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!” …

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!!! …

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.” ...

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!!!

***** 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!” …

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 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!” …

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

URBAN PIRATES

“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