Part XXVII

A distant echo of voices led Batman up a dark staircase to a dank, balcony-like hollow that ended abruptly in a treacherous ledge. The uneven floor was almost too dark to see without activating his mask's night vision, but a dull flickering light filtered in from a rocky alcove far below, highlighting the craggy edge. Looking up, he saw rows of stalactites studded the rough ceiling like shark's teeth, each spike casting eerie shadows of its own. And beyond the ledge—

"Worrisome worm!" a piercing mechanical voice snapped. "I've given you all you require to turn the boy's mind our way. What's the hold-up now?"

Batman peered over the slender ledge, moving like a shadow along the wall. Crouching low, the detective keenly examined the layout of the space below: tall pillars engraved with gargoyle-esque reliefs, a stone table stacked with ancient-looking books, chairs that seemed to have been carved from the rock of the cave itself. A few torches lined the craggy walls, but the brightest light came from a rather impressive computer console – far more compact than the sophisticated set-up he maintained in the Batcave, but very complex, with multiple glowing keypads and rows of monitors, each displaying a different part of the main hall and Throne Room. A large robot sat at the controls, its gleaming metallic head coming to a conical, gold-plated point. At first glance, he seemed to be alone, perhaps talking to his accomplice through a comm unit.

Then, the detective looked closer.

Perched on the glowing control panel, a startlingly tiny green caterpillar-like creature rose up to stare the robot down through an equally tiny pair of round spectacles. The force of the little creature's glare was so powerful, Batman instinctively moved back from the ledge, his dark form sinking further into the shadows.

There was no question: this worm-like being had to be the larval form of the infamous Hyperfly the ifrit Mr. Tawny had described: Mr. Mind.

"Preposterous pinhead! Sometimes I think you have a head of solid steel," the caterpillar growled, wriggling his own head into a blinking diode-studded helmet. "You know full well I can't access my full power as long as I remain trapped in this unformidable form. Give me a second to concentrate!"

"I know this boy's resisted you before, and that was in his own 'unformidable' form," the robot said coldly. "Meanwhile, Kru'll and Herkimer's captives are already in your thrall. Why not use one of them as our Seventh?"

The worm glared again, and the robot held up his hands.

"All right, if not them, I'm sure turning the older girl or one of his Justice League pals to our side would serve our purpose just as well. Perhaps better. Zatanna's abilities in particular seem—"

"This is the Champion's favorite," the little worm snapped, turning to face the central monitor screen as it shifted to show Freddy walking away from the Captain, Superman and the others with something carefully cradled in his hands. A glowing ball of energy the detective recognized from internet videos of the winter festival where the Shazam Family had first defeated Dr. Sivana and the Sins. Realizing the Captain and his team must have done it again, Batman's grim lips almost twitched upwards, but the impulse faded as the worm went on.

"How better to cut him, to hurt him, than to see his best friend corrupted," Mind said cruelly. "To force him to battle the brother he loves best! If the Sins and I can convince that boy, that Freddy Freeman, to choose to come to me…to us…" Mind smiled. "The dark powers of Sabbac may at last have found a new home. Now fool," the worm spat, turning his considerable concentration on Freddy's image, "watch and learn."

The robot grunted and got up, moving toward a bulky-looking device, like a ray-gun out of an old science-fiction movie. Interlocking metal coils surrounded a bundle of clear tubes that flashed different colors – red, green, purple, yellow – until the robot's adjustments shifted them all to blue.

Closing his eyes, the worm took a slow breath then said, "All right, I'm ready. Activate the ray!"


Freddy kept his eyes forward and his concentration steady as he approached the little niche in the wall the old Wizard had set up to magically contain the Eye of Sin. The glowing ball of energy he held in his hand felt strangely cold, as if it was drawing the warmth from his body. And the whispers…

The Sins' voices were like his own thoughts, seeming to come from inside his head as they flooded his mind with images – images of what he could have, what he could be, if he'd only let them in. Wealth, status, the respect of every kid in school. The good life his 'brother' kept from him by forcing Freddy to keep his powers a secret; the fame and power that were a Champion's right!

Like a daydream, Freddy saw himself as himself slapping hands with smiling kids eager to make way for their hero as he headed from class to class through the crowded halls. He saw bullies and jocks, cheerleaders and even his siblings screaming and fawning for his autograph; his face on billboards and buses in every city; Hollywood big shots begging him to be in their movies and commercials…

Blinking the false images away, Freddy snorted and shook his head.

