Boiling Point - part 1

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'5 stones of power untold

Bringers of darkness unto your realm

Rivers run red with enemies' blood

When in union our power sings clear

The 5 sisters of eternal sorrow

The heart of Shine, deliverer of Chaos' Final Destiny

For-'

"I trust this will be worth the time and effort it has taken..."

Demona looked up, startled. The gargoyle had been so engrossed in translating the arcane scroll that she had not even heard David Xanatos enter. Her eyes flashed red with her annoyance at the interruption, "Did you get it?" she asked, a little tersley.

Xanatos nodded and produced a huge ruby, about the size of a golf ball. The countless facets, rather than reflecting light like any such dazzling gem should, instead seemed to ensnare and absorb it into itself in an almost sinister yet captivating fashion.

"Fortunately, money is no object for me," observed the multi-billionaire, eyeing the four other similar-sized rubies which Demona had positioned at each point of a pentagram drawn on the cold stone floor.

"At last," murmured the gargoyle, eyes half closed in satisfaction "the spell can be woven."

"'And the caster will become imbued with the power to grant eternity to those whom they wish' as you said," quoted Xanatos, thinking that his goal of achieving longevity may finally be within his grasp. He looked at the scroll over Demona's shoulder. The weird sigils made no sense to him, but even as he looked they seemed to twist and writhe across the parchment, yet somehow they still remained in the same place. It made his head ache. "Doesn't that annoy you?" he inquired, wondering how Demona could stand it.

No. But you do though, human. she thought, becoming impatient at his continued presence. "Only the one who is chosen may read the scroll without being driven insane. And that one is me - I am the one who has dared bring together the Stones of Sorrow, when all others have failed," she said triumphantly as Xanatos positioned the final ruby in its place with the others.

He looked down at the gems. Undoubtably they were beautiful, exquisitely cut and each sharing the same rich, deep red - like blood. But despite this there was something evil about them and he found himself feeling deeply repulsed by them. He couldn't pinpoint exactly why - perhaps it was their history?...Although they had come from completely different parts of the world, each stone had a dark, bloody past strongly associated with battles, murders, rituals and other foul deeds. But frankly he didn't care - if what Demona had promised him was true, then eternal life was within his grasp and that was all that mattered.

"So, when will you activate them?" he asked.

Demona looked up from where she sat with various scrolls and arcane objects laid out before her, he saw a flash of impatience and annoyance in her eyes. "You will have to wait" she said, "Once the spell is done the Stones have to draw in energy. This will take some time and they must not be disturbed until they are ready."

"...that's why I gave you this chamber at the top of the tower."

"Yes. Now I suggest that you leave. The incantation is difficult and I must be alone to concentrate if it is to be spoken correctly...You don't want me to summon a demon by mistake now, do you?" Demona added this with an inward smile directed at the irony if her words. Xanatos didn't look too happy at being told what to do, but he left all the same. "Good riddance." she muttered as he shut the door behind him.

Foolish human, she thought, caressing the ancient scroll that was in fact human skin, not paper or leather. The runes were of blood which, if you were to look closely enough, pulsed as though still in living veins. And all humanity will pay for your greed... , the gargoyle smiled evilly as she began to recite the incantation.

Demona hadn't actually lied to Xanatos. She had just hadn't told him the whole truth. The Stones, once they had drawn in enough energy, would act as conduits for the power of a DemonQueen known as Shine, or the Sister of Chaos. The spell would allow her to absorb the demon's life-force into herself and become Shine's avatar. And with such near god-like power at her command, she would be able to wipe the worthless race known as humanity from the face of the planet at her whim!

As Demona finished the spell the rubies began to pulse with a very faint but malevolent inner light and the cool room seemed to warm up fractionally. Her work done, she left and sealed the chamber after her with a more simple spell in Latin that only she could lift before gliding off into the chilly February night.

* * *

Five months later...

The city of New York lay smothered in the stifling ebony blanket of the moonless late summer night. Even at this hour few people wished to brave the intense heat but, had anyone chosen to look up into the sky just before sunrise, they would have seen the blackness begin to coalesce into something much darker...

