The Savoy

“The square root of nothing is fuck all!”

Gregory spun around. He had heard that raucous tone before. Henrik.

The young man stood behind Gregory, a big smile beaming broadly on his friendly face, but Gregory knew Henrik was an agent of The Rabbit.

Pretending bonhomie, he engaged the charming young Swede in conversation, wondering as always, where the devil had Stiletto got to?

Lord Stiletto was sat with his pipe in a comfortable arm chair in the lounge at the Savoy, watching with wry amusement their conversation going on at the bar. He had no concern for his friend, but he was still troubled by the unanswered question, “Who was it that had knifed Gregory at the Fitzwilliam, and removed the package from his waistcoat pocket?” Surely not Henrik!

“And what brings you to London?” Gregory was politely enquiring.

“Oh, just here to catch a show,” the young man said, beaming. “Wicked is still playing, and I’m hoping to catch the Matisse exhibition at Tate Modern before it finishes.”

Gregory had finally caught sight of his friend across the lounge, and steered young Henrik into a rather smart looking armchair next to him.

“How’s the girl?” asked Stiletto evenly of Henrik.

“Well she had a hell of a headache and was out of action for a few days, but she’s around,” replied the debonair dandy.

Stiletto was always surprised, even here at the Savoy, at the curious and sometimes mocking glances their Victorian dress instigated. Still, he leant across to brush some fluff from his own trouser crease, then forward a fraction more to do likewise to young Henrik. The needle on his finger was so fine Henrik didn’t even feel it, but within seconds the Swede was unconscious. With a broadsheet to cover his recumbent form, he looked like an old gent who had dozed off whilst reading the paper. The two friends made their exit.

Waiting outside at the wheel of a vintage Bentley was Haydrift Eaglebeard. No sooner had Gregory and Stiletto settled in the rear seats than Eaglebeard shot the car out into the Strand, horn blaring, as he wove between the early afternoon traffic. Lady Bane as usual was riding shotgun, restored to her normal silk and bustled self, but with a rather strange metallic contraption cradled in her arms that most peoples, wherever they might be in the universe, would recognise as a gun of some sort.

“What’s that?” enquired Gregory.

“It’s a gun of some sort,” Sarah replied with a smile.

Copyright Jhedron Luckspar © 2014 2018
For a FREE eBook of Revenge Of The Hrym visit my Book Page

The Captives

Unknown at the time, two other survivors of the destruction of the planet Earth, had been Duke Magnus and the Lady Susanna. Wise to the machinations of the Rabbit and the Girl with the Red Hair, they had hitched a ride with The Rabbit. A chance remark had betrayed their sympathies to the Friend’s cause. Now, naked and freezing, they hung upside down in one of the cells deep within a forgotten asteroid.

It was only chance that had alerted the Friends to the fate of Magnus and Susanna. In an infinite universe, entanglement creates powerful connections.

Haydrift Eaglebeard passed his palm over the electronic lock of the door. Silently it opened. It was one of many amazing abilities of his new hand he was discovering.

He took a clockwork mouse out of his pocket, and whispering his instructions, sent it off to explore the cell complex.

Lord Stiletto ran his fingers along the cold steel of the blade, from which he took his name, and slipped it back into the sheath on his wrist. As a diversionary tactic, Stiletto was going in through the front door.

Sarah, Lady Bane, was unrecognisable. Gone were the silk skirts and bustles. Gone was her whole appearance. Stiletto’s technicians had completely changed the structure and appearance of her face and now she resembled a cross between a demon and a reptile. The fluorescent yellow slime oozing from the corners of her eyes was a touch Stiletto was particularly pleased with.

Spleenspew, the guard, was mean. He had been serving The Rabbit all his life, for his was an hereditary post. A complete bastard by all accounts, he had served in the Grakkam campaign, clearing out the uranium mines infested with the indigenous rebels, and had “cleared” many more with his hands and spiked knuckles than with his blaster. Spleenspew liked to get up close and personal.

Which was Sarah’s situation at this moment. The local dialect was pretty much like Slavic mutant spat through gravel, and Sarah delivered her lines perfectly, demon eyes boring into Spleenspew’s. She thought she had him, but brutal and mean as he was, he was also efficient. Feeling his welling thought communication, with lightning speed she drove the point of her blade through the mutant’s throat, before the alarm could be given.

Unaware of the drama taking place hundreds of levels below, Lord Stiletto wandered through the main entrance of The Rabbit’s lair.

A frock coat and top hat is not every day wear on an asteroid, and the girl on reception, used to seeing battle-weary troops, and the scum of the universe, sensed trouble, a concern which was confirmed by the sensors that showed Stiletto was carrying more personal armaments than a Zidian space trooper.

