ABRACADABRA!


She remembered that her name was Megan. Little else was clear to the girl. Her surroundings were dark, save for a thin blade of light that seemed to be coming from a closed doorway. Her mind would not function properly; her memories were obscured as if by a mental fog. She had vague ideas of a life, parents, school, friends; but the details were shrouded.

She became only dimly aware that she was lying on a bed, her hands bound by ropes to the headboard.

Suddenly, the shaft of light grew larger, just for a moment. Then it was obscured by a silhouette, a tall figure standing before her.

“Ah, so you are awake, my cutie,” said the voice of a man, a deep and mocking voice, a voice of one depraved by unnameable and lustful evils. “It won’t be long now. Soon, you will assist me in the calling of the One. The very Essence. The Lord of the Formless Void. The Lord -- Abraxas!! …

My name is Dr. Daniel Rumanos. I use my unusual capabilities to defend the human race from alien invasions and mad scientists. I am Daemon-Star! …

I was seated at Caesar’s Den restaurant in Baltimore’s Little Italy, wearing my usual silk suit and jungle boots, with my leathern greatcoat and panama hat on a nearby rack. I was quite enjoying an excellent luncheon of linguini with mushroom sauce when an elderly gentleman suddenly appeared sitting across the table from me. I recognised him immediately as Chief of Staff of the KOSMIKOS, that secret service organisation of my people, the Watchers of Algol.

“Greetings, Master Rumanos,” said the Chief. He was wearing the silver coverall garment of his office, his piercing eyes firmly focused upon me.

“Salutations, Master Chief,” I replied. “What brings you these ninety-three light years? All is well on the home-world, I pray? I must say I was expecting more ‘chef’ than Chief in these surroundings.”

“Indeed all is as it ever was on Daemonia,” answered the rather dour Algolite, ignoring my attempt at humour. “How proceeds your usual assignments here on Earth?”

“Nothing of any importance for a fortnight or so. I was thinking of using the lull to take Katrina for our long-delayed vacation at Galactic Centre.”

“Excellent to hear. How is Lady Rumanos these days?” enquired the Chief. “I notice she rarely takes part in your assignments of late.”

“Aye. While Kat is immortal and eternally youthful, she can experience pain. Knowing this is something our enemies can exploit and have used against me, I have found it best for her to live in retirement at one of our seaside resort homes. When I am working, she amuses herself with caring for her pet felines and reading classical poetry. Not a bad life at all, really.”

“It is good to hear that she is safe and well.”

“Thank you.”

I took a sip of coffee as the Chief sat in absolute silence.

“Look, Chief,” said I at last, “as much as I appreciate the show of concern, I know you did not travel here just to ask about the health of my family. There is some other matter, eh?”

“Indeed there is, Eleven,” replied the Chief, now addressing me by my official operative number. “A concern as great as any you have faced before. It has come to our attention that a certain Earthman by the name of Jay DuBrueler is attempting to call forth the being known as Abraxas.”

“Abraxas?” said I in astonishment. “That demoniacal evil has not been heard of in nearly twenty centuries, since the fall of the Basilidean Gnostic heresy that last threatened to bring forth his chaos upon this planet. They blasphemously referred to him as ‘The Father of God‘. Medieval Christian cosmologists later called him ‘the oldest demon known to man’. Magicians still mischievously use his other name: ‘Abracadabra!’”

“Indeed so,” replied the Chief. “He was originally Abraxas the Great, Emperor of Galaxy 424. Finding himself bereft of new worlds to conquer, he used the combined mentalist force of the myriad races under his command in order to teleport himself across the Cosmos to the Milky Way.

“He hoped to expand his empire here, but the resulting backlash of the psychic forces necessary to achieve such a leap drove him into complete madness. The earliest ancestors of humankind not even in existence then, and the Gargouellios of Mu -- with some help from the Watchers, I might add -- succeeded in binding him in one of the inter-dimensional prisons. It is from there that Abraxas attempted to the return from the darkness by the worship of the Second-Century heretics.”

