DANIEL RUMANOS MYSTERIES 😈

THE SPEAR OF ACHILLES

A DANIEL RUMANOS MYSTERY

“The Spear of Achilles?” wondered Millie Drake. “Daniel, is that really what was stolen?”

“Quite so, love,” I affirmed. “According to the legends concerning it, at least, the relic stolen from the Hellenic Heritage Museum was indeed believed to be the spear belonging to that ancient Grecian hero of the Trojan War.”

We were at our headquarters, located as it is in a secret chamber within the golden trapezoidal roof of a certain downtown skyscraper, the interior of which contains our electronic equipment along with numerous strange objects that we have obtained in our ongoing career defending Earth from various bizarre threats.

I was clad in my usual finery, including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, and jungle boots. My panama hat and opera cape hung from a near by hallstand.

My companion, Millie Drake, is an exceedingly beautiful young lady; petite and perfect with luxurious chestnut hair, enchanting violet eyes, and sun kissed skin. The pink dress she wore only served to highlight the wonders of her slender teenage figure.

Also with us was Kit-10, our mobile personal computer that resembles nothing more or less than a small mechanical cat.

“So Daniel,” continued Millie, “you say this Spear of Achilles is rumoured to have strange powers?”

“Indeed so,” I affirmed. “The Spear of Achilles, said to have been made from ash-wood by his father, Peleus, supposedly became empowered with a type of psyche-mentalist force due to its long use by the hero in battle. Achilles, you see, is said to have had as his mother one of the goddesses of the ancient Greek and Roman pantheon, hmmm?”

“Oh my gosh!” Millie exclaimed. “The Greek ‘gods’ were actually the alien race known as Olympianoids!”

“Quite correct, my dear,” I approved. “The Olympianoids being that immensely powerful group of extraterrestrials -- distantly related to our own Algolite race -- that visited Earth during the Bronze Age. The Spear vanished soon after the end of the Trojan War in the thirteenth century BCE, but this relic that is believed to be it was unearthed by an archaeological expedition in the 1970s.”

“Receiving information, s--,” suddenly interrupted Kit-10 in her simulated but pleasantly feminine voice. “Receiving information concerning a transmission of what appears to be Olympianoid energy emanating from the NY Lofts apartment building.”

(It must be noted here that Kit-10, in addition to her other catlike characteristics, is possessed of the total inability to openly show respect to anyone. In fact, the closest she ever comes to it is by referring to me by a slight “s--” sound -- for “sir” -- and to Millie Drake by “m--” -- for “ma’am”.)

“By the Daemonian Spires!” I swore. “If someone is actually activating the powers of the Spear, this could be one of the most dangerous days the planet has ever faced!”

“We need to get over there and stop them!” announced Millie.

“Indeed we do,” I agreed, fetching my hat and cloak. “Come along, Mills, Kit-10, we are going to find the Spear of Achilles!” …

My name is Doctor Daniel Rumanos. I carry within my blood the heritage of the mysterious Watchers of Algol, whose technology is so sophisticated it appears as magic to lesser beings.

Whilst most Algolites live in elitist seclusion from the rest of the Universe, I am an operative for an organisation known as the KOSMIKOS. Assisted by the wonderful Miss Millie Drake, I protect Earth from all manner of menace. I am -- The Daemon-Star!!! …

A short time later on that overcast day, we arrived at the building on which was a sign proclaiming “NY Loft Apartments”.

“Kit-10?” I said. “Can you verify the presence of Olympianoid energy?”

“Scanning now, s--,” replied the mechanical feline. “Affirmative. Systems showing definite energy signals of that type, emanating from an apartment on the fourteenth floor.”

“Daniel,” said Millie Drake, “who could activate something like the Spear of Achilles?”

“Doing that would require quite a bit of mentalist ability,” I replied. “The thief must indeed be an individual of quite advanced psychic skills.”

“Oh my goodness! Do you think it could be… ?”

“Now now, my dear. Let us not speculate until we have more evidence, hmmm?”

“Danger, s--, danger!” suddenly interrupted Kit-10.

Millie and I whirled around to see what the little robot was indicating and beheld an horror indeed. It was an huge mass of blood-red energy descending directly upon us!

“Olympianoid powers!” I said.

Kit-10 fired a shot of her nose laser at the falling energies, but it was to no effect. I then heard Millie Drake scream as the horrid conglomeration of crimson terror continued to approach us.

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the red mass vanished.

“By the Triple Star!” I swore. “That was only a warning, a mere preview of the terrors we -- and indeed the entire planet -- will be experiencing if we do not succeed in stopping this madness.”

With this, my companions and I entered the building and proceeded by the elevator lift to the fourteenth floor. Kit-10 then indicated the apartment from which the emissions were coming, and we entered it, the door lock yielding quickly to my escape artist skills.

We then soon faced the obscene criminal duo that had brought this horror about. They were standing behind a table in the very centre of the small, dimly-lit apartment -- a table on which was the ancient Spear of Achilles itself!

One of them was an insanely-voluptuous young brunette with her mouth painted like an inviting scarlet gash. She wore only a flimsy black negligee and spike heels that made her appear several inches taller than she actually was. She smiled seductively when she beheld me.

Next to the girl was a man seemingly of middle years, clad in a black business suit, his face still showing signs of handsome distinction despite being marked with the results of lifetimes of extreme unhallowed evil. His hair was long and dark, and his countenance decorated with a thin moustache and goatee beard. Most of all, his pale eyes shone with an absolute hypnotic glare.

“Greetings, Rumanos and Miss Drake,” he said, his voice tinged with absolute madness. “My little cutie and I have been expecting you.”

Of course, I recognised him immediately. I recognised his as my oldest and most dire foe, the renegade Algolite who has become the most dangerous criminal in all of Time and Space.

It was Don Wingus!!

“You!” I exclaimed. “Don Wingus. I should have known. So you did escape from the Neon Knights, and have reunited with your daughter Stacy here to purloin the Spear of Achilles from the Hellenic Heritage Museum.”

“Oh of course,” replied the villain. “Of course. Why must you be so excruciatingly dramatic, Rumanos? Are you now going to tell us one of your ‘weird adventures‘ stories? You can add half-naked young girls to it in order to titillate the audience.”

“Wingus,” I said, ignoring his taunts, “you are utterly insane. You cannot control the powers of the Spear of Achilles for whatever diabolical plan you have concocted. It is drenched in the horrors of war and this has turned the energies into complete chaos.”

“Oh, but you are wrong, Rumanos,” returned my foe. “You are wrong. I have complete control over the energy of the Spear of Achilles, and I shall use it to take my rightful place as supreme ruler of the world!”

“Daniel!” cried Millie Drake. “Look!”

As if in reply to the screed of Don Wingus, the blood red glow had started around the form of the Spear. It soon began to grow in size and intensity until its pulsating essence threatened to fill the room, accompanied with a noise as of the clashing of armies.

“Do you see, Rumanos?” queried the evil Magister Don Wingus amidst peals of his maniacal laughter. “Do you see? The powers of the Spear of Achilles are mine to wield according to my will! I shall utilise them to establish my empire on this planet; but first, I shall use them to destroy you!!”

With this, the crimson mass of Olympianoid energy suddenly focused itself and, within an instant of time, began to hurtle directly at Millie Drake, Kit-10 and me!

Kit-10 shots several beams of her nose-laser at Wingus, but it was to no avail, he being protected by the Olympianoid energies at his command.

“Now you will die, Rumanos!” pronounced Wingus. “You and your companions will die!!”

I am wondering if it is at all possible, my dear friends and most loyal readers, that you can even begin to understand and comprehend the sheer terror, forsooth the extreme and unmitigated horror of what we were experiencing. There we were; the beautiful Millie Drake, the robotic Kit-10, and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were, facing the villainous Magister Don Wingus and his dangerously seductive daughter Anastasia. There we were, as the awesome Olympianoid energies of the storied Spear of Achilles hurtled to-wards us -- energies that indeed the criminal Don Wingus intended to use in his insane plot to rule the world!!

