Ult. Hellblazer #5 - Daydream Nation

[liquidsword34]

Ultimate Hellblazer #5
Daydream Nation

Even at six in the morning the Manhattan skyline looked like a collection of precious jewels through the windows of Papa Midnite's penthouse apartment, with every shining light only adding to the cities allure. With his perfectly tailored, top of the market white suit and top hat combo, staring out at the beauty of the city, Papa Midnite couldn't help but feel like a king. The moonlight bounced off his dark ebony skin, unable to avoid hitting the gigantic, seven foot tall frame stood in the window. The steady rhythm of a drum echoed throughout the smoke filled penthouse, being enthusiastically played by a dedicated servant, living only to provide music for his master, rapping his hands against the calfskin until they bled and then only continuing. Papa Midnite turned from his gazing to the circle of followers behind him, each dressed in simple rags. Each of the almost thirty followers looked different, ranging from a teenage college drop out; with his hair matted into dreadlocks by a combination of rebellion and bad hygiene, to an executive at one of the cities biggest banks; her fine suits that night replaced with simple cuts of material which placed her on the same level as those she sat beside.

"My children", Papa Midnite's voice was a powerful, bass filled, Jamaican voice, which would echo off every wall, making his followers feel surrounded by their leader's presence. "I can see our future. One world, where our children can live and play together, all equal, all in love", Papa Midnite sat cross legged in the middle of the circle with his back straight, projecting his voice as if to hundreds instead of just the small group around him. "We must unite our minds and stop living in these feeble bodies. We must abandon the physical world, my children, and form a nation of consciousnesses and minds. Already hundreds have joined my cause. Tonight, I have brought you here to join the next stage of my order".

Perfectly on cue, a pair of women dressed in the same style of white suit as Papa Midnite dragged a bound and gagged man out from the smoke, throwing him down in front of their Papa with ease. The women were skinny and frail, their skin chalk white and bruised all over like they were wasting away by the minute. The man, on the other hand, was clearly well fed, wearing snugly fitting sweatpants and a white t-shirt a few sizes too small for his over weight frame. "Living in our bodies has made us weak, and we must eradicate those too weak to take the next step. Harness their minds for our own uses, send the cancerous husk of a consciousness back to the grave. This example of glutton came to my attention not long ago, and tonight he will demonstrate to my newest children how the future will be". Papa placed his gigantic hands down on the face of the squealing, squirming man, tightening his grip until, with one sudden movement, he stopped moving.

"Magic and voodoo, as many of you already know, can do many things. I posses power capable of many miracles, including the one I have just performed. The mind of this lazy, useless hunk of meat is now vacant. We can move our consciousness through the network, throughout the nation, taking advantage of this extra power. Imagine day dreams, using the senses of a hive ten thousand strong, which feel as real as anything can. We already have networks of computers, sending information from one machine to another, and what is the human mind if not a complex machine, trapped within a factory where it cannot use its full potential? Imagine immortality, never having to worry about your health or any of our bodies other natural flaws. Tonight, you join the new world order, my children, and usher in the new dawn!"

***

"Coming up next on MTV, brand new Geordie Shore!", the television blared out at John Constantine, who between his mug of tea and backlog of trash TV was more than happy to spend his Tuesday afternoon camped out on the sofa. Kit had left to meet a publisher an hour ago, leaving John with the run of the place. As he swung his feet up onto the sofa, John grabbed a pile of letters off of the coffee table, spying one piece of mail in particular. Having only just moved into Kit's flat, John had managed to evade junk mail addressed to him at least for a short while. What with the small number of people who would find reason to and be able to send John a letter, it surprised him to find a small parcel with his name on it. John gleefully set down his mug and ripped open the brown paper, pulling out a small piece of paper and a metal compass, with a silver jewel in the centre. The edges were rusted and its glass had a single long crack along it, but the strangest thing was the hands. There were three hands of varying sizes, and each moved at a different pace in no particular direction as John turned it. It took Constantine a short while to realize that the longest hand remained pointed at him no matter how he moved the compass or himself, while the other two moved depending on how fast he turned the compass. The slower he moved it, the faster the hands whizzed around, it seemed, defying all logic.

