Tales of the Wheeler Family

by the Mandalorian terminator

Happily married Mike and El Wheeler are invited to attend a school reunion back in Hawkins with the rest of the Party. While in Hawkins they each must confront their past as they seek to unravel a web of plots and plans - some old, some new - that seek to destroy not just Hawkins but the world itself. Set in 2005

18. Chapter 18 Killer Bob

Chapter 18: Killer Bob

Author Notes:

What is this, I hear you cry? A new chapter, barely two months after the last? Yes, you lucky people, that is exactly what you're getting. I had a lot of this written up, and filled in the gaps…all five hundred odd words of them. In fact this chapter was supposed to be part of the previous chapter but then that last chapter would be 50 or so more chapters long so I decided to make it a separate chapter.

I want to apologize for the long wait for this chapter. I just haven't been able to gather the energy to finish it. I've been distracted by a mix of Andor, House of the Dragon, Rings of Power and George RR Martin level of writers block.

Also there is a LOT of lore details from the book series Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan in this chapter. I tried to condense the necessary back-story down as much as possible.

There is also information in this chapter ranging from Pennywise from Stephen King's book IT to the A Nightmare on Elm Street horror films to Bill Cipher from the animated TV show "Gravity Falls" and finally Bob from the TV show "Twin Peaks" so be warned this particular chapter is quite LONG.

Warning, there is a torture scene towards the end of the chapter that is rather sexually violent/graphic in nature. If reading this triggers or upsets you please skip reading near the end of this chapter.

As always, thank you very much for reading and please, please review!

Your reviews give me life! They give inspiration! And they make me want to keep writing for more than just myself! Thank you for your continued support and please enjoy!

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"Think, therefore, on revenge and cease to weep"

-William Shakespeare

"Some people just want to watch the world burn"

-Alfred Pennyworth "The Dark Knight"

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Bob, also known as Nyarlathotep, strode south on Mirkwood road that was the intersection of Cornwallis and Kerley and went past the Hawkins National Laboratory.

He walked rapidly, rundown boot heels clocking against the paved surface of the road, and if car lights showed on the horizon he faded back and back, down over the soft shoulder to the high grass where the night bugs made their homes . . .and the car would pass him, the driver perhaps feeling a slight chill as if he had driven through an air pocket, his sleeping wife and children stirring uneasily, as if all had been touched with a bad dream at the same instant.

He headed south, the worn heels of his sharp-toed cowboy boots clocking on the pavement; a tall man of no age in faded, pegged jeans and a denim jacket. His pockets were stuffed with fifty different kinds of conflicting literature-pamphlets for all seasons, rhetoric for all reasons. When this man handed you a tract you took it no matter what the subject: the dangers of atomic power plants, the role played by the International Jewish Cartel in the overthrow of friendly governments, the CIA-Contra-cocaine connection, the farm workers' union, the Jehovah's Witnesses (If You Can Answer These Ten Questions "Yes," You Have Been SAVED!), the Blacks for Militant Equality, the Kode of the Klan.

He moved on, not pausing, not slowing, but alive to the night. His eyes seemed almost frantic with the night's possibilities. There was a Boy Scout knapsack on his back, old and battered. There was a dark hilarity in his face, and perhaps in his heart, too, you would think-and you would be right. It was the face of a hatefully happy man, a face that radiated a horrible handsome warmth, a face with eyes that were deep black pools surrounded – totally surrounded, as Mussolini's were–by very clear whites. His ears looked almost pointed, adding to an animalistic quality. His black hair glistered so brightly it might have been painted on the skull. There was no fat on the big-boned frame, the muscles bulged under his blue shirt he was wearing. An aid to his athletic prowess was his hands. They were almost twice the normal size, even for a man of his statue.

Nyarlathotep hated having to walk the Earth manifested as a avatar, but had learned from his multiple visits to Earth that it was a necessity. To lure the humans into a false sense of security, one had to be like them. To look and sound like them. Nyarlathotep had plenty of experience with that. He vividly recalled when he had first come to Earth during the Third Dynasty of Egypt. He had taken the appearance of a tall, swarthy man and had wandered the earth, gathering legions of followers through his demonstrations of strange and seemingly magical instruments. (1)

Following that first experience on Earth, Nyarlathotep had taken to roaming the rest of the universe, visiting other worlds and, oftentimes with minimum ease, plunging those different civilizations into anarchy, chaos and destruction. One such occasion that had absolutely delighted him with the chaos and deaths he had played a hand in was when he visited an alternate Earth called the Westlands. (2)

It stretched for roughly 3,500 miles from a desert region called the Aiel Waste to the large body of water located to the west of the Westlands called the Aryth Ocean. It was mostly temperate, with hot summers in the southern regions and icy winters in the north. The continent consisted of several large plains (notably Almoth Plain, the Plains of Maredo, Caralain Grass, and the Plain of Lances) divided by extensive forests, marshes and several major mountain ranges, most notably the Mountains of Mist (named due to its ever-cloud-capped peaks) which divided the western coastal regions from the continental interior. The continent had no regularly-used name, with the term "Westlands" apparently used in Shara (as geographic shorthand) and "wetlands" by the Aiel (referring to the subcontinent's relative fertility). It was a land of merchants, mercenaries, travelling gleemen and bickering nobles. It was also the land where, according to legend, the Dragon would be Reborn.

Nyarlathotep had first visited the Westlands during the so-called Age of Legends—a time of peace, prosperity and advanced technology, made possible in large parts because of the Aes Sedai, servants of humanity who channelled Saidin and Saidar, the male and female halves of the One Power. This unique magical energy flowing through the True Source allowed them to heal wounds and illness, construct beautiful, nearly indestructible structures, perfect food production and perform many other incredible feats which eliminated poverty, hunger and homelessness around the world. Although evil, greed and selfishness did exist, it was exceedingly rare, as social and professional status was dependent on good works and how ones actions helped serve humanity.

Among their many great centres of learning, none were more prestigious then the University of Collam Daan and its research centre Sharom, a great floating sphere where a number of their top scientists including Beidomon and Mierin Eronaile, discovered the True Power, a new source of magical energy located beyond the Pattern of Reality, which could be accessed equally by both men and women, meaning it was free from the frustrating limitations of the One Power.

Eager to access this new source of magic, researchers drilled a small hole called the Bore, through the pattern, only to discover they made a terrible mistake, as the energy detected came from the Dark One Shail'tan, a primordial being of evil who stood in contrast to the Creator. (The Creator had made the world and then left humankind to make of it what they would, a heaven or a Pit of Doom by their choosing. The Creator had made many worlds, watched each flower and die, and gone on to make endless worlds beyond. A gardener did not weep for each blossom that fell.) Although the Bore was not big enough for the Dark One to escape his prison outside reality, it allowed him to directly touch and influence the world, creating a renaissance of greed, anger, jealousy and violence which swept across their lands.

Despite the immediate destruction of Sharom and Collam Daan, the full effects of the Dark One's corruption spread slowly, leading to the collapse of their near utopian civilization over the next century. With humanity made more susceptible to their evil impulses, many joined the Dark One, lured to his side with promises of immortality and greater prominence in the new world he would create. Ordinary humans who turned against the light were known as Friends of the Dark, while Aes Sedai traitors were called the Chosen and the Forsaken. These greater servants of evil were marked by the Dark One, which in addition to making all his minions obey them, meant he could find them wherever they went, never escaping his grasp.

Though some of these people immediately went over to the Shadow, bolstering their armies, others remained with the forces of light acting as spies and saboteurs, creating chaos and division among their ranks. The bravest, most ambitious and dedicated of these followers swore their oaths of allegiance directly to the Dark One by travelling to Shayol Ghul (once a tropical paradise that had since been corrupted by the Dark One and where the Creator had imprisoned him at the moment of creation), where the pattern of reality was thinnest, becoming the focal point of his power. Among the 29 Forsaken who were allowed to use the True Power, 13 survived beyond the Age, standing above the others in authority and ability, performing deeds of such malice and cruelty they were remembered for thousands of years.

Among the male chosen, there was Ishamael, Rahvin, Demandred, Sammael, Aginor, Balthamel, Asmodean and Ba'lal, while the females included Lanfear, Semirhage, Moghidean, Graendal and Mesaana.

After building up their forces, the Forsaken launched the War of the Shadow, also called the War of Power, a ten year conflict which devastated the world, nearly causing the total collapse of civilisation. Their ultimate goal was to release the Dark One from captivity so he could destroy all that was and in its place create a new world in his own image, where the Forsaken and Darkfriends would rule in his name.

Winning a number of early victories, the Dark One's armies conquered many territories where they ruled through terror and brutality. In addition to their human soldiers, their numbers were greatly augmented by Trollocs and other Shadowspawn, viscous monsters created and controlled by the Forsaken, whose sole purpose was to destroy and wage war for the Dark One. Though they were initially caught unaware, the forces of Light eventually organised themselves under the Dragon Lewis Therin Telamon, and started to push the enemy back, retaking some of their lost lands. In addition to being hindered by the martial prowess of Lewis Therin and his armies, the Dark Forces were afflicted by constant in-fighting, with their leaders and warriors engaged in an unending competition for supremacy as they sought to increase their personal power and authority. The Forsaken especially were always scheming against each other, hoping to be named Naebliss, or second in command to Shai'tan, leading to many of their deaths.

Despite the potential problems these internal struggles might have posed, the Dark One encouraged their rivalries as he wanted only the strongest under his command. Yet even so their disadvantage did not last long, and soon the forces of Darkness were once again on the offensive, with the armies of light experiencing their own problems, beset with betrayals, disorganisation, low morale and increased division among their leadership. Threatened by impending defeat, two major proposals to achieve victory were considered by the Aes Sedai in the Hall of Servants:

The first, advocated by Lewis Therin Telamon, was for the forces of light to attack Shayol Ghul, where 6 male and 7 female Aes Sedai would conduct a ritual to seal the bore with 7 cuendillar (3) which would cut off the Dark One's access to the world and ensure his indefinite imprisonment. However this idea carried enormous risk, as their failure to perfectly place these seals could actually release the Dark One completely, dooming the world.

