Post by jackalope on Sept 14, 2012 4:59:16 GMT -5
Ultimate Wonder Woman #21
Fear and Wonder: The Coming Madness pt. 3
Fear and Wonder: The Coming Madness pt. 3
Diana opened her eyes. A few seconds passed and a smile grew on her face. She sat up looking around her room. Weapons hung on one wall, opposite which was the mural of her homeland. Directly facing her was a window, in front of which lay her new desk covered in books and papers and a laptop; a device which frustrated her to no end. A pile of clothes and her armour lay on the ground. She could see her bag, opened at the base of the desk, her short sword sticking out. She would not need that today, Iris made sure that she knew this. Vibrating with excitement, she let a laugh slip from her. Turning to the clock, she watched it tick from 5:59 to 6:00. Beside the clock an intermediate English Grammar book lay open, on top of a 'basics' and a 'beginners' book. Still grinning, she leapt out of bed.
Naked, she started to sing (slightly off-key) in Greek:
“<As Oceans crash, wind whips our sails,
Men dare not meet our gorgon's gaze,
Hades calls out to bring to him souls,
Ares' war cry for blood, for rage...>”
Lighting a match, she danced across the floor in front of the fire mantle. She placed incense in each of the hearth-statues, and let the trails of smoke float out.
“<But we Sisters are not for them to ask,
by the fury, the shield and spear,
For Mother, Lover, Maiden, Huntress,
Queen and Wise Athena we bare...>”
She pulled on her armour and some short blue shorts. Lifting her bed, she grabbed a small concrete slab that she kept stashed there. Hefting it on to her shoulder, she lowered the bed and walked to the window.
“<And Hermes, thief god, last of all,
brings the message to men's kings, he,
warns, approaching Amazons, fear
the glorious army of women free...>”
With her free hand she slid the window open, revealing a thin ledge and a one story drop. She swung her legs outside, letting her bare feet dangle. She dropped. Landing gracefully, she rose up to the dim morning light, and smelt the spring air. Smiling, she leapt over the spiked iron fence and started to run. The sun was slowly rising. The cool concrete on her bare feet felt reassuring. She switched the concrete slab from her left shoulder to her right.
It was going to be a good day.
* * *
It wasn't going to be a good day.
The shouting reverberated through the paper-thin walls. As Sgt. Mike Schorr and Sgt. Harold Champion jogged up the stairs, the shouting became screaming. A woman stepped out of the apartment to look what was happening. Schorr held out his hand, telling her to remain inside. She saw the holstered weapons and nodded, shutting the door. The screaming grew louder, sounding less and less human. Schorr ran, arriving at the door, followed closely by Champion. Mike knocked on the door hard.
“Open up! This is the Gateway City Police Department! We have a report of violence taking place in this apartment.”
The screaming continued. Schorr looked to Harold and nodded. He took a step back and slammed his shoulder into the door, which flew off its frame. Immediately the screaming stopped. The cops stepped into the room. Garbage lay over the ground, a TV played Nascar Racing mute to their side. The room stunk of defecation and vomit. A couple of used syringes lay on a makeshift table.
“Addicts,” Champion whispered.
Schorr held his finger to his mouth. They waited a second for any noise to arise. A sniffle. Crying. Mike pointed down the hallway and started to move.
“This is the Gateway City Police; we are here to investigate a possible assault. Please come out with your hands above your heads,” he called.
Passing through the darkened hallway the crying became louder. A door stood ajar allowing a thin beam of light to be cast out across the stained patterned carpet. Weapons drawn, the cops stood either side of it. Mike pushed the door open and quickly stepped in, sweeping the room. His hands dropped.
“Shit.”
“What is...?” Harold stepped inside and cast his eyes away. The room was covered in the blood and flesh. Torn limbs lay around the old mattresses that lay on the floor. In the corner of the room stood a skinny blond girl, shivering and crying in underwear, her blood stained arms wrapped and her chest. Late teens or early twenty's, the girl had the dark rings around her eyes of someone much older. Carefully Mike walked towards her.
