The Dark One's Return

Yo, just thought I'd do a little author's note here. I'm the original author of The Dark One's Return and I just found this restoration wiki archive thing so I thought I would put it back out there. This is the full and unedited work, including the last two chapters about Lakingdal vaporizing a city or some bullshit. Funny story, this girl who was friends with my sister was like an actual reader of this back in the day. But she didn't like it ironically I don't think? She was genuinely praising this as like high literature. Then she found out I was the author and was simultaneously really excited and disappointed and shit. Small world, you know? Anyways here it is.

**Chapter One**

In the still air of the night a silhouette of a stout man stood against the moon. The clouds part and moonlight ignites the landscape, illuminating the figure. There stands a man with skin the color of tar, his back to the muscled orange being below him. Dressed in jeans and a black polo shirt, he raises the remains of an opaque black gemstone to the moonlight. He crushes it in his fist, then releases it, the flex diamond’s dust scattering on the breeze. The Orange creature’s maroon cape flares in the wind as he speaks.

“Well? Why did you call me here? I am a busy man, I would have ignored anyone else.”

The shadow skinned man turns slowly around to face the cat.

“Why do you think, you fool? I’m free, and the one who trapped me will suffer. I want your help.”

“And why would I help you?”

“Simple. We both want him dead. Are best shot at it is to cooperate.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You won’t.”

The Orange King turns to leave. The figure calls out to him.

“Gather your allies, all of them. I’ll be back to tell when the time comes.”

The Orange King enters the tree line, and the figure dissolves into smoke from the cliff overlooking him.

**Chapter 2**

The Orange King sits in his quarters, alone. His head rests in his hand, his eyes vacantly staring at nothing while he is lost in thought. Twilight filters in through the windows, catching the dust dancing in the air. A sharp knock at the door disturbs him.

“Come in.”

The door opens, and a pale man with spiked blond hair opens the door and walks in. He hesitates for a moment, his red and black combat suit glaring in the fading daylight. The Orange King does not turn to face him.

“You called me?”

“That I did. It appears that he is back. I need you to gather our allies for the coming war.”

“Who is back? You can’t mean…”

“I do.”

“I’ll put a team together, I assume you want me as the leader of our forces, correct?”

“No. I will be joining you on the battlefield when the day comes. Everyone must give it their all if we are to kill Phil Swift.”

**Chapter 3**

A group of six muscular, purple men with text based faces sprint across the rooftops. Ahead of them is a man carrying a camera on his shoulder, running just as fast. The moon is unseen in the night sky, hidden by gray storm clouds. Driving rain pours down from above.

“I’m sure as hell seeing this and I sure as hell don’t like it!”

Camera Man turns and throws a knife at the nearest of the Xelf Laes thralls, sticking it in its chest. The thrall stumbles, but doesn’t fall. It wrenches the blade from its ribcage and throws it back. Its violet blood is washed away by the rain as fast as it flows out. The knife flies wide past Camera Man’s left and off the side of the building.

Camera Man jumps to the next rooftop, landing just barely on the other side. The thralls follow, but one falls short. Its head crunches on the side of the building and it plummets to the streets far below.

“Come on, this is ridiculous! Where did these come from? They were all supposed to have to been destroyed after the Great War!”

A bolt of lightning snaps across the sky, illuminating a figure hanging in the air before them. It flicks its wrist, send a torrent of Flex Seal Liquid at the thralls. They screech, then fall silent as the Flex Seal Liquid covers them fully, forever sealing them away.

“You’re right camera man. They were all destroyed. I saw to it myself. All of the Xelf Laes was too. Which raises the question: where did these new thralls come from?”

“Oh thank… You. I thought I was dead for sure. Sorry… I need a moment to calm down.”

“No worries, old friend. I think my oldest enemy has returned.”

“Phil, you can’t mean…”

“I do. Liph Tfiws has returned.”

**Chapter 4**

A distorted and monstrous being treads down a hallway in its impregnable home, eyes wary, on its way to its living quarters at the center of the complex. It pauses, standing still as the dead, then whips around, transforming as it does. It bulges and contorts to five times its size, a hulking mass of muscle, scale, and carapace. The abominations claws hang at the throat of a stout man in a collared blue shirt and light beige pants. The man speaks to the horror looming over him.

“Hey, calm down, I won’t hurt you.”

The creature doesn’t falter.

“Seriously, I’m here to ask your help. Besides, you couldn’t beat me.”