The other proposal, supported primarily by the female Aes Sedai Latra Posae Concord, was to use a special ter'angreal and two powerful sa'angreal to create a secondary prison around the bore, temporarily cutting off the Dark One's influence until a more permanent solution was found. A staunch enemy of Lewis Therin's plan, Latra conspired against him by forming the Fateful Concord, where all the most powerful female Aes Sedai of the Hall made an agreement forbidding them from aiding his efforts.

Since the Dragon's plan required the use of both Saidin and Saidar, it was quickly shelved, and work began on Latra's proposal. Yet as the forces of Darkness continued to advance her approach suffered a severe setback, when the territory where they held the necessary Ter'gangreal was captured by the enemy.

Making matters worse, the regions which held the needed sa'angreal was also being threatened and on the cusp of falling to the Dark One. With Latra's proposal in jeopardy and all efforts to retrieve the Ter'gangreal failing, Lewis Therin again tried to advocate for his position, but the female Aes Sedai continued to oppose him, despite the fact they had no immediate alternative.

Seeing enemy armies closing in and total defeat fast approaching, the Dragon knew they could no longer wait, enacting his plan without the aid of female Aes Sedai. Accompanied by 113 of his closest supporters, called the Hundred Companions, and an honour guard of ten thousand warriors, Lewis Therin marched to Shayol Ghul, arriving at the same time the Dark One was holding a meeting with his 13 most powerful Forsaken.

Battling the armies of Darkness, Lewis Therin and his male Aes Sedai successfully completed their mission, by perfectly placing the seven cuendillar to close the bore and reseal the Dark One's prison. In fact, their efforts proved double successful, as they also managed to trap all 13 Forsaken, thereby eliminating the Dark One's greatest generals and supporters.

However, because there were no females present, the males were forced to exclusive use Saidin in their ritual, which meant directly touching the Dark One with this magical energy. This presented their enemy with a unique opportunity, and so he performed a counter-stroke, tainting the male half of the One Power with his corruption, ensuring that anyone who used Saidin from that point forward would go mad with an unyielding desire for chaos, destruction and violence.

Therefore, in addition to losing 45 of the Hundred Companions, and a great portion of their honour guard in the fighting, the rest of the male Aes Sedai including Lewis Therin went mad, causing massive destruction to the world in the wake of their victory. Although the Dark One was defeated, and his remaining armies were pushed back, scattered and destroyed by the forces of light, every wielder of Saidin left alive started to lose their sanity, resulting in devastating damage to lands and seas over the next 3 centuries, referred to as the Breaking of the World, which only ended when female Aes Sedai finished killing or gentling (4) the last of their male counterparts.

Nyarlathotep had, naturally, played two roles in the War of Power, one significant, the other small but no less important in the overall conflict. The significant one took place before the war had even began, Nyarlathotep, going by the name of Doctor Qyburn, (5) had made regular visits to the University of Collam Daan and its research centre Sharom to study and learn more about the history of the Westlands and to understand the One Power he had heard so much about since arriving.

As Doctor Qyburn he had over time struck up an acquaintance with researchers Beidomon and Mierin Eronaile and, after gauging the pair's desires for more recognition, had presented to the research centre a magical glass black ball, claiming that he had come across the ball after it had fallen from the sky and landed near his home (but in reality Nyarlathotep had created the object himself by combining his own magic from his world with the One Power of the Westlands). As predicted Beidomon and Mierin leaped at the chance to study this mysterious new object even deciding to use the ball, called Black Thirteen, to power the machine that the pair used to drill through the Pattern in order to reach this new source of power which turned out to be the Dark One's prison.

Exactly as Nyarlathotep had wanted.

Ever since he had first arrived in the Westlands Nyarlathotep had sensed a great power located beyond the Pattern of Reality and, as a newcomer to this world, had used his visits to the University of Collam Daan to learn all he could about this so-called Pattern of Reality. His research led to him uncovering vague mentions in long-forgotten history books of a Creator and the Dark One. Intrigued by what little he could find about the Dark One and delighting in the unimaginable death, destruction and chaos he would likely bring to this world should he escape from his prison, Nyarlathotep had formulated a plan to ensure just that. Masquerading as Doctor Qyburn and gaining the trust of Beidomon and Mierin had been the first part. The second had been the creation of the Black Thirteen (Nyarlathotep had imbued the ball with darkness and knew that it would in turn seek out anything of equal darkness to it) and presenting it to the two researchers, knowing full well that the True Power they had discovered was actually the Dark One's prison.

Unfortunately not everything had gone exactly as he had planned. The Dark One had not escaped his prison outside reality but the resulting hole allowed the Dark One to influence the world. The Dark One's influence and the War of Power that came as a result had, nevertheless, pleased Nyarlathotep. Just for fun, he had paid a visit to Beidomon as Doctor Qyburn after the fall and destruction of the research centre Sharom and not only did he reveal his true form but also told the grief-sicken researcher how he had actually created the Black Thirteen and that it was because of that that the Dark One's prison had been breached. Beidomon had then committed suicide in front of Nyarlathotep before he had gotten the chance to kill the researcher himself. Furious that the kill had been stolen from him, Nyarlathotep took Beidomon's body with him along with the notes and research Beidomon had concerning the One Power and burning the researcher's house to the ground as he left.

The other small but no less important role Nyarlathotep played began during the relatively early stages of the war. During his travels; he had come across Ishar Morrad Chuain, a famous biologist whose complete lack of empathy resulted in him performing a number of unauthorized, unethical experiments. When these experiments were discovered by the Hall of Power, he was sanctioned and forbidden to conduct any further genetic experimentation. This was unacceptable to him, and desiring more freedom to operate, he pledged to the Shadow during the War of Power. Upon meeting him, Nyarlathotep had discovered he shared in the man's interest for experiments and the two quickly struck up a partnership.

But while Morrad Chuain was content with his eventual creation of the human/animal hybrids of limited intelligence that could function as a shock-trooper and which bred at an astounding rate (these creatures became known as Trollocs and became the backbone of the Shadow's armies during the war), Nyarlathotep dismissed the Trollocs as "useless" and preferred to instead focus on experimentation with the One Power in a purely scientific context using the body of Beidomon as the test subject.

Then, by manipulating both the One Power and the True Power, Nyarlathotep had resurrected him. The enormity of the event had stunned Morrad Chuain into silence, but Nyarlathotep had carried on without assistance, again and again allowing Beidomon to die and return to life, until the man's organs had given out and Nyarlathotep had finally granted him everlasting death.

But having gained the power to keep another alive hadn't been enough for him. He had devoted himself to an even more unthinkable act: to bring into being a creation of his own. Not merely the existence of some hapless, mindless creature, but the birth of a magical being. The ability to dominate death had been a step in the right direction, but it wasn't equivalent to pure creation. And so, combining the One Power and the True Power along with his own magic and twisting the soul of a wolf, led to the creation of the Darkhounds. They were about the size of a small horse, weighing from 250-300 pounds.

Their saliva and blood, Nyarlathotep discovered, was both poisonous and corrosive, causing bruising and burns. If even a tiny amount of either were to touch the skin, the victim would die slowly and in great pain while large amounts would kill a human almost instantly. Nyarlathotep also discovered, through further tests, that Darkhounds were very difficult to kill, with the creatures not easily killed in short range attacks. He also found, much to his annoyance, that Darkhounds disliked rain and even running water would halt them in their tracks though once running rain would fail to stop them.

The Darkhounds and their many packs would be released into the wild by Nyarlathotep and would later be used by the Shadow in the years to follow.

Though the Dark One and Forsaken were gone, the problems they faced in sealing the bore meant the threat was not completely eradicated, and so prophecies emerged, including the Karaethon Cycle, which foresaw that the Shadow would one day return, as would the Dragon, reborn in a new body to again face off against this evil and save the world.

Nyarlathotep would spend the rest of his time during this era of peace disguised as a human avatar by the name of Maerlyn, pretending to be nothing more than a travelling gleeman. He would go from tavern to tavern, seemingly singing songs to those who would listen. In reality what the tavern onlookers thought was music they were listening to was, in fact, the magical incantation that would instantly sow anger, hatred and distrust amongst all the onlookers. By the time Maerlyn would leave these taverns everyone that had been inside would now either be dead or attempting to violently kill the other.

Maerlyn quickly gathered around him a group of dedicated followers; a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish, gravitating towards a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty. Indeed Maerlyn's reputation spread throughout the Westlands and soon enough the citizens of the Ten Nations spoke of him in hushed whispers as "the Ageless Stranger".

It would be the aftermath of the Trolloc Wars (6) that proved too much for what was left of the Ten Nations. While humanity had proved victorious destroying the armies of Shadowspawn and driving their shattered remnants back into the Great Blight, half had fallen during the war and the other half followed soon after. In their wake, twenty-nine new nations arose. Despite the best efforts of the Aes Sedai to keep the peace, the new nations were fractious, more prone to waging war with one another over minor border disputes. No second Compact arose to replace that of the preceding millennium, with each nation choosing instead to maintain a substantial standing army to answer any future Trolloc threat.

Nyarlathotep had taken full advantage of the demise of the Ten Nations, first by releasing a devastating plague known as the Black Fever throughout the Westlands and then through skilfully whispering into the ear of a charismatic nobleman from the nation of Darmovan who had declared himself the Dragon Reborn. Guaire Amalasan was a skilled diplomat, a canny tactician and possessed the common touch, winning the love of the people for his charitable acts during the worst of the plague. Tens of thousands flocked to his banner and he conquered much of the southern half of the continent in a war lasting four years, the War of the Second Dragon. The Aes Sedai, distracted by the plague, was slow to reach and when they did send half a dozen sisters to apprehend Amalasan, he was able to defeat them handily.