“Dispatch, this is Unit 7-12, we have multiple 10-45D's. Forensics’ and Homicide required.” He turned and let go of his radio. “What the fuck Mike, get away from her!”
“What?” Mike shook his head, looking back at his partner. “Look at her...”
The girl was quieting sobbing. “It wasn't... it wasn't.” She looked down as the blood pooled around her bare feet. Falling back against the walls, she slid down and curled up in the corner, pulling her legs to her chest. “I didn't...”
“Dispatch, backup incoming, hold tight.”
“We missed the killer again...” Mike rubbed his eyes. “Fuck Champion, what the hell are we doing!? That's the sixth one this week!”
Harold looked at the young woman. “I know.”
* * *
Cheetah ran. The blood on her clawed hands running down her arms. The warmth from the heart she held was fast fading. The world stood suspended around her, like a painting or a photograph, when she could remember what those were. She would make it in time, she was sure. This time would be different. The others hadn't been fresh enough, that was all.
She skidded around a corner road, making use of the concrete walls of the building she ran at a near ninety degree angle, before returning to the street. Blurring through the night market stalls which were packing up with the gaining light. Papers ripped out of a magazine stand, flying out and twisting in a dying cyclone. Cheetah pushed her legs faster, eyes locked on the hills in the distances. Mafdet's voice echoed inside her; “The Heart is an Offering.” Or was it her voice? The populated hills were fast approaching. Casting aside such thoughts, she leapt a car and dropped on to her arms and legs as she reached the slope. She tasted the heart in her mouth.
Above her the dim grey sky was becoming brighter. Almost. She could see the peak ahead of her. The largest houses of the richest people lived here. Her target was an Italian style villa of white marble. She had already prepared the altar. Diving over the large fence, she jumped straight for the roof; a flattened patio, containing a huge blue pool, and a large stone slab table. Her clawed feet scraped the white marble tiles. Tail swaying, she found her balance.
She set the heart on the altar. Lighting the myrrh incense, she started the chant. Her ancient words called: “<Ra, Glorious Father Sun, accept this offering, chased, hunted, and brought before you still warm- the heart of a serpent whose words were poison. Khepri, Great Scarab who moves the morning sun, receive this tribute of blood and flesh. I have come before to bring such gifts, though they may not be worthy, please grant an audience with me, that I may show my devotion and sit at your side once more...>” As she spoke, the sun rose above the horizon sending bright orange light into the sky. Cheetah closed her eyes to try and to will the connection she once felt in ages past. “<Immortal Creator, Ra, Mighty Ruler...>” she clenched her sharp teeth, “...please.” A cool wind brushed a tear from her eye down her golden furred cheek. Silence.
“I remember such prayers from long ago.”
The gravelled voice that spoke made Cheetah leap clear across the altar, dropping into an aggressive stance. Her feline eyes finally focused on a hazy shadow, which stepped into the morning light.
“<...You.>” Cheetah leaped at the Shadow-Woman, claws bared, but passed through into air. Spinning, she readied for another attack but the living-shadow had disappeared. Then she spied the altar. The blurred shadow figure held the heart in her hand, as if she was weighing, like a piece of fruit in the supermarket. Cheetah hissed and leaped again. “<THAT IS NOT FOR YOU!>” Before she had even reached the creature, it was gone. Turning, she tried to spot the thing again. “<What are you? A spy from Osiris? One of Bast's demon-spawn sent to torment me?>”
Suddenly the shadow was there. It tossed the heart to Cheetah, who caught it with a barely visible swipe. “You sound upset Barbara. Being a vessel for an ancient Deity not all you were promised?” Cheetah furiously attacked again, trying to move even faster, but the figure dissipated, leaving her alone once more. “Remember Barbara, I gave you a choice.” The blurry silhouette now stood atop the altar.
Cheetah snarled, “Why do you keep calling me that?”
The shadow turned. Its oversized head seemed to look out at Gateway City that sprawled out into the distance. “It was your name, it still is, somewhere in there. You may let Mafdet talk for you, move for you, even think for you, but you are still there.”
