Whispers of Madness

Algeron Marshweeve/Eldritch, Helen Mintrayal/Miss Fortune, Andy Odderwald/Mindwalker, Herschel Menofsky/Clay, Rudy Nettlefisk/Father Az and the Lacunae created by me
Kuwanna Moore/Ranger and Colmaton universe created by TRAIN
Dietrich von Stoop/Perceptor co-owned by MojoRover and jrcarter
Elaine Whitecloud/Morningstar, Dunstan Howe/Dyno-Donkey Simon Valant/Atomic Ape, Sebastian Coldean/Zap Cannon, Maggie Mills/Lady Boomerang, Percival McLeash/Vortex and Bureau of Superheroes created by MojoRover
Aisha Thomas/Lightshow and Joseph Thomas/Combat created by JrCarter
Edward Brewer/Mad Hat created by LordJaguar
Miranda Scopes/Laser Vixen created by SamGwosdz
Jason Mills/Slipstream created by GameGod210

Algeron Marshweeve stretched, feeling exceptionally cramped. Airlines these days. This was why he was loath to travel. Sure, he would gladly spend all day sitting in the same chair, reading the latest best seller or leafing through a classic text, but he needed space to fidget, to move. Besides, it was a long flight from Chicago to Colmaton, and he was bored. All of the magazines in front of him had been consumed before the plane had even taken off, the in-flight movie was an insipidly terrible romance, and because he had been packing light, he had only one book with him.

THAT book.

The hybrid raccoon-wolf was a bibliophile in every way, but he wanted to read from that featureless, leather-bound tome as little as possible.

The only thing keeping him from going completely stir-crazy was the thought of going to Colmaton. Colmaton, the Superheroine City! A place of excitement and action! And, perhaps more importantly, a hotspot for the unusual. Al had always felt an affinity for the bizarre and inexplicable, even before he had found...it. And the enormous city in California certainly fit the bill! He had calculated that it had the greatest concentration of super-powered individuals in all of America, if not the entire world.

The ding from the PA system interrupted his musings. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our final descent into Colmaton airspace. If you are up and about in the cabin, please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts. In preparation for landing, please return your seat backs and tray tables to their upright position, turn off all personal electronic items, and return your carry-on luggage to the overhead bins or under the seat in front of you."

Al's eyes lit up hearing that. He quickly opened his window, gazing out at what had to be the largest city he had ever seen in his life. He doubted even Chicago had a more magnificent skyline. And he wouldn't have to worry about the weather constantly going foul in the winter, either.

"All the leaves are brown," he sang almost inaudibly to himself, "and the skies are grey. I went out for a walk, on a winter's day. California dreaming..."

---

The next morning, Al walked into the Fur-For-All Hair Salon, smiling at the doe behind the reception desk.

"Hi. I was supposed to have an appointment for tomorrow, but I just got into town and I want a look at the place."

"Certainly, sir. Just enter the red door on your right and we'll be with you in a minute."

Al silently nodded in appreciation and walked through the door, which immediately closed behind him. "Never liked this part," he muttered as a panel slid back, revealing a set of computer monitors and an optical scanner.

"BEGIN IDENTIFICATION VERIFICATION. PLACE CHIN ON CHINREST TO BEGIN RETINAL SCAN."

Al nestled his chin on the apparatus and held his eye open as a thin beam of light flickered over his pupil. The monitors rapidly flashed green.

"RETINA IDENTIFICATION CONFIRMED, OPERATIVE CM42. BEGIN VOICE IDENTIFICATION."

"That is not dead which eternal may lie," Al remarked in a grave voice.

"VOICE IDENTIFICATION CONFIRMED, OPERATIVE CM42. YOU ARE PERMITTED TO ENTER."

The panels slid back, revealing a reception room, where a goat rapidly typed on a computer.

"Oh, hello," she said. "Welcome to Colmaton Headquarters. Are you...?"

"Yes. Eldritch. Got in from Chicago yesterday." He seemed a bit detached, looking about.