Nyarlathotep, now going by the name Kako Naso, had risen to the position of Hand of the King to Amalasan and used his powers of persuasion to subtlety bring Amalasan's prejudices and extremities out in full.

Amalasan, as with every false Dragon before him, knew that taking the Stone of Tear was vital to prove his claim. His armies laid siege to the Stone (then located in the nation of Moreina), but were unable to take it due to it being defended by almost forty Aes Sedai. Amalasan left a force behind to maintain the siege before marching north, intent on completing the conquest of the continent. However, in the foothills of the Maraside Mountains (on the modern southern border of Cairhien, then the border between Talmour and Tova), his plans unravelled. His forces met an army out of Shandalle and Tova led by the young, brilliant general Artur Paendag Tanreall, King of Shandalle, known as 'Hawkwing' for the speed with which he could move his armies. Despite outnumbering Hawkwing by 2-1, Amalasan was defeated by a desperate tactical gambit and captured by Aes Sedai sisters accompanying Hawkwing.

In order to hand the False Dragon over to the Aes Sedai for punishment, Hawkwing marched his forces to Tar Valon, yet this greatly offended the women of the White Tower, who accused him of breaking the law that forbade armies from entering their territory. The Aes Sedai who accompanied Hawkwing were punished by the White Tower for allowing this action and the King of Shandalle was then given 5 days to rest before departing, yet Tar Valon soon fell under attack by false dragon loyalists, with many claiming the Aes Sedai were forced to ask for assistance from Hawkwing and his army as Amalasan's supporters breached the Shining Walls and fought almost to the White Tower itself in an attempt to rescue him.

Hawkwing's troops engaged them in bloody street-to-street fighting and ultimately checked and reversed their advance. Amalasan was tried, found guilty and gentled, cut off from the One Power forever. He died, several years later, from the same traumatic malady that ultimately affected everyone who was cut off from the Power.

Nyarlathotep, for his part, had managed to sneak away once Amalasan's best generals had decided to attempt to free their captured leader and had now set his sights on Artur Hawkwing.

In the aftermath of his victory, Artur Hawkwing returned home to Shandalle. Neither he nor his troops were thanked for their assistance by the fanatical leader of the Aes Sedai, Bonwhin Meraighdin, who resented the idea of the Aes Sedai needing help from any man. Bonwhin even punished those Aes Sedai who had captured Amalasan for allowing Hawkwing's army onto Tar Valon's territory. As the continent fell into chaos, with Amalasan's conquered nations descending into civil war and political strife after his death, Hawkwing's name had become famous and his name spoken as a potential successor to Amalasan. Citing this as 'proof' that Hawkwing was dangerous, Bonwhin manipulated several other nations into invading Shandalle as she resented Hawkwing's military prowess and feared he meant to conquer his neighbours.

After defeating the alliance, Hawkwing raised fresh troops and launched a 19 year campaign that came to be known as the Consolidation, in which he conquered all of the Westlands save for Tar Valon, which was placed under siege. Successfully creating a mighty empire, Artur Hawkwing made peace with the Aes Sedai and re-established cordial relations, then ruling for 55 years, during which there was seven rebellions and a Trolloc invasion from 986 to 987,each of which were put down by the High King and his forces.

As his reign began, a great celebration was held and all were welcomed. Among those who entered the castle based on this hospitality were Nyarlathotep and his followers including a noble woman of an odd but alluring demeanour.

Under a banner of peace, Nyarlathotep, back to using the avatar of Maerlyn, gave Artur Hawkwing twelve tainted magical spheres as a coronation present. Whereas each of the coloured spheres contained the secret of a different form of magic – one contained the skill of levitation, another held the secret of telepathy, yet another the power to move between worlds – the black one was, in fact, the Black Thirteen, the same sphere that he had given to Beidomon and Mierin years ago.

They seemed to glisten with the very magic from which they were made, and the desire to touch them, to gaze into their depths, was overwhelming. One by one, the High King held up the spheres which the sorcerer Maerlyn promised would bring peace, prosperity and wisdom to his new empire. Yet as Hawkwing passed each ball to his most trusted advisers, his face, and their faces, began to change.

Where once there had been generosity, now there was greed. Where once there had been trust, now there was suspicion.

Despite being married to his wife Amaline, Artur, over the course of the celebration and due to the greedy influence of the spheres, quickly became smitten with the noble woman and that night slept with her. However it was after their night of passion that the woman revealed to Hawkwing that she, along with her entourage, were, in fact, Todash demons. The woman, able to shape shift and disguise herself with ease, was known variously as the Red Queen or the Crimson Queen.

The Todash demons slaughtered most of the other guests at the celebration. True to her ravenous nature, the Crimson Queen attempted to kill Hawkwing, but was thwarted when Sir Kay Trakand (who had fought with Hawkwing in his conquest of the Westlands and was a chief friend and advisor to him) came to his defense (for he had been immediately suspicious of the unannounced arrival of Maerlyn and his followers and, unlike the rest of the royal court, had not looked at the spheres Maerlyn had given to the High King), saving the king. Sir Kay was killed by the Crimson Queen in the struggle.

As Hawkwing attempted to kill the Crimson Queen to avenge his fallen savior, the Queen and the rest of the Todash demons fled into the night. (Unbeknownst to Artur Hawkwing, the Crimson Queen had already got what she had wanted: she was impregnated by Hawkwing and, after escaping, gave birth to the being who would come to be known as Crimson King or Red King). (7)

Though Artur ordered the Wizard's spheres to be broken, the glass forged over the undying fire of Maerlyn's cave proved to be unbreakable. Instead they were buried in a secret cave, but not even that worked ad planned. Drawn by their glamour, thieves soon discovered the hiding place, and Maerlyn's Rainbow found its way into the world once more.

Nyarlathotep, satisfied with the large amounts of chaos and instability he had caused, would leave the Westlands and return to his earth, eager to spread more death and destruction wherever he could. From that point on, he would appear throughout the following decades and centuries, each time taking on the appearance of a new avatar, each time leaving a trail of dead bodies in his wake.

After all these years, none of the humans had made the connections between his avatars. They all thought they were separate entities. Nyarlathotep still thought of that false notion the Losers Club had thought up about him. A spider from outer space? (8)Really?

Humans were so predictable in their simplistic fears. The persona of Pennywise the Dancing Clown… with its soft pale silken cloth, ruffled neck, wrists and ankles… Puffy shoulders and hips… The soft bright red pom pom buttons… The pristine delicate white gloves that fit snugly on its slender stronger hands… The light, almost gravity defying ginger red hair… The stark white makeup punctuated by sharp, crisp, dark, full, red lips… A sharp red line curving up his face on either side, stemming from each corner of his mouth travelling up over his eyes to end in a point above his brow. The tip of his sharp nose even had a splash of the same red across the end.

This image seemed universally effective in instilling fear in the humans, namely the young children who Nyarlathotep so enjoyed consuming. As the decades passed, he had grown rather fond of this image, choosing to maintain it instead of his true cosmic form. As Pennywise he had enjoyed feasting on children most especially because they were easy to scare (their fears were simple, pure and powerful compared to the complex, pathological fears of adults) and because they put up more of a fight. After all, what was wrong with playing with your food?

The humans had called the place Derry and it had been deeply fruitful for the many hundreds of years he had resided deep within the underground realms of the sewers.

Violence always drew him in. Nyarlathotep's time on Earth had offered him plenty of front row seats to be entertained by human misfortune and violence. He preyed on his victims with such ease at times, it actually amused him.

It had not always been that easy though. There had been occasions (three actually in Derry) where certain victims had…inconvenienced him in the past.

The first of these occurrences had been after his very first arrival in North America during the original founding of the town in 1741 when he had killed the 340 settlers with ease. One of the settlers, however, had proven to be more than he appeared. Though clearly terrified of Nyarlathotep and in fear of his life, this lone settler held out a wand and, before Nyarlathotep could strike and kill him, blasted him with some sort of spell. Naturally he had recovered quickly and, after Nyarlathotep had plunged his claws into the foolish wizard settler's chest, was told by the dying man that he had been hit with a powerful version of the Bewitched Sleep spell. (9) Being a god, the spell would affect Nyarlathotep differently to ordinary wizards and non-magical humans, the settler surmised before dying that it was still strong enough to put the creature to sleep every twenty-seven years so long as he remained in the township.

And it was true. Nyarlathotep could have easily have left what would later become Derry, Maine and not have to suffer the effects of this sleep spell but, instead, he decided to take advantage of this. From then on, each awakening (which lasted roughly a year to 18 months) and return to hibernation would be marked by events of great violence. For example, Nyarlathotep, using the names IT or Pennywise interchangeably, awoke in 1935 when a group of citizens killed a group of bandits called the Bradley Gang that robbed and murdered several store owners across Derry throughout the early 1900's (with many towns people reporting a clown wearing farmer's attire participating in the shooting).(10)

There was also an added bonus too. IT's psychic hold on the town became so absolute he was able to keep the entire town in a subtle, apathetic ignorance to his activities. Adults became less inclined to care about the missing persons of the town or the anomalous murder spikes during Its active phase.

Until the second inconvenience occurred in 1957-1958 in the form of the Losers Club. Just saying their name made Nyarlathotep's blood boil. Just the thought that these children had managed to beat him….it sickened him. He was Nyarlathotep. He was the Crawling Chaos! No one, no one beat him! And yet these seven children had defeated him.

Twice!

First when they were children and then as adults after Pennywise had awoken in July 1984.

Three occurrences when his prey had managed to get the better of him. And not just in Derry either.

What people failed to realise that while, yes it was true, he did have to hibernate every 27 years, it didn't mean he could dream. Following his defeat in 1958 and hibernation, Nyarlathotep had returned to the Dream World (11), where he would warp and shape his victims' dreams to whatever he saw fit, mostly in the forms of his victims' personalities and phobias.

