The Home Of Mr. and Mrs. Fries, A Little While Later...
"You really think they're coming back, Victor?"
The silence lay heavy over the house, the only sound coming from the ticks of the clock on the kitchen wall. Victor sat next to his wife, their hands intertvined while his other restlessly stirred the coffee that had long since grown cold. He knew just sitting by the table like this wouldn't make time go any faster, that they should at least move into the living room for more comfortable seating, maybe turn on the TV just so there'd be some background noise, but somehow, neither of them could seem to bring themselves to do anything other than sit here and stare at the bare patch of wall the magician and the old superhero had disappeared through.
"I think so. I don't know..." Victor answered, squeezing her hand in comfort "Part of me still can't believe any of this is happening at all, you know? I keep thinking that it's part of some bizarre prank, or scam. But if it is, I sure as hell can't see what the payoff could possibly be..."
Nora paused, surprised at the choice of words. Victor hardly ever swore, not as long as she had known him at least, not that she minded, it just showed how much the events of the past week must've rattled him. Her diagnosis, and everything that had spiralled from there. Now, here they were sitting, waiting for a wizard to bring them to an underground pool of immortality juice. She wasn't sure if she was in shock, or just numb from having the rug repeatedly pulled out from beneath her.
"Was that really Wildcat?" She finally said, for lack fo anything better to talk about "The one from the 40's? I remember reading about him when I was a girl, but he'd have to be at least 60 by now, wouldn't he?"
"Probably closer to 70 by my guess" Victor answered her, glancing up at the clock before returning his gaze to the wall "Though he's certainly not built like any septuagenarian I've ever seen. Before today, I would have guessed he might be the son of the original, but it's starting to look like a lot of assumptions I had about how the human body works are wrong..." Wasn't that the truth? Victor Fries might have considered himself a rational man, who saw the world as a collection of facts and data, but not to the extent where he would deny what he saw with his own eyes. Flagg could do magic, or something so close to magic that the difference was academic. It thus stood to reason that the older man was in fact the same Wildcat who should have been in his prime 40 years ago, yet still looked like he was cut from stone. In fact, aside from a few wrinkles and greying stubble visible on the uncovered half of his face, nothing about Wildcat indicated old age at all.
"And if they don't come back, because... because Flagg was right, and there was something bad waiting for them down there?"
Then he'd gotten two people killed because of his own desperation, and his punishment would be to watch Nora wither away like a dying flower, his last hope snatched away. Victor closed his eyes, trying to focus on the warmth of her hand in his. And if he was lucky, he'd die too, at the hands of whatever guarded the Lazarus Pit, if it thought to seek him out in revenge. He would welcome it at that point-
A flash of light brought him back to the present. Nora gasped next to him, and he opened his eyes just in time to see a glow appear on that same spot on the wall that Flagg and Wildcat had disappeared through. It quickly spread outwards, forming into the shape of a door, and two silhouettes began to grow visible within the light. Two familiar figures stepped across the depths of space...
It took him a second to realise what was different about them.
"Oh god! You're injured!" Victor said, his voice higher pitched than he'd have liked, as he bolted to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over in the process, before darting towards the first aid kit hanging next to the door leading to the hallway. Flagg's voice stopped him halfway there.
"Woah, woah, calm down, Fries! This isn't ours!" The magician said, gesturing towards the rust-brown splatters drying on his shirt, and the blue costume of his older companion. "But, if you have any, can I have a small plastic bag? Oh, and a tupperware container? I brought some unexpected samples back with me..." There was a small noise as something fell from Flagg's hand, clattering on top of the kitchen table. Nora stared down at the two tiny, bloody objects now staining the wooden surface.
"Are...are those teeth?!"
"Eh, I think technically they're fangs?"
.......
"Uh, Wildcat, are you sure you want to be front line for this? I don't think you can beat vampires just by punching them in the face-"
There's little else I have time to say before the assassin vampire darts forward in a creepy, slithering burst of movement, like an oversized snake! Surprisingly, Wildcat responds almost as quickly, moving into a kind of crouch just as the vampire swings his sword towards his neck, catching the blade between the palms of his hands!
"Rule nr 1, kid! You can never go wrong with a punch to the face!" There's a blur of motion as Wildcat takes advantage of the vampires momentary surprise at his attack being blocked, and swings a meaty fist right across the jaw of the undead bastard! There's a roar of pain as the vampire staggers back, blood dripping from it's ruined mouth. In the glow from the pit, I can see that the teeth right in the front of the upper row are now broken or missing, including one of the fangs. The other is still there, but pointing crooked to the side in an almost comical manner.
Holy hell, Ivan Drago would be jealous of that kind of punching power.
"RRAAAARRGH!! YOU WILL DIE IN AGONY FOR THAT, MORTAL!"
