Things are not always as they seem. Case in point, a certain building in the heart of the downtown area of that east coast city. From the outside, the one distinguishing mark of this skyscraper is its golden trapezoidal roof, but whatever slight level of strangeness this maintains is indeed nothing in comparison with what is found within this towering edifice.
Inside the aforementioned trapezoid is, sooth to say, my own headquarters from which my associates and I work in our ongoing crusade to protect the planet Earth from otherworldly threats. This HQ includes my own scientific laboratory, a plethora of electronic and computer equipment, as well as a sort of museum in which can be found numerous artefacts that I have collected during my travels and experiences over the many years of my long and storied career. These artefacts include various extraterrestrial items (including many examples of alien weaponry, the deactivated head of a cybernetic Replicant from the planet Leknii, and my own Space and Time travel vehicle, the DiTraS -- the exterior of which resembles an old Greco-Roman column), as well as some examples of things created by human geniuses gone mad.
On the particular day on which the tale I am about to relate to you begins, I was seated in a large lounge chair and regaling my friend and assistant Millie Drake with an account of some of the experiences I had had in the days before we had met.
“So there I was with the Fathers at the Council of Trent,” said I between sips of my highly-caffeinated beverage, “when this question concerning the number and the very nature of the holy sacraments suddenly comes up, hmmm? Well, let me tell you, the arguments then engendered were not exactly saintly!”
Millie giggled at the thought of this, seated as she was at her near by desk and idly doodling cartoon caricatures whilst listening to my account. The girl is exceedingly beautiful, petite and perfect with luxurious chestnut hair, luminous violet-blue eyes, sun-kissed skin, and luscious cherry-red lips. The tight, short, chartreuse dress she wore only served to highlight the soft curves of her slender adolescent figure.
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.
Also with us was Kit-10, our mobile personal computer that resembles nothing more or less than a small mechanical cat. She was, at this time, connected to one of the monitor systems and busy in scanning certain emanations around the North American continent.
“So anyway,” I went on, “it look liked a couple of the archbishops were about to bring about yet another schism, when I suddenly realised…”
“Danger, s--,” interrupted Kit-10 in her simulated yet pleasantly-feminine voice. “A signal indicating possible danger has been received.”
(It must be noted here that Kit-10, along with her other feline characteristics, is singularly possessed of a complete 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 Mille Drake by “m--” -- for “ma’am”.)
“I say, what could it be?” I said, rising from my chair and hurrying over to the scanning console.
“Daniel, it isn’t those Andromedans again, is it?” worried Millie, in reference to a particularly horrific experience we had recently endured.
“I think not, love,” I replied whilst looking at the textual readout of the system. “What we are detecting here is definitely not anything from that part of the Universe, hmmm?”
I manipulated a few controls of the console, attempting to better tune in what was being received.
“By the Eternal Spires!” I swore. “This is scarcely believable!”
“What is it, Daniel?” enquired the girl, hurrying over to my side.
“It appears to be a life-form unseen in the Cosmos since the times of the Fourth Galactic War,” I explained. “According to our systems, we are detecting the presence of the Crimson Essence!”
“Oh my gosh!” exclaimed Millie Drake. “I remember reading about them at the Academy. They were terrible!”
“Terrible indeed,” said I, retrieving my hat and cloak, “like unto an amalgamation of hate itself, but believed extinct long before life developed on this planet. We need to investigate this right away.”
“So where exactly are they?” questioned the girl.
“That is the strangest thing of all, Mills,” I replied. “They are right here in the city… at the Lord Biltmore Hotel!” …
My name is RUMANOS -- DOCTOR DANIEL RUMANOS, Extraterrestrial Espionage Agent and Intergalactic Man of Mystery. Even though I have the physical appearance of an human being, I am in fact several thousands of years old and do carry within my blood the vastly superior genes of the legendary Aeternusians or “Watchers” of the Daemon-Star ALGOL. Originating ninety-three light years from Earth, we are the most intellectually advanced race in all of the known galaxies, whose technology is so sophisticated it often appears to be “magic” and “miraculous” to lesser beings.
