DANIEL RUMANOS MYSTERIES 😈

THE EXCALIBUR INCIDENT

Anthony Senatora brought the girl into the backroom of his restaurant that he kept for such purposes. He often picked up the prostitutes who plied their trade in the neighbourhood. He could afford it and figured a little action on the side was fine as long as he continued to provide for his family at home. What his wife did not know would not hurt her.

“Oh, this is so hot!” cooed the girl. “I love Italians!”

“Well you’re gonna get one tonight, doll,” leered Senatora. “Take your clothes off.”

The girl was an insanely voluptuous brunette with luminous blue-green eyes. She quickly doffed the bikini top and miniskirt she wore. She had no underwear on, and all that remained were the spike heels that made her look much taller than she actually was.

“Now,” said Anthony Senatora as he removed his trousers. “Let’s do this!”

The deed was over quickly, and then Senatora and the girl remained for a few moments lying together on the small bed.

“That was pretty good,” he said. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Anastasia,” replied the girl, “but you can call me Stacy… Stacy Wingus!”

With this, the girl suddenly reached over to where she had dropped her skirt and, with one deft motion, retrieved a long stiletto knife and plunged it directly into the throat of Anthony Senatora. Blood spurting from the wound, the man gasped and gurgled a few moments before expiring.

“You’re right,” giggled the girl. “That was pretty good! Now I just have to get that thing that father wanted and go. He‘s going to be so pleased!” …

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. I protect Earth from all manner of menace. I am -- The Daemon-Star! …

“Daniel, do you really mean that?” wondered Millie Drake. “You’re saying the old sword that was stolen from the Italian restaurant the same night that the owner was murdered… was really Excalibur, the legendary magical sword of King Arthur?!”

“Quite so, my dear Mills,” I affirmed. “Quite so. The sword taken from Senatora’s Italian Bistro does indeed appear to be Excalibur itself!”

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

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

“But how did Excalibur ever wind up on display in an Italian restaurant in the Bronx?” enquired Millie.

“That is a rather interesting tale in itself, hmmm?“ I replied. “You see, in the year 1191, a sword believed to be Excalibur was unearthed at the traditional gravesite of King Arthur. Later that same year, King Richard the Lionheart presented it to King Tancred of Sicily as a sign of the alliance between them. It soon afterwards vanished from history.”

“So it could have stayed in Italy and was later brought to America by some immigrant?”

“Quite possibly, love. Quite possibly. Perhaps the late Mr. Senatora was himself a descendant of Tancred, hmmm?”

“So the restaurant’s owner, Anthony Senatora, was stabbed to death?”

“Indeed so. He was lying naked in a bed he kept in a backroom of the establishment. The police report says that it is obvious he had recently ejaculated, so it is believed that the murderer was a prostitute he had picked up earlier. He was stabbed directly through the throat, completely severing his carotid artery. Death would have come within seconds.”

“Then this prostitute stole the sword and left?” asked Millie.

“That seems to be the case,” I replied, “so obviously this was not simply some everyday streetwalker. She was there specifically to purloin Excalibur, and had to have used some sort of mentalist beckoning in order to assure that Anthony Senatora would choose her for his adulterous tryst.”

“Oh my gosh. Daniel, do you think it could be… ?”

“Now now, my dear. Let us not speculate before we have all the facts. Our instruments back at headquarters showed that some evidence that energies matching what would be stored in Excalibur have been coming from an old house on 34th Street. Hence our going there today.”

“I wish Kit-10 could have come along.”

“I too miss the presence of our robotic feline friend, but it is much too probable that the powers of the magic sword would have some detrimental effect on her systems, hmmm?”

Suddenly, I heard Millie Drake cry out in fright.

“Daniel!” she screamed “Look! Behind us!”

I quickly turned my gaze to what my friend had indicated and beheld an horror indeed; for rushing directly to-wards us from behind, there on that city street on that bright summer day -- was an huge mass of pulsating white and red energies.

“By the Stellar Triad!” I swore. “Excalibur energy -- and it is coming straight at us!”

Then, as soon as it appeared, the eldritch energy vanished.

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

“It dispersed quickly because it was only an echo,” I explained; “a small part of what we shall have to face. The actual Excalibur energy is of immense and awesome power. It will not be so easily exorcised.”

“Daniel,” said Millie. “doesn’t Excalibur also have something to do with the wizard Merlin?”

“Quite so,” I confirmed. “Merlin, of course, was himself an Algolite and a Kosmikos agent. The sword was endued with a sort of experimental power, an enhanced variation on Daemonian psychic energy that would aid Arthur in his fight against heathenry in the British Isles”

“But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Why is it attacking us now?”

“The power has become corrupted over time, and this corruption has allowed it to become misused by the person or persons currently in possession of it. Ah, here we are.”