It took John some time to remember the piece of paper, still halfway out the envelope. He grabbed it in one hand to read it. "Rub underside, want to travel, coordinates don't matter (Yet), E", was scrawled in messy pencil beneath a golden letter head naming the letter's place of origin as "Nasquam Asylum, A Small Town In Maine, Earth".

"I really should have more sense than this", John sighed as he rubbed his hand against the underside of the compass. At first, it felt smooth, but as he rubbed it seemed to peel away. The texture became rougher, first like wood, then like gravel. The room around John started to melt away, colours blending together like a painting streaking down in the hot sun. He couldn't feel his body any more as his consciousness seemed to leave the earthly plain, moving down a corridor of multi-coloured lights, some so strange that John couldn't even begin to describe them. And, as if the train had come off the tracks, John found himself laid down in fresh cut grass on a warm summers eve, with sounds of festivity and fun ringing off in the distance.

John opens his eyes and discovers himself fully clothed, in his standard coat and trousers, just how he would always picture himself in his mind, as opposed to the grey boxer shorts he was wearing while laid on the sofa. John approached the encampment of sorts in the distance while looking around at his surroundings, finding that aside from the series of tents he was heading towards, there was only grass for miles around. The moon was full and as bright as a setting sun, allowing John to read the sign on the gate of the encampment. "Welcome to our world famous bemusement park, in town for one day only on the seventeenth of April!", was carved into a rickety piece of wood on the door. After double checking to ensure he hadn't misread the sign, John pushed the gate open.

Hundreds of candles mounted on poles illuminated the straw covered grounds, which were about the size of one half of a football pitch. All around various stalls were set-up, with activities ranging from buying shrunken heads to a game which Constantine could best describe as a tall, slender, pale man putting his hand inside of a black hole hanging aloft, to the amusement of three children. Most of the hundreds of people in the fair ground were dressed in almost medieval clothes such as smock-frocks, mumbling to each other excitedly as they surveyed the sights and sounds of the bemusement park.

"WHY ISN'T PHONETIC SPELT THE WAY IT SOUNDS?!", a portly man with a grey beard roared out as he stood on a soap box in front of a small crowd, all sharing the same bemused expression, clearly getting their money's worth. John casually put his hands in his pockets as he strolled through the clearing, drawing little attention despite his odd appearance relative to those around him. Out of the corner of his eye John spotted a man in a white suit, with short greying hair and black glasses leaning against a wall, gazing absently across at John.

"Well this, this is something", John chuckled as he walked over, meeting the stranger in a hand shake. "Mister E. I thought you died back in Pakistan, during that thing with the vampire".

"Indeed, you did", Mister E smiled with his cracked lips. Although he stood taller than Constantine, Mister E was slouched slightly, with wrinkled and pale skin. "But you can't keep a good dog down, as they say. A few pills a week, some exercise and proper diet and I'm right as rain". Mister E spoke in a distinguished and strong southern accent, sounding completely relaxed surrounded by madness.

"So, this is your doing, then?", John leaned against the fence next to Mister E, observing a beast with the body of a donkey and the head of an ape prepare a goulash dish containing komodo dragon meat. "What is this? Magic? Illusions?". Mister E turned and chuckled.

"Wild accusations, Jonathan".

"Come on, it's obvious. Aside from all the freaks? The next full moon isn't scheduled for until the twenty-fifth. Oh, and you're making eye contact with me".

"Problem?"

"You don't have eyes".

"What can I say".

"How about we start with the simple bits? Why did I get sent this", John reached into his pocket and yanked out the compass, "from a place called Nasquam Asylum?"

"Ah, well then", Mister E took the compass out of John's hands, smiling as he did so. "I'll need to give you all the details. After a bit of trouble with this voodoo priest in Jamaica not long ago, my mind was shot. My brain's fried, yah see, and it's not like I was no spring chicken before. So, old Uncle Sam put me up in this new place. It's in a small town in Maine, just me and a load of poor traumatised saps watching classic movies and playing ping-pong. The problem's the voodoo priest, Papa Midnite".

"They never just fuck off after you beat them, do you?"

"Less of that language would be preferable, but you're right. I got word of some new scheme he was planning and made arrangements with the nurses. See, Nasquam Asylum isn't your normal sort of place. It's mostly...shall we say special cases? So, their staff know I'm serious. When I found out what Papa Midnite was doing, I gave this compass to the nurses and told them to send it to you if and when something happens to me".

