LUCIFUGE

“The talisman was stolen from a private collector by the name of Jason Cotherman,” said I. “He was found murdered in his home, stabbed to death by something with a small but very sharp blade.”

“So what was the talisman?” enquired Millie Drake.

“It was an authentic silver magical object of medieval make,” I explained, “manufactured to be utilised in a ritual to summon the demon Lucifuge.”

I was clad in usual finery that evening as we stood outside of the old abandoned building of Franklin Street Presbyterian Church; including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, jungle boots, panama hat, Star of David necklace, and one of my favourite opera capes.

My companion, known as Miss Millie Drake, is an exceedingly beautiful young lady; petite and perfect with luxurious chestnut hair, enchanting violet eyes, and a sun-kissed complexion. The powder blue minidress she wore only served to highlight her slender figure.

Kit-10, our robotic cat friend, had stayed behind at our downtown NYC headquarters to undergo a systems upgrade.

“And our instruments at HQ detected an energy reading coming from this old church?” queried Millie. “Something that may be connected to the talisman?”

“Quite so,” I affirmed. “It was an energy signature of the type associated with Lucifuge. You see, he was originally a colonel of the Cacodemons of Andromeda, that army known for their exploits in the Galactic Wars so many ages ago. After the extinguishing of his physical form, his psychic essence drifted to Earth, becoming the legendary demon of the medieval grimoires or books of magic, hmmm?”

“So someone could actually use the talisman to summon him?

“It is possible. It would require someone adept in occult knowledge and practice; someone who… Millie, look out!”

I had just noticed a small metallic object speeding through the air directly at my companion!

I sprang forward and helped to get Millie Drake out of the way of the strange projectile, only our superior Algolite reflexes making this possible. It clattered to the pavement a few yards distant.

“Daniel, what happened?” she cried.

I looked around. Whoever had thrown the object had fled the scene.

“Let us investigate, hmmm?” said I, taking Millie’s hand and going over to where the object had landed. “By the Triple Star! What is that thing?”

“Daniel, that’s just a cuticle pusher!” said Millie. “Oh my gosh! Somebody was trying to kill me with it!”

“And it seems,” I added. “that may be the same type of ‘weapon’ that was used to murder Mr. Cotherman.”

“Goodness, Daniel! Do you think it could be…?”

“Now now, Mills. Let us not speculate before we have all the facts. Whomever threw this weapon must have gone into the old church, so we must strive on and face them!”

“Yes, it is our mission from the Kosmikos of Algol,” spoke my companion bravely, “To protect the human race from those who would evoke satanic horror upon them. Let’s go!”

We entered the premises of the former Franklin Street Presbyterian Church. It had been closed for several years, and sadly left to gather dust and spiders. The only light was from street lamps shining through the remains of stained glass windows.

When we got to the sanctuary, a sight of satanic horror awaited us. The large cross had been turned upside-down, and before it was the old church altar that had been covered with a blasphemous cloth of ebony silk. On it were black candles surrounding a silver disk on which were carved the form of a writhing serpent along with distorted Latin lettering. Around it played sparks of darksome occult energy.

“The stolen talisman that summons Lucifuge!” I said.

Behind the altar were two figures. One of them appeared to be a man of middle years, clad in a black business suit with a long blood-red necktie. His face still showed signs of handsome distinction despite being marked with the results of lifetimes of extreme unhallowed evil; his hair was long and dark, and his visage decorated with a thin moustache and goatee. Most of all, his pale eyes shone with an absolute hypnotic glare.

Next to him was an insanely voluptuous young girl with raven hair and luminous blue-green eyes, her mouth painted like an inviting scarlet gash. She was wearing only a tiny purple bikini.

Of course, I recognised them both immediately. I recognised the man as my oldest and most deadly enemy -- the renegade member of my own Algolite race who has become the most wanted criminal in all of Time and Space -- and the girl as his whorish offspring.

“You!" I exclaimed. “Don Wingus. I should have known. So you did escape from the Sceptre of Zeus, and it was you that stole the talisman, after your daughter Anastasia here had murdered Mr. Jason Cotherman with a cuticle pusher -- before her more recent attempt to assassinate Millie!”

“Oh my,” mocked the villainous Wingus, his voice tinged with total madness, “Rumanos and little Miss Drake, come here to interfere with my plans. You will find your efforts to no avail. The power of Lucifuge is mine, and I shall use it -- enhanced with my own Algolite will -- to establish myself as supreme ruler of this world!”

“Wingus, you are utterly mad,” I charged. “You cannot control the forces of Lucifuge. He was known as a bringer of chaos even amongst the Andromedans. His essence is fitful and unpleasant, to put it kindly. Amplified to the level you intend would bring about complete eldritch pandemonium. You cannot expect to…”

“You will not stop me, Rumanos!” returned Don Wingus. “I have already called forth the power and brought it to my command -- as you shall now know!”

With this, the darkling energies playing around the talisman suddenly increased an hundredfold, swirling around in a diabolical maelstrom of complete demoniacal terror, an whirlwind of absolute horror in which were flashes of terrible things like unto alien serpents and twisted abominations beyond all sane imagining. This was accompanied by an odour like unto spoiled milk mixed with excrement and cheap perfume, and a sound as if a thousand air raid sirens were revolving about the chamber.

“Now, Rumanos,” continued Wingus. “You shall experience the powers of Lucifuge that are under my command, for I shall begin my domination of all by bringing about your death!”

Then, before we could even react, the blacker than black satanic energy shot directly to-wards Millie and me!

Is it at all even achievable, my friends and readers, that you can understand the sheer infernal horror, forsooth the extreme ungodly terror that we were then experiencing? There we were, the lovely Miss Millie Drake and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos, alien espionage agent and Knight of the Eternal Spires -- in that abandoned location of Franklin Street Presbyterian Church. There we were, facing the evil Magister Don Wingus and his dangerously-seductive daughter Anastasia. There we were, as the full force of the demon known as Lucifuge was released upon us; the very same power that Wingus intended to use in his insane bid to conquer the planet Earth!

“You shall die, Rumanos and Miss Drake!” repeated the wicked Wingus amidst peals of his utterly insane laughter. “You shall die -- by the powers of Lucifuge that I shall use to rule all!!”

The phantasmagorical energy surrounded my companion and me, encasing us inside a swirling cyclone of dark horrendous terror. Millie clung to me in fear as the images of unnameable supernatural evil whirled in a cacophony of absolute revulsion around us.

Then, from within that psychic hurricane of demonic horror, I heard the voice of Anastasia Wingus.

“Father,” she said, “please don’t do this! Please don’t kill Doctor Rumanos, okay? I want him! I want to have him to play with when you are ruler of the world! You can kill that stupid Miss Drake if you want, but not him! Please don’t do it, father! Please?!”

“Stacy, you cretinoid cam-girl!” bellowed Don Wingus whilst striking his daughter hard across the face. “I am so utterly sick of your obsessions with that accursed meddler Daniel Rumanos! Do you hear me?! I am sick of it!!”

It was then that I noticed something else.

“The power,” I whispered to Millie. “It has stopped attacking us.”

I then managed to step forward and deliver a quick Daemonian kung fu kick directly to Don Wingus’s midsection, sending him sprawling backwards to collide against the inverted cross.

“Look, Daniel!” said Millie Drake. “the Lucifuge powers are turning against him!”

Indeed, as we watched, the dark energy reversed and headed directly to-wards Don Wingus and his murderous daughter, soon surrounding them with its whirlwind of phantasmal terror.

“No!” I heard Wingus shout from within the maelstrom. “No! You cannot do this to me! I am Don Wingus and should command all! You cannot…! No! No! Noooooooo!!”

Then, after one final scream from Stacy Wingus and one last bellow of rage from her evil father, the black demonic power suddenly vanished -- taking the obscenely evil duo with it.