Millie and I had by now indeed arrived at our destination, being a townhouse on the 800 block of 34th Street. We parked Lizzie on the corner and got out, cautiously approaching the house along the pavement.

“So this is were our instruments said the sword is being held?” whispered my companion.

“Indeed so,” I affirmed. “We must be careful, but none the less there is no time to lose in confronting the culprits of this horrid incident.”

We entered the house, the front door lock yielding easily to my skills as an escape artist, soon moving past the front hall and entering the dwelling’s main room. What greeted us there was a sight indeed. It was two individuals standing behind an antique table on which was the mighty sword Excalibur itself.

One of these individuals was an attractive young brunette clad only in a bikini top, miniskirt, and heels. The other was a man seemingly of middle years wearing a black business suit with a long blood-red necktie. His visage still showed signs of handsome distinction despite being marred with the results of lifetimes of obscene unmitigated 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.

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

“You!” I exclaimed. “Don Wingus. I should have known. So you did escape from the Amulet of Sybil Leek. It was your daughter Anastasia here who seduced and murdered Mr. Anthony Senatora -- hence clearing the way for the theft of the sword Excalibur!”

“Yes, and you will not stop me, Rumanos,” replied Don Wingus. “The days of you sticking your enormous nose into my plans are at an end. The power of Excalibur is mine, and I shall use it to establish myself as supreme ruler of this planet!”

“Wingus, you are utterly mad. You cannot properly utilise the power of Excalibur. Notwithstanding its immensity, all of these centuries of disuse have made it fitful and chaotic. Once fully activated, it will be uncontrollable.”

“Oh, but you are wrong, Rumanos. You are wrong. The power of the sword Excalibur is mine to command, and I shall demonstrate that now. I shall demonstrate it by using the power to rid myself of your pestering ways. I shall use the power of Excalibur to utterly destroy you and your companion!”

With this, an awesome burst of the Excalibur power suddenly came forth from the sword, pulsing white and red and accompanied with a sound like unto the clashing of armies -- and heading directly to-wards Millie Drake and me!!

Do you even begin to recognise the obscene horror, forsooth the unhallowed terror of this unprecedented situation, my dear friends and most loyal readers? There we were, the wonderful Millie Drake and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were, facing the evil Algolite criminal Don Wingus and his godlessly immoral daughter Anastasia. There we were, as the very power of the sword Excalibur began to pummel us with its incredible force -- a force quite capable of causing extreme injury or death; in truth, a force that the very villain intended to utilise in his mad scheme to rule the planet Earth!

“You will now die, Rumanos!” reiterated Don Wingus amidst peals of his insane laughter. “You will now die, destroyed by the very power of Excalibur; the very power which is now under my command -- the very power that I shall use to rule this world!”

The powers had by now reached Millie and me. They hit us hard, causing immense pain; pain that would, if not quickly abated, soon cause us to collapse into unconsciousness -- forsooth, pain indeed fully capable of bringing about death.

“Die, Rumanos!” bellowed the evil Wingus. “Die as the power of Excalibur rends your very soul!!”

“Father, please don’t do this,“ suddenly interrupted Anastasia Wingus. “Please don’t kill Doctor Rumanos! I like him! Please don’t hurt him, father! Even though he’s an Algolite and a Jew, there’s just something so Italian about him! Oh I want him so much, father! Please let me have him! Please?!”

“Stacy, you dim demirep!” shouted Wingus indignantly whilst slapping his daughter hard across the face. “I have told you countless times how sick and tired I am of your stupid romantic obsession with that ludicrous old Daniel Rumanos!”

Then a wondrous thing happened. The flashing white and red energy that had been attacking Millie Drake and me abruptly changed course -- heading back to-wards the evil Don Wingus!

“What!” suddenly shouted Wingus in fear and outrage. “What is happening?! Rumanos, you meddling bastard! What have you done?!”

Millie and I stood back and watched as the Excalibur energies completely surrounded Don Wingus and his daughter. We heard Stacy scream in terror whilst her father continued his tirade.

“You cannot do this to me!” he shouted. “I am Magister Don Wingus of Daemonia! I am the rightful ruler of worlds! I am… ! No! No! NOOOOOOOOO!!”

Within a split second of this all was quiet. The powers had vanished, taking the evil Don Wingus and his dangerously seductive daughter with them.

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

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

“When Wingus was distracted, he lost control of the Excalibur energy. This caused it to revert to its original function -- to destroy evil! It therefore immediately targeted Don Wingus and his wretched daughter, surrounding them and banishing them to a certain inter-dimensional ‘hell’ where they shall receive just punishment for their crimes.”

“So is the energy gone now?”

“Quite so,” I confirmed. “It had grown old and that was its final act of knightly virtue. The sword can now be safely returned to Mr. Senatora’s family. I am certain his wife and children will be pleased to have something from him other than infidelity, hmmm? I shall also make certain they get a generous insurance payment and the funds to continue the restaurant.”

