Continued from Corrupted: Poison Ivy Prelude 2 Find more Corruption here CORRUPTED: THE LIBRARY

Batman leaned heavily on the console, starring intently at the glowing computer screen. The prison transport bus had driven into a tree. A tree that had sprouted up suddenly on main street. Poison Ivy was obviously back from her self-imposed retirement. He had known it was only a matter of time before she pulled some stunt like this. On the screen, the image zoomed in for a close -up of Harley's face. The insane clowngirl saw the T-sphere watching her, and waved with three fingers, blowing it a kiss. A tall figure wearing Jason Todd's old mask stepped up besides her, and fired a shot into the T-Sphere.

The screen went black. Then switched to another view from a different T-sphere elsewhere in the city. It would take it several minutes to get to Gotham Park.

"Hawk leader to control. We have tracked the fugitives to Gotham park. My men are going in now." The hawk leader reported via the com-link.

"NO! Pull them back! Now!" Batman yelled into the headset.

"Sir, all do respect. We have them. They are trapped in the park. It'll be over in a minute."

"It will be over in a minute. But not the way you think." Batman growled.

"Sir? I don't follow."

"Hawk leader, your men are already dead. Do you follow that?" He removed the headset, and slammed it down on the console in anger.

* * *

The scene was insanity personified. Hawkmen fighting off Ivy's "babies." Huge, man-eating plants. Hawkmen fighting barehanded Amazons. Batman Quinn getting off shots where he could, but rapidly running out of ammo. Harley ducking and diving amid the chaos, somehow always just out of this or that hawkman's reach of swing, and giggling like a loon on parade. And at the center, like the eye of a hurricane, was Poison Ivy. The most powerful meta-human present, and their one hope of escaping alive as even more hawkmen poured into the fray.

"Junior, you're running low. Unless ya got another clip?" Harley called hopefully.

"Negative. I wasn't expecting this much company." He fired a bullet directly into an injured hawkman's face as it crawled towards him.

"Here." She tossed him a stray mace. "Gonna have to go medieval on these pigeons."

"What about you?" He called back. Then slammed the mace upward into a hawkman's jaw with an explosive cracking sound.

"Don't ya worry about me Junior. Just keep'm off--whoa!" She narrowly dodged an ax swing that would have split her in two. "Keep'm off'a Red--" The rest is lost as she caught a punch in the mouth that knocked her backwards. She landed on her back at the feet of another hawkman.

Time slowed down for Ivy then. She saw Harley about to die. She saw Batman Quinn swing his gun around to fire. What she never saw was the hawkman at her side. She never saw the mace. Never felt it as it slammed into the side of her face. The last thing she saw was Harley pointing at her, then darkness.

2065

The present: Gotham City High.

Holly Roberts was different then the other high school students. Most of them had made it a point to tell her. Some delivered this message more aggressively then others. And she'd taken home more then one black eye from standing up for herself. Or others. The deaf kid. The fat kid. Anyone who got picked on. She had always been picked on, cause she was different. She didn't hate the bullies. Hating them was no better then them hating her. She just wanted to be left alone to be herself.

She stifled a yawn as she headed to her next class. History. Normally not one of her favorite subjects, and she had no high hopes for this one. She flopped down at her desk, her head propped up with one hand, tapping idly on her desk with the other. She already wanted this class over. "Morning Ms Roberts. So glad you decided to join us." The teacher, Mrs Bertinelli commented without turning around from the DVD player she was fiddling with.

"GED's are overrated anyway." Holly mumbled under her breath.

"That's the spirit." Ms Bertinelli replied, making Holly jump in her seat. The old woman had ears like a bat or something. The older woman walked to the chalkboard and wrote January 4 on it. "Can someone tell me what of historical significance occurred in Gotham in twenty-five years ago on this day?"

"You're first abortion?" Someone called from the back, then laughed.

"Principles office, then detention Mr Jones." Ms Bertinelli replied without turning around. Wayne Jones was the biggest kid in her class. Maybe the whole school. He was definitely the biggest bully.

"Whatever." He grunted, giving Holly a shove as he walked past. His eyes dared her to do something.

"Make that two days detention." Ms Bertinelli said as he trudged from the room. "Ms Lilly, perhaps you can enlighten us?"

Lilly Isley looked up from her textbook, and pushed her glasses up her nose with one finger. "The battle of Gotham Park. Its is widely believed to be the origin of the terrorist groups that undermine the president, and the government to this day." She sounded like she had memorized it.

