So, what is this exactly? Something borrowed and something new? Yes!

So while writing the original Black Bayou, I kind of wrote myself into a corner and kind of left it alone. Then a couple of years ago, I came up with this idea for a story where a catastrophic hurricane happens that turns the people who stayed behind into monsters, but they're nice monsters who don't want to scare anybody and just want to go about their business

And then I borrowed the name of the lead of the original Black Bayou and it kind of cemented it, to me at least, that this could be something better

Chapter 3: Colonial Discharge
(With apologies to A Split Second)

It was quiet in the boarding house where Tilly lived, but that's how she wanted it. After all, she had a ritual to perform. With a stick of chalk, she drew a circle of brute arcane force that would beckon a creature of otherworldly origin into her being. She would hallucinate much like her tribal ancestors did when they needed guidance. But her ways, in these modern times, were very different. Shamans/Mambos were incredibly common in New Orleans, why you could almost trip over one in any direction on your way to a coffee shop. Still and calm, she mouthed a chant repeatedly, thinking of wild horses roaming the untamed plains of the old west and a torrent of ocean waves crashing over her like the flood that changed them all.

She opened her eyes and she was in a void of black light falling helplessly down a shaft of intense air. She saw images of her people slaughtered, indoctrinating the children into their ways so that they could become who they were meant to, their wild cries as people proud and free, unaware of their bleak future. The future was not kind of the chosen people of the earth.

Faster and faster downwards she fell, still propelled by that same intense force of air until she landed at the bottom, in some sort of bog rife with creatures both old and strange to propagate it. She had come, willingly or otherwise, to the fabric of reality that permeates the brainspace with wondrous and beautiful thoughts (and sometimes the inverse) called The Dream Web.

Where it came from no one was certain, but it was surmised that it had always been there driving people in the subtlest of ways towards their dreams, their innermost passions. In the bog, amongst the trees and ruins of palaces and ships, she saw her lover. She ran to him and embraced him, covering herself in his muck of algae and roots. His being poured into hers.

In another life, his name was Clive Manis, a popular writer of horror. One day, in the dead of night, while penning another terrifying piece of poignant prose, his inner demons (not just the ones on the page) took hold of him and turned him into one of them. His body died, but his soul and mind were transported to the Dream Web and woven anew by the mysterious Cult of the Shroud who worshiped dreams and forged new ones daily. "It as good as always to see you Summer's Willow," spake one of the cult. He lifted his hood and showed an aged Roman face that seemed to be chiseled out of marble," I see that you have already said your 'hellos' to Mr. Manis or what remains of him." Tilly squeezed Clive's muck infested fingers a little tighter, "It's good to see you too Apollo." "What brings you before us this eve?"

Tilly described her vision to Apollo that she had had a few nights ago that had haunted her sleepless nights and waking hours. It was of her, James, and Harris helplessly watching a gigantic and sinister creature wreck havoc on the Bayou and cause another flood.

Apollo pondered the dream, his feet damp from the bog water, "This creature, does it have a name?" Tilly nodded and mouthed the words,"Boaz Of Nautilus". Apollo's normally still face was suddenly awash with a fervent fear. With a loud stomp of his staff into the swamp, Apollo created a portal to the true domain of the Shroud where the Dream Web lay in earnest, a paradise not unlike that of heaven itself. Clive and Tilly followed closely behind, still hand in hand, Clive's thoughts seeping into her own as he could no longer speak since his rebirth.

Moving through the lush grass, Apollo sat down on a large rock and beckoned the two to join him. "There are tales of a special blade that was sunk into the earth's crust after a great and terrible war among the stars. Where it is, no one knows and lesser men have sacrificed their lives in vain in order to find it. It is called the Hellsbane. It is a dangerous weapon, and will render it's owner's very soul unto the blackest pits of the netherworld. If your dream is true as you say Summer's Willow, then we are in mortal peril. For that means that it's true suitor had finally rejoined the living. You worry for another flood? Think of it three or even four times over. Absolute chaos not seen since the days of Pompeii, I know, I was there..."

