Justice League of Mississauga - Count Klymlove - "Dying Breed" Part 2 of 3
I stood in a desert. Everything was gone. Nothing but jagged, orange rocks around me; the sky, a deep blue, being a thin atmosphere. I was completely alone. The place was calming, and I was free to turn into a bird at any time. I knew this, but this was all I knew. In this dream, my reality was skewed, and I did not know anything else.
I turned around, and Corn Mouth was behind me. I remember his face vividly. He was a tall, bulky man, about seven feet tall, and about six feet wide. One of his fingers was the size of my fist. He wore a brown suit, nicely tailored, with a white shirt and dark brown tie. He had no neck, and his head was shaped like a thick bullet. His pink skin was perpetually oily and covered in dripping sweat. He was bald, and thin strands of hair stuck to his massive skull. He wore thick glasses, covering his swollen, squinting eyes. He had a small, pointy nose and a thin mustache above his lip. His mouth was huge, open wide enough to fit my head in, and was propped open by a large cob of corn. At least it looked like it, although I was to find out later that it was not any type of produce. The corn protruded through the bottom of his face, and caked blood covered his face. The sides of his mouth were crusted with white and dark red, and framed with the veins underneath his fat skin. His breath smelled like old blood, mixed with rotting flesh.
He stared at me. I looked at his massive figure. Quite a strange being in a nice suit, I thought. But the mouth scared me. The bloody corn. I couldn’t look into his squinty eyes, completely black and lustrous. I turned away, and saw that three others had surrounded me on each side. The wizards. All in formal business suits. Two of them looked relatively normal: a man and a woman, both with grey hair and blue suits. They were both in their early sixties, having the exact same haircuts, cropped, thick and a mix of grey. They were both on either side of me, as I had my back turned to Corn Mouth. These were the twins. And in front of me, the leader. His body was the shape of an infant’s, but about twice the size. His head was the size of the average man, accept for the upper portion of his skull, which was twice as big. His face was that of a thin old man, yet his features were not sharp, but instead plump. His nose was fleshy, and his lips protruding in between is sparse grey and brown beard. His hair was also thinning, and the frizzy strands floated in the air softly.
The four of them surrounded me. Stared at me. I stood in my own costume, my trusted cloak, looking back at them. When I review these memories, they seem more like a corporate nightmare then something threatening, but you must understand the intense emotions these wizards had struck within me.
I was in shock. The most intense fears that only a dream could produce.
So I turned into a bird, because I knew I could. A little blue bird. I flew out of my cloak, towards the thin sky. I had to escape their circle. Especially Corn Mouth. I turned around, and saw that they had turned into birds too. But they were much larger birds, much faster and more experienced. They caught up to me, surrounded me, and made me fall. I hit a rock, and fell down to the orange dirt. I was human again, and naked. I looked up, and saw them all staring at me. I knew what they wanted me to do.
Corn Mouth was behind me again. He was always behind me, watching what I did. I knew I could not escape.
The leader spoke to me. His little, plump mouth moved incredibly fast, producing his infant-like mumbling, although it was coherent. I couldn’t tell you what he said, it was too fast and impossible to understand in real life, but I understood what he wanted. They needed newborn children from parallel universes. Quite a demand from me.
I don’t know anything about parallel universes in real life, but in my dream, it was quite simple. There were four universes, all of them endless landscapes. The first was the desert, second was the forest, third was water, and the fourth was ice and fire. All of these plains were easily accessible from any of the universes.
I remember these orders being ingrained into my being, for I truly knew and followed them with my life. It was as if the leader’s words had become the complete and only truth, and nothing else mattered.
I knew where the first baby was instinctively. I flew behind a small cliff, and it was there. Its skin was pink and full of veins, and the desert had dried its skin, making it leathery and wrinkled. It was lying alone, in the middle of nowhere. I took the grotesque creature, and brought it back to the wizards. Corn Mouth immediately took it from me. His suit opened, revealing a large, almost vaginal hole in his torso. He put the baby’s legs in, and the little being began to convulse. The infant’s face became contorted, and it began flailing around at extreme speeds as it slowly became enveloped. Skin between its limbs was being torn, and it began to bleed, right before it was completely immersed within Corn Mouth.
This event horrified me, as I stood vulnerably on a rock. With lightning speed, Corn Mouth grabbed me. His clothes were still open, and he held me right in front of the oozing hole in front of him. But he did not put me in. Instead, he carried me to the wooden stand that had materialized.
It was dark brown, and ancient, judging by the condition of the wood. It almost looked like a contraption for hanging, except at each corner there was a wooden beam with a crank. Corn Mouth slammed me against the wood. I struggled under his massive hands, completely helpless.
The leader stood beside my head. He stared at me, but I looked away. I struggled and struggled. I tried to break from Corn Mouth’s grip.
