SPITFIRE
by
Kostmeyer
ISSUE 36
"London's Burning"
Cover art by Kostmeyer. Colours by Gene.
This story features SPITFIRE and related characters, which were created by
Kostmeyer 2005.
Also features characters and organizations which are trademarks and copyright
of MARVEL COMICS
a division of MARVEL ENTERTAINMENT GROUP, INC.
This is a work of fan-fiction and is being written for entertainment purposes
only; no profit is being made by this work.
Copyright © 2006 Kostmeyer. All rights reserved.
PREVIOUSLY IN HELL ON EARTH...
The mysterious beings called the Horde have attacked the Earth, imprisoning the world's most powerful psychics and magicians in a machine called the Chaos Engine. Their leader, Samhain, has killed the only two beings he considers powerful enough to stop his plans; The Shadow King and the X-Men's founder, Professor Charles Xavier. The ensuing psychic shockwave rips open the barriers between dimensions and the Horde's demon army invades. In London, the demon army is confronted by Carrie Conway, better known as Spitfire. But despite a heroic effort, she is overpowered and killed by the Horde's general Maaxa...
"Sh-she's dead!" Bobbi O'Neill murmured. "I can't believe it! Spitfire's dead!"
In the burned out wreckage of a police riot van, the reporter and her companion, the injured Police Detective Inspector Eric Haller, watched, horrified, as Spitfire's fight with the leader of the demon army reached its grisly conclusion. The axe Maaxa crackled and spat bolts of blue-white lightning as the demon woman who carried it roared in triumph. Her name - her personality - had been lost the moment she picked up the weapon. Once again she spoke and acted for Maaxa. They were one.
Almost without thinking, O'Neill activated the remote camera unit, which hovered obediently at her shoulder.
"Are you insane?" Haller whispered harshly, gritting his teeth against the pain from his dislocated arm as he dragged himself closer to her. "Get down! They'll see you!"
"Not if I'm careful!" O'Neill grinned, nervously. "If you think I'm going to get trapped in the middle of the biggest news story since the Phoenix Event and not film it, you got hit on the head harder than I thought."
"Bloody typical." Haller muttered.
"Besides," O'Neill continued, "The remote camera has a directional microphone. Maybe we can learn something that will help us to stop them."
Maaxa's demon entourage who had retreated to a safe distance when the battle began, now edged closer. Some began to gnaw at the corpse of the fallen hero.
"Wait!" Maaxa said, her voice stern. The demons flinched and looked up with anxious faces. "She fought well." She scowled. "Spitfire is not for you." She dropped to her knees beside the body, then bent and sank her teeth into Carrie's flesh.
"Having fun, Maaxa?"
A swirling, jet black disc had appeared in the air behind her, a dark portal to another place summoned by even darker magic. Barely visible in the shadows on the other side of the mystical gateway was a tall man, cloaked and armoured, a black crown on his skull and a scarlet gemstone set on his brow, watching them with glowing red eyes.
"Samhain." Maaxa said, bowing her head as she recognised the leader of the Horde. She stood and wiped the blood from her mouth. "I heard the scream - I take it your plan succeeded."
"Of course." Samhain smiled, baring his fangs. "The last beings on Earth with the power to oppose us have been eliminated. Xavier and the Shadow King are dead. But what of your armies? What do you have to report?"
"All goes as we expected." Maaxa said, a little annoyed at the implication that there could be any other outcome. "The humans fight but our numbers are too great. Every major city in the world has been overrun. All opposition..." she lifted the lifeless Spitfire into view, "... has been crushed. Do you want me to finish here, or..."
"No, my friend." Samhain interrupted. "Beltane, Herne, and Perdition returned with the host body moments ago. You must return to Wundagore now for the final ceremony." His long fingers flexed in anticipation. "Nothing can stop us now."
Laughing, Samhain vanished into the shadows. Maaxa began to follow, setting a booted foot on the edge of the portal, then halted, remembering that she was still carrying Spitfire's body. She turned, lifted the dead hero high above her head, and then savagely impaled her on the spear-point that surmounted her battle standard.
"She was their champion - their hope." Maaxa announced to her demon bodyguards. "Carry her before the army - let them see her and remember the fate of those who oppose the Horde!" Then she stepped through the dark portal which dissipated behind her. O'Neill switched the camera off and turned away.
