A Dance with the Devil: Erica Zann vs. Ball and Chain RPG

The dimensions are like nesting dolls. Self-contained, containing others. Contradictions that somehow are true. The human race can perceive three of these dimensions, exists infinitesimally in the fourth. Current theory is that there are 26 dimensions…or more. And there are THINGS that exist in these greater dimensions, things of jagged hypercubes and shapes that are so far from human imagination that they do not have names. The slightest sliver interposed over our world would induce insanity on sight. Most of these higher dimensions have no interest in the third. No more than we have in the single line that composes the first. But…the fourth dimension is different. It is inhabited by beings sometimes known as 'Hounds'. The Hounds of Tindalos. And others, ephemeral and unnamed. These Hounds are constantly hungry, push at the dimensional barrier. The tension grows, and the fabric of reality begins to rip... 
 
And that is where the Zann family comes into play. Erich Zann heard things that others could not hear. And he composed to this cacophonous, and yet lovely, melody. This music in an unknown key held sway over those creatures in the fourth dimension, made them cease their howling and their tearing, tearing, tearing. But only for so long as it was played. As soon as the music stopped, THEY began once more their clawing at the borders of their dark and jagged world. And so Zann played on and on and on, and even in death he played…. 
 
And then Erica Zann, who had been taught the music, inherited the job of preventing the fourth dimension from consuming our own. But children rarely do what they're told…Erica was curious, allowed herself to fall into temptation. She made a whole new set of melodies to summon forth the slavering hounds. Under her control of course, for once unleashed they would kill and kill and kill until the frozen time fell to pieces. So Erica's life became a constant struggle to maintain the dimensional boundaries, while toying with the Hounds, walking on the tightrope of a violin string. 
 
Was this wise? No. Did foolishness go without punishment? Most certainly not. Tonight was the night when all hell would break loose (and depending on your point of view, the fourth dimension might well be hell….a world without light, without time, without distance…a world where the inside and the outside fluctuated and vast Klein-Bottle plants swallow the unwary traveller). It started off normally enough, on a crisp, cloudless night, a gibbous moon hanging in the sky. And, normally enough, the story started with a violin. 
 
Erica Zann inhaled deeply, gaining her composure. She raised her violin to her shoulder, tuned it by ear (no tuning fork in the world could capture the right pitch). Then she played, a new melody she composed herself, taking the notes from a place outside of space, outside of time….the bait, as it were. She had composed before, with fantastic results, but maybe that was just to lull her into a sense of security. The wall was breached, and someTHING came through, and passed right into Erica's head. She had no time to react. But she screamed. The spine-chilling scream of a mute, the purest horror and fear in a single sound. A sound that SHOULD not be, and thus instilled that fear of the unknown...
 
The wall had been breached. The Hounds were loose. And Erica was their channel.

A desolate, gray plain stretched out seemingly forever. The thick Fog made it seem that way at least. Instead of fields of grass and dirt, the ground was covered by massive  piles of bones. Skulls, nails, vertebra, ribs, pelvis, sternum all human and all wreaking of rotted bits of flesh still refusing to let go of its chosen body part. There were loud crunches as something bolted across the land, crushing bones as it went along. Marco had no clue where exactly he was or where he was going, all he knew was that it was the most terrifying place he had ever been to and he was making a mad dash away from whatever the hell was chasing him.
 
Marco tripped and stumbled over the annoying limbs that stuck out like roots of trees. He didn't try to remember how he got here, not enough time to do that. His heart beat violently in his chest. He kept running blindly through fog, basically hoping that if that thing caught up to him it would be quick and painless. The boy could feel his legs getting heavy like someone had quickly sneaked weights on them when he wasn't looking. Marco's heavy and rapid breathing either meant he was terrified out of his goddamn mind or he was getting tired. Both were probably true. 
 
