Ezekiel
Half Pint
Eviledd1984
Guardian Angel Haruki
Supermaxx
GreenGrenade
Simple Unicycle
Lexisheeps
LG
| L U N A
| Dark Side of the Moon
“Kill them.”
Billy just crossed his arms as the halbred-rifles were raised again. The assembled aliens started to take a step forward when Skratt called to them again.
“No, wait. Kill the human. I want to take my time with the Kymellian.”
Casually, the young Batson turned his head. Crocodiles to the left of him, reptiles to the right. As the pole-like weapons were extended out toward him, Billy knew that he was surrounded by the dinosaur-like aliens. Claws clicked against some kind of trigger mechanism.
A strange sound echoed through the chamber, as bolts of some kind sailed from all directions, slamming into the child-like body of the crimson clad hero.
Through it all, Billy simply stood there, as bolts collided about his head and shoulders. No worse for the wear, as the volley continued for nearly a minute.
When the Zn’rx had finally ceased firing, a rather bored looking Batson at last looked back over at the one who had introduced himself as Skratt. The two held one another’s gaze, even as Billy addressed Kofi. “You want this?” the boy asked flatly, before adding, “Or you want to check those life signs?”
“The Zn’rx and my people understand one another,” Kofi answered, speaking from behind him. After all, this wasn’t Freddy Freeman, but his true horse-like appearance. That was likely to be something of a shock to ordinary people. Particularly if they’d been unexpected guests of extraterrestrials of another sort. As if reading Billy’s mind, the young xenomorph added, “Humans, on the other hand...”
Skratt’s claws flashed in the harsh light of the starship’s interior. A low, gutteral growl snapping as the crocodile-like monster barked, “You think us a joke?”
Taking a step back, Billy pivoted to look back at Kofi. Then, inclining his head to indicate the angered Zn’rx, merely offered, “All yours.”
A mystical circle seemed to appear in the air before the horse-like youth. A three-fingered hand gestured in the air, alternating a pair of symbols within the circle. With the simple flick of his fingers, Billy Batson suddenly disappeared into a quickly fading column of light.
“A joke?” the Kymellian echoed, reading his head back as the circle faded and Kofi found himself now alone on a ship full of Zn’rx. Pondering how Billy might have addressed the crowd clamoring for his violent demise, the youth dryly stated, “I am not as well acquainted with, shall we say, witty repartee as Billy. But, I would note that a joke is a humorous anecdote. And I am not amused.”
The assembled soldiers moved toward the small, horse-like being.
“SHA--”
The second syllable of the spell was lost in the thunderous explosion. A collision of light and energy that arced in a spectacular display as the lightning ripped through the alien ship. The massive crocodile-like creatures were knocked off their feet, sailing backward from the small form.
When the smoke had cleared, the Kymellian youth stood attired in a costume that closely matched that of Billy Batson’s, save that it was colored blue rather than Billy’s distinctive red.
After all, Kofi was the champion of Kymellia, whereas Billy was the former champion of Earth. And now it’s Shazam.
Lightning rolled from off the blue-clad hero’s frame, as the horse-faced youth looked up at the disheveled Skratt. “You said that you wished to take your time with the Kymellian.”
Arms outstretched, Kofi glanced around the smoking wreckage of the Zn’rx ship as he noted simply:
“Here I am.”
Billy just crossed his arms as the halbred-rifles were raised again. The assembled aliens started to take a step forward when Skratt called to them again.
“No, wait. Kill the human. I want to take my time with the Kymellian.”
Casually, the young Batson turned his head. Crocodiles to the left of him, reptiles to the right. As the pole-like weapons were extended out toward him, Billy knew that he was surrounded by the dinosaur-like aliens. Claws clicked against some kind of trigger mechanism.
A strange sound echoed through the chamber, as bolts of some kind sailed from all directions, slamming into the child-like body of the crimson clad hero.
Through it all, Billy simply stood there, as bolts collided about his head and shoulders. No worse for the wear, as the volley continued for nearly a minute.
When the Zn’rx had finally ceased firing, a rather bored looking Batson at last looked back over at the one who had introduced himself as Skratt. The two held one another’s gaze, even as Billy addressed Kofi. “You want this?” the boy asked flatly, before adding, “Or you want to check those life signs?”