"Well, Ranger, Morningstar, and Dyno-Donkey are waiting for you in the main office."

Al simply nodded silently and walked to the room. Opening the doors, he found himself faced with three very imposing figures. Dunstan Howe, AKA Dyno-Donkey, the Director of Relations for the American Bureau of Superheroes. Kuwanna Moore, AKA Ranger, one of the leading figures in the Colmaton branch of the Bureau. And Elaine Whitecloud, AKA Morningstar, the de facto National Heroine of the United States of America.

All three of them could likely tear the hybrid in two before he could even blink.

"Please, sit down," said Dyno-Donkey. Al wordlessly took his seat, while Dunstan did the same, opening his file.

"I've gotten your profile and records from Atomic Ape, and as much as he blusters, I have to say, I agree with his...concern. The fact that your powers are fueled by your sanity is not unique, Mad Hat is the same, but the fact that the resulting psychosis is completely random can make you a loose cannon. Not only that, your disciplinary record shows that you have a tendency to be easily distracted and overly trusting."

"I...I know, sir," Al said, his ears drooping. "I have clear memory of every time I overdrew on my power. Except for the page fifty-two incident. As for the other issues, I'm trying to work on those."

"And we'll help," Ranger affirmed. "We've all had trouble controlling our powers at one point or another. We cover each other's weaknesses. That's what teamwork is all about, right?"

Al nodded mutely.

"Well, Reginald has your costume ready. Go ahead and get some breakfast and meet some of the other members. You'll fit in just fine."

"Thanks," Al replied. As he got up, he desperately hoped that Ranger was right.

---

The cafeteria wasn't as busy as it usually was, partially because many of the Colmaton Bureau members ate their breakfast at home. Eldritch sighed as he looked at the nearly empty room. Mindwalker was there, carefully making some pancakes with his single arm, while Perceptor waited impatiently. The meerkat hybrid noticed Eldritch enter, and immediately got up and walked towards him, apparently with no regard for personal space.

"Herr Marshweeve," growled the Head of Internal Affairs, "I haf read your reports thoroughly. Rest assured, ve are not going to allow you to get avay vif any shenanigans here." Eldritch rapidly moved his attention elsewhere when Preceptor attempted to lock eyes with him. "Do you haf something to hide, Eldritch? Vhy are you avoiding mein eyes?"

"I don't feel comfortable looking in people's eyes," Al said flatly.

"PERCEPTOR. YOUR POTATO PANCAKES ARE READY."

Perceptor gave Eldritch one more glare before stalking off towards Mindwalker, who was telekinetically flipping the hotcakes onto a plate. A Sphinx cat in a dapper outfit and top hat, gave Eldritch a clap on the back.

"Don't worry about Preceptor! He always goes after the fresh meat hard. The name's Mad Hat!"

He extended a hand, which Eldritch accepted. He immediately regretted it as a harmless, but painful electric shock went through his palm, prompting him to nearly jump out of his trench coat. The cat laughed, revealing a joy buzzer strapped over his glove. Eldritch replied with an attempted scowl that degenerated into almost silent chuckles.

"Sorry! It's the hat!"

After regaining his composure, Eldritch went over to the open table and simply pulled out a packet of hot chocolate and one of instant oatmeal. Emptying both packets into a bowl, he poured in some hot water and stirred it into an unappetizing-looking mush. Mad Hat raised an eyebrow at this.

"Trying to do that deleted scene from Monty Python?"

"It tastes better than it looks," Eldritch said with a grin, digging into the slop with a smile. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out one of the few electronic devices he enjoyed using - an electronic newspaper. With a few deft flicks of his fingers, he pulled up the local news. Most of it was about superhero activity (unsurprisingly), but he noticed something interesting in the Arts and Culture section.

"Hmm. That's interesting."

"So there is a curse," Mad Hat said in his best Johnny Depp voice.

"No, here. Somebody's producing a play based on H.P. Lovecraft's 'The Shadow Over Innsmouth'. It had a lot of racist undertones to it, but it's still considered a classic of American horror."