“So now he is trying again, through this DuBrueler character?”

“Quite so. Jay DuBrueler, late of the area of ‘Harpers Ferry, West Virginia’,” informed the Chief, pronouncing the name of the Earth location with the unusual intonation it indeed was to him.

“Harpers Ferry, you say?” I said in disgust. “That degenerate cesspit has been an hotbed of Satanic cults and occult corruption for years now. It should burn.”

“DuBrueler has moved to Baltimore.”

“Bloody Hell!” I exclaimed. “This city has enough problems without having to deal with hillbilly devil-worshippers.”

“Your mission, of course, is to destroy Jay DuBrueler and to assure that Abraxas remains forever imprisoned.”

“Understood. I will get on it immediately, Chief.”

“There is one complication: DuBrueler has kidnapped a young human female for use in his calling forth of Abraxas.”

“The sexual sacrifice?” I shuddered. “That is indeed the most dangerous and wickedly powerful of the so-called ‘paranormal’ technologies. What is the poor girl’s name?”

“It is Megan McCrable.”

“Megan McCrable! Why, her disappearance is known. There are ‘missing person’ posters of her up all over the city. Hot little blonde, age sixteen.”

“It is most imperative that you stop DuBrueler from performing the rite with her. It would free Abraxas and bring chaos and mayhem upon this planet, the resulting havoc perhaps wiping out the entire human race. This you must prevent.”

With this, the Chief of Staff vanished. He had communicated my assignment to me and returned to our headquarters in the Algolite systems. I would receive no further assistance, in accord with the official “non-interference” policies of our kind. It was now all up to me as a covert agent.

I turned from the table to call the waiter for my bill and then stopped abruptly. There was a strange black mist, a fog of eldritch darkness, enveloping my table. You see, a certain side effect of the information having been given me is the opening of possible communication between myself and the insane forces of evil that I would be fighting. They had indeed taken no time to begin their assault.

It was then that I beheld an huge ebon shape beginning to coalesce before me. It was a shape as of no being known outside of complete and utter madness, a shape of ungodly obscenity, a shape of the absolute and unmentionable horrors.

And accompanying this apparition I heard a low chant, a chant proclaiming the name of that ancient and insane evil, that grotesquely-archaic otherworldly conqueror that threatened to bring eternal disorder and unending pandemonium upon an unsuspecting world:

“Abraxas… Abraxas… Abraxas… “

I cast a wave of my bright orange and blue Algolitish energies at the vision, for that is what it was. An illusion sent by the mentalist force of Abraxas as a warning to me from afar.

The spectre vanished as my power hit it, disappearing back into the void. Nevertheless, I knew that this ancient evil was still of extreme potency if it had the ability to produce such a phantasm before my campaign against it could even get underway.

Then I realised something, something horrifying. It was the 30th day of April, that which is known as Beltane or Walpurgis Night -- the most important celebration of those who follow the ungodly rites of Satanism. I knew that this Jay DuBrueler lunatic would not waste the opportunity to utilise this coming night in which to call forth his infernal lord, the oldest of the demons -- Abraxas!

I quickly paid my bill and left the restaurant. There was no time to lose in finding DuBrueler and halting this outrage, including his intention of using an innocent teenage girl as the so-called “sexual sacrifice”.

It was in truth no surprise that this DuBrueler filth would do such a thing, as a look at his antecedents will reveal.

Jay DuBrueler was born to a working-class family in Frederick County, Maryland. His father died of lung-cancer when Jay was a small lad, and the boy dropped out of school soon afterwards, moving into his mother’s basement in his teens, and remaining there for the next two decades.

Despite his lack of a formal education, Jay DuBrueler did show a modicum of intellect, reading old horror novels and a few books on electronics and so forth. Along the way, he discovered some occult texts at a local bookstall. These included that hideous volume known as _The Satanic Bible_, written by the late Anton Szandor LaVey, whose own status as a conman and fraud did not prevent him from unleashing truly unholy terror through his attempts at literary works.

