One Universe: Independents Edition Season 1 IC Thread

Sherlock Holmes



Previously



St. Bartholomew's Hospital


The elevator dings open and John and I walk into the basement morgue.

"Ahh, Barts. Seems to be ages ago that I was here as a bright, young thing. Of course you probably already know I studied here."

"Finished somewhere in the middle of your class. Tell me, am I hot or cold?"

Before John can respond, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and look at the text on my screen.



SH,

Do you get Spanish
TV in England?
Check your local listings
Yours truly is on the "telly"

SS



I sigh and start pounding out a response.

"News from Scotland Yard?"

"No, worse. An imitator.


SS,

Working a case that matters
Leave me alone or I email Lassie
Tell him the truth


P.S.
Look at television crew
Murderer is one of them

SH



I send the message and tuck the phone back into my coat pocket. John and I walk into the morgue where the body of the dead man is laid out. Sergeant Jones managed to find the man's identity out soon after we left Battersea.

Detective Sergeant James Morstan, a fifty-seven year old man, ten years retired from the force with a long and storied career with the Met.

"I might be awhile, looking over the body. Maybe you could find out more about Morstan? His family, partners on the force, who he worked for as a security guard, and especially who he put in jail. A man isn't a copper for twenty-seven years without making a few enemies."

John nods and turns to leave while I put on a pair of latex gloves and begin to examine the body again, this time using a syringe to pull out a blood sample to use for toxicology.

With his clothes off and underneath the harsh white light of the morgue, I see the full extent of Morstan's injuries. His body is bruised all over, lumps and welts forming from his thighs up to his shoulder blades. All of them appear to be premortem. I run my hands up Morstan's side and feel several broken and fractured ribs. He was beaten severely, but not in the face or head.

Why?

"They wanted you conscious, didn't they?" I say aloud to the body. "They either wanted you to feel it to the very end...or.....Yes.....that's it!"

I quickly pull my phone out and type frantically, navigating through the internet to the site I need. I memorize the information and call Sergeant Jones.

"Please tell me you have news."

"Find out about Marston's past with organized crime and gangs. Did he work in any special units or work any investigations."

"Why? What are you thinking?"

"He was beaten for information. Someone or something from his past came back to haunt him. These people had major pull, too. They brought in a specialist from Eastern Europe. The Golem."

"Are you talking about the bloody Lord of the Rings character?"

"What? No. The Golem. You're the police, look it up."

"And he tortured Marston for information about what?"


"That's what we need to find out. We'll find that out as soon as we can find Marston's partners. They're tied into this some kind of way."

I look over at the evidence bags on the adjacent table. Along with Marston's clothes, there's the note that was pinned to his body.

"We only have three more chances to catch our killer."


Crouch End


The cab pulls to the side of the road and I pay the cabbie before hopping out on the sidewalk where John is waiting.

"Have you talked to her yet?"

"Just a bit. I don't think she'll be of much help, Sherlock. She hasn't spoken to her father in years."

"That's what she says."

I enter the house with Watson behind me. A blonde haired woman is waiting for us. John elbows past me and meets the woman in the house's front room.

"Here's my associate. Mary, this is Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock, this is Mary Morstan."

I look at her, and then John, reading his body language and the way he's wringing his wrist and breathing a little heavier than usual.

"Right," I say with a smirk. "Miss Morstan, do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"What? I.....I suppose so. Second door on your left."

I nod and walk through the house to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me and scan the room for a few seconds before exiting it and heading back into the front room. I take a quick look around, looking at all the pictures hanging up.

"Thank you. I think that's all the questions I have. We'll be in touch. Come on, John."

Both her and Watson give me confused looks.

"But..er..."

"Yes, let's go."

I put my hand on John's shoulder and lead him out of the house.

"Goodbye, I suppose," he says as I shut the door behind him and walk to the edge of the sidewalk to catch a cab.

"The bloody hell was that about?" He asks once he catches up.

"She was telling the truth. She hadn't spoken to her father in years."

"Oh, and you figured that out by having a look around her loo?"

"Don't be ridiculous. What did you see in her front room?"

"Pictures of family. So what?"

"Pictures of her mother. None of her father and none of them together. What do we know about Morstan other than the fact he was a copper? He was divorced. Mary lived her mother and rarely saw her father."

"And what about using the loo?"

"I did that for your sake. The house's decorations had a female touch, but there wasn't a trace that a man lived there. I went into the bathroom and found two toothbrushes. One hadn't been used for at least a week. She was in a relationship that was semi-serious and now she's out of it. So the coast is clear."

John scowls. "Clear for what exactly?"

I look at John and scoff. "Please."

My phone vibrates and I pull it out, reading the text on the screen.

"We need to get across town. There's been another murder."
 
Indiana Jones
Director of the B.P.R.D.

The damp, wet air slams against me as another gale of sea wind rips across the tiny island of Tarmagant. It was here all those decades ago that a special forces group, Professor Bruttenholm, and I stopped Grigori Rasputin from unleashing some unknown horror on the world. And now I'm driven back here by the mere memory of him.

He's the one in my dreams. The dark man with the red eyes, laughing and mocking me from the shadows. I know it's him, and that became even more apparent after the dream where this very island flashed into my mind. I don't know if someone's sending me a warning or right into a trap, but I need to find out.

The island has been kept deserted and sealed off from the public by the British government, so I don't have to worry about Abe being spotted. I turn to him, "Abe, check out the surrounding waters. Let me know if you find anything out of the ordinary."

"Very well," he responds with a slight nod and dives into the rough waters. Anyone else would be dashed against the rocky shore, but Abe is most likely the best swimmer on the planet.

"And what about us?" Kate asks, motioning towards the rest of the human team.

"Just look around. Try to find anything that's odd or looks like it shouldn't be here," I respond as I begin wandering around the rock. As I do memories start flooding back of that fateful night. I pass the church where we found Hellboy, as well as a barricade behind which a friend of mine took a bullet through the skull right next to me.

A call from Kate rouses me from my reminiscing and I run straight back towards the sound of her voice. As I reach her, the sight that greets me is a shock. There, carved into one of the rocky outcroppings is a large sculpture of a group of dragon heads surrounding a great stone door.

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"What the hell is this?" I ask no one in particular. "This wasn't here before..."

"Maybe some free form artist decided to do it?" Kate asks.

"Impossible, this place has been under heavy supervision," I respond, running my hands over the door. "If this was done by a person or even a group of people, the authorities would have known..."

My hand hits something loose on the door and I press it in, and in a cloud of dust, the door slides back, revealing the cavernous walkway within. I turn to Kate with a big smile on my face, "It's a temple."

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"You have no idea. It's been too long since I've nearly died from a booby trap. Ready for this?"

"Oh no, I'm not going in there. You've told me the stories."

"Well now you get to be in one of them," I reply while taking out a flashlight and stepping into the darkness.

**********

Abe Sapien swims quietly and gracefully through the sea. The water is cold and rough here, but he loves the feel of it. So much more free than the tank which he calls his home.

So far he's seen nothing that could be called odd, but he continues to look anyway. Something has Indiana Jones spooked, and that means trouble for everyone. In the years that Abe has known him, he has never been this nervous or cautious about anything.

Suddenly, a flurry of motion behind him draws Abe's attention, and before he can react, something heavy slams into his back, knocking him out and leaving him defensless.
 
TMNT-Leoeyes.jpg


The door to our sewer home slides open, and I stride in with the reporter in my arms, and place her on the sofa. My brothers and Master Splinter stare at me with confusion, though a look of understanding crosses the master's face as well.

"Whoa...she's even more of a babe up close," Mikey giggles.

"Gee, Leo. I didn't know we were redecorating," Raphael jokes. "All we need are a couple throw pillows to go with our TV news reporter."

"Enough, Raphael," I respond annoyed. "I needed to get her out of there. If the cops hadn't gotten to her the other thugs may have. I couldn't have taken that chance."

"Is that so?" Raph says getting to his feet. "Or is it that you want a contact in the outside world so you decided this was your best chance."

"Enough, both of you," Master Splinter interjects quietly. His voice has always had such a sway on the four of us. No matter what he says, we'll always stop to listen. "Leonardo it was very dangerous for you to bring her here, although I do understand why you did it." He stoops down to check on her, and finds a nice gash on her head, "Get a warm wash cloth, Donatello. This must be cleansed."

Splinter goes to work fixing her wound, and after a few moments, the groggy woman begins to come through. That is, until she gets a look at all of us, at which point she promptly faints.

"Well...that could have gone better."
 

"hehehehe"


"You scared the crap out of me!"

"That's cause you're outta practice," I say. Suddenly Sammy kicks his leg around my head, slaps my arm from his throat, and spins us over, pinning me down.

"Heh. Or not. Now get off me."

Sam gets off and grabs my hand to pull me up. "What are you doing here?"

I slap Sammy on the arms, sizing him up. He's grown. "I was looking for a beer."

"What. The. Hell. Are you doing here?"

"Ok, we need to talk."

"Uh...the phone?"

"If I had called, would you have picked up?"

Suddenly, the lights flip on.
9a0ju9.jpg

"Sam?"

Well helloooo nurse.

"Uh, Jess. Hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend Jessica."

"Wait, you mean your brother Dean?"

"I love the smurfs." She looks down at her shirt, then gives me a mildly amused look, and I can sense without even glancing at him that Sammy's ready to knock me down again. "I've gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother's league."

"Just let me put something on."

"No, no, no. I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously." Jess looks at Sammy who just rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I need to borrow your boyfriend here. We've got some family business, but...nice meeting you."

"No."

No?

Sammy walks over and stand next to Jessica. "No, whatever you've gotta say, you can say it in front of her."

So he's finally started to wear the big boy pants, eh? "Ok. Um...dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sammy harrumphs. "So he's working overtime on a Miller time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

I look down with a shake of my head, then look up and make sure he knows I'm serious. "Dad's been on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."

And now Sammy finally gets it. "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

I give Sammy a minute to through a hoodie and jacket on. Jess follows him in the bedroom, which is a shame. I sure felt my fondness for the Smurfs growing...

Once he's out, he follow me outside of the apartment and down the stairs. "Dean, you can't just come here in the middle of the night and break into my place."

Here we go.

"Dad is missing, Sammy. I need your help."


"Remember that poltergeist in Amherst? Or the devils gates in Clifton? He was missing then too. He's always missing, and he's always fine."

"Yeah, but dad's never been off the grid for this long." We finally reach the bottom of the stairs, and I turn to face him. "You coming with, or not?"

"Not."

"Why the hell not?!"
Sammy just rolls his eyes.

"Come on. I know it wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad."


"Oh yeah, sure. When I told dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45."

"Well, what was he supposed to do? He knew we had to protect ourselves."

"I was nine years old! He was supposed to say 'Don't be afraid of the dark'."

"Don't be afraid of the dark?! Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."


"Yeah, yeah. I know. But the way we grew up after mom was killed. Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her. But we still haven't found whatever it is, so we kill everything we do find."

"And we saved a lot of good people."

"You think mom wanted this for us? Weapons training. Melting silver into bullets. We were raised like warriors."

"I was there. So what're you gonna do? Live some normal, apple-pie life?"

