Museum Madness

The museum hadn't been so busy in years. This new exhibition, The Secrets of Rome, had attracted in a lot of people. Most of the attendees were primarily interested in seeing the fabled Sword of Saint Gereon, a weapon long held under lock and key beneath the Vatican. Balthasar, the museum's newest curator, had managed to organise a spectacular arrangement by which it would make its worldwide redebut here in New York.

Guests filtered throughout the corridors and halls, looking at portraits and gowns dating back to the time of Roman Emperors. Children moved around with excitement, waving newly bought toy swords and ensuring that the museum's expensive gamble in bringing the Sword of Saint Gereon here would pay for itself.

Flick was outside the museum, eating a hot dog and watching a poor quality stream on his iPhone. His favourite soccer team were playing, back home, and he couldn't miss this big match. "Aww, fuck off referee!" He shouted in annoyance, as a passing mother glowered at him. "Eh, sorry! I didn't mean tae..." he shrugged as she moved on.

Among those interested in seeing just exactly what this so called "Sword of Saint Gereon" had to offer was none other than Victoria Hoover. She couldn't remember the last time her schedule had been so freed up to allow her with the opportunity to, of all things, pay a visit to New York's most prized museum. And so she stood before the exhibition alongside many others, fashioned in a jeans jacket that went along with bright white sneakers, under which she wore a short, tight fitted white dress. Her brown hair fell into voluminous clumps down her backside.

The day was going rather peacefully, with satisfied crowds taking pictures and enjoying their day out. Victoria eventually makes it to the sword exhibition. There, in a glass cabinet, is a gloriously preserved weapon that looks far too clean to be so old. This fact is pointed out by a spotty teenager, who mutters; "I bet this is fake!"

Looking at it closely, Victoria can see the intricate latin inscriptions along the base of the blade, the royal blue handle, the bejewelled hilt and the golden inlay that, at the very least, make this a very expensive creation. If it is legitimate, it's no wonder the Vatican hid it.



A plaque in front of the sword reads; "Saint Gereon was a Roman Legionaire who led the first Roman Legion that converted to Christianity. Legend says that the Saint, martyed in Cologne (France), later returned from the grave to lead his Legion against a host from Hell. Whatever may be the case, this weapon was kept in the Vatican until such a time as it was needed again. Luckily for us, we've managed to bring it here for you to see!"

A portrait behind the sword has an artist's impression of what a battle between a Roman Legion and an Army of Hell might have looked like, with masses of red skinned monsters battling champions of light.

Victoria observed the blade from a distance with genuine curiosity. It was marvelously crafted, with every nook and cranny being nothing short of perfection. The apparent legacy that befell the sword was intriguing, but what interested Victoria the most was the weapon's direct origin. Who had been responsible for its creation? When was it made and more importantly, how? She stood with her arms folded beneath her inflated chest pondering upon the sword's origins.

uddenly, Victoria's spider senses trigger. Something terrible is about to happen. Meanwhile, Flick stands up outside and celebrates a goal. "Yaaas!"

Based on the instinct alone, Victoria turned around and glanced over her shoulder. She couldn't help but squint her eyes. A storm was coming.

Grasping a tighter hold over the bag she was carrying, she ran her offhand through her hair and offered the tour guide a feeble nod, as if to somehow imply that she needed to pay a visit to the little girl's room. And so, with the bag in hand, she made off towards the restroom to change into her superhero costume.

Victoria's senses weren't failing her. Within moments of her suiting up, she hears a lone, high pitched scream. When she presumably goes to check, she sees a panicked crowd and screaming children darting away from the central hall. There, a little girl with a bloody knife in her hand stands over an elderly woman with a torn out throat. The security guards attempt to get through the crowd, towards her, whilst some other braver attendees try to intervene.

Everything had occurred much sooner than Scarlet Web had hoped. She'd need to start wearing her suit beneath her actual clothes, which meant no more skirts, no more short sleeves, and worst of all, no more cleavage. The white slots in her costume that she had for eyes widened at the sight of the dead body and the supposed mastermind behind the onslaught: a little girl.

