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!” …

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.

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!!! …

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 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!” …

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.

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

KIT-10 AND COMPANY

It was a sunny day in downtown Manhattan when Miss Millie Drake arrived at the Rothstein Company department store. The establishment was celebrating its eightieth anniversary at this location, and the entire area was hung with signs and streamers announcing this, along with promotions of the special offers and entertainments that the venerable store had set up that day for their always much-appreciated shoppers.

Millie Drake herself is an exceptionally beautiful young lady; petite and perfect with luxurious chestnut hair, enchanting violet eyes, and sun-kissed skin. The powder blue dress she wore only served to highlight the shape of her slender youthful figure. Nevertheless, there is indeed much more to Millie than her physical attributes. She works with me as a secret agent of the Algolite Kosmikos, and has proven herself worthy of the highest respect in this vocation countless times over.

With her that day was Kit-10, our mobile personal computer that resembles nothing more or less than a small mechanical cat.

“This should be a fun day, Kit-10,” said Millie. “Too bad Daniel couldn’t be here, but he had to stay at headquarters and finish the complex mathematical formulae to counteract that wandering black hole in the Seventh Ruby Galaxy. He needs to remain completely undisturbed to do that, since any interruption in the calculations could be dangerous.”

“Of course, m--,” replied the mechanical feline. “This unit is fully programmed in the theory of quantum mathematical calculations.”

(It must be noted here that Kit-10, along with her other catlike characteristics, is completely unable to openly show respect to anyone. In fact, 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”.)

“I know that Kit-10,” offered Millie, “but the calculations required an organic mind due to the nature of the anomaly and… Oh look! The store is having a shoe sale!” …

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.

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!!! …

Millie had just purchased three new pairs of shoes and was now busy looking at an assortment of designer handbags.

“What do you think of this one, Kit-10?” she enquired, holding up the shiny silk purse that had caught her eye.

“This unit does not create product reviews, m--,” replied the little robot.

With this, Millie giggled delightfully and decided upon buying the handbag. At the department’s self-checkout counter, she scanned one of her numerous payment cards and then put the purse in a shopping bag before cheerfully skipping on to yet another department in the large Rothstein’s shop.

And so did Millie Drake (alien secret agent) and the robotic Kit-10 continue their shopping trip that day, there amongst so many other department store shoppers. Forsooth, it is an event that would have been rather mundane compared to their usual employments, save for a quite odd and grotesque occurrence -- an occurrence concerning one of the entertainers that the Rothstein Company had inadvertently hired to help celebrate their anniversary.

For at that same time, as Millie and Kit-10 began to browse the department store displays, another individual was preparing to take the small stage that the company had erected in the very centre of the shop. This person was a dark haired girl or young woman, small of stature and clad in a long green dress. As she gazed into an handheld cosmetics mirror, her eyes began to glisten and shimmer with an eldritch red effulgence.

“This is that day,” she said to herself, her voice tinged with madness. “This is the day that I shall show my power to an unsuspecting world. This is the day that the Celtic spirits show their ascendance over this world, with me as their commanding mistress! This is the day I show my right as queen of all! This is the day that Aurelie Greenwolf returns!”

A few minutes later, the person known as Aurelie Greenwolf had taken the stage, doing a rather hackneyed “magic act” that was only meant to serve as a prelude to her actual occult conjuration.

“Oh my gosh!” exclaimed Millie Drake upon beholding this. “Isn’t that… Aurelie Greenwolf?”

“Affirmative, m--,” replied Kit-10.

“She has returned and is back using her ‘magic act’ to attempt to bring the ‘Celtic spirits’ -- actually various alien entities that invaded Earth in past times -- forth in this reality,” said Millie, taking a small silver cylinder from its hiding place on her person -- a cylinder that is actually her transonic lip-gloss, “We must stop her.”

“You cannot stop me, Miss Drake,” sneered Aurelie Greenwolf as a surge of red and black paranormal power appeared around her. “You can do nothing, and I shall use the Celtic power to rule this world!”

With this, Aurelie Greenwolf sent forth a terrifying blast of energies at Millie Drake, a blast that sent the transonic device flying from her hand and sent Millie herself careening backwards across the department store floor!

Do you recognise the horror in this situation, my dear friends and readers? There she was, the wonderful Miss Millie Drake, being attacked by the evil occult powers of the horrid Aurelie Greenwolf -- these being the very powers derived from the alien entities that the villainess intended to use to subjugate the human race to her own perverted will!

“You will now die, Miss Drake!” screeched Aurelie Greenwolf. “You will die -- your body and soul seared by the power of the Celtic spirits! You will die, and I will rule this world!”

None the less, there is one thing that the wicked Aurelie Greenwolf had completely overlooked -- that being a robotic feline known as Kit-10! The mechanical cat had just avoided the edge of the powder surge that had so affected Millie, and now turned directly to-wards the evil Aurelie Greenwolf and sent a bolt of her nose-laser directly at the villainess!

