A Paranormal Espionage Thriller from The New Adventures of Daemon-Star
The young man sent a wave of ebony-black force upwards over the roofs of the shopping district in the neighbourhood of Charles Village in Baltimore.
“Bow down before me all!” he screamed. “I am the one gifted to rule over you! I am Hell-Man!”
“Hell-Man?!” said I incredulously, appearing on the roof behind him. “Isn’t that a mayonnaise?”
He whirled about to face me and, with a snarl of rage, shot forth a bolt of his horrid powers directly towards my person. I deftly dodged it and sent back a portion of my own inborn abilities in defence. They sparkled orange and blue as they were propelled towards him.
My name is RUMANOS -- DOCTOR DANIEL RUMANOS, Supernatural Swashbuckler and Intergalactic Man of Mystery. Even though I have the physical appearance of an human being; a tall, well-built and strikingly-handsome gentleman with noble Anglo-Semitic features; I am in actuality far more. For I am actually many thousands of years old and do carry within my blood the vastly-superior genes of the enigmatic Watchers of the Daemon-Star ALGOL, this extraterrestrial heritage granting me numerous abilities and powers that appear as “magic” to Earthlings.
Whilst most Algolites live in isolation from the rest of the Universe, merely observing, I work as an operative of a secret organisation hidden within the government of our home-world of Daemonia. This organisation, known as the KOSMIKOS or Cosmic Intervention Department, covertly acts in order to prevent the efforts of the many and numerous negative forces that wouldst threaten the peace of all Space and Time. Under the direction of Master Emmos, our Chief Operative, I am tasked with missions upon Earth and elsewhere, all the time whilst living undercover as a professional stage magician/illusionist and paranormal fiction author in the city of Baltimore, Maryland.
This particular day involved the apprehension of an individual who was a member of one of the fraternities at Johns Hopkins University. This young man had come to the attention of the Kosmikos after having obtained an antique volume of occult teaching at the local Abnormal’s Bookshop. The book actually contained some potent and useable formulae handed down from some alien race that had visited Earth briefly during the Dark Ages, and this young man, Roland Richardson by name, had used them to achieve a certain amount of psychical ability. These capabilities had in turn been greatly enhanced when he had raped a drunken teenage girl at a weekend frat party, all the while chanting the old “magical spells” that he had memorised from the horrid book.
The added vigour of sexual energies had “done the trick”, endowing young Mr. Richardson with a frighteningly large portion of darksome, otherworldly power. He had, on this day, decided to publicly announce his ascendancy as ruler of the world or some such malarkey, naming himself “Hell-Man” and then unleashing a dangerous show of his newfound abilities upon the local populace. Fortunately, the Kosmikos had apprised me of these doings and I had shown up just in time.
“Why are you at Johns Hopkins, ‘Hell-Man’,” I mocked. “Shouldn’t you be more at home in the Mayo Clinic?”
My defensive Algolitish energies hit the possessed Roland Richardson painfully, and he howled in anger.
“Daniel Rumanos!” he stated with obvious hatred. “The powers within me have warned of your interference, ever-meddling Agent of Algol! But you will not prevent the coming of Hell-Man!”
“Oh, the coming of Hell-Man,” I scoffed. “So is that the mayonnaise then, you saucy bugger?”
“I will destroy you, Rumanos!” he screeched in fury. “I will destroy you!!”
Richardson then quickly sent another burst of darkling energies at me. Enraged by my words, he had done so without first properly concentrating. This was a serious error on his part, as the energy was then not of sufficient strength to be of any serious import, and I simply allowed it to hit me fully.
Then, before young Mr. Roland Richardson, the would-be “Hell-Man”, could generate any more bursts of power, I hit him with one more tremendous wave of my Algolite powers -- an onrushing shower of orange and blue radiance.
“I’ll have the deli mustard instead, thank you,” said I.
My power had the effect of both extinguishing the human life from Richardson and of exorcising the dark powers within him. He reeled and fell from the edge of the roof to the pavement fourteen storeys below whilst I quickly left the area. The official story would be that Roland Richardson, university student and fraternity member, had fallen to his death after a drunken escapade upon the building top. Anyone claiming to have seen evidence of anything else would be dismissed as mistaken and not mentioned in the official report put out by the Baltimore Police. (I myself would secretly visit the late Mr. Richardson’s dormitory room and quickly remove the occult text before anyone else could make use of it.)
Such was my encounter with the self-proclaimed “Hell-Man”. A minor battle indeed amongst those of my long and eventful career, but little did I know that I would soon afterwards be sent on a far more dangerous and phantasmagorical mission -- one of vast and unspeakably evil import in which the safety of the entire planet Earth was truly and hideously at stake!