DuBrueler liked LaVey, and did some delving into his background. He especially enjoyed the rumours that LaVey had fathered a child by his own barely-teenaged daughter. DuBrueler, although by now a tall, well-built young man, with dark hair and not unhandsome features, had failed in any attempts towards romance. Women were generally disgusted by his poverty and his seemingly-shiftless existence. If he could use Satanism as a method of procuring sexual liaisons, mused DuBrueler, then so much the better.

However, along the way it seems that Jay DuBrueler had acquired a rather extensive criminal record. Drugs charges (he was hopelessly addicted to that revolting weed known as marijuana), driving while intoxicated, assault charges due to various drunken brawls at local taverns, and so on. After some time, DuBrueler decided he needed new stomping grounds in order to continue his Satanic pursuits. A possible location eventually presented itself to him.

West Virginia is the most debased and disgustingly-abject State in the Union. DuBrueler decided that its horribly low levels of sophistication found there would make it perfect as a place for him to establish his base of infernal operations. Therefore, now in his thirties, he finally moved out of his mother’s home and headed to hillbilly land.

Once in West Virginia, Jay DuBrueler first stayed at Nahkeeta Campsite near Martinsburg. It is from here that he abducted a three-year-old girl, brutally raping her in the near by woods before leaving her there, bound and gagged, to bleed to death. The child’s disappearance was never reported, her family being transients who felt they had no recourse to the police or other authorities.

After leaving the campground, DuBrueler settled in Harpers Ferry, that town being, as always, seemingly a gathering-place for the area’s worst elements. Its status as a tourist-trap makes it a prime location for petty crime and con games of all types, including the numerous fake “haunted houses” charging a fee for the purpose of bilking credulous thrill-seekers. To the occult-obsessed criminal known as Jay DuBrueler, the area sounded like a paradise, and he soon enough found a way to thrive there.

What DuBrueler did was indeed an old ploy of his type: pretending to be attracted to a lonely old woman and using her home as a place to flop. The chosen victim of this swindle was a certain Mary Addams, a widow in her late fifties who owned a local jewellery shop, which was rather optimistically known as High Street Accessories.

One day, whilst lazing around the shop, Jay DuBrueler discovered an item in the display case that fast caught his attention, an item that Addams had acquired from the estate sale of a deceased local collector of the bizarre. It was a disk of very old-looking pewter, about three inches in diameter. On it was an engraving of a creature rather like a grotesque gamecock, accompanied by a name of ancient and most nigrescent evil: Abraxas.

DuBrueler immediately appropriated the horrid talisman and began to use it in his Satanic conjurations, marvelling at the phantasmagorical manifestations he could now accomplish. Indeed, it is then that the hoary horror of Abraxas the Great, conqueror of a distant galaxy, reached out to Jay DuBrueler, the now utterly-mad alien intending to use him as a tool in its plans to break free from its inter-dimensional prison and to spread chaos across the world.

To begin his perverse worship of Abraxas the Great, the wicked DuBrueler had taken “Victoria Harper”, a stray cat that had become the unofficial mascot of Harpers Ferry, and had slaughtered the poor little kitty (“Just for fun!“ he exclaimed as the cat’s blood gushed from its throat that he had cut with a steak-knife) upon the old deal table he utilised as a Satanic altar.

It was then that DuBrueler encountered a snag. Mary Addams discovered his Satanist activities and, in no way approving of such things, sent him packing. He moved back to Maryland, raising money by selling prescription medications he had pilfered from Addams to Baltimore City’s illegal narcotics market.