I carefully surveyed the old church sanctuary. All was now quiet, and the talisman now lay motionless on the altar. The horror was finished.

“So Don Wingus was distracted and lost control of the demon power,” said Millie, “and it turned against him?”

“Quite so,” I affirmed, “and now it has taken him and his wretched daughter out of this dimension -- to their own fitting hell!”

I walked over to the altar and extinguished the candles.

“As for the talisman,” said I whilst securing it in my jacket pocket. “The late Mr. Cotherman’s heirs will be paid for its monetary value via his insurance policy; I shall say the proper exorcisms over it and we shall then keep the old relic in our collection of occult artefacts at HQ -- that no one shall ever again attempt to use it in the satanic summoning of Lucifuge!”

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

GATES OF BABYLON

Millie Drake and I viewed the large ballroom around us, there in that mansion house in suburban New York. The guests that night were all strangely similar. The men were late middle aged, well-dressed types of the wealthy class. The other guests were made up entirely of young girls, ranging in age from about twelve to fifteen, all clad in scarlet-hued bikini tops and matching miniskirts.

“So what do you think is going on here, Daniel?” asked Millie. “You said we got an anonymous message to investigate Crowe Mansion, and the invitation to this party was easy to forge, but why are we really here?”

“That is what we must ascertain, my dear,” said I. “The owner of this house, Mr. Eliseus Crowe, is a rich shipping magnate about whom there are some strange rumours. I have it on good authority that the note we received was from one of his household servants, disgusted at Crowe’s lifestyle. Nevertheless, there is something quite strange at work here; something… otherworldly.”

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

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

Kit-10, our robotic cat friend, had stayed behind at our downtown headquarters to monitor the computer systems.

Millie and I had by now strolled over to the punch bowl. I took a glass of it and sipped it carefully.

“Hmmm,” I pondered. “Ordinary fruit punch, laced with a good imported wine. Chardonnay 1969 if my palate deceives me not.”

I noticed that one of the other guests, a grey haired man in a smart tuxedo, was eyeing my Magen David.

“I say,” he said, “I don’t think I’ve seen you at the meetings before. Are you a member of the Brotherhood?”

I looked at him sharply, silently encouraging for him to give up more information.

“I assume you must be,” he continued. “This meeting is closed to all except members of the Brotherhood of Marduk. Well, and our partners for the ceremony, of course.”

He then walked away to speak to some of the other guests.

“‘The Brotherhood of Marduk’?” wondered Millie Drake. “Oh my goodness, Daniel! Isn’t that…?”

“Quite so,” I replied, twiddling my frills. “Marduk is one of the mythological ‘gods’ of ancient Babylon, in fact the most honoured deity of that notoriously decadent culture. So this is a secret meeting of some modern devotees of that ancient obscenity, led by none other than…”

“Good evening, members of the Brotherhood of Marduk,” said a cultured man’s voice. “Welcome to our most important meeting ever, for this is the night in which we shall achieve immortality!”

I looked up and beheld the man who was speaking from a podium on which was a symbol quite like a black spade. He was wearing over his suit an ebony vestment robe covered with weirdly embroidered symbols of stars and planets and astrological signs. His strong features and complexion carried with them a look of mixed Mediterranean and Anglo descent.

“Eliseus Crowe himself,” I whispered. “He is the leader of this cult devoted to the ancient Babylonian debaucheries.”

“What does he mean by ‘immortality’?” queried Millie.

“By the Eternal Spires!” I swore. “It appears that the cult is intending to use these young girls in some sort of horrid sex magic ritual!”

“But where did they get them?”

“Countless children go missing each year in America. That many of them end up as high-end prostitutes is well-known -- and far too often ignored.”

“My Brothers,” continued Eliseus Crowe, a strange black and scarlet light beginning to play around him like a slithering snake, “nothing can hinder us, for -- as you can see -- the power of Marduk is mine. Tonight we, with the help of our young assistants, will experience renewed youth and vigour -- by the power of the most ancient Magic! Tonight -- The Gates of Babylon shall open!”

“But Daniel,” said Millie, “the Babylonian gods aren’t real, right?”

“Of course they are not gods and originally had no real existence,” I explained, “but through the generations of obscene sexual rites that were performed in their honour, a certain psyche-mentalist force was generated that exists in their form for those who would do the horrid perversions necessary to call it forth.”

Eliseus Crowe continued his unhallowed sermon from behind the podium: “Now, my Brothers, the time has come that we should take these young assistants and perform the ceremony of renewal! Take them, ravish them, enter them! By the covenant of our lord Marduk, take them and be invigorated!”

“No, Eliseus Crowe,” said I, stepping forwards to-wards the hideous cult leader. “You shall not debauch these youngsters. I am Doctor Daniel Rumanos of Algol, and I am putting a stop to your immoral cult right now!”

“What!” Crowe responded with a mixture of outrage and mirth. “You would stand against me? I am the modern high priest of Marduk, the greatest of the gods of Babylon! I have practiced his rites and have gained his powers -- powers that I can use to destroy you!”

With this, a thing of awesome eldritch evil occurred. The darksome energies that had been spinning around Eliseus Crowe suddenly intensified an hundredfold, and in doing so they took a definite shape; it was the form like unto an huge writhing serpent, black and red of hue, resplendent in its horrid slithering evil as it raised its horned serpentine head above Millie Drake and me!

“Oh my gosh!” cried my companion. “Daniel, what is that?!”

“That, my dear Millie,“ I opined, “is the great Dragon of Babylon, the very token of Marduk. Crowe, through his sick depravities and unholy magic, has managed to call this horror forth!”

As  I spoke, the horrendous Dragon -- with an horrifying sound as much an hiss as a roar -- continued to advance to-wards us!

And so, my friends and most patient readers, I wonder if you are capable of understanding the complete abject horror, forsooth the utter living nightmare of what we were then experiencing, there at that suburban New York mansion house. There we were, the lovely Millie Drake and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos, Knight of the Eternal Spires. There we were, facing the evil Eliseus Crowe and his horrid cult, the Brotherhood of Marduk, that intended to violate that group of young girls as part of an ancient sex magical ceremony in order to renew their own youth. There we were; as the eldritch darksome powers of the infamous city of Babylon -- now manifest as the very Dragon of unholy darkness -- prevented us from  doing anything to prevent this unholy outrage!

“Begin the ceremony, my friends!” repeated the wicked Eliseus Crowe. “Nothing can stop us now! Take our young assistants and renew your very lives! Take the powers of youth as your own!”

I looked and saw the men beginning to shed their clothes as they prepared to commence an orgy of rape against the young girls who stood hypnotised with fear.

“Daniel, we’ve got to stop them!” Millie cried. “What can we do?!”

“Millie, take my hand,” I said. “Take my hand and tell me -- do you love me?”

I felt Millie’s dear little hand in mine as she spoke.

“Yes, Daniel,” she said. “I do love you. You know I love you more than life itself.”

“I love you too, my dear little Mills,” I said. “I love you with a love of purity and truth -- and by that most supreme power I do declare the fall of Babylon!”

Then a wondrous thing happened. From the Star of David I wore suddenly showed forth a dazzling light of pure whiteness; a light that soon filled the room.

“Baruch atah Adonai,” I invoked, “Elohenu melech ha-olam ha-aretz! By the power of Hashem, the God of Israel, I do break the forces of the false gods of Babylon, as did the Nevi’im of old! Marduk bows and is vanquished along with his followers!”

With my prayer, the white light then focused itself directly at the great red Dragon, hitting the horrid monstrosity directly on its head. The thing began to shake and writhe in pain and, within a few seconds, accompanied by a sound like unto an enormous hissing screech, it seemed to explode into countless black and red particles before then totally vanishing into nothingness.

The light then again widened, filling the room with its purity. I heard Eliseus Crowe shout and scream in indignant annoyance turning into absolute terror before he then vanished -- along with the other members of that rotten cult which is remembered in eternal infamy as the Brotherhood of Marduk.