It was the very night following my encounter with the miscreant known as Roland Richardson, and I was standing upon a tall turret of Rumanos Castle, the huge Gothic-styled edifice that sits atop a lofty escarpment to the north of Baltimore City and which serves as my mansion and fortress upon Earth. I soon found myself visited, as I had expected, by Quaddos, Psychic Weapons Specialist for the Kosmikos.
“How are you doing, Master Quaddos?” said I. “Is all well on the home-world?”
“By the Stars, Master Rumanos,” said Quaddos with a twinkle in his eyes. “I don’t think things have really changed on Daemonia for over sixty thousand generations!”
Quaddos is himself much more sociable that most Algolites, with a well-developed sense of humour. He wears the usual grey coverall-type garment of the Watchers, but with a bright yellow flower pinned to its otherwise austere lapel.
“I say, Quaddos, my next assignment must be something quite momentous for Master Emmos to send you to speak with me. I take it some sort of weaponry is involved?”
“Yes it is!” he replied, a note of seriousness entering the voice of the jolly old Algolite. “Something the presence of which would have made it to dangerous to send the details of your mission through the void. It involves… the GOBLINEYE!”
“The GoblinEye?!” I repeated in astonishment. “But that has been missing since Earth’s last Ice-Age!”
“Indeed it has,” he replied. “That ancient relic has itself the property of concealment. It is only because of its recent use by an human being that we know of its whereabouts at all.”
This artefact known as the GoblinEye, whilst appearing as an oval gem of a deep green colour no larger than could be held in the palm of an hand, is said to be an object of intensely-dangerous “occult” power. It is believed to contain the combined psychic essence of that ancient race known as the Kobolds or Goblins, a particular species of squat proto-humans, an early offshoot of the Neanderthals, that inhabited the far north of the European Continent before the rise of Homo Sapiens.
The Goblins, governed by a leader know as the Hobgoblin, a sort of combined military general and shaman, had achieved an incredible amount of psionic ability due to continual inbreeding of the best of their type -- only those with the intelligence and wherewithal to survive in the bitterly-cold darkness of the northernmost regions.
Now, this Goblin race died out before human civilisation as we now know it even began, themselves the victims of the mutating side-effects of their own breeding practices. The last Hobgoblin, obsessed with preserving some legacy of his kind, had managed to house their combined psyches within the oblong green gem known to darkest legend as the “Eye of the Goblins” or GoblinEye.
Following the extinction of the Goblins, the gem had vanished into myth, the only clue to its fate being a rumour that a Ninth-Century Viking longship captain had found and appropriated it during an expedition that had been blown off-course by a storm into the icy Arctic waters.
“But the GoblinEye, wherever it has been,” I said to Quaddos, “is said to be harmless unless it falls into the hands of one both totally insane and ambitious enough to use its power to seek world domination. You mean…”
“Indeed it has, Rumanos,” answered Quaddos, his usual smile turning to irony. “It has been activated by an individual known as Klarissa Emmalee Feck”
“Oy, I think I’ve heard that name. ‘Klarissa Feck, psychic medium’ -- she was speaking on some late-night radio show recently. Claimed she was going to start a new line of ‘paranormal porn videos’ that would ‘take over the world‘. Obvious nutter fake, I thought.”
“She was only that… until now,” rejoined Quaddos ominously. “With the powers of the GoblinEye, nothing of this planet could stand in her way.”
Therefore was my mission from the Kosmikos: to find and stop the machinations of this Feck woman, and to retrieve or destroy the GoblinEye before its eldritch and demoniacal powers could be used for hideously nefarious purposes.
“Understood,” I told Quaddos. “Assure Emmos that my assignment has been received and accepted.”
“This is your imperative, Eleven,” he stated, using my operative number for emphasis before vanishing into the inter-dimensional void back to Algol. “Klarissa Feck must be destroyed.”
Before beginning upon the mission that I had been assigned, I accordingly conducted some research concerning this hideous woman into whose gruesome grasp the GoblinEye had fallen.
Klarissa Emmalee Feck (yes, that is actually how she spelled it, being of uneducated and mentally-deficient parentage. The surname had actually been Feucch, before her German peasant ancestors had degenerated into the American “white trash” they now were) was 28 years of age, though she had the appearance of being much older as the result to her lifetime of narcotics use. She was of medium height and much on the flabby side, though she -- as with so many of her horrid type -- liked to refer to her build as “curvy”. She wore heavy make-up (which still did not succeed in disguising her rather mannish facial features) and disgustingly low-cut blouses, the latter in order to display her revoltingly saggy cleavage. Short skirts, dollar-store stockings, and dreadfully cheap high-heels completed her whorish apparel.