“You will now die, Rumanos!” repeated the evil one. “You will now die, along with your friends! You will die, and I -- Magister Don Wingus -- will become ruler of the planet Earth!”

The blood red energies had by now reached us. Kit-10 began to spin and malfunction, whilst Millie Drake and I started to fall to our knees under the pummelling of the powers from the Spear of Achilles.

“It is your end, Rumanos!” continued Wingus. “The Olympianoid power is mine, and this is the day of your final end!”

Then an odd thing happened.

“Father, please don’t do this,” suddenly interrupted Anastasia Wingus. “Please don’t kill Doctor Rumanos. I like him! I want you to make him my plaything when you become ruler of the world. Won’t you do that, father? Please don’t kill him. You can kill that silly Miss Drake and whatever that metal cat thing is, but please don’t hurt Doctor Rumanos! Please! I want him! Please don’t do it, father! Please! Please, father! Please!”

“Stacy you dumb demi-monde!” thundered Wingus whilst slapping his daughter hard across the face. “I am so utterly sick and tired of your ridiculous teenage crush on that damnable old Daniel Rumanos!”

“Daniel, look,” whispered Millie Drake to me. “The energy is changing.”

I immediately perceived that this was indeed the case. The pulsating Olympianoid powers were no longer directing themselves against us. There was no more pain, and we could now again stand firmly on our feet.

“Kit-10,” I called. “Blast him!”

At this, the robotic cat fired a shot of her laser directly at the midsection of the already-distracted Don Wingus. It hit him squarely and caused him to stumble and fall back a few paces.

It was then that the powers of the Spear of Achilles turned on Wingus and his daughter. The energies surged to-wards them and surrounded them, swirling and pulsating with the very power of war.

“No!” cried the wicked Don Wingus in sudden realisation of his dilemma. “No! You cannot do this to me! I am Don Wingus, the rightful dictator of all! All things must obey me! No! No! Nooooooooo!!”

Then, with one final scream from Anastasia and a bellow of rage from her evil father, the energies suddenly vanished from the apartment -- taking the villains with them.

I looked around the room. All was quiet.

“Are you all right, Millie?” I enquired concernedly.

“I’m okay,” she assured me.

“What about you, Kit-10?”

“All systems undamaged and functioning normally,” returned the mechanical kitten.

“So, what happened?” Millie Drake queried. “I know the energy turned against Don Wingus when he was distracted, but where have they gone?”

“The energies of the Spear of Achillles have taken Wingus and his daughter out of existence, hmmm?” I explained. “They have gone to a type of underworld, a land of eternal darkness as spoken of in the old mythologies.”

“But what about the Spear? Is the energy it had gone now? I mean, since it was so old and everything.”

“Kit-10?”

“Scanning, s--,” replied the robot. “Systems show no signs of residual Olympianoid energy.”

“Then all is well,” I announced. “The Spear of Achilles can now be safely returned to the Hellenic Heritage Museum, and we can go back to our headquarters -- until our next case!”

***** DANIEL RUMANOS AND MILLIE DRAKE SHALL RETURN

NEON KNIGHTS

The chamber was dark beyond any natural darkness. An essence of doom seemed to exist like an hovering presence within it. This was due totally to the room’s one occupant.

Clad in a black silk suit with a long blood red necktie, he was a man seemingly of middle years, his face still showing signs of handsome distinction despite being marked with the results of lifetimes of extreme unmitigated evil. His hair was long and dark, and his face was decorated with a thin moustache and goatee. Most of all, his pale eyes shone with an absolute hypnotic glare.

“It is mine,” he said, his voice tinged with utter madness. “It is mine. The Lens is mine, and its power will now be mine to command.”

He was peering at an object on the table before him. It was a clear metallic disk, hoary with unspeakable age yet still impressive of appearance. As he watched, a glow began to emanate forth from the object, a glow of a scintillating orange hue.

“It is the power,” he continued. “It is the power that I shall use to take command of all!”

As he spoke, the light from the lens increased, soon filling the chamber with a dazzling spectrum of orange, blue, and red energies -- accompanied with a sound like unto a military trumpeting.

“It is the power of the Neon Knights!” announced the man. “It is the power that I -- Magister Don Wingus -- shall use to take my rightful place as ruler of the Universe!!”

With this, the evil Don Wingus let forth with a peal of utterly insane laughter. …

My name is Doctor Daniel Rumanos. I carry within my blood the heritage of the mysterious Watchers of Algol, the most intellectually advanced race in all of the known galaxies, whose technology is so sophisticated it appears as magic to lesser beings.

“The Neon Knights?” enquired Millie Drake, a look of wonder on her lovely face. “Who are they? It sounds familiar somehow, but I can‘t really remember.”

“You may have found some reference to them in one of our ancient Algolite texts, hmmm?” I replied. “The Neon Knights were the peacekeeping force of the GN-z11 Galaxy -- the first galaxy to come into existence after the creation of the Universe.”

I was wearing my usual finery -- including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, jungle boots, sunspecs, panama hat, and one of my favourite opera capes -- as I drove my specially modified canary-yellow Edwardian roadster (affectionately known as “Lizzie”) through the suburban streets on that overcast afternoon.

My companion, Millie Drake, is an exceedingly beautiful young lady; petite and perfect with enchanting violet eyes, chestnut hair, and sun-kissed skin. The powder blue dress she wore only served to highlight the wonders of her slender teenage figure.

Kit-10, our mobile personal computer that resembles a small mechanical cat, had stayed back at headquarters to perform a systems upgrade.

Millie and I had recently been summoned back to New York City by Kit-10, who had received information on a case requiring our immediate attention. We had been to Allentown, Pennsylvania to visit our two adopted daughters, Tova and Zohara, at the Hebrew school they attend there. It was now imperative that we return to the NYC area to investigate a certain robbery -- forsooth, a robbery of eldritch portent and paranormal danger beyond all sane imagining.

“So this Lens thing that was stolen once belonged to the Neon Knights?” enquired Millie.

“It is believed so,” I affirmed. “You see, the Lenses were a form of psychic technology developed by the Knights to focus their own mentalist abilities through their armour. They were made of a certain transparent psyche-sensitive metal found only in that galaxy. After the early galactic wars ended, over four billion years ago, our own Aeternusian ancestors, who were allies of the Neon Knights, gathered up the Lenses and had them deactivated and destroyed so they would never fall into the wrong hands. However, it has always been rumoured that one of the Lenses had been lost. It seems that it found its way to Earth, and has recently been in the collection of a certain Mr James Padavona, an antiquarian residing in the New York suburb of Westchester. Mr Padavona’s home was burglarised two nights ago, whilst he was away with his family vacationing in Cape Cod. Only the Lens was stolen.”

“Will someone actually be able to use the Lens?”

“It is possible, my dear Mills, if the person is indeed someone possessing an high level of mentalist power. Fortunately for our investigation, our systems back at HQ have been able detected a certain energy signature of the type associated with the Neon Knights emanating from another dwelling in Westchester. Hence our travelling here today. We can…”

“Oh my gosh!” Millie Drake suddenly shouted. “Look!”

I looked behind us at what my companion was indicating. It was an huge mass of scintillating light, glowing and flashing blue and red, and headed in our direction.

“By the Triple Star!” I swore. “It is the power of the lens itself… and it is headed directly at us!!”

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the mass of energy suddenly vanished.

“Daniel, what happened to it?” questioned Millie Drake.

“That was simply a subsidiary of the Neon Knight energy that someone is evoking near by to us, hmmm?” I pondered. “The actual power will be far more potent.”

We parked the car and got out on a residential street. I then reached into my jacket pocket and took out the transonic mezuzah, then utilising it to scan the area.

