Edison Palmer navigated the stairs leading down, somewhat clumsily, holding onto the ancient hand rail as he went. The lighting was poor here and the steps were creaky with age, not at all in good repair like the upper two levels of the club. With each step down, he began sinking back into the vision, deeper and deeper, making the real world almost invisible. There was a new mood to this spectral reality, an unsettling sense that something was waiting below. He nervously tugged at the good luck charm under his shirt and found it cold to the touch.

Ardent and Nemesis were close behind and after a few steps, the costumed vigilante pulled out his flashlight to help light the way. They could all see that the stairs would be coming to a platform soon. It was too dark to see the area beyond it, but they could also tell that there was at least another level beyond because the stairs continued downwards.

The rickety landing let out a loud creak, shocking in the stillness, as Palmer stepped onto it. He hissed in surprise, not at the noise, but at the sudden appearance of a shadowy trio before him. He squeezed the handrail to remind himself what was vision and what was reality. Trinity and her companion, at some point in the past, had been joined by another man.

"They stopped here," he whispered. "They were joined by a man in a suit. The Professor." Palmer didn't explain how knew the man was called the Professor. He couldn't explain. He just knew.

"There's a closet or something here," he continued. "They took some paper bags from it and kept going down."

In the dark, unseen behind Palmer and the young Ardent, Nemesis nodded. He was silent now, not speaking unless required, and taking care in his movements. His every move projected a hair-trigger, and even the set of his mouth and jaw (could anyone see it) would have left little room for doubt as to the degree of seriousness he attached to their current activities. Though his flashlight remained steady on the stairs his eyes continually darted around, trying to catch any hint of movement on the edges of the light or beyond. His ears strained for sound. Every fiber of his being was ready to confront the person or persons responsible for the death of three women and their as-yet-unborn children.

Confront them, and then kick their sorry asses back to whatever hell they came from.

If he had one regret it was that he had left his staff in Palmer’s car. He still had his billy club and a host of other options, but right now his staff would’ve felt particularly comfortable in his grip.

He refrained from sighing and instead concentrated on following Palmer as quietly as possible.

The thumpa-thumpa sound of the music was growing fainter as they went down the stairs, but it had by no means vanished all together. Ardent's eyes cut through the darkness with ease - another of the odd abilities he'd been reborn with - and he took in the new surroundings carefully, looking not only ahead but up, and down at the stairs themselves. He said nothing, and though the light from Nemesis' torch would no doubt alert anyone below that someone was coming, there was no need to advertise the quantity.

Upon reaching the platform there was only silence in the dark rooms beyond the stairwell, and no sounds drifted up from the level below. Only the lingering music from above them spilled down the stairwell to help remind them that they were in the bowels of a night club.

Edison paused briefly to indicate the direction that the trio had gone, before continuing on down the stairs. With each step his vision became more intense until it battled so solidly with reality that only the rickety handrail at his side kept him steady. The medallion that laid on his chest started to thrum lightly; it was more a feeling than a sound.

Nemesis waited for Ardent to go before he tested his weight on the next step. It groaned loudly in protest but held. The three investigators continued down cautiously, mistrustful of the ancient stairway. Palmer was grateful when he reached the bottom and felt solid stone beneath his feet.

The air was cooler now, and it carried a faint musty odor. The flickering beam of Nemesis's flashlight revealed flashes of damp brickwork that was moldy in places, and crumbling in others. The stairs continued to announce the descent of Nemesis, but in between his steps was nothing but a deathly quiet. Ardent's feet made no noise on the stones, he moved as quietly as a ghost.

From the faint stirring of the air, Palmer guessed there were passageways to the left and right, but the ghostly images of Trinity and her two companions went straight ahead through a doorway. He took a few steps forward and stopped in confusion. One moment the way was open; the next the door, which looked heavy and new, was closed. Open, closed. Open, closed.

As he fumbled for his flashlight, Palmer screwed his eyes shut and tried to push the double vision away. Between the mental fatigue, and the strange soft call of his medallion, it was difficult to focus his will.

"A moment, please... there's....", the young mans head was tilting to the left, then the right. He looked for all the world like a spaniel trying to catch a scent. "Something’s here. Something’s...nefas. Not right." He shook his head, blinked a few times. "I wish I could be specific, but it felt like there was someone else here just a moment ago. Two someone's, to be precise." His voice was pitched low, almost a whisper in the dark. "And now they're gone, and this whole room... pessimus."

