“The NY9 Club,” said I. “So called due to its address number. It used to just be what is known as a ‘dive bar’, but recently has taken to hosting these ‘Goth Night’ events, hmmm?”
“And this is where our equipment at headquarters detected the strange energy emissions?” enquired Millie Drake.
“Quite so,” I replied. “Energy that was elusive in its identity, hence us coming here tonight to investigate in person!”
I was clad in my usual finery as we approached the nightclub on that city street; including a frilled poet shirt, purple velvet suit, jungle boots, panama hat, and one of my favourite opera capes. My Star of David necklace glittered under the street lamps.
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. Her bright orange dress 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.
“So, Daniel,” said Millie, “what do we know about who runs this ‘Goth Club’ thing?”
“Kit-10,” I said, “what information do you have in your database about the owner of the NY9 Club Goth Night?”
“Accessing, s--,” replied the robotic feline in her simulated yet pleasantly-feminine voice. “The owner is known by the name ‘Natasha DuNoir’. Twenty-five years of age. Also a vocalist in an obscure rock music band called ‘Cemetery Sex’. Known for her fetishes involving gothic fashion and popular occultism.”
(It should be noted here that Kit-10, as one of her catlike characteristics, is completely unable to openly show respect to anyone. In fact, the closest she ever comes to it is by addressing me with a slight “s--” sound -- for “sir” -- and Millie by “m--” -- for ma’am”.)
“Well, that sounds disgusting,” shuddered Millie Drake in response to Kit-10’s description of Natasha DuNoir.
“Quite so, my dear Mills,” I agreed. “Quite so. Necrophilia and bad dress sense, hmmm? Then on top of that this DuNoir person has somehow managed to get an attachment of some kind of elusive dark energy. It appears we are here not a moment too soon.” …
Little did my companions and I know, as we approached the club, that we were being watched from a near by car, nondescript as the older model vehicle was. The man watching us was also rather nondescript; forty years of age, with sandy hair and common features, wearing a grey sweatshirt and tan slacks. His name was Johnny Molin, and the digital camera he wore on a cord about his neck marked him as a member of the paparazzi, those freelance photographers known to follow celebrities and public figures, hoping to capture some moment of scandal that they can sell to the tabloid news media.
“Holy crap!” he exclaimed as he watched us entering the NY9 Club. “It’s that Doctor Rumanos character! I thought I might get something interesting if I hung around this ‘gothic rock night’ bull, but this is great! They say he’s involved in the paranormal or satanic cults or somethin’ like that! He has that girl with him too that used to be an actress! I’ve hit the friggin’ jackpot!” …
My name is Doctor Daniel Rumanos. With the heritage of the legendary Watchers of Algol, whose technology appears as magic, I protect Earth from all manner of menace. I am -- The Daemon-Star! …
Millie, Kit-10, and I entered the NY9 Club, my superior mentalist abilities making the big door bouncer ignore us. We continued onwards to investigate the establishment.
It was a fairly small club, decorated as one would expect for the “Goth Night”, with rubber bats and dark lighting. There were a few drunken patrons dancing badly to the synthesised music.
“Daniel,” said Millie, “look at that.”
I looked over to what my friend had indicated and beheld an horror. Amongst the lighting of the nightclub I beheld the presence of swirling dark strips of ebon energy, drifting about the establishment.
“By the Triple Star!” I swore. “Kit-10, can you analyse the nature of that energy?”
“Accessing, s--,” replied the robot. “Energy field is identified as belonging to a type known to emanate from an ancient order of being, one of the types commonly referred to as 'elementals’, that once existed in the area of West Africa. It is remembered by religious legends of the area by the name ‘Juju’.”
“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed Millie. “The Black Juju! We encountered their powers before!”
“Yes,” I remembered, “and were only able to defeat it by use of an ancient Hebrew prayer. In order for even that to be effective here, we shall have to find out who is channelling the Juju powers. It is most likely a case of possession, and…”
“Danger detected, s--” suddenly interrupted Kit-10. “Danger.”
“Daniel!” cried Millie Drake. “Oh my goodness!”
I whirled around to see what had so startled my companions. The Juju energy had suddenly coalesced into an huge mass, a black pulsating horror that hovered several metres above the floor -- and which was heading directly for us!
Then, as soon as it appeared, the darksome power vanished.
“What happened, Daniel?” asked Millie Drake.
“It was simply an outward show of bravado by the Juju,” I pondered. “When the Juju power manifests here at its full intensity, it will be far beyond that!”
Then, from the backroom of the club, a woman came forth, clad in ebony-coloured “Goth” attire from head to toe. Her face was animalistic and smeared with grotesque makeup, and her hair hung in greasy braids from her horrid head.
“Hello, Doctor Rumanos and friends,” she sneered. “I am Natasha DuNoir. It’s no surprise seeing you here. I’ve been told in the occult underground about your meddling and interference in our scene. That ends tonight, Doctor. The power at my command is beyond anything you can exorcise!”
At this pronouncement, and before we could even react to her presence, the Juju powers suddenly came forth in earnest, all around Natasha DuNoir and growing greatly in intensity. …
By now, the paparazzi known as Johnny Molin had entered and was arguing with the bouncer.
