A bank of monitors in the lobby showed the Mayor what was now running on WKRR Channel 10 of New York. The Mayor's aide stifled a laugh as the camera moved from a wide shot with eerie synthesizer music to the show in progress: "World of the Psychic with Dr. Peter Venkman."
"Something funny?" the Mayor asked his aide as they were led through a door by one of the workers at Channel 10.
"Not anything I can't handle," the aide replied.
"Good," the Mayor replied looking up at the monitor as they walked.
The video dissolved to the standard low-budgeted talk show set and sitting in the middle was the renowned, somewhat infamous, and pain in the Mayor's side, ex-Ghostbuster Dr. Peter Venkman.
"I hope you can handle him," the Mayor told his aide walking under the video monitor and through another set of doors, "he's been like a nightmare to me these past five years."
The Mayor was there for an interview on running for governor next fall and he didn't want anything to go wrong that day.
"Not a problem Mr. Mayor," the aide replied. "Just leave everything to me."
In the background behind the closed door Peter Venkman's voice could be heard talking to the viewers in a suavely engaging tone, understated and intimate.
"Hi, welcome back to the 'World of the Psychic.' I'm Peter Venkman and I'm chatting with my guest, author, lecturer and of course, psychic, Milton Anglund."
Peter swiveled in his chair to his right to acknowledge his guest.
"Milt," Peter continued in his same sing-song voice, "your new book is called "The End of the World"."
"Yes, that is correct," Milton Anglund answered.
"Now don't take this the wrong way but isn't that kind of like writing about gum disease," Peter said pointing his finger at his guest. "Yes, it could happen, but do you think anybody wants to read a book about it?" Peter finished and shrugged his shoulders, dropping his hands into his lap.
Milton leaned forward in his chair.
"Well, Peter, I think it's important for people to know that the world is in danger."
"Okay Milt," Peter replied raising his hands up off of his lap, with his palms facing up, "so, can you tell me when it's going to happen or do we have to buy the book?"
"Well, I predict that the world will end at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve."
Taken back by the reply Peter pointed his finger to the floor and asked, "This year?"
"Okay, now wait a minute," Peter replied holding up his hands again, "that's cutting it a little close, isn't it?"
Milton Anglund just shrugged his shoulders at Peter.
"Now look I mean from a sales point of view your book just came out, right?" Peter asked.
Milton nodded his head as Peter continued his thought, counting off on the fingers of his right hand.
"So you're not even looking at the paperback release for maybe a year. And you know it's going to be at least another year after that to see if you can get a movie-of-the-week or mini-series potential."
Seeing that his guest was becoming irritated Peter placed a hand on Milton's leg to try and calm him down. The last thing that Peter needed was for this guy to get up and walk off the set.
"Now let me play Devil's advocate here," Peter said, "wouldn't it have been better off predicting that the world will end in 1992 or better yet in 1994 just to be safe."
Milton's temper was flaring now as he pointed his finger at Peter.
"This is not just some money-making scheme!" he shouted at Peter. "I didn't just make up the date."
Milton's face suddenly changed before Peter's eyes. Milton's face dissolved from anger to something of a frightened look. "Or more like someone being controlled by an outside force," Peter thought.
Milton heard the voice in his head again. The pink water from his nightmares was back. Telling him what to do. Controlling him and he didn't like it.
"Join Us! Join Us! Join Us!" it sang to him.
Without knowing what he was doing Milton stopped pointing at Peter and placed his hand on his head rubbing his right temple as he said in a hypnotic voice, "I have a strong psychic belief that the world will end on New Year's Eve."
Peter watched as Milton's right hand started to tremble towards the end of his speech. Peter had seen this before. A man possessed. Only it wasn't a man he had seen, Peter reminded himself. It was a woman and her name was Dana.
Dana, Peter's lost love. Remembering that the camera was still rolling on longer than he would have liked, Peter told Milton, "Well, for your sake I hope you're right. But I think my other guest may disagree with you."
Peter swiveled his chair to his left to face an attractive, timid, New Jersey housewife.
"Elaine, you had another date in mind?"
Quietly, with her head almost facing the ground, Elaine answered Peter's question.
"According to my sources, the world will end on February 14, in the year 2016."
"Valentine's Day. That's got to be a bummer," Peter said as Elaine nodded her head in agreement.
Peter continued, "Elaine, where did you get your information from?"
Elaine sat up a bit straighter in her chair. At least this man wasn't laughing or yelling at her. He wasn't about to hit her either. Her husband hadn't believed her and had hit her hard across the face. Maybe she could trust Peter with her story. Swallowing she told him what had happened to her.
"I received this information from an alien," Elaine said. "As I told my husband, I was in the Paramus Holiday Inn," Elaine dropped her head to look at the floor but continued talking, "I was having a drink at the bar, alone, when this alien approached me and started talking to me."
"He bought me a drink…"
Elaine broke off as if trying to remember something, looking up and closing her eyes in concentration.
Elaine wished she knew what had happened to her. All she could remember was bits and pieces. The bar, a hotel room, someone hurting her...
