Note: This all takes place before the recent BHC position changes...
The three figures of King Silver, Queen Nemesis and Gomurr the Ancient stood in the burnt remains of Avalon's room, as on-lookers peeped in through the massive hole in the wall. "Could he have been burnt to nothing?" asked Nemesis emotionlessly.
"It appears that way, Nem. If only we had better security on these grounds. I told you that, but you wanted to spend the money on a new fleet of cars..."
"Well we need to travel, don't we? But, I see your point now. I could only imagine if this had happened to one of us..."
"That's all your concerned about? Nemesis, we've lost Avalon, for God's sake! He's probably dead! Don't you feel a scrap of remorse?!?" roared Silver, his guilt getting to him. He didn't know, however, that with the apparent death of Avalon, Nemesis felt secure that one of her many secrets died with him. It was at this point that Gomurr, who'd been studying the room, spoke up... "Excuse me, sires, but I have reason to believe that Avalon is still alive. In terrible danger, but still alive..."
"What?!?" blurted Nemesis, corrupting her otherwise cool facade.
"I recognize these signs. The scorch marks, the colour of the ash, they're unique to a certain form of teleporting."
"Mystical based?" asked Silver.
"No. Technological. ItÕs called a Trans-Structure cannon. Basically, you fill in the co-ordinates of the destination you wish the target to go to, pull the trigger, and within ten minutes the target is at the place you set. It's simple molecular displacement. I've encountered it before."
"Is there anyway we can locate Avalon?" Silver asked, his anxiety over the loss of one his followers genuine.
"Yes, it is," replied Gomurr, now diverting his attention away from the remains to back to the king "All I need to do is measure the energy readings of the past twenty four hours."
"Of the entire earth?"
"Unfortunately yes, seeing as we have no idea where he may have been sent to. It may take some time..."
"Do you have a time frame?"
"Hmmmm...thatÕs tricky. Perhaps a day. Maybe less, maybe more. I am not sure..."
"Whatever you can do to help, Gomurr, is greatly appreciated."
"No appreciation need, Black King, IÕm as concerned of the safe return of my student as you are. I'll leave now and prepare what I will." With that, the Ancient one, turned and left the gutted room. Nemesis stood brooding. Silver stared at her.
"Why donÕt you care about this disappearance, Nem? It's almost as if...as if you're hiding something."
"Of course I'm hiding something, Silver," she spat "We all hide somethingÕs. But this...this doesnÕt matter. This is just a matter of face."
"Does Avalon know something about you?" the King questioned.
"Why Silver whatever do you mean?" she evaded, before she also turned and began walking out the room "I have urgent things to do. I suggest you get back to work while Gomurr goes about the locating of the young one." Silver was left standing alone, wondering if he had the correct attitude to be the king of this court. Outside, the other students of Gomurr all had their own opinions. None had ever truly known Avalon. He'd been around for awhile but not many had conversations with him. They had no idea of what was going on...
The sound of machines humming was what he awoke to. Sounds of electrical life thumping. His mind was glazed, and he had no recollection of anything. It was as if his memory were a vault. He looked down, to see his wrists and legs strapped in metal to the ceiling of this odd, computerized room. He was held in place on the roof, his clothing made of a strange lycra type material, the suit plain white, with a collar up to the back of his neck. These weren't his clothes. He knew that much. Someone had put them on him. "Are you resting comfortably?" a voice came. Avalon's mind slowly registered the presence, and he looked down on the disfigured little man staring up at him.
"I....know...you..." Avalon breathed.
"That's true. You knew me, years ago. We were friends. Then you had to leave." said the short man again. His clothing was much like Avalon's, only his body suit was black, with purple rectangles on the arms and legs. He wore a brown jacket which stretched to his ankles, the arms of the jacket torn off. Although he was short, his body was lanky, his jaw long and narrow, his lips barely defined, and his skin was a strange magenta pigment.
"Are you in any pain?" he asked "Do you need some more shots? I enjoy giving shots. Pleasure and pain all at once." this odd little man said. AvalonÕs mind was barely registering. He assumed through the fog that heÕd already been drugged up to the eyeballs. Or perhaps it was a result of the explosion. Yes, he remembered that now. Looking through the window, seeing this man before him, then a burst of bright light.
"It takes a while to get accustomed to being corporeal again after being fractured atomically. It's a rather...nineteen sixties type feel...he he he..." the little demon chuckled, as he hopped over to one of the many machines attached to the wall, removed a syringe, and injected it a pipe in the apparatus.
"There you go. My own personal batch. You should enjoy it. By the way, you probably wonÕt remember this when you wake up, but my name is Pug. We met years ago when.........*" Avalon could no longer hear. The drugs had reached his system and he was once again enveloped in the confusing darkness. What was going on here?
"We don't deserve this treatment," the big man had said. "I know you're used to it, boy, but I had a life before I was caught in here. A life away from the experiments, away from the injections and the disinfectant."
"You mean," the young boy Avalon had said "ThereÕs an outside world?"