Far above the city, the dragon materialized. There was no thunder or lightening, or spectacular flash of magic that should have accompanied the arrival of a creature such as this. Instead it was simply a case of a previously empty patch of sky being suddenly filled with a 600ft long black dragon. In fact, the only herald to the monster's arrival was a simple PKE meter, but even this didn't bare witness for long as the huge surge of magical energy caused it to overload, literally frying its circuit boards.

Syrax Bloodbane closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He had made the journey across the nothingness between worlds and realities in one piece once more and he could only hope that his diminutive companion, Garth, had arrived here safely too. The dragon would have searched for his friend, but the strain of fighting against his curse in order to maintain this, his true form, coupled with the huge amount of magical power needed to open a gateway through limbo and the fact that he hadn't eaten in days meant that the dragon was too weak and exhausted.

Syrax reopened his eyes and exhaled, tongues of green acidfire flickering about the wickedly sharp fangs and incisors which jutted forward from the fronts of both jaws.

Catching a strong scent of water, Bloodbane found his eyes resting on the Brooklyn docks. He was losing altitude fast and his tired wing muscles wouldn't respond in order to take him higher - he had to find somewhere to make a crash landing. Fast. With a slight readjustment of his wings he steered his massive frame towards the docks.

Bloodbane glanced down at Manhattan as it passed beneath in a blur. No matter which reality I'm in, this town never seems to change, he thought It's still just as corrupt, stinking and polluted as always...My kind of town! Despite having reformed from his evil alignment centuries ago, he could never change his tastes and preferences. He snorted in amusement as a skyscraper with a castle on top flashed by above him...not just because it reminded him of a younger more arrogant Syrax who would have happily razed it to the ground to plunder the goods within without a second thought for the consequences, but simply because humans had such strange tastes. That was part of the reason why the dragon was so fascinated with the species. Must've cost a bomb!

Aware of the fast approaching ground, he turned his attention back to the job in hand (namely landing with the minimum amount of personal injury). He tipped his wings back so that they acted more like sails than aerofoils, marginally slowing his descent as he tried to work out the best angle to hit the water. But even as he carried out this manouver, the dragon felt a jarring shudder run through his body. His time was up and he could fight against his curse no longer.

The wyrm released a bloodcurdling bellow, not just of pain as the demonic energies coursed through him once more, but also in anger as the all-too-brief taste of the absolute power that had once been his to wield when he pleased was taken away yet again. It felt as though white hot fire was running through his veins as the curse took hold.

Even as he hit the water, he had already shrunk to half his original size and was getting smaller by the second. But this drastic reduction in size wasn't enough to save a small yaught and the jetty to which it had been moored from being reduced to mere driftwood as the dragon plunged through the pre-dawn mist and smashed into them.

Although a natural swimmer, the blow had stunned Syrax and he momentarily sank beneath the murky waters of the East River, leaving only a few bubbles and some wreckage bobbing on the surface in his wake. The creature that came back to the surface gasping for air was a far cry from the dragon that had crashed there moments before.

Coughing and spluttering, Syrax splashed his way over to the quayside. Cursing like an angry druid all the way, hauled himself up a rusting iron ladder and stumbled away from the edge of the dock. The cursed dragon looked down at his reflection in the growing puddle of river water at his feet. It was an image he had gotten used to...

Apart from the bony plate armour running down his back, the dragon's ebon scales had been replaced by lightish grey fur and a black mane of fur about his head and neck. His face, which lay somewhere between being canine and draconic was, on the other hand, furless and flesh coloured. As far as shape was concerned - ignoring the black leathery tail, batlike wings and various obsidian spikes, claws and horns - Syrax was basically humanoid standing at 6'3", although his chest was deeper than a normal human's to accommodate the powerful flight muscles.

"So once again Bloodbane's gone and only Blackjack remains" he breathed, voice tainted with open hatred at the helplessness of his situation. Granted this form had its uses and he had slowly grown accustomed to being forced to remain so, but the situation was not in his control - an unnatural state of affairs for Syrax's scheming nature.