The vampire snarls in fury, and lunges again, this time trying to disembowl his opponent, but Wildcat seems to see it coming, quickly sliding sideways while at the same time bringing his fist down on the vampires elbow. He grunts in pain and anger, but doesn't let go of his sword, moving into an upward swing instead, again aiming for Wildcat's head. Wildcat leans his head to the side, like he's dodging an incoming punch, and uses his momentum to throw a punch of his own into the vampire's ribs. It doesn't seem to do much other than stagger him for a moment, but Wildcat isn't done yet.
"Rule nr 2, no matter how tough they think they are, they still need their ears to hear!" With that, he pulls both arms back, hands open, and quickly slams them against the sides of the vampires head, right over the ears, in a blow so strong I swear I could feel a shockwave from it! The undead monster shrieks in pain, stumbling backwards with one hand clutched over his left ear, the other hand gripping his sword like a vice. As he thrashes around, I get a quick glimpse of the other side of his head, where a small stream of blackish blood is running from his ear canal.
More importantly, in his pained stumbling, the vampire has moved back enough that I don't have to worry about Wildcat getting caught in the crossfire.
"Pretty good lesson, old man! Here's one of mine: when in doubt, set in on fire! DRAGON'S BREATH!!"
The now-familiar taste of sulfur fills my mouth, almost overwhelming my senses, right before a torrent of flame erupts from between my lips, lighting up the dim chamber like a small sun and engulfing the vampire! The pained shrieks rise in pitch, for a moment reminding me of one of the soldiers getting eaten by zombies in Day Of The Dead, even as the stench of burning flesh rolls off him, almost overwhelming the smell of sulfur in my nose. And...
The motherfucker still isn't dead!
Screaming in rage and agony, the vampire comes rushing forward, sword still in an iron grip, flames dancing around the blade as he readies a final swing, embers flying behind him like a trail of fireflies.
"YOU'RE NOT LEAVING HERE ALIVE! FOR THE MASTER-"
His final cry of revenge is cut off as a wave of energy neatly slices through his rapidly charring flesh, and through his spine, the head toppling backwards and disappearing over his shoulders as the body keeps going another few feet on it's own, before collapsing into a smouldering heap in front of us.
"Huh. I was hoping that would work..." I say as I flick the switch on my switchblade, the blade disappearing back into the hilt.
"Sure, if you want to do it the EASY way..." Wildcat says jokingly, as he walks over to the now hopefully dead vampire, and nudges the burning corpse with his boot "Wow, that is going to put me off barbecue for at least a week..."
"Somehow, I think you'll pull through." I say as I kneel down by the spot where the vampire stood a few moments before, carefully picking up a small, white object from the rocky ground. One of the fangs, the one Wildcat punched out of his mouth. It'd be stupid to leave something as rare as this behind, I'm sure I can find a good use for it. In fact, might as well get the other fang too, if it's not too badly burned.
"Hey Wildcat, can you check-" I say as I begin to stand back up, right in time for a squelching noise, accompanied by something splattering right on my shirt. "Oh, come on! I just washed this stupid thing!" I shoot a glare at Wildcat, who shrugs sheepishly as he dusts his hands off, having just finished running the vampire's sword through it's back, and through it's heart.
"Sorry about the splash damage, Flagg" He says as he looks over the new stains on my shirt. "Didn't think he had that much juice left in him after the roast you gave him, but figured it'd be a good idea to stake him too. Can never be too careful with these things, you know?"
"You have any idea how hard it is to get blood out of fabric?"
He just gives me a flat look "You're kidding, right?"
I sigh "Just... help me pry the second fang out of this creeps skull so we can get on with this?"
...
"Oh, and can I have a glass of water too? I got a nasty aftertaste I'd like to get rid of!"
Nora watched as Flagg slipped the two bloodied teeth, or fangs as they apparently were, into the small bag he'd been provided, while her husband took a coffee cup from the rack of clean dishes by the sink, quicly filling it up with water before handing it over, alongside the requested tupperware box.
"Thanks. Some spells have some very specific drawbacks" Flagg said, accepting the cup and filling his mouth with water in one swig, gargling and sloshing the liquid around, before spitting it back into the cup. "Okay, I'm sure you're anxious to know how our expidition turned out. Good news is, the Lazarus Pit was where I thought it was, and as far as I can tell, it's functioning like it's supposed to..."
"...and the bad news?" Victor said, glancing down at the bagged teeth. "I'm guessing those... things have something to do with it?"
"You'd be right. The bad news is... well, I guess it's not so much bad news as much as it's different news than I was expecting to give. The Pit WAS guarded... and someone else had already taken over when we got there. Whoever that was left behind his own guard, who wasn't about to go down without a fight."
"Does it have anything to do with why you two smell like a backyard pit barbecue?"
"Yes. Yes it does. But again, the good news is that the Pit is on standby, so whenever you're ready to be cured, we can get it over with! Just a heads up though, we left the place in kind of a mess, so try to brace yourselves..."1010