And so, I arrived in the disgustingly blue-collar east Baltimore neighbourhood of Edgewater this 30 April -- Walpurgisnacht -- to prevent the satanic criminal Jay DuBrueler from achieving his demoniacal goals. I parked my canary-yellow Edwardian roadster at the end of Maple Leaf Road and began to cross the field to DuBrueler’s domicile -- a small, dilapidated house in the distance. I hoped to all that is holy that I still had time to save the girl, innocent Miss Megan McCrable, from his perverse embrace. Surely, DuBrueler would know he had to preserve her virginity until the ceremony in order to properly present the “sacrifice”. He would wait until midnight, the “Witching Hour” when, according to the superstitious, the powers of evil are most exalted.

A curious yellow fog had arisen that now-late afternoon, increasingly obscuring my surroundings as I crossed the grassy field. Then suddenly, as from out of nowhere and everywhere at once, I found myself surrounded by the appearance of myriads of darksome, eldritch forms. Forms of unmentionable and abominable alien shape and plethoric otherworldly visage.

This was no vision. I was being attacked by the servitors of Abraxas; the very manifestations of the psychic essences of those uncountable alien races who had been subjects in his own remote galaxy. The very beings whose amalgamated power Abraxas had used to transport himself across the Cosmos.

This mass of demonical terror surrounded me on all sides. Then, all at once, the dark horrors rushed upon me!!

Of the many beings who were the inhabitants of Galaxy 424 during the time of the Empire of Abraxas the Great, it could be said that very few of them would be considered of any sane visage to the humanoid mindset. Strange, writhing, obscenely distorted forms surrounded me, twisting and shifting in constant, grotesque motion; forms vaguely resembling gigantic insects and spiders and reptiles and centipedes and crustaceans and cephalopods and myriads of other shapes -- many of them beyond any possibility of description.

With this were howlings and buzzings and clickings and indeed a cacophony of diabolic sound.

What these creatures intended in their attack upon me I could only surmise. That they were servants of Abraxas was definite, but their rationale -- if indeed such a thing can be ascribed to such monstrosities -- was seemingly far beyond any type of logical comprehension.

That they were insane was definite. Their having teleported, along with their dark master, across such an unbelievable vastness of Outer Space so many uncountable aeons past had sent them into complete and utter screaming madness for all eternity. At this knowledge I could only think: if these servitors were so powerful and forceful in their abject insanity, what even higher unnameable powers of the twisted mind could then lurk within their superior, that legendary conqueror of worlds, Abraxas the Great?

As the alien forms swirled around me in constant hideous motion, feelers and claws and tentacles and fins and unmentionable appendages continuing to writhe and squirm and thrash about in horrendous constant motion, I was also beset by mental images of other scenes, scenes unfathomable.

I beheld scenes of uncountable darksome worlds; planets and comets and star systems of the most ancient age of that distant galaxy. Whirling planets with rings and moons and vast structures built for forms unimaginable of figure.

Darkling orbits of eldritch chaos and of seemingly-infinite enormity.

Moreover, during it all, I heard the chant; that chant of the worship of that incredibly-powerful being of sinister satanic terror, the oldest of the demons, the so-called “Father of God”; that creature of cosmic horror and horrid eternal evil whose adoration is only the continual repetition of his feared and awesome name:

“Abraxas… Abraxas… Abraxas!!”

Through all of this, I endeavoured to concentrate, to break through the distractions of the great cosmic wickedness that was being revealed to me. I had to concentrate on my mission, to that with which I had been entrusted: preventing the debauched cultist Jay DuBrueler from achieving his satanic goal of bringing the insane and demoniacal alien tyrant known as Abraxas into manifestation upon Earth, and therefore plunging the unsuspecting human race into a world of dark chaos from which they would likely never return.

In this, I most was able to concentrate on saving the girl, the beautiful young woman that DuBrueler had so cruelly abducted. The girl whom he now intended to force into taking part in his perverse evocation. The innocent and blameless maiden whom he intended to violate upon his altar of madness -- the so-called “sexual sacrifice” that would raise the psyche-static energy necessary to bring the eldritch abomination of Abraxas into total and complete manifestation. I concentrated on the damsel named Miss Megan McCrable.