“According to the transonic,” I said upon looking at the resultant readout before returning the device to my pocket, “the Lens energy is emanating from over there.”

I indicated a large private house across the street. There was a sign outside of it saying “For Sale” along with the telephone number of a real estate agent. Millie and I crossed the street and approached the property.

“So the person who stole the Lens is using this unoccupied house?” asked Millie.

“So it appears,” I replied. “We must confront them and stop this outrage before it is too late for the sanity of this world!”

The front door was unlocked and we entered the house. It was dimly lit, but Millie and I proceeded cautiously on through several rooms before entering the correct one. Upon a table that had been set up in its centre was the very Lens of the Neon Knights itself -- and behind the table was a man in a black suit. Of course, I recognised the man immediately. I recognised him as my oldest and most dangerous enemy -- the renegade Algolite who has become the most wanted criminal in all of Time and Space.

“You!” I said. “Don Wingus. I should have known. So you did escape from the Scimitar of Saladin.”

“Greetings, Rumanos and Miss Drake,” sneered the malefactor. “I have been expecting you. You are just in time; just in time to witness my supreme triumph. For it is now that I shall achieve my greatest victory; it is now that I -- Magister Don Wingus of Daemonia -- shall use the Lens of the Neon Knights to conquer the Universe!”

“Wingus, you madman!” I countered. “The power of the Lens is far too dangerous. That is why our ancestors wanted it destroyed. You cannot control it.”

“Oh, but you are so wrong, Rumanos,” he returned. “You are so wrong, for I have already brought the powers of the Lens under my control -- powers that is shall use to establish myself as ruler of this planet, and in time of the Universe itself!”

With this, the energies from the Lens of the Neon Knights suddenly burst forth, a dazzling display of extreme power that began to flash orange and blue and red around the chamber, along with a noise as of trumpeting.

“Do you see, Rumanos?” exulted the wicked Don Wingus. “Do you see? It is the power of the Neon Knights, and it is mine to command!!”

I indeed wonder if it is at all possible, my dear friends and most indulgent readers, that you are even able to comprehend the extreme terror, forsooth the total ungodly horror that we were at that time experiencing. There we were, the lovely Millie Drake and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were, facing the evil intergalactic criminal known to eternal infamy as Magister Don Wingus. There we were, as the power of the Lens of Galaxy GN-z11 flowed forth around the chamber -- a potentially deadly force that the wicked Wingus intended to use in his mad scheme to conquer the entire Universe!

“Do you see the power, Rumanos?” repeated the utterly mad Don Wingus. “Do you see it? It is the power of the Neon Knights, and I shall use it to establish my rule over all!”

The pulsating power of the ancient alien Lens then continued to grow in brightness and intensity. Soon the entire chamber was filled with its scintillating glow.

“Daniel, what can we do?” Millie queried.

“Worry not, Mills,” I replied, removing the transonic mezuzah from my pocket. “This moment has been prepared for.”

Turning my device to a certain setting, I raised it to-wards the powers flowing around the room. Then I activated it.

A whirring sound was heard from my transonic instrument as the setting turned on. At first there was no discernable effect, but within a few moments a definite change was beginning to occur.

“Daniel,” whispered Millie Drake to me, “the energies seem to be changing somehow.”

“Quite so, love,” I told her. “Watch!”

As we looked on, the dazzling energies of the Neon Knights seemed to reverse the direction in which they were rotating. Within seconds, with an enormous trumpeting sound, they started to rush all together to-wards the form of Don Wingus!

“What!” he suddenly cried out in confusion. “What is happening? Rumanos, you meddling pest -- what have you done?!”

“Well, you see,” I rejoined. “The Kosmikos of Algol knew that there was a chance that the missing Lens would turn up again, hmmm? To counter this, a portion of the technology used by our ancestors to deactivate the Lenses was included in certain gadgets carried by some Kosmikos Agents. I have therefore used this to cause the powers to be drained back and go safely out of this reality -- whilst taking you with them, Wingus!”

“No! No no no no no! You cannot do this to me! I am Magister Don Wingus! I am the rightful master of all creation! I am… ! I am… ! I… ! I… ! I… !”

With this, the energies of the Neon Knights surrounded Don Wingus and, within mere moments, vanished from the chamber along with him. All was then quiet.

I then scanned the area with the transonic before returning it to my pocket.

“It is finished,” I announced. “The powers of the legendary Neon Knights have now faded completely out of existence. The ancient Lens has no residual energy left, so it will be safe to return it to Mr Padavona’s antique collection.”

“But what about Don Wingus?” enquired Millie Drake. “Is he really gone?”

“He was psychically linked to the power when it ceased to exist,” I explained. “His evil self has now entered the realm of nothingness and is no more -- this being a fitting tribute to the legacy of the Neon Knights!”

***** DANIEL RUMANOS AND MILLIE DRAKE SHALL RETURN

HOLY WAR

“Yes, my dear Millie,” said I, “it was actually the relic known as ‘The Scimitar of Saladin’ that was stolen from the Metropolitan Museum.”

Dressed in my usual finery -- including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, jungle boots, panama hat, sunspecs, and one of my favourite opera capes -- I was driving my specially modified canary yellow Edwardian roadster (affectionately known as “Lizzie”) through the streets of downtown Manhattan.

In the passenger seat was my companion, Millie Drake, an exceedingly beautiful young lady with luxurious chestnut hair, enchanting violet eyes, and sun-kissed skin. The flowered dress she wore only served to highlight her wonderful adolescent figure.

Kit-10, our mobile personal computer that resembles nothing more or less than a small mechanical cat, had stayed back at our headquarters to monitor the systems.

“And this scimitar really belonged to Saladin?” enquired Millie. “The Thirteenth Century Sultan of Egypt and Syria who fought against the Crusaders?”

“Quite so,” I affirmed, “and it is said to have absorbed quite a lot of psyche-mentalist power due to its use in such a massive conflict of faith. It is likely the burglar, who had the ability to disable the museum’s security systems, is an occult adept who intends to use the Scimitar for quite nefarious purposes.”

“Oh my gosh, Daniel!” exclaimed my friend. “You don’t think it could be… ?”

“Now now, Mills,” I admonished. “Let us not speculate before we have all the facts. Fortunately, our computer systems back at HQ were able to ascertain a location at which powers similar to those of the Scimitar of Saladin have been detected. So we shall know the truth of this outrage -- and of what horrors we will be facing -- soon enough!” …

Unknown to us at the time, at a near by location, a scene of extreme grotesquery was being played out. It consisted of a darkened room in which was a table covered with a black silken cloth. Upon the table was, hoary with age but still of commanding aspect, the very Scimitar of Saladin itself!

Behind the table was a man clad in an ebon vestment robe. He was seemingly of middle years, his face still showing signs of handsome distinction despite being marked with the signs of lifetimes of total obscene wickedness. His hair was long and dark, and his countenance was decorated with a thin moustache and goatee beard. Most of all, his pale eyes shone with an absolutely hypnotic glare.

“It is mine!” he spoke, his voice tinged with complete and utter madness. “The Scimitar of Saladin is mine, and I -- Magister Don Wingus -- shall use its power to rule this world!”

At this, a strange glow of eldritch darkness began to emanate from the curved blade of the old Arabian sword, an horrid black radiance that started to grow in intensity as the evil Don Wingus gave out a cackle of insane exultation. …

“Is this where the energies were coming from?” asked Millie Drake.

“Quite so,” I replied. “According to our instruments back at headquarters, this is where the Scimitar may be found.”

We had parked Lizzie at the corner just as the sunset darkened the cityscape, and were now approaching the location in question -- an old building that, according to its faded sign, had at one time been the location of a dance nightclub.

Little did we know that, a few metres distant, a certain figure was watching us from behind a parked panel truck. It was an insanely-voluptuous teenage girl with raven hair, luminous blue-green eyes, and a mouth painted like unto an inviting scarlet gash. She wore only a tiny red bikini and spike heels that made her look several inches taller than she actually was. As she watched us, she reached and retrieved a certain object from her ample cleavage.