Whilst most Algolites tend to keep to themselves, preferring to live in elitist seclusion from the rest of the Universe and thus merely observing the goings-on of the myriad races of the vast reaches around them, I am an Operative for a secret organisation known as the KOSMIKOS or Cosmic Intervention Department, tasked with maintaining peace and order throughout the farthest reaches of Space and Time. You know, “plausible deniability”, and all of that sort of thing. It is our ongoing mission to defend the weak, the unfortunate, and the innocent from those who would harm or exploit them.
Currently assigned to Earth, I protect its people (both upon their own planet and across the eternal void) from the hideous manipulations of the arch-villain known as Magister Don Wingus and his occult terrorist organisation, Spectral Paranormal; as well as from alien invasions, mad scientists, and indeed all manner of menace. Assisted by my friends -- the beautiful young Hollywood starlet Miss Millie Drake, and our catlike robot known as Kit-10 -- I am the living icon of Algol on this world. I am a Knight of the Eternal Spires. I am the sword of justice from the planet Daemonia. I am the cosmic crusader. I am the stellar swashbuckler.
These are my memoirs. This is my story.
I am -- THE DAEMON-STAR!!! …
Millie Drake and I walked into the spacious, if somewhat sleepy and dilapidated lobby of the Lord Biltmore Hotel. Its 1920s era French Renaissance revival styling had indeed seen better days. The attendant at the front desk, a young African-American man whose nametag said he was known as “LaMar”, eyed the young girl as we passed by.
“It’s too bad Kit-10 couldn’t come with us,” stated Millie.
“Quite so,” I agreed, “but what we will likely be dealing with here could have some detrimental effects upon her systems.”
“Do you really think it could be the Crimson Essence?” asked the girl.
“That is how our scanners identified it,” I affirmed.
“But they haven’t been seen on Earth before, have they?”
“Indeed not. The Crimson Essence are a collective of semi-corporeal beings that came back in Time as a reverse echo during the Wars. They are said to be from the extreme far future, in sooth from a time after Time itself has ceased to be. Their actual existence is not fully understood, even by the Absolute Convention of the Watchers.”
“Then how could they be here?”
“There is one way,” I pondered. “Someone with a strong reserve of psyche-sensitive power could have summoned them. Nevertheless, there are very few individuals in existence who could have such ability. In fact, I am tempted to surmise that it could be…”
“Daniel, look!” suddenly interrupted Millie Drake.
We had by now walked across the entrance area of the hotel and stood just outside the façade of the LBH Tavern. At its doorway was a sign on which was written in chalk the following chilling words:
“The Paranormalist: Tarot and Palmistry”
“By the Triune Star!” I swore. “This cannot be. ‘The Paranormalist’ was a stage name used by the late cabaret magician and Spectral Paranormal operative known to eternal infamy as Vince Wilson.”
“But we know for certain he’s dead, don’t we?” queried Millie.
“Quite so, love,” I agreed. “This trend of immensely dangerous alien entities being summoned by what are apparently just cheap lounge acts is getting quite out of hand, hmmm? In fact, I think we need to talk to someone with some influence on the local City Council. Perhaps they then could enact some legislation to…”
I was at that moment interrupted by the sound of Miss Millie Drake screaming. The girl had seen what was approaching us before I did. It was something of incredible eldritch terror, in sooth of extreme unmitigated horror beyond all sane imaginings.
Hurtling to-wards us at that very moment was an huge conglomeration of blood-red swirling entities, like unto a tornado of psychological fear. With it was a rising sound like unto the lamentation of untold millions of souls in unbearable pain and anguish beyond any possible endurance.
Without wasting any time, I took the transonic turnscrew -- an highly advanced scientific instrument somewhat resembling a writing pen -- from the pocket of my jacket and aimed it at the approaching horror, having activated a certain setting on the device.
It had no effect. The entities continued to approach us.
“It is indeed the Crimson Essence,” said I. “The usual formulas of exorcism have no control over them. It appears the transonic will be of little use to us on this assignment.”