“You, beat me? Ha. I only have living gods to fear. I am curious though, how did you get in here?”

“I cut the door in half, don’t worry though, I repaired it.”

This whole building is made out of flex tapium and flex swiftium. That door was a solid foot of flexanium flex tapium alloy. Nothing, and I mean nothing, can just cut through it.”

“Well, I happen to have made that stuff in the first place. I think I, of all people, should be able to cut it.”

“Those metals were created by Phil Swift. Do you mean to claim you’re him?”

“I mean, I am Phil Swift. I’m surprised you’ve never seen a picture of me before, my church is global.”

Hegamal takes a step back and withdraws his hand, but does not return to his normal form.

“I just thought you were a hoax, no living being can be as strong as the stories say.”

“They tend to exaggerate a bit, but not that much.”

“So, what would a being as strong as you want with me?”

“I need allies. A war is coming. My greatest enemy has returned, and I need to gather the strongest beings of the universe to face him. You are one of them.”

“And why would I help you?”

“Because you became a monster so the other monsters could never hurt you again. Why not stop the monsters hurting other people too?”

Hegamal looks towards the floor, and reverts to his default shape. Without looking up, he speaks.

“Just… call me when you need me. I’m not going anywhere.”

**Chapter 5**

A motley crew of warriors stands atop a cliff overlooking a fortress. Their leader, the Orange King, stands at the front, his robe flowing in the breeze. At his side is Calvin, his second in command, given power by his metafictional tiger familiar. Behind them stand a dog man with cream colored skin and brown ears, his candy red tongue hanging from his mouth, and a slightly overweight man with frosted tips and sunglasses wearing a black shirt emblazoned with flames around its cuffs.

“Well men, this is it. I know we went over this before, but we’ll go over it again.”

“Borf.”

“Well said, Odie. Now, this is the home of Hegamal. Word has it he could pose a threat to even *him* in a fight, so tread carefully. The whole building is supposed to be a deathtrap, so tread carefully.”

“Can we cook him afterwards, ‘cause I brought the flavortown sauce.”

“Hey! Shut it. The boss is talking.”

“He ain’t my boss, his boss is the same as mine.”

“Keep on like that and I’ll disembowel you.”

“You’re welcome to try.”

“Borf.”

“He’s right. Calvin, Guy, stop bickering. This will need focus. Now let’s go.”

The Orange King jumps down to the valley floor below, and the rest follow suit. He marches on towards the doors of the redoubt, confidence in his gait and the wind in his cape.

**Chapter 6**

The group walks down the first hallway, the daylight shining through the open doorway behind them the only light. The doors lay broken and bent on the ground. Aside from the rustling of the band’s movement, all is silent. They press on.

░░▒▓██████▓▒░░

The entrance long since left behind, the Orange King has lit a torch. The group marches through the dark, metal hallways until faced with a large, grandiose set of doors. Calvin takes an offensive stance and manifest Hobbes, the spectral tiger’s glowing and crackling outline of crimson energy engulfing his right arm. The Orange king waves him off, and simply pushes the door open.

They enter the room, though Calvin maintains his aura. Once cleared the doors close swiftly but silently, and an immense grinding sound is heard from the center of the room. Six rings of colored fire ignite on the ground, a latticework of runes and sigils within them. Torches light in their sconces on the pillars along the sides of the hall as from each ring rises an immense demon, each of a different element. From the center of the room a massive automaton unfurls itself from the ground, the grey metal of its body appearing dull and dead in the torchlight. The golem levels its gaze at the group, its eyes igniting with the violet light of death. The fiends take formation behind it: Fire, Ice, and Lightning at its right, and Earth, Air, and Shadow at its left. The monsters advance towards the invaders of their master’s home.

**Chapter 7**

Calvin dashes forward, the aura of Hobbes crackling and sparking around him. He collides with the right hand group of demons, a storm of blazing and scorching claws and teeth. He grips the back of the frost devil, slashing and tearing at its spine. It roars and slashes at him with frozen claws, just barely falling short of him.

Odie reaches the group, his tongue lashing at the demon of earth. Great chunks of dirt and stone are slashed off, lacerations slathering the whole torso of the monster.

The Orange King blurs and vanishes, appearing behind the golem as he kicks it in the back of the head, then jumps back off it. Unable to be evaded with its target in the air, the golem smacks the Orang King from the air, sending him flying into the wall like a ragdoll in a cloud of dust.