"Not normal. Safe. I was just going to college. It was dad that said if I was going, I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing." Sammy stares at me with a damned self-satisfying expression on his face, but I just look around in frustration

"Well, dad's in real trouble. I can feel it. If he's not dead already. And I can't do it alone."


"Yes you can."

"...well, maybe I don't want to."

Sammy sighs. "...What was he hunting?"
 
Houstus turned his head around as he loaded up another rotting body onto the bed of his pickup.

“God damn it! It’s that blasted Goon!”

“And Franky!”

“Git ‘im, boys!” Houstus hollered.

His two scrawny sons dropped the corpses they carried and lunged at us, screechin’ like the stinkin’ monkeys they are. Franky whips out his revolver and fires at one of ‘em. It leaps up over the bullet and pounces on him. I rush over to help , but the other one hops onto my shoulders and starts clawin’ at my face.

“AAARGH!”

I rip the thing off me and hurl ‘em to the dirt. While he’s down, I try to plant a fist on ‘em, but he just rolls outta the way.

“GOOOON! HELP” Franky shouts as he swings at the freak what’s clawin’ at him. Again, I rush over to him. Thing number two jumps at me again, but I swat it outta the air with a backhand. I tear the other freak off Franky and lift him up by his collar. It kicks and claws at the air, tryin’ to get free, but then goes out cold after I clock ‘em in the face with my mitts.

chick-chick
BLAM!

The ground explodes around me. I drop the limp freak and shield myself as dirt flies up in my eyes.

“Git yer brother so we can get the hell outta here!” Houstus screams, shotgun in hand. The monkey boy lets out a squeal and scurries over to his unconscious brother. He lifts him over his should and run towards his Pa. I almost chase after ‘em, before remembering Houstus has got a shotgun pointed at me. The boys climb into the pickup bed as Houstus makes a break for the driver’s seat.

Franky scrambles for his gun and springs to his feet. He fires at the truck as it pulls off, destroying one of the windows and nearly blasting one of the goblin-kids in the brain. In retaliation, the ugly little mutant starts hurlin’ decayin’, severed limbs at us from outta the bed as the truck drives off into the night.

“Damn. That’s a fresh batch of zombies for that stinkin’ Priest.”

I sigh and head back towards the De Ville.

“C’mon, let’s head home. This day ain’t gettin’ any better.”




“Ugh…” I sigh, fallin’ ass-first onto my bed. I pull take off my cap and wipe the sweat from my forehead.

“You alright, big guy?” Franky asks, tossing me a brew. I pop off the cap with my thumb and take a long swig.

“No crummier than usual. Just not lookin’ forward to havin’ to clobber another wave of slackjaws.”

“Ah, we’ll get ‘em next time, buddy. Besides, if we hadn’ta shown up, they would have made off with twice as many bone bags, right?”

“Ehhh…I ‘spose.”

I bring the bottle to my mouth, tilt my head back, and kill the sucker. I toss the empty bottle aside and hear a loud SMASH as it busts against the wall.

“We gotta go collectin’ tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know. Who we hittin’ first?”

“Bozo Mcgillicutty. Hasn’t paid up in a good month. I’m thinkin’ about breakin’ his legs. I ain't broken his legs yet.”




* * *



“Confound that ‘dern, Goon! Next time, I’ma blast that ugly face of his off!” Houstus shouts as he races his truck down Lonely Street.

“EEEEKRR! PHAGUH B’GNAUH!” his grotesque son gurgles beside him, having awoken on the ride back.

“What the hell ya mean you almost had ‘em? I was watchin’ the whole damn fight! You and yer brother woulda been pounded inta paste if I hadn’t a whipped out yer grand daddy’s boom stick!”

“ZEP’HA FLREGHWA…”

“Not to mention you heruined a lot of the merchandise! Tearin’ off their limbs and chuckin’ ‘em at the Goon…the hell was he thinkin’?!”

“BYAA DREH…”

“Our shipments are comin’ back lighter and lighter every time! We dig up hardly a dozen corpses, half of ‘em unusable thanks to yer brother…oh, boy, that Priest is gonna tan our hides for su—“

THUD!

The entire car seems to bounce for a moment.

“What in tarnation was that?!” Houstus cries out. He checks the rearview mirror to see his other son in the bed of the truck, wrestling with some shadowy figure. Houstus slams on the breaks, sending the truck to a screeching halt. The sudden stop flings the two off the bed. The twisted grave digger fumbles for his shotgun and jumps out of the car with his other son in tow. Houstus ***** his rifle and takes aim at the shadowy figure, now climbing to its feet. Beside it lays his Houstus’s son, groggy and squirming, along with four or five corpses that had tumbled off of the truck.

“Yer a persistent bastard, Goon! I’ll—“

Before Houstus could finish, the figure steps forward, coming under the glow of a streetlight. It was what appeared to be a withered old man with pale, incredibly wrinkled skin. His impossibly thin, bony hands and wrists poked out of his long, tattered black cloak. He stood with a hunch and had a large, hooked, almost beak-like nose and on his head was a black, wide-brimmed hat with long wisps of white, wiry hair dangling from underneath it.

And then, there was his eyes—enormous and glowing a ghastly white, completely devoid of any irises or pupils. He was holding something in his hand—something long, like a club. But when he raised the “club” up into the light and towards his mouth, Houstus could see quite clearly that it was a severed arm belonging to one of the corpses.

The old man sunk his teeth into the rotting flesh and tore a chunk clean off the bone. As he chewed it up and swallowed, Houstus wasted no time in firing at the ghoul. The blast hit the old man in the chest, hurling him on his back, forcing him to drop his meal. To Houstus’s horror, the creature sprung back onto its feet and with lightning-quick speed, drew a revolver from under his cloak and fired. The bullet went through Houstus’s shoulder, causing the hideous farmer to holler in pain.

“INTO THE CAR!!!” he screamed as ran back towards the truck. One son jumped into the cab while the other sprinted on all fours like a dog before leaping onto the bed.

[BLACKOUT]“YOU TELL THAT PREACHER I’M COMIN’ FOR HIM!!!”[/BLACKOUT] the ghoul screamed as the truck peeled away. After the car had disappeared into the night, the old man made his way to the corpses scattered about the street and resumed his meal.
 
TMNT-Leoeyes.jpg


"Who are you?" the reporters weakened voice comes from behind the five of us as we huddle around our kitchen table eating. I turn to find her peering over the back of the couch at us. "Why have you brought me here?"

"Miss O'Neil," Splinter says standing, "we are not going to hurt you. My son Leonardo rescued you from the thugs that had taken you and your partner captive."

Her eyes widen as she remembers her partner, "Oh crap...is he okay?"

"He got picked up by an ambulance," Raph nods. "I made sure of that. He seemed pretty beat up, but I think he'll be fine."

She scans us again with wide eyes. I can imagine the thoughts running through her head as she looks at us. We're freaks. We know that. Hell, we've always known that. But seeing someone we've helped actually surveying us is odd.

"What are you?"

"Allow me to explain the reason for our existence," Master Splinter says, getting off his chair and sitting cross legged on the floor in front of her. We four take seats on the couches and chairs in the living area. "Seventeen years ago is where our stories begin. It was then that I was brought to America by my master, Hamato Yoshi. He and his new wife, Shin, fled to America after Yoshi fought and killed the leader of his ninja clan over Shin's hand. This man's name was Oroku Nagi, and the clan's name was the Foot. Unfortunately for my master, Nagi's brother Saki tracked him to New York, and killed Shin, before engaging my master in combat. When the contest seemed to come to a draw, Saki detonated a small explosive, sending me flying through a window and into the streets below, where I swore I would get vengeance on the man that killed my master."

"But if the apartment blew up, wouldn't he be killed as well?" April O'Neil asks, confused.

"You would have thought so," Splinter nods. "But Saki is more demon then man. I saw someone escape through the window that night, laughing maniacally and covered in burns. Saki survived, and still haunts the world. I am sure of it." Splinter continues, "I then wandered the sewers of New York for a year, before I found four baby turtles wading through a green glowing liquid. I gathered them up and came in contact with the ooze as well, and before long, all of us began to grow in both intellect and size. Once the children were old enough, I began training them in the martial arts and ninjitsu in order to fight evil, and eventually take revenge on Saki. And before long, I gave them names from a book I found on the Renaissance."

"Raphael, the strongest and most fearsome of the four."

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"Michelangelo, the youngest, and most fun loving."

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"Donatello, the most intellectual."

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"And Leonardo, their leader, and the one that saved you tonight."

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"Hey I helped!" Raph says with a mischievous grin.

"And you four are the ones that have been fighting crime this whole time..." she smiles, obviously amazed.

"You betcha," Mickey says. "It's what we do best."

"Amazing... I wish I could do an interview."

"You can do us one better," I respond heading to the computer and pulling up a picture of the Purple Dragon tattoo. "You can find out what this is, and why it's been showing up on perps all across the city. We'd do it, but we can't really walk into a police station, can we?"

"You want me to be your eyes and ears on the outside world?" she asks. She already knows the answer, but she wants to hear it from us. I can tell she's ambitious and wants to make a name for herself. And what better way to do that tan helping a bunch of crime fighters.

"Yes," I nod. "That's exactly what I want. Can you do it?"

"Of course," she smiles more broadly. "Just get me home and I'll get right on it."
 
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Indiana Jones
Director of the B.P.R.D.

Kate and I move through the entrance hall to the temple slowly, the only illumination coming from the flashlights in our hands. The stale, musty air of the place fills my lungs like a drug, and I can't deny that I'm getting a high off of it. It's been decades since I was in a place like this, and even the "archeologists" of today use computers and satellites to do the dirty work. I turn to Kate, "Don't touch anything." I take a few more steps and spin around, "And don't lean against the walls. i had a bad experience with that one time."

After traveling a bit further down the hall, I notice a slight sound coming from the wall. I go over to it, and before pressing my ear to it, scan for any obvious traps. As I listen, I say, "Put your ear up against the wall and take a listen."

"I thought I wasn't supposed to touch anything," Kate responds, deadpan, before doing so. "Sounds like there's water running behind the walls."

"That's exactly what it is," I respond with a nonchalant smile. "Meaning if we spring a trap in here, we're probably going to drown."

We proceed further, through a few meandering hallways before coming to an area with two pathways. I pace around a little bit before picking a way to go. Something that Corrigan obviously doesn't like, "You're kidding me, right? You're just guessing on which way to go?"

"Not really," I respond without turning around. "There's no flowing water on the other side. Whereas this side it seems to get stronger."

We follow my choice of routes until it opens up into a larger chamber. I take a few battery powered LED light strips out and toss them around the room, and the sight that greets me almost takes me back. Staring back at us is a huge sculpted head that looks like a cross between a crocodile, Medusa, and a really, really ugly dog.

"You ever see anything like this before?" I ask Kate. She's the Bureau's expert on the occult. Sometimes it's spooky how much she knows. But if anyone has seen this idol before, it's her.

Unfortunately, she shakes her head, "Nope. I mean it has traces of Pagan, Greek, and even Medieval. But no, I've never seen this exact thing. Mind if I take a few pictures?"

"No go ahead," I respond as I begin searching the room. "I need to find out where we go from here, anyway."