The medallion at Edison's neck throbbed two times, and with each swell he felt a cascade of power seep into him from the familiar metal that rested against his chest. The tendrils of power slid beneath his skin and under different circumstances could have been intoxicating, but the shock of it combined with everything else that was going on, was nerve wracking. Whatever it was, that the medallion was doing, wasn't something that he'd experienced before.

Ardent looked over at the detective, noting the intense concentration on the man's face and wondering what it meant. "Tread carefully gentlemen. By the pricking of my thumbs, and all that..." He paused for a moment, then added "...not that I believe in any of that rubbish mind you..."

Nemesis didn’t bother to reply, but he did retrieve his billy club from its catch on his utility belt. He wished he’d brought his staff, but it seemed silly to bring it into the club at the time. Now…not so much.

The vigilante paused at the base of the stairs, keeping the other two men in front of him. Palmer seemed to be going for his flashlight now but Ardent almost didn’t need a light at all. And while Nemesis considered himself quite the sneaky bastard on occasion it had not gone unnoticed that Ardent made no sound whatsoever above the very faint rustling of his clothes. That there was more to the young man than initially met the eye was a given; that Nemesis intended to keep the young man in front of him as much as possible was also a given. Still, there was something…personable, perhaps…about the guy that made one if not like him then certainly give him the benefit of the doubt.

Even if he was a big freakin’ weirdo.

“Palmer,” the vigilante whispered just loud enough to carry. “Everything okay up there?”

Nemesis saw him looking intently at the door. His hand went to open it twice and paused each time, seemingly too disoriented to finish the task.

Nemesis stifled a petulant sigh and eased his way past Ardent, patting Palmer on the shoulder. “It’s okay, man,” he said in low tones. “I got this.”

Taking a deep breath Nemesis reached out and turned the knob on the door.

The door began to swing open, the anticipation was so keen that the entire room seemed to hold it's breath, waiting for the inevitable creak. ...but it never came. Each of the heroes began to hear a very low monotonous mumble from somewhere beyond. As they listened the mumble intensified into a more coherent chant, but it was so fluid in harmony that they couldn't know for sure how many were involved.

Upon seeing a faint glow coming from a partially opened door, Nemesis covered his light. He used it for a moment more, to check the floor in front of them for any unexpected pitfalls, and then extinguished it completely. He kept half an eye on Ardent as he stepped first into the doorway, finally confirming for the distracted Palmer that the door was now open.

A spider web that had been undisturbed for days beyond imagining finally met it's end when Nemesis took that step. The silken strands broken by his covered head, fell around them, the lengths tickling at his face until he swiped them away.

Ardent and Edison followed behind the imposing hero as he inched closer to the door. The paranormal detective confirmed with a point of his finger that his vision was indeed leading them to the door where the mumbling and faint light were coming from.

Ardent was peering intently at Edison. "Is he alright," the young man whispered to Nemesis. "He's looking a bit peaky."

”Not a clue,” Nemesis replied in similar tones. “I’ve known him for about two hours more than I’ve known you.”

"You don't belong here," Palmer mumbled blankly. He shook his head and took a step away from Ardent. "I was having this weird..." he struggled for an explanation. "Anyway, I'm okay." In fact, he realized, he felt pretty good. Vitality was one of the sensations coming through his medallion. The rest he would have to puzzle out later. For now he was just glad to have enough mental focus to push aside the double vision.

Ardent gazed at him steadily - if the younger man was concerned by Palmer's comment, there was no outward sign.

Nemesis stopped and glanced at his two companions, shoving his flashlight back into its pouch. “If anyone has any reservations about what’s going to happen I’d love to hear about it now.” He fit his billy club—a long solid-looking weapon not unlike those used by police—into his right hand and reached up to his goggles with his left. There was a faint whine and his goggles gleaned greenish in the light for a split second.

"Right behind you," Palmer returned.

Ardent smiled, a thin tight thing, and nodded. "Likewise."

After a few steps into the next room, the droll monotonous mumble began taking shape.

Diabolus of infernus regnum hic nos
Exorior quod addo vestri substantia ad nostrum universitas
Exorior quod addo vestri vox ad nostrum universitas

The hairs on the back of Ardent and Palmer's neck began prickling to attention, as the summoning chant continued. Even Nemesis could feel a heaviness in the air; either something unnatural was truly afoot, or it was messing with his mind just enough to not be sure.