One particular person's dream he quickly found himself drawn to was Frederick Charles Krueger. Nyarlathotep observed Krueger's killing spree in the town of Springwood, Ohio through his dreams. The man was almost a kindred spirit with his violent nature. Nyarlathotep continued to observe Krueger through his dreams all the way up to his death when, after he was set free on a technicality when it was discovered that the search warrant was not signed in the right place, a mob made up of the town's vengeful parents corned Krueger in the same boiler room he used to take his 20 victims. The mob doused the building with gasoline and set it on fire by throwing Molotov cocktails, burning him alive.

What was left was a charred husk, hard and cracked. A mummy-like corpse, crumbling to the touch, melted through and steaming till all that was left was blackened sinew and bone, and a few melted patches of burnt polyester from the striped sweater he'd worn. The people of Springwood had to wait till his body cooled, smouldering in the stain on the cement that had been left by his boiling flesh. Then they moved it, carrying the twisted, gaunt thing out to the truck of the Lantz family car. They drove it to the junkyard, where they hid it in an abandoned vehicle, eventually to be buried by trash and refuse.

Such disrespect. Hard as rock and petrified wood, as fragile as fulgurites, Frederick C. Krueger's body was unfit to be returned to the earth in any traditional sense. Even the maggots couldn't make a meal of him. Inside the meal box, his scorched body froze in the winter. It flaked in the heat of the summer. Kids came through and climbed up the pyramid of abandoned rubbish; they smoked weed and felt each other up leaning against the lid of his makeshift coffin. The hardening bones sat silently and without protest, like patient sticks of dynamite.

Nevertheless, Nyarlathotep, inspired by his actions, took his burnt appearance as his new avatar as well as his dark brown fedora and his bladed glove hand, while his form of Pennywise slept in Derry, Nyarlathotep began a whole new lease of life masquerading as Freddy Krueger and would instil a wave of terror throughout the town of Springwood, haunting his victims in their dreams and killing them. Oh it was glorious!

Until, in 1981, that bitch Nancy Thompson had beaten him.

Nyarlathotep grit his teeth in anger. Even now, years after his first encounter with Nancy, the memory of it still angered him greatly. It had become a reoccurrence being beaten by either children or teenagers. A reoccurrence that he had worked quickly to end. He had allowed the adult Losers Club to believe that they had destroyed him for good in 1985, when in reality he had simply returned to the Black Lodge (12) to reconstitute his body and heal his wounds.

He had avenged his past defeat when he killed Nancy in 1987 and had spent the rest of the 1980s systemically killing most of her friends who had assisted her or crossed him in the past: Jesse Walsh, Lisa Webber and Glen Lantz before coming across the nightmares of one lonely girl named Laura Palmer (who he would become intimately aware of as the decade continued in his current avatar form of Bob) from the quiet small-town of Twin Peaks, Washington.

Nyarlathotep liked being Bob. Bob looked and sounded human and, unlike his previous forms of Pennywise or Freddy, didn't draw attention. Bob was normal. Bob blended in. Bob could stand in a crowd full of humans and adults or children would walk right past him without so much as blinking an eye, completely unaware of who they had just passed by. That was what he needed: the ability to draw humans into a false sense of security and, most of all, anonymity.

Twin Peaks gave him that.

Twin Peaks, in many ways, was like Derry. The quintessential image of small-town America where nothing much happened, problems were mild and manageable and conflicts were solved through neighbourliness, everyday kindness and a sense of the common good – that people looked out for each other.

Nothing but a lie. The truth was that towns like Derry, Springwood and Twin Peaks were in actuality cesspits of intolerance and meanness behind a façade of folksiness.

He continued to haunt the dreams of Laura Palmer, first with simply nightmares, then possessing her father to sexually abuse her as Laura grew up and then finally sneaking through her bedroom window on the night of and raping her himself while she slept.(13)

Nyarlathotep licked his lips as he thought back to that moment. Oh the build-up had been exhaustingly slow at times (a teenage mind could be so boring sometimes) but the payoff had been worth it! But Nyarlathotep was, if nothing else, patient. His patience had been rewarded tenfold throughout his long life and when he had finally killed Laura, just seeing the light go out of her eyes had been enough of a victory for him.

He had, during this time, ceased to use the avatar of Pennywise and, after his fight with the brute Jason Voorhees in 1990 and subsequent encounters in 1996 with both Jason and the human Ash Williams (14), had hang up the Freddy avatar and left Springwood as well. It had been time for a change.

Bob continued his walk south, strolling quietly through the streets of Hawkins until he finally arrived at his destination: A sign on the rusty chain-link fence read "Vought International Private Property No Trespassing". Bob ignored the sign as he crossed into the restricted area.

He walked over to a lopsided abandoned freight container, gave a click of his fingers to magically unlock the container and then stepped inside.

The small, shaky lift within the container descended and he emerged into a large subterranean sewer area. Bob began walking through the maze of tunnels. The tunnels reminded Bob of the sewers of Derry that he had once lived in as Pennywise. Bob moved deeper beneath the town, the temperature dropping noticeably as he travelled lower and lower.

The further he travelled, the more he could make out noise. Faint at first, but as he walked deeper and deeper underground the louder it became.

The hanging lanterns and glowing naked bulbs provided him just enough light by which to navigate. As he strode through he passed by the many children loitering in the shadows. Lit by the electric lights the layout was comprised of elevated walkways and scaffold structures. The cavernous hideout had the air of a busy workshop. Overhead, adult teenagers hung like abseilers as they worked on thick metal support columns.

The children and teenagers all averted eye contact with Bob and kept their heads down as he walked past, only to resume their labours after a moment. They had all been told by Mary to avoid any and all eye contact with Bob whenever he arrived least he decide to fest on one of them, something he had been expressly forbidden to do by Mary. He had gone along with her so-called "rules" if only to placate her. He needed her on side.

At least for now, he reminded himself.

After all it wasn't as if she could actually stop him from doing what he pleased with any of the children. As a god he could easily overpower her in 2 seconds if he so chose to.

Bob walked down a flight of steps until he reached the entrance of the ad hoc command centre where Mary was surrounded by a small circle of excited children. On the ground in front of them was a bound and beaten looking man who Bob did not recognise. Opposite the group of children standing by the side of the ad hoc was a woman wearing a white lab coat. (Once again Bob did not recognise her.) She did not appear to have seen Bob approach as her eyes seemed totally fixed on the object Mary was holding in her hands. The gushing water nearby was so loud Bob could not make out what she was saying to the children.

As Bob reached the circle he was able to hear exactly what Mary was telling them:

"I tell you, children it's a wizard's wand! Real too. I felt its power as soon I touched it. I've seen it with my own eyes." Her face was flushed with triumph as she held the wand out for the surrounding children to gaze at it. Some looked frightened by it, some appeared in awe and others had looks of hesitation and scepticism.

"Is that so?" Bob sneered in a cold voice as he pushed past the children to come face to face with Mary. The children immediately moved out of his way, their heads bowed so as to avoid looking at him.

"You're late," Mary replied glaring at Bob sharply.

"Am I?"

"Three weeks late to be precise," Mary reminded curtly.

Bob's lips curled into a smile. "Oh yes," he remarked with joy, remembering exactly why he had been late.

"So you have a wand." His attention now turned to the wand Mary held aloft in her hands. "Nice trinket."

"It is more than a simple trinket," Mary responded, her eyes almost gleaming with arrogance as she used her fingers to turn the wand around in her hands. "It is power. The power to do literally anything I want."

"Almost anything," the bound man corrected her, causing Mary, the children and Bob to glance down at him. "There are limits." He glared angrily at Mary and cast a weary look at Bob as if unsure who he was.

"Look children, I'm going to prove this wand is real," Mary said her mouth spread into a sinister smirk as she pointed the wand at her prisoner. "Crucio!"

The man collapsed to the ground, screaming and shrieking as his entire body contorted with pain.

With a flick of the wand, the pain was gone, the screaming stopped and Robert Abernathy was left breathing heavily as if he had just had all his oxygen suddenly ripped out of his lungs and then just as suddenly returned to him.

The children all had looks of wonder and disbelief on their faces as they looked from the wand to the curled form of Abernathy. And while Bob's face appeared expressionless, his mind was racing with possibilities at the sudden display of magic Mary had just performed in front of them.

Did she really have magic? The wand wouldn't have responded to a non-magical human otherwise. Mary certainly seemed to believe she possessed magic. Bob had never sensed any latent magical abilities within her in all the time he had known her. But he had just seen it with his own eyes…the use of the Cruciatus curse!

"Satisfied now?" A smug Mary asked him expectedly.

"Having a wand is one thing but actually being able to cast spells is another," Bob cautioned her. "Any fool can possess a wand but knowing and performing spells is another."

"That's why I brought mister Abernathy with me. To get him to teach me defensive spells," Mary explained.

Abernathy, hearing this, scoffed. "I will not!" he declared aggressively.

Mary shooed the children away and beckoned Bob to follow her into her ad hoc command centre, dragging Abernathy with her. Once inside Bob cast a Muffliato Charm around the centre so as to prevent the children from eavesdropping on their discussion.

"First let's be clear: You do not summon me like some mongrel pet," he said in a warning tone as he leaned in close to her personally space to illustrate his point. He took a brief sniff of her hair and could see Mary fighting the sense of revulsion as she shifted uncomfortably. This was a common tactic of Bob's – to intimate and throw Mary off her game. To remind her that he had the power despite what she thought otherwise.

"Where were you?" Mary demanded, trying to get their conversation back on track.

"My whereabouts are my business. I don't have to tell you anything," Bob responded as he glanced around the command centre, taking in the desks and file cabinets that were crammed into the corners. Noticing a series of photographs plastered on the wall at the far end and, he approached them to get a better look.

The pictures of Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Max, Joyce, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, Suzie, Eleanor, James and Bruce were all scattered about in a circular pattern with Jim Hopper in the middle with a red X across his face. Above it was a picture of Eleven this time with a circle around it. And finally above that was a picture of Sara Wheeler with the words An alternate? written above her head.

Curious, Bob though. "Planning a scrapbook?" he asked, gesturing to the collage in front of him.