Suddenly, like in all the horror films, Marco tripped over a protruding femur and fell face first into the ground of bones. He quickly scrambled to his feet and looked out at the dense fog. The teens eyes darted from left to right, hoping to catch a glance of the thing toying with him. Seconds went by with Marco's heart rate skyrocketing. The worst part about anything was the waiting. Well that and the disemboweling that would happen when the creepy thing decided to stop messing with his head and get it over with. Marco saw something out of the corner of his eye and he whipped around trying to catch a glimpse. Nothing, just the white wall of fog, not even disturbed by a gust of wind. Suddenly a ghastly voice whispered out from every direction, "Maaaaaarco". A chill crawled up his spine as he heard whatever was out there call his name. He looked spun around frantically looking for a sign of the speaker. Where was it?! "Marco" it called out again. It sounded almost as if it was right next to him. Marco's eyes were as wide as they could go. He kept spinning around and the thing started repeating his name faster. "Marco Marco Marco Marco Marco" each time the voice changed randomly. He finally turned behind him and he came face to face rotting, dead version of himself with glazed over eyes. It grinned showing off it's brown, decaying teeth. With what little lip it had left, it was amazing and horrifying when it shouted "wake up already!"
 
"AHHHHHHHHH!" Marco screamed as his head was jolted off his pillow. He had sweat coming down his forehead and his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets. He felt something on his wrist. He looked down to see a metal cuff attached to a chain. Following the chain with his eyes, he was met by another pair of beady eyes staring directly at him. These eyes belonged of course to Ball, the ball and chain, who also happened to have the worst wake up calls ever. Marco glared at him, half trying to randomly develop laser vision and melt the stupid grin Ball had permanently pasted on his face. "Your three hours have expired" Ball said frankly. The ball and chain was referring to the time Marco had to himself. The rest of the time Ball went on vigilantism sprees.  There was a pause for a moment, right before Marco exploded. "What the hell did you just do to me!?" the teen whispered harshly as to not wake his parents and at the same time voice his anger. Ball just replied calmly "I brought you back to the waking world of course". "Stop making it sound like you helped me! That is NOT how you wake someone up you Chain Chomp rip off!", "You are awake now. I suggest not continuing this conversation any further and get down to buisness". Marco was still steamed at the piece of metal for the Freddy Krueger moment, but his experience with Ball had taught him resistance was futile. "Fine. Just let me get dressed and then find a safe spot to get the costume on". 
 
A few minutes later Marco emerged out of his house and into the cool, dark night, fully clothed. He'd also taken the liberty of combing his hair and washing his face before getting morphed into a 7 foot giant that wore a purple hood over his head. He had Ball in a backpack to carry him along without getting weird looks. "Alright. Let's get over to a nice secluded area and and do the whole mind controlly thing" Marco exclaimed. He walked off the yellowed lawn and headed towards his motorcycle. Marco put one leg over and tried to revved the engine. It didn't start. He revved again and the bike started to pur. He grinned, relieved the junky motorcycle did actually start. Ball's muffled voice came out of the backpack. "I believe we are able to change here". The teen pretended he couldn't hear him. All he wanted was a few more minutes of freedom. "Let's ride"! he yelled out as he pressed down on the gas and sped off down the road until either Ball bit him or something forcefully made him stop.

 Though she will be referred to as 'Erica' for the time being, keep in mind that Erica Zann was Erica no longer…she was the Hounds, and they governed her actions. Protected from Time (the one thing that could stop the Hounds on their own from consuming the 3rd dimension whole), by Erica's time-adapted self (all life on Earth had to evolve to live with time…most things cannot take it. Rather than the handful of years given to the adapted lifeforms they die between the ticks of a second), the Hounds hungered.  
 
Erica was on her knees, the Hounds getting their bearings inside her head. Instinctively (for while the real Erica was certainly disposed, she was not gone), she reached for the violin, clutched it tightly. The Hounds, adjusting to bipedal movement (though they were called Hounds, they were in fact more like worms, with gaping maws) took no notice of this…and even if they did, it was doubtful that they would care. 
  