Klarissa Feck had, approximately three years before this account occurs, declared herself a “psychic medium” via the internet, and had soon gotten the support of much of the redneck “ghost hunter” crowd, to which she offered her sexual favours in exchange for publicity. She was known to have group sex sessions with various “paranormal teams” in exchange for money, drugs, and a place to sleep. You see, Feck was technically homeless.
As for the GoblinEye, it had been passed down to her from one of her ancestors who had stolen it from the jewellery collection of the wealthy Rhinelander family to which the Feucchs had been servants in Germany before immigrating to the United States. The powers of the evil gem had lain dormant for centuries, awaiting the day when they would come into contact with someone possessing the combination of low intellect and utterly insane ambition necessary for them to gain control. Klarissa Feck was just such a person, and the baleful and eldritch forces hidden within the green GoblinEye had merged with her to such a degree that her complete annihilation had become absolutely imperative, in order to save the very planet from the influence of this revived psychic terror.
I ascertained that Klarissa Feck was currently residing in the area of Allentown, Pennsylvania, and it is to this at-once charming and bizarre Pennsylvania Dutch city that I travelled, accompanied by my beautiful and eternally-youthful wife, LADY KATRINA OLIVIA CROWLEY-RUMANOS. Katrina had originally been an human being, a beautiful young girl of noble Scottish descent. The Kosmikos, seeing the devotion we shared for each other, had gifted her with immortality and certain powers so that she could be my companion on many of the adventures to which I was assigned upon Earth and elsewhere. She is tall and slender, with gorgeous ginger hair, enchanting azure eyes, and skin the purest white of alabaster.
I was quite familiar with Allentown due to the Cabala School that used to be there, but it was not the nice downtown area I remembered to which we travelled in search of the obscenely execrable Klarissa Feck. It was rather upon the very outskirts of town in which we found her current temporary abode, in a squalid and mostly-deserted trailer park of a quite sickening and perverse aspect. Despite the chill in the air that overcast afternoon, the entire area was swarming with horseflies.
We approached the trailer that Feck was inhabiting. I was dressed in my usual dark-coloured silk suit, leathern greatcoat, military boots, and safari hat. Kat was wearing an elegant yet functional midnight-blue dress and matching short cape, along with small black boots.
The door of the trailer home opened and its actual official resident stepped out, a short and stocky hillbilly type of the kind unfortunately found as often in Pennsylvania as in the southern states. I knew him from my research as a certain Dennis Luedtke, aged 46, who had the unspeakably dubious “honour” of being Klarissa Feck’s current paranormal paramour. You see, Luedtke rather fancied himself a “ghost hunter” due to his own erotic attraction to the dead; he having been exiled from nearby Kutztown years before after having been found carnally violating the corpse of his then recently-deceased mother. To this day, the grave of the late Doris Luedtke, the woman whom had given birth to this rednecked necrophiliac, was viewed with a superstitious horror by the traditionally-Germanic citizens of the region.
Forsooth, even the local Amish population, usually so non-judgmental concerning the affairs of anyone outside of their own community, had banned the worthless and perverted Dennis Luedtke from patronising their shops.
More recently, Dennis Luedtke enjoyed fornicating with Klarissa Feck whilst the latter was unconscious due to the effect of the numerous illegal narcotics in which she habitually indulged. Her corpselike coldness appealed to his necrophilia. He even occasionally took photographs of himself in bed with her, proudly posting them on his Instapic and Tweeter social media accounts. One assumes with a decided shudder that this, though not yet displaying graphic content, was the origin of the “paranormal pornography” that Feck promised to soon unleash upon the public.
“Holy Flapdoodle!” exclaimed my lovely Katrina at the sight of Dennis Luedtke. He was indeed a grotesquely-humorous sight with his unkempt greyish-brown hair and scruffy beard, this along with his filthy sleeveless shirt and ripped jeans not concealing the numerous folds of loose skin that indicated he had once been even more overweight than he was at present.
“Bloody Hell,” said I. “I’m rather surprised that we don’t hear banjo music.”
“You two go away!” shouted Luedtke, his splayed eyes narrowing beneath his low forehead. “I be in love with Klarissa and she love me! She the best thing ever happened to me! Go away or I get my gun!”
We had no time to waste bantering with this subhuman idiot. I accordingly cast a bolt of my orange and blue Agolitish energy powers at him, just enough to quickly extinguish his useless existence. He fell to the ground a stone-dead pile of the same refuse that he had been in life.
It was then, before my beloved Katrina and I turned away from the corpse of Dennis Luedtke, upon which the swarming flies had immediately descended, that a tremendous burst of emerald-hued psychic energy blasted apart the trailer before us. It fell to pieces like a veritable cracker-box, and standing at the centre of its now-flat walls was the horrid, revolting, and decidedly ungodly woman that we had been tasked with facing, and she was indeed wielding the ancient, legendary powers of the Goblin Race. It was Klarissa Feck and, to our abject disgust, she was totally nude, her badly bleached-blonde hair blowing in the breeze created by the green-hued powers emanating from her.