Blackjack closed his unique eyes for a second - along with the vicious triple scar across the right side of his face that cut the snout down through his upper lip and a long scar down his right side, they were the only other feature to remain constant through the shape-shift, the left was red whilst the other was completely blue and still retained the ability to ensnare someone's very soul, were they fool enough to gaze into their limitless depths.

He had been drawn to this world by the growing presence of the DemonQueen Shine, looking for revenge for her cursing him to this shape and also, just maybe, because reason he felt a calling to save this world and the innocent lives upon it from her damnation - guilt for a less than perfect past perhaps?

Considering this as he attempted to wring out the edges of his tattered red denim waistcoat Blackjack froze when he heard raised human voices nearby. Glancing round at the destruction he'd caused I still haven't lost my knack, he realised that this was probably not the best of places to remain if he wanted to avoid this world's general populace.

Normally, he could just rely on his appearance to terrify off most people. But should it come to a fight, he could easily beat most humans - not just because he was stronger, faster and had the help of a tail and numerous unpleasant spikes and retractable spines - but simply because he cheated, would pull every trick in the book if his opponents were dumb enough to fall for them and firmly believed in kicking a man when he was down (safest time to do it!). But at the moment he was too weak from exhaustion and lack of sustenance and was too tired to even fly, let alone fight.

Still hidden by the now thinning mist the dragon dragged himself over to a point on the harbour wall where there was a large storm drain outlet he had seen from the water. He climbed down the side of the wall and into the drain where he slumped down in a heap, deciding that the only thing to do now would be to try and get some rest in the oppressive hot and sticky dampness.

As he drifted out of awareness Blackjack couldn't help but wonder how the heck he would find the source of Shine's power here in Manhattan. And even if he did, would it already be too late to save this Earth?...

* * *

Roland turned the TV off as the weatherman all-too-cheerfully announced that today would be yet another 128degree scorcher with still no end in sight to this inexplicably hot and long lasting weather system. The sound of a digitised explosion closely followed be Eduardo's hot and bothered sounding voice filled the room.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?"

"Do what?" asked Garrett, sounding a little too innocent.

Eduardo lent round the monitor of Egon's spare PC to glare accusingly at Garrett who was sitting calmly opposite him behind his laptop. The two computers were hooked up in a joint game of Quake. "You blew me up, Again. I thought this was meant to be a corporative game, not a deathmatch"

"That's cooperative,"

" - Whatever -"

"Besides, I can't help it if you're dumb enough to run in the way of my rocket launcher."

"No I never. You did that deliberately you-"

"Can't you two find something a little more constructive to do?" interrupted Kylie from where she sat in the comfy armchair behind the sofa, her study of a book on demonology disturbed by their constant bickering.

"Like what? Just sit around and do nothing for another three weeks until we get a call?" grouched Eduardo. He reached out beside him, groping for the bowl of Pringles that had been there a second ago and put his hand straight into an incriminating puddle of green slime. "EEW gross! You'd better stay out of my sight, Slimeball!" he shouted, not really caring whether their resident ghost could actually hear him or not. The heat and recent lack of activity was fraying everybody's nerves and having a yell felt good. The fact that the AC had broken down wasn't helping.

"After all, as the major butt-kickers of this outfit we have to keep our skills sharp now, don't we?" said Garrett, continuing with the original topic and casting a sidelong glance at his hispanic friend, "And for once Eddie's right; we haven't seen any action in weeks."

"And that gives me cause for concern," said Egon, fiddling with a busted PKE meter as he came down from the lab. He showed it to Kylie and Roland who peered at it in interest.

"What happened to that?" asked Roland in surprise, seeing the molten mess of solder and wires inside.

"Yeah, looks as bad as something Ed might cook," added Garrett.

"Hey man, shut up. All you do round here is the eating!"