"Very good Ms Lilly. Yes, today is the day, twenty-five years ago, that many brave hawkmen died to protect Gotham from terrorist that had established a hideout right in the park. Among them, meta-criminals Poison Ivy, and Harley Quinn. Two of the most infamous criminals in the history of Gotham."

Holly perked up at that. She was fascinated by Harley Quinn. A brilliant, up coming psychiatrist that had thrown it all away for love. But more then that, she had thrown off the chains of social norms to blaze her own path. Admittedly, her choice in relationships countered the otherwise positive message of leading your own life, but Holly had the ever useful ability to only see the parts of the story she wanted to.

"Many Hawkmen died." Ms Bertinelli went on, "And several of the terrorist. Though the body of Poison Ivy was never recovered from the scene..."

* * *

Metropolis city,

Below the city, down a dark side tunnel, was a dimly lit room. The room is littered about with loose parts for an unidentifiable machine. Tubes and connectors and wires. At the back of the room is a single preservation tank. Floating naked in the tank of preservation fluid is a woman of indeterminate age. Her red hair floats about her head like a halo. Wires run connect her body to the tank, monitoring her heartbeat, blood pressure and brain activity. A breathing mask is strapped to her face, but can't hide the damage to her face. Her right eyes has been stitched closed, and the upper right side of her skull is broken inward. The former terrorist super-villain was now little more then a broken doll.

"Sister, we should let her move on. She fought well for us, and has provided the seed of hope. Its not right to ask more of her." A tall woman with purple hair in a lab coat said to her associate, another tall woman, this one wearing jeans and a tank top. Her hair is cut shorter, and is black.

"We cannot let her go yet sister Isabelle." She paused, one hand pressed to the glass. "Her journey is not over yet"

The guidelines are simple. Take a hero or villain (Superman, Iron Man, etc) who is not normally associated with horror, and put them in a horror-type story. Horror arch-types like ghosts, demons etc are exceptable. Or horror icons, Jason, Freddy, ya know. The point is to make a horror story with non-horror characters.

Or...

Make a superhero story with horror character. Put Freddy on the Dark Justice League. Put Jason on the Thunderbolts, etc. Go crazy with it.

(Sorry for the delay. This was supposed to go up yesterday, so I'm yet another day behind. Oi.)

Keeping the Christmas train sleigh rolling right along we have a couple odd little entries from GR2Blackout, an author that, like TheCannon, used to be very active in the forum. Unlike TheCannon, who wrote more action-y stories, GR2Blackout had more of a flair for the silly and absurd. Case in point The Rising of Santa Hamster #1 & 2

Now if your first question is "Why?" or a less articulated "Huh?" allow me to stop you now. I don't know what inspired/possessed GR2 to come up with this bizarre concept. I chalk it up to artistic madness. So. sorry. Not a lot of backstory this time. And the chapters are super short, hence I am tackling 2 at once.

Ch 1 is mostly universe set up, so I would forgive the shortness of it, except it doesn't introduce a lot. We see Santa Hamster in a training session with Rudolph against a (Swarm? Flock?) of something called "Hellicats" that were created by Jack Frost. Okay, that tells us Jack is the baddie and he made some creatures somehow to attack the North Pole. I'm down with that. The problem is we have no idea what a hellicat is, or what they look like, or what Jack's motives are. All we really know is Santa Hamster is basically a ninja with some weaponized candy canes.

Then we cut to Santa talking to Nature, or I assume the personae of nature. Again, no description is given. And apparently Santa is strapped for candy canes? Which are also money I guess (...what?...) And he works for Nature, cause.... okay. But then the dramatic reveal that there will be no Christmas this year. I bet the Red Skull had known that ahead of time. Could have saved himself some effort.

Alright, not the most compelling, but I'm sure things make more sense in chapter 2.

Nope. In ch 2 the problem of no Christmas is resolved by having Santa Hamster fill in for Santa. And here I thought the issue was money, er, candy canes. Its not shown how Rudolph got the news about Christmas, or why Santa couldn't deliver the gifts, or why Santa Hamster's killing ability qualified him as a stand-in. And now Santa Hamster has a cross species translator, but only uses it part of the story...

And we end this chapter with more killing of hellicats and their blood raining down, making it a red Christmas.

The saga of Santa Hamster is far from over, but I'm going to break it up as I can only process so much at a time.

___

As a writer, and fan of absurdities I want to like this. The idea of Santa's stand in not only being a hamster, but a ninja killing machine at that has a ton of comedic potential. Unfortunately the frantic nature of the narrative doesn't allow for any feel of coherent storytelling, and leaves plot holes big enough to bury a reindeer in. The dialogue is humorous, but not enough to save it like in the last story.