"Would you avoidance of the question be because of this?" Mary asked holding up the look addition of the Hawkins newspaper. On the front page was a picture of several police officers standing by Flatrock creek, their faces grim, as two large stretchers carrying the bloated, bloodied and decomposed bodies of Tommy and Carol were pushed past them. Above the picture the headline read "LOVERS FOUND DEAD IN CREEK! KILLER AMONG US?"

"I presume this was your doing?"

Bob flashed Mary a wolfish grin in response. "What can I say they were asking for it. Going at it in the back of their car at midnight by a creek?" He let out a soft chuckle. "Oh you should have heard their screams! It was like waving a red cape at a bull. Especially since you have denied me the pleasure of the many children you have here."

"I told you we could not afford to draw attention to ourselves!" Mary snapped in anger, waving the newspaper in front of Bob. "And now thanks to your urges the Hawkins police will begin investigating who killed them and that could lead them to us!"

"I would have been here sooner," Bob admitted sourly. "But I was delayed by the Gunslinger's appearance."

"Am I supposed to know who that is?" Mary asked.

"I'd never met him until now. But my son certainly has," Bob replied.

Mary blinked, absolutely flabbergasted. "You have a—"

"Son," he finished for her coolly. "I do believe you are familiar with the custom of having children."

A moment passed before she could form her next thoughts into words. Could Gods have children?

"To be honest, I've never met Walter but I have heard tales of his many atrocities." Bob giggled. "He certainly takes after me."

"And this Gunslinger?"

"A wondering do-gooder obsessed with reaching the Dark Tower," Bob snarled. "But he says he's here in Hawkins to seek me out. Appears to think he can use me to lure Walter out so he can kill him."

"Is he a threat to us?" Mary asked curious.

Bob thought for a minute then shock his head. No, the Gunslinger was no threat to his plans. An irritant if anything but certainly not someone he had to be afraid of. In fact it astonished him that his son had not simply killed the Gunslinger and instead allowed him to continue trying to track him down. Was it some sort of game for him? That he could understand. After all he had certainly enjoyed the thrill of the hunt whether it was Nancy Thompson, the Losers Club or Dipper, Mabel and Stan Pines back in Gravity Falls when his avatar had been known as Bill Cipher.

"No."

"Does he have magic?"

"Yes," Bob answered truthfully.

"More sorcerers in Hawkins," Mary groaned under her breath. She glanced accusingly at Bob. "This wasn't supposed to happen. You promised me that my plan would go unnoticed by the wizarding communities and yet already I have been captured by British and America wizards working together!"

Bob shrugged. "I fail to see how that's my fault." The wizards thought they were so powerful when really they were little more than bureaucratic fools who had no idea the meaning of true power. Another error courtesy of my foolish grandfather, Nyarlathotep thought. Bad enough allowing dwarfs and elves to be above their station but wizards as well? "Besides once I cast the spell you won't have to worry about any other wizards ever again."

That seemed to settle Mary's worry. She was clever; Nyarlathotep had to give her that. She always had been. But now it seemed her run in with wizards had shaken her confidence.

"And the police?" She asked. "They are bound to be wonder how exactly those two victims died. The last thing I need is an investigation happening before you cast the spell."

"As opposed to investigating the large number of disappearing children," Bob shot back, tiring of these concerns.

"I take children who are homeless, who are orphaned or runaways. I am discreet. You, clearly, are no–"

With a look of contempt, Bob lunged forward, his hand transforming into his true clawed form, grabbing Mary by the throat and slamming her against the side of the wall. "You seem to have forgotten," he began with measured anger in his voice as Mary struggled in his grip, "who you're speaking to. Don't forget that I'm the reason you're even standing here in the first place. I broke you out of Pennhurst. You owe your freedom to ME!"

Mary flinched from his rage. It was true; Bob had been responsible for freeing her from the suffocating imprisonment of Pennhurst. It had begun with whispers. By this point Mary, her mind overcome with LSD, simply believed it a symptom of insanity. The whispers seemed to come from all over as if they were mocking Mary.

Then came the nightmares, the boiler room she saw over and over in her dreams, the haunting voice echoing around her.

And finally he had appeared before Mary, not as a clown or a burned man with a bladed glove and brown fedora but as he had before: a tall man with a long black hood covering his face giving him the appearance of an overgrown bat.

Nyarlathotep offered Mary a deal: he would free her from Pennhurst in exchange for as he put it "a favour, of my choosing. When I choose. No exceptions".

Despite her brain still being addled by the effects of LSD, Mary was no fool, and she weighed the pros and cons of offering him a carte blanche carefully. Nyarlathotep was clever, cleverer than anyone she had ever known, and he could see the future. It was very possible that he was already aware of the situation in which he would use such favour, and odds were good that it wasn't a time Mary would like to grant him one. She had to balance that against her present desire for freedom, decide which was more important to her.

But in the end, Mary had agreed to the deal and, on the following night, Nyarlathotep stayed true to his word and sprung her from the asylum.

His point proven, Bob relaxed his clawed fingers around Mary's neck and she collapsed onto the concrete floor, coughing and taking several gasps of air as she struggled to compose herself. Bob, meanwhile, began pacing violently up and down the command centre.

"I have been generous," he complained. "More than generous in fact! Saving your life in Vietnam, then freeing you from Pennhurst and most recently giving you the knife coated with the Nightmare Curse you asked me for to use on that human female. Although why you didn't just slit her throat then and there and be done with it astounds me. If it were me I would have."

The nightmare curse was one of the most horrible curses ever written. It was designed to use the power of someone's own memories and worst fears to destroy their mind, mixing memories with every imaginable horror to drive someone towards insanity. There was no cure for it, and nearly everyone who had ever been cursed—less than two or three dozen people in all of recorded history, if Bob recalled correctly—eventually died of it. A nightmare curse was not a quiet curse. Those subjected to it were often mindlessly violent, sometimes hurting those they loved because they thought they were absolutely unaware of anything except what was happening in their nightmares.

Bob's eyes now focused on the woman wearing a white lab coat. She was chatting with several of the younger children looking every bit a kind nurse asking their patient how they were feeling today. But there was something… off about her, Bob could sense it. How interesting, Nyarlathotep mused, allowing himself a quick glimpse into the future as his eyes traced over her. "Keep an eye on that nurse of yours," he suggested.

"Miss Courtney?" Mary asked, frowning. "Why?"

"Call it intuition," Bob said softly. His visions were unreliable in this land, even with magic, but Nyarlathotep could feel possible futures gathering at the edge of his consciousness.

Bob suddenly stopped his pacing and swung round to face Mary suspiciously. "Maybe you've developed a conscious in the years since we last met," he speculated softly. "Perhaps these delightful children you are surrounded by have made you soft."

"Nonsense," Mary replied shortly. "I simply removed a piece from the board that, if allowed to stay, would have greatly inconvenienced me in such early stages of my plan."

"If this Suzie was such a threat why use a nightmare curse on her? Seems a bit excessive to use it on someone you've never met before," Bob pointed out.

"I wanted to see the effects it would have first-hand before I used it on a more deserving target," Mary answered as she walked over to her collage of photos on the wall. She pointed between the pictures of Jim and Joyce as if undecided.

"I don't want Jim to just die. No, I want him to suffer in agonising pain," Mary said almost breathlessly. "I intend to use the nightmare curse on Jim and Joyce. Depriving him of the woman he loves, knowing that she is suffering the very same unending terror and torment that he is all while he can do nothing to save them both…yes that will be sweet vengeance indeed."

"And how do you suppose your dear sister will react when she finds out what you've done to both her adopted mother and father?" Bob inquired, not that he particularly cared one way or another if her plan was successful. As long as she does the favour she owes me.

"In time she'll understand," Mary said matter-of-factly. "I will gain her love soon enough and then no one will stand in our way."

Bob allowed himself another laugh. "Don't be so sure of that. Take it from someone who has had dozens of schemes in a very long life both succeed and fall apart, the winds are always changing and, unless you adapt to certain…unforeseeable circumstances, you'll find a knife at your throat before you know it."

"Is that a threat?" Mary demanded.

"Take it how you will. Just remember what I've said, and you'll be perfectly fine."

Mary snorted. She'd never liked being pushed around, and Nyarlathotep reminded Mary of Henry's bullying ways while in the Lab. The God in front of her was more cold blooded than he had been; but his self-absorbed focus was just the same. She always knew establishing a partnership with him would be fraught but, for her master plan to work, she needed him. For now. Once I've learned enough magic I'll kill him myself. "You should know by now that I've never taken threats really well," she told Bob. "And assuming the spell you cast does as you have promised, there won't be any problems."

Bob gave Mary a look of disappointment as he shook his head. "After everything we've been through you still doubt me, little girl?" he asked in a tut-tut tone of voice.

That did the trick; she flushed. "I," she snapped, "told you not to call me that."

That had been the name Nyarlathotep had referred to her as ever since he had saved her life in Vietnam. Even now after all these years it still made her uncomfortable hearing him call her that. But then again that was exactly why he did it. He always did enjoy riling her up and getting under her skin.

"You know sometimes I think you haven't changed from the lonely, frightened child you were when I first met you all those centuries years ago in the jungles of Vietnam," Bob mused. "Once an orphan, always an orphan. Is that why you surround yourself with children? Trying to fill the hole left in your heart from your Papa throwing you away in a mental hospital?" He gave a high pitched and cruel laugh. "Is that why you're so obsessed with your sister? You think once she loves you that hole will be gone for good? Well I hate to break it to you, but Eleven already has a family of her own. A dutiful husband, children even. I don't think she has room for another sister."

Ah, there it was. The mention of her sister's family was enough to make Mary's envy rear up again, and he watched her eyes go wide with hatred and fury.

She glared, and the words were a snarl: "I'll be the only family Eleven will need soon enough."