"And all you do is the snoring,"

Ignoring the increasingly heated exchange going on at the table, Kylie picked up on the importance of Egon's statement. "But I thought you said most paranormal activity decreased in the summertime anyway"

"Yes, but never resulting in an almost complete deficit of ecto-ethereal activity" replied the tall physicist, pushing his glasses back up his nose as they attempted to slide down again, "But what worries me is that instead of there being a corresponding fall in the levels of ambient PKE activity, over the past five months there has been a steady increase instead."

"He means there should be more ghosts, only there aren't," said Roland to Eduardo (who was now purposfully ignoring Garrett and had gone over to sit on the couch), trying to be helpful.

"Yeah I got that, I'm not that stupid," he replied irritably, quietly wiping the slime off his hand onto a nearby cushion.

Suddenly the alarm went off, making everyone jump, and Janine's voice came in over the intercom, "Heads up boys and girls, we've got one over on the Lower East Side. I'll fill you in on the way."

Garrett clapped his hands together in barely concealed delight at the sound of the long-awaited call, "Man! that is music to my ears!"

* * *

"And that's it?! This is what we dragged ourselves across Manhattan in 120 degree heat - and rising - for?" Garrett lowered his particle thrower in disappointment and looked almost set to sulk.

He was referring to the 'fire-breathing rampaging monster' which was half sat, half coiled in front of them, chewing on a donut with a 'what are you looking at?' expression on its face. It had turned out to be a three foot long, relatively inoffensive-looking red dragon which didn't appear to be doing that much rampaging. Unless you included the mess made by the shopkeeper's own panic under that definition.

Kylie waved her PKE meter at it, "It's not ecto-ethereal. It's alive but I'm picking up residual readings similar to those Egon showed us from last night."

"This blew up that thing?" Eduardo asked in surprise. He didn't believe that was possible, but he still changed his mind about stowing his blaster.

"Aw, how could it? I think it..." the little dragon was gazing up at Roland with big, doleful eyes. As he met the creature's gaze, something made him amend what he'd just said to "...he...I think he's lost."

"I'll say. What's a dragon doing in New York?" muttered Eduardo.

"That's easy," joked Garrett, " he's here for the sights, sounds and-" Kylie interrupted him.

"Be carful Roland - it could be dangerous," she warned as the big ghostbuster reached down and scratched the creature's eyeridge. But it gave no untoward reaction. In fact he leaned into his hand, enjoying the attention, almost like a very weird-looking cat.

"What's your name then?" he cooed. The dragon made a croaking noise that sounded a lot like 'Garth'. Then he suddenly ran up Roland's arm and draped himself across his shoulders.

"I think he likes you," commented Kylie with a slight smile, "We should get him back to Egon to see what he makes of it."

"I thought you were meant to bust them, not adopt them," ranted the shopkeeper, "What about the damages?!"

"Don't worry, we'll knock fifty cents off your call-out charge for that donut," replied Garrett.

Garth looked up hopefully at the mention of food. "Wonderful. Another eating machine, that's all we need." groaned Eduardo as he finally stowed his blaster and followed the others back out to the Ecto-1.

* * *

As the converted hearse pulled into the firehouse Janine was standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for them. "I wouldn't bother settling down yet if I were you, we've just got another call."

"Another one? In this heat?"

"Quit whining Eddie, or would you prefer to spend another day here with Slimer melting all over you?" As if to help illustrate Garrett's point, a big blob of green ectoplasm landed with a splat on the windscreen as Slimer drifted overhead. Even their resident ghost was being affected by the heat, his ectoplasm taking on a less viscous consistantcy.

"So what is it?" asked Roland.

"Down at Brooklyn docks. The harbour master wants us to check out a boat and a jetty that were destroyed last night."

"What do we look like, insurance inspectors?" Garrett didn't fancy going out in the furnace-like heat again, especially when the description of the call didn't exactly sound synonymous with the word 'action'.

Janine continued, "He says one of the workers on the night shift claims to have seen a gargoyle soon after the incident happened."

"A Gargoyle?" this caught Kylie's attention, "I was reading a report in the paper about them this morning."

