Die and let live (IC)

[Dr Archeville]

Man, this does not feel right. I-

"Jake? What're ya-" he began to say, before realizing his friend was under the force's mental domination. "Aw, Jake, no..."

Okay, okay, I can fix this. The power I'm readin', it's mind control, not possession, so whatever spirit's pullin' the strings ain't in Jake, it's still in this thing. Just gotta keep him distracted while I figure out what to do.

"Fascinatin'?, he repeated, in his best Southern Belle tone. "Lil' ol' me? Well, I do declare, I'm jes' flattered ya think so, whoever ya are, but I really don't think yer my type. Yer just a bit too old fer me."

[Dr Archeville]

Hold up -- maybe Gorsky was tryin' to stop this guy. Maybe whoever or whatever this is was plannin' somethin' he weren't ready to do... but is fire really the answer, or was that just the first thing he went fer?

Necrommne? I know that name -- Rene talked 'bout him some. French Necromancer, active durin' the Revolution. Saens & the Master Mage fought 'im, burned him an' his home. But if he survived somehow... if it's his spirit in this clock... then fire might be the only way, finish what the house fire started!

Dead Head's eyes widened as he recognized the name, though he tried not to show it. "I think yer mistaken, her name's Richards. Easy mistake t'make, though; all livin' folks look alike t'me, too. But, uh, you said you wanted a closer look at me, right? Take a peek under the hood?" As he spoke, he cradled the clock in one arm, and with his free hand grabbed and tore open a large gash in his stomach. "Well, then.... take a good look!" He crammed the clock up into his torso, mashing and shoving nonfunctioning organs around.

And now to get to the nearest incinerator. There should be one down the hall a bit... an' hope this thing don't try to control me while doin' so!

[Supercape]

GM

"What are you doing with the clock?" asked Lori as Dead Head stuffed it inside his body.

"That's my clock!" she said, stamping her foot down "It will make me better!" she said, crying "I was dreaming about how the clock would make me all strong again!"

As Dead Head performed his somewhat unsightly deed, Jake stood in what looked liked stunned silence, before opening his mouth.

"What are you doing? Don't put me in there....!" he said, mechanically. His eyes widened, and his gun-arm wavered as he looked on in amazement at Dead Head's plan.

"Stop! Stop!" he yelled as Dead Head ran off "You won't get far!"

The Incinerator room was, as Dead Head knew, just down the corridor - not far from the Morgue. At this time of night it was both empty and inactive. The door had a somewhat feeble lock on it, nothing that the undead strength of Dead Head could not rip apart without hesitation.

[Dr Archeville]

Dead Head smashed the door open, and saw the great incinerator before him. Hope this thing ain't too hard to work!

It was not. McNider Memorial Hospital, while once the largest in the city, had over the years been overshadowed by the newer and more modern Freedom Medical Center, and thus some of its equipment was not as up to date as it could be. The faded instructions on the control panel were still legible, and this furnace did not have the failsafes of more current machines, such as only lighting once the door was closed and sealed. In moments Dead Head had the thing going, an intense fire within ready to reduce anything to inert, sterile ash... and his mind-controlled friend had reached him.

"Hey, Not-Jake!" He tuned to face him, back to the open furnace; a lesser, living man would feel uncomfortably warm standing where the revenant was. "Looks like we both got somethin' the other wants. So ya wanna tell me what this is all about, see if we can reach some sorta compromise?"

[Supercape]

GM

"Hey, Not-Jake! Looks like we both got somethin' the other wants. So ya wanna tell me what this is all about, see if we can reach some sorta compromise?"

"This is about life, you abomination!" said Jake, in his slightly stiff, mesmerised speech. Gorsky's Gun remained in his hand, pointing directly at Dead Head.

"I don't know how a creature like you came to be. But you can be assured I delve into the matter!" he continued "to be so vexed is not something Necromme will forget! Normally, anybody who crosses me is crushed!"

He paused momentarily, as if regaining some composure.

"But answer me this, Dead-Man!" he said, with a sly slow tone "What are you going to do with my poor Lori? She has a most morbid illness. A tumour, they say, although I never did much care for the science of leeches and quacks. But she is not long for the world. Even now, her body eat's itself. You can smell it, can't you? you, so alive to death...you can smell it on her...yes, she will not see another yuletide..."

He laughed in a slow, mechanical way.

"And yet, I can offer her a way to live! yes! my descendants I imbued with a most curious and wonderful inheritance. To swap bodies, to possess one another! I can save her, in the very clock you have in your body. And I will live in her body, and with my mastery of the black arts, and my will, can survive in that body!"

