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Chapter 2 by Nemo of Utopia Nemo of Utopia

Two Questions Must Now Be Answered: 1: Who Am I? 2: What Do I Actually Summon?

Marcus Micah McManus: I Rescue A Half-Corrupted Angel From The Rooms Of One Of The Hell Dimensions.

My parents were kind of idiots.

I have six brothers and sisters and we ALL were given names which are "Four Ms". I'm the youngest child. My sister's were Margaret Madeleine McManus, Maria Molly McManus, and Maybel Macey McManus: while my brothers were Michael Malone McManus, Malcolm Malachi McManus and Moses Mortimer McManus.

I think you now understand why my next older brother 'Moe' legally changed his name to "Timothy Seth McManus" when he married his high school sweetheart Clara four years ago. I love "Tim" as he now insists we call him, I know he always hated the nickname "Moe", and he seems much happier now: but for me, I guess deep down I've always kinda felt like a "Mark McManus". Since Tim changed his name the others have been talking about doing the same, off and on, but me and my twin sister "Mace" like our names. (Ok, "Mace" DID flip her first and middle name around and drop the Y from 'Macey' when she became Mrs Marconi last year, but she's been insisting everyone call her "Mace" since she was seven, so that wasn't especially unexpected, not like "Tim"...)


For today's ritual I'm wearing the robes of a Roman Catholic friar circa 1066, loaned to me by one of my friends who does historical reenactments. The whole costume is exact in every detail except being machine stitched and made from modern-day machine made cloth. (AND obviously not actually being an exact replica of the clothes of the era, few if any of which have survived. It rather is a painstakingly researched approximation based on statues and frescoes from cathedrals and tombs dating back to the period.)

The bell rings seven times while I recite the English incantations, and the summoning circle begins to glow, when I nearly panic! Somehow a horsefly has gotten into the examination chamber: and it's landed at the center of the summoning circle!


The pure white glow changes to green, then dark blue, and finally 'blacklight'. There's a burst of noise, like the WORST Icelandic -Thrash Metal ever written, (as performed by an orchestra of tone-deaf North Koreans who have never seen these kinds of instruments before today but regrettably can play by wrote JUST enough that it's still recognizable,) playing not backwards but sideways: and the inner-ring of the summoning circle dissappears, replaced by an empty black circle...

In a sudden burst of motion an injured and naked woman with a woven ring of glowing yellow rose-canes hovering above her head and wings with burnished steel feathers leaps out of the black circle! Dozens of oily black tentacles reach out after her, but before they can reach her, the black circle begins closing and the tentacles are pulled back with it. The woman hovers above the restored summoning circle and looks around her in confusion, then turns her eyes to me...

For all that she is badly injured, she is beautiful. Her hair is tangled into a solid mass, and matted with blood and filth, but I can tell it would be a rich auburn if it were washed and de-tangled. Her skin is covered in bruises, scars, and cuts, but the few places where she isn't injured it is alabaster pale. Her breasts are large but proportional for her body, I'd probably describe them as 'grapefruit' sized. She has a broken arm, but this appears to be the only injury requiring immediate medical attention, and I dare not free her from the summoning circle just yet. Her eyes are the color of the sky at high noon on a cloudless day, and though one is swelled almost shut I see both gratitude and lust in them; but the lust is suppressed by the huge amount of pain she is in...


Though I choked for a second when everything went sideways, I finish the incantations and address my new familiar.

"What is your name and how may I help you Miss...?" I ask, gesturing for her to safely alight in the circle.

My new familiar responds with telepathy, apparently not being able to speak English... }What is thy name young Magus, and in what plane and nation do I now find myself?{ She asks, comming to hover exactly eighteen inches off the floor. She now cradles her right arm with her left, wincing in pain at every movement. Yet, I still dare not release her. It is obvious that she is corrupted at least in part: else she would have no trace of lust*, only love*.
*(Some angels can experience "Eros", [sexual/romantic love,] but that requires them having known their beloved for more than a few dozen seconds and developed a strong relationship...)

}I am called 'Mark McManus'. You are in the Commonwealth of Virginia in the United States of America. The plane you have landed in is known as the One-Hundred-And-Fifth Realm of Clefans: AKA Ærþ. Now, again, by what name may I know you?{ I ask, deliberately rephrasing my question.

}Thou may call me 'Alicial the Fallen-but-Undamned'.{ She replies, and flexes her steel-feathered wings against the wards. }Wilt thou now release me?{ Alicial asks.

}I fear I have a few more questions to ask of you.{ I respond sadly. }From what dimension have I rescued you, from what dimension were you born, and who is your Liege? Answer honestly and to my satisfaction and you will be released and treated with the best medical care I can have provided...{ I let the implications of failure go Unsaid.

}Thou hast saved me from a chamber in the city of Dis on the fifth layer of the twenty-first realm of The Infernal Dimensions; what you would call 'Hell'. I was not born, but made, reforged from a purified mortal soul, however that occurred these five-hundred-and-ten Clefanish years ago in what thou would know as the seventh layer of the third realm of 'Monte-Celestia'. As for my liege, thou canst not but have guessed: whomsoever it had been previously, now it is thee.{ Alicial explains, and I can feel her agony across our link and silent pleading to help her gain relief...

}Enough, I am satisfied.{ I respond, sensing no trace of deception, and speak the final words the ritual.

Both diagrams flare pink for a second, then vanish in a puff of pink smoke. I walk off of the summoning stage, my newly bound 'familiar' following after, and go to the wall-phone to summon an ambulance...

What Happens At The Hospital?

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