"Is there anything we can do to stop it Apollo?" Apollo nodded, clutching his staff," Yes, our savior comes not from the northern star, but will have a branding of the cosmos on his or her wrist. He or she has the power to wield the Stargale, a powerful blade of absolute purity and light. Find them and your world may yet be saved Summer's Willow. I must go now, to tend to my flock of would be dreamers. But I leave you knowing that you have great potential to nurture this planet and save us."

"Then we need to find them. Shouldn't be that hard to do right? Tune into some great shifting of the cosmos or something?" Tilly said, Clive's thoughts pouring into her mind like a cold pitcher of water. "I think I can try if you want,"Clive said,"somebody that pure should be easy to track, I wouldn't be surprised if our enemies were doing that already." Tilly, tired from worry, laid her head on Clive's soggy shoulder, and closed her eyes. Slowly, she felt herself being pulled back into our reality but with Clive joining her. With a loud gasp, she was back but she felt different. With every breath she took, a large stream of gas emerged. Was she full of dreams or was she chaos incarnate?

She looked down and saw that most of her body had been wrapped in some sort of moss, alluding to the fact that Clive was a part of her as a Loa, a shadow spirit. Her first job was to create some kind of tuning fork that would be able to track and find this supposed chosen one. She thought about making one for the wielder of the Hellsbane too, so that she could end their life as quickly as it started. But then she thought, that wouldn't solve anything and they would just reincarnate yet again, maybe 10 or 20 years down the road and the whole mess would just reiterate upon itself.

She took a mound of clay and shaped it into a ball, chiseled some glyphs into it and then she let it harden in the oven. After it baked, it lacked any significant kind of potency, so she breathed the strange gas that lurked inside her onto it. It turned a soft white color and started to glow. She got dressed proper and left the boarding house. It was now night time, approximately 9:30 to be exact. Since letting Clive inside her, Tilly had become drastically more aware of, well, everything. It was strange but also incredibly elating. She could feel the air swirling around her, her body acting as kind of a nexus point for the elements. She felt like they were guiding her, protecting her. Not that she already didn't feel safe enough with Clive as her Loa. She took the clay orb out of her jacket pocket, which still felt warm, and let it guide her.

She walked through the calm streets with light traffic and few passersby. Most of them were headed down town to frolic in the clubs and curio shops, so Tilly wasn't worried so much about her aura. She traveled further down towards the pier and it was pointing in the direction James' houseboat,"Great," Tilly muttered," as if he needed more of an ego boost." She trudged down the dock and boarded, lightly tapping on the door. "It's open," James called out and he was very much surprised to see Tilly, "Well hi lady, what do I owe the pleasure." "You got time for a long ass story?" She replied, James nodded. She then proceeded to relay the events of the previous few hours. James never questioned, just listened. "What, so you think I'm the wielder of this cosmic sword that'll vanquish evil?" "More or less, Apollo told me that the wielder should have the branding of the cosmos or so approximation there of on their wrist." James shook his head, "it ain't me Tilly." "Well the orb I forged pointed here, so it has to be you. Didn't you say that you had a weird rash on your hand as a kid?" "Well," he coughed,"I'm not the only one in here.." "Who else is...?" Before she could finish her sentence, Johnny Wuu emerged from the toilet,"Damn James, you got any air freshener? Really blew up your toilet man, sorry," Johnny noticed Tilly,"Oh, hello. James, who's the skirt?" James facepalmed, "Tilly St. Claire meet Johnny Wuu, henceforth destroyer of toilets and savior of the universe..."

Chapter 5- Can't Happen Here
(With apologies to Stabbing Westward)

The days seemed to pass effortlessly to the people that encompassed the Black Bayou. Almost as soon as they had left Mass, it was time for it again. James, Tilly, and Harris joined each other much the same way as they always had. At Garrison's, they finally decided to talk about the things that had been going on and how the powers behind them seemed to be working together behind it almost in like they were in a deadly alliance with one another. Johnny had joined them for breakfast since they were all seemingly apart of this.

