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Description
The very first thing Eddie thought when he woke up was that he had the worst hangover he'd ever had in his life.

Now he'd had some pretty spectacular ones, both in this time and his previous one.  Working with the high profile bands he'd worked with gave him access to the depths of chemical experimentation, and though he'd never tried any hard stuff, he'd gotten into a little bit of everything else, and as a result had once in a while come to in conditions that were best described as "shitty."

However, alcohol had always been his intoxicant of choice, and landing in the age of metal had treated that particular indulgence well.  Even though he'd been here over a year, it still wasn't unusual for him to be struck by the occasional slap of intense vertigo at just how drastically his life had changed from what it had been...even as awesome as the change was, it was disorienting at the best of times.  To this day he would wake up at least once a month and be rather confused about what he was doing sleeping in a stone house under a blanket of fur with the most beautiful woman in the world (in his opinion anyway) next to him, and the queen of the whole country screeching at him and trying to beat down his door.  Adding a sensation like that to waking up with a beer headache made for some serious morning dizzies.

This was worse.  As soon as Eddie became aware, it was like he had a burning knife poked straight between his eyes.  His mouth was dry and had a weird, metallic taste to it, and his body ached as though he were on day three of a five-day flu.  He groaned softly, trying to force his eyes to open, even though they felt hot and dry as well.  Opening his eyes wasn't so bad, though, since at least the room he was in was fairly dim, but everything was weirdly fuzzy, like a Hextadon had shed all over-

Ah, no, vision was blurry, that was the problem.  Eddie would have loved to roll over in his bed and go back to sleep until the worst of this wore off.  ...if he were at home in his bed.  Which he quickly realized he was not.

After a couple seconds of getting his bearings, Eddie came to realize he was in an incredibly strange position for having just woken up.  It was like he was standing up, though his weight wasn't distributed right.  There seemed to be nothing under his feet.  He opened his eyes again, blinking rapidly until they had adjusted as much as possible to being back open.  He glanced around the room he was in, trying to take it in.  It was made of stone, the way most places were, but it seemed as though this place was more rubble than anything.  There were smashed bits of statues, ripped up cushions and shattered bits of glass and mirror along the floor.  With just a second's thought, he recognized the place...it was a room from the ruins of Lionwhyte's Pleasure Dome.  He and others from Ironheade had been trying to clean the place up to repurpose it for something else, but there was such a vast mess that it was taking them quite a long time.  This room didn't look as though it had even been touched yet.  Strangely enough, it also looked as though the floor was about ten feet below him, must've been one hell of a...

Wait.  The floor was ten feet below him.  Spatial disorientation had nothing to do with it, he was in full human form and yet hanging in the freaking air.  Eddie spent a split second being flabbergasted by this before his body finally decided it was time to fill his brain in on another detail, which was that his arms were raised over his head and sore as hell.  He looked up and confirmed that gravity hadn't abandoned him, but that his wrists were bound together in leather straps and he was suspended by them from an extended bit of one of the old statues.

"Oh shit.  This isn't good."  Eddie looked around the room again, tamping down an instinct to panic.  He actually saw his axe and Clementine leaning against the opposite wall, but that didn't help him here.  He gritted his teeth, looking back up and starting to strain against the bonds, putting as much strength into it as he could to try and break his way free, but all that succeeded in doing was causing more wrenching pain in his arms and shoulders.  He squirmed and thrashed a moment, but it was futile, even if he weren't in a bad position to work against it, the leather was too strong and thickly wrapped.

All right, then.  If he shifted to his demon form, he could use his wings to get up to the statue where the leather was secured and work it off the end of the extension, then cut his hands free on his axe.  He hadn't decided yet whether after that he'd choose the "run away" plan, or the "find who did this and decapitate them" plan, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

Eddie had needed to practice with his demon form to get to the point where he could control the change.  The first few times it had happened, it had been involuntary...it only seemed to happen when a large battle had broken out and he assumed that was the only thing that could bring it out of him.  Ophelia had been the one to convince him that he should try to learn how to change at will, and make use of the advantages that came with it.  At first, he hadn't been able to do it, no matter how hard he would work during skirmishes against leftover bits and pieces of the Drowning Doom.  He tried to get himself angry, figuring on the "Incredible Hulk" method (a method he had to find a new way to explain when mentioning the Incredible Hulk got him nothing but a bunch of blank stares from Ironheade).  That made him feel closer, but it still hadn't brought on the change.

Finally, as a last resort, he'd gone to see the Guardian of Metal.  The wise old creature knew secrets about nearly everything else, so it made as much sense to ask him as anyone.  The Guardian had feigned bafflement for just long enough to make Eddie feel uncomfortable before finally laughing and informing Eddie that he was surprised the roadie hadn't come to see him sooner.