Then, with a brief sound like unto the singing of an heavenly choir, the holy light slowly faded away.

I looked around the ballroom. Eliseus Crowe and his cult members had indeed vanished, and the evil had been exorcised. The young girls were unharmed, and stood by looking mystified as to what had occurred.

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

“Yes, I’m okay,” she replied. “What happened?”

“The power of the old Hebrew invocation, along with the purity of our love, defeated the demoniacal Dragon; it defeated the filth of Babylon; forsooth, the very filth of this world! The repulsive Eliseus Crowe and the Brotherhood of Marduk are no more, destroyed forevermore by the divine power before they could commit the unspeakable outrage that they intended.”

“But what about the girls?” asked Millie, looking around at the now confused group of kidnapped youngsters.

“I shall call our old friend Commissioner Hurley of the NYPD,” I announced. “He has the proper authority and connections that can relocate these children into safe and proper homes, as we can hope could happen to all who face such ungodly exploitation!”

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

SWEET DELIGHTS

My name is Doctor Daniel Rumanos, and with the magical technology of the legendary Watchers of Algol, I protect Earth from all manner of menace. I am -- The Daemon-Star! …

“So this is where our instruments at downtown HQ detected the energy reading?” enquired Millie Drake.

“Quite so, love,” I affirmed. “The ‘Sweet Delights’ ice cream shop.”

I was clad in my usual finery as we stood on the city pavement that overcast day; including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, jungle boots, panama hat, and one of my favourite opera capes.

My companion, Miss Millie Drake, is an exceedingly beautiful young lady; petite and perfect with luxurious chestnut hair, enchanting violet eyes, and a sun-kissed complexion. The royal blue 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.

“And the energy is the type that would come from the old relic that was stolen?” Millie queried.

“Quite likely,” I confirmed, “for the energy is of the type associated with those ancient alien beings -- related to our own Algolite race -- known as Olympianoids; and the stolen relic is none other than the Sceptre of Zeus!”

“It's so horrible how it was taken from that old man who was murdered in his house.”

“Quite so. His name was Aaron Shapiro and he was a retired attorney, hmmm? The coroner’s report says he died of a broken neck, as if someone had just twisted his head so forcefully as to sever it clear through. The security system in his home had been mysteriously disabled, so the perpetrator remains unknown, but the only thing missing was the old Sceptre that the late Mr. Shapiro had once purchased whilst vacationing in Greece.”

“Gosh, do you think it really belonged to Zeus, the so-called ‘king of the gods’ in mythology?”

“In a sense, my dear. You see, the Sceptre of Zeus is a device carried by the supreme leader of the Olympianoids, who visited Earth during the Bronze Age and are remembered in myth as the Greco-Roman pantheon, in order to focus his mental powers into a stream of energy that could be utilised for purposes of defence and the punishment of any who disobeyed him. Kit-10, can you ascertain as to whether the Olympianoid type energies are indeed emanating from this ice cream establishment?”

“Scanning now, s--,” replied the robotic cat in her simulated yet pleasantly-feminine voice. “Results are affirmative. Energy waves are indeed the type associated with Olympianoid technology.”

(It must be noted here that Kit-10, in addition to her other feline characteristics, is completely unable to openly show respect to anyone. In point of 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”.)

We had by now reached the doorway of the brightly decorated “Sweet Delights” dessert shop, and were about to enter when something of extreme eldritch terror occurred.

I heard Millie Drake cry, “Look out, Daniel!”

“Danger, s--!” added Kit-10.

I looked upwards to see what had so startled my companions, and beheld a hovering mass of phantasmagorical energy headed directly to-wards us. It was olive of hue and flashing with streaks of gold, and accompanied with a din as of the noise of roaring thunder. Kit-10 fired off several shots of her nose-laser, but it was to no avail. The strange flashing power continued to descend, a course that -- if not somehow deflected -- would soon collide with my friends and me!

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

“What happened, Daniel?” asked Millie.

“That was indeed Olympianoid energy,” said I, “of the type associated with Zeus. Nevertheless, it was only a warning. When we face the criminal who purloined the Sceptre, and who has managed to activate and control its awesome abilities, its power will be far more devastating!”

“But we have to stop them!”

“Quite right, my dearest Mills. It is our mission. We must protect this planet and its people from the horrid fate that could await them at the hands of some occult terrorist controlling the Sceptre of Zeus! Come along, then.”

With this, my companions and I entered the ice cream shop and found our way through the patrons, including groups of children, enjoying their dessert treats amongst the loud pop music recordings being played over the establishment’s speakers. At first, all seemed normal, but we soon reach a doorway on which was written “Private Parties”. I opened the door and we entered to behold the very terror that we sought.

On one of the tables of the private room was a long petrified object with a golden top depicting a strange bird.

“The Sceptre of Zeus itself!” said I.

Standing behind the table was a man wearing a shiny black business suit with an long blood-red necktie. He appeared to be of middle years, his face showing handsome distinction despite being marred with the results of lifetimes of unspeakable evil. His hair was long and dark, and his visage decorated with a thin moustache and goatee beard. Most of all, his pale eyes shone with an absolute hypnotic glare.

“Well, Daniel Rumanos and Miss Drake,” he sneered, his very voice tinged with madness. “Once again you are attempting to interfere with my plans. I can assure you of failure in this.”

Of course, I recognised the man immediately. I recognised him as my most dangerous enemy; the renegade Algolite who has become the most wanted terrorist criminal in all of Time and Space.

“You!” I exclaimed. “Don Wingus. I should have known. So you did escape from Niorun, and it was you that stole the Sceptre of Zeus from the retired attorney and antiquities collector Aaron Shapiro -- brutally murdering him in the process!”

“Indeed,” boasted Wingus. “Elderly human necks snap so easily. Now, I shall use the powers of the very Sceptre of Zeus to augment my own Algolitish superiority -- that I may become ruler of this world!”

“Kit-10!” I called. “Blast him!”

The little robot shot off a ray of her laser, but a sudden rush of olive and gold coloured Olympianoid energy sprang up and deflected it away from Don Wingus, leaving him unharmed.

“You see, Rumanos?” said Wingus as the power increased around him. “The power of the Olympianoids is mine to command, and your interference will avail you nothing!”

“Wingus, you fiend!” I countered. “By the Daemonian Spires, I swear we shall not allow you to commit this outrage!”

I then attempted to step forwards in order to confront Don Wingus, but there was no hope in this. The awful thundering energies of the Sceptre of Zeus, now growing in power to truly epic proportions, were as unto an impassable barrier protecting him.

“I shall now take my rightful place amongst the gods!” exulted Don Wingus amongst peals of his own insane laughter. “I will rule this world from on high, and you shall not stop me!!”

Is it truly at all possible, my dear friends, that you can even commence to comprehend the sheer unhallowed horror, forsooth the total unnameable terror of what we were then experiencing? There we were; the lovely Millie Drake, the robotic Kit-10, and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were, facing the unspeakable intergalactic criminal known to eternal infamy as Magister Don Wingus. There we were, as he unleashed the awesome godlike power of the legendary Sceptre of Zeus -- in truth the same incredible power that he intended to use in his mad scheme to become absolute tyrant ruler of the entire planet Earth!

“Witness my ascendancy, Rumanos!” reiterated the evil Don Wingus, “For today I shall take truly my place amongst the gods! Today I shall gain supreme power over this world!”

Then an odd thing occurred. The door of the private room opened, just for a moment, and a young boy looked in.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said the lad, barely even noticing the oddities occurring. “I thought this was the bathroom.”

Then he closed the door. I looked and saw that Don Wingus had glanced over at the child with a look of annoyance on his face.

“Daniel,” said Millie to me, “the energies seem to have lessened some.”

“So I see, my dear,” said I. “So I see.”