“The Zn’rx and my people understand one another,” Kofi answered, speaking from behind him. After all, this wasn’t Freddy Freeman, but his true horse-like appearance. That was likely to be something of a shock to ordinary people. Particularly if they’d been unexpected guests of extraterrestrials of another sort. As if reading Billy’s mind, the young xenomorph added, “Humans, on the other hand...”
Skratt’s claws flashed in the harsh light of the starship’s interior. A low, gutteral growl snapping as the crocodile-like monster barked, “You think us a joke?”
Taking a step back, Billy pivoted to look back at Kofi. Then, inclining his head to indicate the angered Zn’rx, merely offered, “All yours.”
A mystical circle seemed to appear in the air before the horse-like youth. A three-fingered hand gestured in the air, alternating a pair of symbols within the circle. With the simple flick of his fingers, Billy Batson suddenly disappeared into a quickly fading column of light.
“A joke?” the Kymellian echoed, reading his head back as the circle faded and Kofi found himself now alone on a ship full of Zn’rx. Pondering how Billy might have addressed the crowd clamoring for his violent demise, the youth dryly stated, “I am not as well acquainted with, shall we say, witty repartee as Billy. But, I would note that a joke is a humorous anecdote. And I am not amused.”
The assembled soldiers moved toward the small, horse-like being.
“SHA--”
The second syllable of the spell was lost in the thunderous explosion. A collision of light and energy that arced in a spectacular display as the lightning ripped through the alien ship. The massive crocodile-like creatures were knocked off their feet, sailing backward from the small form.
When the smoke had cleared, the Kymellian youth stood attired in a costume that closely matched that of Billy Batson’s, save that it was colored blue rather than Billy’s distinctive red.
After all, Kofi was the champion of Kymellia, whereas Billy was the former champion of Earth. And now it’s Shazam.
Lightning rolled from off the blue-clad hero’s frame, as the horse-faced youth looked up at the disheveled Skratt. “You said that you wished to take your time with the Kymellian.”
Arms outstretched, Kofi glanced around the smoking wreckage of the Zn’rx ship as he noted simply:
“Here I am.”
| M E A N W H I L E
| Deep Inside The Alien Spaceship
There was a momentary sensation of vertigo.
It had been so long since Billy had been teleported by another person, that he’d almost forgotten the feeling. Familiar, like putting your feet into a pair of old slippers.
...and feeling the worm larva between your toes.
It subsided as the room resolved itself in his vision. The same interior. The same ship, just a different part of it.
The smell was the first thing to hit him.
Blood. It was the smell of blood. It was as distinctive an odor as any that Billy had known, harkening him back to the woods of Europe in the bygone decades of the distant past.
It was a smell he associated with corpses.
A large shadow moved in the peripheral of his vision. The light briefly glinted off the claws, as they came at the boy.
A moment later, the massive frame of a crocodile-like alien was sailing through the air.
Taking a step into a vaulted chamber, Billy steeled himself as he traced the scent of death toward the source.
It had been so long since Billy had been teleported by another person, that he’d almost forgotten the feeling. Familiar, like putting your feet into a pair of old slippers.
...and feeling the worm larva between your toes.
It subsided as the room resolved itself in his vision. The same interior. The same ship, just a different part of it.
The smell was the first thing to hit him.
Blood. It was the smell of blood. It was as distinctive an odor as any that Billy had known, harkening him back to the woods of Europe in the bygone decades of the distant past.
It was a smell he associated with corpses.
A large shadow moved in the peripheral of his vision. The light briefly glinted off the claws, as they came at the boy.
A moment later, the massive frame of a crocodile-like alien was sailing through the air.
Taking a step into a vaulted chamber, Billy steeled himself as he traced the scent of death toward the source.
| G E R M A N Y
| April 4, 1945
A man dropped dead, right in front of him.
The teenage soldier shifted the rifle he carried onto his shoulder. His chest felt tight. His mouth hung open in abject shock.
Two men, in their sixties, too weak to walk, crawling toward a latrine -- if it could be described as such. The smell slammed into him. Blood and excrement, mingled with smoke.
The body of a child lay in the dirt. It was so emaciated that it could have been mistaken for a skeleton. A battered tin cup was in the child’s hands, still waiting in death for a charity that never came.