"Nice try, losers," he said and smirked, reaching up to set the crackling ball of demon energy firmly back in its place. "Seriously, how cliché can you get? Thinking you can tempt me with all this empty—"

"Up an' at 'em, lad! We don't want to keep those fish waiting!"

Freddy gasped and lurched straight up from his pillow, his thoughts swimming as if he'd been shocked out of a nightmare. His soft, checkered quilt pooled across his lap and he touched it curiously, his disoriented brain recognizing it as the quilt his Granny had made for Freddy's father back when he'd been a little boy.

"What? Where—" He coughed a little and slid off the high bed to the worn braided rug, staring incredulously at the room around him. This was his grandfather's house – his father's childhood bedroom – the bedroom his Grampa gave to Freddy after his parents got sent to prison. Even in the pre-dawn dimness, he recognized everything: the rocket-ship nightlight; the model airplanes his dad had put together as a kid; the posters of WWII battleships; the toy dinosaurs Freddy used to set up on the mottled green carpet as if it were a swamp or jungle…

The pajamas he was wearing. His favorite train pajamas from when he was little.

Freddy stared at his sleeves, his hands, and swallowed hard, a strange, cold shudder running through him. Cautiously, experimentally, he bent his knee, flexed his hip and back, balanced on one foot and tried a few karate kicks to the air. As he did, he felt no lightning streaks of pain through his hip and spine, no stiffness, no heavy numbness in his leg…but why would he? At seven, Freddy had never broken a bone in his life.

Seven. Of course - he was seven, almost eight! And yet… No, this wasn't right, this wasn't him. But how…?

Flicking on the ceiling light, Freddy dashed to the long mirror on his closet door.

"No way…" he whispered, reaching out to touch his fingers to the cool glass, to trace the reflection of his face.

A face he hadn't seen staring back since he was a little boy.

"No! It's not real. This…this has to be a dream. I was… I am fourteen! I'm a freshman in high school. I'm… I was… Where was I…?"

"You're going to miss breakfast, my lad, if you don't hop to it and get yourself dressed."

Freddy turned from his childhood reflection to see his Grampa framed in his bedroom doorway, tall and prim and dressed as always in his pressed blue suit. Stinging tears welled in the boy's eyes and he rushed to the old man, flinging his arms around his waist and squeezing tight as he breathed in the familiar scents of coffee, pipe tobacco, and that aftershave stuff from the white bottle that always made his nose tingle.

"Grampa!" he cried, his little boy voice muffled against the old man's vest. "I love you, Grampa! I love you so much!"

"My, my!" Grampa said, placing a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "You must have had quite a dream. How about you come have some pancakes and bacon and you can tell me all about it."

"Yah!" Freddy cheered, eagerly trailing his Grampa down the hallway. "But, Grampa, it wasn't a dream. Or... It didn't feel like a dream. I can't really remember. Except... Grampa, what day is it?"

"Saturday," the old man said, striding into the kitchen to set a steaming breakfast plate on Freddy's colorful table mat. "As fresh and fine a morning as the pair of us could ask for. The truck's all loaded up, so the sooner we eat, the sooner we'll be on the lake."

"Can I row today, Grampa? Please?" Freddy asked, humming happily and swinging his little legs under the chair as he crunched into his crispy bacon. No one made bacon like his Grampa, not even restaurants.

Grampa laughed, ruffling Freddy's hair on his way to his own chair. "We'll see, lad. Maybe next week."

But he will let me, Freddy's teenage voice rustled the boy's mind like a chilling wind through November leaves. He'll let me row... Then, the monsters will come and everything will get slammed so sideways...

Something twitched in Freddy's mind and he found himself separated from the scene before him – no longer a child, but his own teenage self, squeezing the padded grip of his crutch as he watched his younger self talk and laugh with his Grampa…the pair of them haunting his heart like ghosts…

"It doesn't have to be that way, you know. Your Grampa doesn't have to die."

A prim, tinny voice tickled like a flea in his ear. The kitchen faded into mist and Freddy frowned, staring around the dreamlike space in search of whoever had spoken.