Elaine's eyes popped open as she looked Peter in the face. "Then he must have used some sort of ray or a mind control device because he made me follow him to his room and that's where he told me about the end of the world," she finished, her voice almost a whisper.
Peter couldn't believe this. Milton with his story about New Year's Eve and now this woman who probably had an affair that she regretted and made up a story about it so she could avoid telling her husband the truth.
"So," Peter thought quickly about what to say to her. "Your alien had a room at the Holiday Inn in Paramus?" was all Peter could think to say.
"It may have been a room on the spacecraft made up to look like a room at the Holiday Inn…" Elaine told Peter dropping her face to the floor and trailing off lost in thought.
Elaine sighed. She had thought that this man would believe her. "Well he didn't really say that now did he," Elaine sternly told herself holding back her tears.
When Elaine looked up into his eyes Peter could see that she had a small tear in her right eye. Barely a whisper Elaine finished her thought. "…I can't be sure, about that Peter."
Peter had about as much as he could take for one day as he rose from his chair telling Elaine, "No, you can't."
Walking towards the camera as the lights went down on his two guests Peter continued speaking to the viewers.
"I think that's the whole problem with aliens; you just can't trust them. You may get some nice ones occasionally like Starman and E.T., but most of them turn out to be some kind of big lizard."
Peter laughed at the camera. "Anyways, we're out of time…" Peter trailed off as he motioned for a stagehand to come forward.
The stagehand came towards Peter carrying a cat.
"So tune in next week on "World of the Psychic" for hairless pets," Peter said as he took the cat from the stagehand and held it up to the camera. "Weird."
Handing the cat back to the stagehand Peter wrapped-up his show.
"Until then this is Peter Venkman saying…"
Peter placed a finger to his temple and sent out a thought to his viewers.
Laughing, Peter took his hand away from his head and turned to say goodbye to his guests.
What a day this had turned out to be. Peter was mad and he was going to let his producer know it. Seeing the man in question Peter went over to him. Peter's producer, a well-meaning young incompetent saw Peter coming his way. This only meant one thing. Peter wanted things to go his way and he was going to hear about it. The two men were squabbling with each other as they came off of the studio floor.
"Where do you find these people Norman? I thought we were having the telekinetic guy who bends the spoons?" Peter stated.
"Look, a lot of the better psychics won't come on the show. They think you're too skeptical," Norman shot back.
"Skeptical!" Peter shouted. Lowering his voice he continued, "Norman, I'm a pushover. I think professional wrestling is real."
Just then, down the hall, Peter saw a group of mayoral assistants walk out of another studio.
"What's all this?" Peter asked Norman.
Norman looked to see the Mayor, his aide, a reporter, and two police officers coming towards them.
"They just got done interviewing the Mayor for "Cityline"," Norman told Peter.
"The Mayor! He's a friend of mine," Peter replied as he started off down the hall towards the Mayor.
"Lenny!" Peter called out.
Peter was getting worked up. He had been trying to talk to the Mayor for years now and nothing was going to stop him now.
The Mayor looked up to see who was calling him and quickly hurried off pretending not to know who he was, leaving his aide to take care of Doctor Peter Venkman.
"Lenny! It's Pete Venkman!" Peter called trying to follow the Mayor.
The Mayor's aide put a hand against Peter's chest stopping him from following the Mayor as he snidely remarked, "Can I help you?"
"Yeah," Peter dangerously replied, "you can get your hand off my chest."
Looking to see that the Mayor was safely out of the room the aide smiled and dropped his hand.
"I'm Jack Hardemeyer. I'm the Mayor's assistant. What can I do for you?" he asked Peter.
"I'm an old friend of the Mayor's," Peter retorted sarcastically. "I just want to say hello and give him a kiss."
"I know who you are, Doctor Venkman," Jack Hardemeyer snared at him. "Busting any ghosts lately?"
"No!" Peter spat at Mr. Hardemeyer, "that's what I want to talk to the Mayor about. You see we did a little job for the city a while back and we ended up getting sued, screwed, and tattooed by deskworms like you."
"Look," Mr. Hardemeyer said as he pointed a finger at Peter, "you stay away from the Mayor. Next fall, barring a disaster, he's going to be elected governor of this state and the last thing we need is for him to be associated with two-bit frauds and publicity hounds like you and your friends. You read me?"
Mr. Hardemeyer turned and walked away from him as Peter shouted to his retreating back.
"Okay I get it. But I want you to tell Lenny that because of you, I'm not voting for him!"
The scene below Mr. Hardemeyer misted over as he closed his eyes. He had been watching his past through the void, a place devoid of love, light, and everything. A realm of complete and profound darkness that was controlled by the thought patterns of those near it. For some people it showed what they desired most. For him, the void only showed him what he had lost, each and every time he looked into it.
Jack Hardemeyer was mad. Here he was trapped in...well he didn't really know where he was, but he did know that he hated it and it all had to do with Doctor Peter Venkman.
"So, do you want revenge?"
