S2 E1: Resurrection

He reached up, and felt his knuckles break through the surface. It was hot. Scorching hot. He was desperate to escape what used to be his sanctuary. Their sanctuary. He could taste copper, the result of a shattered nose only minutes before. His vision was distorted. At least he thought it was, down here in the darkness. He floated in and out of consciousness.

We all float. 


He had the faint realization that he was suffocating. That he had to pull himself out of the farmhouse. He had to rise from the grave that JC had destroyed to create for him.


But he couldn’t. So he didn’t. All he felt like doing was sleep. So… he slept. 


Briefly. 


A humongous hand grasped his bloody arm and pulled. It was Kosnar. 


Somehow they had extinguished the flames. Otherwise he would have certainly been in worse shape than he was already. 


He crawled out of the pile of burned debris, out of what once was the farmhouse, like a wounded insect. He crawled to the grass and collapsed. Daedalus stood above him. When Tempest opened his eyes slowly, he saw the small, unhappy man glaring down at him. 


“We almost lost you. This wasn’t my vision.”


“Sometimes,” Tempest breathed, “the monsters we awaken are bigger than the shadows that produced them.”


He inhaled deeply before rolling over onto his stomach. 


“I imagine JC was just as surprised at realizing this as we were. Just as the Final Girl before him.”


He coughed up some black phlegm that stuck to the ground with a dull thud. An interesting sound for a ball of saliva. Above him, Daedalus gave the statement some thought and nodded. Kosnar stood with his arms folded in front of him. 


Once he composed himself, Tempest got to his knees. He followed the gaze of his leader. The property had been destroyed. Daedalus sighed. 


“What do we do now?” Tempest asked quietly. Blood was still burning through his nasal passages. His eyes hurt to open. Of course, pain was something he enjoyed. And JC gave him all he could enjoy on this day. 


Daedalus shrugged in response, shaking his head. They knew they had to go somewhere. They couldn’t afford to fix the damages done here. Daedalus had spent all of their money on turning their property into a drive-in. 


But the Creeps hadn’t exactly become chummy with anybody, despite their efforts. So where would they go? How would they get there? At the rebirth of winter, where would the Astro Creeps stay to survive? They had… nothing. 


“For twelve months, we tried to recruit allies,” Daedalus said, seething with bitterness. “And no one obliged. For twelve months.”


“No sense in drowning ourselves in self-pity,” Kosnar said simply. Daedalus only spat in disgust. 


“We need to fix you up before we do anything,” Kosnar continued, nodding at Tempest. 


“I thought he was going to be my friend,” Tempest said, referring to JC. He put his head down and sulked. Or maybe he sobbed. It was difficult to tell. Daedalus kicked him gently. 


“Get up,” he said. “And go back around to your original train of thought. I liked that one better.”


Kosnar nodded in agreement as Tempest slowly got to his feet. 


“We’ve got about a month to find our way to Chicago,” Daedalus said.


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Daedalus took a long look at him. His nose was bandaged. His eyes, blackened. Bruises covered his ribs and back. But he was still the Tempest. He looked him closely in the eyes. Everything he had collected last year was gone. Squash, the stuffed roadkill... The sock of marbles... The tar-stained painting of JC.


They were gone. But, everything he absorbed was here. Bright blue eyes stared back at Daedalus, eyes that he absorbed in July. Tempest sighed, his bright blue eyes rolling impatiently in their sockets while Dr. Daedalus continued to inspect him. Eye rolling, absorbed in the autumn.


Daedalus looked among his surroundings. Tempest's new format, absorbed in December.


"Are we done yet?" he questioned, his voice nasally and whiney.


Daedalus smiled, taking a step back. "Yes," he said. "I suppose we are. How are you feeling?"


"Ready to get back out there and kick some ass."


Daedalus winced. Apparently format wasn't the only thing Tempest absorbed in December. A little bit of attitude as well.


"Let's try not to be so eager, hmm? At least, not like that. It's not quite you."


"What is me, exactly?" he challenged.


"Not that. JC Loophole died back there in the wreckage. Don't let the flawed version of JC surface in his place."


"I'm lost, D," he said suddenly. "I'm afraid of what's next. I'm afraid of them. Of being rejected for another year. Of being spat upon, looked down on, bullied around. We're not the monsters here. They are."


Daedalus reached forward and slapped him.


"Fuck off with that. The abyss is your playground. The unknown is the path you've driven. Please, do get a grip on yourself. I know it was an emotional ending to your first year in the Global Coalition, but goddamnit, leave it behind."


And he did.


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The demons hate you...


...the demons hate you


The demons hate you...


...the demons hate you


Darkness concealed them. Where they were, where they had been, it was unclear. But the when was apparent, at least somewhat.


"My question is simple. Can we trust him?"