"So, what do we do?," Johnny said, snacking on bits of bacon, "I think I'm the biggest one that's startled by all this. I mean the other day I was a comfortably retired action star. Then all this Combine stuff hits on top of all the interdimensional 'sword of truth' malarkey." Harris nodded, "I know, I'm not sure what to make of it either. I'm getting the feeling that Combine paraphernalia might be what's causing people to turn into the weremonsters. I don't see how it could be an isolated incident."

Johnny warmed his hands with the mug of coffee," And if that Boaz of Nautilus character really is behind all of this, I'm kind of afraid. I've heard whispers of him in the past when I tangled with the Combine when I was in special ops, but not the whole story." Suddenly, a portal opened and out stepped Apollo, "I believe, Mr. Riedmeyer, that I might be able to offer a fresh perspective on the topic if you would be so kind as to follow me." "Sure why not? I've always depended on the kindness of strangers." "Don't mind Johnny Apollo," Tilly said, woofing down a patty melt and fries,"while he's very enlightened, he doesn't quite understand the Dream Web. Not yet anyway."

Apollo nodded," Mr. Riedmeyer, I assure you that you have nothing to fear from me or what I represent. I seek only to prepare you for what is to come." Apollo motioned to Tilly and the three of them followed closely in toe. Apollo tapped the tiled floor of Garrison's and another portal appeared, he motioned for Johnny to step through and with nothing to lose, he did. He, along with James, Tilly, and Harris, soon were in the paradise that was the Dream Web with fields of grass that seemed to stretch forever and pink, purple, and blue skies. It was peaceful and serene and took Johnny completely by surprise. "Is... is this heaven?" Apollo laughed watching Tilly, James, and Harris romp around like carefree children,"No Mr. Riedmeyer, though some have called it that. As I understand it, we are somewhere in the very recesses in the shared consciousness of the human mind where thoughts, ideas, and dreams themselves are born and sometimes nightmares, though those are incredibly rare. We call this, much like Summer's Willow told you, the Dream Web."

"Well, whatever it is, it's beautiful. Peaceful even." "The mind often hungers for comfort from the modern world mr. Riedmeyer," Apollo said," and here in the DreamWeb, we try our hardest to give it to them. To train the willing and able to ward off the bad inclinations of terrors beyond human comprehension, that is the goal of The Cult Of Shroud and their personal warriors, the Centurion Nouveau. But for the moment, let's discuss your role in all of this. While I'm not entirely sure what Summer's Willow has told you, I'm sure that you wouldn't mind if I began at the beginning." With a flick of his wrist, Apollo created a small viewing orb in the palm of his hand. "It all started well before the dawn of mankind in galaxies yet undiscovered by your people. It began with a sentient, symbiotic organism called Visceri. It played amongst itself in the darkness. However, a part of it was not so easily contented. It called itself Boaz. Eventually, it tried to poison the hivemind with it's own toxic ideologies. And in doing so, it was cast out. Freed, Boaz set about entertaining it's own interests. It created the heavens and the stars as well as the people that inhabited them. All seemed peaceful, but Boaz being of a chaotic nature, he set into motion the destruction of the many galaxies. He caused war, famine, and death. He would do this, extinguish everything, then start again; searching in vain for some sort of x-factor to keep himself interested. Eventually, the Visceri caught wind of what Boaz was up to and thankfully put a stop to it. It was in awe of what Boaz accomplished; a living, breathing universe. An outcast no longer, Boaz was welcomed back into the hivemind. But Boaz was still as cunning and cruel as ever. He infected himself with a plague that he himself had become immune to, but the other Visceri had not. In it's brief minglings with what I'm sure the Visceri would consider lesser beings, they learned that Boaz had created a world that was scientifically advanced, but also horribly backwards in ideologies. Boaz had created a sword infected with the same virus that could cause the entire universe to cease. That was Boaz's X-Factor. So the Visceri, what remained of it anyway, visited the planet in earnest. It stayed the war of two ruling families and blessed one with a small branding of the cosmos on the wrist of the wife that would be passed down from mother to child for generations to come. And that was the last of what I was told in my time amongst ancient cults in Macedonia."
Johnny pondered a moment, the branding on his wrist throbbing, "So, where does this leave me Apollo?"
"Sadly, for some reason Mr. Riedmeyer, you have been both blessed and cursed to lead your home into a new era of prosperity or suffer the fate of what became of the Visceri and the people that they tried in vain to shield from absolute evil. Because nothing, save you, can stop the onslaught of the most terrible evil in all the known galaxies. I would like you to stay here to train with someone who knows the power of the power of the Stargale better than even I do," a large, imposing, muck-encrusted shadow loomed over them both, "I believe you're familiar with the works of a Mr. Clive Manis?" Like being doused in a bucket of cold water , Johnny could feel another consciousness intermingling with his own "Hello Mr. Wuu," Clive said, extending a mossy hand to Johnny,"let me just say that I'm a very big fan of yours." "Pleasure's mine Clive, Cellars Of Blood kept me up for weeks." The world around them seemed to fade to black. Slowly, methodically, Clive was pulling Johnny into his own dreamspace that vaguely resembled the swamp where both he and Tily had consecrated their love for one another on numerous occasions. The swamp water, up to Johnny's ankles, was about the consistently of a warm, muddy slurry. But Johnny was well traveled and had been in the unforgiving climate of Vietnam and this was no different.