"Huh, never heard of it."

"Basic plot is a guy visits a creepy little town called Innsmouth, and hears a bunch of crazy talk about how it's dominated by a family that trades living sacrifices and breeding rights with fish-like monsters in exchange of gold, fish, and safety. Then he stays overnight, and finds out that it's not just a rumor, and he gets chased out of town by the creatures. He calls the authorities and they raid the town and blow up the reef, but then he finds out that his mother was from Innsmouth, and he's destined to turn into one."

Mad Hat just took a bite out of his ham and eggs, looking very incredulous.

"Yeah. Like I said, racist undertones. But it was the creepiest thing America had produced since Poe."

"Mon dieu...Lady Boomerang! Zey are just scrambled eggs? How could you possibly burn those?"

Mad Hat and Eldritch both sniffed at the air and simultaneously agreed to move to the far end of the cafeteria, as a skunk boar continued to berate a kangaroo flyer.

---

Antoine Early looked over the score. A large number of actors were congregated before him, each holding a copy of the lyrics. Most of them looked a bit confused.

"Uh, Mr. Early," one asked, "what language is this in?"

"It's not a real language," the goat replied. "In Lovecraft's stories, the Deep One's language was never fully detailed, apart from it being a growling, croaking language. Thanks to our esteemed lyricist, Mr. Finneas Bogg, we've been able to get something that sounds rather alien without tearing up your throats."

The chorus chuckled at that, while a sickly-looking hellbender nodded in acknowledgement. After a few quick coughs, he spoke in a thin, reedy voice.

"Now, I've written the lyrics phonetically to avoid the mish-mash of consonants that Lovecraft enjoyed using so much. Feel free to write it in a different way if you find it misleading. Now, let's go over "Disquieting Murmurs," shall we?" At a nod, the conductor lifted his baton.

---

Eldritch examined his costume with obvious approval. He had shrunk his book down to the size of a small notebook, easily fitting in the chest pocket of his trenchcoat. He also wore a fedora, thin gloves, and a pair of hiking boots. Underneath, he wore a simple long-sleeve shirt and khaki pants. His identity was preserved by a simple domino mask. A few of the newer agents looked on questioningly.

"A trenchcoat? What, too modest for the usual spandex?"

Eldritch looked back at the speaker - a golden furred fox hybrid in a lime green halter top and miniskirt.

"As a matter of fact, it's an homage to the twenties private eye. As for modesty, trust me, I'm not the kind of guy who has a body worth showing off."

"And why are you always carrying that book around," asked the bikini clad Laser Vixen. Floating overhead, the blindfolded cougar known as Slipstream gave an impish grin.

"Isn't it obvious? He's like Kakashi - always carrying the latest issue in the "Make Out" series!"

Eldritch pulled the book out of his pocket, startling everyone as it rapidly grew to a large size. The book appeared entirely nondescript, with no title or decorations on its leather cover.

"This...is the Libris Lacunae, the Book of Empty Spaces. Here, look at its pages. Notice anything odd?"

Slipstream swooped in and grabbed it, pretending to take a long look at it.

"I don't know. Does it come in Braille?"

Laser Vixen took the book, grinning at Slipstream's typical cheesy jokes. Her expression quickly changed to one of confusion as she flipped through the pages.

"I don't get it. It...it's completely blank!" Miss Fortune quickly looked over her fellow vixen's shoulder, her eyes briefly glowing gold.

"Wow. My spirits can't see anything either. But there's definitely something mystical about this book."

"It's pretty much like a copy of the Necronomicon that only I can read," Eldritch explained. "It gives me access to a lot of arcane knowledge, and lets me cast a large variety of spells. But, it comes with a heavy price." The hybrid sighed as he accepted back the book. "It's very premise sounds like madness. It says that reality and fantasy are products of one another, and that the spells are powered by energy from the gaps between realities, the Lacunae. Problem is, it makes you nuts. For routine stuff, it's pretty mild - nightmares, tics, stuff like that. But if I use it too much, I can become a threat to everything nearby."