"...no. No, we can't trust a man of deception. He's going to trust us as much as we trust him. And I don't trust him a bit. I've been face to face with him before. And, while I'm very intrigued, I'm also very aware, illusions are his friend. It looks like we've found some competition in the department of the strange and unusual."


"I myself, am strange and unusual."


"Will you stop?"


"My apologies. I couldn't resist."


"The question is, can we trust them?"


"The simple answer to that is no. They're in it for themselves. They're loyal to each other to a fault. You cannot yield to them just because of our past loose affiliation with them. You and the magician, you must find some common ground and use it. I suggest illusion, for starters."


"You know who else was a magician? Randall Flagg."


"Who's that?"


"Nevermind. Get your head right. Kosnar, you're not helping. It doesn't have to be personal. And, why would it be anyway? It's a matter of us versus them to start our year. It would be a proper statement to put down the Co-Op Champions right away."


"It would."


"Especially with an oddball matchup like you and the magician. So, I suggest you reshape yourself, or unfuck yourself, as soon as possible."


A long silence.


"Fuck you. These things can't be rushed."


"They can be rushed. And they will be rushed. The sooner you get your mind right, the better. Otherwise, they'll eat you alive."


"Why don't you just focus on finding us a place to stay here in Chicago. It's a fucking miracle of God that we made it up here."


"God? ...no god here."


"Might I suggest being chummy with someone? You know, in a normal sort of way. With the magician perhaps?"


"Fuck that. Two bizarres don't make a right. Besides, like I said, I don't trust him. I just--rock motherfucker, rock the motherfucker, rock motherfucker, yeah-ah."


"..."


"..."


"Sorry. I glitched."


"Glitched. Like we're in the fucking matrix."


"Hey, watch your fuckin' mouth. We could very well be in the matrix. As far as I'm concerned, that's basically what Channel Thirt--"


"Would you shut the fuck up? It might hear you."


"What might hear him?"


"What lurks on Channel X."


"Oh... Have we come full circle?"


A long pause.


"It would appear so."


"I would love to crawl into the minds of those watching us."


"No. No one is watching. An audience, like God, isn't present. Not here."


"Ok stop. I'm getting vertigo. I'm getting dizzy. This world is spinning."


...the demons hate you


The demons hate you...


...the demons hate you


The demons hate you...


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They're baaaack...


I don't like this concept. I think it's juvenile, if I'm being honest. So, why am I applying it, one might ask. Well, I don't always have a choice in the traits I consume and apply to my newest form. I know, fucked up, right? 


Hey... you know what I just realized?


This format of my thinking, of my presenting, I feel I've inadvertently consumed from Lucy Wylde. Or, Lucy Cool. Or, Lucy Johnson.


How about Lucy Creep? That has a nice ring to it, if you like interchanging your surname. Don't think we've forgotten about you, babe, and what we've done to your mind. We're in it as I speak, aren't we?


But that's neither here nor there. You're in our minds, too. Wink wink.


Anyway, I hate this. Really, I do. But, I've been reprogrammed... again. Did you know Daedalus was once a brain surgeon? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!


But, seriously. Here we are, starting the second season of my career. This isn't about Eden Morgan or Gabriel Baal, or Incendium, or even you, Montague. This is about me. This is about what I can accomplish. And my mind isn't set on the Co-Op titles. Hell no, my mind is focused on the World Title. You hear it here first!


...psyche, just kidding you idiot. Who do you think I am? JC? Ha! No, no, I could never be that monster. But, oh, how I'll enjoy watching the destruction he inflicts upon the rest of you. I'm a part of him... forever. Whether he likes it or not.


No, if I'm being honest, which who knows at this point, right? I have no personal quarrels with Dr. Baal nor do I with Eden Morgan?


But Tempest, what about Eden keeping secrets from you?


Bollocks to that, I say!


I mean, we've discussed it already. No harm, no foul. 


Psst. I could... smell... your fear, Eden. But, you can trust me. I would never capitalize on such a thing. No, not with an ally like you. 


Not with an ally like your husband. 


No. I... need... you.


Do you believe me?


I would.


Or would I?


But, listen... what's there to fear, really? You're main eventing the first show of the year against two unlikely partners. The magician. The tempest. Nothing naturally cohesive could come of that, right? It's an easy match put together by the front office to give Incendium a spark. Spark becomes a flame. Flame becomes a fire. Inferno fills the heart. 


Except... I thrive on unlikely partnerships, or alliances. And while I consider Incendium an ally to the Creeps... the Heart Break Creep lays down for nobody


Wait, what did I just say? 


Anyway... 


The magician and the tempest. I know what you're thinking. We're not supposed to win this match. And, while I don't care much for the thought of him stealing my spotlight, I do enjoy the thought of my allies keeping a close eye on me. Suspicious of every movement. I like this situation. I like to see just how much Eden Morgan and Dr. Baal trust me. And I'll get to see it on Monday. I'd be careful, Incendium...


And I would certainly be careful around each other. Not everything... is as it seems.