Johnny could feel his wrist throbbing, the branding was calling to him. He touched it and suddenly a wave of intense energy sprouted from within his arm and created something resembling a Kendo stick. "Interesting," Clive murmured, "I guess the Stargale really is different for everybody." Johnny played with it, it was almost like a living organism, an extension of himself. "So, Clive, what do you know about the Stargale?" Another burst of light boomed and Clive was also armed with a weapon,"About as much as Apollo told you. My history with it is, well, rather grim. I was up late one night working on a story when I felt, well, I guess you could call it a prodding to start writing something else. For 36 hours, in a mental state beyond my own, I wrote a tapestry of the cosmos. It was sort of like a code book I think to tap into the power of the Stargale and make it my own. I almost had it, with every key stroke, the branding became clearer on my wrist. But then, something happened, all of the sudden this intense wall of blackness enveloped me and, well, I died and woke up here. From what Apollo surmised, I'm guessing I was deemed 'unworthy' by the greater cosmic forces. I trained with the Centurion Nouveau for a bit and that's how I was able to summon this energy sword and create my own personal space in the Dreamweb. Trust me, the mental energy you need to achieve both is humbling. So," Clive said, chopping down a thick wall of vines on a nearby tree, "shall we get started?"

Meanwhile, back in the Dreamweb, Tily, James, and Haris laid in the grass as a cool spring breeze passed by, pondering what to do next. James saw the Centurion Nouveau practicing in the distance and was curious as to how such feats could be achieved. "They're very welcoming you know," Tily said, trying to cover a large belch,"I'm sure they'd see no reason for you not to join them." "Are their powers limited to the Dreamweb?" "That I can't answer for sure. I think so?" Apollo appeared beside them, which startled James,"Dream power is the strongest ability in the universe. Stronger than your vampirism, young James, stronger than your years of training with Mr. Riedmeyer. If you wish to aid Mr. Riedmeyer in the coming days, I would implore you to intermingle with the Centurion Nouveau. What they can do is beyond mere description. It done with a beauty rivaling that of the martial arts." Apollo didn't need to say anything more, James' curiosity was in full bloom. James approached cautiously, as the Nouveau were seated, meditating around a large yellow pulsating crystal. The tiny gems on their foreheads also gleaming, feeding the large crystal with their own energies. One, a woman, could sense James and turned to look at James. She was a very beautiful, roughly about James' age. She offered him a seat beside her. They meditated together, and slowly James' could feel his consciousness dissipating from his body, crossing the multitude of dimensions of the mindspace of the Dreamweb. The woman, who called herself Kalia, greeted him as a mother would a child. Personally, James felt sick from the present sense weightlessness and was trying hard not to vomit. Kalia laughed,"Don't worry, you're not the first to experience that and I'm sure you won't be the last." "Where are we exactly?" "The crossroads of the mindspace were everything intersects with one another. Worlds upon worlds. Here we can go anywhere. But I'm