"And what has happened to you?"

"Why, it's quite simple: I've been mind jacked. A bit of voodoo, and my consciousness was pulled from my body into this hive mind Papa Midnite has. Midnite runs this cult, calls them his children, and they have this little network of minds. They can use it to communicate, virtual reality, maybe even switch bodies if they get strong enough".

"What's the problem, then? Some nutters have a laugh with telepathy, nobody gets hurt, right?"

"He's kidnapping people, wiping their minds, and then using them to power his network like batteries. I've always told you..."

"Batteries are a Soviet plot, yes", John chuckled as he finished Mister E's sentence, humouring the old man. "So what now? Where are we?"

"Patience, patience". Without warning, Mister E strode away, forcing Constantine to jump forward to keep up with him. "Papa runs his cult by preaching about unity, equality and other such socialist ideas", Mister E told John without a hint of sarcasm or irony, "when in fact it's all for profit. People pay him enough cash, and they can jump into the network and use it for anything. We've got people in the Forbes Four-hundred paying top dollar to do things not even money can provide, at the expense of innocent people. But, he still can't let go of his want for revenge. So he kidnapped my consciousness to have me tortured by two of his best".

"And where are those two fine members of the public?", John asked as Mister E approached an animal enclosure, with two teenage boys sat on the wooden fence looking down into a small pit.

"Bloody weird these things is. Wadda yah call 'em?", one of the boys asked Mister E, who didn't respond. Constantine peered down to see two men with gigantic fly's heads blindly walking around a small, dirt covered pit, waving their arms out in front of them wildly.

"There's a pair of bloat flies with the heads of screaming cultists somewhere around here, I think. Rank amateurs didn't know what they were doing in the slightest, it took me maybe half an hour to take control here. They could barely keep me captive for ten minutes! In half that time, I'd already populated this park of mine".

"So what's the plan, E? I assume you didn't just bring me here to fuel my nightmares for the next few decades, right?"

"Oh heavens no, if I wanted to do that I could show you a fair few things more. Did you know that the Iraqi camel spider and the common incubus share enough DNA to produce offspring, if the correct magic is used? There's a very nice fellow in Australia who has sent me some pictures".

"I knew there was a reason I stopped talking to you, and it's not just that you go off on those ridiculous tangents. Make with the plan".

"Yes, well. This here compass allows us to travel throughout the network, from section to section. All we need to do is find Papa Midnite, kill him, go back into our own bodies, then never have to worry about any of this again".

"Beautiful. Now how about we get started so I can go home and drink until I never again see the mental image of Marilyn Monroe chewing off her own eyebrows".

"I thought that attraction was particularly inspired", Mister E raised the compass up and grabbed John by the arm in a hard vice grip. As Mister E closed his eyes, John once again saw everything around him melt away into nothingness. This time, as the sights and sounds disappeared, John found himself floating in a white space, a vacant mind with the memories put back into storage. John floated into the endless stream of thoughts, eventually finding where the compass was directing him to.

***

"Papa", a member of the cult cried across the room, clutching her head with both hands, grabbing clumps of her short blonde hair in her hands.

"What is it, my child", Papa Midnite asked in a hush tone as he strode across the room, stepping over various seated and prone followers with ease. Most were deep inside the network, living out their wildest fantasies.

"I can sense somebody moving around the network...maybe two people. I thought I sensed somebody enter around ten minutes ago but-"

"And you didn't think to tell me?", Midnite growled, baring his teeth angrily. He stood at least two foot taller than the skinny, pale faced follower, and his fine suit was in stark contrast to her dusty rags. With almost no emotion at all Midnite slapped her hard across the face with his mammoth hand, leaving a red mark streaking across her cheek. "I assigned you the role of over-watcher so you could instantly inform me of any problems. Don't misplace my trust, child".

"I...I'm sorry", the woman stammered. "I believe that whoever entered the network has travelled to another area, like they're hunting for something. I think...I think the blind man has escaped with whoever this is. It may be a failed rescue attempt, because they're still in the network".