“No, I need to see some ID,” said the big door man. “I don’t care how old you look, sir, it’s the rules here.”
“Oh for chrissakes,” swore Molin, hunting in his pocket for his wallet. “Okay, here it is.”
The bouncer glanced at Johnny Molin’s state-issued driving licence and then motioned him in, warning him not to bother the other customers with his camera. …
“My power is supreme!” continued the sickening Natasha DuNoir. “It’s power I will use to make myself queen of the world!”
“That is ridiculous, DuNoir,” I countered. “The energy within you, which you have undoubtedly invoked and enhanced with some type of indecent sexual rite, is known as the Juju and…”
“I won’t listen to any of your elitist talk, Doctor Jew!” screeched the repugnant woman. “My power is something you want to steal, just like you people steal everything! But you will now learn, as I use this power to destroy you!”
It was then that the odious Natasha DuNoir released the full force of the enhanced Juju power upon us. It came at us like a searing wave of horror that threatened to undo our very being.
“It’s too late for you now, Doctor!” DuNoir added. “You and your friends are done, and I will be queen of this world!!”
Do you understand the very depths of utter and complete horror in which we found ourselves, there at the NY9 Club Goth Night? There we were, the lovely Miss Millie Drake, the robotic Kit-10, and me -- Doctor Daniel Rumanos, alien secret agent and Knight of the Eternal Spires. There we were, facing the completely insane and Juju-possessed woman known to eternal shame as Natasha DuNoir. There we were, as she unleashed the full force of the occult power within her -- the same darksome energy she intended using in her bid to make herself ruler of the human race!
“You will now die by the powers I have!” she repeated in utter madness. “You will be dead, and I will be free to become queen of the world!”
The Juju power had by now completely surrounded Millie, Kit-10, and me, its darkling energies causing us confusion and pain as they swirled in an ebony maelstrom of savage occult terror.
“Daniel,” said Millie, “I don’t think I can fight it much longer. It’s just... so terrible... the things it puts in my mind!”
“I know, Millie,” I replied, “but we must resist. We must fight off the Juju power and resist so we can save the world from this horrible creature known as Natasha DuNoir!”
I heard the sickening DuNoir still cackling insanely. “You cannot beat me, Doctor Rumanos! I'm going to show that I’m better than you! I already have this club and my band, and soon I'll have this planet too!!”
By now the occult power had almost brought Millie and me to our knees, and even Kit-10 was literally spinning in circles, her circuitry confused by the dark energies.
Then something exceedingly bizarre occurred. The would-be celebrity photographer known as Johnny Molin had made it over to our location. He raised his camera and started snapping off shots, each accompanied by a blinding flash of light.
“Oh yeah!” exclaimed Molin. “This is even better than I expected! I can see the headlines now! ‘Satanism and Black Magic at NYC Nightclub’! They’ll pay me a fortune for these shots!”
At this, Natasha DuNoir turned away from us and looked at Johnny Molin with disdain on her bestial face. At the same time, I noticed that the Juju energy was lessening in its attack on us.
“Kit-10!” I called. “Blast her!”
The robotic cat, recovering from her system problems, then fired a shot of her nose-laser directly at Natasha DuNoir, hitting the loathsome woman directly in her midsection. She staggered back several paces and looked back in fear at the Juju powers.
“Baruch Hashem,” I prayed, taking Millie‘s hand. “Baruch Hashem.”
With this, the full power of the Juju reversed its course and headed directly to-wards Natasha DuNoir. Within moments, it had completely surrounded the darksome female, enveloping her in its embrace of eldritch horror beyond all endurance. We heard her give one long scream of terror and pain before she then simply vanished along with the energies.
I looked around. There was no sign of the Juju power, and the nauseating Natasha DuNoir was also no more. Johnny Molin had left the club, unharmed and happy with his photography.
“Are you all right, Millie?”I enquired concernedly.
“Yes, I’m okay now,” she assured me. “What happened?”
“The flashbulb going off distracted Natasha DuNoir,” I explained, “causing her to lose her control over the Juju. It naturally turned upon her -- with a little help from my prayer -- and the resultant clash has taken her with the Juju into another realm of reality, where she can do no more harm.”
“Well, that’s good!” cheered Millie. “She was a repulsive person anyway.”
“Quite so,” I agreed wholeheartedly. “Quite so, indeed. My friends, our work here is finished. Fortunately, the club’s rather intoxicated patrons seem to have barely noticed the melee. I will speak to Commissioner Hurley at the NYPD about having the place condemned. As for us, we can stop and pick up some deli before returning to headquarters. Good shooting, by the way, Kit-10.”
“Of course, s--,” replied the little robot.
“But what about that photographer guy?” Millie questioned.
“Oh, the paparazzi type?” I mused. “Worry not about him. The very nature of the energy projected by the Juju will cause his camera to have malfunctioned, hmmm? The photos will not turn out, and there will be no tabloid expose to frighten the public. It will be like my old friend, Captain GM Spaulding the African Explorer, told me about when he took some pictures of the native girls.”
“What about them?” queried Millie as she, Kit-10, and I exited the nightclub.
“They were not developed,” I replied.
***** DANIEL RUMANOS AND MILLIE DRAKE SHALL RETURN
