Chapter 3: Images and Rebuilding

The stained door with the peeling paint creaked loudly as it opened, and the priest held it, politely inviting the two other men into the ratty old motel room. The two homeless men shuffled inside.

"Please, make yourself at home," said the priest warmly. He placed the "Do Not Disturb" tag on the door handle and closed the door, then gestured to the bed and to a table with a bag and newspaper. "Rest. Take food."

The homeless men looked about the shabby room, neither one seriously considering that what they were about to receive or experience was going to be free or un-degrading. But hunger tended to breed desperation. "Look, man," said one of the men. "You don't have to pretend to be nice to us. Just do what you want with us and give us some money."

The priest smiled and walked to the table. "But all that I want is to be generous to my fellow brothers. For as the good book says, 'He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord.'" He beamed in a warm pride. "Proverbs, chapter nineteen, verse seventeen."

"So ... how do you want us?" asked the other man.

"Comfortable and happy, like all men should be," answered the priest. He picked up a bottle of orange juice and opened it, offering it to one of the men. "Fed and ... clean." He nodded his head towards the bathroom.

The men looked at each other and shrugged. "He wants one of us clean, and the other dirty," said one of the men. "Whatever gets him off." He slumped into the bathroom and started taking off his clothes.

The priest smiled politely, and the second homeless man took the orange juice. He opened it and drank, smacking his lips oddly and grimacing at the taste. "This tastes weird," he said.

The priest looked concerned. "It should be good. Let me try it." He took a swig, tasting the juice. "Tastes fine to me." He handed it back to the homeless man, who drank some more. The priest hummed to himself as he turned to the bag and pulled out a set of nested plastic containers. The tune he hummed sounded spiritual to the homeless man, like a hymn. He occupied himself, sorting and spreading the containers.

"What are those for?" the man asked the priest.

"Organizing. Cleaning." He turned to the man. "Cleanliness is next to Godliness."

The priest watched the homeless man carefully, and they heard the water turn on in the bathroom. The sound of streams of water spraying on the floor of the tub was soon interrupted as the other man stepped into the shower. The priest smiled.

"So, how does this fantasy of yours work?" asked the homeless man. He drained the rest of his orange juice and scratched himself. "Do we go in there with him, or are you two doing me, or are we just doing you?"

The priest smiled and shook his head. "Honestly, this is nothing like what you think." His eyes turned glassy as he stared off into space. "I'd like to make a new man out of you. Both of you. I have been dreaming of doing this for years." He sat on the chair, rolled up his sleeves, and started to remove his shoes, humming to himself.

The homeless man watched the priest as he took off his shoes and socks. He scratched himself again, started sweating, and his mouth turned dry. His face fell as his stomach lurched. A sharp pain clawed on his insides, and started burning. He convulsed, and doubled over in pain.

"Aarggh!!! What did you ... what did you give me?" he groaned.

"Stand up," commanded the priest, and he stood and lifted the homeless man, propping him up against the wall. "I will return."

The man clutched his stomach and his face twisted in pain as the fire raged inside his blood. His body shook, and the priest stepped into the bathroom. He pushed open the shower curtain and turned off the water. The naked man looked at him.

"What? We're starting already?" he asked.

"Yes," answered the priest. He watched the filthy water pour into the drain, and once it cleared, he closed the drain.

"AAARRGGHH!!!" The man out in the room screamed in agony, and collapsed.

The naked man's eyes widened. "Nick! Are you..." he tried to ask, but that was as far as he got. The knife came out of nowhere, and slashed his throat. He clutched his throat, trying to hold the blood in, but it pumped and poured out in gushing streams between his fingers. The priest grabbed the man's head and pushed him back, forcing him to bleed into the stopped tub. The man let out a series of gurgling, rasping sounds as he struggled for life and breath, and his face turned ashen. His body slumped.

The priest pushed the man's knees straight, and carefully lowered the body down, keeping as much of it out of the pool of blood as possible. Once he managed to get the body properly propped up, he stepped back and casually washed his hands in the sink. The fresh blood washed off with little difficulty. He then stepped out of the bathroom, took off his collar, and taking the other body by the legs, dragged it into the bathroom.

Touching both bodies at once, he concentrated for several minutes. "United in death, united in resurrection," he whispered to himself. "Death sync."

Tombspawn concentrated, the air thrummed with a foreboding moan, and a sickly green energy flowed from his hands, entering the two bodies. "Arise. Awaken," he commanded them.

The bodies moved. The naked man in the shower slowly erected, and the clothed one sat up, orange foam dribbling from its mouth. "Remove your clothes," he ordered the one, and the clothed corpse started unbuttoning its shirt.

The blood that had poured into the tub had filled the lower half and was slowly creeping up towards the feet of the naked corpse. "Move your feet. Stand on the edge," he instructed. The corpse did just that. "Bleed into the tub."