"So burn me, would you? and consign Lori to the reaper? Tell me Dead-Man...what is your purpose? do you still cling to life?"

[Dr Archeville]

"Been crushed. Got better." Dead Head shifted slightly, as if giving the matter some deep consideration. "So... you'd save her, cure her of what's ailin' her... an' you'll get outta this here clock... but her spirit'll be put into it. So... you'll get to live, inside her, a' she'll be a knick-knack fer the mantle? How's that gonna be better for her?"

"That's the thing 'bout you necromancer types," he spat, pointing accusingly at Jake. "Ya get so wrapped up in the quantity of life, in prolongin' it, ya never consider the quality of it. Ya think she'd want to exist as a clock? An' you -- ya think yer gonna like livin' as a girl? You know what her hormones are gonna be doin' to that thing in a few years?"

"'Course not," the revenant went on, "'cuz ya don't care 'bout livin', just existin'. An' 'cuz you don't really car one bit 'bout her, just her body, long as it can anchor you t'this world. Yer the only one yer concerned 'bout, it's jes' yer life yer tryin' t'extend, an' you don't care how many of yer descendants ya gotta go through t'do it. What makes you think you deserve to go on forever? What made you so a-feared of death?"

[Dr Archeville]

"What gives you the right to steal other people's lives, the lives of yer children an' grandchildren an' on an' on an' on? It ain't right, Necromme."

Now let's see if I can remember anythin' I learned in theatre arts class...

He lowered his hand, and took in a deep breath so he could let out a sigh, "'course... it ain't right that a sweet lil' thing like that got cancer, neither. The radiation an' the chemo... the weakness an' pain... but that's jes' how it goes, sometimes." The revenant's shoulder's sagged a bit, "the sawbones an' such can do what they can to prolong her life, fight the cancer, but there's only so much they can do... an' even then, what quality of life can they offer her? Is it jes' quantity they'd be givin' her? Maybe she would be better off in the clock." He reached into his torso and began to pull the phylactery out, "'least that way, she won't feel no pain, right?"

He paused, with the clock sticking halfway out of his stomach, "wait, no, she would feel somethin' -- utter loneliness, cut off from everyone she knows! An' while she goes batty from isolation, never able to feel her mother's touch or hear he dad sing 'er a lullaby, you'd be runnin' 'round in her body, raisin' who knows what kinds of hell! Sorry, Necromme, but this," he stood up straight, "is yer last stop on the body-swap express!"

He turned and leaped into the incinerator, instantly setting his clothes alight! With one hand he removed the clock from him, exposing it directly to the flames, not allowing it any protection from his burning flesh; with the other he reached out and closed the door, holding it so Necromme could not throw Jake in after him to take the clock back. "This'd better work..."

[Supercape]

GM

Jakes mechanical smile, as Dead Head briefly considered "his" proposition, was soon wiped off his face as Dead Head thrust the Clock in the inferno.

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" he yelled, a long, despairing moan.

His hand almost reflexively contracted around Gorsky's enormous gun, which fired. One of the shells, filled with holy water and enchantment, whizzed past Dead Head and struck the incinerator, where it exploded and hissed.

The fire of the Inferno was hot - blazingly, uncomfortably hot. Even standing near it would be hard for a man. But inside, the fires reached incendiary levels. Both Dead-Head's hand and the Clock blackened and started to smoke. In the power of the flames, the clocks form shimmered, and it turned into a silvery urn, full of ancient runes engraved around its form. The true form of Necromme's last remains.

"What have you done!" screamed Jake. His eyes were red, and a light smoke wafted away from his mouth and ears.

[Dr Archeville]

A small part of Dead Head wanted to stand there and just watch as the incinerator consumed his supernaturally resilient flesh, which so far was regrowing as fast as it burned away.

But there was no time for that! "Hang on, Jake!," he called out to his friend, "ya gotta push this bugger outta yer head! Ya can do it, man!"

"An' as fer you," he tuned back to the clock, gripping it tight in both hands. So tight, in fact, his bones pushed through his fingertips, and dug into the magically-toughened wood and brass! "Let's see if'n I can crack this thing open an' get to the chewy bits inside!" His fingerbones, charged with necrotizing energy that could hasten the decay of organic matter, dug in, adding to the crushing damage from his indefatigable strength.

An' maybe then I can figure out what to do with lil' Lori...

[Supercape]

GM

Jake's voice floated through the heat and flames of the incinerator.