Years of training had given Haydrift Eaglebeard lightning reflexes. Unarmed as he was, except for his bone blade which was able to escape detection by the sensors, he felt the incoming threat and as he spun, palmed the attacking energy with his new right hand. The wall to his side exploded with molten metal, and all elements of surprise were lost.

Sarah, Lady Bane, held the mutant eye up to the scanner and the door silently dematerialized to reveal the holding cell. Shivering with the intense cold, she glided across the freezing cell and released the captives from their bonds. Magnus and Susanna fell with sickening thuds to the frozen floor and Sarah realised she needed help.

Lord Stiletto had only gone about ten steps before alarms sounded and blast doors slammed down all around him. With no break in his stride or composure, he pulled a metallic capsule from his pocket and lobbed it into the  busy atrium, full of soldiers, guards and mercenaries. The nerve toxin, to which he had been made immune, rendered a fatal paralysis on all within touch of its rapidly expanding vapour.

Eaglebeard knelt beside Sarah, and passed his right hand briefly across the foreheads of the two captives, who immediately began to show an improvement in their colour.

Extending his hand like a blade, he opened a fold in the very fabric of the universe, and within the blink of an eye, they were gone.

Copyright Jhedron Luckspar © 2014 2018
For a FREE eBook of Revenge Of The Hrym visit my Book Page

Angels Are Real by Stig Rudeholm

Their Father was dying, they knew that now. Several millennia of hatred and violence in His name, stirred up by false prophets, had been slowly killing Him. As the number of True Believers shrank, so did the Lord’s strength. With a heavy heart, Gabriel approached the bed. “Father…”

The old man shook his head feebly. Tears were running down his face as he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I tried, Gabriel… I tried…”

“You did, Father. I know you did.” Gabriel leaned down and reverently kissed his Father’s forehead. “Is it time, then?” he asked softly. “Has the time finally come to do what we discussed so long ago?”


A crowd was gathering along the edge of the crater. The heat generated by the impact was immense. But if there was one thing you could always count on with humans, it was that in the fight between curiosity and survival instinct, curiosity always won.

Something stirred among the smoke at the bottom of the pit. It was increasingly obvious that what had until now been believed to be a meteor, was in actual fact something else entirely.

As the smoke cleared, the silhouette of a crouching man appeared. But it was not human. It couldn’t be. It was way too big…

Taller than the tallest man, yet impossibly agile, it moved with superhuman grace as it stood up, taking in the wide-eyed stares of the people around it. The being was at the same time amazingly beautiful and absolutely terrifying to behold. It was surrounded by a glow that you felt rather than saw, raw power radiating from its entire frame. From its back, two large feathered wings unfolded slowly, like the petals of a blooming flower greeting the sun. The people gaped in wonder as the wings stretched, flexed, and then relaxed. Like the wings of an angel.

“Dad, look! It’s an angel!” a small girl said, tugging on her father’s sleeve, pointing.

“Look honey… It’s an… It’s an angel…” the man stammered, dumbfounded. His right arm was going limp. He fought to keep it straight, to keep hold of the phone. Like dozens of others, he had started filming as soon as the “meteor” had hit. But now the phone was getting heavier and heavier in his hand.

He wasn’t aware of what was happening around him, as his gaze was locked on the strange and wonderful creature below, but the rest of the crowd were also feeling it. Eyes and mouths wide open, the people were mesmerized by the unseen force emanating from the being in the centre of the crater.

Some had managed to press “send” before the invisible force had hit them. Within seconds, the net was buzzing.

#angelsarereal #secondcoming #praisethelord


Gabriel stood, flexing his wings. As he looked at the sheep assembled around the rim of the crater, his heart burned with contempt.

The angel strode purposefully towards the crowd, drawing an enormous sword from its sheath. The blade shone with the light of a thousand suns. Spellbound by the spectacle unfolding before them and unable to look away, the people closest to the edge were blinded instantly, their eyes vaporized in their sockets. Where it had been eerily silent just a moment earlier, the air erupted with the panicked screams of men, women, and children. When the killing began, it was a slaughter.

Gabriel screamed. Tears born of equal measures sadness and rage flowed from his eyes. He swung his mighty sword left and right, cutting down swathes of people with every stroke. God’s final words, whispered through His dying breath, echoed in his mind… “Wipe them out… All of them…”


Copyright Stig Rudeholm © 2014


This version of the story has, with the Author’s permission, been very slightly edited from the Original.

Twitter @grakkam


Where was Stiletto?