The trio fell silent at that. At least for a while, before Slipstream gave another rogueish grin.

"Well, guess that one's never going to make the best seller's list!"

Any further conversation was cut off by an alert over their communicators.

"Eldritch, grab everyone nearby and get to Vortex. There's been an unknown creature spotted in downtown Colmaton, and it's nearly eaten three civilians."

The four ran into the ready room, where a portly woodchuck quickly created a portal. Jumping through, they were confronted by panicking citizens and a large, blobbish something. It was green and amorphous, completely lacking in any form of symmetry. Eyes constantly emerged from its slimy skin, only to dissolve back inside again. Miss Fortune scoffed and bent her fingers, which shimmered with the silvery energy of her jinxes.

"I've seen more intimidating things in a petri dish. Come on, you lump of mucus, let's see what you've got!"

The creature trained a few eyes on Miss Fortune and burbled something impossible for mortal tongues to replicate. As it began to shuffle forwards, it sprouted several tentacles. Miss Fortune's eyes went wide, and ran back through the portal as quickly as possible.

"Laser Vixen, what happened? Why is Miss Fortune back at base cowering in the bathroom?"

"It's got tentacles." Evidently, that was explanation enough.

"Right. Reinforcements are on the way."

Laser Vixen holstered her communicator and raised a hand to her visor. "Right. Slipstream, make sure it doesn't get too close. Eldritch, you...Eldritch?"

She looked around and quickly spotted the new arrival. He was calmly standing about 4 yards from the creature, with his book open. He seemed to be paying no attention to his surroundings, instead carefully walking around, poking and pulling at the air with fingers wreathed in black energy.

"Eldritch, do you mind?"

"Quiet. This is important."

Laser Vixen rolled her eyes, before unleashing a carefully aimed blast at the creature. It gave an unearthly shriek as one of its tentacles withered, but it simply sprouted another one and attempted to charge forward, only to be held at bay by a powerful blast of wind from Slipstream's arms. Meanwhile, Eldritch continued to wander about, making strange gestures.

A squad car showed up, and a Great Dane wearing shades climbed out, taking up an expert shooting stance behind his car.

"Don't worry, supers! Cash Tankerson has this handled!"

Laser Vixen groaned, just as Texas Tilly, Silver, and Gatling Goat stepped through the portal. Cash emptied his clip into the creature. Its skin quivered, but it didn't even seem to be wounded. Instead, it simply shifted direction and started sliding towards the squad car at a surprising pace. Laser Vixen quickly got its attention back with a laser blast, accompanied by one from Silver.

"Hey, get back to the kitchen, ladies! Cash doesn't need your help!"

"FALSE," exclaimed Silver. "ANALYSIS CONCLUDES THAT CONVENTIONAL AMMUNITION HAS MINIMAL IMPACT ON THIS ORGANISM'S HEALTH."

"Cash doesn't take orders from robot ponies!"

Eldritch held up a hand, flipping through his book carefully.

"I'm trying to concentrate here!"

Texas Tilly and Gatling Goat added their own firepower to Cash's, keeping its attention split, with Slipstream hindering its progress with powerful blasts of wind. After a few minutes of this, Cash reached for his belt and came up with an empty magazine.

"Crap! Cash is out of ammo!"

"You don't need any more," Eldritch proclaimed, finally seeming to focus on the threat at hand. "If you draw it's attention now, it would likely envelop you and digest you like an amoeba. That's how shoggoths feed, after all."

"If ya know what this durned critter is, why ain't ya fightin' it?"

Texas Tilly angrily pointed her six-shooter at a random spot on the creature and shot without looking. With a screech, the shoggoth deflated into a squamous mass, slowly bubbling and eating a hole in the pavement. Eldritch clapped his book shut and pushed his fedora up.

"That's why. It's digestive vacuole was almost ready to rupture. And with the number of bullets you were putting in it, it was almost ready to blow." He nonchalantly pulled out his communicator. "HQ, the threat is neutralized. But you might want to call Hazmat - it left a bit of a mess."