The blast was not enough in itself to seriously hurt the wicked young woman, empowered as she was by the alien “spirits”, but nevertheless it served its purpose. It caused Aurelie Greenwolf to be annoyed -- forsooth, annoyed enough that her concentration suddenly dropped.

The results were quick. The barrage of alien power that had been sent at Millie Drake abruptly halted, and Millie was able to regain her composure and also to retrieve her transonic lip-gloss from where it had fallen just under a display of colourful sport shirts.

Millie quickly programmed the device to a certain setting and aimed it to-wards Aurelie Greenwolf. A strange humming sound emitted from the transonic, and the darksome force suddenly changed direction -- flying directly to-wards its former “mistress”!

“No! No no no!” screamed the villainess. “This cannot happen to me! I am Aurelie Greenwolf, the Celtic Magician! I want to rule the world! I… I... !”

With this, the evil Aurelie Greenwolf suddenly just blinked out of existence, the dark energies going with her. Then all was quiet in Rothstein’s department store -- except for the smattering of applause from the customers who assumed what had just transpired was only part of the day’s entertainment!

“Thanks, Kit-10,” said Millie Drake, returning the device to its secret pocket in her dress. “You distracted her enough that I was able to set my transonic lip-gloss to the exorcism that Daniel programmed in case we ever encounter any residue of the ‘Celtic spirits’. I guess that worked to expel them properly?”

“Of course, m--,” answered Kit-10. “The enhanced human known as Aurelie Greenwolf has been banished to a prison dimension, and my sensors are showing no more evidence of ‘spirit’ activity in the area.”

“Well, it’s good that it’s over then,” announced the beautiful Miss Millie Drake. “Now, I want to buy a new hat for Daniel!”

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

MAPS

“My goodness, Daniel!” exclaimed Millie Drake. “Are you saying that the stolen map was actually made by Blackbeard the Pirate?”

“Quite so, my dear Mills,” I assured her. “Blackbeard, whose real name was Edward Thatch, drew the map during his time as the most notoriously prolific freebooter of the early eighteenth century. Many think it is a ‘treasure map’, but it is actually something quite different. It is, in truth, a coded series of coordinates psychically linking to a precise location along the Hudson River -- a location in which Blackbeard is said to have been empowered with certain occult abilities!”

We were in our secret headquarters, located as it is in the golden trapezoidal rooftop of a certain downtown NYC skyscraper, the ground floor of which is a takeaway restaurant called “The Pizza Gate”, named for its unique gateway-styled entrance.

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

Millie is an exceedingly beautiful young lady; petite and perfect with luxurious chestnut hair, enchanting violet eyes, and a sun-kissed complexion. The purple dress she wore only served to highlight her slender figure.

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

“But what sort of ‘powers’ did Blackbeard have?” enquired Millie.

“According to several chroniclers of the period,” I opined, “he is said to have had the ability to emit bizarre flashes of light -- utilising them to frighten his opponents into submission.”

“But what kind of powers were they?”

“The region was once an outpost of Atlantis, so it is likely that they had their origin in that ancient civilisation. Perhaps Blackbeard discovered a place where some old Atlantean weapon had been stationed, hmmm? He then absorbed some residue of its power.”

“So now someone has stolen the map from its display at the Manhattan Cartography Institute?” Millie queried. “That crime scene where the security guard was found stabbed through the heart?”

“Indeed so,” I replied, twiddling my frills. “The thief -- or thieves -- had the knowledge necessary to disable the security cameras and cover all traces of their identity.”

“So it is someone who wishes to gain the powers that Blackbeard had?”

“Most likely that and more. You see, someone with a background in and knowledge of otherworldly powers could gain much more than Blackbeard the Pirate’s lightshow from that Atlantean technology. It is possible -- just possible, mind you -- that they could use such powers to control others -- and to establish themselves as fascist rulers of Earth!” …

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.

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!!! …

Unknown to us at the time, in an unused boathouse on one of the Hudson River docks, a quite strange scene was taking place. It was centred on a black draped table on which was a map -- in sooth the very same map that my companion and I had been discussing.

Standing at this table were two figures. One was a man seemingly of middle years, clad in a black business suit with a long, blood-red necktie. His visage stilled showed signs of handsome distinction despite being marred with the after-effects of lifetimes of extreme evil. His hair was long and dark, and his face decorated with a thin moustache and goatee. Most of all, his pale eye shone with an absolute hypnotic glare.

The other was an insanely-voluptuous teenage girl with long raven hair, luminous blue-green eyes, and a mouth painted like an inviting scarlet gash. She wore a scarlet bikini top, a black miniskirt, and spike heels.

The man was the one known as Magister Don Wingus, the renegade Algolite who is my oldest and most dangerous foe, in truth the most notorious criminal mastermind in all of Time and Space. The girl is his daughter, the perilously seductive Anastasia.