As it was home to England’s other famous university, it seemed only logical after time spent in Oxford, that Gregory Cobblestone should find himself in Cambridge, ostensibly to attend a performance of Othello at the Shakespeare Festival. However, the real reason was to deliver the package without detection by The Rabbit.

Haydrift Eaglebeard was a strange fellow, but that in itself was his best recommendation. Strange carried connotations of weird, and weird was where the two friends were going.

What is it with the museum thing?  Gregory pondered. Collection had been at the Ashmolean, whilst delivery was at the Fitzwilliam, a wonderful museum with a fine collection of Impressionist paintings and statues. Gregory was quite surprised to see so many fine works outside of Paris or Amsterdam.

He was particularly taken with the beautiful bronze statue, A Woman Combing Her Hair, which apparently was on loan from the Tate. It was a pity they weren’t international art thieves instead of universal conspirators, because Gregory had fallen in love with it and could imagine this beautiful statue having pride of place in his apartment on Sunshine, Lord Stiletto’s space station, near the Horse Head Nebula.

There was no sign of Stiletto, but was that Lady Bane descending the magnificent stairway? Stiletto was convinced she was on the side of the angels, but Gregory thought of that magnificent silver ring, and wasn’t so sure.

Eaglebeard, who to the casual eye, had been examining some beautiful marquetry on a splendid old cabinet, was deep in conversation with the Girl with the Red Hair. Was he simply flirting, or delving for information, or maybe, the thought came, he didn’t actually know who she was. If the Girl with the Red Hair was here, then surely, they must be in the presence of The Rabbit!

Quickly Gregory put his hand to his waistcoat pocket, but it was still there, the wax sealed package.

The timing had to be very precise. The portal would only be open for seconds.

Gregory sighed with calm satisfaction, then buckled in unbelievable agony as the jagged blade was placed, rather than stabbed, into the left of his two kidneys.

Something was wrong! Glancing over the space of the hall, Haydrift Eaglebeard saw his friend slowly collapse, a pool of crimson blood spreading around him on the polished mahogany floor of the splendid antiquarian museum.

Before he could act, the Girl with the Red Hair looped a fine wire, so thin and strong it couldn’t have been made on this planet, over Eaglebeard’s right hand, and with a deft tug, removed it at the wrist.

Thank goodness for Stiletto. Biding his time in the shadows, he stepped from behind a curtain and shot the Girl with the Red Hair. Unfortunately, the gun was set to stun, so she would live. Reaching down, he calmly picked up the hand from the floor, and slipping it into his pocket, guided his friend towards the ever-spreading pool of blood around the prostrate form of Gregory. Lifting Gregory onto his shoulder, he heard the strangled whisper, “the package,” but it was too late. A red trail of rabbit prints led away across the polished floor and a quick check of the waistcoat pocket showed that the package was truly gone.

Copyright by Jhedron Luckspar © 2014 2018
For a FREE eBook of Revenge Of The Hrym visit my Book Page

The Package

Ironically, as it was epicenter of the source of the explosion that destroyed the Earth, the few who did survive had been located at Gavle, a small town on the eastern coast of Sweden.

“Thank God,” said Gregory, “for parallel universes.”

“You jest,” commented Lord Stiletto, puffing on his new pipe. He didn’t have tobacco in his pipe, which he pronounced peep, after a Sean Connery movie, but he liked to puff away at it as if it did. A skill he had learned from Eagle Cloud, an Apache chief who had taught him how to both track a mountain lion across barren mountain scree, and negotiate the spirit world.

“Deadly serious, old chap.”

“No, about God!”

“Don’t start that again.” And the matter, for the moment, was closed.

The two friends were sat on the sixth floor outside terrace of the café at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford. Lord Stiletto and Gregory had travelled forward in time to his library where they had enjoyed a well-deserved breakfast of scrambled eggs and oysters, and then returned refreshed to a parallel existence of the Earth, that conveniently, hadn’t been blown up by The Rabbit. There was a package to be collected, and the message had indicated that it was to be found in the new Tutankhamun exhibition.

“But are you sure it was The Rabbit?” enquired Stiletto over his Earl Grey.

He flashed a quick hand signal to his friend, and as casually as possible, Gregory raised his gaze to the far corner, where the Girl with the Red Hair was openly sitting at a table, apparently absorbed in today’s edition of The Times. If the Girl was here, then surely they must also be in the presence of The Rabbit.

“Split up,” said Stiletto, leaving a generous tip on the table and walking immediately to the exit where he headed down the stairs to the second floor, and became very interested in the tea bowls and swords in the Japanese exhibition.