He then promptly walked straight past the bubbling mass, seemingly oblivious to the angry glares of his teammates.

---

"I'm tellin' ya, the hombre's plump loco!"

"AFFIRMATIVE. ELDRITCH'S BEHAVIOR DURING THE INCIDENT WAS CLEARLY ABBERANT."

Ranger leafed through the reports that had been filed with incredible speed by all those involved, frowning.

"We were warned this might happen," the Bionic Bruin said. "According to his file, Eldritch is mildly autistic. However, it seems he knew exactly what was going on."

"Then why didn't he do anything," insisted Laser Vixen.

"Remember, his powers are fueled by his own sanity. Judging by the descriptions you gave of this...shoggoth...he likely would have had to expend a considerable amount of energy to kill the thing, when sheer firepower was sufficient to do the trick."

"That's no explanation. We've all seen Mad Hat when he's gone a bit over the deep end..."

"My madness is nothing like that of Mad Hat." The group turned around to see Eldritch walking in, holding his own field report. "Sorry it took so long. I had to describe what I found out analyzing the scene. Nothing conclusive, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean, nothing like Mad Hat?"

Eldritch sat down in the office, his face dropping.

"You all know about the Chicago Incident, right?"

That went without saying. The Chicago Incident was the deliberate release of a supercharged version of the dreaded New York Virus, engineered by the mad scientist known as Hazmat. Many of those who didn't die of the disease turned into crazed mutants, resulting in large-scale destruction that had been narrowly contained by the local BOS.

"This is strictly off of the public record, but I was there. I was stuck in a badly infested neighborhood. My partner had been disabled, and magic blasts weren't enough to drive them back, so I decided to fight back by summoning inklings - they're a kind of Lacunaean. They aren't terribly strong, but they were enough to overwhelm the mutants in the area. Thing is, even after they were all dead, I..." his ears drooped in shame. "I kept summoning them. I'd gone into a manic, obsessive state, where all I could focus on was summoning more and more inklings. And they began attacking everything else in the area - buildings, cars, civilians, each other, everything. If it weren't for my partner managing to knock me unconcious, I could have potentially breached the fabric of reality and caused the magical equivalent of a 20 megaton nuclear explosion."

Everyone in the group was silent. Not even Slipstream was able to crack a joke.

"Besides, there's also something else. Shoggoths don't naturally occur in this reality. They have to be summoned. So what we were fighting wasn't the main threat..."

"It was a minion," Ranger said, looking over Eldritch's statement. "Understood. We'll stay on the lookout for more of these strange creatures. In the meantime, dismissed."

The group filled out of Ranger's office, leaving Ranger alone to consider just what kind of furson they had accepted into the headquarters that morning.

---

"He's autistic?"

Miss Fortune nodded at the Savannah cat sitting next to her as she took another bite of her salad.

"That's what Ranger said. But it explains a lot. Why he never looks anyone in the eyes, why he stays by himself all the time, why he acts like a condescending know-it-all..."

"Yes, he does come off as a bit of a jerk," Lightshow agreed. "But it seems like he means well. He snapped at Cheshire Cat earlier, but he apologized right afterwards. And he seems very respectful to Combat in the dojo."

"Wait, you mean he practices martial arts?" Miss Fortune looked at Lightshow incredulously. "Never would have pegged him for somebody who does hand to hand."

"Well, cousin Joe says so," Lightshow continued. "He showed up with his own gi and everything. Evidently, he trains almost exclusively in aikido."

"I know that for sure," remarked a massive bruin encased completely in clay. "I got paired up with him in practice, and I thought my pankreaton would corner him pretty fast. Instead, I wound up with my butt on the mat nine times out of ten." Clay sat down and eagerly opened his bowl of beef stew, making his protective covering retract so he could eat normally.

"He put YOU on the mat? But you can lift 20 tons!"

"Doesn't matter too much if you don't connect," the bear remarked.