The room is a vast rectangle, the highest side above us, out of reach from even the LEDs I put down. In front of the head is an altar, seemingly for sacrifice, but there's no bodies or blood, or any sign of the alter having ever been used.

Leaving that for a moment, I inspect the large stone head and the walls around it, and find that the rushing water seems to flow directly into the head. Meaning there's nothing behind it. Meaning...

The realization hits me too late. I spin as Kate goes to place the camera on the altar to get a picture with me in the frame for scale. As the device hits the cold stone, the floor below us slides from out beneath us, and a torrent of water springs from the now open mouth of the statue, flinging us quickly down a slide. Sea water explodes into my lunges, and I fight to keep my head above water, as Kate does the same next to me.

We spiral down into the darkness, and before long I can hear the water in front of us falling into a chasm, and a light at the end of the tunnel. Once we get closer, I see our fate: A chasm where the water tumbles, and a small platform with a torch on the other side.

As I secure my whip from my belt, I call to Kate, "Get over here and hold on!"

A second later, we fly into nothingness, and the crack of my whip rings out over the din of the rushing water. The end manages to catch the torch holder on the platform. Unfortunately, that sends us careening into the rockwall on the other side of the chasm, and Kate loses her grip. I fling my hand out, and barely manage to catch her.

"Jones," she says as I pull her up to the whip, "remind me to never come temple diving with you again."

We climb to the top, and find the torch to be illuminating yet another carved stone representation that was in the other chamber, this one with its mouth open. I take the torch and walk through a small hallway, into the biggest chamber yet.

A faint blue glow illuminates this one, and I find great, stone pillars lining the hall, leading to another statue. They seem to have some sort of glowing lichen on them, which gives the room its glow. The statue seems to be the same jumble of dragon heads and necks from the entrance, though they all curl around and are looking at an altar, looking ready to strike at whatever is on it.

And what's currently on it draws my attention. I rush towards it, to find a weakened Abe Sapien lying on it. When he sees us, he smiles, "Took you long enough. Do you have a knife?"

I nod and detach the large hunting knife I keep on my belt. Abe digs it into a wound on his arm, then leg, then chest, and digs out what seem to be pieces of the lichen.

"I think they're eggs," he groans in pain. "The beast only had hold of me for a few minutes, and managed to lay three. Oh don't look like that," he responds at my face. "It laid them through it's tongue. Not anything else."

"Sure, sure it wasn't," I nod. "But uhhh...what is it?"

"Indy," Kate says from behind me. "Turn around."

I do so, and find one of the stone faces staring back at me. But this time, it's real. the thing is the size of a gorilla, but a hell of a lot scarier. Its tongue slides around its sharp teeth and its four eyes stare at us, unblinking.

Sammael.jpg


"Crap," is all I can mutter as it charges at us, and I barely get the three of us out of the way. "Abe, you see any way out of this?"

"There seems to be another passageway over there," he says pointing.

I don't even bother responding, instead, I begin running with Kate behind me and Abe over my shoulder. Luckily he's light, or we'd be in pretty big trouble. As I run, I unholster my pistol and fire blindly at the creature pursuing us.

Halfway down the hallway, I transfer Abe so he can lean on Kate, "Go. I'll try and hold him off."

The two of them disappear into the darkness, and I turn to face put pursuer. I must have hit him, because it takes a few seconds for me to hear him. I unload a clip into the hallway, and quickly reload. Unfortunately, the damn thing is smarter than I am.

It gallops along the ceiling towards me, as I fire at it. A few bullets strike its shoulders, but it barely slows it down. Once it's in striking distance, the beast opens its mouth and the long tongue shoots out towards me. Whether it's luck or reflexes, I manage to fire a shot straight through the tongue, and the beast falls to the stone ground with a whimper, and I put a few more shots into its head.

I reach Kate and Abe, who are standing on a stone plate that has water gushing from underneath it. I smile and herd them to the center of the platform, "Hold on, and stay away from the walls."

I kick away a stone block, and instantly we speed up towards the entrance of the temple. I laugh as the water pressure elevator sends us to the surface. But once we're there, Kate looks worried, "What the hell was that? And did you see how many eggs were down there?"

"It doesn't matter now," I responds, heading for our base camp and the rest of the team. "Momma's dead now. No one to hunt for the young. Problem solved. Let's go home."

**********

Down below, in the elevator chamber, Sammael the hell hound's body decomposes within minutes, and a ball of green smoke emerges from the remains and breaks into two. The two wisps float back to the main chamber and find two eggs, from which bursts two new hell hounds, hungry and violent.
 
I pop the trunk to the Impala. Then I lift the fake bottom and prop it up, exposing all the compartments that hold the tools hunters use to fight the supernatural creepy-crawlers. Salt, cold iron, special types of woods, various elixers and concoctions. And Guns.

A ****load of guns.

"Where the hell did I put it?" I start digging around while Sammy leans over the side of the trunk.

"So while dad was out hunting, where were you?"

"I was working my own gig. A voodoo thing down in New Orleans."

"Dad let you out on a hunt by yourself?"

I give Sammy a look. "I'm twenty-six, dude."

I finally find the folder. "Here we go. Dad was checking out this two lane blacktop just outside Jericho, California." I pull out some news clippings and start handing them to Sammy.

"About a month ago, this guy. They found his car, but he completely vanished. MIA."

"So maybe he were kidnapped."

"Yeah, well, here's another one. In April. March. '08. '05, '04, '03, '88. Ten over the last twenty years. All men. All over the same stretch of five miles of road. Started happening more and more, so dad went to dig around. That was about three weeks ago."

"Haven't heard from him since?"

"Which is bad enough. Then I get this voice mail yesterday." I pull out a handheld recorder and play it back.

Through the static and popping comes dad's voice. "Dean...Something big is starting to happen. I...think it's...serious...I need...to try and figure it out...I may need to keep...looking. Be very care...ful, Dean. We're all...in danger."

I stop the recording. "You know there's EVP on that?"

I give Sammy a smirk. "Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?"

"Alright, I slowed the message down and ran it through one of those free sound programs. Check out what I got..."

I skip to the next section and hit play. The pop and clicks are a lot slower. But, in a woman's voice, only slightly above a whisper-

"...I can never go home..."
 
"SAM!!!. This way! This way!"

Al waves his arm in the direction of an alleyway like a third base coach telling a base-runner to head home.

I turn the corner like he says, the wall behind me exploding from a couple of bullets as I run.

"GOGOGO!!!"

Don't have to tell me twice.

I run as fast as I can, and see Al ahead of me again. "In here! The door's unlocked."

I burst through the door, slamming it shut, and ramming the upper lock home. Breathing hard, I take a second to gather my surroundings.

"Ziggy says this is a tractor supply garage." Al taps furiously at his keypad. "You know, they sell mechanical equipment. Planting supplies. Things like that."

"Tell Ziggy to spend more time figuring a way out than giving me a grocery list."
I step up to the doorway that would lead out into front part of the store...if it was locked by a gate. And, of course, it has to be a digital lock.

"Just great." I notice the stairs. "Wonder what's up there."

Al taps his controller and disappears. A couple of seconds later, and he's back. "Not much. Won't be able to hide long up there."

Al sticks his head out through the wall. Yeah, it's weird every time he does that. But it's one of the advantages of having a friend who's a hologram.

"Well?"

"They're checking all the doors. Um...turns out this was a blind alley." I give Al a look. "Don't blame me! It was him!" he says, pointing at his controller.

I roll my eyes. "Try the phone!" Al says.

"I don't know anyone's phone numbers."


"911!"

"...they'd never get here in time. Gimmie a second..."


"You don't have very many of those." He walks through the wall.

Think...think...think...

I start looking around. And that's when I start noticing things in a way I hadn't before. All the stuff around me began to look like...ingredients...

"They're still a few buildings away. They're breaking the doors down where they can." But I'm too busy gathering things. "What are you doing?"

"You said this was a supply store. They might just have everything I need back here. Give me a hand."

Al looks at me with exasperation.

"I mean, help me find stuff."

"Like what?"

I grab a rolled up newspaper from the trash. "Starer fluid. Ammonia. Acetic acid." I grab a couple of buckets and put them on the table with the newspaper. Then I pull the swiss army knife out of my jacket and cut open a chair to pull out the foam inside.

"Um...ammonia, got it." I quickly rush over and grab the bottle, pouring the contents into one of the buckets. With the bottle emptying, I tear the newspaper into strips, laying them flat. Over in the corner, I spy a bag of fertilizer. I put it on the table and cut it open, spreading small handfulls of it out on the strips.

"Whatic acid?" Al asks as he looks over the shelves.

"Vinegar!"

"In here?"

"They might be using it as a cheap degreaser or cleaner."
I spray the foam with the starter fluid and lay it on the fertilizer. Then close the strips, sealing everything inside.

"Got it. White vinegar."

"Perfect. Now I need some duct tape." A grab the bottle and start pouring the vinegar into the other bucket.

"This isn't a Wal-Mart."

"A what?"

Al shakes his head. "Damned swiss-cheese memory. Here, packing tape."

I take it reluctantly. "I'd rather have duct tape."

"Why?"

"...because it's duct tape." I quickly roll the three newspaper pockets I've made in the tape, leaving the paper ends exposed. I stick them in my pockets, and then unlock the back door.

"Sam! What the-"

"Don't worry." I grab the buckets. "I've got a plan..."
 
ANGEL
Sadness is my state of mind right now, a vampire with more than 200 years should not be sad in the middle of an abandoned hotel, it wasn't allways like that, I still remember the time when Angelus was a dreaded name, the scourge of Europe, What am I doing? Angelus wasn't exactly a good citizen, while i don't like what i've done, i can't deny that as Angelus i had a lot of fun doing what i did ...
***
1770
Darla showed me the sign of a bar, it said Drink or Run, I follow her to the bar and call the gentleman who was at the counter serving drinks.
-I would like a drink please! To me and my lady here!
Darla did not speak and was limited to sitting and smiling.
-Which one?
-Surprise us!
-Are you Irish sir?
-Yes, is there any problem?
-Of corse not, i like Irish, my family is Irish - He then puts the drinks on the table and changes his behavior to a friendlier one
-So what's your good business in our country?
-I 'm looking for a girl
-Don 't You Already have one?
-No! It's not a GIRL, I'm looking for my sister.
-An Irish blonde girl? There was one here some days ago, but she seemed upset
-Yeah, Our Mother Died just recently, and it's been very Difficult to her
-I see, i wish you luck finding her.
-I think I'm going to stay here for some more time, you know, see if anyone else saw her.
Then the man turns around and serve others, while Darla stares at me and says:
-There's 's a lot of food here
-Shhhhhhhh-there is no need to draw more atention
-They can't stop us, and since we stay here a while ...
-It is better to take advantage. I have another idea, you'll see that you will like it.
***
After many hours Darla and I wait outside the bar manager to close and leave the bar,we then follow him up to his house where, to our delight he has a family.
I'm not proud of what happened in the days that followed, as during a certain day he returned home to find his family murdered by us, with nothing to lose we lit the house on fire when he was inside this would not be the last time would commit such atrocities.
Darla_Angelus.jpg