"That's not all" replied the Ghostbusters' secretary, "he also said that a giant dragon crash...What's that?" she asked in surprise.

Garth had been dozing quietly in the back of the vehicle next to Garrett but when he heard the mention of his species, he had suddenly jumped up onto the seat back.

"This is Garth, he's a dragon." said Roland helpfully, stating the obvious there.

"So I see." Janine had seen enough in her unusual, and oft times downright weird, job to make her not stay surprised for long in the face of the strange and bizarre. "Do you think he's got anything to do with this other one?"

"Almost certainly." confirmed Kylie. Handling him as though he were her cat, Pagan, she picked the dragon up and handed him through the window to Janine.

"I just hope you're housebroken." she sighed, remembering all the trouble they'd had with Slimer in the early days, as Ecto-1 pulled away. She was a bit taken aback when the dragon snorted indignantly at this comment.

* * *

"I don't know why Chavez sent us down here." complained Bluestone, fanning himself with his notebook, "All we've got is a pile of driftwood and no witnesses. At least, none that count."

"We're cops Matt, this is our job remember?"

"Yeah, but this doesn't exactly need detectives." replied Elisa Maza's partner as he gestured at the splintered jetty and pleasure boat, although they were quite difficult to see through the heat haze generated by the merciless hot sun. "Unless she sent us here because of that reported gargoyle sighting."

Elisa visibly stiffened at the mention of that, fortunately Matt was looking the wrong way so he didn't see her perturbed expression. I thought I was the only one to know about that she thought, slightly worried. Of course, that was the reason why she had asked Chavez specifically for this assignment but, unfortunately, had ended up having to lump her partner along too. "And I suppose the other suspects include a giant alligator that crawled up from the sewer just to chomp up that boat." She was careful to keep her expression unreadable as she 'dismissed' Matt's speculations with forced cynicism. "Let's try looking for a real perp. here shall we? What do we know about the boat's owners?"

Bluestone shrugged "A Mr B Sanders. No criminal record, no nothing. Just a regular guy, I can't think of any motive or...What's up?" he realised Elisa, intent on something over to their right, was no longer listening to him. He followed her line of sight and saw the reason for her distraction: a heavily customised red and white hearse with an all too familiar 'no ghost' logo on the side.

"This is all we need." she groaned. The last thing Maza wanted was for the Ghostbusters to be on her gargoyle friends' cases. Although she didn't believe that Goliath's clan had anything at all to do with last night's incident.

"Maybe there was something in that gargoyle story after all..." commented Matt. But Elisa deliberately ignored him and strode off towards the teenagers as they disembarked from their unusual vehicle.

"Excuse me I'm Detective Maza, NYPD. This is official police business. May I ask what you're doing here?"

"If you ask me, giant dragons and gargoyles are our business." replied Garrett with his usual confidence.

"Let me handle this," Miller shrugged and rolled off, leaving Kylie to do the talking, "We're investigating a possible massive paranormal disturbance that may well be connected with the manifestations seen here last night and the damages done."

"It looks like sabotage or vandalism from where I stand," said Elisa, trying to divert the conversation away from the gargoyle aspect of the situation.

"Well in that case they must've used one heckuva sledgehammer," Eduardo illustrated his point by jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards the wreckage behind Kylie.

Matt also came over to join the conversation. Maza was obviously bothered about the Ghostbusters' presence - probably due to her opinion of them as being a 'mobile disaster zone', especially after the business with that rampaging machine that had escaped from their headquarters a few months ago - but he didn't think it would be particularly useful for her to have a confrontation with them, "Come on Elisa, let's go. We've done all we can out here and if we're quick we can get the reports filed before we go off shift."

For a moment it looked as though she would protest and stay to argue some more, but instead she relented and followed Bluestone reluctantly to the car, leaving the Ghostbusters with a stern warning not to remove any evidence.