"Dead Head? What's going on? There was something...something terrible...in my head...I couldn't do anything, it made me..."

His voice tailed off.

"...oh no...I think I..."

The Urn crumpled under Dead Head's grasp, cracking, splitting, and then bursting into flames.

"Not again!" came a horrible whisper from the thing, oozing into Dead Head's mind. Even now, as it faded, Dead Head was aware of the awful will of Necromme. A will that could not be denied, and would never accept death.

"I'll take you, Mr. Dead, I'll take you as mine...you will never see the end of me....haha haha"

Its cryptic message lodged in Dead Head's mind like a vague but unsettling itch, as the flames scorched Dead Head, his flesh smouldering.

[Dr Archeville]

"Jake? Jake, are you-" he began to call out, then he heard Necromme's oily voice. "Yeah, you just try it, I'll throw ya into an even bigger fire!" He wiped his hands of the remains, wiping off some of his own burning flesh in the process.

Right, time to get outta the pool. Or into a pool.

The recovering Jake saw the door to the incinerator open, and a charred form calmly step out. The revenant straightened his jacket and ran a hand through his regrowing hair to get it out of his regenerating eyes. He knelt down next to Jake, "you okay, buddy? You see where the girl got to? Where's Lori?"

[Supercape]

GM

Jake was slumped on the floor, head in hands, Gorsky's revolver lying on the floor next to him.

He looked up at Dead Head, his eyes tearful, his voice cracked.

"Lori?" he said, not quite registering.

"I...don't know...run off....maybe..." he tailed of, before continuing, more urgently. If Dead Head hadn't still been smoking hot, he would have grabbed the undead hero by his virtual lapels.

"When...it...I...it...I..." he stuttered, unable to complete words let alone sentences. He looked distraught.

"Dead Head! I shot Gorsky!!!!"

[Dr Archeville]

"It's okay, Jake," the revenant said reassuringly as he offered a hand to help the M.E. up, "it weren't you, it was Necromme. If someone steal yer car than runs over someone, it's their fault, not yers; same deal here." He glanced back at the incinerator, then back to Jake, "probably didn't want Gorsky blabbin', or figured he'd outlived his usefulness. Just talk to the cops, tell 'em all what happened." He patted the man on the shoulder, "this is Freedom City, man, weird things go on all the time. It's not yer fault, Jake."

"Now I'm gonna holler fer the cops, so they can come see ya. When they ask what happened, tell 'em the truth. If ya need help provin' you was bodyjacked," he reached into Jake's jacket pocket and took out his notepad and pencil, and began to write a name and number, "you call Nick. He's worked with the cops before, on cases like this." He tucked the pad and pencil back into Jake's coat, "now I'm goin' to go look fer Lori; I'll start in the Lost an' Found. Ya should tell the cops to keep an eye out for her, too."

[Supercape]

GM

A few moments later, at lost and found...

Lori sat on her behind, knees pulled in, looking despondent. Perhaps she should be crying, but perhaps she had cried enough over the last months. Perhaps she was older in years than she should be.

If nothing else, Necromme had his own peculiar will and insight. And maybe his descendants had a little piece of that too.

She gave a long sigh.

"I guess its gone" she said, her eyes on the edge of wetness.

"It was just a dream. I should know better. It was a nice dream, you know? I would be well again. I wouldn't....you know..." she looked right at Dead Head.

"Can I be like you, when I'm Dead?" she asked.

[Dr Archeville]

Awww, man... was hopin' she'd wait a bit 'fore askin' me that.

The revenant walked forward slowly, and knelt down beside her on one knee. "Don't work like that, Lori. Heck, I don't even know how I got t'be this way," he lied, "but I don't think this is fer you. But, think about it -- this here's Freedom City!" He grinned, and threw his arms up, "there's jes' oodles of stuff goin' on out there -- men flyin' 'round, women tossin' 'round energy bolts, all sorts of awesome stuff -- so who knows? Tomorrow, some egghead might work out a cure for what's ailin' ya!"

In fact, I know a few who might be willin' to look in on her. Miss Americana's smart, she- wait, no, I never got her number! Ah, but I got Fleur's, she'd prob'ly know how t'get in touch with her. Yeah, I'll call after I make sure Lori gets back to 'er folks.

He lowered his arms, and gave the girl his best 'stern fatherly gaze', "Ya ycain't give up hope, Lori, never do that. There's lots of ways ya might pull through -- safe ways, natural ways, that don't involve forces like what that Necromme was plannin' -- so my advice is t'enjoy the time ya got, with yer friends an' yer family."

~fin~