Exorior quod addo vestri formido lux lucis ad nostrum universitas
Exorior
Ex...or...ior
Ex...or...ior

Their footfalls went completely unnoticed by the cultists in the other room. The chant reached a repetitive, almost musical pitch, as the three unlikely companions found themselves at the half way opened door that marked the entrance to the room.

"Come forth? I think not," Ardent hissed softly. His previously affable expression was gone - in its place was something hard and not at all forgiving.

"What's the rest of it mean?" Palmer asked quietly. He felt he ought to know the answer. It was if there was something behind the chant, something he could almost hear. He laid his hand on his chest and felt the medallion thrumming to the same cadence.

"They're trying to raise a demon, using the life of the child to open the way,"Ardent whispered hotly. "And their Latin is appalling."

Nemesis said nothing, merely stood and assessed the room, his eyes darting from point to point behind his goggles. The tell-tale creak of his fist tightening around the handle of his billy club was the only evidence of his tension.

As the three men looked in they saw a large pentagram in blood red, sketched roughly upon the stone floor. The furnishings in the room were sparse; a stone pedestal, a table and a single chair were the only things in the large room. Upon the table there were black candles and burning incense. There was also a bundled up blanket laying on the planks, but if there was anything inside of it, it was too hard to tell.

There were three college-age students standing at even intervals around the Pentagram, as well as an older man that must have been the Professor. Trinity and her tall gaunt lackey were accompanied by another girl their age. She was slightly rotund and had red curly hair that framed her very pale face. Even from this distance they could tell her unease by the way she kept opening her eyes and glancing around furtively before closing them again.

One of the babies was held in Trinity's arms. The baby appeared lifeless at first glance, but as their gazes lingered they could detect the slightest of movements to indicate that there was still some life there. The chant continued ad nauseam as the Professor set the scroll he was holding down on the pedestal and picked up a very sharp knife. His voice joined in the chorus as he began to make his way over to the near lifeless babe in Trinity's arms.

Exorior

Ex...or...ior
Ex...or...ior
Ex...or...ior
Ex...or...ior

Ardent's arm raised, his hand shot out, fingers extended. "I'm going to try and take the knife. I'm telekinetic. They shouldn't be able to sense it coming either," Ardent whispered. His eyebrows narrowed. "At least, no one else has so far."

Nemesis’ hand slid across his belt with practiced ease. There was a faint snap and his hand suddenly contained a small object looking like nothing more than a two-headed yo-yo.

“Go for it,” he whispered. "Tall and skinny is mine."

The Professor came to a pause in front of Trinity, his mouth moving to the tune of the monotonous chant. All four of the cultists were completely mesmerized when all of a sudden the knife was ripped by some invisible force from the older man's hand. He gasped in confusion as he swiped wildly, trying to recover the blade that was now just out of his reach. It only took a heartbeat before he recovered his calm and yelled out to the others. "Intruders!"

Just as the Professor got the words out of his mouth, Nemesis let his weighted bolo loose. The tall gaunt teen had barely had time to open his eyes before the whirring sound of the vigilante's weapon surrounded him. It whipped painfully around his chest to entangle his arms and made him yell, the sound of both fear and shock evident in his startled scream.

The girl with the pudgy face and the fiery red hair, stood perfectly still, her eyes fixated on the blade hovering in the air. She took one step and then another backwards, away from the pentagram, still unaware of exactly what was going on.

Trinity on the other hand had managed to take in the whole scene, her eyes focused on the half closed door. She pulled the baby tightly against her chest and rushed over to the table, picking up another knife and holding it dangerously close to the baby's neck. Her ice blue eyes glittered with savage intellect as she wordlessly met Nemesis' gaze and threatened to finish off the helpless babe.

Nemesis stared hard at the woman, his every fiber of being willing her to not harm the baby while at the same time conveying unbridled violence should that come to pass. He turned slightly toward her, gauging his actions and estimating his chances of ending this with no harm to the baby.

As the drama in the room unfolded, the chant came to an abrupt end, but it was replaced by the sound of the professor's lone voice as he began another incantation. Both of his hands lifted towards the door as the incomprehensible words spilled off of his tongue. In response to his spell, the air behind the trio swirled into the sacrifice chamber, opening the door wide to unveil them to all within the room. While the brush of the wind was felt by all of them, only Nemesis sensed it tightening about him, starting at his feet and swirling upwards to wrap his torso.