The supervillain put the knife in his pocket and sliced the naked corpse's ankle with the soft pad of his bare finger. Blood poured from the new wound into the tub. The tub was filling quickly with the precious red fluid. Tombspawn touched the corpse and the body shivered as it constricted. Blood sprayed from the wounds as the muscles squeezed, draining quickly, and soon turned to a slow drip as the body emptied itself. He carefully wiped the blood from corpse's chest with paper towels, cleaning it.

By the time the corpse was completely empty, the second corpse was naked and waiting its turn. Tombspawn left the two and took the newspaper, spreading sheets over the bed and making a path from the bed to the bathroom. "Now go to the bed, lie there, and wait," he commanded the drained corpse. The body shuffled over obediently, leaving a trail of small red dots on the newspaper.

Tomspawn repeated the process with the second body, having it stand on the edge of the tub and slitting the ankles. Blood poured and collected into the tub. When that body was drained, he commanded it to lie on the bed as well.

<p class="c">"Stricken, smitted, and afflicted, <br> See him dying on the tree;<br> 'Tis the Christ by man rejected;<br> Yes, my soul, 'tis He, 'tis He!"

He sang softly to himself as he ran his fingers over the men's skins. The skin opened up at his command, unzipping at his touch, eagerly revealing the muscles and fat and organs hidden beneath. He took the skin off in large strips, pulling it off the hands and feet like well worn gloves and socks, and over the heads, unmasking the skulls and muscles.

<p class="c">"Mark the sacrifice appointed, <br> See who bears the awful load!<br> 'Tis the Word, 'tis God's Anointed, <br> Son of man and Son of God."

He hung the skins in the bathroom to drip, and returned to the bodies, where he began to disassemble and sort the parts. Strips of fat went in one container, muscles in another. Tendons were placed in a small tub along with the small bits of cartilage. Nerves, arteries, and veins were disconnected, unthreaded, and wound neatly into organized rolls. Large organs were placed into the largest tub.

<p class="c">"Here we have a firm foundation, <br> Here the refuge of the lost;<br> Christ, the Rock of our salvation, <br> His the Name of which we boast."

The intestines, bladders, and stomachs needed to be cleaned, and he took those to the bathroom and squeezed the contents out into the toilet. He really didn't need these parts, but felt it would be disrespectful to not use them. Spinal fluid was drained and collected into a small container. This was something he definitely did not need, and he dutifully poured the fluids into the sink.

<p class="c">"Lamb of God! For sinners wounded, <br> Sacrifice to cancel guilt, <br> None shall ever be confounded<br> Who on Thee their hope have built."

He opened the skulls and removed the brains, and then the eyes. He grimaced as he learned that one man had a false eye. Three eyes would just not do, but it was too late. He would work with what he had. The bodies were disassembled and sorted, and nothing remained but the skeletons still laying in their original positions. He washed his hands again, took a book out of the bag, and studied the diagrams inside.

"Right Minimus Distal Phalange," he quoted the book, and he picked up the two small matching bones from the right hands, tips of the little fingers, from both bodies. He examined the similar shapes, noted how they reminded him of a chess pawn, and squeezed the two together. The bones flowed under his power, molding like clay into a single bone of greater size, density, and strength. He placed the composite bone down and picked up two more. "Right Minimus Intermediate Phalange." The bones fused together.

Tombspawn looked over the expanse of the over four hundred bones that lay before him, and then at all the organs and skin that would come afterward. This would take a long time, but food and sleep were no longer concerns of his, and the death sync would ensure a quality construction. The coroner's money had paid for the room for several days. He thought about his songs, and smiled to himself as he recalled the simple tune about the foot bone connecting to the ankle bone. He thought back to the tub in the bathroom, and selected a more appropriate song.

<p class="c">"Precious, precious blood of Jesus, <br> Shed on Calvary!<br> Shed for rebels, shed for sinners, <br> Shed for me.

Precious, precious blood of Jesus!<br> All the price is paid;<br> Perfect pardon now is offered, <br> Peace is made."

Tricia shuddered and shook as she re-tuned herself, adjusting her tempo back to normal speed. It was nearly seven in the morning, and she still felt a little out-of-sync with reality, but not so bad that she couldn't deal with it. She climbed off the bed and scampered into the kitchen, following the smell of frying bacon.

"¡Buenos dios!" she purred to Joey, who was tending the eggs.

He smiled at her. "Good morning!"

She sauntered into the kitchen, planted her lips on his, and gave him a big, fat, wet kiss and a hug. "You two were hot this morning," she growled.

Joey grinned. "Thanks. You missed round two."

"Really? You stud! She's going to be in a good mood today. Sorry I missed it." She picked up a coffee mug and filled it. "But I did get to see you two stuck in your 'O' faces for an hour. That was fun."