“But, Daniel, will they… ?” stammered Millie Drake.
Then suddenly all was quiet. The entities vanished just as they had almost reached us.
“Greetings, Rumanos and Miss Drake,” I then heard in the mocking tones of an all-to-familiar voice. “Did you enjoy my little show? It is just a preview of what is to come, I assure you. The power of the Crimson Essence is mine, and I shall use it to gain absolute power over this world and others.”
The speaker, then emerging from the hotel tavern, appeared to be a man of middle years clad in a black silk suit, and his face still showed signs of handsome distinction despite being marred with the signs of seeming lifetimes of extreme profligate wickedness. 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 a glow of absolutely mesmerising hypnotic mastery. Of course, I recognised him immediately. I recognised him as my oldest and most deadly foe, forsooth a renegade member of my own Algolitish race who had become the most notorious criminal in all of Time and Space.
It was Don Wingus!!
“You!” I exclaimed. “I should have known. So you did escape from the Middle River Volunteer Fire Department.”
“Oh, of course, Rumanos,” chuckled the villain, “Of course. I have now contacted the entities of the Crimson Essence, and shall utilise this most ancient and most futuristic power to take my rightful place as supreme ruler of all Space and Time!”
“So you have taken the persona of one of your late disciples upon yourself, hmmm?” I accused. “Appearing in the place of the execrable and morbidly-obese ‘Vince Wilson the Paranormalist’ and doing hackneyed stage magic shows? All of this to cover your activities with the Crimson Essence, I suppose.” …
Whilst I was thus conversing with the evil Magister Don Wingus, the hotel clerk known as LaMar had continued his lustful glances at young Miss Millie Drake. He had begun to inch to-wards her, closer and closer as he approached the girl across the lobby from behind. …
“These humans are clueless as always,” stated Wingus. “Show them an illusion, and they think it a divine miracle. Show them the real thing, like these mighty extraterrestrial entities, and they will dismiss it as a trick or an entertainment put on for the sake of their idle amusement.”
“It is typical of you,” I countered, “that you would utilise this failing for your own advantage, in stead of educating them and encouraging them to evolve.”
“Caring for this Earthling scum is your forte, Rumanos,” laughed the villain, “you old Interstellar Social Justice Warrior.”
“By the way, Wingus,” I changed the subject, “what has happened to your daughter, Anastasia? I do not notice her around here, supporting your evil schemes with her sexual wiles as of late, hmmm?”
“Oh, she is quite busy elsewhere, I assure you. My current designs go far beyond this wretched planet. I am only here to perfect my control over the Crimson Essence, which I have now done. Soon I shall go forth to subdue all the Galaxy to my will!”
“Such insanity. Such utter and complete insanity. You cannot control the forces of the Crimson Essence. The very nature of these entities is not even fully understood. They are a power beyond normal Space and Time, a type of being only vaguely even having anything that could be taken for an even semi-corporeal existence, at least as such things are usually comprehended.”
I do not know with any certainty what it could have been that alerted me, at that particularly crucial moment, that Millie Drake was in specific danger. In truth, I can only attribute it to the strong bond that exists between that wonderful young lady and me. The accursed hotel clerk known as LaMar had by now crept up behind the girl and, whilst putting one dark hand across her mouth to prevent her from crying out, had rudely flung his other arm around her waist and started to drag her across the hotel lobby.
“I wants you, lil’ girl,” muttered the ghetto-born miscreant into Millie’s ear. “There ain’t many peoples here right now. I is gonna take you up to one a the rooms and have you!”
I immediately turned and began to go to-wards LaMar, in order to save my beloved Millie Drake from the sickening fate that the subhuman thug was contemplating for her.
“Oh no,” said Don Wingus, a note of disgusting enjoyment in his voice, “not this time. No white knight saving the damsel in distress from the churlish knave. Not today, Rumanos!”
With this, Wingus stepped into my path and, when I was off-guard, delivered a slap to my head that sent me reeling.