I then stepped forwards, no longer completely hindered by the Olympianoid powers, and managed to land my fist on the face of Don Wingus. He staggered backwards from the blow. With this, Kit-10 then shot another blast of her nose-laser at Don Wingus, and this time it had its effect. Having lost control of the energies, he fell even further back, hitting the wall behind  him.

The thundering olive and gold Olympianoid powers had by now again grown in strength, but with a change of course. They were now heading directly to-wards the wicked Don Wingus!

“What!” he bellowed in outrage as the eldritch energy surrounded him. “No! You cannot do this to me! I command you! I am Don Wingus, the rightful ruler of all! I am… No! NO!!”

By now, the Olympianoid power had completely obliterated Wingus from view and its thundering cacophony then drowned out his cries of indignation and terror. Then, a few moments later, the energies suddenly vanished -- taking the villain with them.

I looked around. There was no sign of Don Wingus or of the Olympianoid powers. All was quiet except for the sounds of the ice cream shop coming from outside the private room.

“Daniel,” said Millie Drake, “what happened to him?”

“When that child opened the door seeking the restroom,” I explained, “it distracted Wingus enough that he weakened his concentration on controlling the energies from the Sceptre. This resulted in the powers turning upon him, and taking him out of this existence to a place of punishment for those who blaspheme the ‘gods of Olympus’, hmmm?”

“But what about the Sceptre of Zeus?”

I went over and touched the old relic as it lay motionless on the table.

“Kit-10?” I queried.

“Scanning now, s--,” said the computerised kitten. “Results show no evidence of residual energy present.”

“Quite right,” I said, putting the artefact safely in my jacket. “We can return the Sceptre to the late Mr. Shapiro’s heirs. This experience has drained the last of the Olympianoid powers from it, and the old relic can do no further harm.”

“Well that’s good!” cheered Millie as we left the private room into the main area of the Sweet Delights dessert shop.

“Before we go,” said I, “I shall purchase a round of ice cream for the entire house, hmmm? This includes that remarkable young chap who, although he shall never know it, aided in saving the world from unspeakable tyranny!”

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

NORDIC DREAMS

At a certain secret location near the New York Harbour a quite strange scene was being played out. It involved a man standing behind a table in a room that, though it gave some evidence of being a large one, appeared rather small due to most of it being lost in the shadows beyond the small candlelit area in which was the man.

On the table was an odd object, appearing to be made of metal unbelievably old, and shaped like the horn of that extinct species of animal known as the auroch. On it were a series of inscriptions in the runic alphabet once used by the people of the Nordic areas of Europe.

As for the man, dressed as he was in a black business suit with a long crimson necktie, he appeared to be of middle years with his countenance showing signs of handsome distinction despite being marred with the results of lifetimes of extreme unholy wickedness. His hair was long and dark, and his face decorated with a thin moustache and goatee. Most of all, his pale eyes shone with an absolute hypnotic glare.

“Now is the time,” he said to himself, his voice tinged with utter madness. “Now is the time that I shall come forth to take my rightful place as ruler of this world. The power of Niorun is mine, and I shall enter the very dreams of the people of Earth and bend them to my will!”

With this, an eldritch black energy began to issue forth from the old drinking horn, a power of ebon darkness that began to swirl around the area, accompanied with a sound like unto distant rumbles of approaching thunder.

“It is the power!” said the black-clad man. “It is the very power of the goddess Niorun, and it is mine to command. It is the force I shall wield to enslave every human being on this planet to my will!”

As he spoke, the phantasmal swirling power continued to grow in strength around him.

“Soon all will be mine,” he continued. “All will bow before me, and I -- Magister Don Wingus -- shall be lord of all!” …

My name is Doctor Daniel Rumanos, and with the magical technology of the legendary Watchers of Algol, I protect Earth from all manner of menace. I am -- The Daemon-Star! …

“So what was it that got stolen from the Nordic Heritage Museum?” enquired Millie Drake.

“It was a metallic drinking horn,” said I; “one from the age of the Vikings, hmmm? It has a series of runic inscription carved upon it that signify that it is sacred to Niorun, the Old Norse goddess of dreams.”

I was clad in my usual finery that night as we explored that area of docks along the harbour; including a  frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, jungle boots, Magen David necklace, and one of my favourite opera capes. I held the transonic mezuzah before me with its scanning mode activated.

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

Kit-10, our robotic cat friend, had stayed behind at our downtown headquarters to finish some electronic filing from our most recent cases.

“So Daniel,” said Millie, “was this Niorun one of the Wotanians, the aliens who became the gods of the Norse myths?”

“Quite likely,” I affirmed, returning the transonic to my jacket pocket. “The records of the era are fragmented, but it appears she was indeed a member of that powerful extraterrestrial race which is distantly related to our own Aeternusian ancestors. Niorun seems to have been a scientist involved in some kind of experiment involving the Earthlings. Apparently, she was attempting to find out if their psychic abilities could be amplified during sleep.”

As we talked, I was vaguely aware of a strange chattering sound coming from near by.

“But what does the drinking horn have to do with it?” asked Millie

“That was a later development,” I explained, “from after the Wotanians had left Earth. The cult of Niorun continued, and its devotees would become inebriated on mead as worship to the goddess. After a time, the horn itself built up a storage of residual mentalist energy due to the lingering results of Niorun’s experiments. Whomever purloined it from the museum is likely intending to make use of the Wotanian psychic force found therein. Now, according to my scan with the transonic, some power of the type is emanating from that abandoned warehouse, hmmm? We must see if…”

“Daniel, look out!” suddenly cried Millie.

I whirled around to see what had so alarmed my companion and beheld an horror indeed. It was a creature like unto a large muscular man, with most of his body covered with coarse orange hair. He was wearing an incongruous pair of colourful Bermuda shorts.

Before I could even react, the grotesque ape-man (for that is what he was) had his huge hairy hands around my throat!

The ape-man was incredibly strong, and I quickly found myself slipping into what would be unconsciousness if I could not soon break free of his grasp. Millie Drake attempted using her kung fu skills to kick the creature on the back of his head, but it was to no avail. He did not even seem to notice the blows, all the while continuing the strange chattering sound that was his only mode of speech.

I concentrated deeply and rallied my strength. Then, before the creature could succeed in strangling the life from me, I reached up and touched a certain pressure point on his shoulder, causing him to suddenly loosen his grip. I then managed to flip him down hard upon the concrete.

“Are you okay?” worried Millie.

“I am quite all right, my dear,” said I, examining the now-unconscious ape-man. “He will be out for a while, though."

“Daniel,” said Millie, “do you know what this thing is?”

“Let us just say that I recognise the type, hmmm?” I replied. “He is a native of a certain village in Borneo known for its orangutan prostitutes. As you know, we have seen similar hybrid creatures in the past being used as security guards by agents of Spectral Paranormal.”

“Oh my gosh!” Millie exclaimed. “So Spectral Paranormal stole the drinking horn? Daniel, do you think it could be…?”

“Now now, my dear Millie,” I admonished. “Let us not speculate; let us find out!”

We then entered the abandoned warehouse and, soon enough, found that which we were seeking. In the dimly lit interior we found an old table on which was the missing drinking horn, hoary with age but still resplendent with its metallic construction and runic carvings. Behind the table we beheld the figure of a dark-clad man.

“Greetings, Rumanos and Miss Drake,” he mocked, weird flashes of black energy around him. “I have been expecting you. You are just in time to witness my greatest triumph.”

Of course, I recognised him immediately. I recognised him as the most dangerous and wanted criminal in all of Time and Space, the renegade Algolite terrorist who has become my own greatest enemy.

“Don Wingus,” said I. “Of course. I should have known. The leader of Spectral Paranormal himself. So you did escape from the Club of Hercules, and it was you that so deftly robbed the Nordic Heritage Museum -- stealing this drinking horn of the cult of Niorun!”