Jack opened his eyes and turned to look at the man who had spoken to him. He was a tall man dressed all in brown. The man had long gray-white hair that hung loose past his shoulders. He wore a thick leather 'jack of plate' which was comprised of small iron plates sewn between layers of leather and canvas. Below his belt the man wore a set of faulds to protect his waist and hips. These were "V" in shape and had studs embedded into the ends.
Set around the man's neck was a modified aventail that extended to the man's shoulders and had studs, spikes, and a set of skulls arranged on it. Vambraces were worn without the couter or elbow defense on his lower arms. The vambraces' leather was reinforced with longitudinal strips of hardened hide complete with studs.
The man's look was completed by a pair of brown leather pants and tall leather boots that acted like greaves to cover and protect the man's lower leg and ankle.
Jack gulped and nodded his head towards the man. He had learned that Lord Vigo was a sorcerer not to be messed with. The 16th Century medieval tyrant ruled with an iron fist. Ever since Jack had been pulled through the pink slime covering the Metropolitan Museum of Art he had come under Vigo's rule.
Thinking that it was just another trick of the "Ghostbusters", Jack had yelled at the man demanding to know where he was and what had happened to him. Vigo had answered him back by torturing him with a blue electric light that he sent Jack's way. Jack had felt like he was dying that day, so long ago, his lungs burning him as he found it getting harder and harder to draw a breath.
Vigo had eventually released him and Jack had learned his lesson that day. He didn't cross Vigo the Torturer ever again after that.
Eventually, Jack had found others like him in this place and had learned that Vigo had other names, depending upon whom he asked. Vigo the Cruel, Vigo the Despised, and Vigo the Unholy were among the often whispered names the people here gave him.
"Answer Me!" Vigo roared at Jack.
"Yes, My Lord," Jack replied genuflecting upon his left knee to worship Vigo. "Yes, I want revenge. Revenge on Doctor Peter Venkman and his friends."
"Then you shall have it," Vigo sternly told Jack. "Soon the day of unveiling comes forth when the sixth and seventh seals will be broken off. At that time you will be sent to bring me the child from the girl of your enemy."
"Gladly," Jack told Vigo his face to the ground in front of him.
Vigo smiled. He was going to enjoy what was to come. Jack would be his puppet as he worked his revenge on the men who had trapped him here. He had tried to returned to Earth in 1989 using the slime, generated by Slor, to boost his powers and enabling him to manifest an army of angry spirits to terrorize New York City. Although the slime granted Vigo power enough to manifest his army, he could not regain a physical form. For this reason, he needed a baby to possess.
Dana Barrett's baby Oscar had been his choice until the "Ghostbusters" had attacked him with positively charged slime, blasting him back to where he was now. He was going to rule again if he had his way and his new partner was going to help him do so.
Vigo turned to face the woman who had called his name. A beautiful woman with jet black hair wearing a thin, transparent, long white, silk dress of Babylon design which she had wrapped around her body twice with the upper part of the fringed dress draped around her neck only once. Her breasts clearly showing beneath the thin material. A wide red belt completed the look which she had tied up high on her hips. On the woman's feet were white leather sandals with a closed back and small heel.
"Gozer," Vigo replied turning away from Jack and walking towards the woman. "What do you need my love?"
"Are our plans coming into play?" she asked stopping before her mate.
"Yes," Vigo replied stopping and taking Gozer's hand. "Jack Hardemeyer will fulfill our plans of ruling the Earth together as King and Queen."
Vigo gently turned Gozer around and walked with her back the way that she had come.
"Good," Gozer replied allowing Vigo to take her back to their room that they shared. "As soon as you can get the child, I will be able to possess the young girl of our enemy and they will do nothing to stop us."
"Yes, my love."
Gozer smiled. When she had first met Vigo it had not been love at first sight. Rather it was a battle in which neither had won. Panting for breath, Gozer had given up on fighting with Vigo. It was getting her nowhere. She needed to destroy the world not this man.
Gozer had been known as The Traveler; visiting multiple worlds and conquering them. During each of her manifestations in the material plane throughout history, Gozer would first gain access to a world through the coupling of two demi-god minions and heralds - the Keymaster and the Gatekeeper. Once the minions had opened the doorway for her, Gozer would destroy the world. That was until the "Ghostbusters" had stopped her. The men had crossed the streams from their proton packs and forced the gate closed, banishing Gozer back to her hellish realm in which she retained her earliest form from Babylon. That was where she had met Vigo some time later.
"Let's work together," she called out to the man fighting her.
In the end it had worked. Vigo had stopped fighting her as she sat and listened to the man's story. Vigo's story was much like hers. Working with Vigo had been her only way to get out of this place where they were both stuck right now. She hated the "Ghostbusters" as much as Vigo did for what they had done to her. Soon they would pay. The "Ghostbusters" would be torn apart in their fight to stop Vigo and her and that made the plan that the pair was forming fool proof.
For if Vigo could proceed to possess the child of their enemy, she could possess the young girl and the "Ghostbusters" would not fight them for fear of hurting one of their own. This she had learned from watching them through the void. Squeezing Vigo's hand she walked with him past his subjects who each, in turn, genuflected upon their left knee to worship the pair.
Yes, she was going to enjoy their plan very much.