She was a sad little thing, really, desperate for approval and for affection. Brenner had already manipulated Mary with a few words of approval into becoming infallibly ready to do whatever he wanted her to. When he had first met her, Mary had been scared but intrigued by him. Sensing many possibilities in her and fascinated that she shared similar powers involving fear, Nyarlathotep took her with him and instilled within Mary tenets of secrecy, patience and ingenuity. He had first shown her magic and, to his delight, Mary had not been startled by this revelation but instead been drawn to its power.

Part of Nyarlathotep wanted to play on her feelings, get her into his bed—for Mary was far from an ugly woman—and then tie her to him as thoroughly as possible. But a corner of his mind—the ever calculating one, the one that put the pieces of every puzzle together to meet his ends—told him otherwise. He had never been one for casual romances, and he saw no benefit in the idea of lying about his own feelings and starting a relationship with her.

"Regardless, I will not take lectures from you," Bob went on, ignoring Mary. "You do not order me around either. This is a partnership, remember? I help you get what you want and in return, when I decide, you will do the favour you owe me."

"You remind me of it constantly! Yet you still won't tell me what it is," Mary said, frowning.

"Now, that's my business, dearie," he replied mockingly with a giggle. "In due time I will call in that favour you owe me. We may be partners but I will do as I please, and you certainly cannot stop me. Are you going to try?"

Mary had the brains to shake her head slightly.

"I see no reason to," she replied with dignity.

"Good! Then we're the best of friends, aren't we?" Bob tittered, letting his gaze burn into hers.

Mary was the only woman he knew who could meet the fury of a God head on and not flinch. She could even look dignified as she did so. "Of course we are," she smiled.

"Well, then, everyone's happy!" Bob giggled, twirling his hand and stepping in close to her. "Now tell me what's going to happen to our guest here?"

He inclined his head down to Abernathy, who had been silent all throughout their discussion.

"If I'm going to learn magic I need a teacher don't I?" Mary said.

"Why not ask me to teach you? I did once before after all," Bob inquired, frowning slightly. Why was this former student so insistent on learning magic now? Did she foolishly think, once she had mastered it, she would be able to kill him? He knew already Mary was a skilled enough fighter by human standards that, combined with her powers, made her a formidable opponent. Adding magic into the hands of someone who was increasingly envious of Eleven's family could be problematic.

"I wouldn't put it past you to keep hidden from me specific knowledge," Mary replied. "Not to mention potentially killing me during an accidental lesson."

Bob managed a smile. "You know me too well."

Now Mary smiled. "But don't worry. I know he won't teach me anything of his own volition, will you?" She asked.

"You're smarter than you look," Abernathy drawled, enjoying the way rage rolled off of her in waves.

"Which is why I'm putting him in your tender care," Mary continued, glaring down at the wizard. "I'm allowing you to use any means you deem necessary, short of death, to convince him to teach me everything about spells both defensive and non-offensive."

"Ooooh. Now we're talking," Bob said, flashing a wicked grin towards Abernathy as his hands rubbed together in excitement.

Mary found herself smiling unrestrainedly in reply. "Don't say I don't look after you. I already have prepared quarters for you to …. begin questioning mister Abernathy," she said, pointing to the walkway across the waterfall. "I have already instructed the children to steer clear of that room."

Something vicious flashed through Bob's eyes, but Mary didn't pay attention. She had suddenly felt something….off. She turned and looked away towards the picture of Eleven. "Something's wrong," Mary said softly as she placed her fingers on the photograph and closed her eyes. "Eleven has left Hawkins. No wait. I see her. She's in a car. With Max. Driving somewhere. No!"

Mary opened her eyes and glanced back to Bob, who stood in the same spot watching her closely. "The spell must be delayed," She announced.

"What!" Nyarlathotep couldn't believe what he was hearing. They had agreed that he would cast the spell as soon as it was possible for him to do so. And now it was being delayed? Sure he still needed to gather some ingredients to cast the spell but to delay it?

"Circumstances have….changed," Was Mary's response. "Eleven has left Hawkins."

"Too bad," Nyarlathotep hissed angrily. "That is not my problem. I'll cast the spell regardless if she's here in Hawkins or not!"

"My sister is the whole reason I'm doing this!" Mary shouted.

"Then you figure out where she's gone!" Nyarlathotep snapped pointing his finger at her. "I don't care about your changed circumstances. The spell will be cast with or without your sister being in this town. So I suggest you bring her back here if she's as important as you say."

"We had a deal!" Mary reminded him, the anger rising in her voice.

"We did," Nyarlathotep agreed, nodding his head. "I said I would cast the spell for you and in return you would do the favour you owe me. That was all. It said nothing about Eleven being here in Hawkins."

"It is vital that my sister be here!" Mary replied.

"Then I suggest you find her and bring her back because I won't be!" Bob declared as he grabbed Abernathy by the scuff of his shirt and dragged him out of the command centre, leaving a fuming Mary behind.

Struggling to keep his rage bottled up, Bob stormed around the walkway as the waterfall roared water past him. He marched quickly down the corridor, dragging Abernathy with him until he finally reached the small, empty room Mary had made up for him. Bob walked into it and, without turning around, used magic to close the door shut behind him. Throwing his knapsack on the floor in front of him, he looked expectedly at his captive.

"Get in," Bob said in a soft voice that sent chills down Abernathy's spine as the knapsack unzipped itself.

His stomach rolled in disgust and fear as Bob stepped close to him, but Abernathy forced himself to stand his ground. "No."

Bob laughed. "Get. In," he said before lunging forward and pushed Abernathy. Hard.

Abernathy fell through the inside of the knapsack with a scream.

Abernathy landed with a crash, and for a long moment, the world went black. He wasn't sure that he hadn't hit his head on the way down, and panic started to rise when his vision didn't immediately clear, but then searing pain captured his attention and Abernathy cried out. Everything hurt, and when his eyes finally started working, he was treated to a large dark, dingy wooden room.

Abernathy immediately recognised it as an Extension Charm (15) as he shook his head and struggled into a sitting position.

No sooner had he done that, then Nyarlathotep, still in his Bob avatar, came hurdling down towards him like a cannon. Landing a few meters next to Abernathy, he spread his arms out wide in a sweeping motion.

"Welcome to my home away from home," Bob grinned before noticing Abernathy was still sitting in front of him. "Up."

The tendrils of Nyarlathotep's magic reached out for him as Bob spoke, and Abernathy stiffened as he felt them go to work and force him to his feet.

"Let me show you around," Bob offered as he led an involuntary Abernathy further through the almost total darkness of the room. He could smell damp, dust and a sweetish, rotting smell; the place had the feeling of a derelict building. Bob gave a click of his fingers and several candles scattered around the room lit up, casting a flickering insubstantial light over the room. Abernathy could see dozens of photographs plastered on the walls around them. Upon closer inspection he saw, much to his horror, that the photos were of either children or teenagers. Ranging from different ages, all innocent looking, ranging from mediaeval period to the 1980s. Abernathy immediately felt a cold chill rip up his spine as the children in the photos seemed to stare down at him.

Bob seemed to know this as he leaned in close to him. "Admiring my many victims?" He asked viciously, clearly enjoying himself. "I like to remember all of them. Especially those that….vexed me in the past."

He gestured down to the middle of the left-side wall where nine photographs were all lined up together. Several were defaced but for the most part they were in pristine condition.

"The Losers Club," Bob said pointing to the photos of Bill Denbrough, Ben Hanscom, Richie Tozier, Beverly Marsh and Mike Hanlon. "I've never forgotten them. Sometimes I wonder how their doing, all living safe, normal, happy lives." He giggled impishly, twirling his hands around.

"Sometimes I even imagine visiting them again and all the fun I could have," Bob mused, his voice growing soft and cold as his eyes focused on the Loser Club. "One day perhaps I will. Yes, one day."

Now Bob was pointing to the defaced photo of a woman with blonde hair. "Kristen Parker, sweet little thing," he remarked. "I'll wish you into a beautiful dream, forever and ever," Bob spat in a shrill, mocking voice. The bitch was still alive– Kristen had actually managed to wish Nancy into the "beautiful dream", a domain of the dream world even he could not control. Nancy felt so safe and secure now she had used this to protect any future victims Nyarlathotep had gone after. (16) Oh the amount of times he had fantasized about killing Kristen, the sweet image of her dead body lying in front of him…that had been a source of pleasure for him many times. Soon it would be a reality, just like the Loser Club.

"And finally the twerps Dipper and Mabel from Gravity Falls," Bob said, referring to the photographs of the two teenagers, each one smiling brightly. "And their annoyingly persistent great-uncle Stan Pines." Stan's photograph, much like Kristen's, was heavily defaced. The photograph was of a smiling man wearing a black suit with a white shirt and red bolo tie and a red fez on the top of his head. It was ironic; Stand and his Bill Cipher avatar had actually had much in common – hell, he had even planned on keeping Stan around as a pet if he had behaved. But instead he had sided with his niece and nephew and ruined everything!

"Now then, on to you." The words were quiet and dangerous as Bob turned his attention back to Abernathy and, flashing him a wicked smile, led him further down the room towards a large door. Pushing past it he entered into a damp dark dungeon with flame-lit torches the only source of light.

Clicking his fingers, Nyarlathotep's magical tendrils made chains appear from thin air and wrapped themselves around Abernathy's hands, binding him in their metal holds as they pinned him to the wall. Nearby he heard something stir but couldn't make out exactly who or what the figure was in the darkness.

"Awake are you, pet?" Bob asked, leering down into the darkness at the figure. "As you can see I've brought you some company. Aren't you happy?"

The figure said nothing so Bob, in response, sent a spark of magic at whoever it was. The figure gave a sharp yell of pain and a muffed "I'm happy".

Satisfied Bob swung round to face his new captive. "Welcome to your new home," he explained. "You'll get used to it in time. They all do eventually."

"My name is Robert Abernathy. I'm an Auror on behalf of the Magical Congress of the United States of America. That is all I intent to say to you for the duration of the time I am held here," Abernathy vowed, trying to sound brave but unable to contain the fear that was gripping his heart.

