by C. T. Phipps
“Real bunch of winners you have here,” the tall black man with the creepy shadow said. Okay, seriously, I had to introduce myself.
“Hello, I am Gary Karkofsky, a.k.a Merciless: The Supervillain without Mercy! I make the villains fall down! Also, heroes.”
Okay, not my best introduction.
The newcomers exchanged a glance.
“Yeah, we know that,” the Asian woman said. “That’s why we came here to get your help.”
“And you are?” I asked, wondering who my new fans were.
“They’re John Henry Booth and Mercury Halsey Takahashi,” Cindy said, as if this was perfectly apparent.
“Wait, the protagonists from the Cthulhu Armageddon books?” I asked, surprised. “The cheesy post-apocalypse fantasy novels?”
“Protagonists?” Mercury asked.
“Everyone’s fiction is real somewhere,” Case explained to them. “It’s weird but an actual idea in string theory.”
“A sure sign of why most quantum physics is probably the result of copious pot use,” Cindy replied. “I’m dating like two physicists right now.”
“The Cthulhu Armageddon books by C.T. Phipps?” I continued, surprised. “I hate that guy! He just makes cheesy one-liners and sets his books as parodies of other, more interesting works. Like H.P. Lovecraft and you guys.”
“Huh?” John asked.
“Cthulhuworld,” I pointed out. “That’s where you’re from, right?”
Both Mercury and John flinched at the name of Cthulhu.
“Oh, right, because he’s real in your world,” I said, making finger guns. “He’s not a guy you adapted to plush toys and house slippers.”
“Cthulhu is a monster. It’s killed billions,” John said, dryly.
I grimaced. “Right, I’ll try not to mention him, Yog-Sothoth, Azathoth, Shug-Niggurath, Nyarlathotep—”
Mercury and John looked ready to duck under the nearest table.
“Hastur, Hastur again, Hastur for a third time and yet he doesn’t appear. I always thought that was cool, even if Beetlejuice and Candyman stole it. The Color from Outer Space, shoggoths, the Elder Things, the Deep Ones—”
John pulled out his sidearm and shot in the air. Little bits of plaster from the room’s ceiling rained down on us.
“Oh,” I said, pausing. “Is this bothering you?”
John narrowed his eyes.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said, shrugging. Yeah, it’s true I just can’t stop being a jackass no matter how hard I try—which usually isn’t very hard.
“I absolutely love the works of H.P. Lovecraft except for the racism and sexism. At least he had the presence of mind to marry a Jewish woman.”
“You seem oddly familiar with a semi-famous writer from the early twentieth century,” John said.
“I’m a white male tabletop roleplaying gamer who played in the early Nineties,” I said, shrugging. “He casts a big shadow in my circles even if he never made it mainstream. Mindy sleeps with a little doll of him.”
“I find that horrifying,” John said.
“Idols help ward off evil spirits,” the girl dressed like central casting’s idea of a sexy primitive tribeswoman said.
Gabrielle held Mindy close. “They need your help, Gary.”
“I didn’t think they were dropping by here for a social call,” I said, frowning. “Only my friends do that. Then they never leave. By the way, Jane, Case, I’m referring to you.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Jane said, rolling her eyes.
“So, what do you want, and how does it deal with Nazis I can kill?” I paused. “I’m up for anything involving getting out of the country and killing fascists. Mostly because I’m probably going to be a fugitive here soon.”
“Are you sure this is the guy you want to help us?” John asked Gabrielle.
“He’s usually less…murdery,” Gabrielle said.
“I’m not complaining, just asking,” John said. “Fuck Nazis.”
Okay, I was starting to like these people. Even if they did come from a silly world.
“So who are you?” I asked the blonde woman with the spear.
“I am Reyan,” the blonde woman finally spoke. “I am the Champion of Nub’Ab’Sul.”
“Not familiar with that locale, Swedish-looking tribal person,” I said.
“They’re the descendants of Vikings who descended the tunnels of Hel to the Hollow Earth,” the woman said.
I blinked. “The Hollow Earth?”