I give these chapters 2 presents & 3 lumps of coal

Further reading;

For more GR2 weirdness go to GR2Blackout page

I was at a bit of a loss for stories about anthropomorphic animales, so just enjoy this by Cbishop The Rise of the House of Toucan

And if you enjoyed the messiness of this story, then come back tomorrow for more Christmas 'Blood'

The story:

In a future possible timeline, Alex Mycroft @lady_magicka loses her longtime battle with the demon hand, and her soul is overtaken. The Advasary (A dark, godlike entity) uses the fully powered Alex to bend reality to his will. But the realities refuse to merge. So he (using Alex) picks characters from different realities (Fan fic's) and makes them fight to the death to determine which realities to destroy.

Da rules:

You may write a story about two of your characters fighting, but they must be from different universes (fan fic's/groups)

Or

You can submit your character (established or original) to me and I will set you up against another writer. It will then be up to you and the other writer to determine who wins the fight/who posts the story/etc. You can submit up to two characters from one universe, but they cannot fight each other. Check with me before starting as there will not be repeat characters unless I approve first. 1 Batman, 1 Hulk, etc. If you have put an interesting, original spin on the character (Made them a robot or a villain or gender bent them, then they maybe be approved even if they are a repeater.

Finally.

The character you submit must be established in fan-fic already. No making up OC's just for this series. Any questions, PM me.

Characters claimed:

Iron Man

Thor

Harley Quinn

The Creeper

Rated M. Character rights to respective owners, etc. Continued from Pyroverse: Fables, fairy tales in exile. Chapter 1 Find more Pyromania here Pyroverse Library

Wonderland. Center of the Dark Lords empire.

Wonderland, that once magical place of delightful absurdity had been twisted and deformed into a place of nightmares. The trees are black and barren. Lifeless. Gone is the sunny blue sky. It has been replaced now by a perpetual twilight purple. Gone now is the playful breeze. It has been replaced by a harsh, hurried wind that does not make the leaves dance. Nor does it cool the sweaty brow. It only pushes and pulls like a restless angry thing. Eager to leave, but with nowhere to go.

Crucified to the old Looking Glass gate is a skeletal form. Its body has been ran through with a dozen sharp pieces of mirror. Whether he had been alive for this, or whether he had been stabbed to death is not obvious. Pieces of mirror have been wedged into his eyes sockets to look like eyes and longer slivers of mirror are jammed under his finger nails to resemble claws. There is no sign. No written commentary. The image is enough of a warning to any would-be resistors.

* * *

A tall figure is seated at a long table covered in tea cups and dishes, and corroded old silver wear. A thick layer of dust and mold covered everything. "Why is...raven like...a desk?" The figure asked, its words are halted and unsteady. It sounded like it was being choked.

"No room. Nnnno...room." Its companion replied. It looked like a rabbit made from a burlap bag. Its mouth opened and closed whether it was talking or not, the stitching around its mouth already starting to come undone. The tall figure stood from his seat, and smashed its cup on the rabbit things head.

"I'm in...vestigating things..." It groaned. "That....begin...M."

Its a sick parody. A mockery of the former inhabitants, and an insult to one person in particular.

Elsewhere in Wonderland....

The Dark Lord was not happy. He had ordered his top magic users to create his perfect subjects. Loyal without question, and able to fill the places left empty by the fleeing fables. Instead he had over-sized children that shrieked without provocation, and were prone to ripping themselves apart. They were unsatisfactory to say the least. The copies did not act like the fables they were meant to replace either. They merely parroted the most basic character traits. Cinderella in the courtyard scrubbing the guts out of a large pumpkin was a prime example.

Sometimes she would capture rats and birds, and gurgle to them while roughly rubbing their fur or feathers. If they wiggled about too much, she would break their necks and gurgle sadly to the limp form while petting it. It was a disturbing sight for everyone.

Strangely though, for a fable obsessed with cleaning things, she never cleaned up her dead pets. Just the opposite. She would scream and drive off anyone who tried to clear away the tiny corpses.

* * *

Fable town.

"Mr Gingerbread, this is your second offence this year. You cannot pass for a mundy human. And you cannot afford a concealment glimmer or a transformation spell." Snow White told the animated cookie sternly.