Roland, who had been away from the exchange, called Garrett over to show him the PKE readings he'd obtained. "I'm picking up some residual readings like the ones we got off Garth, except these are several hundred times stronger..." he was a little worried by this, especially since these matched the valencies taken by Egon's PKE meter just before it blew up last night.

"You mean something big and ecto this way came?" asked Garrett, borrowing Kylie's phrase and perking up at the thought of such a challenge, Maybe there could be some real action here for a change he thought to himself delightedly.

"Yes, but there's no way of telling where it is now. For all I can tell it could still be here."

"Watching us?" asked Eduardo glancing about nervously. He found the thought of something powerful enough to reduce a reasonably sized boat and jetty to splinters listening in on their conversation more than a little unsettling.

"Doubtful." reassured the big Ghostbuster, his sensible voice calming his friend's fears, "It's probably long gone by now."

"It would be nice if we were too," interjected Garrett, "Unless you want us to dry up and blow away."

* * *

The sounds of the city drifted up from the street below. Cars revving engines, carousing drunks leaving a nightclub, raised voices.

From her perch on the corner of a high roof, Demona scowled down at the pitiful humanity below. Attempt after attempt to destroy them over the last few months had been laid to waste, including her plan to turn New York's entire populace to stone - it had almost worked too, had it not been for that...that - she tried to think of a word strong enough, but for the moment could not -...*fool* Goliath. In a flash of anger her claws tightened, crushing the stone beneath their grasp.

Still, she had one plan which no one on this earth could stop. Despite losing Xanatos's trust in the City of Stone incident, Demona knew she could still sneak in and gain access to the tower where she had cast the spell to summon Shine all those months ago. No one, save for her, would be able to access the top chamber so the casting would have remained undisturbed - this blistering heat, which even she was now beginning to be made uncomfortable by, stood testament to that fact - and the time to complete the spell and was so very near at hand. For so long she had dreamt of that moment and the glorious destruction she would bring in her long-awaited vengeance for what humans had done to her clan. Yes, the rime was close at hand indeed...

* * *

"This is the place." said Roland, winding down the window for a better look as he let Ecto-1 roll to a stop. The evening air, hot and dry, rolled in to contribute to the already stifling atmosphere in the vehicle. Garrett was the first out before they'd even stopped completely.

The derelict office block they had been called to loomed dark and imposing above them, silhouetted against the late-dusk sky.

"Nice neighbourhood." commented Garrett ironically, looking round at the run down warehouses surrounding them as he slipped his heavy proton pack on over his shoulders, the metal components chinking together as he moved.

"You really think so?" asked Roland. Garrett just sighed.

Once inside, Kylie turned on her PKE meter and swept her arm back and forth but the readings remained the same no matter which direction she pointed the device.

"Maybe that security guard had too much time with not enough to do," suggested Eduardo. The guard in question was the one who had called in an 'unusual creature' in the disused building before which they now stood.///////////

"He seemed pretty convinced about it," replied Kylie, "This place is too big for us to search together, we'll have to split up."

"Split up?! Don't you remember what happened the last time we did that?"

"Don't worry, pachuco, this thing can't be more than a Class Three if its not even showing any readings yet," said Garrett. Slightly disappointed that, once more, this may not prove to be much of a challenge.

Kylie took charge; "Garrett, check this floor and the outside. Roland, you take the next two floors, I'll take the next two and Eduardo, you take the top level and the roof."

"How come I have to climb all those stairs?" but Eduardo fell silent under Kylie's steely glare, "Fine, fine. But if I die of exhaustion then I'll know who to blame..."

* * *

"Eddie, you found anything yet?" Garrett's voice came in over the radio.

"Nada,"

"Your PKE is switched on, isn't it?" interjected Kylie, "I'm picking up some odd residual readings on the fourth floor but there's nothing here now."

"You probably scared it a-" Eduardo stopped talking as he heard a faint scratching sound behind him and felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise.

"Eduardo?"

He did not reply. Very slowly he reached over his shoulder, removing the thrower from its cradle and powering up. The low hum of the nuclear accelerator bolstering his confidence, he took a deep breath and spun round, finger on the trigger, only to find himself toe to nose with a terrified rat.