"I saw him, too, ya know." Everyone tried not to notice as Lady Boomerang sat down next to Clay, sliding up close to him. "He doesn't look like a very fit bloke, but it's like he transforms when he gets on the mat. He starts standing up straight, sucks his stomach in, and fair dinkum he's kind of cute. Like you, Hershey."

Clay, who's real name was Herschel, edged away from the kangaroo flier. "Don't call me Hershey," he grumbled, "and I'm not interested in how 'cute' I am."

"Relax a bit," Lady Boomerang insisted, putting her hand on Clay's solid bicep and giving it a less than subtle squeeze. "You're never going to find a sheila willing to share your bunk if you're always so stiff."

"Share my..."

Clay rapidly grew stiff, a terrified look on his face. Miss Fortune laughed, while Lightshow shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Congratulations, Lady Boom. You just crashed Herschel's brain. You know how he gets whenever somebody brings up sex."

The sound of the general alert interrupted their conversation.

"Attention. Unknown creature has been seen outside the Savannah Hotel, generating cyclone-force winds. Available agents please respond."

Slipstream zipped through the air, yelling "Not my fault!"

---

When Eldritch arrived on the scene, it was pure chaos. The air was filled with debris ranging from bits of dust to fully loaded garbage cans, accompanied by incredibly loud, high-pitched whistling. He had to cling to his fedora to keep it from being lost, and his trenchcoat felt like it was going to be torn from his body. Regardless, he opened his book and whispered words that he should not have been able to pronounce. Nearby, Slipstream was struggling to hold the gusts in check.

"And they call me a windbag," he chuckled. "This thing's blowing more hot air than Washington D.C."

"And here I thought this was going to be a breeze," Mad Hat laughed, scanning the skies for whatever was causing the disturbance. "Now, where's our little hurricane wannabe?"

"It's there all right," Slipstream yelled, "I can feel it in the winds."

"Well, I can't see it! And I can barely hear over this whistling! Are we being attacked by the seven dwarves? Or maybe an invisible army from Bridge Over The River Kwai!"

"Flying Polyp."

Slipstream and Mad Hat turned towards Eldritch with a simultaneous "What?"

"It's a flying polyp! They can turn invisible, but they can't stop making that whistling sound while they are! Just give me a minute, I've almost got a good reading on where this thing is coming from!"

"We don't have a minute," Slipstream shouted as he saw a pedestrian narrowly escape a stray rock that had turned into a deadly missile. "We're going to have to take this thing down now!"

Eldritch sighed, then turned to another page in his book.

"Right! This should make it visible!"

He began to speak and raised his hand, letting his fedora fly away. Black smoke began to pour from Eldritch's palm, picked up in the heavy winds and sent in every direction. Slowly, but surely, a bizarre, convoluted form faded into being. It was hollow, surrounded by thin tendrils, as well as several thicker ones along the circumference of one end. Mad Hat took the opportunity while it was present and pointed his cane at the creature, spraying it with ice. The whistling intensified to almost a screech, as the tubular menace began to falter in mid-air.

"Should be nice and freezer burned now," yelled Mad Hat. "What do you say we make like Gallager, Slipstream?"

The flying cougar grinned, and abruptly summoned a massive downdraft. The flying polyp didn't have enough time to compensate. There was a loud thud, followed by a skittering noise as bits of frozen abomination broke off and scattered across the street. Mad Hat pumped his arms in triumph.

"Woohoo! Time for more paperwork! Wait. What did I just say?"

"You're Clay in diguise, aren't you," joked Slipstream. "Only one way to tell for sure. Sex!" When Mad Hat didn't react, Slipstream shrugged and drifted off. "Okay. Guess you're the real deal."

---

"Let me tell you something, sensei. Having powers that run on your own sanity sucks."

The rest of the day and the whole of the night had passed without incident. However, eldritch still showed up at the crack of dawn, looking rather fatigued. Joseph Thomas, also known as Combat, raised an eyebrow at his latest student.

"Something wrong? It looks like you were awake all night."