“Indeed, you meddling spy for the Kosmikos,” replied Don Wingus. “The drinking horn is mine, and with it the powers of Niorun; powers that I shall use to enter the dreams of every human being on Earth and to bring them under my will -- that I may become supreme ruler of the world!”

“It was also you that sent that ape-man against us, hmmm?” I continued, ignoring his mad boasting. “Really, Wingus old chap. First a native of Borneo then a Nordic relic. It appears that you are getting rather multicultural these days.”

“I will have none of your flippancy, nor your interference!” announced Wingus. “I have gained the power of Niorun, and I shall use it to shred your very mind!”

“Wingus,” I countered, “you cannot control the Wotanian energies of Niorun. They are…”

“I can and will, Rumanos!” insisted Wingus. “I call them forth now to destroy you!!”

With this, the eldritch energies suddenly increased an hundred fold and, with a sound like unto an echoing clap of thunder, they headed directly to-wards Millie and me!

“Now, Rumanos and Miss Drake,” exulted the evil Don Wingus amidst peals of his utterly mad laughter. “You shall experience the Wotanian powers of Niorun; powers that I have augmented by my own Algolite superiority -- creating a force of energy fully capable of destroying you! You will die, Daniel Rumanos! Die! Die! Die!”

It occurs to me to wonder, my most appreciated readers, if you can even commence to comprehend the sheer ungodly terror, in sooth the extreme unmitigated horror of the situation in which we then found ourselves. There we were, the lovely Millie Drake and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos of Algol. There we were, facing the intergalactic felon known to eternal infamy as Don Wingus, who planned to utilise the psychic power of the stolen drinking horn of the cult of Niorun in his plan to rule the world. There we were -- as he unleashed the same darksome power directly at us!!

“Now you shall die, Rumanos!” repeated the villain. “You shall die by the power of Niorun, and I shall be free to establish myself as the supreme potentate of this world!”

The powers had hit us hard, their force more of the psychic than of the physical. In this, they caused a pain like unto the deepest depths of depression, a long-lingering trauma of utter horror that I knew would soon weaken us both beyond easy cure.

“Daniel,” Millie gasped, “I don’t think I can stand this.”

“Fight it, love,” I counselled, myself bristling from the mental pain. “Fight it. We must break free, and…”

Then an odd thing occurred. The ape-man, having recovered from his state of unconsciousness, suddenly bound into the area. He knelt down before Don Wingus and, with his subhuman chattering, began imploring the criminal for forgiveness for failing to keep us from entering the building.

“You brutish idiot!” bellowed Wingus in annoyance. “I have no time for your animalistic supplications! I must keep control of the power from the drinking horn, or…”

But it was already too late for Don Wingus. The darkling Wotanian powers had by now shifted -- no longer attacking Millie Drake and me but in stead heading directly to-wards the evil Wingus himself!

“No!” cried Wingus in sudden terror. “You cannot do this to me! I am Don Wingus, the rightful ruler of worlds! I am the one who should command this power! I am…! No! No!! Nooooooooo!!”

The powers grew ever stronger, with a din like unto a raging thunderstorm. They completely surrounded Don Wingus and the ape-man, soon hiding them from sight. Then, with one final roar of noise, the energy vanished -- taking with it the evil Don Wingus and his hairy henchman!

I glanced around the interior of the abandoned warehouse. All was quiet, and there was no sign of the horrors we had experienced. The drinking horn itself now lay upon the table like unto the harmless old artefact that it actually was.

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

“Yes, I’m okay now,” she affirmed “What happened?”

“When the ape-man distracted Wingus, the Niorun power turned upon him in its full force. The resulting clash took them out of this reality, to a place of darkness and non-existence. I did try to warn him, hmmm? The Niorun powers are far too chaotic, due to the nature of the Wotanians. Although part of the Aeternusian heritage, they chose not the ways of philosophy like did the Algolites and the later Olympianoids. They were always warlike and frenzied in their dealings amongst themselves and with others. Even in their scientific endeavours, they were aggressive and antagonistically violent.”

“But what about the drinking horn?”

I did a quick scan of the horn with my transonic. “This experience has drained the last of the residual power from it. The horror is finished, and it will now be safe to return the old relic to the Nordic Heritage Museum.”

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

AFTER HOURS

I took the transonic mezuzah from the pocket of my jacket and used it to scan the area.

“By the Triple Star!” I swore upon reading the results before returning the device to my pocket. “It does indeed appear that there is evidence of the presence of Liddelium, that rare element which is found only on certain asteroids and which is known to facilitate Time-travel!”

“But who could be using Lidellium here at an ‘after hours’ bar in New York City?” wondered Millie Drake.

“That is what we must find out, my dear,” I pondered. “That is what we must find out.”

I was clad in my usual finery; including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, jungle boots, panama hat, Star of David necklace, and one of my favourite opera capes as we walked the pavement of that city street to-wards the “LateNight NYC Club”.

My companion, known as Miss Millie Drake, is an exceedingly beautiful young lady; petite and perfect with luxurious chestnut hair, enchanting blue-violet eyes, and a sun-kissed complexion. The pink minidress she wore only served to highlight her slender figure.

Also with us was Kit-10, our mobile personal computer that resembles a mechanical housecat.

We entered the nightclub and approached the bar. I ordered a vanilla cola for myself and a lemonade for Millie.

“Welcome to LateNight,” lisped the obviously homosexual bartender as he eyed my outfit. “Are you a magician at one of the theatres or something?”

“Whilst I have been known to practice my share of prestidigitation and legerdemain” I replied, “that is not what brings me here this evening. My companions and I are investigating what may be evidence of extraterrestrial technology being utilised at this establishment.”

“Surely, you can’t be serious!” rejoined the bartender.

“I am indeed quite serious,” I told him, “and do kindly refrain from addressing me as “Shirley’!” …

My name is Doctor Daniel Rumanos, and with the magical technology of the legendary Watchers of Algol, I protect Earth from all manner of menace. I am -- The Daemon-Star! …

“These ‘after-hours’ places are becoming popular again,” said I whilst we sat at a table enjoying our drinks. “They are frequented by local entertainers and others in need of refreshment after the usual taverns close at two AM.”

“It’s not a bad place,“ replied Millie Drake. “Would you like a sip of my lemonade, Kit-10?’

“This unit does not consume beverages, m--,” replied the computerised kitty-cat in her simulated yet pleasantly-feminine voice.

(It should be noted here that Kit-10, in addition to her other seemingly catlike characteristics, is completely unable to openly show respect to anyone. In truth, 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 looked around the club. It had about a dozen or so patrons, drinking and socialising and listening to the 1970s disco music playing over the speakers. All appeared normal for this type of establishment.

“So Daniel,” said Millie, “Who do you think could be using the Liddelium here?”

“Perhaps no one currently,” I pondered, twiddling my frills. “It appears to be buried deep beneath the city. It could be the remains of a spaceship that crashed here centuries ago, hmmm?”

“But why haven’t our systems at headquarters detected it before?”

“Liddelium is a psyche-sensitive substance. It is probable that the founding of this after hours club here reactivated it, due to the effect of the emotions raised by human drunkenness and so forth. It would cause the…”

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

“Danger, s--,” added Kit-10. “Danger detected.”

I turned to see what had so alarmed my friends and beheld a terror indeed, for at the centre of the club I saw a shimmering light beginning to coalesce into a form that soon became fully visible. It was a form like unto a tall silver man.

“Daniel, isn’t that a… ?” Millie wondered.

“Indeed it is,” I confirmed. “A Leknii Replicant!”

As we stood up to face the thing, it spoke, its voice an emotionless electronic whirr.

“We are the Leknii. It is useless to resist us. All humans will be converted. You will be as we are.”

The club patrons had immediately fled the place in inebriated fear as soon as the cyborg horror had appeared. So had the bartender, who particularly ran screaming. Millie, Kit-10 and I were left alone with the cybernetic monstrosity. It was soon joined by five others of its kind, appearing as it had by matter transmission beams.