curious though, why did you want to join us?" James tried to steady himself before he responded. He could feel something pulsating in his head, he was sure it was Kalia reading his mind. "You've experience a great deal of pain James," she said, helping him learn to hover in the mindspace,"especially at such a young age. I couldn't imagine it." James nodded, unsure of the true intention of her sympathies. Almost instantly, they had jumped into James' mind. And James was face to face with himself on that day, the day the hurricane came and blotted out his whole life like a painter correcting a mistake. James was alone in the blackness of his room, listening to horrible sounds coming from outside. He couldn't sleep. His father had reassured him, his mother, and his little sister earlier that it wouldn't be anything worth worrying about. That the people on the news and the officials were just making a lot of fuss over nothing. With a thundercrack, the huge oak tree outside slammed into the house, killing his mother, father, and sister instantly. James was, even now, unsure how he survived. Maybe it was fate? Who really knew. But other people were displaced as well, and they descended on the local church through rivers of toxic, polluted water for safety. The preacher and deacon, both Irish immigrants, had never seen anything like it. If there was a God that day, he turned a blind eye to the suffering that had occurred and no man or woman of faith could change that opinion. Tears, endless and strong, streamed down James' face. He had relived this moment hundreds of times, almost to the point of numbness, but seeing it play out in front of him just opened up something very raw within him. "Can," James said meekly,"can we stop this please?" Kalia agreed and they exited the mindspace of the Dreamweb. James was immediately thrown back into his own body and threw up a strange, cascading rainbow substance. "Interesting," Kalia said, helping James up from the deep meditation, "I've never seen a non-Nouveau throw up dreamstuff before. Usually it only happens when our ethereal bodies die or become injured." James said nothing, he was still unsteady and unsure.

In the nearby field, Harris and Tilly were playing a game of catch with the white clay orb that Tilly had manifested earlier. "You still think about him," Harris asked causally," don't you?" "Who?" "You know who" "What? James? Maybe when we were younger I guess," Tilly replied pensively," I think when you're as young and close as we were, love kind of confusingly manifests itself. James is still too much of an overgrown child. Not that we're much better." Harris pitched the orb back to Tilly "True" "And well, me and Clive are sort of an item. Who'd have thought I'd trade in a relationship with mortal men for a dead swamp monster who haunts people's dreams?" "Stranger things have happened. I mean, look at us. Twisted creations of god and man, pollution and surging water." "And what's weirder is that I've been getting all these strange food cravings lately. Like I'm..." Harris finished the sentence "Pregnant?"
"Oh god, you think so? But how though?" "Simple, didn't you say that you had physically bonded for a little bit when you took Clive on as your Loa?" "But..." Harris nodded and Tilly looked down and saw her once slim physique blooming into womanhood, confused to what a muck monster and creature of the night could possibly sire.