That’s when I woke up, in the middle of the night, trying to push away the massive hands that weren’t there. I opened my eyes, and immediately felt the mattress under me. It wasn’t wood, but thankfully old springs and worn out padding. I slowly got up, and sat on the side of my bed. Images were still going though my mind, and I looked around frantically in my tired state. The room was dark, but the moon filled through the window, making everything blue. The time was 5:47 AM. I didn’t want to sleep again. Luckily my room was right across the hall from the cafeteria. Slowly, I got up, put on my robe, and entered the cafe.
I spent the morning eating some of the frozen microwavable hamburgers that had been left over. Those would last for years, and were disgustingly comforting. Eventually, Cerilli Man walked in the kitchen behind the counter. He was in full uniform, ready for action. There really wasn’t much to enforce in those days, and being a superhero had turned into something much more mature and boring. Instead of fighting villains and bank-robbers, it was more of a peacekeeping duty; roaming the city and making sure people were not tearing each other apart for food. I threw Cerilli a burger.
He caught it in his hands, “Are you coming?”
“I had a rough night, I’m staying in today.”
“Taking a ‘Mental Health Day’?” He said.
I was silent. Mental Health Days were a creation of Callahan back in the old days, before anything began to happen. The wasteful and happy years. I think back on the progressions of time and events, and how the world had changed. When you are young, you always think about the future being exactly the same as the present. You think of future goals, assuming that things will not change, that the country you live in will always be steadfast, and that nothing could penetrate the safety and peace. But the world changes, not gradually, but all at one time, leaving people the option of changing or dying.
I missed my friend Callahan. I missed Ian. The Sons of Liberty is what we were. Things were simple then too, contrary to how I felt at the time. I guess the past always seems simple, because of its linear nature.
Or do things really get more complicated with age? Maybe you are less ignorant, and see all the different paths you can take, ones you didn’t see when you were young. Or perhaps you weigh all the options more evenly. I know I didn’t. Eventually, revenge took precedence over all other options.
That was after Corn Mouth, when I met my greatest foe, Joseph Cawthra. Revenge was all that mattered, for my mentor had, in his delusions of superiority, killed the Queen, the successor to Hazel herself. That was before I could make amends for the actions that had taken place before Corn Mouth. It all was not supposed to end like that.
My goodness, this life story is quite convoluted! And I’m not making it any easier by telling it in a jumble!
I spent the rest of the day nervously moping; never dressing myself, sauntering around, but with a constant dread at every corner, remembering my dream.
I had wasted the whole day.
And eventually, I went back to sleep. And I had another dream.
To be continued...
I turned around, and Corn Mouth was behind me. I remember his face vividly. He was a tall, bulky man, about seven feet tall, and about six feet wide. One of his fingers was the size of my fist. He wore a brown suit, nicely tailored, with a white shirt and dark brown tie. He had no neck, and his head was shaped like a thick bullet. His pink skin was perpetually oily and covered in dripping sweat. He was bald, and thin strands of hair stuck to his massive skull. He wore thick glasses, covering his swollen, squinting eyes. He had a small, pointy nose and a thin mustache above his lip. His mouth was huge, open wide enough to fit my head in, and was propped open by a large cob of corn. At least it looked like it, although I was to find out later that it was not any type of produce. The corn protruded through the bottom of his face, and caked blood covered his face. The sides of his mouth were crusted with white and dark red, and framed with the veins underneath his fat skin. His breath smelled like old blood, mixed with rotting flesh.
He stared at me. I looked at his massive figure. Quite a strange being in a nice suit, I thought. But the mouth scared me. The bloody corn. I couldn’t look into his squinty eyes, completely black and lustrous. I turned away, and saw that three others had surrounded me on each side. The wizards. All in formal business suits. Two of them looked relatively normal: a man and a woman, both with grey hair and blue suits. They were both in their early sixties, having the exact same haircuts, cropped, thick and a mix of grey. They were both on either side of me, as I had my back turned to Corn Mouth. These were the twins. And in front of me, the leader. His body was the shape of an infant’s, but about twice the size. His head was the size of the average man, accept for the upper portion of his skull, which was twice as big. His face was that of a thin old man, yet his features were not sharp, but instead plump. His nose was fleshy, and his lips protruding in between is sparse grey and brown beard. His hair was also thinning, and the frizzy strands floated in the air softly.
The four of them surrounded me. Stared at me. I stood in my own costume, my trusted cloak, looking back at them. When I review these memories, they seem more like a corporate nightmare then something threatening, but you must understand the intense emotions these wizards had struck within me.
I was in shock. The most intense fears that only a dream could produce.