"Yes but--"

She held up one hand to stop him as he started to reply. "Therefore, according to the agreement you signed upon arriving here, you are supposed to stay put at the farm with all the other non-human mundy's." She sat back and removed her reading glasses. She already tired of this day, and it was only ten AM. "This is your last warning. If you leave the farm again we will be forced to take drastic actions. Just be glad my sister was already scheduled to go to the farm today. Mr Wolf here originally suggested we mail you back." She would never do anything like that, of course. But she wouldn't put it past Bigby. "Please wait downstairs Mr Gingerbread." The cookie was gone in a flash before she finished speaking. "I wish all Fables reacted that way to your name." She told the grizzled man sitting besides her desk. "By the way, was that you from--"

"There's a lot of wolves in the Fable lands." He interrupted her, snubbing his cigarette out on the 'No Smoking' sign on her desk. "I'm not the wolf villain in every story."

Young Robin Hood was also being sent to the farm that day. She was perfectly human looking, but her wild nature made her travel outside of Fable town. That coupled with her habit of shooting "villains" with her sling-shot made her a bit of a nuisance. Not to mention a liability. It was Bigby's suggestion to send her to the farm. "A few years of hard labor should tame her." Snow had agreed. Bigby had only grinned in response. As usual, he seemed to know something that she didn't. But she had long since learned not to press him on these matters. As a wolf first, and Fable town's sheriff second, he was secretive by nature.

* * *

"So what's your deal kid? Trying to out do your Auntie Rose or something?" Rose Red asked the young girl. She had once had a reputation as a bad girl herself, but had calmed down considerably over the years.

"Nope. Just avenging the poor and helpless. S'what I do." The little girl replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Well! Aren't you just the superhero in training?" Rose chuckled. "Newsflash. Hero's don't get paid."

"Being good is its own, um, money?" Robyn replied.

"Oh you're just hopeless kid." Rose shook her head. It was gonna be a long ride to the farm...

* * *

The Farm, a few hours later...

Its a beautiful day at the the Farm. The weather is sunny but not too hot, a strong breeze gives birth to a mini dust devil on the dirt road. Or maybe its a young effreet at play. On either side of the road a homes straight out of storybooks. A gingerbread house here, and giant shoe there. Its a place of wonder. And Robyn is not immune to childish wonder, despite being a fable herself. Humpty Dumpty was there to greet them as mayor of the farm.

"Sup Hump? This is the Robyn. She's gonna have a long sleep over up here." That last bit was for Robyn. Rose was afraid she was gonna cry or something. Then she would have to be comforting. Uh, she was turning into such a mom!

"I have asked you not to call me that." Humpty squinted at Rose, who deliberately ignored him. To Robyn he said, "Ms Robyn, I am Humpty Dumpty. Of the wall siting incident. Which was not nearly as bad as you might have heard--"

"I heard from the walrus that you jumped." Rose interjected, just to scramble his yolk.

"The walrus wasn't there." Humpty replied. "So! Why don't I show you around Ms Robyn?" He changed the subject quickly, and led Robyn away by the hand. Rose watched them leave, and took a much needed smoke break. Then suddenly remembered she had forgotten to bring the Gingerbread man. 'Sh!t'

Okay. Here's my confession to all the Vine, but especially to you the RPGers.

I am not a stranger to the RPG section. But I'm not an old hand either. At best I would call myself a novice, and at worst a beginner. I really enjoy RPing. And @pyrogram was super cool showing me the ropes, and teaching me the rules/lingo, etc. One of the reasons I (kinda) stopped was the fights. I get that (RPG) fighting is a big part of this world. But I can barely write a fight scene in my stories with all the time I need, let alone in an RPG while my opponent is waiting for my response. That alone may be a sad reason to stop doing something. I admit it.

Also, the idea of other people attacking my character out of the blue scares me. See, I don't like really powerful guys. I like my down to Earth characters. Yes my main character is a witch with fluxuating power levels, but I really play her down for fear of over powering. Like, if your character can attack at the speed of light, then my guy is dead. I do not have any characters that can defend that fast. Nor do I wan't one who can. For me, healing factor or flying are pretty neat powers.

Anyway, I want to come back to RPG, because I do enjoy it. And hopefully my characters won't be devoured/thrown into space/liquified. ^_^

Rated "T" Fables is property of DC/Vertigo. All characters belong to their respective owners. Find more Pyromania here Pyroverse library

Once we were a scattered people. Different tribes. Different kingdoms. Different worlds. We knew of each other in a distant sort of way. The same way you are aware there other people in other countries. We did not intermingle though. There were no laws against it, as there were no common laws. We simply minded our own, and left others to theirs. The Dark Lord took advantage of our indifference to one another. Used it against us. I had heard of an upheaval in the land of Oz. A shake up in the rulership of the winkie people. Like thunder in the far distance. Some of us may have looked up, but most did not take notice. Every one knows happily ever after is an oxymoron, after all.