Back in Clive's dreamspace, Johnny and Clive were pushing the Stargale and the Nouveau approximation to it's absolute limits. The two swords crackled with intense energy, both their wielders panting. They had been going for three hours straight, a sense of urgency and personal liberation in their strikes. With one deliberate, precise maneuver Johnny swung the Stargale with such force that a loud thunderclap that split Clive's reality wide open. "Well," Johnny said, the blackness fading backwards into the perpetual purple sunset of the Dreamweb,"didn't expect that to happen." Johnny helped up Clive out of the mucky water that somehow remained and noticed that Clive couldn't stop laughing "We did it Johnny, we did it!" "And what did we do exactly?" "We conquered the very fabric of reality. We unlocked the true potential of the Stargale." And then, Johnny started laughing too, and he had no idea why. The two of them dancing around like happy idiots. It Apollo approached the two of them with a wide smile,"Mr. Riedmeyer, Mr. Manis, I congratulate the two of you for your work today. You have conquered the fabric of the mind and the body with your dedication. But be warned, with this power comes a cautious responsibility to one's own self. The Black Lotus have made themselves a very dangerous enemy this day, more so than in the past. I wish you well on your journey Mr. Riedmeyer." And with that, Johnny, James, Tilly, and Harris were back in Garrison's like nothing had happened "Sir!," a waitress shouted,"Sir!" "Yes?!," Johnny piped up,"Can't you see thay we're having a meeting here?" "A meeting of what? All I see is a bunch of lifeless corpses. I was just asking you folks if you wanted some more coffee. Hopefully it'll get whatever drugs you kids have been on out of your system. Bunch of absolute space cases I tell yah." The waitress walked off and all of them started laughing hysterically, though none knew why.

Chapter 6: Lullaby
(with apologies to The Cure)

Killian Bradford had been dreaming again. Pensive, black dreams of hellfire and damnation, great and terrible wars and the creatures in them with unhonorable intentions . These were the kind of dreams not fit for his ilk, a being of pure demonspawn. They filled him with the kind of existential dread only a terrified child could know. And when he saught solace in his parents, he received less than what he felt like he needed. His mother coddled him like a helpless baby shushing away his worries, his father distant, yet scholarly, thinking in abstractions rather than pure reason. Both complete opposites of a whole. Being well over six thousand years old, at least as a demon, it was infuriating to be talked down to like this. His father's friends, his kinsmen, we were far more open to his plight. "Aye remember when I first met yer mother lad," Kilroy said, puffing away on a hooka," yer father had been telepathically enraptured by her charms, if you even wanna call them that, and walked over a hundred miles like a man possessed in the pouring rain to meet her. I'm not sure if it was really love outta something like that Cher movie Moonstruck, but they seemed well suited to each other. Anyway, where was I going with this?...Ah! Yer mom was as pagan as they came and had visions often. It's probably best if you locked yourself away fer a spell, light sum candles and go into a deep trance." Killian heeded Kilroy's advice. Within the hour, Killian was alone with a tall glass of Big Shot Root Beer, flickering candles and a beautiful serene silence. The machinations of his mind churned, images flashing by like still frame photographs thrown into a paper shredder. Whatever force had him was slowly sucking him into this vile pit of darkness and despair. Here long steel chains enraptured a body of pure illuminated blackness. The creature's skin looked rough and jagged like that of an alligator's, even though the form resembled something somewhat human. Still able to feel his corporal body, Killian took a long sip of the skunky smelling soft drink, still keeping his third eye on the creature. With all the innocence of a rabid dog, Killian asked the creature a question,"Who are you? Are you the one that's been polluting my mind with these visions?" The creature, though in eternal pain and anguish, laughed,"So, I have finally found someone who can free me from these infernal chains that bind me. Do you realize how long I've been trapped in this place? Since long before you were a whisper amongst the stars themselves boy." "Who are you?," Killian asked further. "That's a question in of itself itsn't it boy?,"the creature replied,"I am the star dog, the bane of a thousand worlds, killer of galaxies, and devourer of lost sheep. I have no true name pronounceable to human tongue, but I am often spoken of as Boaz of Nautilus. What are you called boy? So that I might know the name of my savior." Killian took another sip,"I am Killian Bradford, sired in the hills of the west andes by a mother who fornicated with the same vampire that took her life. Before I took human guise, I was a lowly demon that was not worth mentioning. What makes me think I'll free you Boaz Of Nautilus?" Boaz cackled with his bruised lips and with impossibly sharp teeth, he cut into the silence that permeated his world,"Because boy, we are inexplicably linked like twins in the womb. You are the one chosen to free me from this hellscape. You have doubts about yourself and the world you inhabit. I can aide you in the respect. I have watched your galaxy since it's inception when my hand forced the demise of the old one. I am by no means a scholar, merely a thief of information. The things I could tell you boy would split your very mind in two."