I reached into my jacket pocket and took out my transonic mezuzah. I then utilised it to scan the area.

“According to the transonic,” I announced upon looking at the resultant readings before returning the device to my pocket, “the energies of the Scimitar of Saladin are indeed within this building. Millie, we must…”

As she stood listening to me, Millie Drake had no idea that a large stiletto switchblade was hurtling through the air directly at her heart!

It is only my superior Algolite speed that allowed me to pull Millie out of the way before the knife reached her. We then saw the blade embed itself in a near by wooden lamppost.

“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed Millie. “Someone is trying to kill me!”

“Fortunately, I saw a glint of steel, hmmm?” I explained, looking around. “It appears the person who threw the knife has now left the area.”

We then continued onwards, entering the old nightclub building. Its interior was lit only by a few black candles, but we soon found what we sought. Standing behind a table on which was the Scimitar were two figures. One was a man in a darksome vestment robe, the other a voluptuous young girl.

Of course, I recognised them immediately. I recognised the man as the villainous Algolite criminal who has become my most dangerous foe, and the girl as his whorish offspring.

“You!” I said. “Don Wingus. I should have known. So you and your daughter Anastasia here did escape from the Shroud of Turin, and it was you that robbed the Metropolitan Museum -- purloining the Scimitar of Saladin in order to utilise its storied powers in your evil schemes.”

“And it was your daughter who tried to murder me!” added Millie Drake.

“Greetings, Daniel Rumanos and Miss Drake,” mocked the evil Don Wingus. “We have been expecting you. I have indeed taken the Scimitar as my own, and I shall utilise its powers in a way that only I can -- to evoke a conflict in this world, a new holy war that will end with the nations of Earth bowing at my feet!”

“Wingus, you infernal madman!” I charged. “You cannot control the energies of the Scimitar of Saladin. They are spawned by the total chaos of war. They are beyond any possibility of control.”

“Oh, but you are wrong in that, Rumanos.” returned Don Wingus. “You are quite wrong. The powers of the Scimitar of Saladin are mine to control, which I shall now prove by using them to rid myself of you and your meddling ways. Tonight, by the energies I wield, I do bring your death!”

Then, a sudden burst of black energy came forth from the old curved sword -- a burst of darkling eldritch power that surged forth directly at Millie Drake and me!

Do you even now recognise the horror, forsooth the unspeakable occult terror of what we were experiencing? There we were, the wonderful Miss Millie Drake and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were, facing the evil Magister Don Wingus and his dangerously seductive daughter Anastasia “Stacy“ Wingus. There we were -- as the awesome supernatural powers of the legendary Scimitar of Saladin rushed directly at us! These being the very powers that the insane villain intended to utilise in his mad scheme to conquer the planet Earth!!

“You will now die, Rumanos!” reiterated Don Wingus amidst peals of his utterly insane laughter. "You will now die, and the powers of the Scimitar of Saladin shall be at my command forevermore! I shall rule this world!!”

The energies had by now reached Millie and me, and we began to feel the extreme pain of them -- pain that caused us to start to crumple to the floor.

“Die, Rumanos!” exulted the Algolite criminal. “Die! Die! Die!”

“No, Father, please,” suddenly interrupted Stacy Wingus. “Please don’t hurt Doctor Rumanos. You can kill that silly Miss Drake if you want, but leave him for me, okay? I like him. I want to play with him when you become ruler of the world. Please don’t kill him, Father. Please!”

“Stacy, you witless wanton!” shouted Don Wingus in anger as he struck his daughter hard across the face. “I am so very sick and tired of your age-gap obsession with that ridiculous old Rumanos! It is interfering with my plans; do you understand me? Stop it!!”

I noticed that the energies pummelling Millie and me had lessened somewhat. At this, I quickly moved forwards and gave the evil Don Wingus a kung fu kick to his head.

“Daniel, look!” said Millie. “The energy is reversing!”

Indeed so, at that very moment the black powers of the Scimitar changed their direction and began to surge directly at the evil Magister Don Wingus and his daughter!

“What!” said Don Wingus in sudden terror at what was occurring. “No! You cannot do this to me! I am Magister Wingus, the rightful ruler of worlds! I am the one who should have all power eternally! I am the one who is destined to be supreme dictator of all! You cannot defeat me! I am… I am… I… !!”

At this, the powers of the Scimitar completely surrounded Wingus and Anastasia. I heard the girl scream and her father let out one final bellow of rage before they, along with the dark energies, suddenly vanished from the room.

I looked around the area of the old nightclub. All was now quiet.

“Are you all right, my dear Mills?” I enquired concernedly.

“Yes, I’m okay,” she replied. “Are you okay?”

“I am fine, love. The powers of the Scimitar of Saladin are no more.”

“But what happened?”

“When Don Wingus lost his concentration, the energies turned upon him, taking him and Stacy out of existence.”

“Where have they gone?”

“To another plane of reality, so to speak. To a place where they will be punished for their myriad crimes, hmmm?”

“So, what about the Scimitar?” Millie then queried.

Removing the transonic mezuzah from my pocket, I walked over to the table on which was the old sword.

“Hmmm,” I pondered after scanning the relic. “It seems that all of its residual energy has indeed been drained. The Scimitar of Saladin can now be safely returned to the Metropolitan Museum. Its legacy is complete.”

***** DANIEL RUMANOS AND MILLIE DRAKE SHALL RETURN

CRAZY TRAIN

A DANIEL RUMANOS MYSTERY

It had been a quiet afternoon at our headquarters in the heart of New York City when the instruments began to scream. The DiTraS sphere -- our trans-dimensional travel device -- flashed crimson warnings across its holographic display. Anomalous energy readings. Psychic spikes off the charts. Source: the 4:15 Metro-North train departing Grand Central Station, bound for the suburbs.

“Daniel,” said Millie Drake, her violet eyes wide with concern as she adjusted her hot-pink mini-dress, “this isn’t just interference. It feels… hungry.”

I straightened my frilled poet shirt beneath the purple velvet suit jacket, checked the transonic mezuzah in my pocket, and grabbed my panama hat and opera cape. “Indeed, my dear. Something -- or someone -- is turning that train into a rolling madhouse. Passengers are reporting uncontrollable laughter, violent outbursts, and visions of impossible geometries. By the Spires of Daemonia, we must board before it reaches the next station!”

We raced to the platform in our yellow Edwardian roadster, Lizzie, and slipped aboard the train just as the doors hissed shut. The car was packed with ordinary commuters -- businessmen, students, tourists -- yet the air hummed with unnatural tension. A woman in the corner giggled hysterically, clawing at her own face. A man across the aisle stared blankly ahead, muttering equations that twisted into curses in dead languages.

“Stay close, Millie,” I whispered, scanning with the mezuzah. Its high-pitched whine confirmed it: extradimensional leakage. Not from our Olympianoid or Wotanian cousins this time, but something even older. Something that fed on sanity itself.

We moved through the swaying cars, the rhythmic clack-clack of the wheels on the tracks growing louder, almost mocking. Suddenly, a conductor appeared -- tall, gaunt, his uniform oddly pristine, eyes glowing with a sickly green light. “Tickets, please,” he intoned, but his voice echoed with a thousand mad screams layered beneath.

“You are no ordinary railman,” I declared, levelling the mezuzah. “Reveal yourself, entity!”

The creature’s form rippled. Flesh melted away to expose a writhing mass of neural tentacles and crystalline circuits—a hybrid horror born of forbidden Algolite experiments and ancient Earth rail lore. “I am the Conductor of Madness,” it hissed, its voice now a cacophony. “I have ridden the rails of a hundred worlds, siphoning the minds of travellers to fuel my eternal journey through the void. This train is now my Crazy Train -- and you two are the next passengers!”