"C-come on." She said to Haller. "We better get you to a hospital."
* * *
The demons broke through into the intensive care ward, screeching with anticipation. Loyal to Maaxa's doctrine that no-one was to be left alive, the creatures had stayed behind when the main Horde army advanced through the city, to finish off the patients who were too dangerously ill to be evacuated.
"Get down!" Elise Keele shouted. The amateur sorceress who had been attempting to use her magic to contact their comatose friend was now standing in the centre of the room, a large battered book in one hand, an expression of total concentration on her face. Just as the first three demons set foot in the room she raised her arm and a brilliant burst of white light exploded in their faces, dazzling them.
"She has the art!" one of the creatures hissed, arm raised to shield its eyes. "She dies first!"
"Crap!" Keele barely had time to react as the first demon, propelled forwards at incredible speed with a single stroke of its powerful wings, landed on her. The creature raked at her with its claws, but she managed to block it with the book as the demons weight crushed her to the floor.
Lunging forwards, Nick Smith brought his improvised club down hard against the monster's head. The demon's scaly hide was like a suit of armour and the weapon - a detachable metal side rail from one of the unoccupied beds - bent with the force of the blow and was jarred out of Nick's hands. In response the demon turned away from the girl and closed on him, saliva pouring from its jaws and pooling on the tiled floor at its feet.
The creature tensed to spring at him, but the attack never came. The following demons, bottled up in the corridor and eager for blood, scrambled over it, pushing it down and out of their way. For a few seconds the demons struggled to free themselves from a tangled mass of limbs and wings and Nick, taking advantage of this temporary reprieve, dragged Elise back into the ward.
Buckingham, standing behind an upturned bed that formed a makeshift barricade, emptied his revolver into the pursuing demons to cover their retreat, but except for a lucky shot that took one through the eye, the bullets did little real damage. One of the creatures landed on the bed, seized it with the talons on its feet and effortlessly threw the barrier aside. Buckingham hurled his empty gun at its face.
Suddenly a black shape lashed out, crashing into the demon's jaw which cracked audibly. The demon flew backwards amid a shower of black feathers.
"Bob?!" Kate said in amazement.
Bob Carpenter had once been a costumed criminal until repeated encounters with Spitfire had convinced' him to retire. Now once again wearing his Birdman suit, he ran straight into the column of demons, forcing them back along the ward with sheer brute force.
"So that's what was in your suitcase!" Kate realised. "Bob, you're a genius!"
"Big Bird just saved my life." Buckingham shook his head. "If I survive this the embarrassment will kill me."
Carpenter had managed to push the demons back to the door, a scratching, sprawling mass of tangled arms and legs and wings. The presence of a foe with the strength to match them had taken them by surprise, but now they fought back, ripping into the suit with teeth and claws.
"I don't think I can hold them!" Bob shouted "The suit... wasn't designed for this!"
Buckingham had retrieved his gun and was fishing around in his pockets for bullets, when he suddenly halted. A fine dust was falling into the room.
"Jesus - they're in the ceiling!" The detective murmured
"How many bullets left?" Kate whispered.
"One." Buckingham said. "Reckon we can get them all to stand in a line?"
The ceiling gave way, and a second group of demons dropped into the ward, screeching like vultures descending on a carcass.
* * *
Carrie Conway smiled. The student flat at Bourne Road was cramped and cluttered, but it was home - familiar and comforting. She was so glad to see the place that she ignored the nagging doubts - the suppressed feeling that something wasn't right here. Kate and Nick were sitting in front of the television, watching a news report in which a axe wielding woman was lifting a tattered black and red form above her head. Carrie hesitated for a moment to look, but then Gary was there, by the front door, tapping his watch and reminding her that they were late for a lecture. She checked her appearance in the mirror and pulled her jacket on over the suit of Adrastraean armour that she was wearing. Then she walked out of the door and into her sitting room in Dalby Tower.
Through the window, Stephen Chappel could be seen swimming laps in the rooftop pool. As she watched he noticed her, and treading water, motioned for her to join him. She took a step forwards, then stopped - this was wrong too - somehow - she turned back into Buckingham's office where her parents were sitting together on a battered sofa, sleeping beside an open newspaper. The headline of the article they had been reading - something about a fight between a super hero and a demon - attracted her attention, but as she moved closer she was painfully aware of the noise which the high heels of her Hellfire Club outfit made against the wooden floor, and unwilling to wake them she retreated to the door.