The fire fiend points its palm toward the glowing avatar of rage on the ice demon’s back, blasting it with a torrent of hellfire. It shrieks as it’s melted from behind, twisting and spasming in its death, Calvin stuck fast to its back all the while, screaming almost as loudly. The stream of flames is cut off as a massive stone pillar collides with its caster, smashing it to the floor.

The Orange King peels himself off the wall, and dashes over to assist Odie. The wind demon is looming behind the dog when the Orange King appears above him, then kicks downward with a deafening boom, the sonic boom of the near light speed kick annihilating the gaseous assailant.

“Borf.”

“No problem, you stupid mutt, I got your back.”

“Borf.”

Guy Fieri lifts another stone column, and throws it straight at the golem, catching it in the side of the head and knocking it to the floor. He hefts the one he threw prior and leaps into the air. Calvin rolls of the back of the dead ice demon and gets to his feet, Hobbes flickering back on. Guy brings the pillar down on the fire demon as it starts to rise, snuffing it out. The lightning fiend stands before the two.

The Orange King begins to glow, the fire of his soul burning around him. He heats to an almost blinding ball of orange fire, then dives at the shadow demon. The shooting star burns it to nothing. Odie’s fist glows, taking on the likeness of his past self, and his blow shatter the earth demon.

Calvin yells, Hobbes engorging and burning around him, and dives straight at the lightning demon. He takes the hellspawn of pure energy in his avatar’s jaws and rips it to pieces, the electricity being absorbed by Hobbes. The four turn to face the golem, its eyes burning pools of dead light.

**Chapter 8**

The hulking blightsteel titan takes a step towards the four, the stone floor splintering under its foot. Odie leaps straight for its face, his tongue lashing out at it with blinding speed, slicing at it over and over. The machine grabs his tongue, far faster than it should be for its size, and swings him by it. Odie smashes into the floor as his tongue is ripped out, and he lies on the cracked floor as it reconstitutes.

The glowing tiger avatar collides with the mecha, an incarnation of fire and rage, and the metal of the robot starts to glow. Calvin tears and claws at it, slashing at its chest and taking half molten gouges out of its armor. The golem raises its arm from the ground and grabs the fireball on its chest, then begin smashing him into the floor as it stands up. Its hand begins to glow red as it beets Calvin off the floor, the stone scorching and breaking with each blow.

A pillar collides with the robots shoulder, knocking it off balance and making it drop calvin, then the Orange King appears in front of its face. His claws glow, then he tears in to the war machine’s eyes. It shrieks, and the Orange King jumps back off it, the two orbs of violet energy burning in his hands. He crushes them. The golem regains its footing then lifts the pillar in its good hand angling it to parry incoming attacks. Odie stands up, his tongue only partially regenerated, and Guy Fieri lifts the other pillar. Calvin lies still in his glowing, smoking crater. The Orange King lands fluidly on the ground.

Guy lobs the pillar, the golem hears it and swings blindly, smacking it from the air. The Orange King dashes through the opening, appearing behind the head of the machine and performing the semantics for an ancient power. His fist glows with the might of the Borf Star, and he brings it down on the head of the golem. The metal explodes and shatters, and the headless body falls to its knees before crumpling to the floor.

**Chapter 9**

The Orange King rushes to Calvin in the blazing pit, not sparing a glance for the mechanical titan they had just crushed. He found his old friend broken in the equally broken floor. His eyes were closed, and for a moment The Orange King thought he was breathing. In close, the heat’s distortion of light could play no such tricks. He holds him, his face twisted with anguish, then puts him down and regains his composure.

“Guy, make yourself useful and pull the golem’s chest open. *Do not* damage the core. Time is of the essence.”

“You got it man.”

“Go.”

Guy Fieri leaps into action and onto the golem’s ribcage, then tears into it. The Orange King Joins him, and when the dead indigo light is seen he plunges his hand into the internal machinery for it. It comes out clenching an orb of pure necromantic energy. He rushes back to the crater, Guy Fieri and Odie in tow.

The Orange King kneels beside Calvin, then presses the orb into his chest. It sparks and fidgets, deforming before giving in and entering the body. The blood in Calvin’s begins to glow violet, creeping out from his heart. After several endless seconds, his eyes snap open, and he breathes.

“God, ow. Damnit. Everything hurts.”

Calvin sits up, gazing around the crater.

“I… I thought I lost you there for a minute buddy.”

Stray tears run down the Orange Kings face.

