The Home Of Mr And Mrs. Fries, July 16th, 1987
Nora Fries was afraid. No, that was too small a word. She was terrified.
Not the kind of panicked terror one might feel when staring danger directly in the face, though that had certainly been there too. No, it was the kind of terror a person feels when they stare into their future, and sees nothing but misery awaiting them, no matter what they did. Every choice they made would simply lead to a different doom. Not that she was unique to that feeling, she thought. There were others, just like her now, thousands of them, with the same slow, unavoidable death creeping through their bloodstream, that uncurable plague that some had proclaimed to be the judgement of God.
It wasn't just herself she feared for though. Oh, she was afraid for herself certainly, no sane person wouldn't be, she knew all too well the fate that awaited her. A short, sickly life as an untouchable, completely isolated from society, she'd be lucky to spend her last, miserable months in an actual hospital. But the other thing she feared was what her sickness was doing to Victor. Kind, brilliant Victor, who seemed to have aged 20 years in just a few short days, ever since they got those horrible news. Victor, who seemed to take her sickness as a personal failure on his part, because he, a man who'd never so much as read a medical journal that didn't relate to his cryogenics work, couldn't single-handedly save her from this modern day plague.
Yes, Nora feared her own death, but she feared what it would do to Victor as well. They'd been eachothers worlds more or less since they had met in college, Victor had never been the most social person, but there had just been something that had clicked between the two of them. They fit together, like two pieces from a puzzle, in ways that they never had with anyone else. She didn't want to die, not just because she was afraid, but because Victor would be left with nothing.
She hadn't seen him since yesterday, and he'd been acting... stranger since the day before that. Manic, almost. It made her worried he was about to do something drastic. He hadn't come home from work, hadn't called to tell her where he'd be going, which wasn't like him at all. Briefly, she'd wondered if maybe he'd gone out and... put an end to himself, so he wouldn't have to watch her die, but she'd disregarded that idea almost as soon as she'd thought of it. Even at his worst, she couldn't imagine him being capable of that kind of selfishness, though that didn't answer what he'd resort to once her disease had run it's course...
The sound of keys in the front door lock pulled Nora from her brooding thoughts, and she nearly jumped from the couch she'd been half-lying down in. Darting quickly from the living room and out into the hallway, she reached the vestibule just in time for the door to open.
"Victor, where-"
It was her Victor, alright. But he wasn't alone. She blinked, staring widely at the strange man looming over her husbands shoulder. Judging by the man's expression, he was feeling about as awkward as she did.
"Oh! Um, hello. I'm sorry, I didn't know we would be having company!" Nora said, pulling her dressing gown closer over her pajamas.
"Nora, sorry about all of this, but I'll explain everything, I promise..." Victor said, walking up to her and placing his hands on her shoulders "This is Randall Flagg, and what he has to tell you might sound insane, but please, just hear him out, okay?"
"Mrs. Fries, it's very nice to meet you!" The man, who's name was apparently Randall Flagg, said as he stepped in through the door, and much to Nora's surprise, offered his hand to her. In just the few days since Nora had gotten her diagnosis, she'd already gotten used to anyone who knew about it shying away from her like breathing the same air would somehow infect them as well, but Flagg didn't seem the least bit concerned. She took the offered hand, somewhat puzzled, and shook it lightly.
"Ah, it's nice to meet you too, Mr... Flagg. How... do you know Victor?"
Flagg sighed, scratching the back of his head "This is going to be a long and strange story, so you might want to sit down for this. You see, your husband showed up at my office yesterday..."
.....
The Previous Evening...
"There is a group, unknown to most of the civilized world and for good reason, known as The League Of Assassins..." Flagg said, standing with his back turned towards Victor as he stared at the closed blinds like he was trying to peer through them "As you can probably guess by the name, it's not a very pleasant lot. Some people would call it a terrorist organization, others would call it a cult. They'd all be correct. It has existed for centuries, operating as a kind of proto-eco fascist organization, centered around the idea of "protecting" Earth itself from humanity, which mostly seems to revolve around mass murder and eugenics. Anyway, their nonsense philosophies aren't the point, it's about the man who leads the League. To outsiders, he's either known as The Demon, or The Demon's Head, but in reality, his name, or at least the one he uses these days, is Raz Al Ghul..."
"He also happens to be roughly 600 years old, give or take a decade..."
"E-excuse me?" Victor gaped, trying to process the ridiculous story he'd just been told. Flagg didn't seem to notice his clients reaction, simply turning back around and sliding back into his chair. "You... you don't expect me to believe something like that, do you? What, is this some kind of sick joke to you?"
"Dr. Fries, why would I possibly make up something like that? If I was trying to scam you, I'd have sold you one of my potions, and sent you on your way. I know how it sounds, believe me, but I can promise you, I know for a fact that it's true..."
"But-but that's impossible!" Victor answered, adjusting his glasses which had begun to slip from the sweat on his skin "An immortal cult leader, that's something you'd read in old pulp stories, not see in real life!"
"I never said he was immortal, just that he was very, very old. There's no such thing as immortality, Dr. Fries. You only live until you die. But there is a way to extend your life, a secret that Raz Al Ghul discovered, and it might save your wife as well. And I know where it is. So, are you willing to hear me out?"
What Victor WANTED to do was yell at the man, curse him for getting his hopes up with all this magic quackery, then try to set him up with what was obviously a scam. He wanted to throw that stupid Lovers card in his face, and storm out of the filthy, so-called office, and slam the door behind him. He wanted to call Flagg out on coming up with some ridiculous story about immortal ninjas to try and get a quick paycheck out of a desperate husband... but even if he did, he'd just be right back at square one. He'd come down here, knowing it was a long shot, so he might as well see it through.