Millie screamed as tentacles lashed out, wrapping around her petite frame. I unleashed a burst of Daemon-Star energy from my outstretched hands, the blue-white flame of Algol scorching the appendages. She broke free, rolling across the floor in a graceful tumble that would have made any gymnast envious.

The train lurched violently. Lights flickered. Passengers descended into full pandemonium -- some dancing wildly, others weeping blood. The Conductor laughed, a sound like grinding metal and shattering glass. “Feel the rhythm! The rails sing of chaos! Join the dance or lose your minds!”

I dodged a swinging briefcase from a berserk salaryman and activated the mezuzah’s full spectrum. “Millie, the emergency brake -- override it manually if you must! I shall hold this abomination!”

She nodded, violet eyes fierce, and sprinted toward the front car. Meanwhile, I engaged the entity head-on. My superior Algolite physiology allowed me to channel raw cosmic force. I blasted it repeatedly, but the Conductor absorbed the energy, growing stronger, feeding on the collective insanity it had unleashed.

“You cannot stop the motion!” it roared, tentacles whipping faster than sight. One caught my cape, slamming me against a window. Glass cracked. The suburbs blurred past outside at impossible speed. The train was no longer on earthly tracks—it had phased partially into the madness dimension, its velocity feeding the entity’s power.

“Daniel!” Millie’s voice cut through the din from the intercom. “I’ve reached the controls, but it’s resisting! Some sort of psychic lock!”

“Hold on, love!” I shouted. Drawing upon the deepest reserves of my Watcher heritage, I focused my will. The transonic mezuzah hummed in harmony with my thoughts. I reversed its polarity and jammed it into the Conductor’s central crystal nexus—a throbbing heart of stolen sanity.

The effect was immediate. The entity shrieked as feedback looped through the train’s systems. Madness reversed like a tide. Passengers blinked, confused but sane once more. The tentacles withered. The Conductor’s form destabilized, collapsing into a swirling vortex of green light.

“Noooo! The rails… my rails…” it wailed, its voice fading into the distance.

With a final surge, I hurled the vortex out through the emergency hatch Millie had opened. The entity spiralled away into the void between dimensions, banished to ride phantom tracks for eternity -- never to plague mortal minds again.

The train slowed to a normal speed, pulling into the next station amidst bewildered but grateful passengers who would later dismiss the incident as mass hysteria. Millie and I stepped off, dishevelled but triumphant. I brushed dust from my velvet jacket as she smoothed her dress.

“Well, my dear,” I said with a grin, “that was quite the ride. Shall we celebrate with some dinner? I hear that new anime-themed place near Times Square has excellent miso soup.”

Millie laughed, linking her arm with mine. “Only if you promise no more crazy trains for at least a week, Doctor Rumanos.”

We strolled away as the sun set over the city, the clack of distant rails fading into ordinary evening noise. The planet Earth was safe once more -- thanks to the Daemon-Star and his irreplaceable companion.

***** DANIEL RUMANOS AND MILLIE DRAKE SHALL RETURN

SYMPTOM OF THE UNIVERSE

A DANIEL RUMANOS MYSTERY

My name is Doctor Daniel Rumanos. I carry within my blood the vastly superior genes of the mysterious Watchers of Algol, the most intellectually advanced race in all of the known galaxies, whose technology is so sophisticated it appears as magic to lesser beings. Assisted by the beautiful Miss Millie Drake, I protect Earth from all manner of menace. I am — The Daemon-Star!!! ...

It began with the headaches.

Not ordinary migraines, mind you. These were cosmic. People across Manhattan reported waking up with their skulls ringing like struck gongs, hearing whispers that sounded like the birth cries of stars and the death rattles of galaxies. One cab driver on Fifth Avenue drove his taxi straight into the East River while screaming about “the black sun laughing.” A barista at a Village coffee shop collapsed mid-latte, babbling equations that later proved to be the precise coordinates of a rift opening somewhere between the Crab Nebula and Betelgeuse. The CDC was baffled. The tabloids called it “Star Flu.” I called it something far worse.

Millie Drake and I were at our skyscraper headquarters on the East Side when the first real clue arrived. She was curled on the velvet chaise in her tight blue skirt and bright orange blouse, long reddish-chestnut hair cascading like a waterfall of fire, typing reports on her laptop. I stood at the window, sipping Turkish coffee laced with a drop of Algolitish star-water that keeps my powers at peak resonance.

“Daniel,” she said, not looking up, “three new cases this morning. All victims described the same vision: a giant eye made of darkness, staring from the center of the universe. And every single one of them had this weird mark on their forehead afterward — like a bruise shaped like the Algol symbol.”

I turned, my eyes narrowing. “The Algol symbol? That’s no coincidence, love. Someone is using a perversion of our own people’s sigil to tear holes in spacetime.”

Before she could reply, the phone rang. It was Detective Lieutenant Frank Caruso of the NYPD — one of the few mundane humans who knows the truth about me. His voice was ragged. “Rumanos, you gotta get down to Central Park. There’s a guy levitating thirty feet up, screaming in a language that sounds like backwards Latin mixed with static. He’s calling himself ‘The Symptom.’ Says the universe is sick and he’s the fever.”

We took the Daemon-Star hover-car — invisible to radar and most human eyes — and arrived in minutes. The scene was chaos. A crowd of onlookers gawked while a skinny young man in a torn hoodie floated cross-legged above the Sheep Meadow. His eyes glowed with unnatural darkling light. The air around him rippled like heat haze on a black hole’s event horizon.

I stepped forward, my long cloak swirling in the unnatural wind. “You there! Identify yourself!”

The floating man’s head snapped toward me with a crack like breaking bone. “Doctor Daniel Rumanos,” he hissed, voice echoing with a thousand overlapping tones. “Watcher spawn. You feel it too, don’t you? The itch at the edge of reality. The universe is infected. And I… am the first symptom.”

Millie whispered behind me, “Daniel, his aura — it’s not human. It’s like… an echo of something older than the Watchers.”

I raised my right hand, letting the bright orange and blue energy of the Daemon-Star flare around my fingers. “Then let us prescribe a cure.”

He laughed — a sound like collapsing stars — and unleashed a wave of pure entropy. Trees withered to skeletons in seconds. The grass turned to cosmic dust. I countered with a shield of Algolite force, the two energies colliding in a silent explosion that sent tourists fleeing.

The battle was brutal. The Symptom was not one being; he was a manifestation — a psychic virus seeded by the ancient enemies of my people, the renegade Watchers of the Black Star Cluster. They had grown tired of merely conquering galaxies. Now they wanted to unravel existence itself, starting with Earth as patient zero. Every victim they infected became a new vector, spreading the “symptom” until the fabric of spacetime tore open and the universe bled out.

I dodged blasts of anti-matter whilst Millie worked her own magic — the kind that comes from quick thinking and a concealed Algol-tech gauntlet I had given her. She hacked the man’s floating form with a disruption pulse, forcing him down to the ground. He landed hard, still grinning that mad, star-filled grin.

“You can’t stop it, Daemon-Star,” he snarled as I grabbed him by the collar. “The eye is already open. The universe is coughing up its own death.”

I stared into those black eyes and saw the truth: a colossal entity — not a god, but a wound in reality itself — feeding on the collective unconscious of every sentient being who had ever looked up at the night sky and felt small. The Black Star Cluster had weaponized existential dread.

There was only one way to cauterize it.

I placed my palm against the Symptom’s forehead, channeling the full power of my Watcher heritage. Golden light poured from me into him, burning away the infection at its source. He screamed — a sound that echoed across dimensions — and the darksome glow died. The mark on his brow vanished.

But it was not over.

Across the city, every infected person simultaneously awoke from their cosmic nightmares. Sirens wailed in the distance as the last echoes of the rift sealed with a thunderclap that rattled windows from Harlem to Battery Park.

Millie helped me to my feet. I was drained, but alive. “You did it,” she said softly, her hand on my arm. “Again.”