***
1973
After a few years looking i found my sister living in a chapel, as was usually Darla and I hoped to arrange the right time to kill, when one day she drank too much at a bar, probably knowing that I would one day catch her, so while she was slleping me and Darla put her inside a coffin and buried her, but I took the liberty of writing my name inside the coffin for her to know it was me.
***
Present
As i keep staring at a bright light i see a shadow appearing in the midle of it, the shadow then takes a human form and i see a guy staring at me.
doyle.jpg


-I like the place. I mean it’s not much with the view, but it has a nice bat-cave sort of an air to it.
-Who are you?
The man looks at me and then answers
-Doyle, at your service
-What the hell is Doyle?
-Sorry if i don't have an Angelic name
-What do you want?
-I was sent, by the powers that Be
-The powers that Be what?
-I have no idea what the powers that be really are
-Then get out of here!
-But i know a lot about you
-No you don't
-Correct me if i'm wrong, Once upon a time there was a vampire. And he was the meanest vampire in all the land All the other vampires were afraid of him, he was such a bastard. Then one day he’s cursed by gypsies. They restore his human soul. And all of a sudden he is mad with guilt.
-Many demons already know that, so, are you a demon?
His face changes and becomes more thorny
S1e9_act4zi.jpg


-Half-Demon
-I don't want to fight you now
-neither do i, i was sent here to help you, why are you feelin like that, is it because of the blonde? Oh, i forgot, enter the Vampire Slayer and our vampire falls madly in love with her.
-How did you...
-Eventually the two of them, well, they get fleshy with one another. Well, I guess the technical term is perfect happiness. But when our boy gets there, he goes bad again. He kills again. It’s ugly. So when he gets his soul back for the second time, he figures hey, he can’t be any where near Miss young puppy eyes without endangering them both. So what does he do? He takes off.
-I had to
-You became alone, but hey! You've got me now, i know you want to help people but you're going to need me
-How will you help me?
-The Powers that Be give me visions you see? With those i know when somebody needs help, you can prove you deserve redemption
-I don't need redemption
-Yes you do, and you want it, i can help you
-How can can I DESERVE REDEMPTION?
angel-vampire-face.jpg


-Oh, don't try to scare me, you saw MY face, well, the point is, you've been saving people, i can help you save more if you let me help you, what do you say?
-I don't care for them
-Of corse you don't, now tell me, what was the last time you drank some blood?
I don't answer him as the last time i drank blood was from buffy, an inocent, and one of the reasons why i left.
-You're left with a bit of a craving, aren't you? Let me tell you something, pal, that craving is going to grow and one day soon one of those helpless victims that you don’t really care about is going to look way too appetizing to turn down. And you’ll figure hey! what’s one against all I’ve saved? Might as well eat them. I’m still ahead by the numbers!
Doyle then trows me a botle full of blood.
-You might as well enjoy it
-Is this human?
-I stole it from some vampires, don't worry, they're dead, but i know a place full of cow blood that is willing to share.
 
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ANGEL
It's been one week since I met Doyle and nothing special happened, he only had 3 or 4 visions and they were situations that I usually find, however, the cow's blood continues to help me, although I do not feel as alive as when i drink human blood it's enough to let me work.
I begin to hear the footsteps of Doyle walking into my direction, then I see i see him tired and sweating, as is usual after he has a vision.

-Oh, i think you're gona like this one

***

Russell Winters is old, rich, immortal, owns a company and likes to bite young women. There's no information of his life before he died and it's as if he just appeared out of nowhere some years ago.

Despite being sensitive to light of day as all the other vampires he is now one of the most powerful men in Los Angeles, and perhaps the most powerful vampire in town.

The other vampires here consider him a leader, thanks to him LA has even more vampires than Sunnydale and Sunnydale has an Hellmouth !

Every month he finds a new girl, probably young people who want to get rich quickly, they all disappear, Winters likes to torture them for a long period of time, and always gets away because of his contacts and power in the city.

L. A. ain't the city of Angels.

***
-So, we go there, kill him and the vampires of LA do not have more protection

-It's not that easy

-We go in, cut off his head and get out, it sounds like a good plan to me

-It is not!, It's suicide

-So, what would you propose?

-We Should just be more careful ok? Listen...

-Be more careful? I know exactly what to expect from a vampire

-He 's like a crime lord, you can't touch him

-Because they have guns? guns won't kill me

-Because they deal with vampires, and therefore they know what to expect, come on! Even you know vampires are not completelly friendly to each others

-Do you have a better plan?

-Actually, YES, listen, you're a vampire!

-So what?

-He trusts, vampires, why do not you? Huhm, just be yourself, you know, work for him, gain his trust,find the right moment to kill him.

-I'll try it your way but if he makes me kill an inocent we'll do it mine
 
I pop the trunk to the Impala. Then I lift the fake bottom and prop it up, exposing all the compartments that hold the tools hunters use to fight the supernatural creepy-crawlers. Salt, cold iron, special types of woods, various elixers and concoctions. And Guns.

A ****load of guns.

"Where the hell did I put it?" I start digging around while Sammy leans over the side of the trunk.

"So while dad was out hunting, where were you?"

"I was working my own gig. A voodoo thing down in New Orleans."

"Dad let you out on a hunt by yourself?"

I give Sammy a look. "I'm twenty-six, dude."

I finally find the folder. "Here we go. Dad was checking out this two lane blacktop just outside Jericho, California." I pull out some news clippings and start handing them to Sammy.

"About a month ago, this guy. They found his car, but he completely vanished. MIA."

"So maybe he were kidnapped."

"Yeah, well, here's another one. In April. March. '08. '05, '04, '03, '88. Ten over the last twenty years. All men. All over the same stretch of five miles of road. Started happening more and more, so dad went to dig around. That was about three weeks ago."

"Haven't heard from him since?"

"Which is bad enough. Then I get this voice mail yesterday." I pull out a handheld recorder and play it back.

Through the static and popping comes dad's voice. "Dean...Something big is starting to happen. I...think it's...serious...I need...to try and figure it out...I may need to keep...looking. Be very care...ful, Dean. We're all...in danger."

I stop the recording. "You know there's EVP on that?"

I give Sammy a smirk. "Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?"

"Alright, I slowed the message down and ran it through one of those free sound programs. Check out what I got..."

I skip to the next section and hit play. The pop and clicks are a lot slower. But, in a woman's voice, only slightly above a whisper-

"...I can never go home..."

"I can never go home..." Sammy repeats.

I turn the player off and put it back before sitting on the lip of the trunk. "You know...in two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for anything."

Sammy looks away and sighs. I give him his time. "Alright, I'll go. I'll help, but I need to be back by Monday. Wait here." Sammy turns to go back up the stairs.

"Monday?"

He looks back at me, obviously not wanting to answer. Probably thinks I'll tease him. Probably will. "I...have this...interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"Heh. No. A law school interview. My whole future on a plate."

"Law school, eh?" I smile, but let it slide. I need Sammy's help more than I need to rib him. I'll wait until we're on the road and he can't change his mind.

"If they only knew." Ok, I had to get one in there.

***

Sam slips a nasty looking blade into his bag just before Jess walks in the room.

"Wait, so you're taking off? Is your dad alright?"

Sam quickly closes the bag up. "Oh, yeah. Just family drama," he says with a fake smile.

"I thought your dad was on some kind of hunting trip."

"Yeah. Just hunting some...deer up at the cabin. Probably has Jim, Jack, and Jose keeping him company. We're just going to go bring him back."

Jess sits on the bed next to the bag and starts idly opening it. Sam notices and quickly grabs some clothes from the drawer, sticking them into the bag on top of the blade.

"What about your interview."

"It's Monday. I'll only be a couple of days."

"Sam, stop of a second." She pulls on his arm to stop him from walking out of the bedroom with the bag. "Are you ok?"

Sam puts on a smile. "I'm fine."

"It's just...you won't even talk about your family. Now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend the weekend with them? And with the interview coming up? It's a big deal."

He takes her hands in his. "Everything's going to be ok. I'll make it back in time. I promise." He gives her a kiss on the cheek and walks out the door.

"At least tell me where you're going."

***

Jericho, California

A car drives down the dark highway, the moon high in the sky but not yet full. With one hand on the wheel, he talk into his phone.

"I can't come over tonight, Amy....because I have work in the morning....Ok, if I miss it, my dad will have my ass," he says with a laugh.

"Yeah, but..." a high pitched whine comes over the car radio and phone. "Are you still there? Ok, it's just weird that-"

As he drives along a curve, his headlights point at a tree on the side of the road. And under that tree looks to be a woman in a white dress, dancing by herself.

"What in the-?" He looks down at his phone, but it's gone dead. And he turns the radio off as the whine grows louder. He starts pulling the car over to the side next to the woman.

As his car stops, she turns and looks over at him.

"Car trouble or something?"

That's when she really looks at him, and his breath catches at the sight of her. He couldn't even describe how beautiful she was even if he tried.

"...take me home..."
 
"SAM!!!. This way! This way!"

Al waves his arm in the direction of an alleyway like a third base coach telling a base-runner to head home.

I turn the corner like he says, the wall behind me exploding from a couple of bullets as I run.

"GOGOGO!!!"

Don't have to tell me twice.

I run as fast as I can, and see Al ahead of me again. "In here! The door's unlocked."

I burst through the door, slamming it shut, and ramming the upper lock home. Breathing hard, I take a second to gather my surroundings.

"Ziggy says this is a tractor supply garage." Al taps furiously at his keypad. "You know, they sell mechanical equipment. Planting supplies. Things like that."

"Tell Ziggy to spend more time figuring a way out than giving me a grocery list."
I step up to the doorway that would lead out into front part of the store...if it was locked by a gate. And, of course, it has to be a digital lock.

"Just great." I notice the stairs. "Wonder what's up there."

Al taps his controller and disappears. A couple of seconds later, and he's back. "Not much. Won't be able to hide long up there."

Al sticks his head out through the wall. Yeah, it's weird every time he does that. But it's one of the advantages of having a friend who's a hologram.

"Well?"

"They're checking all the doors. Um...turns out this was a blind alley." I give Al a look. "Don't blame me! It was him!" he says, pointing at his controller.

I roll my eyes. "Try the phone!" Al says.

"I don't know anyone's phone numbers."


"911!"

"...they'd never get here in time. Gimmie a second..."


"You don't have very many of those." He walks through the wall.

Think...think...think...

I start looking around. And that's when I start noticing things in a way I hadn't before. All the stuff around me began to look like...ingredients...

"They're still a few buildings away. They're breaking the doors down where they can." But I'm too busy gathering things. "What are you doing?"

"You said this was a supply store. They might just have everything I need back here. Give me a hand."

Al looks at me with exasperation.

"I mean, help me find stuff."

"Like what?"

I grab a rolled up newspaper from the trash. "Starer fluid. Ammonia. Acetic acid." I grab a couple of buckets and put them on the table with the newspaper. Then I pull the swiss army knife out of my jacket and cut open a chair to pull out the foam inside.

"Um...ammonia, got it." I quickly rush over and grab the bottle, pouring the contents into one of the buckets. With the bottle emptying, I tear the newspaper into strips, laying them flat. Over in the corner, I spy a bag of fertilizer. I put it on the table and cut it open, spreading small handfulls of it out on the strips.