Then Narnia fell. And a few more of us looked up. It was rumored that the Dark Lord had Jack Frost himself in his employ, and that Narnia had been reduced to a frozen wasteland. The inhabitants that did not surrender or run, were put to the sword without mercy. The survivors had turned as one, troll and goat. Living tree and fire elemental. Vampires and fairy. Having a common enemy for the first time ever, and had fled together to the gates of that realm. I learned all this from a faun who had fled from Narnia. He had a queer name. Mr... something. Started with a T. Poor fellow died from injuries he had sustained. He claimed he could trace his blood back to Pan himself, but don't they all?

Then Neverland fell beneath the Dark Lords boot. Peter Pan and his lost boys fought the invaders to the last man. But arrows and knives are little use against tin soldiers. I've heard they fed Captain Hook to that old crocodile feet first. And Peter, well, I'll let Tinkerbell tell that story. Of course we realized far too late that we were being surrounded. That they wanted our lands too. No one was overly surprised when the Red Queen signed her kingdom over to the Dark Lord. And I wasn't surprised when he ordered her head be cleaved from her shoulders the moment she ordered her playing card soldiers to follow the Dark Lord's orders. Cheshire Cat was our spy in the effort. He was reluctant, and hard to coerce at the best of times. But he understood at the end of the day, that Wonderland would fall under oppression, unless every able-bodied citizen did their part for the war.

Humpty Dumpty, gods bless him, he was all ready to lead the charge against card soldiers, tin soldiers. And the Jabberwock itself, if it felt so brave. If our stronger residents had been so patriotic as him, I believe we would have won that first day. Given his frail nature (he was an egg after all) I ordered him to man the looking glass. Which the White Queen and ordered my company to guard. If the Looking Glass gate fell, then there would be no stopping the Dark Lord from taking all the fable lands.

We had to stop him here. To save countless other lands.

Cheshire arrived without his usual flare, or grin. "Report Ches." I ordered. He knew the drill, but battlefield habits are hard to break.

"There's a battalion on the march." He wrung his paws nervously.

"How many Ches." I asked softly, knowing the answer.

"All of them love. All the card soldiers, the tin soldiers, and the jabberwocky."

I knew this day was coming. Had known for a while. The Dark Lord had grown sick of playing war games, and was ready to step on the last of the resistors in one swoop. "Inform the White Queen. Then get your furry duff through the Looking Glass."

"Alice..." He began.

"That's an order private. Now report to your queen." He disappeared without further protests, as I knew he would. No one wants to be thought a coward. Especially not a coward. Our company had suffered greatly since the start of the invasion. The mock turtle was the first to fall in battle. The tin soldiers hacked him to bits, fluid leaking from their eyes the whole time. No one knew why they cried, but it was believed to be psychological. To make us hesitate at the killing blow.

The war is mostly fought by white knights now. But they were being wiped out everyday. My group fell back on guerrilla warfare. Attacking halted marches, and at night, spurning the company motto "who needs sleep?". It wasn't fair fighting, but we couldn't afford to lose. So we cheated. But now it seemed all we really did was delay things a bit.

"I'm investigating things that begin with the letter M." The Hatter mumbled to himself. "Mid-day marches. Massacre. Madness. Misery." He had inconsolable since the March Hair was killed. We were out numbered, and I made the call to retreat. But Marchy wasn't with us when we made camp. The Dark Lord had his pelt delivered to Hatter ion a white box neatly wrapped with a ribbon. I won't say what we did to the messenger, but it counts as a war crime.

Ches appeared again before me. He couldn't raise his eyes to mine though. "We gave it a good go, didn't we?" I knew what he wanted. And what the hell. He had earned it.

"Cheshire Cat. You have served your kingdom, and your queen to the best of your abilities. You are freed from your oath of service. Fare farren Ches." I scratched his chin for what I was sure was the last time. He was a good character in his own right.

After he was gone I sat down next to the Hatter who was playing the company march on his harmonica. With his nose. Always an odd fellow, that one. But I couldn't help but smile when he looked at me sideways and winked.

The White Queen gave her final address to the troops that day.

"Citizens of Wonderland, you have fought bravely for our homeland. But...." She hesitated, "....we have lost Wonderland to the Dark Lord." That wasn't news to anyone. But hearing it from her still made my heart sink a little. We would have fought to the last man if she had asked us. But to hear her say it just made our defeat official. "But we cannot let the Looking Glass gate fall into the Dark Lords hands." She looked at me sitting next to the Hatter. "After everyone is through, the Looking Glass must be destroyed to prevent the Dark Lord from following. There are other gates, but this will slow him down greatly. Perhaps giving others time to succeed where we have failed."