I looked up at the clear blue sky, the ordinary, beautiful, finite sky. “For now, darling. But the universe is vast. And sometimes even the cosmos catches a cold.”

We walked back to the hover-car as the sun set over a city that would never know how close it had come to becoming nothing more than a fever dream in the mind of dying reality.

Later that night, back in our headquarters, Millie poured us both glasses of vintage manischewitz. I raised mine in a toast.

“To the Watchers,” I said. “And to the small blue world that somehow keeps surviving the symptoms of eternity.”

She smiled that radiant smile that always reminds me why I fight. “To the Daemon-Star.” ...

***** DANIEL RUMANOS AND MILLIE DRAKE SHALL RETURN

SHROUD OF TERROR

“But Daniel, is that what it really is?” wondered the lovely Millie Drake. “Is that what was stolen?”

“Indeed so, my dear Mills,” I assured her. “The purloined relic is indeed -- The Shroud of Turin!”

We were in the computer room of our headquarters, located as it is in the golden trapezoidal rooftop of a great metropolitan skyscraper. I was clad in my usual finery; including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, and jungle boots. My panama hat and opera cape hung from a near by hallstand.

My companion Millie is an exceedingly beautiful young lady; petite and perfect with luxurious chestnut hair, enchanting violet eyes, and sun-kissed skin. The royal blue dress she wore only served to highlight her slender teenage figure.

Also with us was Kit-10, our mobile personal computer that resembles nothing more or less than a small mechanical cat.

“But wasn’t the Shroud incredibly well-guarded?” asked Millie. “I mean, I know it is kept in a church, but still they must have security cameras and all, right?”

“Indeed they do,” I affirmed, “but two nights ago when the Shroud was stolen, there was a power outage that took out both the cameras and burglar alarms there in the Cathedral of Turin, Italy.”

“So this is the relic that some believe to be the actual burial cloth of Jesus?”

“That is the belief, though carbon dating and other research have shown that it is, in actuality, a cleverly-wrought medieval icon.”

“So, why would someone steal it? Surely, anyone smart enough to pull off that robbery would know it isn’t real. They couldn‘t sell it without being detected.”

“Millie, realise that whether the Shroud is ‘real’ or not makes little difference at this point, hmmm? The collected devotion of so many of the faithful who have venerated it over the centuries will have filled it with an incredible storage of psyche-mentalist power -- a power that could be tapped and utilised by someone with experience in such things.

“Daniel, do you mean someone like…?”

“Now now, Mills. Let us not suppose anything until we have more facts.”

“So the Catholic Church has kept the robbery quiet?” Millie Drake enquired.

“Quite so,” I confirmed. “Its absence has been kept from the news media. We only know about it from our secret contacts at the Vatican.”

“S--,” suddenly interrupted Kit-10 in her simulated yet pleasantly-feminine voice, “am receiving information through the computer network systems concerning a surge of energy that may be of the type associated with the so-called Shroud of Turin.”

(It should be noted here that Kit-10, in addition to her other catlike characteristics, is completely unable to openly show respect to anyone. In sooth, the closest she ever comes to it is by addressing me by a slight “s--” sound -- for “sir” -- and Millie by “m--” -- for “ma’am”.)

“Good work, Kit-10!” I approved. “From whence is the energy burst emanating?”

“It appears to be from the location of the former Saint Clare’s Roman Catholic Church on Fifth Avenue,” replied the robotic feline.

“Hmmm,” I pondered. “That was one of the church locations closed down recently when the archdiocese downsized.”

“We need to get over there right away!” announced Millie.

“Quite so,” I agreed, retrieving my hat and cloak from the stand. “Nevertheless, be warned. The powers of the relic known as the Holy Shroud of Turin are immense and little understood. This is likely to be one of the most dangerous missions we have ever embarked upon!” …

It was at that exact same time that a grotesquely strange scene was taking place at the location of the aforesaid Saint Clare’s Roman Catholic Church; for inside that supposedly shuttered building an event was being acted out that resembled a religious ceremony -- though not one of the type proper to that place!

Around the remains of the sanctuary had been placed several large candlesticks containing lit candles of ebony black, and on the altar was an object resembling a cloth on which was a figure bearing the apparent marks of crucifixion. It was indeed the stolen Shroud of Turin.

Behind the altar were two individuals, forsooth individuals also quite inappropriate to that place. The first of them was a man seemingly of middle years, his face still showing signs of handsome distinction despite being marked with the results of lifetimes of extreme wickedness. His hair was long and dark, and his face decorated with a thin moustache and goatee. Most of all, his eyes shone with an intense hypnotic glare. He was clad in a long black vestment robe.

The other was an insanely-voluptuous teenage girl with raven hair, luminous blue-green eyes, and her mouth painted like an inviting scarlet gash. She was wearing only a purple string bikini and spike heels that made her appear several inches taller than her actual height.

“It is time, Anastasia,” said the man, his voice tinged with utter madness. “It is time that I shall begin to take my rightful place as ruler over this world.”

“Oh yes, Father,” answered the girl, absently curling her hair with one finger. “This is all so hot! So this thing we got from Italy is going to help you do that?”

“‘This thing’, as you call it, is none other than the Shroud of Turin, and it shall indeed aid me -- with its legendary powers -- to become supreme dictator of Earth.”

“That’s so hot! I like the naked man on it, too. But aren’t you afraid Doctor Rumanos might try to stop you?”

“Stacy, I shall not tolerate any of your ridiculous obsessions with Rumanos! He shall do nothing! The power of the Shroud is mine!”

With this, a burst of multi-hued energy suddenly came forth from the Holy Shroud, soon rotating around the room, its point centralised on the villain.

“Do you see?” he said amidst a peal of his own insane laughter. “The power of the Shroud is mine, and I -- Magister Don Wingus -- shall utilise it to conquer all!” …

Darkness had just fallen over the city, and I was driving my specially-modified canary-yellow Edwardian roadster -- affectionately known as “Lizzie” -- with Millie Drake and Kit-10 by my side.

“So we are almost at the location of the old church?” enquired Millie.

“Quite so,” I affirmed, “and we should soon find out if…”

“Detecting danger, s--,” suddenly interrupted Kit-10.

“Oh my goodness, Daniel!” added Millie. “Look!”

I turned to behold what my companion was indicating and beheld a terror indeed. For at that very moment, approaching our car from behind was an huge mass of occult energy, sparkling with a multi-hued effulgence.

Kit-10 fired several shots of her nose laser at the energy, and I attempted to speed the vehicle away from it, but it was all to no avail. I heard Millie Drake scream as the bizarre force of seemingly-supernatural menace began to descend directly upon us!

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the occult apparition vanished.

“What happened, Daniel?” queried Millie Drake. “It just disappeared!”

“Quite so,” I replied. “It was only a small warning. The full force of the energy from the Shroud will be much more devastating. Ah, here we are.”

We had now arrived at the location of the shuttered church. Millie, Kit-10, and I left Lizzie parked at the kerbside and cautiously approached the premises of the former holy place. Entry was easy, as the doors had long before been forced open by various vandals and burglars. As we made it to the darkened sanctuary, lit as it was only by streetlights shining through the old stained-glass windows -- augmented by several horridly black candles, we beheld them; standing behind the altar on which was the Shroud of Turin were the two villains.

“Don Wingus!” I said his name, the name of the Algolite arch-criminal who has become my greatest foe. “I should have known. So you did escape from the Map of Blackbeard the Pirate. It was you and your daughter Anastasia here who stole the Shroud of Turin, hmmm?"

“Oh, bravo on your powers of deduction, Rumanos,” mocked the villain. “Yes, I have acquired the Shroud, and will use its powers to take my place as ruler of Earth!”

“Wingus, you fiend!” I countered. “You ungodly fiend! You would use this relic that so many people venerate as a thing of holiness in order to further your schemes of world domination?!”