She tried the handle and stepped through into the Night Spot, with its familiar thumping bass and flashing lights. Kate and Nick were sitting in their usual booth on the far side of the dance floor and waved to her as Gary arrived, weaving his way through the crowd on his way back from the bar with their drinks. This was wrong too - and yet it seemed so perfect - the sort of night out the friends had had before she had become Spitfire - before her powers and fame drove a wedge between them. No-one even seemed to notice that she was wearing her Spitfire costume.
She moved towards the bar where Kate was working her shift. That... that seemed wrong too - she felt as if her thoughts were clouded - moving in slow motion. Kate was here at the bar laughing, pouring her a drink - but she was also at the table with the others... Carrie sat on a bar stool and cradled her head in her hands. The Bourne Road flat - Gary laughing and joking - it was as if all of her memories were playing out at the same time, familiar faces - places she felt safe and happy, but not real...
Then, as Kate moved along the bar to refill Buckingham's glass, she saw him. He was younger than her, she guessed - a boy in his late teens, with blonde hair and cold blue eyes. He was dressed in exactly the same manner as the others, but with one important difference - one thing that made him stand out. In a scene was constructed from her own memories, he was the only person she had never seen before.
"That's not true, actually." The young man said, smiling as he responded to her unspoken thought. "You saw me - briefly - today in your room in the Adrastraean City. But I'm real - at least I'm not a memory, like these others." He gestured vaguely about them.
"You - you're the voice, aren't you." Carrie said. "The voice in my head."
"Reese Kahn." He said, taking the stool beside her.
"What's happened to me?" Carrie asked. "This isn't real, I know - but I can't remember what's true and what isn't - I... I think I was fighting, and..."
Reese gestured towards a television set mounted on the wall behind the bar. The last few moments of Carrie's battle with Maaxa were being played out. "You died." He said quietly. "I'm sorry."
"I know that... now." Carrie answered, her voice faint. "It's coming back... So. I'm dead." Her new companion nodded. "Well, this isn't what I was expecting."
"You mean this place? My doing." Reese said, an element of pride creeping into his voice. "You see, you're a spirit. You have no body - your body is dead. So you have no senses - no eyes to see with, no ears to hear through... Even the most disciplined mystic adepts are disoriented by the experience and as you have no understanding of the art - I thought that creating this... uh... fabrication would make things easier for you."
"Well your choice of memories needs a bit of work." Carrie said. "No way I'd have chosen to wear this again." She said, jabbing her thumb at the black skinsuit with green sensor relays she was currently wearing.
"Yeah I know." The sorcerer smiled. "But it looks really good on you."
Carrie realised she was staring at him. He looked so ordinary - did he really have the power to do everything he claimed?
"Oh yes," Reese answered her thought nonchalantly. "Don't let my age fool you. I was the ruler of an entire realm of mystics when I..." his voice trailed off. "I mean, when I came here."
"So where are we?" Carrie said, adding: "Really, I mean."
"In between. Between the living world and... whatever happens next."
"You mean heaven?"
"That's the big mystery isn't it." The young man said with a smile. "Heaven, Hell, Valhalla... I couldn't tell you, I've never been. You see, sometimes when a person has a really strong attachment to a place or a person in the Living World, sometimes that attachment is too strong for their physical death to completely sever. This is where we end up - neither in one world or the next - a state of limbo." He hesitated, and it seemed to Carrie that he wasn't really talking to her at all, but giving voice to his own most private thoughts. "Most of the poor souls that find themselves here are traumatised by their physical death - lost and confused many don't realise their dead and try to go back. Sometimes the Living see them or feel them. They get called ghosts - poltergeists - but they're just sad confused echoes. Most of the lost souls just linger here until loss and madness consumes them utterly."
"And this is what happens to me?" Carrie whispered, the colour draining from her face.
"To you?" Reese smiled. "Oh, no - you were going on to your reward or punishment or wherever you were supposed to go. I prevented it, with my magic."
"You prevented it?" Carrie rounded on him, angered by the self-satisfied smile on his face. "What gave you the right?" she drove her fist down in frustration, smashing the bar in front of her. The shattered pieces hung in the air beside her, as if when he created the world she now occupied, the young sorcerer had forgotten to add gravity.