So there it was. One last mission. A suicide mission. But if it only annoyed the Dark Lord, then it was worth it. Hours passed while the people, and animals, and more then a few potted flowers went through the gate. Let it be a testament to the queens reign, that she waited till the last butterfly had gone through before moving towards the gate herself. I assumed she was giving me the chance to say good bye to Hatter.

And I was right, in a way.

She nodded in my direction, and then stepped through the Looking Glass. By then we could hear the tireless march of tin feet hitting the ground, and we both knew they were almost upon us.

"I suppose you should be going then Hatter." I stepped away from him, trying very hard to keep the tears back. Of all the Wonderlanders, he was my best friend.

"Tell me Alice, do you have any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?" He asked. I knew from experience he was wearing the lopsided hopeful grin. As if today of all days I would answer his none sense riddle. It was a running joke between us.

"I....I haven't a clue." I replied. And the tears came then. The hot tears of sorrow that cannot, nor should be, contained inside. I heard him step up besides me, and felt him wrap his arms around my trembling body and held me.

“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”

"Will the Summer come again?" I asked him, but rather then answer me, he walked me slowly to the gate.

"It will, but not yet. And not if you fall today."

"Wait! Hatter! I am under orders---"

"We all have our orders Alice." He replied softly, kissing the back of my head, and pushed me through the mirror even as the first tin soldiers appeared in the clearing. I realized too late I still held the Vorpal blade. But of course he had known. Because the enemy couldn't get his hands on the Vorpal sword. It would be years before I learned of my friends final fate. And it cost me a lot of money to use the magic mirror in Fable town. And this is what happened....

"Afternoon ladies! I would invite to you tea, but we're terribly over crowed already." He gestured to the dormouse next to him with one hand, while holding a teacup with one foot, and leaning on his sword like a cane.

"Overcrowded." The dormouse squeaked, and faked a yawn. "Not enough real sugar cubes for all the imaginary tea."

"Quite right! Molly. Unless....we could imagine more sugar cubes."

"Not much of an afternoon tea with imaginary tea, and imaginary sugar cubes." The dormouse pointed out.

"We'll just have to bake more imaginary scones then." He nodded.

"Enough of this madness!" The captain of the card soldiers said. "Step aside from the mirror Hatter, and be granted a merciful death."

"Oh you're here for the Looking Glass. Huzzah! We shan't have to share our imaginary tea after all." He leaned his head to one side then, a sly smile stretching across his face. "But there are many of you, and only one mirror. Shame there's not two. Or seven. Or a hundred. Or even five! Imagine that Molly. Five looking glasses. It boggles the mind. Let's see how many we can make." He swung his sword then, smashing the Looking Glass to pieces with a crash. "Calu! Caley!" He giggled, and began to dance on the pieces. His victory was short lived though, as his arms were each held by a tin soldier. The card soldier commander grabbed Hatter's throat in a choke hold as he was forced down on his knees on the broken shards of glass.

"We know how the gate works you gabbling idiot." The card commander sneered. "We will simply out it back together. It will take time, but its not impossible." Hatter raised one hand, unable to speak while being choked. "Last words then?"

"Ack--The mirror will only work--ach--with every piece." He smiled then. "And you don't have every piece."

"The dormouse!" The commandeer yelled, realization crossing his face. Molly, of course, had made off with the smallest sliver of mirror while Hatter distracted the tin soldiers, without which the looking glass was just a reflective surface. Molly escaped through another gate, and had adventures of her own. But that's another story.

For his bravery, the Hatter paid with his life. His sacrifice stopped the Dark Lord from flooding a hundred unprepared worlds, and saved who knows how many fables in the process. May his final act never be forgotten.

As for me, I await the day we retake the homelands from under the Dark Lords black boot. And I intend to remove his head from his shoulders myself.

Rated "M" for language. Eclipso is property of DC comics. More Pyromania here. Pyroverse library

Authors note: This is my first try writing in first person.

Rage of Eclipso. Pt 1

"I always found it odd how in legends and myths the gods, and higher beings are subject to petty human feelings. Like anger. And revenge. Even more odd how these guys can fall. Can forget their purposes. I used to assume this was the storyteller making the characters more accessible to the listener. I know better now. I know that even the higher powers of the universe are fallible. That no one is beyond the seductive whisper of darkness...."

