Daywalker's
feet pounded the hard surface of the hotel roof as he
ran across its long, rain-slicked surface. When he
reached its edge he did not even pause to plan his
leap - he simply allowed the toes of one foot to grip
the narrow grooves between the roof's tiles as his
other foot reached over the void; then he let go, and
allowed his body to sail gracefully through the air
to the next nearest rooftop. He landed without a
sound and continued running, barefoot and shirtless,
toward his destination.
For
almost two decades his world had been under a spell,
one which enshrouded the Earth in absolute darkness
and forced more than ninety percent of the planet's
population to live a half-life as a vampire. He knew
there were people out there who, like him, had
managed to survive the spell which transformed the
rest of the world; and although he had never met even
one of them, he dedicated his life to
defeating the Crimson Circle - the three "head
vampires" who maintained the spell - and making
the world bearable for everyone.
And he
was going to defeat them alone.
Sure,
in recent days Daywalker had made a number of
friends: Aleta, the light-bending Arcturan from the
31st century; Joseph, the remarkable mutant master of
magnetism; Ph-Eros, the most irritating person
Daywalker had ever encountered; The Mysterious
Stranger, an arrogant, aloof magician who was never
around when he was needed; Firefly, a kid who could
sprout wings from his back and shoot fire from his
fingertips...
... and
Scamp. Of all the Exiles, Scamp was the one with whom
he had developed the closest bond. She was the only
person he had ever truly considered a
friend, and the only person he had ever willingly
opened up to about his past. He suspected that he loved
her, and that was why he was going to fight
alone.
Stephen
Strange screamed in agony as the beautiful landscape
of the floating island twisted and contorted, forming
a rock-hard, air-tight coccoon around his body. He
could not breathe, and his scream excised the last
breath from his lungs. Soon, no sound passed his
lips, and the land which had registered in his brain
as pure nothingness moments earlier* suddenly became everything
to him - his whole, hellish, claustrophobic world.
[ * - last issue ]
His
mind was bombarded with images so rapidly that he
could not even comprehend a single one. For what felt
like years - but which the rapidly-dwindling logical
part of Stephen's brain knew was only seconds - he
remained trapped, unable to break free but not wanting
to, despite the torture.
It was
painful, it was terrifying, but it was also his
fondest desire.
Ph-Eros
woke up, looked out the window, and saw that it was
still dark.
He went
back to sleep.
Ph-Eros
awoke again, looked out the window, saw that it was
still dark... and remembered where he was: the evil,
vampire-ridden dimension that Daywalker so lovingly
called home. He rubbed his eyes and swung his legs
over the edge of his bed, yawned, and stood up. He
walked slowly to the room next door - the large,
electric-powered suite that Daywalker and Scamp had
occupied overnight - and found it empty.
He
walked, tired and groggy, through the rest of the
hotel's many rooms - and found that all but one was
empty. He began to panic and ran back to the only
occupied room in the hotel; the one shared by Aleta,
Joseph and Firefly.
"Guys!"
he shouted. "Wake up!"
Joseph's
eyes opened first, and the white-haired mutant leaped
out of bed and onto his feet. Aleta and Firefly took
a few more moments to stir, but as they became aware
of Ph-Eros' growing, terrified impatience they picked
themselves up and waited attentively.
"Scamp
and Daywalker are gone!"
"Are
you sure?" Aleta realised how stupid the
question sounded the second it passed her lips. Of course
he was sure, or he wouldn't have said it.
"Am
I sure?" Ph-Eros repeated. "Of
course I'm sure, or I wouldn't have said it!"
"Calm
down," Joseph said softly, his heavy Eastern
European accent more than making up for lack of force
behind his voice. "You've checked the entire
hotel?"
"Yes!"
"This
is Daywalker's home reality," Joseph reminded
them. "He and Scamp could be anywhere. We should
not necessarily be worried."
"Yes,
they could be anywhere, including being eaten alive
by blood-sucking demons!" Ph-Eros pointed out.
"Or
fighting the Crimson Circle alone," Aleta added.
She turned to Joseph. "You don't think - "
"It
wouldn't surprise me," Ph-Eros said. "He
seemed pretty keen on the whole loner tough-guy
shtick. We need to find them."