"Whatic acid?" Al asks as he looks over the shelves.

"Vinegar!"

"In here?"

"They might be using it as a cheap degreaser or cleaner."
I spray the foam with the starter fluid and lay it on the fertilizer. Then close the strips, sealing everything inside.

"Got it. White vinegar."

"Perfect. Now I need some duct tape." A grab the bottle and start pouring the vinegar into the other bucket.

"This isn't a Wal-Mart."

"A what?"

Al shakes his head. "Damned swiss-cheese memory. Here, packing tape."

I take it reluctantly. "I'd rather have duct tape."

"Why?"

"...because it's duct tape." I quickly roll the three newspaper pockets I've made in the tape, leaving the paper ends exposed. I stick them in my pockets, and then unlock the back door.

"Sam! What the-"

"Don't worry." I grab the buckets. "I've got a plan..."

"They're almost here!" Al whispers.

"Why are you whispering? They can't hear you,"
I whisper back.

"Get ready!" he says in a normal voice, and it makes me jump. "That's why."

I give Al a look. But it's forgotten once we hear the door downstairs being kicked in. All disappears, then reappears halfway down the staircase. I get the buckets ready, waiting for Al to give me the signal.

"Wait for it..." And once the second man walks inside, "NOW!"

I quickly stand at the top of the staircase and splash the contents of the first bucket onto the floor below, making the men jump. Then I throw the contents of the second bucket. Once it lands on the liquid from the first, it instantly creates a heavy fog that fills the room. The men yell out in surprise, unable to see anything, and coughing.

I pull the mask I found over my mouth, and light the end of the first of the two newspaper bombs I whipped together. I toss it down and it explodes with more noise than actual damage. I light and toss the second one right behind it. The fog and bombs make effective improvised flashbangs.

I quickly run down the stairs.

"Nine o'clock!" Al shouts. I quickly reorient myself in the fog and throw a punch, knocking one of the men chasing me right down.

"DUCK!" I duck down, and feel a swing pass right above my head. I spin around with a spinning kick, bringing the second man down. Then I put my fist in his face to make sure he stays down. I take his gun and do the same to the first guy I knocked down.

"Go, Sam. Go!" I quickly run outside, emptying the guns of their magazines and shells in the chamber before tossing them all in different directions.

"That was fun!" Al says with excitement. I just sigh and roll my eyes as I start running again.

***

The police officers force the guys that had been chasing into their cars. I stand there with my hands in my pockets, happy about another job done.

"You cut it close there." A large man steps up beside me. Apparently, as Al informed me, he's the best friend of the man I leaped into.

"Uh, yeah."

He slaps me on the back. "Just par for the course," he says with a laugh.

"Who knew writing up an environmental report would be so dangerous?"

"An environmental report that could cost some companies millions in fines. I'm glad you're ok."

116tgtw.jpg

"You did a good job, Mac."
23r1nxt.jpg

"Thanks, Pete."

I feel the familiar tingle, and suddenly everything changes.

***

The tingle fades, and is replaced by the all too familiar confusion. Think of what it would be like to blink your eyes, and be in a completely different place by the time they opened. Combine that with partial amnesia, utter confusion, and a lot of adrenaline, and you might get a small sense of what I feel every time.

Luckily, after you've been leaping for a few years, you get pretty fast at recovering.

First thing's first, look around, get some perspective. Sights, smells, noises, take them all in. Gather as many clues to try and figure out what's happening as fast as you can. Get you're bearings. Leaping is always easier when you've got some sense, how ever vague, of what you just leaped into.

I notice that I'm squatting down in a large room. Around me, men and woman are busy doing...things. It takes me a second to realize they're police. Or, at least some of them are. But these aren't normal police uniforms. At least not for anywhere in the States.

"Well? What do you think?"

I look towards the voice. A tall man is also squatting across from me, giving me a curious look. He's tall, thin, and judging by the accent, definitely British.

"Think?" I say, knowing enough to put on an accent of my own, hoping it's close to being correct.

"About the body."

"Body?" I look down and notice the body. The body of a dead man lying between us. Doesn't take a genius to figure out what's going on.

"Honestly, you really need to work on your concentration, Watson."


"...oh boy..."
 
Indiana Jones
Director of the B.P.R.D.

After an almost completely silent plane ride home, I disembark at headquarters and find Hellboy waiting for me on the tarmac. I greet my old friend and ask, "So how goes the rookies' training?"

"Not bad," he smiles through a cigar. "The little runts are good. Still can't get the Sherman girl to use her power though. Thought you might want to talk to her about it. The others are demonstrating a lot more control though. They'll be one hell of a force once they learn to work as a team."

"Good," I nod and make a mental note to go talk to Liz. Having these kids ready to fight may be necessary sooner than expected after the weird goings on in Britain.

"How was your mission, boss?" Hellboy asks as he sees Abe being helped off the plane. "Blue doesn't look too good. You bite off more than you can chew? I told you I should have gone with."

"I'm gonna do the debriefing in the conference room," I respond as we pass into the main building. "Go round up Manning. And Cash. I want one of the kids there, and he seems to be the best available to lead their squad when the time comes. I want them in on this."

"Sure thing," Red nods and heads off to gather the troops. While I head for my office.

I give everyone ten minutes before heading back to the debriefing, where I find all the rookie metas, as well as Kate, Hellboy, Abe, and Manning. "Ah, you all came."

"You be, doc," Liz smiles. "You're not gonna keep us outta the loop."

"Nope, you recruited us, you have to deal with us," Grunge adds in.

"Terrific, we're a happy little family," Manning moans. "Can we please get to the point?"

"Give the kids a break, Manning," Hellboy snaps.

"Enough," I say in a calm voice. I then jump right into the point of this meeting, "The past few days Kate, Abe, and I led a team to Tarmagant Island off the coast of Great Britain to investigate a disturbance." Mentioning the place of his discovery gets Hellboy's attention. "While there, we discovered a temple that seemed to have sprung up overnight located underneath a statue of seven dragon heads. Within, a creature was discovered. Here is a sketch drawn by Dr. Corrigan," I say as an image of the beast appears on the screen behind me. "The beast was battled and neutralized, insuring the eggs found in the main chamber won't survive. Now, I want everyone researching and trying to find out what the creature was and what the dragons meant."

"I can answer that last part," Hellboy responds, obviously troubled by the revelations. "Come to the library."

The assembled group follows the big red guy to our destination, where he climbs to a high, dusty shelf and pulls out a singular book and opens to a folded over page. "Father tried to hide this one from me," he says as he places the book on a table. "But I'm smarter than even he thought. I had to know the truth, and I found it."

As soon as I look at the page, I'm brought back to decades ago. Broom had shown me the same exact page years ago. On it, I see the many-headed dragon, and below I see Hellboy and his right arm releasing a lock on its prison.

"Red...that's you," Caitlin Fairchild whispers. "What is that thing?"

"Ogdru Jahad," the words come out of my mouth like the whisper of a dying man.

"My word," Abe gasps.

"What?" Cash asks.

"The dragon of the Apacolypse," Hellboy responds, as serious as I've ever heard him. "Which I'm destined to set free on the Earth. It was the reason he brought me here. This means he's back, Indiana. We need to get ready for war."

"Excuse me," Manning asks, annoyed. "Who's back?"

"Rasputin," I say, the word tastes like poison on my lips. "Kids...get some sleep. Tomorrow we kick your training into overdrive."

**********

Cardiff, Wales

"You better take their call," the dark haired woman says as she slides the phone to the man sitting at the end of the table. "It's the fourth one of the same. Something's chewing people up left and right and we need to find it."

"Ugh," the man responds. "Why are we always the ones that need to deal with it. Why isn't there any other paranormal defense force in this damn country?"

"Stop whining and grab a gun," the third of their group says as he puts his suit jacket on. "Or are you gonna mope all night?"

"He's just mad The Doctor hasn't shown up to handle it yet," the woman responds, grabbing a weapon of her own.

"Fine, your right," the handsome man responds and hops up. "Looks like Torchwood has to take care of this one."

**********

Pocono Mountains, Pennsylvania

Grigori Rasputin stands between the trees, breathing in the mountain air for the first time in decades. He smiles at his young associate standing next to him, "Patience, Leon. They will be here soon."

"Whatever you say, man," Leon Carver responds. "I still don't think werewolves are real."

Rasputin chuckles. The boy is a fool, but he is powerful, and will be a useful tool in the coming weeks as he prepares the earth for his master. Rasputin already sensed that Sammael had been encountered, meaning the hell hound would begin to spread and cause panic. But if the process took too long, Rasputin would need others to draw the attention of those who would try to stop him. Which is why he is waiting for a pack of werewolves.

After a few more minutes, the alpha of the pack comes from the woods warily, drawn by the old man's considerable power, "What do you want mage?"

"Only your help, Jacobson," Rasputin smiles his evil smile. "In return for dominion over the wilds."

"Heh...and how do you have the power to provide that," the big brown wolf growls.

"Because the time of the dragon is upon us, wolf," evil incarnate responds. "And at the time of the dragon the feared will rule."
 
TMNT-Leoeyes.jpg


"What's the address?" I ask April as she follows me through the sewers.

"Seventeenth and Bleaker," she says, still trying her best to get as little sewer water on her as possible. "So...you guys really are the good guys right? Out there to protect us?"

I chuckle, "That's what our goal is. Seems like in a town like this there's not enough of us to go around. Which is why your help could be the difference in this."

"I'll do my best," she responds as I stop and hoist her up to the ladder to the surface, and begin climbing up behind her. She emerges from the sewers into the new York night, obviously happy to be breathing the air from the surface. As I emerge from the sewer she says, "Thank you for everything tonight. I don't know what would have happened if it wasn't for you."

"Don't mention it," I respond. "That's what we're here for. Now remember, check out those tattoos. And don't stop talking about us. The more we're mentioned in the media, the better. The more fear we can inflict into the bad guys the better."

"No problem," she nods. "But how will I get in contact with you when I need..." She trails off as I've disappeared into the shadows.

"Don't worry," my voice startles her. "I'll keep in touch."
 
The tingle fades, and is replaced by the all too familiar confusion. Think of what it would be like to blink your eyes, and be in a completely different place by the time they opened. Combine that with partial amnesia, utter confusion, and a lot of adrenaline, and you might get a small sense of what I feel every time.

Luckily, after you've been leaping for a few years, you get pretty fast at recovering.

First thing's first, look around, get some perspective. Sights, smells, noises, take them all in. Gather as many clues to try and figure out what's happening as fast as you can. Get you're bearings. Leaping is always easier when you've got some sense, how ever vague, of what you just leaped into.

I notice that I'm squatting down in a large room. Around me, men and woman are busy doing...things. It takes me a second to realize they're police. Or, at least some of them are. But these aren't normal police uniforms. At least not for anywhere in the States.

"Well? What do you think?"

I look towards the voice. A tall man is also squatting across from me, giving me a curious look. He's tall, thin, and judging by the accent, definitely British.

"Think?" I say, knowing enough to put on an accent of my own, hoping it's close to being correct.

"About the body."

"Body?" I look down and notice the body. The body of a dead man lying between us. Doesn't take a genius to figure out what's going on.

"Honestly, you really need to work on your concentration, Watson."


