You Never Expect the...

Frank Cordoza liked comics. He always had and, as far as he was concerned, he always would. Frank Cordoza, in fact, was so enamored of the whole concept of writing, of creating worlds from out of one's own mind, and of making money from it, that he had set up his own comics book store. He breathed, drank, and ate comics. He could tell you what issue of the Incredible Hulk saw the grey monster turn green; he could name the family tree of Kal L (aka Superman); he knew what spawned Spawn. What he didn't know was that over the course of a lifetime his own desire to delve into fictional realities had created and developed within him a hypersensitivity for the ultra-real, the neo-fictional. He had -in other words- his own spidersense; the only problem was that he wasn't aware he had it! He happened to live in Socorro. He also happened to have been experiencing an ache in his head the likes of which he had never experienced in his whole life, an ache which corresponded with the coming of Fred and Astra (although he didn't know it).

Then he heard a *pop* in his head. It wasn't physical, but he heard it just the same. And then, as if a movie stuck in slow motion was caught within a reel of film this side of his left eye, he saw a vision. He saw a horde of small eyes with weird tendrils trailing from them. He saw them swarm over everything they saw and destroy everything within their reach. He saw them appear above the park that was only three and one-quarter blocks away from his very comic shop. He saw them swivel, this way and that, and then change course, heading directly for his shop, directly for him, as if they sensed that he was watching them... and they were not pleased. And then Frank Cordoza fainted. It was the last thing he would ever do.

"Ah! There it is! Excuse me, gentlemen." The woman shouldered her way between a couple of burly men in kilts and up to the front of the room, next to the man in armor. She began sprinkling water and chanting, and that's when -from beyond the open door- screams were heard, running feet were heard, shoving arms were heard. And then -through the open door- something was seen: a horde of sickly evil eyes, small, glistening, with greenish nerve endings dangling from their backs but not connected to anything. The weekend feudalists stood in abject horror, stunned by the incredulity of it all, awed by the floating, seething balls of visionary acuity, and wondering why one of them had a half eaten "I love Supergirl" t-shirt attached to it.

Betty didn't know what she was looking at. But something within her sensed these vicious-looking eyes, sensed that they knew her perhaps more than she knew them, sensed that they were the result of her initial cry only moments ago. Then she sensed the evil emanating from them and Betty began to scream again: "No! Stop them! Stop them! Nooooo! Somebody, you gotta stop them! There has to be someone who can hear me! Help!" Of course, no one could hear her at all.

Fred didn't know what he was looking at either. But something within him sensed that the ghoulish gang of over-active ganglia were... something from home. Images hit Fred suddenly, caves and corridors, dragons and little dogs. He didn't understand what the images all meant once put together, but he did sense that, like dragons, these eyes were up to no good.

Madam Zelberta didn't know what she was looking at, and she didn't sense anything either. She knew enough, though, to know that floating eyeballs in New Mexico could not be a good thing.

And so this was the way they entered into our reality... what with Fred and Astra and God knows what else crossing over into the land of enchantment, into a land of military bases and Indian reservations, a land of hot-air balloons and hotter chiles. This was the grand entrance of... the Velus.

And then they attacked!!!

1. This is a job for...

Add New Option

Go Back

View Forward Story Tree
View Back Story Tree