With this thought in mind, I unleashed a burst of my bright orange and blue Algolitish powers around me, blasting away the images of the demoniac alien servitors. Suddenly, they were silent, and I saw that I was back in that Edgewater field, with the extraterrestrial distortions now banished.

Nevertheless, it was then that I new horror overtook me, forsooth an horror of realisation. For it was then I noticed that time had passed whilst I had been in the dark grip of the servitors; much more time than had seemed, for what is a temporal difference to beings of such ancient origin? It was now well after sunset, and the misty field was enshrouded in the darkness of nighttime.

For this had been the purpose of the servitors: to delay me. I knew that it was now midnight, the time allotted for the sexual sacrifice and the final conjuration of Abraxas. I hurried towards the house of Jay DuBrueler in my final attempt to prevent this and to save the helpless girl, realising that I might already be too late!

Inside the house, Jay DuBrueler had completed the opening evocations, and already an huge, ebon-black phantasm was forming over the altar of madness that he had constructed. DuBrueler smiled evilly, his sallow complexion and dark eyes alit by the numerous candles burning around the chamber. Copious amounts of incense, made from hideously unlawful herbs, filled the air.

Lying helpless upon the altar was Megan McCrable, exquisitely beautiful and nude and powerless to prevent the outrage that was intended. Her pure white skin shone clearly in the candlelight, her lush golden hair framing her perfect features. She slightly opened her lovely blue eyes, but the sickening narcotic tranquillisers that DuBrueler had given her in her food prevented her from attaining full consciousness.

Jay DuBrueler approached Megan’s helpless figure with unrestrained lust showing upon his bestial face. The short time that he had kept the girl there had to him seemed like an eternity of waiting, but he had managed to restrain himself until now; and now the time had come for him to perform the “sexual sacrifice” -- to forcefully violate the young virgin and to use the resulting psyche-sensual energy of this outrage in order to bring the horrid abomination of Abraxas into full horrid manifestation!

DuBrueler could not repress a chuckle as he opened his black ceremonial robe and prepared to take his obscene pleasure with the helpless damsel. His desire was engorged to the extreme, and he knew it would not take long to perform the perverse rite and to thereby complete the calling forth of his chaotic, demoniacal lord.

“Abraxas,” the wicked Satanist chanted as he drew near the poor wee lass, “Abraxas... Abraxas!”

But then, mere seconds before the villainous filth Jay DuBrueler could begin his ravishing of the maiden, he heard the sound of the glass shattering in one of the windows. DuBrueler looked up just in time to see me as I delivered a flying kick to his midsection, sending him hurling across the room, safely away from the girl. He hit his head against a shelf, and I beheld him fall down dead as blood poured from his now-cleft skull.

I turned quickly to the hideous form of Abraxas forming above the altar, and recited the prayer to exorcise the spectral horror from this reality:

“In Nomine Dominus Nostri Christos Jesus Excelsus!”

There was a sound as of countless souls in everlasting agony, and then silence as the horrid form vanished, cast back into its proper hell -- hopefully for all eternity.

There is a reason, dear readers, why the alien horror Abraxas had became known, albeit so blasphemously, as the “Father of God”. It is because that the fear and danger of his very existence had caused the human race to turn to the worship of the One True Lord and Creator, and to embrace the extraterrestrial technology -- taught them by the Watchers of Algol through the Gargoyles of Mu -- that is known upon this planet as Abrahamic Religion.

I picked up Megan McCrable and carried her from the house. I would return her to her grateful parents, who would ask few questions out of happiness to see their teenage daughter safe. Megan would recover well, considering the circumstances, and she would remember little of what had occurred due to the drugs that the villainous DuBrueler had given her.

That night, as I carried the beautiful girl from the house of evil, she looked up at me dreamily, a slight smile upon her lovely lips.

“I like your coat,” she said softly, feeling the leather against her naked skin.

“You should see me in a peplum,” I replied, and she swooned

Daniel Rumanos shall return.