A causality had already been taken, which meant that Scarlet Web had failed before she even had a chance to begin. Even so, now it was a matter of resolving the issue before it got any worse. Aiming the palm of her hand out in the direction of the little girl, Scarlet Web shot out a stream of web from her wrist and intended to immobilize her through encasing her in several rounds of ropes of it. If successful, her next move was to jerk the girl forward and away from the guards that were only placing themselves into harm's way.

Scarlet's move works, as the girl is webbed and dragged towards her. Onlookers gasp in surprise. The little girl doesn't resist, and indeed, when Scarlet gets close to her she spots a vacant look on her face. A moment later, her head slowly turns to Scarlet and flashes blackened eyes alongside a wry grin.

The pool of blood surrounding the deceased old woman begins to bubble dramatically, as if some great heat was rising beneath a pool of tar. The woman's body begins to rise up, like a puppet on strings.

Upon reeling in the little girl like a fish, Scarlet Web's eyes widened further. It didn't necessarily take a genius to deduce that something had possessed this little girl or at the very least, garnered significant influence over her. And within a matter of seconds, an answer was presented to Scarlet Web in the form of a woman who seemingly reconstructed her figure through blood. By Scarlet Web's estimate, some sort of blood manipulation ability.

White slots narrowed into a glare. "I take it you're the one behind all of this. Just what are you after?"

The woman's body straightened, moving in an unnatural way. Her arms spread to either side, as she suddenly burst into flames. The little girl then spoke with a deep, echoed voice that was clearly not her own.

"May you choke on ash and brimstone, little spider."

With that, the blackness poured forth from the girl's eyes and mouth, and bored into the chest of the old woman. The girl blinked in sudden fear and terror, but no one noticed. Instead, all remaining eyes were fixed upon the sight at the centre of the hall.

The old woman's body began to bloat and expand, despite the roaring flames surrounding it. An unearthly, tortured wail emited from her gaping maw, and suddenly the museum went dark. The momentary silence was replaced by the terrified screams of men, women and children who were variously yelling and struggling to both escape and avoid being crushed.

When the light returned, seconds later, the old woman was gone. In her place were two pillars, made of a morbid black rock and smelling of sulphur, and a fiery inferno of a portal stretching between them. In front of the portal stood two figures. One was a white armoured mevieval knight carrying a halberd and with pale, rotting flesh and shimmering green eyes. The other wore damp animal hides and a thatchcloth cowl, each decorated with bones from a variety of animals - and, likely, humans. The latter brought with him a flock of carrion birds,who immediately attacked the crowd.

Meanwhile, Flick spotted people streaming out from the museum in a state of confusion and panic. He furrowed his brow, curious, and decided to see what was going on for himself.

No response. Fitting.

Scarlet Web looked on as the world around her broke into a flurry, utterly helpless to prevent much of anything from happening. She knew next to nothing about the enemy, so rushing in without a game plan was more akin to suicide than anything else.

She had made to move when the little girl had released a torrent of inky darkness from her being, but lost sight of her surroundings as soon as everything went dark. In the next instant, a series of like minded individuals stood behind her, having come from what she could only assume was some sort of portal.

Great. Just great. And here she thought she was going to have her work cut out for her just facing that bloody mess of a woman. But now more enemies seemed to be joining the fray.
When the birds began to attack the innocent bystanders, Scarlet Web was forced to make a move. She didn't have the luxury of being able to think things through. If she waited any longer to act, well then the body count was only going to multiply.

At the sight of the civilians shielding themselves from their winged pursuers, Scarlet Web sprung forward and released several strings of webbing from inside her wrists. Latching onto as many people as she possibly could, she flung them backward and down a long hallway. There was some pain to be had with the way they were quite literally thrown back, but small bruises were better than being dead.
Adding more civilians into the same pile, she turned around and using both hands, constructed a thick wall made of nothing more than her own organic webbing to seal them off. She couldn't risk any further interventions; they'd only be getting in her way.

Their best bet was going to be to run. Run and keep running while she tried her best to subdue the undead and hope for the best. That's all she could do at this point, seeing as though she was heavily outnumbered.

Including the two new guys, there were a total of three enemies that Scarlet Web was going to have to take on. To say she had her hands full was an understatement. Even so, where was that bloody woman now?

"You guys look like you could use some lotion," she said aloud, a shiver running down her spine at the sight of their rotten flesh. "But I don't think they're selling any at the museum. Call me crazy, but I think that probably means you're here for something else. Now, just what might that be, I wonder?"
The sword was the only thing that came to mind that was worth stealing. If that was really the case, then she needed to get it out of their reach, and quick.

