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Standing in the center of the room, surrounded by carnage and the ruins of the bodies of hundreds who had already been torn limb from limb in a massive slaughter the woman in gold and black seemed completely unperturbed as she turned in Icon’s direction. She bent down slightly and curtsied as he came into view, her face hidden behind the black of the mask and the golden veil. 

“Am I not the one you seek?” The woman took a step towards him, stepping over a bloody torso that had nothing attached to it any longer. Her voice sounded almost normal, though there was a hint of an accent to it. “Who is to say I am not Nightmare?” And as she spoke her voice changed, becoming distorted and heavier. The two streamers that emerged from her back rose and twisted around themselves and for the briefest moment it was as if there was a semblance of wings in their place, but it must have just been a trick of the light on the shimmering streams for it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

Another step and this time the skull of a dead man broke beneath her foot. Her black hair fanned out behind her body. “Who says I did not kill all these men?” Her voice had become more distorted, and twisted.

Then from behind Icon came another voice in answer to her own, a voice that Icon would recognize if he had been shown the coverage. “I SAY SO!” The voice thundered as a tide of darkness swept over Icon and he would suddenly find himself completely blind. In that same instant the superhero was struck hard from behind by what seemed to be a massive and misshapen hand with far too many fingers and perhaps claws or long nails. In his weakened state the claws/nails cut through his skin, and the impact cast the hero forward.

For a moment he cleared the darkness flying straight for the gold and black clad woman, who jumped up into the air and as the streamers on her back flared out again seemed to hover briefly before spinning and delivering a graceful kick straight to his face with the force that snapped his nose to send the hero back into the darkness that reached out to receive him. And as the darkness took him again a hand wrapped around his legs, a hand wrapped around his arms, and another (hand?) wrapped around his waist, all of them clenching tightly with a grip that he could not break.

They lifted him up in the darkness as the smell of sulfur and the hot breath washed over him. Then the voice thundered from inches away and hot spittle that burned like acid splattered over Icon’s face, actually melting away the skin where it landed. “I AM NIGHTMARE!” Then the hero felt a terrible pulling sensation as the (hands?) tightened and began to pull as if trying to rip him apart. At first it was merely painful but then another (hand?) gripped both his arms and legs and pulled again harder. Still there was only pain, far more wrenching pain but no ripping apart. 

The (hand?) at his waist moved down and another joined the ones at his arms but still the hero’s body did not rip apart as the being seemed to be trying very hard to do. Finally the hero found himself lifted up higher and then he was twisted as the (hands?) rotated. There was a series of sickening cracks as bones shattered and skin ripped. And then the (hands?) flicked forwards and released, sending him flying forward.

And as his body was sent out of the darkness towards the woman she raised her right hand and white fire billowed forth in a consuming wave to strike him full on.