“We have it, Stacy!” exulted Wingus. “The very Map of Blackbeard the Pirate is mine, and I shall use it -- coupled with my own superior Algolite abilities -- to unite with the Atlantean powers and to establish myself as supreme ruler of planet Earth!”

“But Father,” said the young girl, “won’t Doctor Rumanos and that silly Miss Drake find out about this and try to stop you?”

“Now, Anastasia,” admonished the villain, “I shall not tolerate any of your ridiculous obsessions with that accursed Rumanos. If he interferes, he -- as with all others who oppose me -- shall be destroyed.”

It is then that an onrush of flashing black and silver light began to emanate from the map. The light rose upwards and hovered above the table, as if awaiting instruction.

“Behold!” exclaimed Don Wingus, his face twisted into utter madness. “Do you see? The powers of the map have recognised my superiority, and have offered themselves to me that I may utilise them! I, Don Wingus, shall soon rule over all!!” …

Back at our headquarters, one of the computer systems suddenly erupted with an alarm sound.

“By the Triple Star!” I swore. “Atlantean powers have just been activated somewhere in the city. Kit-10, can you track a more precise location?”

“Accessing, s--,” replied the robotic cat in her simulated yet pleasantly-feminine voice. “Location verified as Boathouse 15 of the East Hudson Marina.”

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

“Daniel, we need to get over there right away,” announced Millie.

“Quite so, my dear,” I agreed whilst fetching my hat and cloak. “Come along, Mills and Kit-10, but be warned -- this is quite likely going to be a very dangerous mission. We are tracking the abilities of Blackbeard the Pirate!” …

A short time later, my companions and I were hurrying to the marina location on the outskirts of the city; a thick leprous fog having settled over the entire area, making the midday nearly dark as night. I was driving my specially modified canary-coloured Edwardian roadster, affectionately known as “Lizzie”.

“So Daniel,” said Millie Drake from the passenger’s seat. “The person who stole the Map of Blackbeard. Since they have to have had such special abilities and knowledge, do you think it could be… ?”

“Now now, Millie,” I admonished. “Let us not speculate before we have more facts, hmmm?”

“S--, m--,” suddenly interrupted Kit-10 from between us. “Detecting a build up of energy directly above our current location.”

At this, Millie and I looked up and beheld an horror -- an huge mass of swirling black and silver eldritch power dropping directly to-wards us!

I immediately utilised one of Lizzie’s special abilities by shifting her into sixth gear and moving forward at near the speed of sound. It was only for a moment, but was enough to propel us out of the way of the darkling power that had been falling to-wards us.

“Daniel,” said Millie, glancing behind us. “It disappeared!”

“Hmmm,” I pondered. “It was likely only a side effect; a comparatively small manifestation of the energies. Forsooth, the full force of the Atlantean powers will not be so easy to vanquish.”

I drove Lizzie farther until we had reached the marina. Then I parked the car and my companions and I got out and cautiously began to approach Boathouse 15.

The fog seemed to even thicker here. It was as if the powers of darkness had rallied to gather together on that fateful day -- that day in which an ancient and profoundly dangerous power was being evoked.

“So, Daniel,” said Millie. “This Atlantean power. Is it what caused that ancient civilisation to be destroyed?”

“Quite right, love,” I affirmed. “It was the ancient priesthood of that island continent having lost control of these forces and fallen into corruption that led to the infamous destruction -- the very sinking of Atlantis as told by the Egyptians and recorded by Plato.”

“So will the same thing happen if someone attempts to use the power now?”

“Quite likely, yes -- especially if it is someone of little moral compass, hmmm? Something that seems quite evident due to the severity of the crime during which the Map of Blackbeard was stolen. In fact, I am quite certain that… ”

At that moment, unseen by me, a long stiletto throwing knife was headed directly to-wards Millie Drake’s heart!!

Kit-10 sent a blast of her nose-laser at the knife just before it reached Millie. The weapon then fell and clattered loudly to the wooden planks of the marina.

“Oh my gosh!” exclaimed Millie. “Someone was trying to kill me!”

“Fortunately, Kit-10’s blaster is faster than the knife,” I said.

“Of course, s--,” added the robotic cat.

“Daniel, look!” said Millie. “That’s who threw the knife!”

I turned to where my companion had indicated and beheld a female figure vanishing into the fog. My friends and I hurried onwards in pursuit, soon following the fleeing shape directly into Boathouse 15.

Inside, we found our answer. On a table was the Map of Blackbeard the Pirate, and behind it were two individuals; one was the girl who had thrown the knife at Millie, and the other was the black-clad criminal that was the evil mastermind behind this and so many other horrid acts of wickedness..

Of course, I recognised the villain immediately.

“Don Wingus!” I said his name. “I should have known. So you did escape from The Al-Hazred Amulet, and re-united with you daughter Anastasia here to steal the Map of Blackbeard.”

“Greetings, Rumanos and friends,” countered the evil one as flashes of dark power appeared around him. “We have been expecting you.”

“So it was indeed you that stole the map from the Manhattan Cartography Institute,” I said, “and so cruelly murdered that security guard.”