“Yes, the center of the Earth is actually a big glowing orb that is surrounded by a hollow sphere that has its own ecosystem built on the interior. It’s a place full of dinosaurs, jungles, lost civilizations, and alien peoples that predate the evolution of humanity.”
“And why haven’t I heard of this place?” I asked, blinking. “I mean aside from the fact that it violates everything we know about geology.”
“Now you’re complaining about the laws of science?” Case asked, glancing at me. “In a universe where people fly?”
“What’s weird about people flying?” I asked, confused.
Case shook his head.
“So, the Nazis are invading the Hollow Earth?” I asked, confused. “Also, how do the Cthulhu people fit into this?”
“Please stop calling us that,” Mercury said.
“I’m just asking—why me?” I’m not exactly the kind of person you’d go to for most of your heroics. Hell, Gabrielle is at the top of the list and she was right there. It’s not like any superhero ever turned down a round of Nazi bashing. Even with the death of Ultragod, the Nightwalker, Nighthuntress (oh, Mandy), Sunlight, the Prismatic Commando—okay, I was just starting to realize that a lot of heroes were dead.
“We’ll get to that. First, you have to know what the situation is,” Reyan said. “Five years ago, our world was invaded by P.H.A.N.T.O.M. Our people managed to drive off the Nazis when they invaded during World War Two, but they made random incursions in between. This time, they came to stay. They brought tanks, gunships, rocket-packs, and energy weapons. Close to ten thousand warriors set themselves up in our land before enslaving city after city. They put the people to work in mines and dig sites, attempting to unearth the ancient Pre-Atlantean ruins in search of something. We think it might be ancient Ultranian technology.”
P.H.A.N.T.O.M was the world’s largest terrorist organization. They were composed of ex-Nazis wielding weapons provided for them to by aliens like the Tsavong and Thran. The group had been kicking around since 1945 and never quite managed to be completely wiped out despite the entire world standing against them. Several times their defeat had been declared, only for them to slither off into their hole and rebuild. The Society of Superheroes thought they’d really been wiped out, five years earlier. I wasn’t surprised to find out they’d just relocated.
“The Ultranians created the Hollow Earth as a refuge for dying peoples,” Gabrielle explained. “Also for species that might otherwise be lost to history. They abandoned the facility centuries ago but left behind much of their advanced equipment. Some of this equipment is capable of visiting parallel worlds.”
Jane and Case exchanged a glance.
“Which is where you guys come in,” I pointed to John and Mercury.
“Yes,” John said, his voice deep and heavy like James Earl Jones. “Our world is a devastated wasteland, but it has powerful magical relics they’re utilizing to harness the power of the Smoky God, their miniature sun. They’ve also taken a lot of slaves from our world. We followed them back through their portal to rescue our people.”
“It’s also an opportunity,” Mercury said. “Once we’ve dealt with P.H.A.N.T.O.M, that world would be a perfect place to settle the survivors of our own. There’s not many left and this planet isn’t overrun by the Great Old Ones.”
“I’m pretty sure the locals will object,” Gabrielle said, perhaps hoping to head off the Age of Imperialism 2.0.
“We will be happy to let some of them stay,”
Reyan said. “As long as they don’t bring smallpox, venereal disease, or false religions. We worship the one true god Odin and his relations.”
“Yes,” Jane interjected. “Make sure you give any and all European-descended people hand sanitizer. You won’t regret it.”
“Right, so Nazis in the center of the Earth, stealing crap, and doing their usual Nazi thing. Go kill them. So far, this is very straightforward.”
“You have a different definition of straightforward than I do,” Case said, looking over at me.
I waved him away. “What’s the catch? Why are you coming to me? I mean, this seems like a typical job for the Society of Superheroes. They are, after all, a literal army of good guys meant to take down threats no one hero can accomplish.”
Last I checked, the Society of Superheroes had been taken over by Ultragodling. Ultragod’s foster son and boy sidekick (now a man in his late forties) had replaced Guinevere and taken the organization in a more militant, pro-government direction. He hadn’t gotten superheroes authorized to operate in the United States yet but was close. I didn’t like the guy, since he considered me to have stained Gabrielle’s honor or something.