"Ugh!" he jumped back, accidentally dropping his flashlight, plunging him into darkness save for the few remnants of the day's dying light filtering through the filthy windows.

"Eduardo? You okay?" Kylie sounded worried.

"Yeah I'm fine. I...um...tripped," he wasn't about to admit to being scared by a rat, especially not when there was the chance Garrett was still on the radio too.

Retrieving the flashlight and switching it back on he surveyed his surroundings, still feeling uneasy. The top floor had been used as open plan office space and the area was littered with abandoned desks along with the usual sort of debris that was a general requirement for disused buildings. But there did not seem to be anything out of the ordinary there.

"Total waste of time," he muttered powering down and wiping the sweat from his brow and walked on. Despite the stuffiness he kept getting a creepy chill running up and down his spine. Something made him shine the torch back in the direction of the rat. He found it easily enough. Or, at least, what was left of it. All that remained was now little more than a bloody mess on the floor.

Eduardo grabbed his radio, "Roland! Kylie! Get up here NOW! - AaahH!" he stumbled and fell backwards, pulled down by the weight of his pack, as something lunged at him from the shadows. Lethal talons sliced through the air, it severed the lead connecting his blaster to the proton pack and sliced through the right shoulder strap - fortunately only grazing the skin beneath - and completed its destructive arc by knocking the communicator from his grasp.

The Ghostbuster looked up just in time to see his attacker outlined against the broken windows. The monster was spindly in appearance with long, skinny but powerful legs built for speed, its body was hunched forward with a row of spines running down its back. Its arms were disproportionately well muscled compared to the rest of its body, ending with long sickle-shaped claws. He didn't get much of a look at the head, but from what he saw it had a short, snub snout with massive tusks and a pair of malicious green eyes. As soon as the being stepped out of the pool of dim light it became more ethereal in appearance, becoming only slightly more visible than a shadow.

For a moment he lost track of it. The next thing he knew, the demon was standing over him, its eyes alight with an evil intellect.

"We're on our way!" Roland's voice crackled over the now damaged radio.

Distracted, the demon looked round to see who had spoken. Deciding that it hadn't just stopped by for a friendly chat, Eduardo used this opportunity to scramble to his feet and make a run for the nearest exit.

As he ran there was no sound other than the Ghostbuster's own footfalls. He burst through the nearest doorway, slamming it shut behind and breathing a sigh of relief as the lock clicked. He checked the cut on his chest, aware that there was still only eerie silence from back inside - which was somehow worse than if the demon had been howling and shrieking in fury.

Suddenly something rammed hard into the door. Little bits of dried paint and splinters drifted down form around the frame.

"Uh-oh," he realised that the only way out from his current location lay in the form of a set of stairs leading up to the roof. Discarding the now useless proton pack he legged it up the stairs and looked round for another way down from the rooftop. Another thud against the door told him to hurry up about it.

He stopped and turned to look, hearing the loud crack as the door finally gave and the demon appeared at the top of the stairs behind him. For an instant they made eye contact, then Eduardo ran hell for leather in the opposite direction, vaulting like an Olympic athlete over skylights and any other obstacles in the way. All the time aware of the silent predator close behind and knowing all too well that he was rapidly running out of roof.

Eduardo skidded to a halt inches from the six-story drop to the hard, unforgiving concrete below. He cast about desperately looking for some route by which he could escape, only to come to the sickening conclusion that there were none.

Slowly, unarmed and with nowhere to escape to, he turned to face the demon...

To Be Continued...

***************

(oh I just love a good cliffhanger)

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Do I need to mention the legal stuff? Okay, so EGB and Gargoyles belong to those who retain the respective copyrights. I'm not making any money from this and it is for entertainment purposes only. I'm not very good at writing disclaimers. Is there anything I'm missing? Well, whatever, just don't sue me please. Questions, comments, criticisms (constructive preferable) welcome (might encourage me to carry on!) I promise there'll be more of the Gargoyles in Part2.
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