He chuckled. "I really don't want to think about that. Oh, thanks for doing the dishes and making my lunch."

"Well, I got bored." Tricia leaned over his shoulder. "What did you do to my eggs?"

"I put cheese in."

"Joey, I'm trying to lose weight."

"I like eggs with cheese!" He turned and looked her up and down. "And I like you the way you are. Stop trying to lose weight. If you want eggs without cheese, cook them when you're in your time-warp world."

"You know I can't make the electricity go faster." Tricia leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "And thank you. You're sweet. On the dot."

This last thing she said confused him, so he changed the subject. "Is Betty really showing up at seven?"

Tricia sipped her coffee, not answering. Joey realized the reason she wasn't answering was because as far as she knew, she just did. She had just hiccuped. She glanced down at the kitchen counter and groaned as she saw a couple ants crawling on the counter. "Damn ants," she cursed. "How the hell do they get past the ward?" She bent down and opened the cupboard under the sink to extract a plastic bottle of insect killer.

Joey grinned as he checked out her butt. Her T-shirt pulled upward as she bent over, exposing her naked labia. "Shouldn't you be getting dressed? You know how Betty gets when she sees you like this."

She stood up and smirked at him. "I know how YOU get when you see me like this." Tricia checked to see if the spray bottle was closed, found her targets, and used the bottle of insect killer to kill the ants. WHAM! WHAM!

"Trish."

She sighed, pulled a fresh paper towel, and wiped up the smashed insects. "I suppose so. But you know, stud, if you were to slip her a little of the Omega power, it just might loosen her up a bit. Pull that stick out of her ass." She tossed the paper towel in the trash.

Joey considered it, and made a face. "Ew."

"'Ew' what? Stick-up-her-ass 'Ew', or..."

He shook his head. "No. Just touching-Betty 'Ew'." He put the spatula down and turned to her. "I just can't stand the thought of touching any woman who isn't young, gorgeous, sexy..."

Tricia smirked at him as she walked into his arms. "We have you spoiled, don't we?"

"Yeah." They embraced and kissed. As they wrapped their arms around each other, their tongues slipped over each other, and her big breasts mashed up against his chest, Joey slid his hands down and under her shirt, feeling her bare butt. Power immediately slipped into her body, up to her brain stem, and Tricia squirmed on him. "Mmmmm..." he moaned into her mouth. "Sorry you missed the action this morning."

"I enjoyed myself." She kissed him again.

"I really wanted you this morning. I was getting really horny."

"Joey, you know house rule number five. You want a woman, you take her."

They giggled as they kissed, and Joey slipped his hands upward, lifting her shirt up over her naked ass. Tricia writhed and rubbed her crotch up against his, and his erection started to grow.

They heard the front door open, and their eyes snapped open in alarm.

"HELLOOO! KNOCK! KNOCK!" It was Betty's voice. Scrappy jumped out of his cage barking and ran to meet the visitor. "OH! Get away from me! Stop that!" They could hear her dealing with the dog.

Joey let go of Tricia and stared at her in panic. "I can turn you invisible," he whispered.

Tricia relaxed, winked at him, and pulled her shirt back down over her rump. "Don't worry. I've got this." And she confidently strutted out of the kitchen. "Miss Collins! ¡Buenos dios! What a delight to see you. Again. So soon."

Betty Collins was an older, stern, plain-looking woman from Child and Family Services, and as Joey peeked out from around the corner of the dining room, he could see her shooing the dog away from her. "Back! Back! Get off of me!"

"Scrappy!" Joey called, and he whistled. The dog obediently ran over to him, and Joey smirked as he watched the woman wiping invisible dirt from her legs.

"Honestly!" Betty griped. "I just can't see how anyone could live with such a filthy little..." She stopped when she saw Tricia standing in the middle of the room wearing what appeared to be a large T-shirt and nothing else. Her jaw dropped, and she silently mouthed "With a shirt like this..." as she read the words that were currently stretched across Tricia's huge and obviously bra-less breasts. "Miss Sanchez! You're..."

Tricia struck an attitude pose. "Isn't it a little early for our next unscheduled inspection? It's only been, what, four days? It's only supposed to be once every couple months."

Betty squinted at Tricia's body. "Are you wearing underwear?" she asked accusingly.

Tricia sauntered up to the woman confidently. "Are you going to check me?"

She hesitated. "Um ... No."

"Then, yes!" Tricia answered, and she blew a little air-kiss and sashayed into her bedroom to get dressed.

Annie rolled out as Tricia entered. She took one look at the woman and gave her a critical stare. "Oy! Miss Collins. Again with the inspections? What! You don't have enough other families to monitor?"