“You have murdered my boyfriend,” she exclaimed in her shocking cackle, “and I will now wipe you out, Family Rumanos!”
Suspended from a cheap fake-gold chain about her neck, and partially hidden by the repulsive cleavage of her pendulous, sack-like breasts, was the GOBLINEYE!!!
Before we could react to this shocking display, the hideous creature known as Klarissa Feck shot a tremendous blast of her green-hued demonic energies directly towards Katrina and myself, sending us both sprawling uncontrollably upon the ground of the motor home park.
“Listen now!“ screeched the horrible and perverse woman. “Listen while Klarissa explains it all! You just hate me because you’re jealous of me, just like everyone else is! I’m a well-known psychic medium and ghost hunter, and now I’ll use my great powers to rule this world!!”
As the absolutely insane Feck rambled on, both Katrina and I had regained our feet. I was just readying a defensive burst of my Algolitish force, when I suddenly found myself being attacked from behind by a grotesque and supremely bizarre source. It was the swarm of horseflies, which were now also exhibiting a greenish glow, denoting that they too were possessed with preternatural powers from the GoblinEye!
The swarm of Goblin-powered horseflies, newly energised by feeding from the departing life-essence -- and corpulent flesh -- of the idiotic varlet known as Dennis Luedtke, quickly surrounded me. I heard an infernal, diabolical buzzing beyond anything known to the world of light and sanity. The ancient Kobold energies pulsated about me with their uncanny lime-coloured hue, and I had to generate a protective shield about myself, formed of my own orange and blue Algolite forces, in order to prevent the nauseating flies or their diabolic Goblin power from touching me.
Whilst I was thus occupied, the sickening slag known as Klarissa Feck concentrated her attacks upon my lovely wife.
“Now, Katrina Rumanos,” cackled the disgusting Feck in her astounding madness, “It’s between us! Hahaha!! Paranormal girl fight!! I wish I had my phone camera! It would do great on ViewTube!”
With this, Klarissa Feck cast another blast of Goblin power at Katrina, but it was met in midair by Kat’s own fantastic vermillion and violet fire -- the wondrous Mystic Flame that she wields as Heaven’s Hell!!
As the two forms of power clashed and emitted sounds of incredibly loud and echoed crackling, Klarissa Emmalee Feck grew increasingly angry.
“No, little girl!” she screamed irately. “Nonononononono!! You won’t defeat me! I’m Klarissa Feck! I’m famous! I’ve been on paranormal podcasts!”
“Holy Flapdoodle,” responded Katrina with a hint of amusement. “I am now completely convinced that you really are just utterly insane.”
It was only then that I, utilising my extraterrestrial energies, managed to break free from the swarm of possessed horseflies. I charged directly at the hideous Klarissa Feck whilst sending multiple blasts of power at her.
“Kat!” I shouted. “Target the gem; the GoblinEye!”
My wife immediately comprehended my purposes in this and we both focused our powers, my orange-and-blue Algolitish energy and her vermillion-and-violet flame, directly at the green, oblong stone that Feck wore on a chain about her unsightly neck.
“No, Rumanos!” shrieked Feck. “Even you, The Man Who Walks Between Worlds, can’t defeat me! I’m famous! I’m a well-known psychic! I’m Klarissa Fe…!”
“Shut up, harlot,” I interrupted her ridiculous tirade. “Nobody gave you permission to speak.”
It was at that moment when the combined powers of Katrina and myself caused the GoblinEye to burst into myriads of fragments as its baleful energies dissipated into the ether forever. The proximity of Klarissa Feck to this blast caused her to also disappear, vanishing totally out of existence along with the eldritch Goblin power with which she had so fully allied herself.
The body of the hillbilly scum once known as Dennis Luedtke had been almost totally eaten away by the horseflies that now had left the area, freed from the influence of the ancient Goblin essence. The only other evidence of what had happened that bizarre day was the remains of the trailer, which I hear that the Lehigh Valley Sheriff’s Department has since “explained" as the results of just yet another exploded meth-lab.
As Kat and I left the revolting trailer park that had once been inhabited by the nauseatingly repugnant and unspeakably perverse paranormal trollop known as “Klarissa Emmalee Feck, psychic medium”, we turned our minds towards far better things.
“You know, sweetheart,“ said I. “We should pay a visit to a very nice establishment I know in the near by town of Whitehall, where we can experience one of my favourite of the local customs.”
“What would that be then, my love?” enquired Katrina with her usual sweetness.
“It is known as smorgasbord!”
DANIEL RUMANOS WILL RETURN