Ultimate WildC.A.T.S. #4

[tjkernan]

Ultimate WildC.A.T.S. #4
"Into The Temple of Forgotten Dreams"
TJK

Manchester Black, Breathtaker, Antiphon, The Key, Triumph, and Deathwing, the six members of WildC.A.T.S., stood just inside the entrance of the stone temple home of Guedhe. In their attempted conquest of the island of Diabloverde, all their other enemies were vanquished. They had plowed through an army of pirates, thieves, thugs, and a tribe of cannibal warrior women.

The inside of the temple was a long corridor. The way was dark, but the path could be seen by the scant light of torches dotting the walls in sporatic places.

"I think," said Manchester Black, attempting to peer into the shadowy hall, "it is best if we keep this in a tight-knit group. We have no idea what we are walking into here, this place could be trapped, so I need everybody to have open eyes and ears..."

The Key stepped forward, "My eyes can see in different spectrums. I don't see any traps as far as I can see down this corridor."

Manchester nodded, "Good. I want Key and Deathwing in front. Breathtaker and I are next. Triumph bringing up the rear. Antiphon I want you to stay here at the entrance and keep an eye out for any surprises. If we get into trouble, you can come running."

Antiphon nodded as the remaining five members starting walking deeper into the temple.

---

The Key and Deathwing were about thirty yards ahead of the rest. The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, an oddity because from the outside the temple did not appear to be this long. The Key had long expected to find stares leading downward and further into the temple, but so far, nothing but a straight, dimly lit corridor, just tan stone and torches and dust.

Triumph brought up the rear of the group. He could barely see Breathtaker in front of him, but Manchester in his black leather duster was nothing but a shadow and he had long lost sight of The Key and Deathwing, and with every step the people in front of him seemed to get farther and farther ahead of him.

And he heard music.

The sounds were faint, but Triumph could swear he heard a song playing. The music was very faint, but he could swear he heard it, and the song sounded familiar. Triumph stopped walking for a minute and concentrated. Triumph closed his eyes.

Triumph did recognize the song. "Ain't no sunshine" by Bill Withers.

Triumph opened his eyes. No dark corridor, no dust, no musty stank of old death. Instead, he was standing in a different hallway. This one was painted cream. To his left was a white door that lead to the bathroom. To his right were pictures. One was of of him, Will McIntyre, and his partner Kyle Hale, standing outside the Red Rock Amphitheater, right before The Rolling Stones concert. Another was of the two of them opening Christmas gifts in front of a silver tree trimmed with blue garland and blue bells.

Triumph was standing his the hallway of his home outside of Phoenix, Arizona.

Triumph smelled turkey bacon and coffee coming from the kitchen. He heard the song playing on the radio in the room.

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone. Only darkness every day..."

Then he heard someone in the kitchen, singing along with the song. Triumph ran down the hallway, and entered the kitchen.

"About time you came out of that bathroom."

Triumph stood there in shock, unable to speak. Kyle was standing at the island in the center of the kitchen, scraping some scrambled eggs from a frying pan onto a pair of plates. He was wearing his favorite pair of grey running pants and maroon Sun Devils t-shirt.

Triumph turned around and looked down the hallway and quickly looked back. The sun was shining outside the window, reflecting off the glass and hitting the glass table, where the Sunday paper sat unread. next to a glass of orange juice. The plates each had three slices of turkey bacon, scrambled eggs with green and red peppers, and a piece of sourdough toast. Kyle had a big smile on his face as he carried the two plates to the table and sat down. The song changed, leaving Bill Withers for "Midnight Train TO Georgia". Kyle sat down and winked at Will then turned his attention to the the newspaper, grabbing out the sports section to search for the results of last night's basketball game.

"You going to come eat?"

Will McIntyre smiled and nodded as he walked into the kitchen.

----

And then there were four...

[tjkernan]

The Key wasn't really paying much attention to Deathwing at this point. To be honest he was bored, and he hated being bored. So far, this whole endeavor to Diabloverde had yielded little in the form of excitement. He was a strategist, a man who figured out puzzles and conundrums, and so far this trip had been little more than an exercise in brute force. Little brain work had been necessary.

The twinkle of something to the left caught The key's eye. He veered off his walking down the path to examine what it was. In a small whole in the wall sat an ornate golden box. The Key examined the area around the box and found no traps, so he pulled out the golden box. Suddenly, with a loud crunch, the wall separated. Before The Key was a set of stairs. The Key looked around behind him, no other members of the team could be seen. he looked down the stairs but he could see little.

The Key stepped into the opening, and onto the stair. Suddenly, there was ample little. Spread out before him was an elaborate maze, which stretched as far as the eyes could see. There was no ceiling above him, just blue sky. he could see for miles, and for miles the stone walls of the maze stretched.

"Fascinating." The Key said to himself as he walked down the stairs. At the bottom, at the entrance to the maze was a a stone door. On the door, written in red, were the words "Open it". The door itself had no handle to open it, just a small empty space.

The Key looked down at the golden box he still held. He opened the box and found inside an item similar to a Rubik's cube, only with ten squares per side, each little square coming in a variety of colors, and all the sides were a scramble of colors, except one, which was all red.