"Pretty close to it, sensei. I didn't use much of my power yesterday, but it was still enough to keep me awake until two in the morning." He slowly mixed up his usual mixture of hot chocolate and oatmeal. "I did manage to use the time to study what I've already come up with on these monsters suddenly appearing all over town." He opened the Libris Lacunae and tapped the page, muttering a few words. a strange alien script blossomed before Combat's eyes, weaving across the page, and occasionally above and below it.

"Looking at this isn't going to drive me insane, is it?"

"No. This is just a way to help visualize what I've discovered." Eldritch poked a finger at a few of the segments. "These bits here and here are indicative that this is a blend of arcane and Lacunaean magic. That's indicative of cultist behavior - it's fueled by both worldly and unworldly means. However," he continued, pointing to a line of script that curled off into nowhere, "the intent that's guiding the power is significantly weaker than whatever is channeling the power. In other words, the people who are generating the power for these summonings..."

"Have no idea what they're doing," Combat muttered.

"Exactly. That makes it a bigger risk. People could begin repeating this without adding their own control to it. That's about as safe as running a nuclear power plant without containment. The source could be a song, a game, a play..." Eldritch suddenly went silent, mouthing words to himself. Without warning, he began to shovel down his breakfast as quickly as possible. Combat recognized the look on Eldritch's face. It was the same look he'd seen on people's faces when they put the pieces together on something that had been bothering them, and had drawn a terrible, but unavoidable conclusion.

"What is it?"

"The new play." Eldritch quickly pulled out his electronic newspaper, rapidly flipping through the pages. "The one based on Lovecraft. According to these announcements, they had rehearsals at the same times that those monsters began appearing. Something in the play is summoning these monsters," he concluded, running towards the men's locker room with a cheek full of oatmeal. "And it has to stop."

---

"Finally," Miss Fortune said, hooking her fingers. "Something without tentacles!"

"Are you sure this is much better," asked Clay.

The group was staring at numerous, large spider-like creatures. Unlike a normal spider, each one was large enough to easily knock aside a car, and they all had an odd number of legs. Venom dripped from their fangs as they stared at the BOS agents with disturbingly intelligent eyes.

"Oy gevalt," Clay muttered. "Only woman I know who would prefer fighting a giant spider than a blob."

"It had tentacles, okay?"

"Speaking of tentacles," said Laser Vixen, looking at a new addition to the group. He had once been a normal mink, but now his back and neck were enveloped with muscular humps. Three extra arms jutted from his right shoulder and his back, and tentacles jutted from smaller humps dotted all over his torso. He wore a cowl emblazoned with a pentagram surrounding a palm leaf, and his black costume had an odd detail of a priest's collar.

"Father Az," remarked Clay. "First time in the field?"

"It is indeed, Clay." Father as raised a hand, then made a rapid downward gesture at the nearest spider. It hissed as it struggled to remain standing, only to collapse in a heap as gravity's pull inexplicable increased. Clay quickly ran over and slammed his mineral-covered fist into its cephalothorax, releasing a noxious spray of gore.

"Why isn't Eldritch here," asked Laser Vixen, dodging a flailing leg before nailing it with an optic blast. A loud boom echoed from behind her, and she turned to see a fire hydrant knocking a spider onto its back with a massive chunk taken from its carapace. Miss Fortune turned and threw another bolt of silvery energy at the charging monsters.

"He's taking care of the source!"

---

Eldritch stole quietly through the halls of the community center. He could hear the sound of harsh, croaking chants echoing down the halls. The Libris Lacunae's pages were rustling ominously, an unhealthy black aura surrounding it and absorbing the ambient light.

This was definitely the source. He ran for the choir room, bursting in on a room where a hellbender and a goat were conducting a choir dressed in odd robes.

"Stop! BOS!"

Everyone froze. Except Antoine Early, the goat. Instead, he bolted. Eldritch took off in hot pursuit, chasing him through the halls until he was backstage at the theatre. Eldritch muttered to himself, drawing black energy out of his book and into his paw.

"You're the only one that ran, sir. You are aware of what this implies."