"How?"
Aleta asked.
"The
Mysterious Stranger may - no, we have lost him,
too," Joseph recalled.
"No,"
Aleta replied forcefully. "We didn't 'lose' him
- he walked out on us. Again."
"Either
way, we do not have him with us now, and despite our
powers enabling us to adequately combat the vampires,
we would not know where to begin our search for Scamp
and Daywalker," Joseph stated.
Daywalker
perched on a narrow ledge overlooking the entrance to
a skyscraper he knew only too well - although its
uppermost floors were cloaked in cloud-cover, he knew
that they were home to the surviving members of the
Crimson Circle. So confident were they in their power
that they posted only one guard at the entrance to
their building. Daywalker knew he could defeat the
one guard easily enough, but what then?
He
decided that he would worry about that later. He
leaped down onto the hard ground and charged the
guard, who reacted slowly - much more slowly than any
vampire Daywalker had previously encountered. As the
vampire turned, Daywalker tightly gripped his single
wooden stake and drove it hard through the vampire's
back; it pierced the monster's heart and emerged,
jagged and caked with thick red blood, through its
chest. He pulled the stake back through the wound and
ran quickly through the building's doors.
Inside,
he encountered no resistance. Not a single vampire
could be seen as he raced up the tower's central
stairwell, moving rapidly past dozens of floors on
his way to the top. He was tired, exhausted, but not
at all paranoid. He knew the lack of resistance meant
one of two things: that the Crimson Circle was so
conceited, so hideously arrogant that they could not
bear the presence of lesser vampires in their home;
or, more likely, he was walking into a trap. He did
not care. One way or another, today was going to be
his last encounter with the Circle.
Finally,
he stepped onto the building's top floor and saw,
surrounding a large, red, throbbing machine, the
three surviving members of the Crimson Circle. They
watched him, but did not otherwise react to his
arrival. He walked slowly towards them, and stopped a
few feet away from the machine.
"Welcome,
Richard," the Scarlet Witch said. "You
know, of course, that we've been expecting you. There
was no way you could resist coming for us once you
destroyed Bloodstorm. But really, did you not stop to
think it was impolite to bring along an uninvited
guest?"
"What
are you talking about?" Daywalker asked.
The
Scarlet Witch stepped aside to reveal Scamp hanging
from the ceiling via wrist shackles. Her face was
bruised but, as always, her dark sunglasses remained
solidly attached. She slowly turned her head and
tried to look up at Daywalker, but the effort was too
great.
"Scamp!
But how... ? The hotel - ?"
"It
followed you," the Scarlet Witch explained,
"and I must say, Le Diable Blanc certainly
enjoyed her capture."
Daywalker
turned his head slightly and saw Le Diable Blanc, the
pale-skinned, red-eyed, brown trenchcoat-wearing man
who once went by the name Remy LeBeau, licking his
lips.
"You
didn't...!" Daywalker began.
"Yes,
he did," the Scarlet Witch replied. "She's
one of us now, Daywalker. You shouldn't have gone and
made a friend, should you? Because now, if you
destroy us, destroy our plans? You destroy her, too."
The
Mysterious Stranger groaned as the only world he knew
for his seconds of eternity began to break away and
the smooth coolness of his floating island paradise
re-appeared around him. The beautiful woman in white
robes touched his naked body again and his physical
pain immediately vanished.
His
head, however, was a different story. He could make
no sense of the images constantly rushing past his
mind's eye, images that were far beyond his power to
recognise. He staggered to his feet and, with what he
thought was the last of his strength, managed an
ancient, arcane gesture that caused his body to be
bathed in a shimmering blue glow, to disappear, and
re-appear within the safe confines of the hotel
occupied by most of the other Exiles.
Ph-Eros
was the first to notice the fading blue glow as
Stephen Strange materialised in the hallway just
beyond the room in which he stood. He alerted the
others, and they rushed to fight Strange slowly
transforming from the tall, fair-skinned Stephen
Strange into the green-skinned, reptillian Doc
Savage.
"Doctor!"
Aleta cried. "What's happened to - ?"
