On the Other Side

Dennis Quinn, known formally as Golden Eagle, walked into the south wing meeting room of the Guardians of Interdimensional Invasion and Protection, or GIIP for short. Inside were the remaining members of the first wave of heroes.

Lauren Mason stood in the corner, a woman who by saying the words Yankee Doodle Dandy could transform into Yankee Girl, giving her the ability to fly, a toughened skin that could shrug bullets off like they were spitballs, and super strength allowing her to lift twelve tons with ease. Now she was an elderly woman who had been cursed by the malicious Dr. Ziarro preventing her from powering up without it killing her original form.

Next was the crippled Grim Reaper. A man that was once the finest hand-to-hand fighter the world had known was now paralyzed from the waist down when his spine was snapped when he was thrown into a wall and it came tumbling down onto his back, causing his spine to break in sixteen different spots. Modern medicine had not been able to make him walk again despite all he had done for the world.

In the corner was Tommy the Amazing Kid, a former sidekick to Amazing Man who perished in the first wave of monsters and horrors, inheriting the powers of super strength, super speed, and minor teleportation when his mentor was killed. However the stress of living up to his predecessor in a brand new world that had long forgotten his idol had taken its toll. Now he was released from Bakers Mental Hospital for Superpowered Folks only to talk about battle plans when the Rip was imminent.

The only semi fully functioning hero present was Zardi the Eternal Man, a distinguished Indian gentleman over twelve thousand years of age. He was equipped with a sharp wit, embellishing his skills with a magic cane that transformed into any weapon he desired, and his cape of magical mysterium that allowed him to grow older or younger in age or turn invisible. His desire to fight evil had been diminished with the death of his loyal servant, Nogi.

Golden Eagle looked down and sighed as a small tear sprung up in the corner of his eye. He remembered all of the fallen heroes that he had fought side by side with as they punched, zapped, and whooped their way through mad scientists, vampires, terrorists, and other monsters that now plagued him in his dreams. Two came to the forefront of his mind.

The first was the Fox, a quick minded detective and a martial artist, who whilst bouncing from foe to foe with super jumps would document fights and monsters with the camera located in his fox logo on his chest to better prepare for every eight-year mega battle. He had had been ripped to pieces along with Raven, another hero that Golden Eagle never did find out much about, by a pack of starving werewolves in their last battle.

Sarge Steel, Golden Eagle’s second-in-command, had been the team’s morale, picking them up and dusting them off whenever the opposition tore their spirits down to shreds, and knitting them back together newer and better than before. He had died in a hospital in Rome, a place he had told everyone he wanted to live, but succumbed from cancer this past winter with death coming painfully for him in his final moments.

Golden Eagle shook his head and stood tall; he was their leader, and he could not show weakness at this hour. He looked clock as the minute hand moved over the twelve and the hour hand took its place over the five. Three hours, they had three hours for their plan to work. Golden Eagle cleared his throat and looked at the remaining heroes.

“In three hours the Rip will open again and all hell will break loose. It has been made abundantly clear none of us are in any shape to fight the oncoming horde that will appear from the Rip, we barely made it through the last time to destroy the anti-matter cannon Professor Nautical and Madam Vicarious built.” Golden Eagle stopped for a moment; the next few parts of this conversation were going to be difficult to say. “The boys down in the lab have a way to open a minor tear in the Rip long enough for us to grab eight new heroes and seal it shut, permanently, behind them.”

“So let’s get to it," Grim Reaper said as he began to wheel himself towards the door.

Golden Eagle held out a hand and stopped him from going any further. “Bill, it’s not that simple. In order to open the Rip prematurely one of us has to give our essence to power the machine. The process is fatal.”

The room fell silent. Golden Eagle knew that this was too much to ask of any of them; he had asked so much of them already and now he was asking for more. Giving a small sigh he looked up at the team.

“That’s why I’ll…” he began before Grim Reaper clutched his arm in a vise grip.

“No, I’ll do it,” he told them.

“Bill, you already lost your legs. I can’t ask you to give up more of yourself.”

“Dennis, look at the other people in this room. Everyone else here has some sort of function to this group and can still help the new breed out. Then you have me, a broken old man. I want to do this; I need to be useful one last time before I go out like Steel.”

Golden Eagle was shaking. Gulping, he fought the shakes back and stood up tall.

“I’ve never been able to stop you before, so I doubt I’ll be able to stop you now. If this is what you want, I’ll give it to you. But if you change your mind I will offer myself to the machine.” he told him as he opened the door and led the rest of the group to the east wing where the lab was located.