A brief look of surprise flashed over the vigilante’s face before he settled on fury.

“Son of a bitch!” His lower face, the only part visible beneath the mask, darkened with color as he strained against his unseen bonds. They bent and flexed, giving a little with each of his attempts, he could tell that in a few moments he would be free of them.

Ardent made an impatient gesture with his hand, and the dagger flipped end over end towards the three at the door, whizzing past them to skitter harmlessly across the stone of the passage they'd just come down. The young man's curly black hair tossed in the winds at the door, briefly obscuring eyes gone a vivid shade of green. He stepped forward soundlessly, slowly walking towards Trinity and the babe.

"No demons tonight, Trinity. Surrender the child and there may be something left for you besides a cell."

Ice blue eyes, cold and unfeeling, turned from Nemesis to meet Ardent's ever changing gaze. "Never! You will answer to my master, now!" She drew back the knife with vicious intent, ready to slit the new babe's throat and spill its innocent, unknowing blood. Her eyes darted to the professor, looking for his nod of approval.

Edison hesitated, his eyes darting between the Professor and the strangely immobile Nemesis. "Fuck it," he muttered. With a bellow that surprised himself as much as the cultists, he took a running leap and threw himself at the Professor.

The elderly gentleman was sharing an unsavory moment with Trinity, their eyes locked in a rapturous embrace. He had turned slightly to pull another small knife from the stone altar, and was not able to dodge Edison in his distracted state. "Ooomph!" The air escaped the professor as Palmer's weight pinned the man on the blood red pentagram underneath them. The psychic pulled back a fist and took aim at the weakly struggling man.

Nemesis and Ardent watched from the doorway as the scene unfolded. Edison's move made Trinity roar in frustration. She clutched the baby into her chest again, but beamed her complete attention on Palmer, who lay prone in front of her. He didn't see her when her silver hair began to rise around her, bristling like an angry cat, as three icicles, sharp as knifes shot from her eyes. Two of them sunk into their companion, one into his neck and the other into his shoulder. Fresh blood burbled from his wound, he was hurt, but not mortally wounded.

Palmer gasped, and his upraised hand clutched the side of his neck. The wounds felt...weird...and he was suddenly aware again of the pulse of the medallion around his neck. A wave of dizziness swept over him as he watched his blood spatter on the pentagram.

On the demon summoning pentagram...powered by blood sacrifice...inside a building so full of weird mojo that his abilities had been going haywire since setting foot inside.

With a low growl of effort culminating in a loud grunting sound, Nemesis suddenly broke free of his magical bonds, almost falling over with the effort. He recovered quickly and palmed another item from his utility belt, this one looking like nothing more than a gun-metal-gray hockey puck. He stood his ground, ready for action but unsure of which way to move.

Ardent made a sweeping motion, palm down, and Palmer slid gently out of the pentagram, coming to fetch up against the wall near where Ardent and Nemesis stood. "Your ritual is flawed," Ardent said, staring hotly up at Trinity as he crouched down to check on the bleeding man. "And what is coming won't care who it kills. Give us the baby and we'll help you stop it, and try to keep you safe."

Even as Ardent felt the strong pulse under his finger tips, Edison was already pulling himself to his feet. "Oh fuck," he said shakily. The professor let out a wheezy noise that might have been a laugh. Palmer raised his voice and said with remarkable calmness, "Something's coming."

Edison's stomach sank as his eyes focused on the vivid red trail of his own blood that led from the summoning circle to Ardent. Even now the young man was emitting a strange vibe that made the psychic want to shrink away. As he watched, the blood began to sizzle and evaporate inside the pentagram, the resulting steam smelled of sulfur.

Nemesis felt a thickness in the air that was a mixture of fear, exultation and some undefined heaviness that seemed to press at him from all sides, but he shook off the feeling with a growl. He didn’t like surprises, and he didn’t like uncontrolled situations, so it was time to take control.

Tall, gaunt and stupid was still wrapped up in his bolo, struggling with all of his might, but obviously outmatched. The pudgy redhead was about to make a run for it so she wasn’t a threat. The professor was getting up slowly, an easy target if necessary. Trinity no longer held the knife to the baby’s throat but she hadn’t loosened her grip on the baby, either. She was looking…unfocused. Almost high.