Kit-10 had attempted several shots of her nose-laser at the Replicants, but it had no effect on the cyborg monsters.

“We have waited long for reactivation,” said the first Replicant, whose bronze-hued head signified its rank as Controller. “We will immediately go forth to begin the conversion of all humans on this planet.”

“You shall do nothing of the sort!” I countered. “As protector of Earth, I cannot allow its people to be assimilated into your sickening cybernetic race.”

“You are familiar with our kind?” asked the Controller.

“All too familiar! You are Replicants originating on the planet Lekni. Long ago, when all life on your world was threatened with extinction due to industrial pollution, you began replacing your biological components with cybernetic ones, this soon causing your race to lose all emotion, including love and all that goes with it. You realised that the only way you could reproduce your kind is by going forth into Space and finding others that you could convert. This went on until a multitude of planets across the galaxies allied themselves against you; hence the Replicant Wars. You eventually found yourselves being defeated and, in order to circumvent this, attempted to harness the power of Time-travel by adding Liddelium to some of your spaceships. Your inability to properly control the element, largely due to your absence of emotion, caused your ships to malfunction. That is what happened here, hmmm? You crashed to Earth, getting buried miles below the ground centuries ago -- dead and forgotten until the establishment of this club accidentally revived you!”

“Your knowledge is beyond that of the native species of this world,” said the Replicant Controller, touching a few buttons of the control panel on its chest. “Scan shows that you are of Algolite origin. Your species is unsuitable for conversion and therefore must be eradicated.”

With this pronouncement, the Leknii Replicant suddenly raised its arm and shot a bolt of potentially deadly energy directly at Millie Drake and me!!

Is it possible for you to even commence to understand the sheer utter horror, forsooth the extreme ungodly terror of what my companions and I were experiencing? There we were, the lovely Millie Drake, the robotic Kit-10, and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos -- at the ‘after hours’ establishment known as LateNight NYC. There we were, facing the dreaded cyborg horror of the Replicants of Lekni, those terrifying cybernetic creatures that only exist to convert humanoids into their own emotionless and unfeeling kind.

It was only our superior Algolite reflexes that enabled Millie and me to avoid the Leknii energy bolt, that in stead blasted a large hole in the wall behind where we had been standing. We shielded ourselves behind the bar, Kit-10 quickly joining us.

“Daniel, what can we do?” said Millie. “We can’t go on avoiding their energy weapons forever!”

I glanced round at the six Replicants surrounding us and suddenly remembered something.

“Of course!” I said in sudden realisation. “Vlooj!”

I quickly took out the transonic and spun around in a circle, aiming my device at the Replicants after activating a certain setting. Within moments, the six Leknii began to shiver and shake, along with a sound like a sick coughing.

“Kit-10!” I called. “Now!”

The robot shot off another blast of her laser at the Leknii Controller. A few moments after it hit, the Controller shattered into countless microscopic shards, as did the other five Replicants.

There was then a sound like an huge cave-in, far underground. The building shook briefly before once again all was still.

“Well, that takes care of that, hmmm?” said I. “Are you all right, Mills? Kit-10?”

“Yes, I’m okay,” Millie replied.

“My systems are undamaged and functioning normally, s--,” added the robotic cat.

“So what happened, Daniel?” questioned Millie Drake. “How did you destroy the Replicants?”

“I realised that,” I explained, “being Leknii from the era of the Replicant Wars, these were still susceptible to an allergic reaction to the alien spice known as vlooj. I then activated the synthetic vlooj setting on my transonic, causing this reaction on their systems. This weakened them enough to allow Kit-10’s nose-laser to have an effect. The six Replicants then self-destructed, along with their ship, due to a safety protocol of theirs that is activated to prevent others from cannibalising their technology. The sound we heard was actually the ground far below settling in where the vessel had previously been. Good shooting, by the way, Kit-10!”

“Of course, s--,” replied the electronic feline.

“So was the Liddelium destroyed as well?’ asked Millie.

I scanned the area with the transonic before returning the device to my jacket pocket.

“So it appears,” I said. “A tricky element, Liddelium, but it must have dispersed with the destruction of the Leknii rocket-ship. There is no evidence of it remaining.”

Millie Drake, Kit-10, and I had by now exited the establishment known as the LateNight NYC Club and continued down the city sidewalk.

“I am certain the club’s patrons will attribute what they saw to intoxication and soon enough forget about it,” I said. “The sun is rising. Eli’s Bagel Shop will be open soon and we can stop by for breakfast. I could use a garlic bagel with cream cheese, hmmm?”

“That sounds delicious!” cheered Millie as the new day dawned. “Except make mine blueberry! What kind of bagel would you like, Kit-10?”

“This unit does not consume edibles, m--,” complained the catlike robot.

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

UNHOLY

It was a sunny afternoon in Atlantic City, where Millie and I had travelled in order to spend some time at Tanger Outlets, the large upscale shopping plaza at the centre of town. I was clad in my usual finery, including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, jungle boots, sunspecs, my Magen David necklace, and of course one of my favourite opera capes.

My companion, known as Miss Millie Drake, is an exceedingly beautiful young lady with luxurious chestnut-hued hair, enchanting violet eyes, and sun-kissed skin. The royal blue mini-dress she wore only served to highlight her slender figure.

“It’s such a nice day, Daniel,” she said. “I think we’re going to enjoy just spending a day shopping for a change!”

“Quite so, my dear Mills,” I agreed. “It will be good to get away from having to constantly save the planet from alien invasions and mad scientists, hmmm?”

Kit-10, our catlike portable personal computer, had stayed back at headquarters for a systems update.

“I want to look at these dresses,” said Millie as we entered one of the clothing establishments. “This pace is supposed to have all the latest retro fashions!”

“I say,” I said. “Hawaiian shirts! I have been pondering adding a few of these to my own wardrobe, hmmm?”

Millie had gone on to the ladies’ department whilst I looked at the colourful shirts in menswear, when I suddenly felt a strange tingling in my Algolitish senses. I glanced to-wards the large plate glass front of the shop and beheld what had triggered this.

At first it seemed like a quite normal scene; a girl with blonde hair and azure eyes, dressed in a pink crop-top and matching miniskirt, was passing by, accompanied by a dark-haired man clad in a grey sports jacket and slacks. However, as they passed I noticed something that precipitated what was going to be an horror indeed. For as the man briefly turned his face to-wards me -- a face with handsome Mediterranean type features -- I noticed his eyes flash with an horrid glow of utter hellish blackness.

“By the Triple Star!” I swore to myself. “He is possessed by a demon!” …

My name is Doctor Daniel Rumanos, and with the magical technology of the legendary Watchers of Algol, I protect Earth from all manner of menace. I am -- The Daemon-Star! …

I hurried out of the store without any delay and headed to-wards the demonically-possessed man and the girl who was with him. They had already passed around the corner to a sort of ramp passage to another section of the plaza.

When I arrived around the corner I saw the girl, but there was no sign of the man.

“Excuse me, young lady,” said I. “My name is Doctor Rumanos. Are you all right and unharmed?”

“Huh?” she said, turning around to face me. “What do you mean?”

The girl was quite pretty and could not have been older than sixteen.

“The man you were with,” I attempted to explain. “Did he touch you? Has he harmed you in any way?”

“No. Why would he do that? His name is Tony and I just met him. I’m Carrie. My mom brought me here today, but I went off to look at some stuff on my own. That guy just said hi and asked if he could walk with me. He seemed nice so I said okay. I don‘t know where he‘s gone now.”

“Did you notice anything strange about him?” I enquired.

“No, not at all,” Carrie replied. “Oh, wait a minute. He did smell kind of funny, but I thought it was some kind of aftershave or something.”

“Ah, brimstone,” I pondered, twiddling my frills. “Of course, the result of the demon‘s trans-dimensional crossing. Carrie, if you see that man again please stay away from him.”