Knowing that Boaz would only torment his mind further, Killian gave in,"What do I need to do?" Boaz smiled a deep smile laced with devious intent,"There is a sword deep in the bowels of the House Of Usher. Bring it to me." "But what do you need with a sword?" "GET IT!!!" Boaz snarled, the trance was broken, and Killian gasped loudly, awake to this new reality. There was a knock on the door and in stepped his adoptive, earth emissary mother, Patricia,"Killian sweetheart, is everything alright? I spoke with Morgan and he said you might be in here." "Mom, is there a sword somewhere in the house?" "Sword?," Patricia replied, startled by his question,"You'll have to be more specific darling, the ones you and your father duel with?" "No," Killian said, shaking his head,"another one. It's a two pronged sword with a black hilt about this big." Killian motioned with his hands to about two feet in in length. Patricia sighed deeply,"Killian, you're asking a very dangerous question that I don't think you want the answer to. That sword, the one that, god bless him, engulfed your father in flames, is like a terrible curse. I don't want that burden on you. I'm sure your father told you about it, right?" Killian shook his head and Patricia sat down beside him. She went into the long and storied history of the universe from what little of it she knew and could comprehend. Killian sat there listening thoughtfully. He didn't feel like himself since he spoke with the creature called Boaz, his third eye pulsating and throbbing violently. Something dark awoke within Killian and he lunged at his adoptive mother,"Silly cow, how little you truly know. A disciple of Gaia?! Don't make me laugh. The earth has been without a voice for eons. What you probably heard was me shouting for my freedom." Killian left the room and went down the hall and knocked on the door of Doctor Jonathan Valquish, his father. A hand of forged steel clasped the door as gently as it could, and opened it."Killian," Valquish asked,"is everything alright?" Killian ignored him and barged right in, digging through everything to find the sword,"Valquish where is the sword? The one you brazenly took from me in defiance of our pact?" Valquish's eyes lowered, he knew who masquerading as Killian was now," You old fool, there was no pact. What could I possibly owe a demon? One who could kill me with but a thought?" "You fiend! You agreed to free me in exchange for the answers to eternal life! And then you stole my sword, my life's work. And I here I believed the English were people of honor. But no more! With this child of demons in my control, I will be invincible!" "Leave Killian out of this you fowl abomination!" Valquish took a vile of whatever he was currently brewing and threw it on Killian. It was Holy Water laced with Silver. Within seconds Killian, or what was left of him, was writhing on the floor. His skin burned off completely and what was left was the smell of burning, rotting flesh. Killian's skin was now a solid, illuminated black, razor sharp and jagged. The darling child of Moritem and Valquish was no more, only Boaz Of Nautilus remained. This new being only smiled wickedly. From what remained of Killian's third eye, the creature called Boaz Of Nautilus, through much pain and suffering, pulled out the sword of destruction, The Helsbane. Boaz swung at Valquish, shattering priceless antiquities. The steel chassis of Valquish's body, though indeed strong, was not invulnerable. With a slash, the Helsbane cut through the forged metal suit like a knife through butter. Valquish screamed in agony as the eternal fires that encompassed him spewed forth, completely setting the room ablaze. Patricia, armed with Kilroy and Hutch, entered just as Valquish was slashed in half.