"What are you talking about?" he said angrily. "It's already happened. Some bastard my parents pissed off murdered my Grampa in cold blood. Except... He didn't come for my Grampa. He came looking for me. But, I... I didn't...""

He glared down at his crutch, his jaw clenching against the searing rage burning in his core.

"Dear boy," the tinny voice said, "you speak as if what's past can never be undone. But nothing's cast in stone. Not when you have magic on your side."

A giant pair of round-lensed spectacles materialized through the haze ahead of him, the glass inside the frames gleaming and shimmering like rainbows.

"...the hell!" Freddy squinted suspiciously. "What is this? Who the hell are you supposed to be?"

"Someone who understands," the tinny voice soothed. "I know you, Freddy Freeman. I know how often you've wished you could return to that day. Take action. Be the hero you failed to be back when it mattered most."

"I..." Freddy's throat closed up and his chest gave a painful lurch. He knew... Intellectually, he knew he hadn't failed his Grampa. He'd heard it from Mary, from Rosa and Victor, from the cops and the social workers and the shrink lady he used to have to talk to twice a week all through elementary school, after he'd suffered through his physical therapy sessions.

But inside...deep, deep down, where it really mattered…

"I didn't fail..." he croaked. "I was injured. That's why...why I couldn't move, why I couldn't reach him..."

"Those are the excuses you say in your head. But I know what's in your heart, my boy. That's why I'm here. To grant your deepest wish."

"Like a genie..." Freddy furrowed his brow. "Is that what you are?" he demanded, glaring the glasses down. "Are you a jinn or...or an ifrit, like Billy's pal Mr. Tawny? One of the Wizard's 'superhero talent scouts'? Is that how you got inside my head?"

The ground lurched beneath his feet and Freddy flailed for balance. The hazy mist faded and he found himself out on the lake in his grandfather's boat, the big, smooth oar clutched in his little hands. His Grampa sat beside him, his face serene as he pulled his own oar through the still water.

But Freddy knew it wouldn't be still for long. Already, he heard the drone of a motorboat, saw it cutting through the water ahead like an approaching shark.

"No," he whispered, his heart pounding in his throat. "No, it can't be real…"

"It's real. It's now," the voice spoke in his ear. "This is it, my boy. Your second chance. A chance to save a life – erase the burden of failure from your heart. To prove yourself the champion you always wished you could become."

The motorboat sped closer, closer, and Freddy's eyes went wide. He saw Ricky's gun, the dark metal glinting in the dawning light, and he leaned forward, a blazing fury searing all his fears and doubts to ash.

"It's him – the man who killed my Grampa! The man who crippled me and left me to drown!" He stood and set his jaw, gripping his oar like a bo staff. "Not this time, you bastard. This time, when you go in the drink, I'm making sure you stay there. Tell me, genie! What do I have to do?"

"Say the word," the voice whispered. "Speak the word, and you can stop those men right here."

"You mean SHA… Sha..." Freddy tried to think, to remember the magic word his brother had chosen to share with him, with all of his siblings. But his rage was like blinders, erasing everything but Ricky's cold eyes, his cruel, grinning face…

"No, Freddy. This is a new word. A new name, just for you. One you'll never have to share."

"What is it?" Freddy snarled, his blazing rage growing hotter, fiercer. "What's the name?"

"SABBAC," the voice hissed in his ear. "Say SABBAC, Freddy, and use your power to make sure these monsters never steal another life. Give these creeps a taste of real justice, just as you've always dreamed."

Freddy's mind flooded with memories – daydreams born of pain and anger; bitter, violent sketches he used to draw in the margins of his notebook…sketches that had earned him trip after trip to the school counselor…

He'd wanted Ricky to drown. He'd wanted that monster to suffer, to hurt as much as Freddy had been hurt, inside and out. Now, with one word, he could make that happen. The 'brat,' the 'useless twerp,' could flip the tables of power - end that murdering bastard once and for all…! In his mind, he could already see the fear in Ricky's eyes, feel the tattooed flesh of his thick neck give way as he dunked the man's head beneath the water and squeezed…

"NO!" Freddy screamed, throwing off the nightmarish thoughts like a soiled, sodden cloak. As he did, a different word of power blazed in his mind like a bolt of lightning and he shouted, "SHAZAM!"


Mr. Mind shrieked in pain as his link with Freddy slammed shut, his amplified voice so shrill even the robot cringed.