"I'll find them", Papa sighed as he sat down on the floor cross legged, closing his eyes. He focused, turning his connection to the network back on. The door from his mind opened, allowing his consciousness to swim out into the sea of minds connected together. The over-watcher guided him to one mind in particular, showing Midnite the way and opening the doors for him. Midnite saw hundreds of images flash past his mind as he pushed his way through, reaching his location.

***

"So, how are we doing this again?", John asked as the yellow submarine bobbed along. He and Mister E sat at the controls of their craft as their passengers strummed out and sang "Love You To", the sound echoing around the eighteen by ten feet craft.

"Somebody obviously wanted to meet this long haired rabble", Mister E said as he switched the gear from "pretty damn fast" to "wow, that's very fast" with the gigantic yellow handle in his right hand. He was laid back into the yellow leather seat, completely relaxed. "Thoughts don't just die when you're not actively thinking about them. Why, you probably hadn't thought about your birthday in some time, doesn't mean you've forgotten it. So, we jumped into whichever mind was storing this thought, and here we are".

"Am I wrong to think this is just your convoluted and ridiculous explanation for this?", John asked as he put his feet up on the dashboard, staring out into the light blue ocean they were traversing.

"Perhaps not. All you need to know is that Papa Midnite will know we're here, and without taking the whole network down and destroying every consciousness currently actively linked into it, he'll need to come in and get us if he wants us out".

"And then?"

"And then we fight him. We break his mind and leave him stranded here". As Mister E said this, something smashed into the side of the submarine. The whole vessel shook, sending musical instruments flying around.

"Just play "A Day In the Life" while we sort this out, lads", John shouted back at the band, who managed to gain their composure and start playing again. As John turned back to face outwards, a gargantuan, pink tentacle hit the submarines glass windscreen, leaving a crack in it. A colossal squid rose up in front of the now halted vehicle, with Papa Midnite stood on one of its eight tentacles as three others wrapped around the submarine, crushing it with a vice grip.

"You thought you could escape so easily, E", Papa taunted, his voice seeming as clear as if he were stood next to John. "This entire network is mine. I control everything that goes on here!"

"Two heads are better than one", Mister E calmly replied as he thrust the shift from "park" into "DON'T DO THAT!", sending the submarine careering forward out of the squids grip and smashing into one of its wide eyes. The animal didn't respond, as Papa Midnite had been smart enough to imagine a robotic squid. He's smart like that. The squid swung one of its legs at the submarine, which avoid it with a swift barrel roll.

"This can't be bloody happening!", John yelled angrily as he was flung from his seat, hitting the ceiling before he could imagine he was wearing a seatbelt.

"It's not, really", Mister E responded as he span the steering wheel around, speeding away from the squid.

"THIS IS THE LAST TIME I HELP YOU, OLD MAN!", Constantine landed back in his seat. "What're we doing?"

"Well he seems to have us at a disadvantage, so we're jumping to a new mind", Mister E pulled the compass out of his pocket and grabbed John by the shoulder, pulling him in. The hands spun around wildly as for the third time, John saw his surroundings melt away, the music becoming more distant as he fell out of the yellow submarine into the abyss once more. And once again, the compass seemed to direct his mind, pushing him through to where he needed to be.

***

"What's your plan?", John muttered to Mister E as they trekked down the river, flanked by beautiful, tall, tropical trees. The high humidity made it hard to stay cool, forcing both men to discard their jackets and shoes. Mister E held the compass in his hand, looking past it into the blue water as fish swam past them downstream. A group of red and blue parrots circled overhead, spying down on the pair.

"I'll improvise, we'll find a way to put Midnite down. Great Americans can overcome anything if they set their mind to it!"

"So that's me screwed", John sarcastically replied. As he went to take a stop forward, John was grabbed by the shirt by Mister E, stopping him in his tracks. Seconds later the imposing figure of Papa Midnite formed from the tropical stream, towering over the duo. John and Mister stood rooted to the spot, looking up at the mammoth stood before them. Papa Midnite folded his arms and gave John a piercing stare.

"Why do you insist on troubling me, Constantine? I have probed your companion's mind, he is mentally disturbed and senile, yet you trust him?"