“It is about time;” announced the wicked Wingus, “about time that poor little Millicent Roberta Dracos there received some real manhandling!” …
LaMar had by now dragged the helpless Millie Drake several metres distant and had almost reached the elevator lift.
“I is gonna have you, girlie,” breathed the lustful slum filth, his disgustingly darkling countenance distorted with unholy lusts. “You gonna be mine!” …
Whilst I struggled to recover from the unexpected blow whilst beholding this hideous scene from afar, I heard Don Wingus laugh a laugh of absolute maniacal glee.
There was by now absolutely no way that I could succeed in getting across the lobby before LaMar would manage to reach the lift. None the less, I knew with complete certainty that I had to do whatever was necessary in order to save Millie from the clutches of that vile varlet, the darksome filth named LaMar.
I took the transonic device from my pocket and pointed it at the mechanism controlling the elevator lift, activating a certain setting. The elevator door, which was at that time just beginning to open, reversed its course and shut, blocking LaMar from taking my dear Millie Drake into it.
By now, I had recovered enough from Don Wingus’s attack in order to dash across the hotel lobby and confront LaMar. I delivered a kick to his lower back that caused him to drop the girl.
“What the f… ?!” bellowed the ghetto scum, turning around to confront me. “I gonna bust up you whitey ass!”
LaMar then managed to dispense a punch to my face. He was incredibly strong; forsooth, it was the strength of savagery. I quickly responded with a Daemonian kung fu kick to his midsection, followed by an open-handed blow to the front of his face. Unfortunately, his already flat, broad nose and large, rather thickly padded lips prevented the latter from having much effect.
The darksome barbarian then let forth with a barrage of attempted blows. They were downwards punches, showing once again his complete and utter lack of culture and training. Of course, I managed to avoid the majority of them with the utilisation of my superior Algolitish speed. Finally, as he began to become winded from his own physical exertions, I managed to apply a certain jujitsu hold to the side of his thick subhuman neck. He shuddered and twitched, then falling into complete unconsciousness as the result of my alien technique.
Whilst the hideous miscreant known as LaMar slipped to the floor, I then hurried to see to the condition of my lovely Millie Drake, helping her to her feet from where she had been huddling in fear.
“Millie,” I said, “are you all right, my love?”
“I… I think so…,” she stammered. “Yes, I think I’m all right now, Daniel. I was just so scared! Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you’re here!”
“I will always be there for you,” I promised. “Always and forever.”
I then heard the mocking voice of Don Wingus from across the lobby.
“How touching,” he taunted. “Of course, ‘touching’ is an old habit of yours, eh, Rumanos? Congratulations on once again saving the delectable Miss Drake from being raped by anyone other than you. Now, if we can return from this ridiculous display and concentrate on why we are actually here… !”
“Wingus, no!” I called. “Let it all go before it is too late! You cannot control the power of the Crimson Essence! Just cease from this unholy madness whilst it is still possible to do so!”
“Your pathetic pleading is to no avail, Rumanos!” returned the villain. “The power of the Crimson Essence is mine to command, and I shall now use it to complete my conquest of worlds!!”
“Oh my goodness, Daniel,” shuddered Millie Drake in terror of the very contemplation of our foe‘s words, “he’s really going to do this!”
“Come forth, O Crimson Essence!” then commanded the evil Magister Don Wingus, right there in the lobby of the Lord Biltmore Hotel. “Come forth in your mighty and most mysterious power! Come forth and prepare to do my bidding! Come forth, Crimson Essence, and complete the triumph that you commenced in the Fourth Galactic War! Come forth, O you most mighty ones, and do now proceed to grant unto me your mighty power, power that I shall then use in order to achieve my most rightful and supremely glorious conquest of all Time and Space!!”
“Millie,” I said to the girl, “close your eyes and do not look. The full manifestation of the Crimson Essence is too horrible to perceive without causing extreme pain. Just keep your eyes closed and your head turned away from them.”
Miss Millie Drake then did as I had instructed, closing her beautiful eyes and staying close to me as the wicked Wingus continued his calling forth of the extraterrestrial horrors -- his summoning of the Crimson Essence!