"...oh boy..."

I arch my eyebrow at John and turn to the body. Just like Morstan, he was strangled and beaten to death, bruises form a ring around his neck. He has all the same signs that he was a copper, scarred knuckles and the tell tale signs of a life of alcohol abuse. Taped to his chest is number 3. Like Morstan, the countdown continues.

"Do you have a good idea on the time of death, John? It appears he's coming out of rigor mortis."
 
I arch my eyebrow at John and turn to the body. Just like Morstan, he was strangled and beaten to death, bruises form a ring around his neck. He has all the same signs that he was a copper, scarred knuckles and the tell tale signs of a life of alcohol abuse. Taped to his chest is number 3. Like Morstan, the countdown continues.

"Do you have a good idea on the time of death, John? It appears he's coming out of rigor mortis."

"Um, right. Time of...death."

I take a deep swallow and start looking over the body. I'm a doctor, as Al has told me. So it would be really nice for my swiss cheese memory played nice for once.

I start checking the limbs. "You're right, rigor is beginning to fade. That puts it at least 12 hours. Liver temp would be more accurate."

"Oh, by all means," someone in a suit who very much acts like he's in charge says.

"Oh, alright then." Noticing a lab tech setting up some equipment, I step over, grab a liver probe, then plunge it into the chest. Guess my training is still there.

"Wait, you're not authorized!"
 
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Washington D.C.
July 7th, 1863

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Inside the Oval Office, Abraham Lincoln sighed as he looked over the news reports coming from Pennsylvania. The conflict they were calling the Battle of Gettysburg had been horrible. The numbers weren't confirmed yet, but the death toll and the carnage that both sides had endured were horrible. General Meade's reports painted a grim picture. What was worse, the battle had appeared to have been a stalemate. So much lose of life and spirit, and for what? Neither side could claim victory.

Perhaps his advisers were right, Lincoln thought, perhaps it would be best to let the Confederacy go about their business. It wouldn't last long, his cabinet speculated. The South's backward ways left them ill prepared for the future. Within ten years time they would be begging to be brought back into the Union.

Bzzzz!

Lincoln looked up from his desk as he heard the strange sound from outside the office. More curious noises, followed by sounds of struggle before the door burst open.

"Abraham Lincoln!" The excited young man cried out as he strode through the Oval Office towards Lincoln. "16th President of the US. The Great Emancipator. Oops, spoilers."

"Who are you?" Lincoln asked with a scowl. "Why are you in my office?"
[FONT=&quot]
[/FONT]
"I'm the Doctor," he said as he stopped in front of the desk. His eyes darted to the stovepipe hat laying on the desk. "No time to really explain why I'm here," he said as he picked the hat off the desk and placed it on his head. "This is a stovepipe hat right? That's cool. Stovepipe hats are cool."

Suddenly, the door leading into the Oval Office burst open and a robotic version of Robert E. Lee roared.

"THE SOUTH WILL PREVAIL, SUH!!!" The robot Lee said as it rushed towards Lincoln. "THE DAMNED YANKEES WILL DIE!"

The Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket and aimed it at the robot. Sparks flew from robot Lee and it fell to the ground, coming to a sliding stop inches from the Doctor. The Doctor held the screwdriver up to his mouth and blew on it like the barrel of a smoking gun.

"What is the meaning of this," Lincoln said as he stood. "I demand to know!"

"There are two things you need to know," the Doctor said as he bent down and scanned over the robotic Lee with his screwdriver. "One, someone has placed a robotic Confederate army here in Washington. They have only one goal in mind: Kill you and have the Confederacy capture Washington."

He stood up and placed the screwdriver back into his jacket.

"The second thing you need to know: trust the Doctor."


****

Ford's Theatre
Washington D.C.
April 14th, 1865

10:05 PM


Abraham Lincoln was walking up the stairs of the theater when the figure in the shadows took him back.

"Hello, Abe," the Doctor said with a smile. "How's the play?"

"Doctor!" Lincoln said with a large grin. "I thought I'd never see you again... Wait," he said, his smile evaporating. "Something's wrong. You only show up when something's wrong."

"This time, I'm popping in to say hello. And to ask a question. You remember our run in a few years back, after we unplugged the hive mind that was running you Robo-Confederates, you asked me to take you with me. You said the pain and stress of running it all was too much. What did I say to you?"

"You said I was too important."

"Right. Your place was here, preserving the Union and being all kinds of marvelous. The Great Emancipator, 'four score and seven years ago' and etc.' That conversation made me think, Abe. In the future, you're seen as one of, if not the greatest US Presidents in history, and you had a weak moment. Even a man as great as you cannot be expected to deal with the pressure and stress of trying to keep a nation together, but you did. Through sheer force of will you kept this country from tearing itself apart. And for that, I think you deserve some away time. I'm going to take you up on your offer."

"You mean-"

"That's right." the Doctor said with a nod. "I'm taking you with me out there. We'll see it all, Abe! Every planet, every star, every where and when."

"But, Doctor, if I may ask... Why now?"

"Because the Civil War is over and if there's one man who deserves a vacation is over, it's you."

"But what about my wife? The presidency?"

"Time machine, remember? We run around time and space and then I plop you back here and you go back to your seat to enjoy the rest of the show."

"This exact moment?"

"This exact moment," the Doctor said, checking his watch. "Ten o' five PM on the Fifteenth of April, 1865. I give you my word."

"Very well," Lincoln said with a nod. "But what about my hat?"

The Doctor smiled and reached into his coat pocket, pulling a stovepipe hat from its depths. "Here you go," he said, handing the hat to Lincoln. "Lucky for you I keep a spare. Now, shall we?"

"Let's."

"Just don't hope we run into Churchill. He'll have a fit if he knows I let you come along with me. Best not to even mention it to him. As far as you're concerned, Abe, you don't know me and you don't know who Churchill is."

"Who's Churchill?"

"That's the spirit! Now, away with us!"

Lincoln led the way down the steps of the theater. The Doctor followed behind him and stopped only to glance down at the theater. Our American Cousin was in its third act. The Doctor saw the slender frame of John Wilkes Booth walking down an aisle. What Abe didn't know was that he only had ten minutes until Booth shot him in the back of the had with a Derringer. Nine hours after that, and only just five days after the peace he had fought so hard to obtain had come to pass, Abraham Lincoln would be dead. A cruel ending for such a great man.

"Where is your box?" Lincoln asked as he put his hat on.

"This way," the Doctor said as he led him out the theater's side door. Sitting on the curb beside Ford's Theatre was the TARDIS. "Just a warning, Abe," the Doctor said as they approached it. "It's-"

"Bigger on the inside. Yes, Doctor, I remember."

The Doctor smiled and unlocked the TARDIS door. He went inside with Lincoln right behind him. Seconds later, the TARDIS vanished from the street outside Ford's Theatre, and from 1865 all together.

Abraham Lincoln only had nine more hours of life left, and the Doctor was bound and determined to make them the longest and most enjoyable nine hours anyone had ever had.
 
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One Year Later...

It has been a year of highs and lows. Of victories and defeat. Of good and evil.

In New York City, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fought and defeated their greatest enemy, The Shredder. Though they lost their identities in the process, as the Shredder turned out to be none other than Hamato Yoshi, the man they once believed to be avenging. Yoshi was bent on creating a criminal empire to dominate the United States. He succeeded in gaining control of New York, but was stopped from escalating his power when Leonardo beheaded him in a showdown between the Foot and the brothers.

On a larger scale, Indiana Jones and the BPRD clashed against a resurrected Rasputin and his followers, who were intent on releasing Ogrdu Jahad, the dragon of the apocalypse. After countless fights between the BPRD's new super human agents and Rasputin's creatures of the dark, the evil sorcerer succeeded in trapping Hallboy, and used his hand to unlock the doors of the apocalypse.

Thankfully, Jones succeeded in snapping Hellboy out of his trance and the two of them killed Rasputin again, and locked the dragon back in his inter dimensional prison.

While the Bureau had succeeded in saving the world, the goings on opened the people's eyes to the larger world. Now the world of the weird and superhuman was known at large, if not the larger details. The BPRD is now a known entity, still protecting the people of Earth.

But now, new threats are set to raise. Some of this earth. Some from others. And some from the dark corners of the mystical world.
 
TMNT-Leoeyes.jpg


The New York nights seem a lot more empty and foreboding lately. The Foot and the Purple Dragon have been foiled for months, and the streets have been relatively quiet for that time, but the nightly patrols aren't the same without my brothers. Home isn't the same without their bickering and their laughs. And life isn't the same without Splinter's words of wisdom guiding me through the darkness.

They all left, one by one after our defeat of The Shredder. First, Master Splinter, driven to self reexamination after discovering the Shredder was in fact Hamato Yoshi. Then Donatello and Michelangelo left after being recruited by the BPRD. Mikey for the promise of adventure, Donatello for the promise of knowledge he considered farcical mere months ago.

Last to leave was Raphael. After a while his lust for battle could not be satisfied here, and he left just like the others. The two of us had taken so many steps to rectify our relationship, and yet it wasn't enough to keep him in New York.

Losing them and their presence hurts, but what cuts deeper is that it points to a personal failure. I was the designated leader by our father. I was the one that was supposed to show us the way in his absence, yet nothing I did worked. Our family broke because I wasn't able to do anything about it.


Closing my notes, I stand and look out the window towards the city. It seems quiet tonight, as it has been for months. It amazes me that in the absence of The Foot and their army no one has risen to take the city for their own. But that doesn't mean it won't happen eventually. I'll need to be ready for when it does.

I leave my room, and find Casey and April coming through the door with groceries in their hand. April smiles and greets me, "Oh, hey Leo."

"Hey, you guys need any help?" I've been staying with them since the family left. Well really, I've been staying with April, along with Casey Jones. The two became incredibly close during our exile in Northhampton, and have recently started dating. I know they say I'm not a bother, but I can't help but feel like I am.

"No, we're good, buddy," Casey smiles, reaching into a bag and tossing a container my way. "Your favorite."

I look down and smile at the package of sushi in my hands. Casey has become such a good friend the past few months, even sneaking out on patrol with me when April isn't home. She's done a good job of taming him and bringing his violent side into check, but he's a fighter at heart, and I appreciate the company and help.

"Thanks guys," I say with gratitude. "What are you two up to tonight?"

"I think we're just going to stay in and watch a movie. Boring, but after having so many days of work, I just want to relax," April sighs. After her coverage of The Foot in New York and the Ogdru Jahad incident, she was given an anchor job, one of the youngest ever.

"Captain America, man. You in?" Casey waves the DVD at me. "And I got some beers. I don't think underage drinking applies to mutant turtles, right?"

I chuckle and shake my head, "Tempting, but no. I think I'm going to head out tonight."

"Suit yourself, dude. We'll watch Captain America kick some Nazi ass alone."

**********

Baxter Stockman pours more whiskey over the almost completely melted ice cubes and takes a long drink as he sits in his darkened apartment alone and drunk. He had failed again and again to appease his client. At least his real client. And he was sure he'd be killed for it sometime soon. His employer wasn't one to be failed.

FOOM


Instantly, three forms instantly appear in the apartment, and Stockman jumps in his seat, knocking over the bottle of whiskey in the process, "G-general. How good to see you."

