A Scripta

((Keen/Kain posted on the Futura Force boards something which I'll ask to post here for continuity purposes))

He called himself a Wombat, because he lived in the dark. The spirits he was cursed to listen to by his ex-girlfriend, a Cabal witch, constantly created a sheen of darkness that sometimes he had to peer to see through. He mostly heard their voices, different spirits rotating in and out, all with different life stories, one never hearing or understanding the other - all with wishes, demands, wants, unfinished business. He promised them all, and then used their essences, then moved on to the next spirit.

He knew he had grown cold, he assumed it was because of the reason he should have named himself Gelding. This summoning would be no different, calling forth a small troop of spirits, maybe all of them that surrounded him at the moment, calling them to search for the essence of a man.

Wombat, dressed in only his robes and carrying a photograph of a white-haired man, stepped into the circle in his workshop. The photograph was a perfect lodestone, because it was true that some of the soul was engrained upon an image. He set the photograph down, and began calling the quarters, which would protect the circle from outside influences. He ignored the two men standing at the opposite end of the room.

He waited, letting the shield settle, then let the spirits converge upon him. Five strong and distinct spirits came forth. He spoke to them, one by one, letting them touch at the photograph's essence, then sent them on their way to the Rogue Isles.

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Howard Dionisi had been a lower member of the Family, not even rising to Hitman before he was killed by an errant hero's arrow. He sped first through the ether to easily find the Rogue Isles, passing through Marconeville, stopping at the Arachnos building. The other spirits followed dutifully, and he could see other spirits gathering curiously. None of them could ever communicate with the other, so they kept on milling about, confused.

Dionisi felt the essence call to him and he headed right for it. The four spirits were right behind him, all he had to do was see this man was and then report back to his summoner, who would find the hero that killed him. It's what the summoner promised. Soon he'd see that bastard's shade among the rest--

The spirit hesitated a moment. It was the essence, but something wrong about it. Dionisi wasn't magical, had no idea what he had run into. He felt something curious around him, something slowly squeezing him, then yank hard...

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Womby sat quietly in the circle, as Frosty and Masonry watched him concernedly. His eyes moved behind his lids, so they knew he was alive even though he was barely breathing. Darkness flowed like tendrils around inside the circle, sometimes obscuring him. Masonry paced; Frosty stood absolutely still.

Then Womby's eyes flew open. His mouth opened, almost as if he was going to scream but couldn't find the breath. His hands reached for something, and the men watched the black tendrils start to spiral upward, as if it was an upside-down tornado. Frosty looked at Masonry, who took a few steps back and looked ready to barrel through the force field directly into the circle.

"Mase, no!"

Too late, as the juggernaut ran at the circle and burst through. Immediately, a roar filled the room, accompanying the vision of the upside-down tornado, and underneath it, Wombat screaming, reaching upward. Frosty felt something pulling at him, pulling at his very soul, heading right for the vortex. Masonry was shaking Wombat, even while Frosty kept backing away, finding it more difficult with every step.

Then the roar faded because soon enough they were surrounded by silence. Frosty fell backwards unceremoniously on his ass, the pulling sensasion gone like a snapped rubber band. The silence hurt. Mase's quiet voice came to him. "Womby?"

"Shhh!" he hissed.

Frosty watched Masonry get to his feet slowly. Womby looked confusedly around himself for a minute, then looked at his hands, then at Masonry, then the room. He stared at Masonry, his mouth moving without sound. Masonry tilted his head and waited.

"They're gone," Wombat whispered.