The Key picked up the cube, and discovered a small piece of parchment beneath it. He pulled out the paper and looked at the writing upon it.

'The first one is on me. The rest is up to you. Follow the maze and open the doors. Only the smartest shall make it through.'

"A puzzle," Mumbled The Key to himself, "how wonderful..."

The Key took the cube and examined it again, he looked at the hole in the door that was roughly the same size. He placed the cube, red side in, into the hole. A click could be heard. The Key pushed the door open, grabbing the cube back out, and walked into the labrynth.

Two down, three to go.

----

Breathtaker smelled fire. Not the minor stench from the torches which lined the walls of the stone hallway, but a real fire. Something burning.

"You smell that?" asked Breathtaker to Manchester Black, who was walking in front of her, about twenty feet ahead. Manchester said nothing, simply shrugging his shoulders and stepping up his pace.

Manchester moved into a stretch where there was an absence of torches, a section where the duo were essentially walking into darkness. Breathtaker didn't like it, walking into almost total darkness. She stood there, at the edge of what little light remained. Manchester was already inside of it.

The smell of fire was stronger here. Strangely, Breathtaker thought she saw a flicker of flame. She stepped inside the darkness. As she walked she called out of Manchester several times, but he said nothing.

Suddenly, Breathtaker ran smack into a door. Strange, because it was smooth, wooden, felt like it was painted. She felt around and found a metal door knob. The whole things was out of place and very perplexing.

Breathtaker turned the knob and opened the door.

Breathtaker was standing in the doorway across the street from Pippi's, a nightclub in the Overtown section of Miami. The club was the primary hangout of Frenchie "Razor" Washington, a powerful drug lord Breathtaker, in her days as a member of The Hangmen, worked for in her youth. She and the other members of The Hangmen starting hanging out there as well, before the rest of the gang decided to go into business for themselves, killing "Razor" and nearly killing Breathtaker, who stayed loyal to her employer, as well.

Now, Pippi's was on fire. Huge flames shooting into the night sky. People were rushing out of the front door, frantic women in short skirts and guys who looked like they were straight off of a rap album cover.

As people rushed out Breathtaker saw her. She was hard to miss, as she stood nearly two foot taller than everybody else who walked out. Her skin was dark, like nearly everybody else, and she wore an expensive pant suit that didn't do a very good job of concealing the pistol tucked in her waist in the back.

Stranglehold, chief enforcer for the Hangmen. She had taken part in the beating which left Breathtaker bloody, broken, and nearly dead.

Breathtaker watched as Stronghold exited the building alone and began to walk down the street, away from the crowds of people. None of the other members of The Hangmen seemed to be with her tonight, which was unusual, but not unheard of. Stronghold was a little more antisocial than some of the other members of the gang.

"Well," said Breathtaker to herself, "Guess this is my chance. i am going to make that bitch pay for what she did to me. I am not that little girl anymore. First you, then the rest of those fuckers. I am going to see all of you burn, and if all of Miami goes down with you, good..."

Breathtaker walked out into the chaos in the street.

Three down, two to go...

[tjkernan]

Manchester Black heard the music, "God Save The Queen", while we walked through the darkness. Somebody was playing tricks, trying to mess with his brain.

"Frack this bloody shit," declared Manchester, and he stopped walking. He reached into his duster to pull out his his pack of smokes and lighter. He wasn't wearing his duster, the material was all wrong. instead he was wearing the jacket of a suit, and judging by the material rolling through fingers, and very nice and expensive jacket at that.

As Manchester lit his cigarette he saw he was in a bathroom. A nice executive bathroom. Manchester flipped the switch to the room. As a master of creating illusions, if this was in fact one, it was an amazingly good one. He could smell the potpourri of apples and cinnamon that sat on the marble counter next to the sink. he could here people talking in the room outside the door, as well as the continuing music. He looked in the mirror above the sink and saw himself and the dark gray suit he wore. It was indeed a very expensive one. As he took a drag from his cigarette he felt the fan above his head pull the smoke up into it. he ran his free hand along the cold marble of the counter.

Manchester turned and opened the door, flinging it open. Before him was an office, a very nice one. The walls were filled with video screens, showing new programs from across the globe. Past the large desk were large plate windows. the sky was outside grey and cloudy. Manchester recognized the view of the buildings spread out before him. he was in downtown London.

Two people stood talking in the room. One was his sister Vera. She was folding several files and speaking with a tall man with black hair and a slender moustache. Manchester recognized him as well. Charles Cottsworth Pickney, a member of England's covert government agency, Black Six.

Vera turned to her brother with a stern frown upon her face, "I thought you told me you weren't going to smoke those things in the bathroom anymore. That potpourri and the fan don't hide those stinking fags, no matter what you think."

Before Manchester could respond Charles spoke, "Commander we have a situation that needs addressing. Kellor and his cronies are moving against our regime. Kellor thinks he can run Black Six better than you and is attempting to make political moves against you."

vera walked up and handed her brother the file. Manchester could smell her vanilla perfume. Her faux stern look turned to a more serious gesture, "We need to move against Kellor, and we need to make it swift and decisive. He never forgave you for leaving him in the cold when you took control of Black Six. He itches under all the power you carry, all the weight you have not only here, but around the world..."