"No need for the pleasantries, Dr. Stockman," the large man responds. "You have failed again. The mutagen project has failed-"

"It worked! The powers on earth prove-"

"QUIET!" the general booms. "Yes, the mutagen proved fruitful here. But I paid you to make sure that never happened. It was for me, Stockman. It was for my army."

"Without the other-"

"No, I will hear no more of your excuses. Do you have any other ideas? Or shall I end your pitiful life now?"

"No, no. I have an idea...but I need some funding."

"It will be yours."

"Then I'll get you your mutagen."

"See that you do, Stockman."

scan0001-1.jpg


"I've got a war to fight and I will not accept any more delays."
 
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Previously




Washington D.C.
July 7th, 1863

[FONT="]
[/FONT]
Inside the Oval Office, Abraham Lincoln sighed as he looked over the news reports coming from Pennsylvania. The conflict they were calling the Battle of Gettysburg had been horrible. The numbers weren't confirmed yet, but the death toll and the carnage that both sides had endured were horrible. General Meade's reports painted a grim picture. What was worse, the battle had appeared to have been a stalemate. So much lose of life and spirit, and for what? Neither side could claim victory.

Perhaps his advisers were right, Lincoln thought, perhaps it would be best to let the Confederacy go about their business. It wouldn't last long, his cabinet speculated. The South's backward ways left them ill prepared for the future. Within ten years time they would be begging to be brought back into the Union.

Bzzzz!

Lincoln looked up from his desk as he heard the strange sound from outside the office. More curious noises, followed by sounds of struggle before the door burst open.

"Abraham Lincoln!" The excited young man cried out as he strode through the Oval Office towards Lincoln. "16th President of the US. The Great Emancipator. Oops, spoilers."

"Who are you?" Lincoln asked with a scowl. "Why are you in my office?"
[FONT="]
[/FONT]
"I'm the Doctor," he said as he stopped in front of the desk. His eyes darted to the stovepipe hat laying on the desk. "No time to really explain why I'm here," he said as he picked the hat off the desk and placed it on his head. "This is a stovepipe hat right? That's cool. Stovepipe hats are cool."

Suddenly, the door leading into the Oval Office burst open and a robotic version of Robert E. Lee roared.

"THE SOUTH WILL PREVAIL, SUH!!!" The robot Lee said as it rushed towards Lincoln. "THE DAMNED YANKEES WILL DIE!"

The Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket and aimed it at the robot. Sparks flew from robot Lee and it fell to the ground, coming to a sliding stop inches from the Doctor. The Doctor held the screwdriver up to his mouth and blew on it like the barrel of a smoking gun.

"What is the meaning of this," Lincoln said as he stood. "I demand to know!"

"There are two things you need to know," the Doctor said as he bent down and scanned over the robotic Lee with his screwdriver. "One, someone has placed a robotic Confederate army here in Washington. They have only one goal in mind: Kill you and have the Confederacy capture Washington."

He stood up and placed the screwdriver back into his jacket.

"The second thing you need to know: trust the Doctor."


****

Ford's Theatre
Washington D.C.
April 14th, 1865

10:05 PM


Abraham Lincoln was walking up the stairs of the theater when the figure in the shadows took him back.

"Hello, Abe," the Doctor said with a smile. "How's the play?"

"Doctor!" Lincoln said with a large grin. "I thought I'd never see you again... Wait," he said, his smile evaporating. "Something's wrong. You only show up when something's wrong."

"This time, I'm popping in to say hello. And to ask a question. You remember our run in a few years back, after we unplugged the hive mind that was running you Robo-Confederates, you asked me to take you with me. You said the pain and stress of running it all was too much. What did I say to you?"

"You said I was too important."

"Right. Your place was here, preserving the Union and being all kinds of marvelous. The Great Emancipator, 'four score and seven years ago' and etc.' That conversation made me think, Abe. In the future, you're seen as one of, if not the greatest US Presidents in history, and you had a weak moment. Even a man as great as you cannot be expected to deal with the pressure and stress of trying to keep a nation together, but you did. Through sheer force of will you kept this country from tearing itself apart. And for that, I think you deserve some away time. I'm going to take you up on your offer."

"You mean-"

"That's right." the Doctor said with a nod. "I'm taking you with me out there. We'll see it all, Abe! Every planet, every star, every where and when."

"But, Doctor, if I may ask... Why now?"

"Because the Civil War is over and if there's one man who deserves a vacation is over, it's you."

"But what about my wife? The presidency?"

"Time machine, remember? We run around time and space and then I plop you back here and you go back to your seat to enjoy the rest of the show."

"This exact moment?"

"This exact moment," the Doctor said, checking his watch. "Ten o' five PM on the Fifteenth of April, 1865. I give you my word."

"Very well," Lincoln said with a nod. "But what about my hat?"

The Doctor smiled and reached into his coat pocket, pulling a stovepipe hat from its depths. "Here you go," he said, handing the hat to Lincoln. "Lucky for you I keep a spare. Now, shall we?"

"Let's."

"Just don't hope we run into Churchill. He'll have a fit if he knows I let you come along with me. Best not to even mention it to him. As far as you're concerned, Abe, you don't know me and you don't know who Churchill is."

"Who's Churchill?"

"That's the spirit! Now, away with us!"

Lincoln led the way down the steps of the theater. The Doctor followed behind him and stopped only to glance down at the theater. Our American Cousin was in its third act. The Doctor saw the slender frame of John Wilkes Booth walking down an aisle. What Abe didn't know was that he only had ten minutes until Booth shot him in the back of the had with a Derringer. Nine hours after that, and only just five days after the peace he had fought so hard to obtain had come to pass, Abraham Lincoln would be dead. A cruel ending for such a great man.

"Where is your box?" Lincoln asked as he put his hat on.

"This way," the Doctor said as he led him out the theater's side door. Sitting on the curb beside Ford's Theatre was the TARDIS. "Just a warning, Abe," the Doctor said as they approached it. "It's-"

"Bigger on the inside. Yes, Doctor, I remember."

The Doctor smiled and unlocked the TARDIS door. He went inside with Lincoln right behind him. Seconds later, the TARDIS vanished from the street outside Ford's Theatre, and from 1865 all together.

Abraham Lincoln only had nine more hours of life left, and the Doctor was bound and determined to make them the longest and most enjoyable nine hours anyone had ever had.

Centauri 8
2267

"What happened here?" Lincoln asked from behind the Doctor. The TARDIS was sitting on the turquoise colored beach of Centauri 8 while the Doctor and Lincoln looked out across the plant's amber colored water. Across the sea was the smoldering ruins of a city. Smoke curled up into the air and overcast purple tinted sun.

"Something horrible," the Doctor said with a sigh. They had been on the planet for hours now, surveying the ruins. The Doctor knew something wasn't right from the moment they stepped out the TARDIS. Centauri 8 was a resort planet, a place for interstellar tourist to come and kick back their heels. Now, it was nothing but burnt husks and cinders. Just an hour earlier they had come across a gruesome sight. Millions of dead bodies, all of them from different races, all of them dropped into a massive pit in the ground.

"There are usually ten billion people on this planet. We only saw about three or four million dead bodies."

"Where are the rest?"

"I think I know," the Doctor said as he began to pace on the sand. "Those dead, did you notice anything? Anything at all? They all seemed to have one thing in common."

"Now that you mention it," Lincoln said, scratching his beard. "The humans I saw, most of them were old."

"Exactly! All of those killed were elderly, disabled, or sickly. They were..unusable. That tells me a lot things. This moment in time, this part of space. Only one people it can be..."

The Doctor trailed off and turned to look at Lincoln.

"Oh, Abe. What have I done? I took you halfway across the galaxy, four hundred years in the future, and for what? To bring you right back to where you were."

"What exactly do you mean," Lincoln asked with a scowl.

"The people on this planet, the ones who were able-bodied were kidnapped for one reason: slavery. They were kidnapped by an organization who specializes in the practice of slavery."

Lincoln's face went slack and emotionless. Even though he knew nothing of this planet or its peoples and customs, the very thought of people this far into the future still practicing the vile practice of slavery boiled his blood.

"What's our next move?"

"We follow the trail," the Doctor said as he started to walk to the TARDIS. "The ships they would need to transport that many people off-world, they will leave energy trails. We follow them to whatever place they've taken the people and tourists of Centauri 8."

Lincoln followed behind the Doctor. "And then what?" He asked.

The Doctor stopped in front of the TARDIS and looked back at Lincoln. The Doctor looked Lincoln up and down before he opened the TARDIS' door. "And then? We introduce the Great Emancipator to the Orion Syndicate. The hard way."
 
optimus.png


Autobot Orbital Command
Opulus System

It has been too long since I've been in the field, he thinks. Too long since he had shared the battle with those that he sent willingly into the fray. He wonders what they think of him, sitting here in the command center but not engaging the enemy. The war has been going on for milleinias, and there's no doubt that it has been weighing on many of the Autobot's minds. He worries sometimes that if the war did end that his people would never be able to acclimatize themselves to peace time, and that another conflict would spring up immediately

The lack of news of Megatron added to his trepidation over the current state of the war. The Decepticon leader hasn't been seen for decades at this point, an odd period of inactivity from the violence hungry leader. Prime often thinks of the bot that once gave him a manifesto on non-violent aggression and how much he has changed.

Optimus stands and walks to a view port, looking out of the Autobot Orbital Command Hub and onto the planet Opulus below. Once his homeworld was like this, but now it is a broken, dead husk. And it was partially his fault. It was all their faults really. The Autobots and Decepticons had no one to blame but themselves.

And yet they continue the war. And Optimus will continue as long as the Decepticons threaten planets and species across the galaxy.

**********


Earth

"Ratchet, cease purs-" Ratchet turns off his communications to Ark-19, and continues speeding down the road in pursuit of a blue jet fighter, which is buzzing over a van.

Ratchet notices the van slow down, and its two inhabitants jump out, rolling and saving themselves from serious injury. As they do, the jet fires a missile, blowing the van sky high.

The two humans stand and run towards the speeding ambulance, which slides to a stop in front of them. The door opens and the chubby, affable looking man yells, "Get in!"
 
TMNT-Leoeyes.jpg


BPRD Headquarters
Colorado


Donatello sits in front of a computer, monitoring the Earth's surface using BPRD satellites. It was a slow night at the Bureau, and secretly he was wishing he was back in New York with his brothers on patrol.

He enjoys his life here with the BPRD, and has learned more about the paranormal than he ever could have imagined. But there's something so much more visceral about fighting to protect normal people and put away some bad guys.

Sure, he gets to do that here with Mikey and the rest of the team now and again, but it's rare, and not the same as taking down a bunch of Foot ninjas at once.

Suddenly, something catches Donnie's eye on the screen in front of him. It's a massive spike of energy that disappears for a minute or so before appearing again. The location?

New York City.

He opens up a channel to his brother, hoping he's on patrol tonight, "Hey, bro. How's it going?"

**********

New York

"Donnie!" I say happily as my brother's voice comes over my communicator. It's been a week since I last talked to him or Mikey, and it's great to hear from him. "How are you? Is Mikey there?"