"Alright... let's hear it. How does any of this help my wife?"
"Glad you asked, Dr Fries!" Flagg said, leaning back in his chair "There are.. places in this world, deep beneath the Earth itself, where, on extremely rare occasions, a perfect joining of naturally occuring alchemic processes, geological phenomena and mystical energies will create an alchemical mixture that under the right circumstances can heal any malady, injury or disease, up to and including death itself! 600 years ago, the man who would become known as Raz Al Ghul discovered one of these places, and discerned their nature, using them to extend his life into present day. He gave them their name; The Lazarus Pits! There are maybe a dozen of them currenlty, scattered across the world, and I happen to know for a fact that one of them exists beneath Gotham!"
"That's... that's insane! Surely something like that would have been discovered decades ago, if it was real!"
"Not if their existance and their abilities were covered up by a clan of terrorist cultists" Flagg shrugged "Honestly, how could you tell one underground puddle of weird goop from another if you didn't know what you were looking for? Anyway, finding it isn't the problem, it's wether or not using it would be worth the price..."
"Yes, the price, you mentioned that before. You implied it's not something monetary?"
"Trying to use any of the Lazarus Pits outside Gotham would be virtual suicide, the League Of Assassins keep a heavy presence around almost all of them, but that's just not practical to do in a city the size of Gotham. That said, I'm pretty sure they're still keeping tabs on it, and trust me on this, Raz Al Ghul does NOT like sharing his toys. If we go through with this, there's a good chance we're going to be dealing with an angry, regenerating eco-terrorist. And that's not even touching on the effects of using the Pit itself.."
"Are there... side effects of some sort?"
"Repeated use of the Pits can apparently lead to temporary insanity, though first-time use should only be a shock to the system. However, another problem is that each Pit can only be used once before it needs to be replenished, which takes thousands of years. This is part of the price I was talking about; if we're successfull with this, the Pit will become useless for anyone else. That's an emergency option more or less permanently off the table. Your wife will be healthy again, but chances are someone else will die without it. If it's Raz Al Ghul, no big loss there, but you never know with these things. It's up to you, Dr. Fries."
Flagg had asked him like it was even a choice at all.
.....
"...so, darling, that's where I've been. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you where I was going, I honestly don't think I was entirerly sure myself. I know I should have called, at least, maybe I just didn't want to say out loud what I was doing, and hear how insane it all sounded with my own ears. Hell, it STILL sounds crazy, but from what Mr. Flagg has told me, and from what he's shown me, I think... I think maybe this could actually work! There might actually be a chance here, small as it may be!"
Nora watched her husband from across the kitchen table, where he was aimlessly stirring the coffee she had poured him with a spoon, despite not having put any sugar or milk into it, trying to read his expression. He almost looked excited, his frantic, bloodshot eyes showing the signs of the past few sleepless nights, but she couldn't see any signs that he was making any of this up, as outlandish as it sounded. Not that she thought he would have, but Victor wouldn't have been the first to clutch at imaginary straws when all hope was gone. She glanced over at Flagg, sitting at the corner of the table, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else than where he had found himself, and tried to make up her mind about him. He certainly didn't look like any scam artist she'd ever seen, they usually tried to portray an image of professionalism, or at least play up whatever gimmick they were trying to sell. And Flagg certainly didn't look like a magician of any kind, even a fake one. Either he was very bad at his job, in which case she didn't think Victor would have fallen for his pitch even on his worst day, or...
"...I'm sorry, Victor, I know you mean well, but you must know what this sounds like, right? Magic? Some miracle cure that just happen to be hidden right beneath Gotham. A secret cult of assassins? I don't think either of you are lying, exactly, but..." She tapered off, not knowing what to say next. Luckily, Flagg seemed to have expected her doubt.
"Mrs. Fries, trust me, I know full well how ridiculous all of this sounds, I doubt I'd believe it myself if I wasn't living through it, and I don't expect you to believe me without proof of my abilities. Which works out anyway, because I'm going to be needing an extra pair of hands for this job. If you'll excuse me for a second!" With that, the self-proclaimed magician rose from his seat, and walked over to just off the side of the kitchen window that faced the garden, and pulled a marker from the jacket he was wearing. Much to Nora's shock, he uncapped the marker, and began drawing some kind of symbol on a bare patch of the wall!
"What are you doing?!"
"Don't worry, it'll disappear once the spell is done, just watch!"
Nora was about to rush over and try to stop him from further vandalizing her kitchen when the symbol suddenly began to glow! She could only stare, mouth slightly open, as the glow began to spread out across the wall, forming a door-shaped rectangle seemingly out of nowhere. Before she could do more than wonder what the hell was going on, a shape began to materialize in the middle of the glowing portal, and through the "door" stepped a third man. He was almost as tall as Flagg, and far more muscular, dressed in a costume with a cat-themed mask and taped-up fists, that she vaguely remembered seeing somewhere before.
"Jeez, that's a hell of a lot more convenient than the subway!" The new arrival said as the portal closed behind him, showing the kitchen wall just as white and pristine as before. "You know, Flagg, if this whole rent-a-wizard thing of yours don't work out, you could always make a fortune giving people rides! Bet you'd put those crooks driving the taxi cabs out of business!"
"That's magician- Oh, never mind!" Flagg groaned, before turning back to herself and Victor. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like you to meet Wildcat, former superhero. He's agreed to give me a hand on this job..."
"Ma'm. Sir. Nice to meet both of you. Flagg tells me we might be dealing with ninjas. I got some relevant experience in that field." Wildcat said, cracking his knuckles.1156