Cheetah hesitated. Tilting her head slightly, she tried to focus her eyes on the blurring figure, but the standing shadow seemed to slip in and out of existence. “Who are you?”
“You've asked me that before.”
Cheetah scowled, starting to circle the intruder. “Why are you here?”
“You've asked me that as well.”
Cheetah stopped. “The temple...” There was a tremble in her voice. She frowned, concentrating on an image inside her mind. It was faded, the colour drained from it. The kiss, the moment of joining, the colours and smells, she remembered that... Before that, being chased, running for her life, like she chased down those now. Prior to that... She clenched her teeth and gripped her head. Her mind swam with thousands of years of images, of being worshipped, sacrifices being brought before her, monsters, gods, and mortals. At the centre of her memories was a glowing orb, a disc that sat atop of her master's head, Ra. With all her effort she turned from the burning light, in a dark corner of her mind she saw it, a faded picture. A woman with greying hair smiled, holding two red-headed daughters in her arms. Cheetah reached out in her mind, taking the photograph in her hand, trying to figure out who they were... Suddenly, she choked back tears. “Mother, Janie.”
Opening her eyes, she found herself on her knees. To her right the Shadow Woman stood looking down at her. A dark hand offered her the bloodied heart. Cheetah took it, and then looked at her hand. Her nails were long, like claws, and blood ran down her fingers. She looked up at the blurred figure, “I remember, I...” She shut her eyes once more, growling. Standing, she turned to face the intruder. “<A fine trick demon-spawn, but the mortal gave her heart to me.>” She lifted the severed organ and took a bite of it, then continued, “<I ask once more; what you have come here for?>”
The Shadow Woman tilted her head. Her gravelly voice carried back an answer. “I have come with a warning. Another god approaches, one whose power has not faded with time, and whose influence may even affect you.” The shadowed figure disappeared and reappeared once more, now standing on the walled edging of the patio. “Run, hide, for at least a month. No point in succumbing to his madness...”
Cheetah looked the shadow-creature over, trying to decide her motivations. “<Why do you come to me with this?>”
“Some moments are more important than they seem.”
Cheetah took one last look at the morning sun. She dropped the heart at her feet. This was not her time, she was weak. Like most gods, she had lost a great deal of her power. Others may not have, this both disturbed her and made her hopeful. Some may have even grown. Her tail twitched. Perhaps the living shadow was correct. She turned and faced east. She would try another part of this ungodly country. A voice took her throat, she let the vessel speak. “Did I make the right choice?”
The Shadow Woman shrugged. Cheetah ran.
* * *
“You look lovely.”
Mike tried not to grin too hard, and failed. Diana sat down opposite him and gave a half smile back. She was wearing a red dress she had bought earlier that day with Etta's and Iris's help. The length of the skirt had been an issue of much contention between her two friends, and in the end Diana had split the difference. The shop assistant had been somewhat annoyed at a customer using a sword on her clothing, but Iris reassured that the dress would be paid in full, even if it was less material than normal. Iris had also managed to convince Diana to leave behind the leather armour, even with Etta's suggestion that Mike might be into it. Diana kept the boots though, and her wrist braces. She wore the necklace he had given her.
“You look good also.” Diana felt strange in such a restaurant. Everyone was well-dressed. Mike himself wore a black suit, complete with a blue tie. He looked as nervous as she felt, which made her feel better. Surrounding people seemed to be staring at her; maybe they recognised her from the television. She leaned forward. “Do they stare because of me as Super Hero?”
Mike shook his head gently. “Maybe but I think it's mainly because...” She widened her eyes, questioning him. “Well you look wonde... amazing.” She sat back, blushing. He changed the subject. “How was your first day a University?”
She laughed, “It was good. I was show grounds of College. I had two classes. Gender studies 1-oh-1 and the history of Second World War. You know not long ago, much of world fight great war?”