According to the Guardian, Eddie's demonic form didn't need to be forced out somehow...just the opposite, in fact.  Humans were creatures of emotion more than demons were, he had said.  Sheer emotion couldn't be counted on to unleash a demon, it would take calmness and confidence.  Singular focus was necessary, having a goal and putting all your longing into it was the best way to do it.  Sure, the Guardian had admitted that pure unadulterated rage was one method to do it, though not foolproof, but the best way was just "singular focus" (the Guardian had repeated that phrase so many times during their talk that Eddie had given serious consideration to knocking him on the head) on any particular emotion or goal, no matter what it was...pure dedication to the task at hand.

Eddie had sort of thought that advice was pure bullshit, a "think happy thoughts" line of crap he hadn't believed when Peter Pan and Tinkerbell had preached it to his child-self either...but with some work, he'd discovered that, shock of shocks, the Guardian of Metal knew what he was talking about.  It was almost like meditation, in a way.  Find your center or whatever, and focus on the one thing you absolutely needed to happen, and the demon would come out to make it happen for you.

Eddie hadn't had a hard time putting a "singular focus" into his mind...the one thing he could always focus on: the dedication to his new family...Ophelia, Lita, Mangus, Ironheade.

He would never in a million years tell anyone that his demon side ran on what was essentially the power of friendship...he was sure he'd be razzed to the point of incoherence if he ever admitted to that...but he had it figured out, and he could break out his wings and extra bursts of power whenever he needed them.  Some times were easier than others...in a relatively calm environment, he could pretty much just blink his eyes and have wings.  In a case like this, it was going to take some work.

So now, hanging from the leftover statue of a long-dead despot, Eddie closed his eyes, drawing in his inner clarity again.  He started to put the pain in his arms out of his mind, his fear over the situation, the sickness from whatever was in his system...all of it shoved away for one single thing.  Get back home.  Go back to Ophelia.  Back to Bladehenge.  Back to the people he lived and died for.  Ophelia.  Lita.  Mangus.  Ironheade.  He had to get back to them.  Couldn't stay here.  Had to get back.  Had to get back.  Had to.  Had to.  Had to-

"Well, I see you are finally awake, son of Succoria."

"Oh come on, man!" Eddie snapped, opening his eyes.  "I was trying to concentrate!"

It was a Warfather, one of the freaky gap-jawed demons that had been Doviculus's elite units.  He was flanked by what must have been the remnants of the force that had just attacked them at the Screaming Wall...only one nun, one Skull Raker, and a handful of Soul Kissers.  They were staying back, though, and the Warfather approached him, the height gained from his suspension enough to put him eye to eye, or whatever the demon had, with it.

"I hope you have found the conditions of your stay relatively comfortable, halfling," the Warfather said, getting right up in Eddie's face, reaching out to put one taloned hand to his temple.

Eddie decided not to even waste the sarcasm.  He flung his leg up and kicked the Warfather right in the lower hinge of his jaw, sending the tall beast staggering.  He knew it wasn't the wisest course of action, since he was completely at the demons' mercy, but he was at their mercy regardless of whether he fought back or not.  Might as well try to dislocate the ugly fucker's face before they killed him.  The Warfather moved to come back, and Eddie kicked again, drumming both feet across the ugly bastard's mug.  He went for another kick, but this time he got his ankles grabbed by the demon, and the Skull Raker moved up, taking hold of Eddie's legs and holding them to keep him from kicking anymore.

"Surely you do carry the most powerful traits of both your progenitors," the Warfather said, rubbing it's lower jaw, voice actually appreciative.  "Your father's human determination and your mother's vicious bloodthirstiness."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure it's not that I'm pissed that you fucking drugged me and strung me up like a pinata."  Eddie raised an eyebrow.  "Have you invented pinatas in this time yet?  I don't wanna be the first one, dudes."

"You have slain two of our emperors, halfling," the Warfather responded, fisting one paw as it spoke.  "Once through your birth, and once through your actions.  You have bound yourself irrevocably in our history...and we must truss you into it once more..."

Eddie rolled his eyes a little.  "Could you just hurry up and kill me?  I'm really not in the mood for your double entendres right now."

"Your death is not our desire," the demon responded.  It stepped in again, not worried about further attacks now that Eddie was being held down.  "You have cost us our emperors, and thrown our entire hierarchy into chaos.  We have to feel that you are too important to us to simply throw away through death."  The creature reached up, trailing the back of it's fingers along Eddie's cheek and jawline, ignoring the obvious revulsion from their captive.  "Far, far too valuable..."

"I'd bite you, but I think you'd enjoy that too much," Eddie growled, trying his best to wriggle away from the touch.

"We have need of you, son of Succoria," the Warfather continued, as it's hand moved from Eddie's jaw, to gripping at his throat, and it splayed the other over his sternum, pressing hard enough against it that Eddie felt suddenly breathless.  "Through you, the Coil shall rise again, it shall regain what rightfully belongs to it.  As humanity tried to liberate itself with the half-heart of a demon, so shall we replenish ourselves with the half-heart of a human."