"KAALA. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" The voice was not loud, but Kaala felt it in his entire being.

"I have done that for which I was created. I have judged the wicked, and delivered righteous punishment."

"YOU HAVE OVERSTEPPED YOUR BOUNDS, AND JUDGED THE VERY EARTH. YOU HAVE BECOME CORRUPTED KAALA. THIS CANNOT BE IGNORED. YOU, THE VESSEL OF PUNISHMENT, MUST YOURSELF NOW BE PUNSIHED." A large black diamond was formed then to be Kaala's home and prison for all of time.

"No!" He had shrieked. "I was deceived. The son of the morning swayed my heart! No!" He had tried to flee then, but for all the power he possessed, he could not escape his judgement. No one can, he would later tell me. Didn't tell me exactly, but I got a lot of his thoughts. And his dreams. We were joined body and soul after all. You would assume he would be all rage and hate. But he wasn't. He was just cold. He had gone insane with rage eons ago, and revenge was all he had now. But perhaps I should start at the beginning. And explain my part in all this. And explain the power of anger.....

* * *

The sun was blistering and unforgiving that day. My face was streaked with dust and sweat, mingling into an itchy mask of mud. Normally we would have braked for lunch by now. But we only had the dig site another day and I was hoping to find something to justify an extension on our arrangement. Not like the world was hurting for another strip mall.

"Good day to dig in the dirt, eh?" That was Douglas Devon. Of Devon realty co. He looked more miserable then my students, his fat face pouring sweat, and his shirt soaked through. I silently wished he would have a heart attack already. I know, that's horrible. I guess the seeds of rage were already sprouting inside me.

"Everyday is a good day for digging Mr Devon." I smiled so tightly it hurt a little. He wasn't supposed to be treading over my dig site and he knew it. He also knew I wouldn't say boo about it. It sucks when life has you by the nose. Especially when "life" is a fat, sweaty, white stroke candidate. "We'll be cleared out sundown tomorrow." I told him, wiping grime off my face with one fingerless garden glove. I really hoped he would leave then. I didn't want him starring at my a$$ while I was digging.

"Ms Holmes!" One of my students called, and I thanked the powers for hopeless students. Any excuse to get away from Devon. I wasn't really expecting anything. We had found some shells, and some old pottery. But nothing impressive. Or overly interesting. That was about to change....

Some people personify fate as a person. As a thinking, feeling entity. Just think about that for one second. What kinda sick mind plans child rape, and plane crashes, and mass suicides? Fate would have to be either very indifferent. Or very cruel. Maybe both.

I think back, and wonder if things were supposed to happen this way. Wonder if all this hell was for some greater purpose. Or were the higher beings just bored and wanted to shake things up? Eclipso for all his faults was (thankfully) not a philosopher. That would have really been hell. Nope. He never bothered with the why of his escape. He was very forward thinking like that.

And what did my wonderful little student find you are probably wondering? A diamond. A goddamned diamond. And that's not me swearing. It literally was damned by God. At first I was sure it was fake. Made of glass or something. It was the size of a tangerine for one thing. It was solid black for another. A lovely bauble, no doubt. But junk just the same. Innocent packages and all that.

I took the thing from my student and wiped it gently, just in case it was something of value. I don't know why Eclipso didn't try on an Andrea Holmes body suit right then. I was certainly angry at the fat goober who had decided to follow me. Maybe it was the gloves. Or maybe it was the bright sun. I think Eclipso just wasn't ready. Maybe he didn't know he could escape so easily. Maybe it was all the above.

"Found another bottle cap?" Devon chuckled a privileged chuckle. "Hold the asphalt trucks. Y'all found Geronimo's garbage can." I wanted so badly to smash that peace of rock into his face right then.

"Nothing interesting Mr Devon." I quickly replied before the student could reply. And stuffed the rock into my pocket.

The rest of the day was more heat, and dirt. I will skim over it to save tape. I know, lazy narration, but I can't just get a fresh tape. Rambled too much already. That night was an average one. It should have been pitch black and moonless. But no, it was cloudless. The moon was half-full if I recall properly. Not that it matters. Just pointing out how untheamatic it was that night. I remember sitting in my tiny apartment with the lights off. Sipping a glass of wine and rolling the "diamond" in my hand. The pawn shop I stopped by had used jargon I won't bother repeating here, but basically the diamond was worthless. As I had suspected. I had a decent buzz going, and was watching the shadows on the floor dance and change. Becoming faces, and demons, and hands. Hating my apartment. Hating my crummy life. My career choice. And most of all, Devon. Angry at life in general, and the world in particular.