So I turned into a bird, because I knew I could. A little blue bird. I flew out of my cloak, towards the thin sky. I had to escape their circle. Especially Corn Mouth. I turned around, and saw that they had turned into birds too. But they were much larger birds, much faster and more experienced. They caught up to me, surrounded me, and made me fall. I hit a rock, and fell down to the orange dirt. I was human again, and naked. I looked up, and saw them all staring at me. I knew what they wanted me to do.
Corn Mouth was behind me again. He was always behind me, watching what I did. I knew I could not escape.
The leader spoke to me. His little, plump mouth moved incredibly fast, producing his infant-like mumbling, although it was coherent. I couldn’t tell you what he said, it was too fast and impossible to understand in real life, but I understood what he wanted. They needed newborn children from parallel universes. Quite a demand from me.
I don’t know anything about parallel universes in real life, but in my dream, it was quite simple. There were four universes, all of them endless landscapes. The first was the desert, second was the forest, third was water, and the fourth was ice and fire. All of these plains were easily accessible from any of the universes.
I remember these orders being ingrained into my being, for I truly knew and followed them with my life. It was as if the leader’s words had become the complete and only truth, and nothing else mattered.
I knew where the first baby was instinctively. I flew behind a small cliff, and it was there. Its skin was pink and full of veins, and the desert had dried its skin, making it leathery and wrinkled. It was lying alone, in the middle of nowhere. I took the grotesque creature, and brought it back to the wizards. Corn Mouth immediately took it from me. His suit opened, revealing a large, almost vaginal hole in his torso. He put the baby’s legs in, and the little being began to convulse. The infant’s face became contorted, and it began flailing around at extreme speeds as it slowly became enveloped. Skin between its limbs was being torn, and it began to bleed, right before it was completely immersed within Corn Mouth.
This event horrified me, as I stood vulnerably on a rock. With lightning speed, Corn Mouth grabbed me. His clothes were still open, and he held me right in front of the oozing hole in front of him. But he did not put me in. Instead, he carried me to the wooden stand that had materialized.
It was dark brown, and ancient, judging by the condition of the wood. It almost looked like a contraption for hanging, except at each corner there was a wooden beam with a crank. Corn Mouth slammed me against the wood. I struggled under his massive hands, completely helpless.
The leader stood beside my head. He stared at me, but I looked away. I struggled and struggled. I tried to break from Corn Mouth’s grip.
That’s when I woke up, in the middle of the night, trying to push away the massive hands that weren’t there. I opened my eyes, and immediately felt the mattress under me. It wasn’t wood, but thankfully old springs and worn out padding. I slowly got up, and sat on the side of my bed. Images were still going though my mind, and I looked around frantically in my tired state. The room was dark, but the moon filled through the window, making everything blue. The time was 5:47 AM. I didn’t want to sleep again. Luckily my room was right across the hall from the cafeteria. Slowly, I got up, put on my robe, and entered the cafe.
I spent the morning eating some of the frozen microwavable hamburgers that had been left over. Those would last for years, and were disgustingly comforting. Eventually, Cerilli Man walked in the kitchen behind the counter. He was in full uniform, ready for action. There really wasn’t much to enforce in those days, and being a superhero had turned into something much more mature and boring. Instead of fighting villains and bank-robbers, it was more of a peacekeeping duty; roaming the city and making sure people were not tearing each other apart for food. I threw Cerilli a burger.
He caught it in his hands, “Are you coming?”
“I had a rough night, I’m staying in today.”
“Taking a ‘Mental Health Day’?” He said.
I was silent. Mental Health Days were a creation of Callahan back in the old days, before anything began to happen. The wasteful and happy years. I think back on the progressions of time and events, and how the world had changed. When you are young, you always think about the future being exactly the same as the present. You think of future goals, assuming that things will not change, that the country you live in will always be steadfast, and that nothing could penetrate the safety and peace. But the world changes, not gradually, but all at one time, leaving people the option of changing or dying.
I missed my friend Callahan. I missed Ian. The Sons of Liberty is what we were. Things were simple then too, contrary to how I felt at the time. I guess the past always seems simple, because of its linear nature.
Or do things really get more complicated with age? Maybe you are less ignorant, and see all the different paths you can take, ones you didn’t see when you were young. Or perhaps you weigh all the options more evenly. I know I didn’t. Eventually, revenge took precedence over all other options.
That was after Corn Mouth, when I met my greatest foe, Joseph Cawthra. Revenge was all that mattered, for my mentor had, in his delusions of superiority, killed the Queen, the successor to Hazel herself. That was before I could make amends for the actions that had taken place before Corn Mouth. It all was not supposed to end like that.
My goodness, this life story is quite convoluted! And I’m not making it any easier by telling it in a jumble!
I spent the rest of the day nervously moping; never dressing myself, sauntering around, but with a constant dread at every corner, remembering my dream.
I had wasted the whole day.
And eventually, I went back to sleep. And I had another dream.
To be continued...