"Forget
about that!" Ph-Eros interrupted. He rushed
forward, placed his hand on the doctor's body and
whispered quietly, so no-one else could overhear. The
doctor's transformation stopped, he returned to his
normal body, and slowly extended one, shaking hand
toward the gather Exiles. They were all bathed in the
same blue glow they had encountered several times
over the past few days and felt their bodies slowly
fading away, only to re-appear abruptly behind
Daywalker.
Aleta
and Firefly staggered as they tried to get used to
the aftereffects of teleportation, but Ph-Eros and
Joseph seemed unaffected by the experience. Ph-Eros
ran straight to Daywalker's side and saw the Crimson
Circle and the captive Scamp, while Joseph discreetly
ducked into the shadows to make sense of what was
taking place.
Gambit!
Joseph recognised Le Diable Blanc by another
name. He's an X-Man. What could possibly-
Skkrtch.
He
paused. He had heard a sound, like the scraping of
metal on stone. He waited to see if he heard it
again, but for a long time, there was no sound at
all. Then, suddenly, from out of the darkness leapt a
black beast with glowing, golden eyes, carrying a
sword.
"Nachtgleiskette!"
the Scarlet Witch shouted. "Down!"
The
creature - Nachtgleiskette - paused mid-leap. As he
fell toward the ground his body was transformed into
a puff of black smoke, accompanied by the smell of
sulfur, which quickly vanished and re-appeared at the
side of the Scarlet Witch.
"Nightcrawler!"
Joseph cried. "Two X-Men!"
The
Scarlet Witch smiled. "And I'm your daughter. Or
at least the daughter of this dimension's
Magneto."
Another
person to call me Magneto, Joseph thought.
"Yes,
Exiles. I know your secrets. Just as I know that
Daywalker has a decision to make."
Not
much longer, Joseph decided privately. He slowly
moved his fingers, and the metal shackles holding
Scamp's wrists opened, dropping her body to the
ground. She scrambled slowly across the floor to her
fellow Exiles, without any opposition from the
Crimson Circle.
"Have
her back," the Scarlet Witch said. "For all
the good it will do. She's one of us, now."
Joseph
looked down at the girl's neck and saw two puncture
marks, just below her chin. Aleta, Firefly and
Ph-Eros also rushed to examine her - so no-one
noticed as Strange's body began, once again, to shift
and change into the larger form of Doc Savage.
"What
will it be, Richard?" the Scarlet Witch asked.
"You destroy the machine, you destroy me - and,
in turn, all of the other vampires on this world.
Including your friend."
"Of
course I won't destroy it," Daywalker said, as
Doc Savage lumbered up behind him. "Or you.
You've won."
The
Scarlet Witch smiled. "We could have crushed you
with sheer weight of numbers, of course. But it was
far more satisfying to see you surr - what? NO!"
Doc
Savage charged forward, heading straight from the
Scarlet Witch, not caring who - or what - was in his
path. Especially not the fragile, red machine that
was the only thing standing between him and his
target.
Ph-Eros
was quick on his feet, but even as his hand brushed
the Doctor's back and he whispered his secret words,
nothing happened. Daywalker realised what was going
to happen and tried to move between the behemoth and
the machine - but even his strength was not
enough to stop the oncoming beast. Doc Savage's
raging fists pushed through Daywalker as if he was
nothing; and Daywalker's body - no, his corpse -
struck the machine with the full fury of Doc Savage's
massive strength.
The
machine buckled as the familar blue energy descended
to surround the Exiles - the living Exiles,
at least. As they faded from view, the machine split
apart, its cogs and gears and mystic bindings
scattering throughout the building.
The
Crimson Circle members gagged and strained against
the mystic forces that bombarded them from within.
They were not, after all, true vampires;
their state was created by Rhean's mystical means, a
sort of artificial, magickal replica of vampirism.
Without the machine to maintain the spell, the
ravages of a life half-lived rapidly destroyed their
bodies, bodies which, had the spell never been cast,
could never have survived on blood alone.
They
did not fade to dust, but collapsed to the ground,
broken wrecks, their bodies nearly unrecognisable,
dead beside Daywalker. At least, two of them
did - Nachtgleiskette's body was gone entirely.
NEXT ISSUE: Atlantis
attacks!