In another room, Boaz called to his servant. Having been maimed by a snarling black creature previously, Mr. Tyler was susceptible to Boaz's whims, "Sebastian Tyler. Awake and aid your master." Like a man possessed, Sebastian Tyler did as he was told and came running on all fours like a beat in the night. As he was rushing past though, his gait caught the attention of an eldritch being in a small mason jar who was also attuned to his master's voice, Kazhar Thumak. "Sebastian Tyler!" Tyler didn't hear him and kept on galloping along,"Tyler, you fool! Take me with you! Surely I can aid the master more than you!" But his Master's voice was within him, and Sebastian Tyler balked at such an alliance, "Kazhar Thumak, you dunce. There was a reason I cast you off into the limbo of the Dreamspace. A creature who possesses houses? Whatever was I thinking? No, you got what you deserved and you should be grateful that you got as far as you did with the Nightbeings." Sebastian Tyler then picked up the jar and flung it into the primordial fire that was Johnathan Valquish. A wailing scream that could pierce the very night's air came from the little creature as he writhed and cooked before shriveling up like a dead crustacean. Then came the endgame, Boaz Of Nautilus lept from Killian Bradford's body and into that of Sebastian Tyler's. But, try as he might, the Helsbane did not travel with him. The sword had it's wielder in Killian and did not seek another master. The boy was still susceptible to Boaz's influences thankfully. Within seconds, Hutch's ethereal flute summoned the spirits of the House Of Usher, shadows that clung to the walls and protected it from exactly the type of people that Boaz Of Nautilus represented. The howling of a hundred trillion wild animals came from their gaping maws as they lunged at Boaz under the guise of Sebastian Tyler. Boaz smiled a deep, sinister grin and with a whisper, he turned Killian against them with the might of the Helsbane. The more the shadows persisted, the more Killian slashed. All the while Johnathan Valquish still burned on. Patricia Mortiem had a decision to make, extinguish her beloved and let her precious boy leave or try and save them both and let the House Of Usher burn.

Patricia, with tears in her eyes, motioned for Hutch to cease blowing on the ethereal flute. Boaz grinned and leapt through a nearby stained glass window with Killian closely in toe. From within his jacket, Hutch pulled out the the only thing that would stop Valquish's eternal flame, a bucket of special soot and ash. Hutch threw it on Valquish and instantly the flames stopped. What was left of the enterally smoldering man was not much worth looking at. Very raw, very rough skin, hairless and covered in blisters.

When he finally awoke, Johnathan gasped loudly. "Killian!," he asked, coughing from the soot and ash,"Where's Killian?!" Patricia, still a mess, did not answer. "I regret to inform you Doctor Valquish," Hutch piped up,"that young master Killian is no longer amongest us." "The bastard took him Johnathan!,"Patricia screamed,"The bastard possessed our baby boy and then ran away with him like a theif in the night! And I just sat there and watched him do it! There was nothing I could do!" She collasped into Johnathan's arms, broken hearted at her choice. The look of raw, heated anger on Valquish's face was palpable. He thrust open the cellar door and entered his arms room, filled to the brim with all the weaponry and armor that could ever hope to sustain him. "Kilroy!," he shouted, fastening his belt,"you're with me!" "Alright mate," Kilroy said, rubbing his hands together,"suits me fine." "Johnathan, where or Earth are you going?" "To find the boy, Patricia. It's my fault he got into this mess and it's only fair that I get him back." "But Johnathan, you're still weak. I won't have you trapezing the whole damn world looking for our child when you're too damn stubborn to notice that you haven't got the strength in you." This was all too true, with his flame extinguished, Johnathan Valquish was useless. It would take time to rekindle and it was time he didn't have. He slumped down in a nearby chair and silently pondered his next move. "Kilroy," he murmured,"I want you and Hutch to scout the Bayou as much as you can. I doubt that fiend could have gotten far. And none of your regular roguish tricks, I don't want to read about you dangling some poor soul over a pier for information, understood?" Kilroy nodded and patted Hutch's jacket with the back of his hand and the two were off. Patricia crawled into Johnathan's lap,"Oh Johnathan, what are we going to do?" "I'm just as worried as you are Patricia, but we have to bide our time with the boys and hope that Killian isn't too far gone." "Too far gone?! Did you see the look in his eyes?! I didn't see anything like our Killian, just something dead and broken." "I know darling, I know. But we have to have hope..." And the two sat there embracing one another as a calm cool breeze came rolling in through the stained glass wind caressing them with the promise of a new season