Mike nodded, “I had heard. Your English is improving.” She smiled at the compliment. He picked up the menu. “Are you hungry?” Diana nodded. “I don't know whether it's not kosher to take a Greek girl to an Italian restaurant, but I figured you must get Greek all the time where you are staying.”
As Diana tilted her head, the waiter arrived. “Would you two like a drink to start off?” the young waiter asked, passing out menus to both of them.
“Sure,” Mike looked to Diana. “Two wines?” She nodded. Mike confirmed, “Red, please, and one of those bread platter things...” The waiter nodded, noting it down as he left.
“What of your work?” Diana enquired. “There was news of many attack. You catch killer?”
He coughed. “No, no we haven't caught a lead yet.” He leaned forward. “It's a weird one, over the last couple of weeks there's been over a half a dozen of them, in each case female witnesses are left alive. It has to be someone with powers, the strength required to commit such an act is immense. Some invisible super strong bastard. They think it might be some mutant Cat-hybrid, like those girls you found in the Gang Brothel, but it just doesn't add up...” His eyes looked down at the nearby table as he thought. “...I mean why leave the woman?” He looked up at her and caught himself. “Sorry, crap, I just get sucked into my own thoughts sometimes. A little morbid for a date huh?”
“No.” She touched his hand. “Your mind like wheel turns on chariot that travel toward truth. That good.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Thanks... I think.”
“You may borrow my golden lasso if needs,” she offered, as the waiter returned with the bread platter and the wine.
Uncorking it he poured them each a glass. Diana grabbed a piece of bread and pushed it into her mouth. The waiter pointed to the menus, “Are you ready to order, or would you like some more time?”
“Uh...” Mike looked to Diana.
“Fiafth.” She chewed a little more and swallowed. “Fish.”
“Fish of the Day? And for you sir?”
“I'll have the Carbonara, thanks.” He handed the menus over. Mike lifted a glass, “To a memorable night.” Their glasses clinked. Looking over the wine, a quiet moment grew between them. “It's weird, one thing I noticed, there was wine at all the houses.” Thoughtfully Mike started to drink
Diana paused as she was about to take a sip. “Can I ask question of you? Do you wish to mate with me?”
Wine sprayed from Mike's mouth. Red-cheeked he wiped his mouth, his eyes darted around at the gazing spectators. “Uh... do you really... I mean, well. It's a bit more... there's a bit more to...” Suddenly a woman stood up two tables from them and screamed. A small part of Mike felt relieved. With the focus from him gone, he leaned forward. “If it's ok could we talk about it when we're alone?”
There was a crash. A table was knocked over as food was flung across the ground. Everyone stared at the still screaming woman who leapt on to her husband and started to grab at his limbs. People stood in shock at the first spurt of blood, and the man's screams joined those of his wife. A waiter ran to the aid of the man only to be knocked aside. Another two men quickly tried to pull them aside. A mad laughter preluded another attack as a nearby woman started to gauge at the eyes of a boyfriend. A table was flung across the room with ease by an elderly lady in pearl earrings wearing an expensive looking dress. To the horror of all watching, she tore the dress from her body and pounced like a leopard onto a nearby table. Her saggy, sinewy arms twisted a man's head, a wet cracking sound signifying his death.
“What the fuck is happening?” someone shouted.
Diana was upon her, holding the old lady's arms behind her to keep her controlled. With unnatural strength the lady kicked off the table, wrestling around and throwing the Amazon off. Diana landed on her feet and doubled back into attack, no longer holding back on the senior citizen. Mike dodged the flying plates and running people as he called for backup.
“Io, Io Iacchus!” one of the women chants. Spotting Mike her mouth widens in a huge grin, revealing her teeth, bloodied from the flesh of the man at her feet. She walks forward and lifts her hand to point at him. “Come, dance with us.” Diana's punch sends her soaring across the panicked crowd.
“You should go,” Diana suggests hastily. “We talk later,” she adds, before leaping back into combat. Mike watches for a moment whilst the otherworldly combat ensues, then grabs an injured man and drags him out.