"Of course there is," the big man had answered "I came from there. You came from there. To this damn hell hole. He's killing us, yÕknow? Twisting us, changing us, then heÕs going to get tired and throw us away. WeÕll be in the world again, but weÕll be dead in it."
"I always thought it was my imagination. I guess there...memories now," the little blonde boy paused "Gulliver, do you think we could some day go to the real world? Get out of here and leave? Would you take me with you?"
"Sure."
"And Pug? And De Locke? And Soma?"
"Settle down, child. WeÕre not escaping yet. But I promise you, when we do, weÕll take everyone with us."
"Including Pug?"
"Yes. Including Pug."
"Good. PugÕs funny. HeÕs my friend."
Once again he awoke to the sight of the steel floor below him. Was that a dream? No, he knew it wasn't. It had been a memory. One that had gone forgotten until now. Gulliver. It had been long since he'd thought of that name. Certainly, he had read it when he had proofed the BHC members files, but he had done so as if distanced from it. Now, with the name rolling through his mind, he couldn't help but feel guilt. He had left Gulliver and the others for his father. How could he ever forgive himself?
"Ahhh, dear Avalon." came the voice. It was the voice he had just heard in his dreams. Gulliver.
"Gulliver?" asked the boy from his dizzy state.
"Yes, dear boy. You wouldn't believe how hard it has been locating you. Bringing you back to me. It's been some time."
"...Four...years..." "Yes...four years, indeed. You have been busy in that time, havenÕt you?"
"...Wha....what do you mean?"
"What do you mean what do I mean? You know...forming a team, seeing your father, losing a team, joining a team. It's all been rather hectic, hasnÕt it?"
"How...do you know all that?" Avalon asked. Had Gulliver been following him? Spying on him?
"Through Pug. HeÕs kept a keen eye on you, my boy." Gulliver smiled. Avalon was surprised to see him again. He'd always felt this man was like a big brother to him. A big brother, of course, can be trusted at least most of the time.
"Pug"s been....watching me....following me?"
"Only through necessity, Avalon. Only through necessity..."
"Necessity? What necessity dictates my being chained to the.....goddamned ceiling...of all places...." mumbled the youth with aggression.
"The necessity of survival, IÕm afraid." stated Gulliver with a cheery smile.
"Survival? What are you talking about?"
"Avalon....we were all the....lab rats of Sinister. He twisted us and perverted us, bending our souls to help him in his personal quest. It just so happens that the good doctor wasn't perfect. In fact, he messed up on quite a number of occasions. Those occasions came with the injecting of the meta serum into each of us, to enhance our mutant and athletic abilities. You remember the serum?"
"Yes...I do..." Avalon shuddered as he recalled the thought. The endless hours of countless injections to re-structure his genetic codes.
"Well, it appears the serum had it's....errors. It created a virus within our bloodstreamÕs which I've called the 'degeneration virus', a virus which slowly rips apart the chromosomes in the body until death comes. It can take weeks, months, years, perhaps decades, but it does happen." Avalon was stunned. Did he have this virus? He asked "Do I...?"
"Have it? I'm not sure. I have it. Pug has it....and....there's some bad news, Avalon..."
"What?" he asked.
"Soma....died of it....last month...quite suddenly...." There was silence. Avalon's head spun, but it was not from the dizziness with in his head. Not Soma, he thought, not the most innocent of them all. She had been so full of life, despite the tragedy of hers.
"There's more. De Locke is dying of it, right now, at this very moment. I'm sorry to be piling everything on you, but we have little time. Acting quickly is a must. You see, each one of us was injected with a unique strand of serum, so thereÕs a possibility..."
"That I may not have it?" asked Avalon, jumping the gun.
"Yes, there is. If thatÕs so, then there's a possibility we can gain a cure from your blood. We may save ourselves yet..."
"So why the chaining to the ceiling?" asked the Scribe of the Black Court, biting back his remorse for Soma, his fear of what was happening.
"Well, at the moment, the machines you're "chained" to are analyzing your blood, checking your DNA strands. I'm sorry to put you straight into them before asking, but as I said, time is of the essence."
Avalon was now unsure of what to say. He now could feel the tiny needles sticking into him, one set draining blood from him, sending it through computers and machines, and another set of needles pouring it back into him.
"You should probably rest. I'll read the information gathered, and, everything bearing well, we will have a cure. Rest well, Avalon. You deserve it."
"But IÕm not sleepy..." the boy said, just before Gulliver punched a button beside him, which launched anesthetic into Avalon, sending him to sleep. Gulliver walked out, the doors sliding behind him as he went. The boy, as he had always been, was naive. Gulliver smiled to himself. Even if he couldn't siphon a cure from him, he would still strip the boys cells and keep his own life preserved that much longer. It was almost poetic. Avalon was going to die in the one place he wished he never would have to ever see again. Sinister's laboratories...
Well, that's chapter three. I thought it would take me longer to write, but when you've got the itch.... Hope you enjoyed, and keep reading...:) ~Av, the Fresh Prince of Hellfire