In the middle of the lab was a chair that resembled an electric chair in design. Golden Eagle was never good with physics, so he had no idea how an execution device could tear a hole(s) in reality. Next to the electric chair were eight pods, four to the left and four to the right of the chair. He turned Grim Reaper around so he could give the final goodbyes to the rest of the group. Tommy and Zardi shook his hand while Yankee Girl gave him a small kiss on his forehead.

“See you folks on the other side.” he told them with a smile as the scientists wheeled him away towards the electric chair.

The scientists picked Grim Reaper up and strapped his arms and chest down before putting a bowl onto his head. After this they left him there as they went to various computers with random numbers, formulas, and blinking lights. After a minute or two of preparation the show began.

The scientists yelled out random words and numbers as electricity began to flow towards the electric chair. Golden Eagle held a hand out and stopped a young intern.

“Why do they have him hooked up to an electric chair?” he asked the young man.

The intern, not used to answering questions, looked up with wide eyes as he stammered out, “basically it, uh, shoot sorry one second. Your, uh sorry, your brain is a bunch of electric charges and signals. Which is how we exact, I mean extract, the energy needed to open a riff, I mean Rip. Or else we could pull something bad out like a person who carries our world’s most contagious and deadliest diseases. Basically your friend helps channel us.”

There was a scream coming from Grim Reaper. Tommy and Zardi had to hold Golden Eagle down so he wouldn’t run up and unhook his friend. The pods began to fill with a dark crimson and black substance, crackling with hope, malice, insanity, kindness, wickedness, and medley of so many other things that shouldn’t mix but were mashing and molding in front of his eyes.

Grim Reaper screamed as his body bucked and spasmed, holding on long enough to get the new heroes in before joining his namesake in the afterlife. The pod farthest from the chair on the left turned from crimson to pale blue as it went from a cloud with no visible shape to the beginnings of an outline of a person.

Slowly details began to be added, like a sculptor chiseling out a statue part by part. A bright yellow bodysuit that was covered armor appeared. Next were black gloves, boots, and a hood covering the person’s face from view. The final item to come into view was a black belt with red accents and lines running along the top and bottom of the belt.

The second pod began to change to the pale blue, similar to the first pod. Red boots, yellow gloves, and a red cape became solid. His torso and legs came into view as the pale blue began to dissipate, revealing the two to be of similar coloring. The final part to come into reality was a blue cap with a lightning bolt running across the top.

The third pod began to show the third person. While the previous two had been men, this one was a boy of what appeared to be sixteen. He wore a green leotard type suit with a red cape and glove. His bottom was covered in a speedo, leaving his legs open and vulnerable until they reached his red boots that came up to the middle of his leg. DB was imprinted in the middle of his costume in big, black letters.

The fourth pod started to reveal something garish, monstrous, and terrifying. Yellowing skin of varying shades came into view, stretched and sewn over a body that was monstrously tall and strong. His skin was pulled so taut and tight that muscles and veins were bulging in places that should not have had muscle growth even for the most ambitious body builder. Then appeared pearly white teeth, shown through decayed black lips, and following was the face which was full of sewing thread from being stitched together by whatever had been laying about. Golden Eagle nearly pulled the revolver that hung from his hip out and shot the creature.

The pod to the right of the screaming Grim Reaper, whose skin started to smell like it was on fire as it browned, started to show. One of the first apparent things to show was green, so much green. Once facial features became evident it was shown that it was a woman, her hairstyle and makeup suggested that she was from the fifties. If she were, however, then surely she wouldn't be in a military uniform; she would be in a dress and an apron.

The sixth pod began to show the makings of a dark brown suit, semi covered with a trench coat of similar coloring. His face started to show a black domino mask. On top of his head a fedora matching his attire hid a large portion of his salt and pepper hair. There was a gun in his hand that still smoked; it appears he had been dishing out justice before he arrived.

In the next pod a more exotic mix began to appear. Orange fur with black stripes, like a tiger, was draped over the woman’s petite frame like a coat. Tiger-like claws extended from the tips of her fingers and fangs from her mouth. Despite her feline appearance her face was normal, covered up with an orange and black striped domino mask. Her body screamed of elegance and power, and suggested that she would be a helpful fighter.

The final pod started to reveal black, so much black. Black shoes, a black suit with a black shirt, black gloves, a black fedora, gun holsters and a domino mask of similar color. The only thing not in black was a silver tie that looked like it had been hastily tied just moments before.

When the transference was complete, Grim Reaper slumped forward dead. Golden Eagle let out a small tear and wiped it away. He looked up at the clock. They had two and a half hours to debrief these heroes, council them on the fact they would never go home, and then convince them to work together as a team. They had a long way to go and a short time to get there.