But before that, she needed to find a way to close that portal and prevent any more of their allies from popping up. Three was more than enough to deal with already, as far as she was concerned.

With the majority of the bystanders blocked off- excepting those in other rooms or hiding - Scarlet had managed to stop the crows from killing anyone. Notably, the little girl remained on the floor, crying. Her eyes were clear, free of whatever malignant force had occupied her.

The corpse-Knight stepped forward, raising his halberd menacingly. He grinned with blackened teeth, contrasting against the milky white of his rotting skin and the stained cream of his armour. "Your wit does not amuse me, slattern. Come hither and feed my blade, lest you get out of my way." Howling shapes formed behind the Knight, black shadows with the wailing faces of some of his past victims. He walked towards Scarlet, maintaining his grin.

Crowbane redirected his crows towards Scarlet, too. They cawed, their eyes flashing red with hellish power. The bearded necromancer laughed. "Fetch our quarry, Sir Gereon! I will have my flock feast upon this morsel. None can stop the Court of Ash!"

The White Knight, Sir Gereon himself, nodded as he turned towards the direction of his apparent sword. Meanwhile, the portal blazed and burned. Upon closer inspection, the shapeless form of the poor old woman could be seen within the fire, her soul being tortured by winged demons. This really wasn't a happy situation.

Flick struggled to get passed the crowds. He even considered leaving himself, until he heard a little girl say; "Scarlet Web will stop them!". He could smell roasted flesh and sulphur in the air. He should flee. Scarlet could handle it, anyway. Right? "Ugh!" He pressed a button on his belt, allowing his power armour to envelope him. The mercenary shot an energy blast into the air, causing another flurry of screams, but clearing a path to the main hall. He'd be there soon.

The old woman may have been beyond saving, but that didn't stop Scarlet Web from trying. With another well executed string of web, encased in a lather of thin venom --so as to prevent it from ripping away so easily upon meeting the flame-- Scarlet Web attempted to test the portal by trying to retrieve the old woman from within while being a ways outside herself.
Should her aim be successful, she would then fling the woman back and cover her in webs in an attempt to douse the fire that had likely charred her soul by now.

And then she was on the move again, skillfully maneuvering her way through the crowd of crows like an Olympic acrobat, dodging and attacking them all the same. She was their target, fortunately. Just by being there she could keep them from hopefully attacking the old woman and little girl.
The crows were like pests, probing at her ribs with their beaks and earning Scarlet Web's anger. Luring them into a trap, she flustered them into her webbing, stopping them dead in their tracks and leaving them to hang in the middle of the room. Were these crows limited? Or was their master able to spawn more on a whim?
She didn't have time to find out. For Sir Gereon had apparently returned from the dead to claim what may have rightfully been his. But he was so far removed from the "hero" the plaque had described him to be. This guy was a menace and she would prevent him from so much as ever seeing his sword again.

Springing forward, all the while evading a likely attempt at harming her from either of her two enemies, Scarlet Web dove forward as if she were about to enter the portal when suddenly her true aim became ever so distantly clear.
Her true target was one of the pillars, which she tackled with all her superhuman might, hopefully pinning it to the ground while the other still stood up, fully erect.

She hoped that with one of them down was all it would take to shut that portal.

Despite Scarlet's best efforts, the old woman could not be saved. Her webbing was blocked by Crowbane, who summoned a shield of bone to act as a physical barrier. Even then, it was likely that she was incorporeal.

The crows were indeed trapped - clever! - which caused the necromancer to screech: "Gereon! Your aid!" He pointed his hands at Scarlet, sending a summoned skull, flaming and biting, after her. The Screaming Skull was evaded as Scarlet tackled the pillar to the ground. It landed with a tremendous THUD, likely hurting Ms Web due to the force of the impact.

However, the portal did indeed close, the fires going out completely. Crowbane scowled in anger and immediately sent a bolt of black energy at the woman, hopefully forcing her to dodge into the path of the returning Sir Gereon. Gereon, if able, would aim the flat side of his halberd for Scarlet Web in a powerful blow intended to batter her to the ground.

Flick continued on, but the action inside was going incredibly quickly.