“Well, I think you did, to be honest.”

Calvin is cut off by an embrace, and he smiles.

“Just don’t do it again.”

**Chapter 10**

A portly man stands in a dark room, the only light from candles around the runed circle on the floor and a computer monitor on a desk against the far wall. Beside him is a boy. The lights glint off his glasses and the metal of his right arm. The man gazes down at the circle, checking that everything on it is correct, and the boy begins to tap his foot nervously.

“Calm down, Jay, it’s correct.”

“Great! It will work?”

“Absolutely.”

“I was sure I would be wrong on at least part of it.”

“I knew you could do it, champ. Now, let’s fire it up. Would you do the honors? And mind the center.”

The boy raises his left arm, and brings the blade of his right across his forearm. It drips onto the sigils below, which in turn begin to glow. Twenty in total, all of different colors.

“I’ve never gotten why people in movies always cut their hand for this stuff. It doesn’t matter what part of the body you bleed from.”

“Dramatic effect?”

“I guess. It’s just dumb is all.”

“Well, we should really get outside so we can greet them as they arrive.”

The two exit the room, and the thuds of them walking upstairs reverberate through the quiet basement. A drop of blood rolls across the circle, touching the still dark symbol in the center of the glowing ring. It ignites, glowing pure black.

**Chapter 11**

The four once again stand before a massive pair of doors, the grandest and last of them. They linger, knowing what lies on the other side.

“So this is it. At least the trek through this stupid building is over.”

“Stop being so pessimistic, Guy.”

“Chill out, fireball.”

“Stop it you two. You’re grown men, stop bickering like children.”

“Borf.”

“Heh. Well, anyways, our target is behind this door. Hegamal. When we go in, we kill him as quickly as possible. He is undoubtedly dangerous. Give him an opening, and he’ll take your damn arm off. It’s happened to me before. He knows that we’re here already, so we won’t have the element of surprise. There won’t be any second chances this time, so don’t get careless.”

The Orange King turns towards the door, a smile on his face.

“Everyone ready?”

He kicks the door in. It sails across the room, hitting the far wall with a crunch. A lone figure stands in the center of the floor, hunched and distorted under his cloak. He turns to face the four intruders, and grin breaks out across his face as well.

“Welcome, guests.”

His eyes flare with an entire rainbow of magic energies and his body contorts and bulges out.

“To your graves that is.”

**Chapter 12**

Hegamal launches forward, a shooting star of magic and muscle. The Orange King, at the front of the group, side steps, and Guy Fieri tackles the monstrosity. They both go sprawling to the ground. Calvin wastes no time in laying into the abomination, Hobbes brighter and deadlier than ever before. Hegamal’s hands are engulfed with a complete spectrum of energy, and he swats Calvin off him. He rises to his feet.

“Was that meant to hurt m-”

He’s cut off as the Orange King appears before his throat and slashes it apart, anhiliting his vocal cords.

“I’ve had enough out of you.”

Odie leaps into action, his tongue lashing out at the monster. Hegamal counters, engaging another transformation. His skin turns to metallic, finely spiked carapace, and Odie’s tongue is slashed badly on it. The dog backs off to recover.

“Borf.”

The Orange King appears beside him.

“You alright, that look painful as hell.”

“Borf.”

“Alright, but don’t push yourself to hard. You can’t fight if you’re dead.”

Calvin leaps above Hegamal, and striking him like a meteorite and knocking him off balance. Guy Fieri follows up by grabbing Hegamal by the waist and supplexing him, cracking the metal floor with his head. Hegamal groans, and the four regroup.

**Chapter 13**

Hegamal rises to the ground, magic crackling around him. His rainbow lightning engulfs his whole body, an impregnable suit of burning, living armor.

“Try hurting me through this, assholes. Nothing gets through the Armor of the Old Gods!”

The armor dims, colors dropping out one by one, until none of it is left. Calvin doubles over laughing.

“I thought it was invulnerable, we didn’t do anything yet. Are you an idiot?”

“Screw off cat!”

Calvin recovers, then conjures Hobbes around his hand. He places his hand firmly on the Orange King’s shoulder.

“Go get ‘em tiger.”

Hobbes flares up around the Orange King, burning with fury. The Orange King leaps forward, somehow faster than before. He appears behind Hegamal’s back and slashes him down the length of his spine hundreds of times in an instant, his blows vastly more devastating with the plasmatic avatar reinforcing them. Hegamal  falls to the ground, twitching.