"Brave," Bob admitted before his face twisted into a secretive smile. "Don't talk. Just listen. This world is crisscrossed by borders between realms, overlapped by worlds beyond this reality, and scored with canals of power. That makes it strong, and mutable. There is much power here, for those who wish to access it, both drawn from other realms and other channels, and from the borders where worlds meet. As flint and stone generate the sparks of fire, so do these worlds generate power. Yet borders are also fractures, sources of instability."

His dark eyes looked deep into Abernathy's.

"Instability can provide chaos. Chaos breeds fear. And fear is power."

Abernathy shook his head. "We use our power to survive, to live, to teach, and to understand," he said. "And we never use them lightly. Our magic is great, and it has allowed us to live, and live well. As a result, we must be mindful, because with such power comes the responsibility to use it wisely. In this case, to understand the ramifications before we act."

Bob scoffed. He had heard similar lectures before from his grandfather, who, like Abernathy, preached the same foolish nonsense. "You sound exactly like my grandfather," he bemoaned. "He and the rest of my siblings were the first beings to form when life came into being in this universe. Perhaps you've heard of them? They were called the Ancients."

"You're related to the Father of All?" Abernathy asked in disbelief.

Bob gave a sharp-edged smile. "One of his many titles," he muttered. "You may know him as Yog-Sothoth or Gan. Eru is his actually name. You see, at that point the Ancients had attained physical immortality and time travel. But it wasn't enough. So, at my grandfather's urging, the Ancients attempted to travel back to the beginning of time. But the attempt created fractures on the space continuum, leading to the creation of alternate universes. While experimenting with various methods to repair the time continuum and fuse the ever burgeoning amount of alternate universes, my grandfather, who happened to be the most powerful of the Ancients and a rather creative and free-thinking spirit, discovered a method of creating pocket universes, creating null spaces in the fabric of time and space.

"But once again it wasn't enough for my grandfather. See he had now seen the beginning of the universe and had learnt to create his one but he wanted to take it further. And thus the human species and planet Earth was created. But with one defect: he gave you all free will." He spat the last word like it was a curse.

"And how is that a defect?" Abernathy asked.

"If you give a man free will, what does he do with it? If you believe the human legends, he goes and bites a fruit he was told not to eat on pain of death. You can kill him, and you probably do. But does that stop other men from biting the fruit? No. So… the choices are… you can take away the fruit. You can kill him. Or you could do the intelligent thing, which is: take away his free will.

"My grandfather foolishly believed that giving humans' free will would be a benefit to them, that they should be allowed to make their own choices, that wizards should be able to possess magic! Gods are the only ones who should have magic. Humans should be worshipping my family. They should be on bended nears begging us for help and then be thankful we don't kill them. And as for the dwarfs, the goblins and the elves that have been allowed to loiter around, they are the lowest of the low. Peasants who should be put in their place!

"The universe itself is a harsh place. Stars explode, asteroids impact, species come and go. My father, Azathoth, wanted to outdo what Eru had done, so he created the multiverse and every star in the sky, hence the title "God of the Multiverse". But my grandfather was unimpressed with this display of power and had switched his focus to creating being over which he had influence, Maturin the Turtle being his first creation.

"And, at my grandfather's insistent, Azathoth allowed the humans that would exist throughout the multiverse to also have free will. When I and many of the Outer Gods and Great Old Ones including my father objected to this and argued that humans should solely exist to worship us, my grandfather imprisoned us inside a star named Xoth. Fortunately a young member of the Q continuum was influenced by my father to free us from our imprisonment.

"But by that time, my siblings and the rest of the Outer Gods and Great Old Ones were cowed by my grandfather and were content to allow humans their free will. Even my father went into the Dream World rather than fight grandfather. But not me." Bob shrugged. "I guess I'm what humans would call, "the black sleep of the family. As I've learned, Humans are certainly easy to scare and even easier to kill. About the only thing they're good for if I had my way." He let out a wicked laugh before his face became angry. "Now because of their cowardice few humans even know of our existence aside from some memes about Cthulhu on the internet.

"See this is what happens when you give people free will. They mock you, they laugh at you… they treat you like some sort of joke instead of fearing and worshipping us like they should have from the beginning!" Bob snapped.

"Free will gives us freedom of thought and expression," Abernathy responded. "It allows us to seek cooperation and common purpose with those different from us."

"Cooperation? Common purpose? Lies," hissed Bob. "Wizards did not seek common purpose with the elves. No, you wizards waited until most of their warriors had died out and then took the survivors to be your slaves, restricting their rights and freedoms for generations. A once mighty warrior race transformed into house-elves almost overnight. Personally I would have just slaughtered them all but I do see the appeal of slaves." Bob stared at Abernathy intently. "You mouth empty platitudes about freedom and cooperation while denying the greater freedoms you speak so highly of to lesser creatures like elves, goblins and even centaurs. You see, it is free will that is the cause of your lies. After all free will and the so-called freedom of thought and expression allows you to express hypocrisy doesn't it?"

"Free will also enhances life!" Abernathy shouted. "When did you last have the pleasure of smelling a flower, watching a sunset, eating a well-prepared meal?"

"These things are irrelevant," Bob insisted.

"For some point, small, beautiful events is what life is all about!" countered Abernathy. (17)

"Euclid's triangle inequality. The shortest distance between any two points is a straight path. And I have seen where that straight path leads." Bob pointed a finger upward. "Humanity out amongst the stars, building their own Federation. Fostering peace, protecting life, spreading their beliefs to other civilizations.

"Oh I've tried so many times to stop humanity's journey towards federation, believe me. First, I travelled back in time to the early 2030s. I thought if I was able to weaken humanity at that early stage, then their ascension into space would be halted. After all, the 21st century is when everything changes. Helped start the Eugenic Wars of the 2040s, even fought alongside Khan Noonien Singh but, unlike Khan, I saw the writing on the wall. I realized that simple warfare would not achieve my goal. So, in the years after the Eugenic Wars, I resorted to subtle means. After all, create a climate of fear and it's easy to keep borders closed. It's just a matter of emphasis. The right word repeated often enough can destabilize an economy, invent an enemy, change a vote. Hostilities grew so bad that by 2050s two superpower blocs emerged: The South Asia Union led by India and its allies versus the Indonesian Consortium and its allies." (18) (19)

Bob's face seemed to beam as he spoke, delight ringing from his voice. "World War 3 happens, nuclear weapons are used and large populations of humans are bombed out of existence, and the survivors placed in jeopardy by radioactivity, supply shortages, and the collapse of most of the major governments. I watched it happen! I made it happen!" (20)

His face now morphed into a scowl. "But then the Vulcans arrived out of the darkness and in humanity's darkest hour they made first contact, opening a new era for the whole of mankind leading to increased recovery from the war for parts of the world. The very thing I wanted to prevent!" (21)

"So I tried again several times: the Earth-Minbari War in 2245, two Earth Civil Wars but humanity continued undaunted. So this time I intent to use the old fashioned ways."

"You would destroy humanity's future just to spit your grandfather?" Abernathy demanded. He couldn't believe what he had heard from this monster. "At least Voldemort and Grindelwald had their ideology as an excuse for their crimes. For all your talk of being a god, you act like a petulant child."

"Choose your next words carefully or I'll remove your tongue," Bob warned and there was a hard edge to his voice.

"It's not just sad…it's pathetic," Abernathy said.

Bob snapped his left fist shut and Abernathy's tongue appeared in the palm of his right hand. He looked right in his eyes. "Now enough about me. Let's talk about you," Bob said. "Now Mary wants me to get you to teach her magic. And you will teach her. But in the meantime you and I are going to have fun."

With a wave of his hand, Bob returned Abernathy's tongue to him and then undressed him completely.

The next thing that Bob did was drag his tongue over Abernathy's ribs. "Mmm, I love the taste of salted fear. It's absolutely delightful." Bob trailed his finger down the length of Abernathy's cock.

Abernathy shifted away from his touch and Bob snickered.

"What is it you fear most, Abernathy? Death? Torture? I don't think either of those are something that overly bothers you, is it?"

Abernathy didn't answer.

Bob licked his cheek, his smile wide. "No… that's not it. Don't worry, I will break you. Just give me time. Would you like me to suck you off? Help relieve any tension you currently have?"

"Fuck you," Abernathy hissed.

Bob's smiled widened, his fingers wrapping around his flaccid penis. "Now, now, that's not what you want to say to the man holding such precious cargo, is it?" He trailed his fingers along it for a moment before he danced his fingers up his stomach and circled a taut nipple with his fingernail. "Cold, are you? It is a tad chilly in here. Perhaps, I could warm you up?"

One of his fingers poked into his hip and dark blue flames shot out of it, burning his skin in the small spot and Abernathy bellowed.

Bob bit his lips. "Oh? Too hot for you?"

Bob leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to his nipple before he pulled it between his teeth and tugged. The sharp pain made Abernathy grimace in surprise, but it didn't hurt. Bob's eyes met his and he tugged on the nipple again before he bit down. Abernathy screamed as Bob pulled his nipple off with his teeth. He spit it on the ground and smiled.

"Delightful."

He push his thumb into the wound and Abernathy saw stars, trying to shift away from him as he did so. Bob ignored him and instead dragged his bloody finger down Abernathy's body, down his thigh, and knelt before him. He point his finger at the same hip he'd already burned and, using magic sliced a shallow cut.

"Now that I have your attention," Bob said. "Let's a play."

"Fuck you," Abernathy panted.

"Tut, tut, tut! What a terrible mouth on you, Abernathy! We're going to play a game and you're going to love it. Are you ready?"

Abernathy scowled.

"Say yes."

Bob grabbed a hold of his balls and squeezed. "I said, say yes."

"Y-y-yes!" Abernathy exclaimed, panting in pain.

Bob let him go. "Good boy."

Bob sat back on his knees and carefully cradled Abernathy's left foot in his lap. He tenderly stroked his thumb over each toe and between them.