"No, Mike's off with Hellboy doing something," Donnie says, seemingly jealous. Hellboy. The demon that is the BPRD's big gun. I met him briefly when Don and Mike left for their new gig. Seemed like a good guy. Raph and him would be good friends. "Are you on patrol?"

"Of course," I confirm. I want to say more. I want to ask for him to come back. For him and Mike to return to the fold. But I can't. They seem to be enjoying themselves. They'll come back when they're ready.

"Did you just see anything weird a few minutes ago?" Donatello asks curiously. "Any large energy releases, explosions, anything?"

"No," I say unsure of where he's going with this. "Been a quiet night. Why?"

"Just something I picked up on our scanners," he answers. "Keep your eyes open, I'll see what we have here on it. Miss you, bro."

"Miss you too Don. Tell Mike I said hi."

As we hang up, something catches my eye above the alley I'm currently standing in. Three figures jump over it, two seemingly chasing the first. Moving quickly, I spring off the wall to a second story fire escape, then kick off that to reach the fourth floor roof.

Once there, I see the others a few buildings away, and I put into pursuit. The three of them are good. They flow effortlessly over the rooftops, climbing, jumping, and transferring just as easy as I am. They've had training, that's for sure.

At one point, I lose the group, and I back track, finding them to be now, out of my reach, and the two pursuers have caught up with the quarry, and have engaged him.

I rush in to assess the situation, but as I get close, the sight I see takes my breath away. One of the chasers drives a sword through the other man. But the murder isn't what catches me off guard. It's the murderers.

1960sFootNinja.jpg


The Foot.

I go to charge them, but the other tosses shuriken my way, forcing me to draw one of my blades and deflect them away. By the time I've done that, the two ninjas are gone, leaving the dying man.

Rushing over, I pick him up and say, "Hold on, man. I'll get you help."

"La...unf...guerre..." he sputters in pain.

frenchninja.png


"est en route."

**********
BPRD Headquarters

Donatello knocks on the door frame of the director's open office, and Indiana Jones looks up from his work and smiles at the young turtle, "Donnie, come in. What's on your mind?"

"I picked something up on the scanners," he says, handing the data over to the legendary archaeologist. "In New York. A spike of energy followed by a lull, then the exact same spike. I contacted my brother, but he didn't see anything visually that would have given it away."

Donnie knew this wasn't what Jones wanted to hear. Ever since Ogrdu Jahad, they were urging the superhuman community to stay out of the public, including the turtles. Only BPRD agents were allowed to use their powers, but the director often overlooked these things as long as the collateral damage wasn't all that high.

He looks at the data and nods, "I'll make some calls and look into it. Thanks for the tip."

Donatello excuses himself and leaves the office, as Jones picks up his phone and makes a call, "It's Jones. I think we had a jump in and out of New York. You may want to make a note of it."

**********

New York

I climb back into April's apartment after anonymously calling the police about the dead Frenchman, and call out, "Anyone awake?"

"In here," I hear April answers form the living room. I enter to find her sitting by a reading light with a Kindle on her lap. I give her a curious look, "You know I can't sleep when you're out there by yourself." I then look over at the couch as Casey snores away, "He obviously is more comfortable with it. What's going on?"

I explain to her the happenings of the night, and her face turns to one of worry quickly, "The Foot? You're sure it was them?"

"I'd know them anywhere, April," I respond. "It was them. Why and how, I don't know. But I'll figure out later. I'm more interested in what the other guy said. The French dude. 'La unf guerre est en route'. Any idea what that means?"

"Well...my French is a bit rusty...but I'm pretty sure it roughly means 'War is coming'."

**********

In the American West, an armor clad warrior rides a motorcycle at a high speed down a dark, dusty road with only the moon light and the bike's headlight to illuminate his path. The signs of his destination pass now and again, and eventually it springs up on the horizon.

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The ugly urban sprawl brings a smile to Raphael's face. It was here that he'd get the action he craved. The place was infamous for it. And he would clean it up. He would be it's hero.

As he passes under the entrance sign, he smiles again, ready for what's ahead.

The sign reads BASIN CITY.
 
Banner.jpg

Even while merely making our approach to the planet, all of the ship's crew could feel the air of death around the once great and powerful Cybertron. I can see the chill run down Cyclonus' framework. Out of all of my colleagues, I would have thought that he would have the struts to maintain composure at the sight of our old home on the viewscreen. Still, I cannot bring myself to blame him for being taken aback. Even I feel myself boiling with barely contained rage.

"Sensors, Scourge?" I ask my science officer.

"Nothing, sir. Cybertron is devoid of lifesigns."

Concern for Cybertronian life now overwhelms my sense of anger at what has become of the planet. "Planetary evacuation, perhaps? Are there any distress beacons or indications of the cause for Cybertron's lifelessness?"

"One moment," replies Scourge as he does a more in depth sensor scan. "There are radical radiation spikes sweeping the entire planet's surface, as well as intense seismic instability. I'm also seeing hundreds of distress beacons, but they've all been degraded from Cybertron's radiation."

"Not everyone escaped in time." I begin making my way off of the bridge and towards the nearest airlock. "Straxus, take us into orbit. The Ark should be safe from harm." As the pilot does as he's told, Cyclonus grabs my arm as if to ask where I'm going. "I have to see this for myself."

Within moments, I've found an airlock and made my exit to descend to the planet's surface on my own. The radiation can't harm me, and the quakes are of no concern. Landing safely in Kaon, my footfalls echo eerily over the planetwide silence and I can only sneer in disgust. This was once a bristling hub of ideas and inspiration for generations! And now the torn streets are lined with piles and piles of bodies, and some of them are even arranged as though they were intended to supply cover from gunfire. There was battle here, and it was especially brutal on both sides of the fight.

No, it wasn't just a battle. This was a war.

That's when I see it for the first time. One of two different types of crest that I would later discover all over Cybertron, representing those responsible for this apocalypse.

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1zvpetz.png




Previously

Centauri 8
2267

"What happened here?" Lincoln asked from behind the Doctor. The TARDIS was sitting on the turquoise colored beach of Centauri 8 while the Doctor and Lincoln looked out across the plant's amber colored water. Across the sea was the smoldering ruins of a city. Smoke curled up into the air and overcast purple tinted sun.

"Something horrible," the Doctor said with a sigh. They had been on the planet for hours now, surveying the ruins. The Doctor knew something wasn't right from the moment they stepped out the TARDIS. Centauri 8 was a resort planet, a place for interstellar tourist to come and kick back their heels. Now, it was nothing but burnt husks and cinders. Just an hour earlier they had come across a gruesome sight. Millions of dead bodies, all of them from different races, all of them dropped into a massive pit in the ground.

"There are usually ten billion people on this planet. We only saw about three or four million dead bodies."

"Where are the rest?"

"I think I know," the Doctor said as he began to pace on the sand. "Those dead, did you notice anything? Anything at all? They all seemed to have one thing in common."

"Now that you mention it," Lincoln said, scratching his beard. "The humans I saw, most of them were old."

"Exactly! All of those killed were elderly, disabled, or sickly. They were..unusable. That tells me a lot things. This moment in time, this part of space. Only one people it can be..."

The Doctor trailed off and turned to look at Lincoln.

"Oh, Abe. What have I done? I took you halfway across the galaxy, four hundred years in the future, and for what? To bring you right back to where you were."

"What exactly do you mean," Lincoln asked with a scowl.

"The people on this planet, the ones who were able-bodied were kidnapped for one reason: slavery. They were kidnapped by an organization who specializes in the practice of slavery."

Lincoln's face went slack and emotionless. Even though he knew nothing of this planet or its peoples and customs, the very thought of people this far into the future still practicing the vile practice of slavery boiled his blood.

"What's our next move?"

"We follow the trail," the Doctor said as he started to walk to the TARDIS. "The ships they would need to transport that many people off-world, they will leave energy trails. We follow them to whatever place they've taken the people and tourists of Centauri 8."

Lincoln followed behind the Doctor. "And then what?" He asked.

The Doctor stopped in front of the TARDIS and looked back at Lincoln. The Doctor looked Lincoln up and down before he opened the TARDIS' door. "And then? We introduce the Great Emancipator to the Orion Syndicate. The hard way."


Horseshoe Nebula

[YT]T-oQlNDzZss[/YT]


Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor ran around the TARDIS' control panel as the ship shook and rocked. He looked up at the monitor on the console and watched the display on the screen.

"And we're here," the Doctor announced to Lincoln as the TARDIS stopped shaking. Lincoln stood up from his seat and walked over to the TARDIS control panel.

"Where are we, Doctor?"

"A space station the Orion Syndicate use as a regional hub, a clearing house. They've got the population of Centauri 8 here and they're splitting them up to go to other regions of the galaxy. They'll be spread all across space, sold into slavery by the Syndicate and the people they work for. Some nine billion slaves. That is, unless we stop them."

"Well," Lincoln said. "What are we waiting for?"

The Doctor led the way out the TARDIS. They came out the door and into a dark hallway. The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the area around them. "We're down in the engineering deck of the space station. We need to go about fifteen decks up to the bridge."

He checked the readout on the screwdriver before putting it back into his pocket. "We're in luck. Most of the guards are away from this area."

"You said there were billions of people kidnapped," Lincoln said as he looked around. "With those many people, how many guards are there?"

"We're in luck. Most of this is operating by automation. There are only about a hundred thousand syndicate members and associates aboard this ship."

"A hundred thousand against two?"

"Hardly seems fair," the Doctor said with a smirk. "Perhaps we should wait for them to bring more people. Now, come on!"

The Doctor and Lincoln made their way out the engineering deck and up two decks before they heard voices approaching from the other end of the hallway.

"Are we going the right way?"

"Dammit, man, I'm not a navigator!"

"This way," the Doctor whispered to Lincoln.

They ducked into a side room and right into a large Orion male.

"Hello," the Doctor said. "Wonder if you'd help me out. We're a bit lost. Told my friend here I wanted to by some slade. He thought I said slaves. Funny mix up, isn't it?"
The green skinned alien grabbed the Doctor by the shoulders and tossed him across the room. The Doctor slammed against the wall and fell to the floor.

"Well, that's just rude," he groaned under his breath.

While the Doctor recovered, Lincoln struck out at the Orion. He struck the alien with a hard jab to the cheek. The Orin swung and Lincoln ducked, coming up with a solid uppercut that knocked the Orion back. The Orion quickly recovered and punched Lincoln in the stomach. Lincoln groaned but struck out and struck the Orion with a left hook to his nose. A solid pop followed the blow and the Orion reached for his nose. While he was in pain, Lincoln dropped the alien with a powerful haymaker that took him to the floor.

"Are you alright?" Lincoln asked as he helped the Doctor up.

"Fine," he said as he brushed his shoulders. "Just my pride."

The door leading into the room opened and three figures stepped in.

"Good God," one of the men said. "It's him. Again."

"You are a sight for sore eyes, Doctor." The leader of the group said.

"Yes...and you lot would be?"

"You don't remember us?"

"Not the foggiest. You know me, though. I suppose that counts for something."

"Don't forget, Jim, he's a time traveler."

"Yes. He told us that our first meeting with him was his second meeting with us. It would appear our timelines are out of sync."

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"Fascinating..."
 

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