I carefully took the old sword -- in sooth the very Excalibur of King Arthur and the Knights of the Table Round -- from the table and secreted it safely under my cloak.

“By the way, Daniel,” said Millie as we exited the old house. “That name, ‘Senatora’; I know it means ‘elder’ and is the origin of ‘senator’ and probably means his ancestors were some kind of community leaders, but it’s more than that. There’s something familiar about it.”

“My dear Millie,” I opined, “it is a variation on the Sicilian name ‘Sinatra’! Certainly a fittingly regal surname for a family descended from kings, hmmm?”

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

WITCH HUNT

“Sybil Leek,” said I. “The once well-known British ‘witch’ and 'psychic’ who appeared in numerous media interviews and published a couple of books during the mid to late twentieth century.”

“That’s who once owned the amulet that was stolen from Cotherman’s Antique Shop?” enquired Millie Drake.

“Quite so,” I affirmed, “although neither the shop’s owner nor the police seem to be aware of this. It was simply listed as stolen along with a description. It was only our rather specialised computer system that recognised it as having once belonged to the late Sybil Leek, hmmm?”

We were in our secret headquarters, located as it is within the golden trapezoidal roof of a certain downtown skyscraper, the inside of which contains our electronic equipment along with a plethora of strange artefacts that we have collected during our storied career as investigators of the occult and paranormal.

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

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

Also with us was Kit-10, our mobile personal computer that resembles nothing more or less than a small mechanical cat, who was busy at the moment with a systems upgrade.

“But if nobody knew what it was,” wondered Millie, “why would someone steal it? The police report says nothing else was taken from the shop.”

“That is quite a mystery, love,” I pondered. “The thief could only be someone with the ability and intent to detect the presence of occult powers.”

“So the amulet actually does have some supernatural power, Daniel?”

“Quite likely. You see, during her career as a practicing witch, Sybil Leek did manage to contact a certain residue of the extraterrestrial beings known as the Righ.”

“Oh my goodness! Weren’t they Celtic gods?”

“Quite so, my dear Mills. The Righ -- an immensely powerful alien race who came to Earth on a research mission -- were indeed the first rulers of the ancient British Isles, and played a large part in what became the mythology of its people.”

Just then, we were interrupted by a beeping sound coming from one of the computer banks.

“Spires of Daemonia!” I swore. “Our systems have managed to detect energy of the type once utilised by the Righ coming from within the City! It appears someone has indeed activated the Amulet of Sybil Leek. The power is emanating from… Riverside Park!”

“Gosh, Daniel!” exclaimed Millie Drake. “We need to get over there and stop them right away!”

“Come along then, Millie,” said I whilst fetching my hat and cloak. “We are going on a witch hunt!” …

That very night, in a secluded area amongst the trees of the aforesaid Riverside Park, an utterly grotesque ritual was underway. It was being conducted by a man clad in a black vestment robe. He appeared to be of middle years, his face still showing definite signs of handsome distinction despite being marred with the signs of lifetimes of extreme unhallowed 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 as he stood behind the black draped altar.

“I do summon you,” he intoned, his voice tinged with utter madness. “I do summon you forth, O spirits of the Righ to make yourselves manifest here tonight. In the name of the goddess and god I do summon you.”

With this, a strange glow began to emanate from the amulet upon the altar; an amulet of pewter on which was carven a pentagram and a series of Celtic knot designs. It was a glow of eldritch black and red that grew more and more in intensity with each passing moment.

"I do summon you,” continued the evil celebrant. “I -- Magister Don Wingus of Algol -- do summon you!” …

Millie Drake and I entered the precincts of Riverside Park, located as it is on the west side of Manhattan, lit only by a few distant street lamps and the leprous light of the full Moon.

“So Daniel,” Millie said softly, “can we find out exactly where the Amulet of Sybil Leek is?”

“Hmmm,” I pondered. “It should be possible to do so.”

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

“By the Stellar Trinity!” I swore upon looking at the resultant readings before returning the device to my pocket. “The Amulet is indeed present, and the powers of the Righ are already being powerfully evoked! Come along, my dear Mills, we need to hurry!”

We started out in the direction from which the transonic had ascertained the power to be coming forth, but soon encountered an horror indeed.

“Daniel!” cried Millie. “Look out!”

At that very moment, blasting directly to-wards us, was an huge mass of red and black occult energy!!

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the horrid accumulation of paranormal power vanished.

“By the Eternal Spires!” I swore. “That was Righ energy. Someone has called it forth indeed.”

“But it disappeared, Daniel,” replied my companion. “What happened to it?”