“Oh, of course,” chuckled the evil Wingus. “It is poetic justice, after all. I shall utilise the very forces latent in this ‘holy relic’ to take my rightful place as supreme ruler of the human race. I -- Magister Don Wingus -- shall become dictator of all! But first, I shall use the powers of the Shroud to rid myself of your troublesome meddling!”

With this, a sudden burst of extreme multicoloured energy came forth from the Shroud of Turin and flew directly at my companions and me -- hitting us with a force that began to bring us to-wards unconsciousness.

“Now, Daniel Rumanos,” uttered Don Wingus, “you will die.”

Do you recognise the horror, forsooth the extreme supernatural terror of this situation, my dear friends and most appreciated readers? There we were, the wonderful Millie Drake, the robotic Kit-10, and me, Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were, in the former location of Saint Clare’s Roman Catholic Church. There we were, facing the intergalactic villain known to eternal condemnation as Magister Don Wingus and his dangerously-seductive daughter Anastasia. There we were -- as that same villain wielded against us the power of the Holy Shroud, forsooth the same power he intended to utilise to make himself fascist dictator of the entire planet!

“You will now die, Rumanos!” repeated Wingus as the powers hit us. “You will now die, and I shall be triumphant over all!”

“Oh please don’t do this, Father!” suddenly pleaded Anastasia. “Please don’t hurt Doctor Rumanos! You know how much I like him. Won’t you let me have him to play with when you become ruler of the world? Please, Father? Please!”

“Stacy, you stupid strumpet!” bellowed Don Wingus in anger whilst slapping his daughter hard across the face. “I told you I would not tolerate your sexual obsession with that silly old Daniel Rumanos!”

It was then that I noticed something. The force of power from the shroud that had been hitting us had now lessened.

“Kit-10!” I called. “Blast him now!”

At this, the little robot shot a burst of her nose laser directly at Don Wingus, hitting him in his midsection. It succeeded in causing him to fall back several paces.

“Daniel,” said Millie. “The power; it seems to be… reversing!”

Indeed, the strange multihued energies that had been called forth from the Shroud had changed their course -- and were now rushing directly to-wards the wicked Don Wingus and his daughter!

“No!” he cried in outrage. “No! You cannot do this to me! I am Magister Don Wingus, the rightful ruler of all the world! I am the superior being! I am… ! I am… ! I… !”

I heard Stacy Wingus scream and her evil father let forth one final bellow of indignation before the power fully engulfed them. Then, within seconds, the energy dispersed and faded away -- taking the two occult criminals with it.

“Are you all right, Millie?” I enquired concernedly.

“Yes, I’m okay," she replied. “Are you?”

“I am fine, love,” I assured her. “What about you, Kit-10?”

“Systems undamaged and functioning normally, s--.” answered the computerised cat.

“Good to hear. Excellent shooting, by the way.”

“Of course, s--.”

“But what happened?” Millie asked. “I know that Don Wingus lost control of the Shroud energies, but where did they go? He and his daughter, I mean.”

“The reversing power of the Shroud energies triggered a trans-dimensional reaction,” I explained, “taking them into another reality, outside of Time and Space, where they can no longer do harm.”

I took the Shroud of Turin from the altar and carefully folded it up.

“We will have to get in touch with our Vatican contacts as soon as possible,” I stated, “so that the Shroud can be returned to its proper place. It is Saturday morning in Rome, so the Pope will be up early to watch television.”

“Really?” giggled Millie.

“Indeed so,” I affirmed. “The Holy Father is a big anime fan, hmmm?’

***** DANIEL RUMANOS AND MILLIE DRAKE SHALL RETURN

THE DEVIL'S PLAYGROUND

We had gone to the Township Mall, Miss Millie Drake and I. We had gone there in response to an anomaly that our instruments had detected, an anomaly that was centred on an establishment known by the seemingly-innocent moniker of “The Playground”.

We arrived in the parking lot in our specially-modified canary-yellow Edwardian roadster, affectionately known as “Lizzie”. We alighted from the car and walked into the shopping centre on that sunny afternoon, whilst discussing what we so far knew of the case.

“So, Daniel,” said Millie, “what exactly was the anomaly reading here that we detected from headquarters?”

“It was an elusive energy reading,” I explained. “An extremely powerful energy signature, hmmm? Nevertheless, one that someone or something has managed to largely hide. Even our instruments were only able to detect it briefly.”

I was clad in my usual finery, including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, jungle boots, panama hat, sunspecs, and one of my favourite opera capes.

My companion, Millie Drake, is an exceedingly beautiful young lady, petite and perfect with rich chestnut hair, enchanting violet eyes, and a sun-kissed complexion. The hot pink dress she wore only served to highlight her slender teenage figure.

Our catlike robot, Kit-10, had unfortunately had to stay behind at HQ for a systems upgrade.

We had by now entered the mall and proceeded to the location of The Playground on the first level. It was a large game room with virtually every arcade game from the past of that particular genre, as well as pinball, bowling alleys, table tennis, claw machines, and sundry other entertainments.

The odd thing was, despite the lights and sounds of the numerous games, the establishment seemed to be deserted.

“Daniel,” said Millie, “why isn’t anyone here?”

“A good question, my dear,” I pondered. “This place has been here at the Township Mall for several years, and should have attracted a regular clientele by now in order to survive. It should be quite busy on a weekend afternoon like this.”

“It’s almost like most people don’t even know it exists!”

“Quite so, and that may actually be the case. Perhaps the arcade has been masked from view of human beings except during certain intervals, hmmm?”

“To do that would take great power, Daniel. It must be some alien presence. But why would they do this?”

“A good question, my dear Mills. What we now need to ascertain is if it…”

I was suddenly interrupted by a flash of light from above our heads. I quickly reached into my pocket and took out the transonic turnscrew, an highly advanced scientific instrument in physical form somewhat resembling a writing pen. I then used it to scan the direction from which we had seen the strange light.

“By the Five Stars of Demai!” I swore upon glancing at the resultant readings on the transonic. “This is scarcely believable.”

“What is it, Daniel?” enquired Millie.

“The weird energy readings here at The Playground,” I explained. “According to this, they happen to be… Infinital!” …

Whilst most Algolites live in elitist seclusion from the rest of the Universe, I am an operative for an organisation known as the KOSMIKOS. Assisted by the beautiful Miss Millie Drake, I protect Earth from all manner of menace. I am -- The Daemon-Star!!! …

“Infinital?” wondered Millie Drake. “Do you mean that the Infinitals are here on Earth -- at this arcade?”

“So it appears, love,” I affirmed. “The Infinitals, those immensely powerful ancient beings that are a sort of cousins to our own Aeternusian ancestors. Bored with eternity, they spend all their time playing games, even sometimes kidnapping helpless mortals to play with them.”

“I remember the one who called himself ‘Tinkertrain’, but we met him in Space so far away.”

“Quite so, but it appears now they have established themselves here. If there are several of them together, it could be much more difficult to defeat them than it was with only one, hmmm? The energy reading seems to suggest the presence of a trio of Infinitals existing in an added dimension here at the arcade.”

“So have they been kidnapping gamers from here?” asked my companion.

“More than likely,” I replied. “Unfortunately, the disappearance of an occasional person from a shopping mall is not that uncommon, so it probably went unnoticed by law enforcement.”

“Will we be able to rescue those poor people?”

“Sadly, that is not likely. Mortal human beings would not survive long in the eternal presence of the Infinitals, even should they survive the ‘games‘ that they are subjected to. They would age quickly and die. It is only because our own Algolite forbears took a more properly physical form that we are able to safely interact with Earthlings and similar species, hmmm?”

Suddenly, there were several more flashes of light from above us. At this, Millie and I looked up and beheld an oddity indeed.

“Oh my gosh, Daniel!” cried Millie Drake in horror. “It’s really them! The Infinitals!”

