while you lazed around," King protested, receiving a dismissive wave.
"Semantics, King. Semantics," Eda scoffed.
The woman gripped the rims of her hood, her right hand a complete prosthetic made from dark wood with gold accents. The hood was pulled down as the face of a middle-aged woman properly took in her surroundings, her big silver-grayish hair puffing out while her heterochrome eyes lowered. With a tap from her staff, the piece of long wood floated off the ground. She hopped on the front, her companion in the back.
A smile flashed from ear to ear, showing her single gold fang. "Come on, King. Let's go find our girl and bring her back home," she continued before flying off into the night, soaring over the university and then to the residential areas.
A/N: Hey, everyone. This is Kman134. I'm here with the epilogue of Intruders from the Other Side. Sorry it took so long, but I got it finished, and I can finally close the book on Volume 1. However, let me just warn you that this epilogue was a massive roller coaster, putting what will come in future events. Anyways, I hope you like it, and please leave some reviews.