Meantime, Gregory finished his tea and cake, and also headed down the stairs, but went to the Tutankhamun exhibition on the third floor.

He was in one way, rather disappointed by the exhibition. He had hoped there would be some of the exhibits from the Cairo museum, but apart from a copy of the golden death mask, most of the exhibition related to Howard Carter and his team.

Walking straight up to one of the few genuine Egyptian artefacts, a beautiful life size basalt statue, he tapped a fast rhythm on the left nipple of the ancient stone carving.

Where there had been smooth stone, an oblong section of the chest, about five centimetres wide, seemed to dissolve and quickly Gregory removed the small wax sealed package within.

Copyright Jhedron Luckspar © 2014 2018


For a FREE eBook of Revenge Of The Hrym visit my Book Page

The Rabbit

All was quiet on the morning of the ball at the Steampunk Festival. Resplendent in their top hats, bowlers with goggles, bustled dresses and robot arms, the festival goers crowded the venue. Lord Stiletto stalked the halls of the Railway Museum looking for The Rabbit.

It was The Rabbit, whiskers twitching, who watched Stiletto from the shadows. He knew the man with the fabled book collection and the new robotic steam arm meant trouble.

The Girl with the Red Hair was speaking to author and adventurer, Gregory Cobblestone, sizing up the situation. To the world of Gavle, in 21st century Sweden, she was a maker and seller of unique Steampunk artefacts, but really, she was working for The Rabbit.

Surrounded by the huge steam trains like behemoths, waiting for the events to take place, Gregory sighed. Where was Stiletto?

Lord Stiletto was working his way around the halls, looking for books for his collection, but really keeping all his senses alert for The Rabbit.

The Rabbit was a multi-dimensional being of pure evil. It amused itself to take the form of a regular sized white rabbit, so beloved of young Earth children. Still, its manic pink eyes were said to drag you to insanity if you were to become locked into their gaze. It was looking for recruits for its intergalactic organisation. In each world it visited it found suitable adherents, and on Earth it was the world of Steampunk that threw up the best agents.

As well as looking for recruits, The Rabbit had other problems. It needed a source of plutonium for his ship’s batteries and it knew that Sweden had hidden stores secreted in underground bunkers in the Gavle region. Far enough away from Stockholm, in case of leaks, but well protected by hundreds of metres of rock and lead shielding.

Unbeknownst to all except the Girl with the Red Hair, there was a secret entrance to the plutonium store hidden somewhere within the Railway Museum.

A young man, Henrik, dapperly dressed in a fine burgundy woolen frock coat, and silk top hat, was engaging Gregory in a long conversation, obviously trying to divert him from the machinations of The Rabbit. He asked if Gregory would read from his new book, but then grabbed the text from the surprised author, and began to read it out loud himself, modulating his powerful voice to scramble the auditory neural signals of anybody within a ten metre radius.

Returning through the halls, Lord Stiletto felt a sudden warm, wet sensation at the back of his neck, that filled him with horror. Someone had slipped a squid into the gap between his collar and his neck. Stiletto felt the bite of hundreds of sharp suckers as they cut into his skin, crushing and choking him as he gasped for air.

The concealed blade in the rim of his pale grey top hat was in his sturdy grip as he sliced calmly through the grasping suckered arms, feeling cool copper-based blood mixing with his warm iron blood as it soaked into his spotless white shirt.

Stiletto returned to his suite. Showered and re-suited, with a carefully arranged cravat to cover his bruised throat, he was back down in good time for the evening’s banquet.

Gregory and Stiletto were seated with Sarah, also known as Lady Bane, and Duke Magnus and Lady Susanna of Sweden. On Lady Bane’s finger was a large silver ring in the form of a rabbit. The silver beast curled around her finger, its ears and feet standing proud. The significance was not lost on the two observant adventurers.

Next day, in the quiet of the morning, Lord Stiletto was up to his mind reading tricks. He had caught the thoughts of the Girl with the Red Hair in an unguarded moment, and discovered the entrance to the plutonium cache.

Unknown to Stiletto, The Rabbit, up to his own mind reading tricks, had caught Lord Stiletto in an unguarded moment and discovered the entrance to the plutonium.

### Star Alert, Inter Galactic News Flash. Star Date 346910-*3 ###

The promising planet, known to its inhabitants as Earth, blew up under mysterious circumstances. Breaking news suggests that terrorists initiated a chain reaction from a government plutonium storage facility which initiated a reaction that spread to the core of the planet.

Message ends……

Copyright ©2014 2018 Jhedron Luckspar

For a FREE eBook of Revenge Of The Hrym visit my Book Page