Gabrielle played with Mindy’s nose before answering. “That’s the catch. We didn’t come to you first, Gary. The Society of Superheroes went to liberate the Hollow Earth last week. I was there. We lost. They’ve all been captured by P.H.A.N.T.O.M.”
CHAPTER FOUR
ON OUR WAY TO THE HOLLOW EARTH
“Say what?” I asked, stunned. “The Society of Superheroes has been captured?”
“Is that bad?” Jane asked.
“On a scale of one to ten, it’s about a million,” I said, trying to wrap my head around it. “Are they missing or dead?”
Ever since the day I’d won the Tournament of Supervillainy, I had harbored a very real fear that this day would come: the day when the superheroes lost completely. Before I’d made my stupid wish to make death permanent, the Primal known as Destruction had kept the war between good and evil a stalemate. Villains would always escape imprisonment and heroes would always rally back after defeats. Even death was a minor inconvenience (for “interesting” people at least). No one could win and the only people who would permanently suffer were those caught in the crossfire.
I thought things would get better once consequences were real. That good would triumph over evil and we could make the world a better place. I hadn’t really thought the bad guys would get the upper hand. I was, in simple terms, a complete moron for thinking this.
“Missing,” Gabrielle said, sighing. “Ultragodling led the Society of Superheroes straight into a P.H.A.N.T.O.M ambush. It was a hard fight, but the Smokey God is a kind of giant magical battery that saps the power of any non-mystical heroes. The rest put up a valiant fight, but P.H.A.N.T.O.M has its own mystical corps in the Ghostappo.”
Jane lifted her hand. “Hold on a second, it’s actually called the Ghostappo?”
“Yes,” Gabrielle said. “It’s a play on Gesta—”
“Yeah, I get that, but it’s only a pun that makes sense in English,” Jane interjected.
“Technically, it would be Geistappo in Germany,” Case said, speaking dozens of languages thanks to his built-in Babelfish. “Which sorta works I guess, but—”
“Are we actually arguing about puns here?” Gabrielle asked, shaking her head.
“Puns are serious business for weredeer,” I pointed out. “They’re like garlic to vampires.”
“It is the stupidest weakness of all time,” Jane pointed out. “However, we can’t resist them. They call to us like…puns to a weredeer.”
Yeah, Jane isn’t very good at speaking in metaphor. She could, however, make puns out of words like rutabaga. No, I’m not sharing it. You had to be there.
“So, you were there?” I asked Gabrielle. “I mean, fighting alongside Ultragodling in the Hollow Earth.”
Gabrielle nodded. “He prefers to be called Captain Ultra now.”
“I’m sure he does,” I said, genuinely hurt by her actions. “Not the point.”
Gabrielle looked confused. “What is the point?”
“You were going to risk yourself against an army of P.H.A.N.T.O.M goons and didn’t think to take me? I know you can handle most things, Gabby, but maybe you should have your partner when the big team-up events happen.”
Jane leaned over and whispered to Case, “Does it weird you out that they talk like they’re in a comic book even though they’re real people?”
“Everything about this world weirds me out,” Case said. “It’s why I love it.”
“Hush, you two,” I said, not turning to face them. “Comic books are high art on my world.”
Gabrielle looked guilty. “You haven’t been yourself for a while, Gary.”
“Yeah, mourning a dead wife will do that,” Cindy said, crossing her arms. “So, Nubile Savage Lady, if we save your kingdom, do you have any awesome statues of gold or magical doohickeys that bestow eternal youth on beautiful educated professionals like myself?”
“We don’t need to be paid to fight P.H.A.N.T.O.M, Cindy,” I said, looking at her. “Punching fascists is its own reward.”
“No,” Cindy said, pointing. “Uh-huh, Gary. We’re not going down that road.”
“What road?” I asked.
“I’ve put up with a lot of selfless altruistic bullshit over the years. Fighting bad guys, giving away more than a tax write-off’s portion of our loot, and hanging around superheroes, but we’re not doing anything—even fighting P.H.A.N.T.O.M—for free. We have standards to uphold,” Cindy said, pointing at me. “Or violate. We are villains, goddammit and that means something.”