“But why, Doctor? Is he sick or something?”

“Far worse than that, Carrie. He is possessed.”

“Possessed?” she repeated with a look of fear mixed with amusement. “You mean like in those horror movies?”

“Something like that, except that the demons are actually the psychic essences of certain alien beings that filtered down to Earth in ancient times. They now roam around looking for human beings they can possess -- and for others to victimise in other ways.”

By now I had taken the transonic mezuzah from my jacket and used it to scan the area.

“Spires of Daemonia!” I swore upon looking at the resultant readings before returning the instrument to my pocket. “According to the transonic, there is indeed demonic activity in the area, specifically of the type denoting the presence of an incubus!”

“What does that mean, Doctor?” queried the young girl.

“An incubus is a male demon, the female equivalent being a succubus, that victimises people sexually, using this to drain energy from the victim. If one of them has possessed this Tony fellow, it is obviously planning to…”

“Doctor, look out!”

I just barely managed to turn around and see what had so startled Carrie before the energy hit me. It came from the possessed Tony, who had circled around the plaza in order to secretly approach me from behind. He was running to-wards me when he suddenly raised his hands and unleashed an huge surge of black and blue demoniacal energy directly at me.

Whilst I began to sink to the pavement as a result of the unholy blast, I saw the demonically controlled man grab the girl and run away with her at an incredible speed. Soon, as I reeled from the pain I was experiencing, they were lost to my sight!

I fought hard against the agony I was feeling, and sought to banish it from my senses. I thought of that innocent girl in the clutches of that demonically-possessed man and rallied myself. I struggled to my feet and took off in a run to-wards the direction in which I had seen them going.

Around another corner of the shopping complex I beheld them again. Carrie was struggling against the possessed Tony but could not break free of him. I reached into my pocket for the transonic just as Tony noticed that I was following them. He dropped the girl and turned to face me, sending another black and blue bolt of the incubus energy to-wards me. I dodged aside and managed to avoid most of the force of the bolt, which harmlessly hit the pavement, but the shock was enough to send the transonic device flying from my hand. It clattered to the ground several metres distant.

Then I heard the demon speak through the man.

“You cannot exorcise me, Algolite,” it said, its voice a growling otherworldly mockery of human speech. “I am the incubus, and I shall pour my seed into this girl-child of Earth, taking from her the energy of sensual intercourse that I may multiply my powers tenfold, an hundredfold!”

“You shall not succeed, demon,” I countered. “I am Doctor Daniel Rumanos of the Kosmikos of the Watchers. I shall cast you out that you do no further harm to any on this planet.”

With this, the incubus-possessed Tony let out with a laugh -- forsooth a laugh of absolute satanic evil beyond any and all sane reckoning.

“No, Rumanos of Algol,” it said, “you shall do nothing but die!”

With this, the possessed man let forth with a surge of the demonic power beyond even what I had before experienced. It was an huge eldritch swirling mass of black and blue energy accompanied by the odor of brimstone and by a sound like unto the barking and howling of a thousand infernal hounds. It hit me directly and sent me sprawling across the plaza!

My dear friends and most appreciated readers, I am wondering if it is at all possible for you to even begin to comprehend the unhallowed horror, forsooth the extreme unnameable terror of what I was then experiencing, there at the seemingly ordinary location of Tanger Outlets in Atlantic City, New Jersey. There I was -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos -- the only one there to stand against the unhallowed horror of the incubus that planned to ravish innocent young Carrie, the helpless girl who even now swooned in fear at what was happening.

Fortunately, the part of Tanger Outlets in which this part of our narrative occurred was at the moment not too very crowded. I shudder to think what could happen if any hapless Earthling passers-by were to suddenly witness the phantasmal terror of the incubus energy, born as it was by the storage within the demon of countless counts of rape and debauchery.

The demoniacal energy continued to flow at me, as I strove against it with every fibre of my being.

“You cannot win, Algolite!” howled the demon. “I will end your life, and then I will take this child as my plaything!”

Then I noticed something. I had landed on the pavement quite near to the transonic mezuzah. Ignoring the taunts of the incubus, I stretched my hand out and picked it up, then quickly turning to face my opponent.

“Be gone, creature of darkness!” said I, whilst activating a certain function of the device. “I do cast you out in the name of Hashem the God of Israel!”

It was then that I heard the demon scream. It screamed with a long eldritch bay that suggested the calling of an air-raid siren. The black and blue energy swirled all back in Tony’s direction, and I beheld the man shudder and lurch as the demonic force started to leave his body. Then, with a sound like unto the snapping of an eternal cord, all evidence of the presence of the incubus vanished.

Now free of the evil, Tony, after a moment of confusion, ran off to-wards the Ducktown neighbourhood of the city. I let him go. After all, he himself was a victim of the evil and in no way guilty of what it had intended.

I went over and helped the girl to her feet. She was just recovering from her faint and I was glad to see she was unharmed.

“What…” she stammered. “What happened?”

“I pronounced the words of exorcism,” I explained. “This, aided with a certain cabalistic charm setting of my transonic, sent the incubus demon back into the outer darkness of Space, where it can do no further harm.”

The young girl looked rather confused but then smiled.

“I’m glad I met you, Doctor,” she said. “You remind me of the knights in shining armour in that old King Arthur book my dad used to read to me.”

“Well, Carrie,” I replied with a smile, “I actually am a type of…”

“There’s my mom!” she suddenly announced. “I’ve got to go!”

With only a slight wave goodbye, Carrie then ran across the plaza. I looked and saw her meeting up with a smartly-dressed woman who looked somewhat like an older version of herself. They strolled happily off into another section of the outlet mall.

Just then, Millie Drake came up to me with a large shopping bag full of purchases.

“I found some nice new dresses,” she said whilst hugging me. “I hope you’ll like the way I look in them!”

“I am certain I will, love,” I assured her.

“So what have you been up to, Daniel?” said Millie.

“Oh, nothing unusual, my dear,” I replied as we walked on to continue our shopping. “Nothing unusual.”

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

ROOM SERVICE

“Daniel, you mean Hercules was real?” wondered Millie Drake. “He really existed?”

“Quite so, my dear Mills,” I replied. “Hercules, or Heracles to give the proper Greek form of his name, was an hybrid -- half human and half Olympianoid, a scion of that immensely powerful alien race that came to Earth in the Bronze Age and became the ‘gods’ of the ancient Greeks and Romans, hmmm?”

“So the mythology about Hercules is actually true then?”

“In some respects, his amazing powers and heroic deeds and legendary journeys are based on reality, just filtered through the beliefs and understandings of the ancient world.”

We were at our headquarters, located as it is within the golden trapezoidal rooftop of a New York skyscraper, and containing our computer equipment as well as a collection of strange artefacts that we have acquired in our storied career as Agents of the Kosmikos, that secret espionage organisation of our people.

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

My companion, Miss Millie Drake, is an exceedingly beautiful young lady; petite and perfect with hair of a rich chestnut hue, enchanting violet eyes, and a sun-kissed complexion. The flowered 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 robotic cat. She was currently busy monitoring the systems.

“So the relic that was stolen from the Greek Heritage Museum was actually the Club of Hercules?” Millie enquired.

“It is possible,” I pondered, twiddling my frills. “Our systems are monitoring the entire city, and if any evidence of Olympianoid power shows up, we shall be alerted immediately.”

“So the Club would have gotten some power in it from being used by Hercules himself?”

“”Quite so. His long use of it in his epic exploits would have infused it with certain powers inherited from his Olympianoid ancestry.”

“S--,” suddenly said Kit-10 in her simulated yet pleasantly-feminine voice, “the requested information has been received.”

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

“Please put it on the main monitor,” I told the electronic feline.

The central computer screen then lit up showing a map of the city with a specific address highlighted.

“By the Triune Star!” I swore. “There is indeed evidence of Olympianoid energy, and it is emanating from the White Way Hotel!”