“Come forth now!” he concluded, “Come forth, Crimson Essence! Come forth according to my will! Come forth now, and do now grant me all!!!”
And it is with this command that it happened. The full force of the alien powers known as the Crimson Essence manifested themselves there in the hotel lobby. They came forth as an ungodly melee of shrieking terror, in sooth as unto a blood red storm of swirling chaos and unhallowed horror beyond anything of sanity or reason.
“They are here, Rumanos!” then announced the satanic Don Wingus in grotesquely evil ecstasy. “Do you see? They are here! The power of the Crimson Essence is here and it is mine to commend! Now nothing shall be able to stand before me! I am the master of all! I am the one ruler of all existence and shall now take my rightful place as recognised dictator of the very Cosmos! I am he! I am Magister Don Wingus and I am now the ruler of the Universe!”
Is it at all possible, my dearest friends and most loyal readers, that you can even begin, in truth even commence to comprehend the absolute ungodly horror, forsooth the complete and utter unmitigated terror of the situation in which we then found ourselves, there in the lobby of the Lord Biltmore Hotel? That incredible and horrifying conglomeration of grotesque extraterrestrial entities, those semi-corporeal alien terrors known as the legendary and feared Crimson Essence, continued to surround and to engulf us, in fact covering us on all sides and filling our very senses with their increasingly chaotic melee of totally disharmonic spectacle and noise.
“They are here!” continued Don Wingus. “They are here and their power is even now mine to command!!”
The storm of the alien entities known as the Crimson Essence then continued to grow and rush around the Lord Baltimore Hotel lobby. They still increased in both sight and sound, completely filling the area with their glowing blood-red terror and erupting through the very air with their bellowing roars of utter unsanctified horror.
I considered the situation deeply and came to a conclusion.
“There is one way,” I realised. “There is only one way.”
I pulled Millie Drake closer to me as the horrid entities rushed around us.
“Millie, hold my hand!” I said. “Just hold my hand, concentrate on me, and keep your eyes closed!”
The girl again did as I had instructed, and this had an immediate and curious effect upon the obscene conglomeration of entities that had been approaching. In a mere moment, they halted and changed direction, moving away from us and in stead hurtling to-wards Magister Don Wingus!
“What!” cried my foe. “Rumanos, what have you done?! I have lost control over them and… and… no… no… NOOOOOOOOO!!”
The Crimson Essence surrounded Don Wingus, enclosing him on all sides. We heard him bellow in absolute uncontrolled terror as they engulfed him utterly, blotting him out from our sight and covering him entirely with their chaotic tempest.
It was then that they vanished, blinking out of sight as if they had never been there. The demoniacal force of the Crimson Essence had simply disappeared, taking Magister Don Wingus with them.
“All is now well, Millie,” I consoled the girl. “It is over. The Crimson Essence is gone, and Don Wingus is gone as well.”
“But, Daniel,” said Millie as she gazed around the now-quiet hotel lobby, “I still don’t really understand what was happening here today. How did we keep the Crimson Essence away from us, and how did we turn them against Don Wingus?”
“I remembered something, Mills,” I told her. “Something important. In fact, it is the most important thing in all of existence, hmmm?”
“I think I’m beginning to understand a little bit. We somehow generated the thing that could control them? The thing that could reverse them? Is that it?”
“Quite so,” I informed, “But there is more to it than that.”
“What was it then?” smiled the girl.
“For, as was found out in the later days of the Fourth Galactic War,” I continued “There was only one thing that could stand against the hateful forces of the Crimson Essence. It was a certain power. A power that the villain Wingus has never known and, sadly enough, likely never will. It is a power more potent than any weapon that could be devised or even imagined. In sooth it was a power stronger than good or evil and a power that shall most definitely endure even beyond the end of Space and Time.”
“Oh, I think I do understand now!” realised the beautiful lass.
“Really?” I smiled. “Do you know what that power is, my dearest Mills?”
“Yes,” she said sweetly. “It is the power of love!”
***** DANIEL RUMANOS AND MILLIE DRAKE SHALL RETURN