Shot through the back of the neck by the Nazi administration that had fled in anticipation of the American advance, as the German position continued to collapse against the combined arms of the Allies.
The teenage soldier shifted the rifle he carried onto his shoulder. His chest felt tight. His mouth hung open in abject shock.
Two men, in their sixties, too weak to walk, crawling toward a latrine -- if it could be described as such. The smell slammed into him. Blood and excrement, mingled with smoke.
The body of a child lay in the dirt. It was so emaciated that it could have been mistaken for a skeleton. A battered tin cup was in the child’s hands, still waiting in death for a charity that never came.
Shot through the back of the neck by the Nazi administration that had fled in anticipation of the American advance, as the German position continued to collapse against the combined arms of the Allies.
| P R E S E N T D A Y
The body of a young boy lay in front of him.
The memories of Buchenwald slammed into the young Batson. The taste of bile burned at the back of his throat, as the smell of ash and excrement seemed to return from the grave of memory.
His chest was tight. He couldn’t breathe.
“Who’s there!?”
The voices of the prisoner’s echoed in his mind. Some had tried to find the strength to lift the soldiers into the air. To celebrate their liberation as the American Army moved into the camp.
Most had been too weak to even stand.
Old men. And children. He could remember the look in their eyes...
“Is someone there!?”
A gasp escaped the boy, as he seemed to -- at last -- remember to breathe. That wasn’t a voice from his past.
But it was a voice that he recognized.
Making his way further into the chamber, the young Billy collided with some kind of forcefield. Taking a step back, he looked beyond the unseen barrier and could see where a man and a girl were segregated. And both looking worse for wear.
The girl, roughed up, her face lined with tears, seemed to scramble forward at the thought of rescue. Only to recoil slightly as recognition set in. “Billy?”
A pit sank in the young Batson’s gut. It was Courtney.
He’d known something was wrong earlier when he’d seen her in the courtyard. Why hadn’t he done something then?
“Where’s Mike?” the man -- Courtney’s father? -- demanded, bumping into another of the forcefields as the man tried to approach the costumed youth. “They took Mike.”
“He’s here,” Billy offered flatly, the emotion thick as he spoke. Then, clearing his throat, said, “Stand back.”
A mystic circle appeared at the boy’s fingertips. The various orbits seemed to shift and alternate, as the former sorcerer’s apprentice weaved a spell in the air. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the force fields snapped into existence and just as quickly vanished.
The man rushed past the red costumed youth.
“OH GOD.”
Courtney came barreling after the man. Stepping into her path, the young Batson spun the girl around and held onto her. “Trust me. Don’t look.”
She let out a wail that he knew only too well. He’d heard it before. He’d heard it too many times.
Her legs gave out under the weight of all the trauma that she had born. Gently, Billy guided her to the floor, as she sobbed in his arms and clawed at the arms that were still holding her. Until she just seemed to surrender and collapse into a heap.
“Who are you?”
There was an accusatory tone. One which Billy couldn’t find fault in, even as the boy turned his head to look back at the man who was now cradling the body of the boy.
Billy didn’t answer. Instead, he simply said, “I have to get you out of here.”
“How are you going to do--”
In mid-breath, the room seemed to shift and transform. There was a blur, as, for a moment, it seemed as though everything went out of focus. Then, when it had resolved itself and the world come back into view, the four of them were just outside of the Fawcett City General Hospital emergency room.
“--that, oh shit,” the man uttered, finishing the sentence even as the wave of vertigo slammed into him, as he experienced the disorientation that Billy was only too familiar with himself.
Sometime between when they had teleported and Billy rising to his feet, the figure of a young Adonis appeared in the red costume. He had the body of an Olympic demigod, with the lighting bolt on his chest crackling with an unearthly light. A sharp whistle turned several heads, as the once-and-future Captain Marvel said, “Excuse me, these people need help.”
“Who are you?”
EMTs were running toward them with stretchers. A nurse and a couple of uniformed police officers were close behind.
Then, everyone seemed to freeze in place for a moment.
Everyone, that is, except for Billy and the man.
“I’m sorry,” Billy uttered. Which seemed an inadequate expression, at best. “Truly, for what your family has been through,” the costumed figure of Captain Marvel remarked, as his form faded back into the visage of the young Billy Batson once again. Candidly, the youth offered, “They’re not going to believe the truth, so this may be difficult for you and Courtney.”