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

“Indeed so,” I agreed whilst taking my hat and cloak from the stand. “If someone was able to both rob the museum undetected, and to activate the alien energies of the Club of Hercules, then they must be more than human. Come along, my friends, but be vigilant and mindful. This could be an incredibly dangerous mission!” ..

My name is Doctor Daniel Rumanos, and with the magical technology of the legendary Watchers of Algol, I protect Earth from all manner of menace. I am -- The Daemon-Star! …

It was early evening when Millie, Kit-10, and I arrived at the White Way Hotel. After utilising my mentalist abilities to make us unnoticed by the desk clerk, I took the transonic mezuzah from my jacket pocket and activated its scanning abilities as we got on the elevator lift.

“There is indeed evidence of Olympianoid energy,” I said upon reading the resultant information. “It seems to be centred in Suite 718.”

We got off on the seventh floor and carefully made our way to the door of the suite. It was unlocked and opened easily for us.

At first, all looked normal in the luxury hotel suite, but then we noticed a wonder indeed; for resting upon the mantel of the ornate electric fireplace was a large cudgel-like object of petrified wood. Around it were flashes of energy, golden with bits of crimson.

“So is that… ?” stammered Millie Drake.

I pointed the transonic at the strange relic and then read the results.

“It is indeed,” I confirmed. “Readings show it to be many thousands of years old, and the energy is definitely of Olympianoid origin. My friends, -- that is the very Club of Hercules!”

I then changed the setting on the transonic device and briefly pointed it at the suite’s hotel telephone before returning my device to its pocket in my coat.

“Why did you do that, Daniel?” questioned Millie.

“Just a little extra insurance, my dear,” said I. “You see…”

“Danger, s--,” suddenly announced Kit-10. “Danger approaching.”

“Daniel, look!” exclaimed Millie.

I whirled around to see what had startled my companions and  beheld a man entering from the other room of the suite, clad as he was in a black business suit with a blood-red necktie. He appeared to be of middle years, his visage still showing signs of handsome distinction despite being marked with the results of lifetimes of extreme unmitigated evil. His hair was long and dark, and his face decorated with a thin moustache and goatee. Most of all his pale eyes shone with an absolute mesmerising glare.

“Greetings, Rumanos and company,” he said, his tone a mocking sneer. “I have been expecting you. As you see, the Club of Hercules is mine, and no one can stop me from using it to establish my domination over this world. No one, do you hear? Not even you!”

Of course, I knew him only too well. He was the renegade Algolite who has become the most dangerous terrorist in all of Time and Space -- as well as my own most bitter foe.

It was Don Wingus!

“You!” I exclaimed. “Of course. Don Wingus, hmmm? I should have known. So you did escape from Abraxas, and returned to steal the Club of Hercules from the Greek Heritage Museum!”

“Oh of course, you prissy poltroon,” replied the villain. “Unlike you, I have continued to use my Algolite abilities for the one and only purpose worth noting -- total world domination!”

“Wingus, you are utterly mad. You know that you cannot properly command the power of the Olympianoids. It has elements of chaos and can far too easily spiral out of control. Even the so-called ‘Greek gods’ themselves had problems with it. Despite being related to our own Algolitish race, their power was not as deeply dedicated to mindfulness and intellect. The Greek philosophers recognised this, and it was acknowledgement of the problem that eventually led to a cessation of the worship of the ancient deities, in stead leading to…”

“Oh do prattle on, Rumanos. You are a particularly grievous example of what exactly is wrong with the society of Algol. Our people have let their ambitions go to waste for far too long, in stead meddling with philosophy and constant study. But I have now tapped the very power of the Club of Hercules, and shall use its Olympianoid energy to make myself god of all!”

With this, the energies issuing from the relic suddenly increased, flowing out and about Don Wingus as he raised his hands in a gesture of control.

“Kit-10,” I said. “Blast him.”

The robotic cat then fired off several shots of her nose-laser, but it was to no avail. The swirling gold and crimson Olympianoid powers easily deflected the bolts away from Wingus.

“My goodness, Daniel,” Millie said, “he is using the power of the Club of Hercules for defence!”

“Indeed, my dear,” I pondered, “but it is his intended offensive use of it that much more concerns me.”

The Olympianoid powers continued to grow stronger around the criminal Don Wingus, swirling and spinning as a terrifying maelstrom of alien energy.

“I cannot be defeated, Rumanos,” he exulted. “The power is mine, and before I use its force to conquer this planet --  shall use it to destroy you! Rumanos, you and your companions shall now die!!”

Then the energies suddenly burst forwards -- directly to-wards Millie Drake, Kit-10, and me!

Do you even begin to recognise the horror, forsooth to understand the sheer terror of the situation in which my companions and I then found ourselves? Can you comprehend the unnameable dreadfulness of what we were then facing? There we were; the lovely Millie Drake, the robotic Kit-10, and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were, challenged by the unredeemable evil of the notorious Don Wingus. There we were, as he unleashed the full power of the legendary Club of Hercules against us -- the very power he then intended to use in order to establish himself as supreme ruler of the world!!

“You will now die along with your friends, Rumanos!” repeated the terrorist. “You will now die, as the first victims of the Olympianoid power that I have revived! Then nothing will stand in the way of my domination of the planet Earth!”

The energies hit us hard, causing Millie and me to gasp in pain, and the mechanical cat to spin around in circles as her systems overheated.

“Die, Rumanos!” Wingus shouted amidst peals of his utterly mad laughter. “Die! Die! Die!”

Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door. “Room Service!” came a voice from the corridor.

“What in the Six Stars is that?” raged Don Wingus, glaring to-wards the door. “Who dares to interrupt my triumph?!”

“Daniel,” whispered Millie, “the energies are lessening around us.”

“I know, love,” I replied. “Now, Kit-10!”

The robotic feline now shot off another blast of her nose laser directly at Don Wingus, and this one had a result. He stumbled back several paces in pain.

It was then that the swirling maelstrom of golden and crimson Olympianoid energy completely reversed its course, heading back to-wards the wicked Wingus!

“No!” he bellowed as the energies surrounded him. “You cannot do this to me! I am Magister Wingus, the rightful ruler of this world! I am… I am… No! No! NO!!”

Wingus struggled hard, but it was too late for him. The energy from the Club of Hercules soon had enveloped him entirely, and we heard one final roar of outrage from him before the powers suddenly blinked out of this existence -- taking the notorious Don Wingus with them!

I glanced around the room. All was quiet, and the ancient Club sat motionless on the fireplace mantel.

“Are you all right, Mills?” I asked concernedly.

“Yes, I’m okay now,” she assured me. “Are you okay, Daniel?”

“Absolutely, my dear. What about you, Kit-10?”

“My systems are undamaged and now again functioning normally, s--,” replied the mechanical cat.

“Good shooting, by the way.”

“Of course, s--.”

Millie came over and hugged me.

“So that was what you did when you pointed the transonic at the phone!” she said. “You ordered room service!”

“Quite right,” I affirmed, “and everyone knows that they always show up at a time that annoys the guest -- Don Wingus in this case! His distraction gave us a chance to reverse the course of the Olympianoid energy back to-wards him, and it has taken him away into the inter-dimensional ‘Tartarus’ that is the place of punishment for all who oppose the ancient ‘deities’.”

“But what about the Club?” queried Millie.

I used the transonic to scan the ancient relic before again returning my device to its pocket.

“It appears all of this has drained the last of the energies from the Club of Hercules,” I explained. “It will be safe to return it to the museum.”

There was then a repeat of the knock at the door.

“Well, now that everything is cleared up,” I mused whilst going to answer the door, “we might as well stay and enjoy the dinner I ordered, hmmm? Fortunately, this hotel has some excellent kosher choices.”

“For sure, Daniel!” cheered Millie as the hotel attendant brought in our meal. “That sounds delicious!”

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