"How disappointing." Reese said, shaking his head. His clothes had been replaced now with a dark costume, and a billowing cape secured with a golden amulet. As Carrie watched the bar, the people, the lights, even the sounds around her were swept in to him, as if he were the focal point of an irresistible whirlpool, adding to his mass, increasing him to gigantic proportions. Carrie took to the air, flying straight for his face, arms outstretched in front of her - but she passed straight through his head. "Were you even listening to me?" the gigantic figure laughed. "You have no physical form Spitfire. Your childish tantrum is a waste of precious time and energy."
"Who are you?" Carrie said. "Why have you been watching me all these weeks?" The huge sorcerer loomed over her. "Answer me!" she screamed. "Answer me!"
* * *
Nick watched in horror as the demons descended on the intensive care ward. Behind him he heard Buckingham's final gunshot followed by an equally violent outburst of swearing. He saw Kate scramble past several of the creatures and throw herself in between the attacking creatures and Gary's bed, where their flatmate lay unconscious. Then two more demons dropped down on her from above and she vanished from sight. Nick managed two steps towards her before another of the monsters landed on him, knocking him forwards and off his feet. He managed a clumsy roll and landed on his back, looking up at the creature, which was grinning viciously in anticipation. Determined that, if he was to die, he'd at least wipe the smug look off of its face, he kicked upwards with both feet, one catching the creature on the side of the face, the other glancing against its mouth. The demon caught his foot between its jaws and bit down, through his boot. Blood spattered across his face and he lost consciousness.
* * *
"I told you my name before." The sorcerer said, suddenly shrinking back to his normal size and walking towards Spitfire. "I am Reese Kahn. But for a while I used the alias Conjur, when I was a member of the Hellions."
"The Hellions? They work for the Hellfire Club." Carrie said, scowling. "We've met."
"That was when you first came to my attention." Reese answered. "I've been watching them you see, ever since I... crossed over." He said, choosing the words carefully. "My precognitive abilities had already warned me about the Horde - and now they told me that you would fall in one of the first battles of the war." He smiled. "And I realised that this presented a new and intriguing opportunity."
"Opportunity?" Carrie repeated. Something about that smile made her uncomfortable.
Conjur continued: "It's within my power to send you back. With my help, and your own regenerative abilities, I can restore you."
"You mean bring me back to life? You can do that?"
"There is a price to pay." Conjur said. "If I do this for you, I want something in return - a favour."
"A favour?" Carrie was unable to keep the suspicion out of her voice. Reese didn't seem to notice - it was as if he were going through a long rehearsed speech.
"You see, I want to go back too." He said. "I have... unfinished business I need to take care of, but I can't return to my own body. It was too badly damaged when I..." he swallowed and this time managed to say the word: "...died. And besides, too much time has passed. There's so little left of... of what I was..."
"I don't understand - what are you saying?"
"Haven't you guessed? I brought you here for a reason, Carrie. I could project my mind into any recently deceased body on Earth - but your powers - particularly the enhanced healing - made you the best choice. I need your help. I need your body - for a while."
"You want my body?" Carrie interrupted, laughing at the absurdity of what he was saying. "Your chat up lines really suck Reesey boy - how long have you been dead?"
"No! I didn't mean..." Reese said, embarrassed. Carrie detected it and twisted the knife some more.
"No flowers, no chocolates..."
"Wait - it isn't like that!"
"I mean, is it necrophilia if we're both dead?"
"Will you just shut up!" Conjur shouted. "I need to possess your body - control it."
"Actually that's worse." Carrie said. "What happens to me?"
"When my task is complete my connection to the Earth-dimension will be severed. My spirit will depart, and you will once more take back your body. You'll have come back from the dead. Trust me Carrie - there is no other way."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I'll do it anyway." A tight-lipped smile spread slowly across Reese Kahn's face. "My asking your permission is really just a matter of courtesy."
* * *
Cautiously, Bobbi O'Neill made her way through the devastated streets, past the debris and the burning buildings, across the scattered remains of police barricades and the remnants of those who had defended them. She was half leading, half carrying the injured policeman. Haller was by this point barely conscious, and was walking as if he were on automatic pilot. O'Neill knew that walking through the streets in plain sight like this was risky, but she also knew that if she didn't get him some medical attention soon, he would never survive. She looked up to get her bearings. They were almost there - one last effort. The hospital was just around the next corner.