“They actually call themselves villains here?” Mercury asked, looking at John.
“They live in mansions, eat regularly, and don’t have to worry about monsters eating them,” John said, shrugging. “The rich have always been a little strange.”
“It’s the least strange thing about this place,” Jane said.
“The strangest thing is when cartoon animals show up,” Case said. “Though we were all being poisoned by Doctor Feelgreat at the time.”
“Good times,” Cindy said, smiling.
“Do not mock Mouseless,” I said, pointing at them. “The Mouse without Mercy™ is a dear friend.”
“Cindy, you’re better than this,” Gabrielle said, her voice soft and reassuring. “You want to help us for free.”
“I’m really not,” Cindy insisted. She then pointed at Jane. “Do you know how pathetic I’ve become because of my looming old age? I’ve considered letting myself get infected by the weredeer disease!”
“Weredeer are not diseased!” Jane snapped.
“Who knows what ticks and weird stuff you carry in that short brown hair of yours!” Cindy said. “No, if I’m helping, I want some of that Ultranian underground super-science to make me young and sexy forever. I need to avoid lime disease if I’m going to be around Jane.”
“That’s it!” Jane grabbed a two-hundred-pound cheetah-print couch and swung it at her. Case, in the way, ducked.
Cindy, being absurdly acrobatic, dodged out of the way with a backflip.
“Is this normal around here?” Mercury asked.
“I dunno,” I said, ignoring their antics behind me. “What generally happens in your world when you meet new and untrustworthy people?”
“I shoot them in the face,” John said.
I blinked. “Okay.”
“Sometimes I hex them,” Mercury said. “A few even like it.”
I waved. “Anyway, we’ll work on the payment issue later. I’ll pay Cindy myself if I have to.”
John raised his hand. “Don’t. I wouldn’t ask you to go on a mission like this for free. We’re not savages who depend on the kindness of strangers.”
I nodded. “Bust a deal, get the wheel. It’s the law of Thunderdome.”
Gabrielle looked offended. “Surely, we can persuade them to act out of the kind
ness of their hearts.”
“I love killing slavers back where I’m from, but I still charge for it,” John said, having the same attitude toward them I do toward fascists. “P.H.A.N.T.O.M has assembled a vast treasure of stolen loot from temples, palaces, and other worlds. We split it four ways. Half of it goes back to its original owners. The other half we can divide between our two groups.”
“So, you and Mercury get twenty-five percent and my entire gang gets the same?” I asked, looking over at Cindy and Jane. Case was filming their fight with his cellphone.
“SPINNING DEER KICK!” Jane shouted.
“TASER!” Cindy replied, equally loud.
“That’s cheating!” Jane said, following a shocking noise.
“Villain!” Cindy gloated.
“Could you do some more hair-pulling?” Case asked. “Maybe tear at each other’s clothing? HEY! WATCH WHERE YOU THROW THAT COUCH.”
I looked back at them. “Sounds good. I can assure you we have nothing but the best people here.”
“Uh-huh,” Mercury said. Under her breath she added, “This is a horrible mistake and we are all going to die.”
Clearly, she was the brains of this outfit.
“I do not care about the trinkets of gold and jewels that P.H.A.N.T.O.M has looted,” Reyan said, narrowing her eyes. “I only ask that one item be returned to my people: The Eye of Odin.”
“Like his literal eye? The one he sacrificed for great wisdom?” I asked, just wanting to be clear.
Everyone looked at me.
“What? You think I can talk at great lengths about the works of H.P. Lovecraft but don’t know basic Norse mythology?” I asked.
Everyone continued to look at me, giving me my answer.
“You guys suck,” I said.
“The Eye of Odin is my people’s most sacred relic,” Reyan continued, apparently not aware that I’d heard a lot of similar stories over the years. Every tribe had a sacred relic the Nazis were after, including my twelve tribes and a certain ark. “It bestows the wearer with great mystical might and allows him, or her, to dominate lesser wills completely. It can also open doorways to other worlds. Their leader, the Supreme Phantom, is using it to prepare for something—”