Now, Erica strode from the room, the Hounds scanning for fresh prey. Erica's eyes were inverted…the Hounds wanted to search on wavelengths not visible to the human eye. There's always been something sinister about the white pupil in a black eye….ancestral memory counts for more than people give it credit for. Spiders, snakes, and the darkness…it's much, much more than superstition. To see beyond the illusion called reality. That is called seeing Pan.  
 
The sinister wind whipped Erica's dress around her legs. She looked to the left and right for any sign of life. Tire tracks…tire tracks ran off across the lawn, and towards the road. Erica looked off down the road, one of the Hounds jumping back into the 4th dimension so it could see where the tracks led. (Like we citizens of the 3rd dimension, looking down at a piece of paper, denizens of the 4th are capable of looking at the 3rd all at once…though the view is grotesque in the extreme). The Hound then plotted a trajectory that would intersect the motorbike, cutting through the 4th dimension because a human on foot was just too slow.  
 
Now, and only now, the Hounds realized the potential of the violin. Erica played, opening the doorway the Hounds desired. She would not actually be going into the 4th dimension. She was entering a tesseract, basically a bypass through space/time. The motorbike was in sight. The Hounds tried to growl, but were unable to due to Erica's defective vocal cords. This was strictly predator/prey now. And Marco (who Erica would not have recognized even if she was in control of herself) was the prey.    

 Boston was a beautiful place to be at night. The road lit with lights from all the lampposts surrounding it, illuminating the street. The cool night air making everything fresh, almost new. Okay, it may have a problem with crime and some streets may smell like cat pee or worse. But when you were spending most of your time getting puppeteered by a metallic sphere with an English accent, it was the great pearly gates of heaven. Marco hadn’t been able to get out and just drive around for a long time. With only three hours he either slept or had to rush to get to his destination. It just felt good to be able to do what he wanted for a while.

Marco raced down the streets. The wind blew his shaggy brown hair back as he began to gain speed. He weaved through the slow cars, getting more then a few honks piercing what might have been a quiet night. The teen grinned and his heart beat faster. It was fun to have a little innocent danger. Obviously though, the buzz kill of a ball had to ruin it. Ball’s muffled voice came from his backpack “ I suggest you slow down and find a secluded area before I eat through this bag and into your spine”. Marco rolled his eyes. Nothing like a 300 year old demonic tool nagging/threatening you to take possession of your body. Marco sped up, smiling devilishly.

Marco could see a light ahead now yellow. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he started to gain even more speed. He could make this no problem. He swerved past the cars who wouldn’t dare try and make it through. He laughed at these losers. All this freedom, all the fun started to bubble up inside him. It had to be let out in one loud exclamation. “FOR FREEDOM”! Marco zoomed past the last of the cars and out into the intersection. He could’ve gotten through too if it weren’t for a girl randomly appearing in front of him. He quickly hit the brakes and skidded to a halt just a few feet away from none other than Erica Zann. Marco stared wide eyed at her. She could teleport? “ Erica?”…Whoops. He’d forgotten they didn’t actually know each other. He noticed her eyes. Erica’s whites were black and her pupil was snow white. A shiver ran down his spine. Not just because of her eyes, but everything about her just seemed different. He took what courage he had from his speeding incident and asked ,obviously scared out of his mind. “Are…Are you okay”?

Erica glared at Marco with her strange, inverted eyes. She did not move as the motorcycle hurtled towards her (the Hounds were unfamiliar with the laws of motion, and how it related to the physics of Earth). Thus, it was probably a good thing for Erica, (and a bad thing for the rest of the world), that Marco was a good enough driver to stop his bike. Now, Erica had met Marco before. She had a pretty good memory for faces. The Hounds had not met Marco before. They had a memory that faces tasted good. They peered out of Erica's eyes hungrily. Normally by now they would have torn Marco to shreds, but something held them back. They sensed an artifact of some sort, the ball and chain. The Hounds did not like the aura it was giving off, but were unwilling to back down. As creatures of hunger, the idea of finding different prey seemed intolerable. They would fight the ball, and it too would be consumed if at all possible. 