Cradling the still body of the boy in his arms, the man’s jaw tightened noticeably. “I’m familiar,” he said cryptically.
Except, now the costumed boy was gone.
As though unaware they’d ever been paused in mid-step, the EMTs and first responders snapped back into motion, rushing up toward the three.
The memories of Buchenwald slammed into the young Batson. The taste of bile burned at the back of his throat, as the smell of ash and excrement seemed to return from the grave of memory.
His chest was tight. He couldn’t breathe.
“Who’s there!?”
The voices of the prisoner’s echoed in his mind. Some had tried to find the strength to lift the soldiers into the air. To celebrate their liberation as the American Army moved into the camp.
Most had been too weak to even stand.
Old men. And children. He could remember the look in their eyes...
“Is someone there!?”
A gasp escaped the boy, as he seemed to -- at last -- remember to breathe. That wasn’t a voice from his past.
But it was a voice that he recognized.
Making his way further into the chamber, the young Billy collided with some kind of forcefield. Taking a step back, he looked beyond the unseen barrier and could see where a man and a girl were segregated. And both looking worse for wear.
The girl, roughed up, her face lined with tears, seemed to scramble forward at the thought of rescue. Only to recoil slightly as recognition set in. “Billy?”
A pit sank in the young Batson’s gut. It was Courtney.
He’d known something was wrong earlier when he’d seen her in the courtyard. Why hadn’t he done something then?
“Where’s Mike?” the man -- Courtney’s father? -- demanded, bumping into another of the forcefields as the man tried to approach the costumed youth. “They took Mike.”
“He’s here,” Billy offered flatly, the emotion thick as he spoke. Then, clearing his throat, said, “Stand back.”
A mystic circle appeared at the boy’s fingertips. The various orbits seemed to shift and alternate, as the former sorcerer’s apprentice weaved a spell in the air. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the force fields snapped into existence and just as quickly vanished.
The man rushed past the red costumed youth.
“OH GOD.”
Courtney came barreling after the man. Stepping into her path, the young Batson spun the girl around and held onto her. “Trust me. Don’t look.”
She let out a wail that he knew only too well. He’d heard it before. He’d heard it too many times.
Her legs gave out under the weight of all the trauma that she had born. Gently, Billy guided her to the floor, as she sobbed in his arms and clawed at the arms that were still holding her. Until she just seemed to surrender and collapse into a heap.
“Who are you?”
There was an accusatory tone. One which Billy couldn’t find fault in, even as the boy turned his head to look back at the man who was now cradling the body of the boy.
Billy didn’t answer. Instead, he simply said, “I have to get you out of here.”
“How are you going to do--”
In mid-breath, the room seemed to shift and transform. There was a blur, as, for a moment, it seemed as though everything went out of focus. Then, when it had resolved itself and the world come back into view, the four of them were just outside of the Fawcett City General Hospital emergency room.
“--that, oh shit,” the man uttered, finishing the sentence even as the wave of vertigo slammed into him, as he experienced the disorientation that Billy was only too familiar with himself.
Sometime between when they had teleported and Billy rising to his feet, the figure of a young Adonis appeared in the red costume. He had the body of an Olympic demigod, with the lighting bolt on his chest crackling with an unearthly light. A sharp whistle turned several heads, as the once-and-future Captain Marvel said, “Excuse me, these people need help.”
“Who are you?”
EMTs were running toward them with stretchers. A nurse and a couple of uniformed police officers were close behind.
Then, everyone seemed to freeze in place for a moment.
Everyone, that is, except for Billy and the man.
“I’m sorry,” Billy uttered. Which seemed an inadequate expression, at best. “Truly, for what your family has been through,” the costumed figure of Captain Marvel remarked, as his form faded back into the visage of the young Billy Batson once again. Candidly, the youth offered, “They’re not going to believe the truth, so this may be difficult for you and Courtney.”
Cradling the still body of the boy in his arms, the man’s jaw tightened noticeably. “I’m familiar,” he said cryptically.
Except, now the costumed boy was gone.
As though unaware they’d ever been paused in mid-step, the EMTs and first responders snapped back into motion, rushing up toward the three.