Manchester nodded, and put his arm around his sister, "Well then I guess sis, we had better do something about that, shouldn't we..."

----

And then there was one...

[tjkernan]

Deathwing stepped on a bone. A human femur from the looks of it.

There were a lot of bones here, all human. Piles of them. As he walked further down the corridor it soon became impossible to step without walking on a bone. Dismantled human body after body, yard after yard of old bones from old humans.

Deathwing found an opening from the corridor. This opening led into a large antechamber. The room was piled with bones as well, all shoved to the sides by the walls, reaching all the way up to the bottoms of the torches, mountains of skulls and femurs and ribs and the other pieces that hold up the flesh of the living.

Near the back of the room sat a stone chair, with bones piled high on each side of it. In the chair sat a man, or at least something that resembled a man. The flesh upon the bones was pulled tight and greyed with the decay of time. The clothes were the trappings of the modern era, but they were faded and frayed from years of wear and lack of care. One the body's head, surrounded by tufts of occassional hair, sat a crown of gold and gems. In the lap of the body sat a sphere, the color inside it gray and white, like clouds, set against black, but swirling, every moving.

The creature on the stone thrown opened it's eyes and looked towards Deathwing. The eyes were sunk in and nothing but oily-black darkness.

"How isssss it, interloper," said the man on the throne, his voice hoarse and raspy, "that you have reached the chamber of Guedhe?"

Deathwing shrugged, "I followed the hall."

Guedhe leaned forward, his left nostril flaring, his mouth curled into a sneer, "Many humans have tried to walk that hall since I came to thisssss place. Then the Old Ones sealed me up and a saw no humans for a great long time. Then thisssss one came and I took his body, and new humans came once again and all fell prey to The Stealer of Dreams. hat is what Guedhe means, in the natives tongue, in cassssse you did not not..."

The sneer turned into a sick and twisted smile, a mouth missing all but a handful of teeth, "You were one of five who entered today. The resssssst fell prey to The Endless Dreaming, just like all men do. They will live in those dreams until the end of their days, not waking to eat or release. They will waste away, these creatures of flesh. Yet you are here, not in The Endless Dream?"

Deathwing looked around at the bones of the dead all around the room.

Guedhe continued to speak, "It has been so long since i have spoke in this world to another. I was a traveler from one of the Outer Planes. Outcasted from my own kind, I walked dimensions until I came upon a place known as The Dreaming. I was not welcome there either, but before they cast me out I stole a piece of The Dreaming, and brought it here with me. Now, I feed on the dreams on you fragile creatures..."

Deathwing laughed briefly, shaking his head. The move seemed to perplex Guedhe, who stood, holding his ball, before his thrown.

"Why do you laugh human," asked Guedhe, perplexed, "and I ask again, how is it that you are not affected as all the other have been?"

Deathwing took a step forward, his arm out so his wrist blades bounced the light of the torches off the shiny metal.

Deathwing took another step forward before speaking.

"The living dream..."

Deathwing stopped walking and started running towards Guedhe. From behind his back Guedhe pulled a pistol and fired a shot, but the hand was unsteady, and the bullet passed to Deathwing's left, striking a skull on a pile against the wall.

Deathwing moved with two yards of Guedhe, "I don't dream."

Before Guedhe could squeeze another shot off, Deathwing was upon him. He swung one of his wrist blades, the razor-sharp blades slicing the gun-wielding hand off at the wrist. In one fluid motion he dropped near the ground. He swept a leg behind Guedhe, sweeping the man from his feet. Guedhe fell backwards, clutching the precious sphere. The back of Guedhe's head struck the edge of the stone throne hard. Loud cracks of bone could be heard.

Guedhe's grip on the sphere loosened, as his head now sat oddly upon the broken neck.

Deathwing picked up the sphere. He felt strange power course through him. Tinglings in the back of his mind. Fragments of memories he did not feel were his.

Deathwing looked down at Guedhe, who stared up at him with his vacant black eyes. Then he brought the sphere down hard upon the head of Guedhe. The sphere shattered, as did the bone of the skull, caving in. From inside the sphere black sand spilled forth.

Something else came forth, though it wasn't anything physical. Dreams spilled forth. Dreams from hundreds captured spilled forth and swirled around the room, before most simple faded into the air.

Most, but not all. Some slipped into Deathwing. Deathwing fell to the ground, and for the first time in a very long time, Deathwing slept and had a dream.

When he awoke, Deahwing opened his eyes to see Manchester Black, Breathtaker, Triumph, and The Key stood above him. Manchester reached out his hand to help his friend up, while the other one held his cigarette to his lips.

"Nice job," said Manchester, whiffs of smoke filtering out his nose, "not quite sure what happened here, but it looks like you got the bloody job done here, my friend. Diabloverde is free of dictators, thugs, and pirates. The place is ours. now the real work can begin..."