“My dear, that was just a small sample of the power that could be brought forth by someone knowledgeable in the ways of what is called ‘magic’ or ‘witchcraft’. If they succeed in bringing forth the full force of the Righ, then this entire planet is in peril.”

“My gosh. We have to stop them!”

We then continued onwards in our mission, trekking through the darkened city park to-wards the area that my transonic device had indicated from which the Righ energy was emanating. We soon arrived there and beheld a terror indeed. It was a certain person; a person I knew only too well, clad in ebon black and standing behind a satanic altar on which was the Amulet of Sybil Leek. It was him -- the renegade Algolite who has become not only the most dangerous and wanted criminal in all of Time and Space, but also my own most bitter foe.

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

“Oh of course, Rumanos,” sneered the evil Wingus, “and now the Amulet of Sybil Leek is mine, and I have used it to bring forth the powers of the Righ -- the very Celtic gods -- powers that I shall use to establish myself as ruler of this world!”

“Wingus, you are utterly mad,” I charged. “You cannot control the powers of the Righ. They are more chaotic than the other pagan deities. They are fitful and erratic.”

“I assure you I am in complete control of the powers,” Wingus rejoined, “as you shall now see!”

With this, an awesome burst of red and black energy came forth from the Amulet directly at Millie Drake and me, accompanied with an eldritch howling.

“Feel the power of the Righ, Doctor and Lady Rumanos!” exulted the villain amidst peals of insane laughter. “Feel the power that I command as it tears your very being to shreds!”

I am wondering, my dear friends and readers, if you can even begin to comprehend the horror, or to understand the utter terror, of what we were then experiencing. There we were, the beautiful Miss Millie Drake and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos. There we were, facing the evil occult outlaw known to eternal infamy as Magister Don Wingus. There we were -- as the red and black energies of the ancient Celtic horrors known as the Righ blasted directly at us -- energies now enhanced with the ability to cause pain and even death!

The energies had now reached us, and a feeling of extreme anguish began to envelop Millie Drake and me -- a feeling of suffering and degradation and of pain beyond all normal knowing.

“Feel the power, Rumanos!” repeated Don Wingus. “Feel the power of the Celtic gods that I command! Feel the power that will shred your existence and make me supreme ruler of all!”

Then, from within the pain, I just managed to reach into my pocket and retrieve the transonic mezuzah. I took it out and raised it up to-wards the Amulet from which the energy was radiating.

“An it harm none,” I intoned as a the transonic let forth a strange electronic whirr, “do what thou wilt.”

At this, a most strange and wondrous thing occurred. The swirling Righ energy that had been pummelling Millie and me suddenly changed course, turning about and heading directly to-wards the evil Don Wingus!

“What!” he cried in shock as the powers surrounded him. “Rumanos, what have you done?”

“I simply utilised the old white witchcraft invocation,” I replied, “along with a certain setting of my transonic instrument, to switch the polarisation of the Righ energy’s neutronic stream. You see, Wingus, the Kosmikos knew that it was possible that someone would activate the powers of the Righ some day, and so the time was prepared for.”

“No!” Wingus shouted in outrage as the energies continued to engulf him. “No! You cannot do this to me! I am Magister Don Wingus! I am the rightful ruler of all! I am… ! No ! no! NO!!!”

With this, the Righ energy -- forsooth, the very power of the ancient Celtic “gods” imploded upon the Algolite villain and, within a mere moment, vanished with him. The area of the park was then quiet.

“Daniel, is he gone for good now?” asked Millie Drake.

“So it appears, my dear,” I answered, scanning the area with the transonic before returning it to my jacket. “Both Wingus and the Righ energies have disappeared entirely.”

Dawn was just breaking there in New York City’s Riverside Park as I took the Amulet from the altar and put it safely in my pocket. The sound of birds singing began to fill the air.

“Come along, Millie,” I continued. “It will be safe to return the Amulet of Sybil Leek to the antique shop, but first let us stop by the NYC Hotel Royale, hmmm? They have an excellent breakfast buffet.”

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

THE SPEAR OF ACHILLES

A DANIEL RUMANOS MYSTERY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Olympianoid powers!” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Don Wingus!!

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

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

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

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

“Daniel!” cried Millie Drake. “Look!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then an odd thing happened.

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

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

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

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

“Kit-10,” I called. “Blast him!”

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

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

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

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

I looked around the room. All was quiet.

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

“I’m okay,” she assured me.

“What about you, Kit-10?”

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

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

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

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

“Kit-10?”

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

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

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

NEON KNIGHTS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HOLY WAR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what happened?”

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

“Where have they gone?”

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

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

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

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

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

CRAZY TRAIN

A DANIEL RUMANOS MYSTERY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SYMPTOM OF THE UNIVERSE

A DANIEL RUMANOS MYSTERY

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

It began with the headaches.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was only one way to cauterize it.

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

But it was not over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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