Betty walked into the living room and surveyed the place. "And a lovely 'Good morning to you, too' Miss Freidman. And yes, I do have other families to monitor." She ran her finger across a surface, checking it for dust. "But not all of my clients are such high-profile as you all are, and not everyone quite approves of this setup. You require extra attention. Now if you will mind your manners and..."

"I'll mind my manners when you mind yours," Annie interrupted. "Now step outside, KNOCK this time, and wait for one of us to answer the door. I don't like people coming into my house without being invited first."

Betty smiled sourly at Annie. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but you know the deal EarthGuard made with Child and Family Services. I get a key, I get my name on the..." She gestured to the hovering crystal. " ... permission list, and I get to make as many inspections as I deem necessary." She eyed Annie accusingly. "And quite frankly, I feel I don't make enough inspections here. I'm not at all fooled by your little front. I know what's going on here, and I think it is DISGUSTING!" She pulled her pen out of her clipboard. "That woman, that VIXEN! She's not at all appropriate for tending to an impressionable young man. I just KNOW that she's going to leave him scarred for life!"

Annie glared back at her. "Actually, that scar came from a different woman, the one that tried to claw his heart out. And that VIXEN you don't like is the reason he is alive today, so pay her some respect. So unless you can prove something, you should keep your accusations to yourself."

Betty marked something on her clipboard. "Listen, Miss Freidman. We all know that he doesn't belong here. He belongs in a PROPER family. And if I find any evidence of you mistreating him, or of any inappropriate behavior, or if I find any of his extended family, I'm taking him out of here." She glanced at the hallway leading to the bedroom. "It's just not right for a woman with HER attitudes and HER history to be taking care of children!" She looked back down at Annie. "And YOU! You're way to young! You're barely out of diapers! You shouldn't be OW!!!"

She shrieked in pain because Annie had rolled her chair into her legs. Annie grabbed the woman by the arm and held her with the tight powerful grip of a wheelchair user.

"Now listen to me!" Annie said to her sternly, and squeezing her arm painfully. "I know about Tricia's past and her attitudes, but she, like ALL people are capable of, has made a change in her life. She is a good mother, and she is dedicated to this boy's welfare. And as for me, I'll have you know that I'm back IN those diapers again. And I want you to know that if everything goes right in your life, you one day will be back in them as well. So knock it off with the diaper insults!" She released the woman and rolled her chair back. "Now go do your inspection. Check the trashcans for used condoms and drawers for sex toys."

Betty had been stunned into silence, and she rubbed her arm where Annie had grabbed her. She stepped back and took a moment to regain her composure, looked in a trashcan, and made a note on her clipboard.

"I see you are still into junk food," she said snidely.

"Likewise," Annie responded, noting Betty's ass.

Betty didn't notice the comment, and she strode into the kitchen. "Joseph!" she called out in a loving voice that fooled no-one. "And how are you doing this morning?" Joey was flipping the eggs and bacon. She frowned. "I see they have you doing the cooking."

Joey smiled. "Yeah! It's fun!" he beamed. "I'm used to cooking things by putting a stick through it after I kill it, or using an old piece of used aluminum foil. But they have pans! This is great!" He turned to her and grinned. "You want some eggs?"

Betty blinked as she processed the thought of Joey having to kill his food first, and stammered a bit. "Um ... no, thank you though." She composed herself, looked over the clean kitchen counters, and examined the trashcan. "Are you doing okay? Is there anything you need? Everything all right?" She looked overly concerned. "Anything they are not providing?"

Joey concentrated, working out the last few questions and noticed that once again Betty had asked him questions where the answers were 'yes-no-yes-no', which made it impossible for him to answer with either one of those words. She had an annoying habit of doing this. No matter what he could say in response, she would take it wrong.

"I'm fine!" he decided on. "I like it here. Why do you keep asking me?"

"Part of the job. And besides, I worry about you, Joey." Betty looked in the refrigerator and then the freezer, and apparently failed to find any sex toys in there. "This is not exactly the ideal setup for a young man like yourself. Wouldn't you feel more comfortable with a more ... traditional family?"

Joey squinted at her. "Traditional? You mean..."

She looked in the trashcan again. "Older ... more parental experience, and a strong, supportive father figure? A steady lifestyle?"

He nodded and gasped in understanding. "Oh! You mean some boring couple!"

She frowned. "No, well ... I mean, stable. Normal."

Joey turned back to his eggs and bacon. "Nah. I like Tricia and Annie. And if you're trying to offer me a 'normal' life, you're a bit too late. Tell you what!" He turned back to her. "You go on TV and tell everyone that I didn't kill an eighth level demon, and convince everyone I don't have powers, and I'll consider it. But until then, I'm staying here."

She shrugged and opened a cabinet at random, saw the dishes inside, and closed it. She then turned to him and looked at him with great concern. "Joey, I saw what she was wearing. You can tell me," she said in a soft whisper. "Is everything ... appropriate here?"