"Oh no."
"What?" Haller mumbled. "Wh-what is it?"
"It's no good." O'Neill said. "They got here first."
The hospital seemed to have been abandoned, but for a room on the second floor of the main building, the site now, she could tell, of a running battle. The animalistic screams of the demons could be heard even at this distance as they closed in on their prey. A single gun shot rang out over the general clamour of the battle, but no more followed. The defenders were being overwhelmed.
As they watched in mounting horror, they saw another troop of demons scaling the walls of the building, swarming up the brickwork like giant insects, to break in through the windows to join the slaughter. The people inside - whoever they were - had been completely surrounded. They had no chance.
"Come on Haller - we have to get out of here." O' Neill said. She turned, and the colour drained from her face.
Maaxa's bodyguard - the core of the Horde army in London, had returned. Bigger and more powerfully built than most of the demons, and eager to get back to the front ranks of the battle with the British army, they had followed O'Neill and Haller's route and now blocked the street behind them, a solid wall of teeth and claws, bat wings and scales like armour plate. Impaled at the top of their banner, a grotesque trophy of their earlier victory, Spitfire's corpse was hanging.
"Stupid humans!" the leading demon laughed as it saw them. "Haven't you seen enough? Haven't you learned what happens when you try to fight?" beating its wings, the demon rose into the air, hovering beside the hero's body. "You die." The creature said. "Just like little Spitfire here."
Suddenly Spitfire reached out with both hands and grabbed the demon's throat. The creature let out a garbled scream as her fingers tightened, shattering the bones in its neck. Spitfire's dead eyes turned to look at the struggling creature with an empty, dispassionate gaze. The demon clawed impotently at her face as she continued to exert more and more pressure. Finally, and with a sickening snap, the demon's head was twisted from its shoulders. Spitfire released her grip and the demon's corpse fell to the ground.
Bobbi O'Neill screamed. Spitfire was dead - her body smashed and shattered - hacked at by an axe, sliced by claws, held together by a few ragged scraps of her blood stained costume - and yet she was moving! As they watched she gripped the spear point that protruded from her chest, snapped the barbed blade off and pulled herself up the shaft, sliding her body free of the banner pole. The demons, almost as horrified by what they saw as the two humans, backed away, forming a wide circle as Spitfire's corpse dropped to the ground.
The corpse got to its feet slowly, clumsily. It ignored the demons completely - ignored Haller and O'Neill - and walked towards the row of shops on the opposite side of the street from the hospital gate. It walked awkwardly - as if it hadn't used her legs for a long time and was remembering how. As it moved, the shattered bones reformed, torn sinews intertwined, new skin grew back over closing wounds. Finally the tattered strands of its costume stitched themselves back together. Reflected in the shop window, Spitfire stood, alive, whole.
She waited, looking into the image for a while, as if fascinated by the person who stared back at her in the window. She stepped closer, until her breath fogged the glass. Smiling she reached up and wiped the condensation away - watched as her breath clouded the glass again.
"I'd forgotten..." Spitfire said, a tear sliding down her cheek. "I'd forgotten what it felt like... Has it really been so long?"
A snarl attracted her attention. The demons had overcome their initial fright and were closing in again.
"Demons." Spitfire said, with distaste. "Creatures of another plane. The Earth repels you. You do not belong."
Gesturing, she raised her arms and mouthed an incantation in a lost language. A green aura formed about her, a blinding light that made the demons gibber with fear. Finally she extended her arms and the aura expanded, in a wide circular arc, expanding from her as if she were the epicentre of an earthquake. The demons shrieked in agony as the light washed over them, blasting them to atoms and moving on - scouring the street and the nearby buildings clean. In the hospital, the creatures found their victory short lived, vaporised before they could finish their victims.
In the street, Spitfire lowered her head and folded her arms about her body, drawing the eldritch light back into her. Alone now in the empty street, Haller and O'Neill stared in amazement - open mouthed. Finally, Haller managed to speak.
"Carrie?" he said. "What happened? What's happened to you?"
Spitfire turned to face him and smiled.
"It's good to be alive." Reese Kahn said.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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