What we saw were three huge faces seemingly floating in a darksome void. They were vaguely humanoid in form, but with a certain aspect that bespoke of both intellectual superiority and unfettered madness. Then they spoke.

“Greetings, Algolites!” said one of them, his voice sonorous yet strangely musical, something like you would expect the host of a children’s television program to sound. “We are happy that you have replied to our summons! We are happy that you are now here to play with us! At last we will have gaming friends who will be able to stay with us forever!”

“Doctor Rumanos and Miss Drake," said another, his voice a variation of the same. “We are going to have some fun here today!”

“Yes we will!” said the third, with a somewhat more feminine voice as mad as the others. “Welcome to The Playground!”

“Now,” said the first, “it is time for your games to begin!”

A flash of light then surrounded Millie and me, and we vanished from the room. …

I found myself in what appeared to be the void of Outer Space, inside a small triangular spaceship. Before me was a control board, on which were several buttons apparently to control the movement and defence of the spacecraft.

I then looked through the front window of the ship and beheld a terror indeed. I realised that I was surrounded by numerous gigantic pieces of rock hurtling through Space. I realised that I was in the middle of an asteroid field -- and indeed that several of the huge floating boulders were moving directly to-wards me! …

Meanwhile, my companion Millie Drake had found herself in a different gaming scenario. She had appeared inside a strange device labelled as a “Bug-Zapper”, located at one end of a long field of mushrooms.

Millie looked at the controls of the device, quickly ascertaining for what they were utilised. Then she looked up and beheld an horror; for at the other end of the field was an huge, long, grotesquely segmented creature. It was crawling back and forth and making its way to-wards her from amongst the mushrooms.

“Oh my goodness!” cried Millie. “A centipede!”

Millie used the controls to move the Bug-Zapper device back and forth, and then hit the button that sent a burst of power to-wards the huge, many-legged arthropod. It hit the creature in its middle but, instead of destroying it -- caused it to split into two centipedes half as large, which then continued their course to-wards Millie’s side of the field!

Millie Drake shot another burst from the machine and it happened again. She noticed that every time one segment of what had been the first centipede was destroyed, the smaller ones remaining started moving -- faster and faster with each division.

As this occurred, other big pests occasionally appeared, including venom-spitting spiders that, fortunately, could be vanquished with a single shot of the zapper. This, however, took time away from concentrating fire on the centipedes, which were quickly crawling closer and closer to Millie’s location.

“Gosh!” she exclaimed. “There are so many of them now!”

And indeed, there soon enough were no fewer than six centipedes, each of them down to a mere sickening head, moving with extreme speed directly at Millie Drake.

The young lady continued firing at the terrible creatures, but could not suppress a scream of horror as they approached her! …

As the asteroids approached my ship, I quickly put my attention on the control board, soon finding out how to control the movement of the craft. More importantly, however, I realised which button controlled the defence system; forsooth a blaster ray that I began to utilise against the hurtling asteroids.

I carefully aimed and pushed the button, causing a laser-like blast to shoot from the ship. It hit one of the largest of the asteroids and caused it to break up into several smaller pieces. I then continued to shoot the smaller ones until they disappeared completely.

And so it went on, with me shooting the large asteroids into smaller ones, until an extra element was added. What appeared to be an alien flying saucer began buzzing around the area, and it then shot several blasts of its own energy weapon at me!

I quickly made some evasive manoeuvres to avoid the blasts from the flying saucer. Then I returned fire. It evaded me for a few moments, but then I managed to fire a blast that hit it, causing the strange alien ship to vaporise.

Nevertheless, then another flying saucer appeared.

This continued for some time, until I had apparently destroyed the last of the asteroids and flying saucers. I was then immediately surrounded by a flash of light and taken from the game area. …

At the same moment, the wonderful Millie Drake had just managed to zap the final segment of the centipede, and similarly vanished from her game in a flash of light. …

Millie and I then found ourselves back in the arcade. The wonderful young lady ran into my arms.

“Daniel, are you okay?” she enquired concernedly.

“Yes, I am fine, my dear,” I replied. “Are you unharmed?”

“Yes,” she said. “They had me play a game that was just like…”

“Congratulations!” interrupted the second of the Infinital voices. “You have completed the first of your games here today! But there will be many more! In fact, you will stay with us forever!”

“Yes,” chimed in the third. “You will stay here with us and have fun forever! Forever!”

Is it really at all possible, my dear friends and most appreciated readers, that you can even begin to comprehend the extreme and unmitigated horror, forsooth the supreme ungodly terror of the situation in which we then found ourselves? There we were, the lovely Miss Millie Drake and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were, having played the games of the Infinitals and threatened with more -- more games that eventually we would lose and be cursed to stay forever with the mighty but perverse beings that commanded the strange establishment known as The Playground!

“You will stay with us forever!” said the first Infinital.

“Forever!” repeated the second. “You will play with us forever!”

“We will have so much fun and play so many games,” added the third, “forever here at The Playground!”

“Forever! Forever! Forever!” they all repeated in unison, amidst peals of highly-pitched insane laughter.

“Now wait just a minute, hmmm?” said I. “You seem to be forgetting something. The only limit to Infinitals is that you have to follow the rules of the game, correct?”

“That is correct,” said the first voice.

“It is,” affirmed the second.

“It is true,” confirmed the third. “It is true.”

“Well, in that case,” I continued, twiddling my frills, “since we have both successfully completed one of your games, you must agree to a challenge from us, correct?”

“That is also correct,” said the first, “but what game could you have that would be suitable for us?”

“Oh, nothing that will at all tax your patience,” said I, taking something from my pocket. "You will see this is an ordinary deck of playing cards, hmmm? It has not been altered in any way.”

“That is true,” said the second Infinital. “They are ordinary cards.”

“They are unaltered,” added the third.

“So the game is that we shuffle the cards, and then we both pick one at random. We are teams, Miss Drake and me against you three Infinitals. We each pick one card, and the team with the highest card wins. Agreed?”

“Yes, we agree!” they all said in unison. “Let us all play and have fun!”

I then shuffled the cards and let Millie do the same.

“Do you wish to shuffle as well?” I asked the Infinitals.

“That will not be necessary,” said the first.

“We see that they have been well mixed,” added the second.

“Yes, they are shuffled,” said the third. “Let us play!”

“As this is your abode,” I said to the Infinitals, “you may have the first draw.”

One of the cards turned over as the Infinitals chose. It was the Three of Spades.

“Your turn!” they said. “Your turn to draw! Your turn!”

“Millie, my dear,” I said. “If you will do the honours.”

Millie Drake drew a card. It was the Ten of Hearts.

“Goodness!” she cried delightedly. “We won!”

“What!” shouted the first Infinital. “This cannot be! We have lost?!”

“No!” added the second. “We have lost?! That is no fun!”

“No fun!” completed the third. “Losing is no fun!”

“You have indeed lost, Infinitals,” I charged, “and with this is a penalty according to the rules of gaming, having now failed to prove your superiority, you are hereby banished from this planet!”

Then, with laments of “No fun!” and an huge flash of eldritch light, the three Infinitals vanished from The Playground.

"Game over," said I.

“So is that the end of them, Daniel?” Millie queried.

“Quite so, my love,” I confirmed. “The Infinitals must abide by the rules of the game. They will no longer bother the people of Earth. They have been banished into the void of Space, far from the environs of this planet.”

“Well that’s good!” she smiled. “Gosh, Daniel! Look!”

By now, numerous mall patrons were entering the arcade, and they began to play the games with much enjoyment.

“Without the influence of the Infinitals,” I explained, “The Playground is quite a nice enterprise. I am certain it will prove quite popular under new ownership. I may suggest it as an investment to some of our most well-heeled associates. Now, let us visit the mall food court for a late lunch, hmmm? I hear that they have an excellent teriyaki establishment.”

***** DANIEL RUMANOS AND MILLIE DRAKE SHALL RETURN