“Oh, my little Stacy here performed the latter honour,” chuckled Wingus. “She is quite adept with the knife.”

“So I noticed,” shuddered Millie.

“Wingus, stop this insanity immediately!” I charged. “You cannot properly control the Atlantean energy. It shall destroy you just as it destroyed Atlantis itself.”

“You are quite incorrect, Rumanos,” countered Don Wingus. “My superior Algolite abilities have complete control over the energies of that lost continent. They are a power that I shall use to establish myself as ruler of the world! Indeed, they are powers that I shall first use to bring about your destruction!!”

With this, the pulsating black and silver powers suddenly increased. They increased by a seemingly countless measure. They increased and suddenly surged forwards to-wards my companions and me!

“Now, Rumanos,” exulted Wingus amongst peals of his own mad laughter. “Now -- you shall die!”

Is it possible for you, my dear friends and most-appreciated readers, to even commence in an understanding of the complete eldritch horror, forsooth the total unhallowed terror in which we then found ourselves? There we were, the lovely Miss Millie Drake, the robotic Kit-10, and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were, facing the evil arch-villain known to eternal damnation as Magister Don Wingus, along with his wickedly seductive daughter, Anastasia. There we were -- as the darksome forces of ancient Atlantis began to invade our very being!!

“You will now die, Rumanos, along with your accursed friends!” repeated the criminal Don Wingus, amongst further peals of his absolutely insane laughter. “The powers of the Map of Blackbeard shall sear your bodies and souls, and I shall then take my rightful place as ruler of this world!”

The powers had now surrounded us. Millie and I began to crumple to the floor, whilst Kit-10 spun around as her systems malfunctioned. She had attempted several shots of her laser at the dark energy, but it had no effect.

“No, Father, no!” suddenly interrupted Anastasia Wingus. “Please don’t kill Doctor Rumanos! I like him. I… want him. Please just give him to me so I can make him mine. Please, father. Please?”

“Stacy, you halfwit whore!” raged Don Wingus, striking his daughter hard across the face. “I have already told you that I shall not tolerate any of your stupid schoolgirl crush on that damned Daniel Rumanos!”

I then noticed something. I noticed that the powers that were attacking us had ceased to increase against us. I was then just able to break free and to step forward -- and to strike Don Wingus across the throat with a karate chop.

Wingus fell to the floor just as the now-reversing power reached him and his daughter. I heard Anastasia scream in horror whilst her father bellowed in outrage. Then, in a mere moment, all was silent.

I looked around the boathouse room carefully. There was no sign of the villains or of the dark powers. The map was still upon the table.

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

“Yes, I’m okay now,” she replied, taking my hand.

“And you, Kit-10?”

“Systems undamaged, s--,” returned the mechanical feline.

“So, what exactly happened, Daniel?” queried Millie Drake. “I know that Don Wingus lost control of the energies, but where did they go?”

“The energies will have dissipated into an inter-dimensional realm that is parallel to non-existence. They have taken Wingus and his daughter with them into that realm -- from which they shall do no further harm to this world.”

“Well that’s good. Do you think we have really seen the last of them this time?”

“We shall see,” I pondered. “We shall see.”

I carefully lifted the Map of Blackbeard from the table, rolling it up and placing it in an inner pocket of my jacket.

“So what should we do with the map?” queried Millie.

“I am quite certain it is now safe to return it to the Cartography Institute,” I answered as we exited the boathouse. “The residual Atlantean powers will have been exhausted by the attempt of Don Wingus to use them. The map is now just a symbol -- a symbol of the legacy of Blackbeard the Pirate!”

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

WICKED WICKED WAYS

“By the Daemonian Spires!” I swore. “The Shaitans of Eblis. We have dealt with them before, but the presence of The Al-Hazred Amulet could conceivably create a far more powerful manifestation of them -- in truth, a manifestation of the type unseen since prehistoric times.”

“But Daniel,” asked Millie Drake, “why was such a dangerous amulet to be found there at that mosque on Pacific Avenue, and how was it so easily stolen?”

We were at our secret headquarters, located as it is in the golden trapezoidal rooftop of a certain New York City skyscraper, and containing our laboratory and electronic equipment, along with many alien artefacts and mementos of our career across Space and Time. 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 hot pink dress she wore only served to highlight her wonderful adolescent figure.

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

“The imam of the mosque was unaware of the amulet’s true purpose,” I replied to Millie’s query. “He only saw it as an antiquity of medieval Arabian culture, not knowing that it had actually belonged to the infamous sorcerer known as Abdul al-Hazred. It was on display in a small glass case to the side of the mosque’s main sanctuary, so purloining it was not a difficulty, hmmm?”

“But the thief had to be aware of the amulet’s true origin, right?” returned my friend. “In order to even attempt such a thing, I mean. If the imam didn’t even know, who would?”