" Are…Are you okay?" No, no the REAL Erica was not okay. She was seeing much more of the 4th dimension than she ever had before, and she was REALLY not liking it. She had seen parts of this place before, but actually being here was a completely different experience. It was no longer something behind the curtains, a cosmic void, it was somehow more real. The Hounds, in their full, 4D forms, were prowling around her, eagerly waiting for their chance to eat the third dimension whole. Erica pulled her knees to her chest, tried not to look around her. She felt insubstantial here, like a piece of paper blowing on the breeze. She could see what was happening to herself, to Marco, and it scared her. She missed her father. She missed her mother. She even missed her teammates, anyone would be welcome in this place. 

 In the 3D world, the Hound-Possessed Erica grinned. Her teeth were jagged and long. Her fingers seemed to have an extra two joints, curled around the handle of the violin like tentacles. She moved swiftly on birdlike legs, and lunged towards Marco, trying to draw him close so she could bite into his shoulder. The ball-and-chain shaped irregularity would be dealt with once the mortal had been devoured.

 Marco wished his eyes could widen more than they already were. It would have helped voice the surprise he had when the quiet, alluring girl he had a crush on morphed into a monster before him. Her teeth had sharpened and elongated, making the smile she was giving him a very good description of a crocodile smile. Marco glanced at her arms to see them wrap around her violin. He took another look as he realized in even more disbelief that her upper limbs were definitely not arms and more tentacles. Without any warning as far as the teen could see, Erica's legs bent the wrong way and she lunged gracefully towards him, ready to sink her new, barbaric teeth into his flesh. 
 
Marco had never been more happy that he wasn't normal. An ordinary kid might have froze as the terrifying figure pounced, fangs barred. Fortunately Marco had been stabbed, shot, burned and beaten enough to something as simple as instinct. He immediately let go of his motorcycle, not bothering to put the kickstand up. With the one leg on the ground he pushed off sending the other up and over the bike. As soon as his foot hit the ground Marco quickly bent his knees and ducked. He didn't dare look up to take in what Erica had become. He merely felt the parting of the air as her deformed body flew over him, narrowly missing.  His bike followed him and with a clatter, landing a few inches away from his feet.
 
Marco wanted to thank Wildcat and Bloodstone and Umbra for actually giving him at least some kind of skill set. Plus it would be great to have somebody who could actually handle themselves in this situation instead of him. He spun around quickly with his fists up, his legs spread apart in a fighting stance Ted had taught him. His eyes flashed with determination. His fight or flight instincts had kicked in if just for that moment. As soon as he saw the monster that was Erica Zann it completely disappeared. Even with a deformed body and every part of her wanting to devour him it was still Erica. How could Marco hit her? She needed help, not even more trauma then whatever turned her into that. His fists lowered, but he was still determined. He could get her help! The Children Of the Damned could restrain her without hurting her and figure out a way to change her back. All he had to do was lose her then get to the base and tell the others. After that moment of hesitation Marco turned, planted his hands under his fallen motorcycle and hefted the heavy bike back on its two wheels. Continuing in one swift motion he swung his leg over. Marco revved the engine, ready to take off. But before he did that there was something he felt he should do. Again he looked back to Erica. There was a chance this could fail and wasting time wasn't helping, but he needed to get this off his chest. "Erica I"-  he hesitated. Marco just couldn't say it. She was completely out of control! It could be the last time they actually even saw each other again and still he couldn't work up the courage! The courage to say in some form that he liked her. He looked down to the ground ashamed he couldn't just let that one stupid thing out. Then the teen looked back up to her again, the pain of this situation evident in his face. "I'm going to save you". With that he turned the other way and sped down the road, swerving through the cars that had been abandoned when Erica had showed up. Marco was quickly reaching up to 50 mph and showed no signs of stopping. He had to figure a plan. With all the emotion and pressure right now he couldn't. So first thing on his list was to lose Erica so he could think right and approach this as logically as he possibly could. He just hoped what was happening to her wasn't permanent.