Batman narrowed his eyes, peering down from the shadows of his balcony-like hiding place where he'd been watching Mind's attempt at mentally manipulating the Captain's brother play out on the monitor screens, the explosive batarang he'd intended to throw at the console should the boy give in to Mind's attack still securely in his hand.

"Hm," he grunted approvingly even as he saw Freddy's blue-clad image on the screen collapse to his knees in the main hall. The Captain and the rest of the team were at Freddy's side in less than an instant, helping the young man climb to his feet and dust off his cape as he shook off the aftereffects of Mind's cruel trance. "Gotta give those kids more credit."

Freddy had put a dent in Mr. Mind's foul plans, but now the psychic link was broken Batman could take it a step further. While Atom and Mind bickered, each blaming the other for their failure to turn the Champion's lieutenant to their side, he flung his batarang straight into the computer's control system.

Sparks flew, glass cracked, and the monitor screens hissed with static before flicking to black.

"Yiiiieeeekkk! Save me!" Mind yelped, squirming out of his sparking, diode-studded helmet to race up the robot's arm, the two Monsters taking shelter behind the stone table just before the juddering console blew itself into an acrid, smoking heap.

The brilliant flash from the explosion lit the whole cavern, briefly clearing the shadows from every crag and corner. Batman squinted and shielded his eyes, the light revealing two forms heaped against the far wall like a pair of flour sacks - a slender woman and a bearded man he recognized as Rosa and Victor Vasquez, most likely kidnapped by Mind's Monster Society goons when he'd sent them to collect the remaining Shazam kids.

Batman tested his scanner, checking their heat signatures and heartrates. As he'd anticipated, destroying Atom's machine had cleared up the interference that had been blocking his equipment, revealing Rosa and Victor to be unconscious, but otherwise unharmed. At least, for the moment.

Bringing a hand to the comm unit in his ear, the detective backed away from the narrow overhang to begin his report to the team. "Shazam. Superman. Zatanna," he rumbled low in his throat. "I have Mind's location. He—"

Without warning, his muscles tightened painfully and he found himself frozen in place, unable to move his jaw or even blink.

"Why, Mr. Atom! It appears we have a bat in our belfry," Mind crowed, glaring up at the ledge above from his perch on Atom's metallic shoulder. "Demons," the little worm ordered, turning his spectacled gaze to the stone carvings jutting from the cavern's pillars and walls. "Sic 'em!"

At the caterpillar's command, the statues began to shudder and quake, the stone that had held the demons within trapped and dormant for untold epochs splintering and flaking to the ground as they roared and stretched their leathery wings.

Once freed, they swarmed the detective like a flapping cyclone, claws reaching, sharp teeth snapping, fighting each other to get a grip on him – to stare him in the eyes…

Batman strained against Mind's mental grip with all his will, fighting to reach his utility belt. He'd been up against demons before; he knew from experience the danger he could pose to the team should they succeed in possessing his body.

Fortunately, demons didn't respond well to pain – and neither did Mr. Mind. Using techniques of mental control he'd learned from the League of Shadows, among others, Batman managed to move his hand just enough to unclip his taser weapon and jab himself in the side. Electricity lanced through him and he heard the demons shriek, releasing their claws from his arms and shoulders and back. He felt Mind's grip loosening, felt his muscles spasm and twitch, and he fell on his side against the uneven stones. As his consciousness faded, he heard Mind's cruel cackle echoing through the cavern.

"I'm through toying with these children and their costumed playmates," the wicked worm said. "Forget the Seventh member. It's time to take what's ours!"

To Be Continued…


References Include - Justice League vs. Teen Titans; Justice League Dark (movie); Justice League Dark: Apokolips War; Justice League Action; Justice League: War; Shazam! (1981); Batman Begins; Shazam! (movie); Shazam! The World's Mightiest Mortal (Vol.1,2); Shazam! A Celebration of 75 Years; Superman/Shazam: First Thunder, by Judd Winick and Joshua Middleton; Shazam! The Monster Society of Evil, by Jeff Smith; Batman The Brave and the Bold; Shazam! Volume 1, by Geoff Johns; Shazam! #1-15.

Stay tuned for more updates, coming soon! Thanks so much for reading, and all your comments! Please let me know what you think! :D