In a split second he’d made his decision, and in one fluid motion he was in front of her, not quite looming but definitely filling her field of vision. He wanted to make sure he had her undivided attention.

Trinity's ice blue eyes tried to focus on him through her delirium, as the wretched smell of sulfur slowly filled the room.

“It’s over, Trinity,” he said, his voice flat. “The ritual—“ He gestured vaguely. “Blood’s already been spilled. It’s over. Give me the baby so we can all get out of here.” He held out his hands, the billy club dangling by its wrist thong. “Come on, Trinity. Give me the baby before anyone else gets hurt,” he said softly.

Nemesis' words must have gotten through to some part of her; she blinked her eyes twice and swung her head eagerly to look at the summoning circle. As she did so, her grip loosened on the baby, until it literally fell from her arms as she realized in her enthusiasm that the ritual had somehow been completed.

It was no great feat to reach out and let the baby fall into his arms, but Nemesis still felt the knot in his stomach unravel as he cradled the newborn to him and turned away, shielding the child from any further harm. Nemesis moved away from Trinity, back toward the stairs, and cast around the room, attempting to develop a plan of egress.

Palmer cast a weary look around around the room, trying to account for all the babies. His gaze rested on Trinity's face, transported in ecstasy, and then snapped back to the pentagram. "We have to get out of here!" Palmer yelled. "Now!"

The stone floor below them began to quake, and an unholy sound began to howl with the unnatural wind that the Professor had summoned. The howl was too much for the red head, who finally screamed in terror and broke from the room, shoving past Ardent in her hurry. Her eyes met his briefly and in a last ditch plea for forgiveness she spoke to him. "The baby. The other baby! It's on the table. Hurry!"

He watched her as she stumbled out of the doorway, sobbing, mascara running in lines over her plump cheeks, then turned and looked towards the table, taking two steps up into the air to get a better view. Spying the blanket-wrapped bundle, his hand stretched out once more.

The irregular bundle made a bit of a squawk as it was lifted from the table, and one pudgy dark brown hand could be seen thrashing the air from the muddle of blankets. A moment later and the child was in Ardent's arms.

The tall gaunt man was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with his situation as the chaos and evil swelled around him. "Trinity! Trinity! Help me!" The woman completely ignored his pleas as she ran instead to the professor and helped him regain his feet. The entangled man began to hop backwards towards the door, he too rethinking the wisdom of being in the room. Unfortunately he tripped and fell prone to the floor, but still he squirmed in an attempt to escape.

The quake in the floor intensified and Edison could feel the looming entity through the medallion that rested on his chest. His eyes lingered on the pentagram and he felt a surge of strength within him, it centered in his chest and emanated outwards, drawing him inexplicably towards the circle. Something inside of him felt in tune with the magic of this place, overwhelmed and outmatched, but somehow he was speaking its language. He could even see the purple spirit of the magic begin to slip through the fractures in the floor and knew that within moments the very foundation that Nemesis was standing on would shatter beneath him.

Palmer found himself before the pentagram and smiled grimly. He knew what to do - in theory. He stooped down, rubbed the wound in his neck, and smeared his blood on the perimeter formed by the pentagram. He scuttled hastily around the mystic symbol, wincing at the overwhelming power coming from within, until he had completed a thin circle of his own blood. He spoke the words he'd once paid a lot of money to learn, and hoped he'd gotten his money's worth.

Seeing that Ardent had secured what looked to be (he hoped!) the other baby, Nemesis stepped quickly to the strange, thin man. “Can you take the babies out? We need to get them—everyone—out of here.” He glanced quickly over his shoulder. “Take the babies. I’ll get Palmer.”

"Of course," Ardent replied as he accepted the other child. "I'll take them upstairs and be back as soon as I can."He shuffled the two crying infants about a bit, cast a dubious look at Palmer, then turned and headed swiftly for the stairs. Stacey would soon have something to occupy her time besides naked flesh, that much was certain.

ooc: Feel free to change things. I may have become to overzealous in my hurry. :) Also insert where ever. Try to limit your actions a bit to where I have the '?'. Nemesis is faster than the other two, so feel free to put in an extra action if wanted or needed.

Tall Gaunt Guy is entangled (3def/2body)

Nemesis OOC:

OOC: