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THE BRINGERS OF DEATH
Once more, Enok slept fitfully. Haunted by the images of
those he had killed. His desire for human blood had led him to take the lives of many innocent humans. Each victim, staring
at the domed head, pointed ears, sharp teeth and into those piercing eyes went with him to his dreams and each victim cowered
before being struck and brutally murdered.
Enok woke up suddenly and sat upright. His eyes glanced
around the room. He was in the boarding house in Bradfield. Putting his head in his hands, he shook, the nightmares receding.
His father, the alien Doomlord, had said that he would continue to experience such nights. His father had, however, been able
to teach him some Noxian meditation techniques. Practised before sleep or when his desires for blood were great, they would
help his mind to stay objective. Alone in his room, Enok got up and went to sit cross-legged on the bedroom floor, concentrating,
hoping to find solace in the discipline his father had taught him.
The next morning, Mrs. Souster had just finished clearing
away after breakfast when she spoke to Doomlord, who had been listening to the news on the radio. “I’m worried
about Mike. He hardly said a word over breakfast and now he’s gone straight back up to his room. I don’t like
to impose on you Mr. Plumrose, but could you have a word with him? He may talk to you as you both get on so well.” The
landlady had been hypnotised by Doomlord`s energiser ring to see Enok as her son Mike and Doomlord as commercial traveller
Eric Plumrose. “Of course I will, Mrs. Souster,” said Doomlord, who had noticed that Enok had become distant.
Even his father’s help hadn’t stopped the deep-rooted desire within Enok to taste human blood. In his bedroom,
he fought a battle inside that he felt increasingly unable to win. Doomlord knocked on the door and Enok got up and let him
in. “Both Mrs. Souster and I are worried by the increasing amount of time that you spend alone in your room. Your affliction?”
asked Doomlord.
Enok nodded. “I have tried to follow your teachings,
but when I cease meditating I still want to kill!”
“We will face this problem together. You must accept
that there is a part of you that has this desire. Though serious, the problem is not insurmountable. Above all, you must want
to resist the temptation within you. If you do not, the cycle of death will continue. We will leave the house for the morning
and walk through the park. It is a fine day and we will have the opportunity to talk further.” Enok was not enthusiastic,
but solitude had failed to help.
The bright sun and a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves
on the trees had made for a calming environment as Doomlord and Enok, both in their human identities, strolled leisurely through
Bradfield park. “We must find more constructive ways for you to spend your time if you are to remain in control of your
actions. Your mind must be occupied with matters that will divert your energy into positive results,” said Doomlord.
“That is all well and good, but when I am alone the
desires to hunt and kill return. I sometimes wish that Mike Souster had not drank my blood and allowed me to live again. I
should have remained dead! How can I undo what I did over the course of those years when I was alone? All those humans I killed.
I grew to enjoy the killing.”
“I too have killed innocent humans.”
“Yes, but you never killed for killing’s sake!”
“Further recrimination is pointless. The fact is that
you now wish to renounce your previous practises and together we will devise strategies to achieve this.”
Enok, wanting to believe his father, was still far from
convinced but felt more at ease as they began walking home.
The maximum security prison in London
had recently become home to a leading member of the criminal organisation known as the Cartel. Robert Manning had been the
financial mastermind that had attempted to control the entire world, first using subversive methods but latterly by releasing
a gas into the Earth’s atmosphere that would render mankind docile. Doomlord had thwarted his plan and, as a result,
he had been arrested.
Even though he was incarcerated, Manning still held substantial
monetary assets not seized by the authorities on his arrest, allowing him considerable freedom inside the prison regime. He
sat on a bench in the prison garden as his solicitor joined him. Not a man for pleasantries, he sighed impatiently as the
man in the pin-stripe suit opened his briefcase. “Well?”
“The armourer believes that he has successfully developed
ammunition that will do the job.”
“Believes?” snapped Manning.
“The only way he’ll know for sure is if someone
can get within range to fire at Doomlord.”
“You’ve
spoken to Colonel Harman?”
“Not directly. I’m due to meet with him later
today. I have to be cautious; we don’t want anyone becoming suspicious.”
“Listen, it’s because of Doomlord that I’m
in here. I want him dead, understand?”
The solicitor closed his briefcase and rose from the bench.
“I’ll come back tomorrow morning at the same time. By then I hope to have Colonel Harman on board.”
As the solicitor walked away, Manning stared at his back.
It was alright for him, he thought, he wasn’t stuck in prison for the rest of his life.
Robert Manning’s solicitor alighted from the taxi
outside the exclusive gentlemen’s` club in London and
went up the steps and into the foyer. The steward on the desk smiled politely. “Good afternoon sir. Your guest is waiting
in the lounge.” At that time of day only a few ex-military men were making use of the facilities. The solicitor, dressed
in an immaculate pin-stripe suit, could only see an arm protruding from the back of the leather arm-chair. “Come in
and soak up the atmosphere”, quipped the voice of the man as he looked round to see who had entered the room. The solicitor
took the arm-chair opposite to the man who had spoken and cast an eye of appraisal over the broad man in his fifties, who
was scarred down the left side of his face. First impressions were that Colonel Harman was as tough as his reputation suggested.
“I `m taking a risk meeting you here”, said the solicitor, “I hope that you can deliver on your contract!”
“Don’t talk to me about taking risks”,
said the mercenary mirthlessly, “I’m not even supposed to be in the country. Let’s not waste time, my men
and I have been on the move for thirty-six hours and for most of that time we’ve been behind a stack of crates in a
lorry. Do you have the money?”
“Yes. Half is to be paid tomorrow at the farmhouse
and the other when Doomlord and his son are proven to be dead!”
A cold desert wind whistled across the exposed Nevada highway as the police jeep sped along. Deputy Wheatley increased
the pressure on the accelerator pedal. He cursed the sheriff for sending him out of town to the old Elwood place on a night
like this. That woman was always seeing things. U.F.O`s! Next week it`d be a prowler.
So fleeting were the strange lights above that he almost
missed them as they fell to earth. It couldn’t be! He slowed down, executing a u-turn at speed and drove back to where
he thought the lights had landed.
Deputy Wheatley turned off the engine and got out of the
jeep, taking a torch with him. All of a sudden he wished that he had ignored the lights, and thought of his nice warm office
in town. Walking along the roadside, he scanned the area with the torch-beam but couldn’t see anything. Whatever it
had been, it wasn’t there now. Using his torch to find his way back to the jeep, a shiver ran down his back. Initially,
he thought his own footsteps were producing an echo. Then it dawned on him: he wasn’t alone! Walking more quickly, he
stopped and turned on his heel to confront his pursuer. For an instant, the torchlight illuminated the figure-that face!
The highway was silent save for the howling wind blowing
gusts of sand across the tarmac as the Noxian`s features seemed to melt and flow until he had become the exact double of the
luckless deputy.
Boarding the jeep, the alien turned the key in the ignition
and the radio came on. “At a meeting of the U.N. security council earlier today, it was decided by unanimous vote that
the satellite defence system will be activated in two days. The satellites are part of the Earth Space Defence System, designed
to protect the planet from alien attack.” The human face looked into the rear-view mirror and smiled. His arrival on
Earth at this time was no co-incidence.
In Bradfield, Doomlord had just finished watching the news,
and was encouraged to hear that the humans had co-operated so successfully on the space defence project, a task which had
received input from him in its early stages. With the satellites working in unison, any alien vessel could be detected and
weapons deployed if necessary.
Sitting back in his arm-chair, a pulse from his energiser
ring interrupted his thoughts. It couldn’t be…but it was. The Overlords of Nox were communicating with him. Doomlord
raised his ring to his face and, for the first time in many years, his former masters spoke to him. “Vek, acknowledge
this transmission..,” said the unnatural voice.
“This is Vek. What is the purpose of this communication?”
“So, you do live, and showing the same lack of respect.”
“It is you who wished we should speak.”
“The Dread Council believes that a renegade servitor,
Kron, has made his way to Earth after escaping detention on No. It is the will of the Dread Council that he be killed.”
“What are his crimes?”
“He has broken from the servitors` code and seeks
only power and wealth. He will be a serious threat to the existence of the planet Earth.”
“Why do you care about the fate of the Earth?”
asked Doomlord suspiciously.
“Humanity as a species is of no concern to us, but
the equilibrium in that solar-system must not be upset. If Kron is not stopped, the Earth will only be the beginning!”
The ring ceased pulsating, and Doomlord was left to think.
Kron, in his human guise of Deputy Wheatley, was seated
in the reception of the opulent office block in Nevada.
He rose to greet the well-dressed woman in her thirties as she offered her hand. “Good morning deputy. I’m Laurie
Peterson, Mr. Devon’s personal assistant. We can go up to my office.” Kron followed her into the lift and the
operator pushed the button for the top floor.
Leaving the lift, they walked on the solid wooden floor
to a door at the end of the corridor. Once inside the office, the woman closed the door. “Please, take a seat and you
can tell me what it is that you wanted to see Mr. Devon about.”
“It’s quite simple..,” said Kron reverting
back to his true form, “I wish to take his identity!”
The farmhouse in the north of England showed no signs of being inhabited. It was run-down and being so remote
rarely got any visitors. This made it the perfect base of operations for Colonel Harman and his mercenaries. The force, comprising
of five ex-special forces personnel, sat in the parlour, their attention focussed on their leader, who stood in front of a
board showing a plan of Mrs. Souster`s boarding house. “The armourer states
that this ammo will fire from any nine millimetre weapon. It’ll cut Doomlord in half at close range!”
The men clipped the magazines into their machine-guns. “Right,
you all know what to do. Lee, go and bring the van round.”
Harman was ill at ease as the driver went to the barn to
collect the transit van. Manning was paying a fortune to have Doomlord killed, but the money would be useless if the ammunition
wasn`t powerful enough. A former officer in the parachute regiment, he put this doubt out of his mind and focussed on the
job in hand.
Doomlord had told Enok of the communication he had received
from the unnatural world of his origin. Not knowing Kron`s location or his immediate intentions, Doomlord had decided to converse
with his fellow Noxian. As Enok looked on, Doomlord, seated in the lounge, raised his energiser ring to his lips, a strange
light illuminating his face. “Servitor Kron, this is Vek, protector of mankind." Are you receiving this communication?”
Doomlord waited for several moments, and then came the reply:
“Vek! I should have known that the Overlords would have informed you of my arrival on Earth. I am amazed that you still
continue to protect this pathetic race. They are in need of true leadership and purpose. Their current path will lead to their
own destruction!”
“The Earth must be allowed to pursue its own destiny
Kron,” replied Doomlord
“Come Vek, we on Nox were well aware that you have
constantly interfered in events that have shaped the future of the planet. With a powerful leader, the Earth will be saved!”
“As an inhabitant of the planet Earth, I assist in
times of crisis and act for the greater good. I will not allow mankind to become your subjects!”
“Let us not be enemies Vek. The galaxy is vast, and
you have languished here for so long. Together we can achieve greatness!”
“Kron, if you do not take your leave I will be forced
to act against you.”
“You are too late Vek, in one more day I will have
the Earth under my control, and there is nothing you can do…” Kron ceased transmission, but from it, Doomlord
would be able to determine his location.
Mrs. Souster was busy making lunch when the doorbell rang.
She stopped slicing the tomato and wiped her hands before going to see who it was.
“Good afternoon,” said the middle-aged man with
the scarred face. Without warning, the man pushed her aside, causing her to hit her head on the wall. The landlady lay unconscious
as Colonel Harman and one of his men pulled machine-guns from under their raincoats. Doomlord and Enok, alerted by the noise,
ran onto the landing. Colonel Harman was half-way up the stairs as Doomlord showed himself at the top. Without hesitation,
Harman opened fire, the bullets catapulting Doomlord backwards.
Enok leapt to one side, taking cover inside his bedroom.
Harman and the other mercenary moved cautiously up the remaining stairs, their weapons at the ready. Enok ran from the bedroom
as Harman set foot on the landing and jumped at him, knocking him off balance. Harman loosed of a volley of bullets as he
tumbled back, both mercenaries falling down the stairs. Harman’s other men had entered the boarding house by the back
door, and arrived in time to see Harman and the other man land in a heap. Being professionals, the men recovered quickly from
the shock and swiftly ascended the stairs. They saw Doomlord lying against the wall before they saw Enok, now wearing his
father’s energiser ring. “Energiser to disintegrate!” said Enok, as the ring’s eerie glow engulfed
the men, and made them disappear.
Downstairs, Colonel Harman had recovered consciousness.
He opened the door, reached down, hoisted the other man onto his shoulders and stared up the path. Enok had gone to his father,
but Doomlord waved him away. “Stop them..,” he said weakly. Enok didn’t hesitate, quickly racing down the
stairs, out the front door and up the path. Enok struck Colonel Harman before he could turn and fire his gun. Harman fell,
dropping the other man as he did so.
Standing over the humans, Enok narrowly missed being hit
by a burst of machine-gun fire from across the street. Colonel Harman’s driver had seen the mercenaries leave the boarding
house and had decided to give them covering fire. Enok stayed low behind the garden wall and watched Harman, still dazed,
stagger over to the transit van, which then careered up the road, its tyres screeching.
Enok, on his feet once more, heard the moan coming from
the man on the path. The mercenary cursed as he rolled over and sat up. Enok raised his arm and the hypnotic light from the
energiser ring shone into his eyes. From the man, Enok learned of Manning’s plot for revenge. He would pay later, but
for now, Enok was more concerned about his father and Mrs. Souster.
The office door swung open and the computer magnate looked
up to see the angry physicist march in. “What on Earth do you think you’re doing John?” he shouted. “Really
Gerry,” said the slightly-built man in his forties, “if you have a problem with my instructions I’m sure
that we can work through it in a more adult fashion!” said John Devon, looking towards the door where his P.A. stood.
“John, if we go ahead with those modifications to
the command circuits you’ll be in control of the entire system!” protested the technician.
Kron`s energiser
ring shone it’s eerie glow, mesmerising the technician. “You will assemble the project staff for a meeting in
one hour. The modifications I have outlined will be completed before shipment to Cape Canaveral!”
The pulsating light from the ring ceased, and the man stood up and left the room to arrange the meeting.
Enok had moved Doomlord to his bedroom. Carefully, he localised
the beam from the energiser ring to cauterize his father’s wounds. Doomlord grimaced through the pain, and spoke quickly
to his son when Enok had finished. “I have pin-pointed the location of Kron`s transmission. He is in the American state
of Nevada. I believe that he intends to gain control of
the United Nations` space defence satellites…You must stop him from doing so…Curse these wounds!” he said,
passing out.
Mrs. Souster, who was none the worse for her encounter with
the mercenaries, came to the door. “You mustn’t stop here Mum,” said Enok, “it isn’t safe. Is
there somewhere that you and Mr. Plumrose can go?”
“Why did the policemen go and leave us? I don’t
understand what’s going on.”
Enok had used his energiser ring to hypnotise the police
officers who had responded to the reports of gunfire, but he knew others would come. He held Mrs. Souster and looked her in
the eye. “Mum, you have to trust me. Those men that forced their way in may come back and there is something that I
have to go and deal with. I need to know that you are both safe while I’m gone.”
The landlady shook her head, unable to comprehend what her
son meant. “Scarborough’s having some nice weather,” she said, smiling.
Enok hugged the woman that he thought of as his mother.
The curtain in the window of the secluded farmhouse twitched
as the Mercedes Benz car pulled into the courtyard. The man in the pin-stripe suit got out and walked up the path. The front
door was ajar, so, cautiously, he stepped inside. Colonel Harman stood facing him, a pistol in his hand. Before the solicitor
could react, a pistol was thrust between his shoulder blades and a second man frisked him. Finding that the solicitor wasn’t
carrying a gun, the man behind pushed him. “Come and sit in the parlour,” said Harman sombrely.
The solicitor sat in an old arm-chair while Harman limped
to one opposite. The second mercenary stood at the parlour door. “You failed!” said the solicitor through gritted
teeth.
“We’ll get them!” said the mercenary coldly,
“I always finish a job, and this one’s become personal; he killed my men.”
“Doomlord is no fool; if you try again he’ll
kill you!”
“That’s our problem. Just make sure the money’s
ready!”
Safe in the knowledge that his father and Mrs. Souster were
leaving the boarding house, Enok was able to concentrate on infiltrating the company that had won the contract to design and
build the United Nations` space defence system.
Having materialised near a rocky outcrop overlooking the
quiet highway in Nevada, Enok studied the Devon Technological
Institute, searching for a way to gain entry. An opportunity quickly presented itself in the form of a car turned in at the
main gate. Wasting no time, Enok aimed the beam of his energiser ring and obliterated the security camera covering the entrance,
before adjusting the ring to allow him to teleport in front of the car.
The occupant of the car, a scientist, was astonished, while
the guard reached for his gun. The guard hadn’t time to fire though, as Enok struck him heavily, sending him crashing
into the gatehouse. The scientist had started his car and was attempting to reverse the vehicle when he noticed that the front
end was being lifted from the ground. The rear tyres skidded and screeched, but there was no escape. The scientist stopped
the engine and Enok dropped the front of the car. The man scrambled out to be met by Enok`s huge fist which connected with
his jaw.
The highway was deserted as Enok dragged the two unconscious
men into the gatehouse. As he stripped the scientist, the intercom burst into life. “Harry, are you reading me?”
crackled the voice, “we’re not receiving a signal from the camera on the main gate…” With no alternative,
Enok spoke into the microphone: “Everything’s okay here.”
“We’ll send a guy down to have a look at it,”
said the voice at the other end. Relieved, Enok dressed in the scientist’s clothes and, folding his arm across his chest,
his features warped until he had become an exact duplicate of the scientist.
After binding the two humans, Enok pushed the button in
the gatehouse and the electric gate opened, allowing him to drive up to the main reception. The girl on the desk smiled at
him “Good morning Doctor Grant.” Enok looked above the girl at the sign which showed the way to the managing director’s
office. He went along the corridor and came to the door with John Devon’s name on it. He felt a growing sense of foreboding
as he knocked on the door; it had been too easy to get inside. “Enter,” said the person behind the door. Enok
walked in to be met by Kron in his true form. “Come in `Doctor Grant`.” Enok was still reeling from the shock
when he was struck on the head from behind.
Doomlord lay on the bed in the hotel room. He had needed
to rest after being teleported to Scarborough. Maintaining human form in his current state
of health had required what little energy he had. Looking at his watch, he found that he had been resting for two hours, the
sun shining through the window invigorating him. Sitting upright, he gingerly put his feet on the floor. The pain was still
severe when he tried to walk. Doomlord was about to sit back on the bed when there was a knock on the door. Before answering,
he assumed his human identity. Mrs. Souster had been put for a walk along the promenade. “Hello Mr. Plumrose, that sea
air certainly helps you work up an appetite. You still look ever so pale. I’m not sure we should have come with you
like this.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
“I’m so worried about Mike. What can he do that
the police can’t?”
“Have faith in Mike, he is a most resourceful young
man.”
Shaking her head, Mrs. Souster left to change for her evening
meal. Doomlord stood at his window overlooking a calm North Sea wishing that he could be
with Enok, who he knew was facing a most dangerous enemy.
When Enok regained consciousness he found himself in what
appeared to be a damp and ill-lit basement. He was sitting on a wooden chair, his wrists and ankles secured by metal chains
that he couldn’t break. From the shadows Kron spoke: “I’m pleased that the guard didn’t hit you too
hard. I would have missed the chance to meet you, the halfling spawn of that sentimental fool Vek. Really though, I expected
him to come. Maybe he is a coward. Imagine, sending you to do his dirty work!”
“My father is not a coward!” shouted Enok.
“You must be wondering how I knew that you had gained
access to this building. The latest generation of energiser rings enable the wearer to detect other Noxians in proximity and
deceive primitive surveillance technology. And you were so careful to disintegrate the camera at the gate. But enough of this,
I want to know where your father is…” Kron moved to stand in front of Enok and raised his right hand. Enok struggled
as the hypnotic light shone into his eyes, trying to focus his mind on blocking out the powerful influence of the energiser
ring.
As the minutes passed, Kron began to lose his patience.
“You are strong willed, but your father is all that stands between me and my conquest of this planet! You will tell
me his whereabouts!”
Despite Enok`s resistance, the ring’s power was too
great. Eventually, he told Kron that his injured father was leaving the boarding house in Bradfield to take refuge by the
coast until his wounds were healed. The hypnotic beam ceased, and Enok`s head fell forward. Kron was delighted by this news,
which gave him the confidence to take control of the satellite defence system before ridding himself of his two enemies.
Kron assumed the identity of John Devon and returned upstairs
to be met by his personal assistant. “General Wagner is waiting for you sir.”
The senior military staff officer rose from the arm-chair
as Kron entered the room and shook him by the hand. “Well general, this is a most pleasant surprise.”
“The pleasure is all mine Mr. Devon. It’s because
of your company’s work on this project that the Earth will soon be safe from alien attack. I’ve come to extend
you the invitation of attending the launch of the satellite from Cape Canaveral tomorrow.”
“I would be delighted General.”
Below in the basement, Enok could barely manage to open
his eyes. His head pounded and his wrists were wet with blood where he had struggled against his bonds. Through his pain he
knew that somehow he must free himself and stop Kron. As he continued to fight against the chains around his wrists, Enok
was certain that he heard a noise at the other end of the dark basement, the sound of tiny feet scampering on the concrete
floor. He stopped still, listening hard. Hearing the noise again, Enok began to hope.
For several hours Enok could hear the rat moving about,
sometimes coming quite close before scurrying away. It appeared that the rat was both wary and curious. Enok remained still
and, as he thought that the rat wouldn’t venture any nearer to him, the inquisitive rodent scampered up to his feet.
Enok could feel the rat against his shoes and knew that he would be able to reach the floor. With a single swift movement,
he thrust out his hands and caught the squirming rat.
The rat died as it’s life-force was drained into Enok,
who then concentrated until he started to shrink, metamorphosising into the shape of the small creature.
Enok scurried through the hole in the wall that the rat
had come from. The storage room was in darkness, but a light showed under the door. Again Enok concentrated, and he slowly
grew in size, reverting to his true form. He listened at the door, and not hearing anyone approaching, pulled the handle off
the door and walked out. The corridor had a door at the end that indicated a flight of stairs.
Enok emerged onto the ground floor to see a startled scientist.
Enok strode through the building until he was outside John Devon’s office and there, was confronted by his personal
assistant. “Doomlord, this is a private building and I must ask you to leave!”
Despite her protests, Enok burst into Devon’s
office only to find that Kron wasn’t there. He turned on the woman. “Where is he?” Such was the authority
in Enok`s voice that the woman answered: “Mr. Devon has left for Florida. He’s attending the satellite launch
at Cape Canaveral.” Enok went over to John Devon’s desk and retrieved his energiser
ring.
Kron, in his human guise of John Devon, was enjoying a guided
tour of Cape Canaveral until, to his astonishment; Enok appeared in the control room. “General,
you must delay the launching of the satellite defence system. It has been sabotaged, and that is not John Devon-he is an impostor!”
“Wait just a minute Doomlord,” said General
Wagner, “you can’t just expect me to delay the launch of fifty satellites. How would I explain that to the U.N.?
And the idea that Mr. Devon is an impostor is ridiculous.”
“Look at his ring General. See, it is similar to my
own!”
General Wagner looked at the strange ring on the hand of
the man standing next to him and then at Enok`s. “Doomlord does have a point Mr. Devon.”
Kron knew that the human was suspicious. His plan had failed,
but he could still escape. He seized General Wagner and held him round the neck. “If anyone moves, I will kill him!”
Enok wouldn’t take the risk using his energiser ring
to immobilise Kron in case the beam hit the general, and could only watch as Kron, with his prisoner, edged backwards towards
the swing doors leading out of the control room. On reaching the doors, Kron shoved the air force officer away and ran down
the corridor. A technician in the control room raised the alarm as Enok gave chase. Kron fired a bolt of energy from his energiser
ring, but, because he was running, his aim was inaccurate and it failed to hit Enok, instead creating a hole in a nearby wall.
Enok saw that Kron was shrinking as he ran and, within seconds, Kron had changed into an insect, making further pursuit almost
impossible.
Back in the control room, Enok explained to General Wagner
about Kron and his plan to control the space defence project, but his concern now was that Kron would seek revenge.
The pigeon landed in the back yard of Mrs. Souster`s boarding
house, having circled above for some time. The bird began to grow, metamorphosising into Kron. Stealthily, he checked the
door into the kitchen. It was locked, so he used his energiser ring to disintegrate the lock and entered. Not hearing any
movement, it seemed likely that Vek had left. If not, he would be lying injured upstairs.
Ascending the stairs, he heard a sound. Perhaps Vek had
not yet gone. Kron gently pushed the door of the room where the sound had come from, energiser ring poised. “I knew
you’d come back!” said Colonel Harman, before he emptied his machine gun’s magazine into the alien.
Enok had materialised in Scarborough after finding Kron`s
body at the boarding house. He had been correct in his assumption that Kron would want revenge, but had become a victim of
it himself.
It was a fine day as Doomlord, whose progress towards recovery
allowed him to walk short distances, Mrs. Souster and Enok walked along the promenade. “It was nice that you came to
see us Mike, I hope everything’s sorted out with the police,” said Mrs. Souster.
“I don’t think we’ll be bothered again.
Anyway, I wanted to see how Mr. Plumrose was.”
“I meant to tell you to `phone a locksmith, I wouldn’t
want anything like that happening again.”
“A good idea Mrs. Souster,” said Doomlord, his
human face smiling.
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