BANG!

Eldritch jumped back as the floorboards near his feet shattered, looking up, he saw Mr. Early adjusting his aim. Thrusting out his arm, Eldritch sent a black bolt flying, forcing the goat to take cover.

"Why are you doing this, Mr. Antoine Early?" He had a gun, Eldritch thought to himself. He hated guns. Magic and hand-to-hand combat he could deal with, but against a bullet he was nothing but another furson. Another shot punched through a plyboard car, sending the hybrid staggering away.

"Another user of the arcane arts? Fool, how could you interrupt the glorious work of Yog-Sothoth? He will emerge, and he will unify the worlds and bring paradise!"

Yog-Sothoth. Most people thought it was pure fiction, but Eldritch knew that it was a powerful being of the Lacunae. He also knew that Yog-Sothoth was a judge of realities, and that drawing his attention was a potential death sentence for the world. Another shot whistled past his ear with a soft zing. First things first, Eldritch thought to himself. Deal with the gun. He once again opened his book and began to read rapidly.

Mr. Early lined up another shot at Eldritch, but was dismayed when a black aura surrounded his pistol, causing it to crumble. Snarling, the goat glared down at the hero, who grinned maniacally.

"There's a big difference between us. I KNOW I'm half-crazy."

Mr. Early ran along the rafters of the stage, dodging blasts of Lacunaean energy. Looking down again, he saw Eldritch step over a mark on the stage floor. With a slasher grin of his own, Mr. Early produced a knife and slashed through the rope holding a backdrop in place. Before Eldritch could dodge, a massive, non-Euclidean scenery came down on his arm, knocking the Libris Lacunae from his grasp. Eldritch came to rest on one side, the book on the other. Mr. Early laughed triumphantly, running down to the stage floor as Eldritch got to his feet.

"You lose, agent," he snarled. "I know your type. Without that book, you have nothing!"

If he had a firmer grasp on his sanity, Mr. Early might have noticed the subtle change in Eldritch's body language. The hybrid's normally curved spine straightened as he stood up straight, and his feet carefully shuffled into a hamne stance. With a cry, Mr. Early charged at Eldritch, thrusting out to stab him in the chest.

What happened next was almost too fast to recognize. Eldritch stepped out of the line of attack and rapidly brought his arm up, grasping Mr. Early's wrist with his other hand. With a powerful, lunging step, Eldritch slammed his knee into the goat's leg, then lunged again, dropping to his knees and pulling Mr. Early along for the ride. Finally, with a deft twist, he wrapped his arms around Mr. Early's. The goat roared and tried to stand up, only to fall to the ground as a trio of sickening pops emerged from his limb.

"Correction," Eldritch sternly informed the goat, who was screaming over his dislocated joints. "I also have a fifth-level black belt in aikido." Snapping some handcuffs onto Mr. Early, he pulled out his communicator. "HQ? This is Eldritch. One to pick up."

---

Ranger set down the incident report and looked Eldritch in the eye. That lasted about half a second, before Eldritch's eyes went to the desk.

"Well done, Eldritch. Though it's a shame we won't be able to send him to jail. Unlawful discharge of a firearm, owning an unregistered firearm, attacking an agent of the BOS, and he's probably going to live in a rubber room in a psychiatric institute painting landscapes."

"I know. No jury would ever think this guy was sane. To be honest, I don't think he is, either. Still, police are searching his house. BOS Paranormal division will handle anything nasty he's left behind, and they've told me they're going to keep an agent at the asylum. He tries summoning anything, they'll have the know-how to make it blow up in his face."

Ranger grinned broadly. Eldritch, on the other hand, didn't look quite so pleased.

"Something wrong, Al?"

"Ranger...I could be just as crazy as that old goat some day. And when that happens...are you going to be able to stop me?"

Ranger clapped Eldritch on his shoulder. Her smile seemed like one that a mother would give her bullied child, or a wife would give a husband after a bad day at work.

"Don't worry, Eldritch. We'll be looking out for you."