"The old man's not all right in the head, but I trust him enough to know we're better off without people like you starting cults", Constantine said. With Midnite's attention drawn to John, Mister E took his chance, forming a blunderbuss in his hands and blasting Papa Midnite in the chest with it. The gigantic witch doctor was thrown backwards off of his feet, slamming down into the shallow stream and splashing water up.

"Come on", Mister E told John while grabbing him by the coat again.

"We've got him on the back foot, we can finish him off here!"

"And he can imagine his head back on his shoulders, John. We're in the mind of one of his followers, even somebody brain dead enough to follow this man will be able to take control of a fight in their own mind. We've got to keep moving", Mister E sighed as he pulled out the compass once again. John was still not used to the feeling of being dragged away from one mind in the network into another, but he had to choice but to once again fall out of one memory into another.

***

John sat on a beach lounger, facing out towards the dark blue sea, a warm cup of coffee in his hands as the cold wind blew against his face. Mister E sat next to him, running his bare feet against the sand.

"Can you stop doing that?"

"Brushing the sand?"

"No, throwing us into peoples minds like it's getting banned next week", John stood up and looked around. The duo were sat on a beach, with some boarded up stores on the board walk just in view and flocks of seagulls patrolling the wet sand. John could already see Papa Midnite walking towards him, now sporting a fur coat to keep warm. "Are we just going to keep running?"

"No", Mister E climbed up from his chair, "I think we're ready to make our stand". Mister E grabbed the compass, span it around a few times then passed it to John. "When I give you the signal, do it".

"What?"

"It!"

"How the hell did you get through Vietnam with this attitude?"

"With some missing fingernails, but a dossier of communist nuclear secrets safely stashed in a box buried behind a McDonald's in Texas, thank you very much", Mister E snapped as he walked forward to meet Papa Midnite. "Just do what I say, please". The two sides stood staring at each other for a few seconds, eyeing each other up.

"Are you done playing these childish games?", Papa Midnite flashed a smile from beneath his tilted top hat.

"Just one more game", Mister E said. "Call it a riddle. What happens, when an object which can move people through a network of minds is around enough thought based activity, that it picks up second hand energy? Especially when said object was created by an eccentric like myself"

"Oh, you old bastard!", Papa Midnite forgot, for a second, what realm they were in. Instead of creating some sort of weapon, or even trying to will the compass away from Constantine, he lunged forward, sprawling into the sand at the magician's feet.

"We're in my head right now, Papa, and this compass has collected enough energy to be turned into a weapon, what with all the travelling from mind to mind and the rain forest and the hippies. With its current coordinates, the compass will rip through your network, expelling that second hand energy and leaving your followers's minds detached, damaged and without anywhere to go, disappearing into the afterlife; while I go back into my body and disconnect from your network before any harm can befall me".

"What about the people he's kidnapped?", John asked Mister E with some amount of concern in their voice.

"It'll be a mercy kill for most of them. It's the best we can do, sadly. Now do it!"

"Do w...", John started to protest, but as he tried to think of what 'it' was, the compass seemed to activate. John was flung out of Mister E's mind into a haze of colours, swimming through a lagoon of memories and dreams. The current pulled him downstream as minds floated beneath the water, evaporating into bubbles as energy from the compass attacked. A buzzing hit John's ears as he felt himself reaching the end of the stream, washing up back into his own mind as behind him the network collapsed in on itself in a hurricane of light, sound and ideas...

***

"Have you just been sat on your arse doing nothing all day then?", Kit asked as she walked into her flat, spotting Constantine still perched on the sofa.

"Yeah, pretty much", John picked up the TV remote, content to spend the rest of the day watching trashy TV in peace.

***

"Erik?", the nurse called over as Mister E climbed up off of his bed. His room was small, painted baby blue with a television mounted on a wall. Mister E worse a white suit, as always. The young blonde nurse smiled at Mister E as she grasped his hand and helped him stand up. "Are you OK? Doctor Amity was just about ready to send the special group after you".

"I'm perfectly fine thank you, Trish", Mister E politely replied. "Just a spot of brain trouble. You know how my mind is now a days".

"Of course. They're playing Gaslight in the auditorium, Erik. I can describe what's happening to you, if you want".

"That sounds just perfect", Mister E smiled as the nurse grasped his hand, leading him out of his room.

-The End-