“That is indeed the question, love. The thief had to be someone of an high level of occult knowledge, familiar with the story of the Shaitans, those immensely powerful beings who ruled the ancient planet Eblis, at one time the fifth of the Solar System, between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter. They were beings of such incredible power that their mentalist abilities in time corroded the very structure of their planet, causing it to break up many millions of years before intelligent mammalian life even developed upon Earth. This is what created the asteroid belt, hmmm?”

“But even that didn’t kill the Shaitans, right?”

“Indeed not. With their physical forms gone, they then issued forth as beings of pure energy, wreaking havoc across myriad millennia, until they eventually settled on Earth, in the area of the Middle East -- becoming the very demonic spirits worshipped by the people of that region until the Islamic Prophet Mohammed converted the people to the worship of the God of Abraham.”

“So if someone has stolen The Al-Hazred Amulet, and intends to use it to summon the Shaitans, what will they… ?”

“Sensing danger, s--,” suddenly interrupted Kit-10 in her simulated yet pleasantly-feminine voice. “An unknown energy signature has entered the chamber.”

(It should be noted here that Kit-10, along with her other feline characteristics, is possessed of the total inability to openly show respect to anyone. In sooth, 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”.)

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

I whirled around to see that which had so startled my companions, and beheld an horror indeed. At that very moment, forming in the air above us was a swirling cacophony of eldritch black and red energies; energies that, as we watched, began to coalesce into a face. It was a face as unto that of a man of middle years, his visage still showing signs of handsome distinction despite being marked with the results of lifetimes of extreme unadulterated evil. His hair was long and dark, and his countenance was decorated with a thin moustache and goatee. Most of all, his pale eyes shone with an absolute hypnotic glare.

Of course, I recognised this face immediately. I recognised it as belonging to my oldest and most bitter foe, the renegade Algolite who has become the most dangerous and prolific criminal in all the Cosmos.

It was the face of Don Wingus!! ...

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.

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!!! …

“Don Wingus!” I uttered the damnable name of the one possessing the countenance manifesting before us. “I should have known. So he did escape from The Houdini Codex -- and it was he who sent the demon-possessed actor Jim Caviezel against is. Now he has continued his career of evil by stealing The Al-Hazred Amulet and utilising it to call forth the very power of the Shaitans!”

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the unholy phantasm then vanished.

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

“Yes, I’m OK, Daniel,” she replied.

“And you, Kit-10?”

“All systems undamaged, s--,” replied the robotic kitten.

“So was that really Don Wingus?” queried Millie Drake. “Did he actually steal the amulet?”

“Quite so, love,” I replied, “and he has indeed used it to summon the powers of the Shaitans of Eblis. This manifestation was merely a display of bravado, but showing that he could invade the sacred space of our headquarters, even for a brief time, highlights the extreme power that he is now wielding.”

“Daniel, we have to stop him!”

“Quite so, and we must begin by ascertaining from where he is operating, hmmm? Kit-10, can you trace those energies to any starting point?”

“Accessing,” replied the robot. “Systems detect the origin point to be beneath the address at the corner of Pacific Avenue and Martin Luther King Boulevard.”

“Interesting,” I said, accessing some information on one of the computer consoles. “That is a former church basement that was once used as a ‘soup kitchen’ for the city’s poor. The sufferings undergone at such a location would be conductive to the dire powers of the Shaitans, hmmm?”

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

“Quite so,” I agreed whilst fetching my hat and cloak. “Come along Mills, Kit-10. We have demons to fight.” …

A short time later on that overcast day, we arrived at the location, located as it was in an old shuttered church building on the corner of Pacific and MLK.

“Be aware,” I warned my companions. “Wingus shall not be here alone. There are likely agents of Spectral Paranormal already watching us.”

Millie, Kit-10, and I walked cautiously around the church to the small flight of steps leading to the basement. Strangely, a figure was walking up them to-wards us. He was an obese man of medium height, dressed in a sport shirt and shorts, his skin pale and eyes blue, and his face covered with a rather scruffy growth of beard.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he questioned, his voice humorously high-pitched. “My name is Dave Eddings, and I’m here to help people in need.”

“Pardon us for having to barge past, my good man,” I replied, “but you should be aware that this establishment is being utilised for something of extreme occult evil.”

“Oh, really,” he rejoined, scratching his beard. “Wait. Do you mean… what my master is doing?”

With this, the man who called himself Dave Eddings suddenly struck me in the face, a blow not of mere human strength -- a punch that set me careening across the pavement!

“Kit-10!” I heard Millie Drake call. “Blast that man!”

The robotic cat then sent a bolt of her nose-laser at Dave Eddings. The man then fell to the pavement with a resounding thud.

Quickly recovering from the blow, I ran over and inspected the man’s now-prostrate form.

“It is all right,” I said. “He is now quite unconscious. ‘Dave Eddings’, hmmm? Kit-10, do you have any information on this man?”

“Accessing database of known criminals, s--,” replied the computerised feline. “Located. David Eddings, former social worker. Forced to leave his employment with the state due to allegations of the sexual abuse of his own minor children. Narrowly escaped arrest due to assistance from former co-workers. Has survived on unemployment benefits since.”

“Daniel,” said Millie Drake, “do you think his guilt is what led him to join Spectral Paranormal?”

“More than likely,” I opined. “Such feelings are indeed known to lead humans into becoming operatives of evil. Nevertheless, we have no time for philosophising, hmmm?”

We then continued down the steps to the church basement. The door was unlocked, and we entered the partially-ruined cellar. It was quite dark, but we soon descried some black candles glowing at the far end of the subterranean chamber.

“Greetings, Rumanos and friends,” said the mocking voice of Don Wingus. "I have been expecting you. I do hope you have not hurt Dave Eddings too much. He has such a fun fat fundament.”

The villain was standing before an ebon-draped altar on which was the silver form of The Al-Hazred Amulet itself, its Arabic letters glowing with a blood-red effulgence.

“Don Wingus, you unholy fiend!” I charged. “Stop this madness immediately. You cannot control the powers of the Shaitans at the level this will evoke them. They are pure chaos, true evil in its most unforgiving form, they are…”

“Just stop it, Rumanos, you old hypocrite,” returned Wingus, evilly resplendent in his black vestment robe. “I already have total control of the Shaitans of Eblis through the influence of the amulet. It is by them that I shall establish Spectral Paranormal as the dominant religion on planet Earth, with myself as its supreme high priest! Through this, it is actually you who shall be remembered as the ultimate force of evil; the creepy alien exile who opposed me. The power is now mine, and you shall now die for your ‘wicked wicked ways’!”

With this, there suddenly burst forth from the altar area a seething force of darksome demonic energies, blacker than black can be; an unholy maelstrom of deviltry that then surged forth directly to-wards Millie Drake, Kit-10, and me!

Is it really at all possible, my dear friends and most appreciated readers, that you can even begin to fathom the extreme satanic horror, forsooth the complete unhallowed terror and total demoniacal fear of the situation in which my companions and I then found ourselves? There we were, the lovely Miss Millie Drake, the robotic Kit-10, and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were, facing the evil intergalactic villain known to eternal damnation as Magister Don Wingus. There we were -- with the very powers he had now summoned, the swirling cacophony of red and black supernatural terror, the dread horror of the horridly ancient Shaitans of Eblis -- bursting forth from the very void of darkness directly to-wards us!!

“You will now die, Rumanos and friends,” reiterated Wingus. “You will now die, and I -- Don Wingus -- shall use the powers of the Shaitans to take my rightful place as supreme ruler of worlds!”

Then, before the Shaitan energies would have reached us, a most unusual incident occurred. For it is now that Dave Eddings, having recovered from Kit-10’s stun-ray, blundered into the room.

“Master Wingus!” he bellowed. “Master Wingus! I failed! I failed to keep your enemies away! Oh please forgive me, master!”

Dave Eddings kneeled and grasped the legs of Don Wingus as a form of grotesque supplication.

“Eddings, you pathetic fool!” shouted Wingus. “Unhand me! Your interference is causing a reversal of… !”

Indeed, at that very time, the energies of the demonic Shaitans of Eblis had reversed away from their course to-wards my friends and me, and had instead charged directly at the black-clad form of Magister Don Wingus!

“No! No!” he screamed as the demonic powers surrounded him. “You cannot do this to me! I am Don Wingus! I am the one who summoned you! I am the rightful master of all! I am… I am… !”

It was then that the voice of Don Wingus was suddenly cut off. It was then that he suddenly ceased to be seen within that underground chamber. For it was then that the very forces of the Shaitans suddenly blinked out of existence -- taking with them both Dave Eddings and his villainous master!

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

“Yes, I’m OK,” she replied, taking my hand.

“And you, Kit-10?”

“Systems undamaged, s--,” replied the little robot, as always.

“So what happened?” queried Millie Drake. “I know that Don Wingus lost control of the Shaitans, but where did they go?”

“The Shaitans have been banished to another dimension -- a sort of ‘hell’, hmmm? -- and have taken Wingus with them.”

“So what about The Al-Hazred Amulet?”

“We can return it to the mosque,” said I, taking the now seemingly harmless object from the altar. “I am certain the imam can look up some suitable prayers against evil from the works of their Prophet. An interesting man, old Mohammed. Did you know he originally had wanted to convert to Judaism?”

“What happened to change his mind?” asked Millie as we exited the old church basement.

“Not being familiar with rabbinical tradition, he found some of the arguments of the Torah scholars a bit insulting. A shame, really. If the ‘Sons of Abraham’ had stayed united, the history and modern state of the Middle East would be quite different.”

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

THE PASSION OF THE CAVIEZEL

“Remember, Caviezel,” said Don Wingus, “you must think of Choronzon!”

“Yes, Master Wingus,” replied Jim Caviezel. “I will remember.”

It was in a secret chamber somewhere underneath the city that this odd exchange took place. Magister Don Wingus, the infamous Algolite renegade and intergalactic criminal, was wearing a vestment robe of ebon black. His hair was long and dark, and his face, decorated as it was with a thin moustache and goatee, still showed signs of handsome distinction despite the obvious marks of lifetimes of extreme wickedness. Most of all, his pale eyes shone with an absolute hypnotic glare.

The other was a decent-looking man in his fifties, tall and rather thin, with greying brown hair and a trim full beard. His blue eyes stared strangely as if haunted by thoughts of a life ruined. He was wearing blue jeans and a white polo shirt.

“So this will help with my acting career, Master?” he continued. “You promised you would do something to help me with that. It used to be so good before the woke elites took over Hollywood.”

“Yes, I know,” replied Wingus, barely hiding a note of annoyance. “The great demon Choronzon will empower you to conquer the entertainment industry, that I may utilise it to take my own rightful place as ruler of this world. Now, turn around, drop your trousers, and bend over.”

Caviezel did as ordered, and the evil Don Wingus took his place behind him, lifting up his vestment robe.

“By the powers of the psyche-sexual transfer,” intoned the villain, “I declare that the powers of the demon of chaos shall be invoked, that it may aid us in our endeavours.”

“Oh yes, Master!” moaned Jim Caviezel as Wingus began to abuse him. “Oh, that is so good!”

“Think of Choronzon!” shouted Don Wingus as he continued violently. “Think of Choronzon! Think of Choronzon!” …

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.

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!!! …

“Jim Caviezel?” wondered Millie Drake. “I’ve never heard of him.”

“He was a bit before your time, hmmm?” I replied. “Originally from Mount Vernon, Washington, he appeared in several films and was building a good career in the business before he was blacklisted for playing the lead role in an hideously anti-Semitic film entitled ‘The Passion of the Christ’.”

“Anti-Semitic?” shuddered Millie. “He must be a horrible person then. So now he is making some sort of comeback?”

“So it appears,” I confirmed. “He is being advertised as a sort of motivational speaker doing a lecture tour -- a tour in which he is informing the public concerning the virtues of Choronzon!”

We were in our secret headquarters, located as it is in the golden trapezoidal roof of the Gateway Hotel in Atlantic City, and which contains numerous alien artefacts from our career as protectors of planet Earth.

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, Miss Millie Drake, is an exceptionally 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 the shape of her wonderful adolescent figure.

Also with us, there in that chamber filled with electronic equipment and strange mementos of our past adventures, was Kit-10 -- our mobile personal computer that resembles nothing more or less than a small mechanical cat.

“Choronzon?” repeated Millie Drake. “Isn’t that a demon?”

“Indeed it is,” I affirmed whilst twiddling my frills, “and a particularly noxious one at that. Choronzon is the demon of chaos called forth by the sixteenth century English occultist John Dee as part of his Enochian system of 'magic'. Choronzon is a creature of dispersion, its only purpose being the cause disorder and discord. Dee was only able to control it due to having the full information on the working of the magical system -- information, I must say, that has since been lost.”

“So if this Jim Caviezel is calling forth the demon now… Oh my gosh!”

“Quite so, my dear Mills. Caviezel must be stopped. If Choronzon is set forth upon Earth, the results could be the utter annihilation of all life on the planet.”

“Then we must stop him!” bravely announced Millie Drake.

“Indeed we must,” I agreed, fetching my hat and cloak. “Caviezel is appearing tonight at the Atlantic City Convention Center, and we shall go confront him as agents of the Kosmikos.” …

The sun was just setting over Atlantic City as Millie Drake and I rode down Indiana Avenue to-wards the convention centre. I was at the wheel of our specially-modified canary-yellow Edwardian roadster (affectionately know as “Lizzie”).

“It’s too bad Kit-10 couldn’t come with us,” complained Millie.

“Quite so,” I agreed, also missing the help that the computerised kitten could have given us in our strange assignment, “but we cannot be certain what detrimental effect the powers of Choronzon could have on her operational systems. It is better for her to stay at headquarters monitoring the computers, hmmm?”

“So Daniel,” continued my companion, “do you really think this Jim Caviezel could succeed in calling forth that demon? Is he perhaps a Spectral Paranormal agent and… Oh my goodness! Look!”

I looked upwards to see what had so startled Millie and beheld an horror indeed. It was an huge black shape with two glowing crimson eyes, and it was descending directly upon us!! …

Meanwhile at the Atlantic City Convention Center, Jim Caviezel was beginning his “motivational seminar”. Standing onstage in a black business suit with a blood-red necktie, he addressed the assembled audience with an air of supercilious contempt. Some noticed the flashes of ebony black light that seemed to play around his person.

“I am, of course, Jim Caviezel,” he stated, “the greatest living Hollywood actor. The only reason everyone doesn’t know this is because of all the woke garbage in movies today. But don’t worry, because right here tonight we are going to break through all of that. Yes, tonight I am going to prove my power by manifesting the force that will destroy the liberal media. Tonight I am going to bring forth -- Choronzon!!”

With this, and huge darksome mass of demoniacal powder appeared all around Caviezel, accompanied as it was by a sound as of desolate lamentation.

“This is the power of Choronzon!” exulted Jim Caviezel as the audience gasped in shock. “This is the power I wield over this world and shall use to make myself known as the chosen one to bring All-American Conservatism back to Hollywood!” …

I activated Lizzie’s modified engines in an attempt to escape the demonic form that had appeared descending upon us. We shot out from in front of it just before it would have reached the car.

“Daniel,” said Millie Drake, glancing behind us. “It just disappeared!”

“Yes,” I replied. “That was only a small side-effect of the Choronzon powers. The full force of it shall not be that easy to escape. We must hurry and face Caviezel before he manifests it further!”

We arrived at the convention centre and parked Lizzie in the underground lot, taking the elevator lift to the level on which the “seminar” was taking place.

As we entered the area, Jim Caviezel, surrounded as he was by the swirling dark forces of Choronzon, recognised and addressed us thus:

“Oh hello, Doctor Rumanos and Miss Drake. I was told to expect you. You see, there is something you don’t know. I am not some mere magic user. I am Jim Caviezel, and I have been blessed with power from one most skilled in the supernatural forces. The power is mine!”

“Daniel,” whispered Millie to me, “could he mean… ?”

“Let us not speculate now, love,” I admonished. “We have no interest in Caviezel’s boasting. We are only here to defeat the demon.”

“You cannot defeat me, you big-nosed Algolite meddler,” sneered Jim Caviezel, “and you cannot defeat -- the power of Choronzon!!”

With this pronouncement, the darkling demonic power suddenly shot out from the stage area to-wards us!

“You will now die, Doctor Daniel Rumanos and Miss Millie Drake!” continued Caviezel. “By the power of Choronzon, you will now die!!!”

Do you see the ungodly horror in this situation, my dear friends and readers? There we were, the wonderful Miss Millie Drake and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were -- facing the obscene Hollywood actor known as Jim Caviezel (his audience having long since fled in terror). There we were -- as Caviezel sent the dark force of the demon of chaos and dispersion directly to-wards us! It was a power he was using in a desperate attempt to save his failing acting career -- a power he had gained (unknown to us at the time) by an horrid act of ungodly sexuality with my oldest and most bitter enemy; the master criminal and intergalactic villain known to eternal damnation as Don Wingus!

“You will die, Doctor Rumanos!” repeated Caviezel. “You will die, along with all of that woke Hollywood elite filth! Then I shall be recognised as the world’s greatest actor, and Spectral Paranormal shall reign supreme!”

The audience had by now indeed fled in terror, and we stood there alone as the darksome power of the chaos demon shot directly to-wards us!

“Millie, hold my hand,” I said.

Then, as soon as I felt my beautiful companion’s touch, I intoned:

“Ol sonuf vaoresaji gohu Iad Belata! Elanosaha caelazod! Sobrazod o noziredo noco mada! Hoathe Iaida Saitan!”

Then, a most remarkable thing occurred. The dark force of Choronzon suddenly reversed and -- in stead of touching Millie and me -- shot directly back upon Jim Caviezel!

“What!” he cried in horror as the demonic power began to touch him. “Rumanos, what have you done? What have you done?!!”

“By the supreme power of the forty-eight Keys of Enoch,” I said, “I do take command over the powers of Choronzon -- and by it I do bring your end!”

The dark force had by now completely surrounded Jim Caviezel, and he was screaming in total abject terror.

“No!” he cried. "No! No! Noooooooo!!”

With this, the power suddenly dispersed, and all was quiet there in the Atlantic City Convention Center. I beheld the stage area carefully, and assured that there was no further sign of either the demon or the execrable actor Jim Caviezel.

“Daniel,” said Millie Drake, “what happened? That was Enochian you spoke, but what did it do to Choronzon and Jim Caviezel?”

“Mills, my dear,” I replied, “that was not only Enochian, but it was -- when empowered by the supreme force of Love -- the proper conjuration to banish Choronzon and to suitably punish his adherents. It was, as I told you before, ‘lost’ upon this planet. Nevertheless, it was secretly retained by the Kosmikos of Algol and communicated to all senior agents. Its result is to condemn those who would call forth the demon of dispersion to the only penalty proper to such an offence -- total scattering of their very life-force to the furthest reaches of Time and Space. In short, the being once known as Jim Caviezel, failing actor and active anti-Semite, is no more!”

“So what next, Daniel?” enquired Millie Drake as we exited the convention centre into that Atlantic City evening. “We still need to find out who empowered Caviezel, don’t we?”

“Quite so, love,” I affirmed. “That is a dark mystery we shall definitely soon endeavour to unravel. But first, there is certainly time to stop by Tony’s Baltimore Grill for some pizza, hmmm?”

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