"I'm going to ask you a question and with every truth you give me, I'll give you a reward, but for every lie…" Abernathy's baby toenail was ripped off with one curse and he howled as Bob smiled. "You'll be granted pain. Understood?"

Abernathy's breath was heaving, but he nodded.

"How did Mary come into possession of that wand?"

Abernathy stared at him for a moment and weighed his options. He knew that he was going to die. He didn't know when and he didn't know how, but he knew that this sick monster before him was going to be the cause of his death. He would answer some of his questions; show him that he was playing along.

"It belonged to me. She took it off me before she captured me."

Bob nodded and levitated some water towards him. He drank gratefully.

"Why are the Magical Congress interested in Mary?"

"Because of her being acquainted with several Death Eaters," Abernathy said.

A second toenail was cursed off.

"Not a good enough answer," Bob said when Abernathy finished howling.

"Both the Magical Congress and the British Ministry of Magic are worried about a resurgence of the Death Eaters in both our countries. They thought we could use Mary to find out if they were planning any attacks."

"What it the first thing you're going to teach Mary about magic?"

"Nothing!" A defiant Abernathy panted before howling as the nail on his big toe was ripped off.

Bob clicked his hands and Abernathy slowly slid down to his knees, his arms feeling relief from the chains. Bob knelt down in front of him and cupped his face in both of his hands. "You really are not playing this game properly."

All four fingernails on Abernathy's left hand came off at once and he screamed. The pain was so sharp and so sudden that he blacked out for a moment and when the room came back into focus, Bob's wide smile was leering at him.

"Now, are you going to play properly?"

"Fuck you," Abernathy hissed, his eyes full of pain.

Bob only smiled as he began to curse off the fingers on his right hand. "Very well."

He pointed his hand and the last of Abernathy's fingernails were all ripped off simultaneously. Abernathy hissed and screamed in pain and Bob pressed his lips to the mangled skin, sucking each fingertip and tasting blood.

"Go ahead and scream louder. I love it when my playthings scream."

Bob whistled jollily as he sliced another shallow cut between Abernathy's ribs before he leaned in and lapped at the blood. He licked blood off of his lips and smiled.

"I have so many plans for you, Abernathy. We're going to be spending a great deal of time together. I can promise you that."

With another shallow cut sliced at his hip, Abernathy slammed his eyes shut and tried unsuccessfully to hold back the single tear that slipped down his cheek.

A curved blade appeared in front of him. Abernathy's breath hitched as the light hit it and he realized it wasn't a blade at all, but a vegetable peeler. It sailed over his hip, peeling his skin off in a thin slice as he hissed in pain.

Bob picked the skin off and held it up to Abernathy. "Want to taste yourself?"

When Abernathy didn't answer him, he peeled a second strip of skin on the opposite side of his body. When he peeled another strip down the inside of Abernathy's thigh, he screamed.

"Ah, there it is!" Bob exclaimed gleefully. "The music I was waiting for..." he took another strip, this time by his ribs. "If you just eat it, I'll make it stop."

"F-f-fuck you," Abernathy panted.

Bob shrugged and peeled another strip, this time from his arm. "If you insist."

He whistled as he worked and when Abernathy started to lose consciousness from the pain, he slapped his cheeks.

"That's enough for today," Bob said. "I want you to relish in the pain, not block it out."

He put his tools away, collecting the bloodied strips from the floor and putting them into a bucket. He lowered Abernathy to the ground and adjusted the shackles again to tie him to the wall.

"You sit here and think about what we talked about," Bob said. "One way or another you are going to teach Mary magic." He moved to the door before he stopped and turned to smile at him. "Oh, and Robert? Try not to get too excited, but tomorrow, I'm going to see what I can peel off of your penis. It will be a new adventure for me. For both of us. Aren't you excited to be part of it?"

"You're wrong," Abernathy gasped, struggling to hold back the tears, "About free will. It allows us to be who we want to be."

"We'll see," Bob replied before he left the dungeon, slamming the door shut. Grandfather was wrong, he thought as he stalked across the room. Giving human's free will was a mistake.

One I will correct.

---

Well it is done!

Getting into Nyarlathotep's past and headspace was a struggle. Not just imagining how someone who enjoyed killing and takes delight in torturing people would think about certain things but also his character.

For references I watched several of the Freddy Kruger films as well as the 2017 IT film and book and Twin Peaks. Jeez there are only so much psychopathic evil characters who hunt and kill the main character you can watch before it affects you.

I also wanted this chapter to connect to the Wheel of Time books so I researched it extensively during the writing of this chapter. I know those sections may come off as a drag to read but they are important to set up the amount of chaos and destruction Nyarlathotep is capable of wrecking. And it sets up future elements for future chapter.

I also wanted Nyarlathotep as Bob to possess this appearance of "normalcy," this bland and dull kind of "normalcy," while I tooth-picked little red flags, suspicious little clues, that indicated the contrary, knowing that the audience is well aware that he isn't "normal" at all. You may not notice them in the first reading, but you may notice them the second time around, or third time around, but they have always been there. These reflect the reality of the minds of real-life killers and sexual predators: Yes, you talked to the man, got to know him, drank with him, laughed with him, entrusted your kids with him, and yet he fooled you. How did he fool you? Did you ever notice anything odd about him? Anything suspicious at all?

Ted Bundy was the guy-next-door, suicide hotline man, the law student, the young Republican, but he was also a serial rapist-murder of some thirty-plus women (although, the actual number may have been well over fifty). Jeffrey Dahmer was this skinny, shy nerd that worked at a chocolate factory, yet killed and cannibalized over a dozen people. Ed Gein was an unassuming farm-handler, the fix-it guy who mended your door, the mama's boy, yet was also a necrophilia who made lampshades out of human skin. John Wayne Gacy was the guy dressed as clown for birthday parties, married with stepchildren, and yet had half dozen corpses rotting under his house. How well do you really know people? How well do you know Nyarlathotep, judging simply on context of this chapter itself (without the commentary and prior knowledge of the multiple franchises I mentioned to assist you)?

I also had a LOT of fun adding in the little references and quotes from Star Trek, Doctor Who, Stephen King, the Cthulhu Mythos and Babylon 5. Did you spot them all?

I also wanted to show how much of a predator Nyarlathotep is. His almost constant invasion of Mary's personal space is pretty creepy. I mean he keeps photos of all the many, many children and teenagers he has killed.

I also revealed that he was the one who killed Tommy and Carol in a previous chapter. He takes joy and pleasure in raping and killing his victims. To him it's a release and all humans are good for in his mind.

He remembers. That's what is so scary in my opinion. He remembers the Loser Club and Nancy Thompson and he certainly doesn't forget that they beat/escaped him. You may think your safe but really all you've done is buy yourself time. Nyarlathotep may not come after you again tomorrow or next week. Hell it might even be years but he will eventually and when he does there really isn't much you can do to stop him.

I also wanted to hint at the relationship between Mary and Nyarlathotep. They clearly know each other and I hinted at their first meeting. I plan on doing a future chapter showing how exactly they first met in Vietnam. Nyarlathotep is very much a second father to Mary I think. And while Martin Brenner started Mary down the road to darkness, Nyarlathotep made damn sure she continued down it, into becoming who she is now. While Nyarlathotep and Mary are working together they both plan to betray the other and I wanted to keep it ambiguously who is using who.

Also that another prisoner Nyarlathotep has? Will be revealed later on.

Here are some end-notes that I must explain:

(1) This is taken from Lovecraft's story "Masks of Nyarlathotep"

(2) The Westlands is the name of the main continent in Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time books

(3) Cuendillar is an almost indestructible substance from the Wheel of Time books. It absorbs any force attempting to break it, including the One Power, and is believed to become stronger as a result

(4) Gentling is the term in Wheel of Time for cutting a male channeler off permanently from the One Power thus rendering them incapable of using their magic

(5) Qyburn is the name of a character from George R.R Martin's A song of Fire and Ice and was played by Anton Lesser in the television series Game of Thrones

(6) The Trolloc Wars were a series of sustained conflicts fought between humanity and Shadowspawn that happened in the past before the events of the Wheel of Time books

(7) This is all from Stephen King's Dark Tower books

(8) A reference to Pennywise transforming into a spider during the climax of the IT

(9) The Bewitched Sleep spell is from Harry Potter that would induce a magically induced slumber on the target

(10) Also taken the book IT by Stephen King

(11) The Dream World is where Freddy Kruger takes his sleeping victims to so he can torture and murder them

(12) The Black Lodge is an extradimensional place which includes the Red Room featured in the television show Twin Peaks

(13) Her rape is shown in the prequel film Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me. You can watch the scene on YouTube where Bob sneaks into Laura Palmer's bedroom and rapes her while she sleeps but it's VERY uncomfortable and unsettling to watch so best to avoid it

(14) This is from the comic crossover between the Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th and Evil Dead franchises

(15) An Extension Charm expands the internal dimensions of an object without affecting the external dimensions, enhancing its capacity and rendering its contents lighter

(16) A reference to the six-issue comic book series Nightmares on Elm Street that explains that after her death, Kristen had dreamed her soul into the Beautiful Dream, the good side of the Dream world, where Nancy acts as its agent helping victims who are targeted in their dreams by Freddy

(17) This is spoken word for word by the Fifth Doctor in the Classic Doctor Who episode "Earthshock" against the Cyber-Leader. It's a great scene from actor Peter Davidson discussing emotions. Do check it out

(18) The Eugenic Wars and Khan Noonien Singh are from Star Trek. I changed the dates of the Eugenic Wars from happening in the 1990s to the 2040s because I feel such a conflict would work better in the future than the now past

(19) The South Asia Union and the Indonesian Consortium are from the science fiction show Babylon 5

(20) This quote is spoken by the Ninth Doctor in the episode "Dalek" where he faces a survivor of the Time War

(21) A reference to the film Star Trek: First Contact

Please don't forget to read and leave a review. Your reviews give me life! They give inspiration! And they make me want to keep writing for more than just myself! Thank you for your continued support and please enjoy!