“Ha... aah… it doesn… t.... matter. I- I can’t die… n- not… truly. You are a- haa- aah… wasting your time wi- with me... “

The body of the monster starts to destabilize, some parts reducing to ash, others to slag, and some not dissipating at all. It doesn’t move again.

**Chapter 14**

Silence hung over the city as the moon rose, as did a disc of swirling black clouds. Traffic had slowed, then crawled, then halted altogether. Now people were getting out of their cars for a clearer view of the midnight storm rising in a massive pillar from the outskirts of the suburbs. The sounds and bustle of the metropolis drained out as the column of shadow grew, its base expanding to envelop another block, then another. Abruptly, the spire stopped spinning, the whole cyclone around it drifting to a halt. Then the whispering began.

It was deafening. It was as if every atom of the storm was muttering gibberish under its breath. Then as the black hurricane began to rotate in reverse, starting from the outside and working its way in, somehow the whispers intensified. The twisting blanket above began to shrink once the epicenter began to spin, and the black sky receded into itself. The population’s memorization was broken then. Those that had left their cars returned to them, and others ran for cover or buildings. Anything was a refuge, two men huddled together in a phonebooth. All the while, the core of the storm was building, bulging at the top and narrowing at the ground, a massive spine embedded in the earth and poised to thrust down and shatter the land itself. The streets were empty as the final remnants of the clouds were sucked into the eye of the storm, and the utterances climaxed.

Then the drill bit of a cloud thrust downward, the deafening murmurs snapping away as it burst on the ground, the storm then surging outward through the streets. The murmurs cut off as its immensity flooded the city, a deluge of dark mist crackling with weak thunder. People braced themselves as it washed over them, and as it cleared they found no harm to have been done. Not until they looked up at least.

**Chapter 15**

Some *thing*, an ungodly but disturbingly human being, mountainous and almost ethereal, hovered in the sky where the black tempest had been. Countless grey limbs hung down, limp as if dead, from what could barely be called its torso. It was four crescents of flesh, each with pronounced vertebrae running down them, fused to the bottom of its warped ribcage. The aberration’s head was bowed, its back to the city. Its veins, no, its very blood, glowed. It glowed like lightning, bright lagoon blue and sun yellow, shining under its skin. The most blinding was its heart, a blazing star held within the confines of its chest.

It was the dead of night, but the city was lit as bright as a summer day by the ichor of the otherworldly gargantuan. As they saw it, the city folk froze, either in awe, in fear, or both. They stayed petrified as its head began to tilt up.

Its limbs began to animate, stretching and twisting to remove the aches of disuse. Its head leveled out, then twisted around like an owl’s. It was almost like that of a human, but was mouthless and earless and blank. Its faceless face glared at the city, hate and malice as easy to read on it as a children’s book. Its body spun around as well, the opposite way its head had. It then brought its innumerable arms up, and abruptly clawed its chest apart. Its flesh tore. Its blood spilled. The skyscrapers illuminated with the light of a thousand thousand lighting strikes, then shook with thunder. The abomination lingered for a moment, then vanished, its light winking out. The Silence hung over the city.

**Chapter 16**

Liph sits at his desk playing minesweeper, backlit by the twilight filtering in through the half closed blinds on the window. Jaydonis bursts into the room.

“Liph, the first Harbinger is here!”

“Well, bring them in to meet me.”

“That might prove problematic, you see…”

“What?”

“You know how their form is different each time they manifest in a reality, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Lakingdal appeared as a skyscraper sized eldritch monstrosity. A storm cloud just kind of appeared over Baku, Azerbaijan, and he came out of it. He tore his chest open and the lighting leveled the entire city.”

“That is quite a bit of damage, I guess they don’t call him the “Bleeding Star” for nothing.”

“Yeah, well he disappeared the same way he arrived and we have found no trace of him since.”

“This is turning out quite poorly. Jay, go have someone make a smaller circle on a moveable surface. I want to hang it on my wall like a clock so I can see when the others arrive.”

“I’ll do that right away.”

“Thanks.”

Liph turns back to his computer and opens up his myspace account. It appears someone has covered Lakingdal’s entrance up as a nuclear attack. Yet another setback. The point of the Harbingers to act as heralds, and they can’t if the public doesn’t know about them. He leans back in his chair a tad to far and falls backwards, smacking his head on the ground. Liph gets up grumblings.

“Just one thing after another today.”