I remember the flash then. Then everything went dark.

The next few days are blurry to say the least. I remember killing Devon. I remember being powerless to do anything I wanted, which sucks as much as it sounds. I asked questions, made threats. Prayed. All for zip. Eclipso pretty much ignored me. I do remember him calling me an "inadequate" host. I was asleep for a lot of it. Playing host to godlike being takes it out of you.

I remember when those other magic guys showed up. Remember Eclipso's--cough--amazement that anyone would dream of opposing him. The fight was fast and hazy. But I felt the spear in my stomach. A magic spear, Eclipso was kind enough to scream out. That hurt like hell, let me tell you. It was like being inside out, and on fire. Whoever they were, they hurt him. And that pissed him off.

But even injured and enraged, he was still tactical, and pulled a fast escape even as his powers leaked out. A lot more stuff happened. But I'm tired, and this ally is so cozy. I'm really bleeding now. Think I'll lie here just another minute. If someone don't happen by, I'll try calling for help again. Someone will come along. This city's lousy with hero's. Someone will find-----

End of tape.

To be continued in PyroVerse: Shadowpact.

I missed yesterday, so I was going to just own it and be a day behind, but Cbishop pointed out that I did make a schedule, and I realized if I took a fall day the whole calendar I so painstakingly made would be moot. So, with that half-hearted intro we press on with More Goosebumps: Monster Blood For Christmas #1 & #2 of 8.

Monster Blood was one of the earlier, and more popular of R. L. Stine's Goosebumps series. It was so popular that it spawned three or four sequels, and at least one cameo in a different book. And of course it inspired these two stories. More Goosebumps was one of those groups that sadly never took off, and even GR2 gave up after these two entries and we may only speculate how the story was intended to end.

The story centers on a little douche named Derek Royigon. And not to nitpick so soon, but we only know he is a butt because GR2 tells us he is. He does have kind of a bratty attitude, bu we don't really see him being super bratty. In Goosebumps story the bratty one is normally the antagonist to the main character, but we would see the the misdeeds and the bad attitude. The problem is both of these issues move at break-neck speed. Given the amount of content they really should have been posted as one chapter.

Another story problem is the lack of a blue can. If you are a fan of the Monster Blood series like me, you know the stuff always comes in a blue can. Yes, that really is a nitpick, but there is really no reason to omit it unless it was going to be addressed later, which is was not, so I'm sinning it.

Its a pretty standard format for the series, just done far too quickly. Kid gets Monster Blood, and it starts growing and spreading super fast as the kid tries desperately to deal with it. I can't say more because there's not a ton of story, and it stops too soon.

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I can't really recommend these stories for a general lack of content, and plot that is spread thin and smeared fast. 5 coal.

Further reading:

For more Christmas spooky reading I recommend The Tomb of Horror Classics and Horror Inc

And now that I'm back on schedule, come back tomorrow for the continuation of the Santa Hamster saga.

As I sit here starring at my computer I realize I did not plan out my schedule very well as here I am reviewing GR2Blackout for a third day in a row. I was a little reluctant to do this one at first because it was another Santa Hamster, and not to abuse the proverbial deceased equine, but the entries in the Santa Hamster to date were some what lackluster. Perhaps this is harsh to say in this context, but I was pleasantly surprised with Santa Hamster's Buddy, Rudolph!

The story (kinda) picks up the plot of The rising of Santa Hamster, and doesn't actually star Santa Hamster, surprisingly. Instead, as its title suggests, it centers on Rudolph questioning the Christmas Owl (Just go with it) who apparently knows something about a killer on the loose at the North Pole. Not Jack Frost or Twister the hellicat, this is a new guy, because this is an expansive universe with deep lore, that's why. The back and forth between Rudolph and the Christmas Owl is pretty funny, til Rudolph goes full bad cop anyway.

There is a bit of a murder mystery, which is as rushed as the rest of the series, and that hurts it a little, but its not terrible. I really can't say too much without ruining the mystery.

As far as plot holes go, some are quirky, with Santa at one point sounding like a stage actor that has forgotten his lines, but he's shouldering on anyway. Some of the other holes are more head tilting, like when you find out who the killer was, and what his motivation was.

And it ends promising us the origins of Santa Hamster. Do we ever get it? I dunno, I'm not reading ahead. I guess we'll find out together.

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This was the most enjoyable of the series for me so far, and I actually recommend it. It has a kind of endearing charm and quirkiness. 4 presents/1 coal

No recommended reading this time, sorry.