"You better-!" Eddie started to threaten the beast again, but there was an odd scent, something like sulpher and burning meat.  For just a second, Eddie was sure the bastard was about to burn him alive...but glancing down, his eyes widened when he saw it was the demon burning...it's skin was glowing and bubbling, and he quickly felt the incredible heat himself...except it wasn't just against the demon's hands...he felt as though his veins were alight, like a fire was eating it's way through his insides.  He frantically renewed his struggles, trying to get free of either demon's grip, but they had firm hold of him. "Let go!  Get off!  What are you doing to me??"

"Do not struggle, son of Succoria..." the Warfather said.  "Your transformation may be painful, but you will come to love it."

"No I won't!" Eddie shouted, thrashing about as the heat soared...it was like liquid flame was rushing through him.  Now it wasn't just his veins, it was everything...his muscles, his bones, his skin, everything felt as though it was being poured over by acid.  He started to scream, a part of him honestly shocked that flame didn't shoot out of his mouth as he did.  At the same time, though, something was fast overlaying the heat...a sense, a presence, a...stark malevolent intruder, as though the purest essence of hatred was eating him from the inside out, trying to hollow him out, with intentions on just wearing his skin around itself, eating him and cauterizing whatever got left behind to support the empty shell that would be left-

All of it was over, just like that.  The heat and pain disappeared, the Warfather staggered back away from him with a choking sound, and Eddie found himself hanging once again...gasping, shuddering, sweating...but still whole, and still wanting to murder the hell out of the demons.  He would have felt more relieved if he weren't trying so hard not to puke.

The Skull Raker let him go and moved to try and help up the stricken demon, though apparently none of them were pleased.

"Why didn't it work??" he heard the nun screeching indignantly.  "You swore to us a new emperor!"

"I don't know," the Warfather was snarling back.  "I touched the pure demon inside him, there should have been a response!  But there is nothing!"  The Warfather turned an angry gaze to Eddie.  "The son of Riggnarok overpowers the son of Succoria.  The human weakness mars him too thoroughly."

"I could'a told you that," Eddie wheezed out.  "Saved us all a lot of trouble..."  He stopped, looking up in a bit of puzzlement, then around, turning his head as much as he could to look at the wall behind himself.  "I'm gonna guess you guys didn't plan this location out real well before you came here, did you?"

"He is no good to us!" the nun screeched, apparently ignoring him.

"Demons, seriously, did you really think through bringing me here to torture me?"

The nun wouldn't stop on her rampage.  "He is the slayer of our empire, the slaughterer of our children, and now you can't even use him to give us a new emperor!  The only thing left to do with this abomination is feast on his defiled flesh before our annihilation!"

Eddie looked back down, seeing the demons starting to close in on him.  "You know, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"And why would you say that, son of Riggnarok?" the Warfather hissed.

Eddie simply squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself...and from behind him, there was a rumble, then, with a tremendous screeching howl of noise and a burst of soundwaves, the stone wall exploded inwards with enough force to send the demons flying backwards.  Eddie found himself swinging back and forth on the end of the rope, but even with that, he couldn't keep the grin off his face at the sight of a team of Roadies, carrying their amps, standing in the now-gaping wall.

"Because my boys live here, you dumbfuck demons!" he yelled at them.

"Eddie, man, we heard you screaming, are you okay?" one of the Roadies asked, as another ran over, moving to put his amps under Eddie's feet.

"Here, stand up there and get the pressure off your arms, man," the second one said, as Eddie gratefully did so.

"Man, am I ever glad to see you guys," Eddie said, wincing from the ache as he lowered his arms...still bound together, but at least not supporting his entire weight anymore.  "Yeah, I'm fine, no thanks to those creeps."

"You just take a break, let us handle this," the first roadie said, as he and four more roadies charged the demons.  The screeching beasts lunged upwards, trying to come back at them, but the roadies were practiced at setting off their amps in a sequence, and they knocked the creatures back, practically herding them into a corner and battering them mercilessly against the stone walls.

"How'd you get into this mess?" the Roadie under his feet asked, looking up at him.

"Me and the rest of Ironheade were gathering off the Screaming Wall and got jumped.  These bastards popped me with something and I woke up here.  I just hope that-,"

"EDDIE!!"

He blinked, then turned his head back to the hole, seeing a handful of Headbangers there, who were now shouting to someone else.  "Hey, we found him, guys!"

"Oh, were you looking for me?" Eddie asked.  "I was just here."  He gestured vaguely, showing the leather straps.  "You know, hanging out."

After a minute, a few more members of Ironheade came running...and he heard a familiar voice that made him smile regardless.

"One side...one side!"  Lita pushed past everyone, amazingly enough with Ophelia right behind her, both of them looking frazzled and worried...but their faces went to pure relief when they saw him.  "Eddie!"

"Eddie!  You're all right!" Ophelia gasped out, running to the base of the amps, looking up at him.

"I'm good."  He glanced over at where the Roadies were still bashing the shit out of the demons.  "They might need a little help though."

Ironheade rushed forward to help, as Lita motioned to Ophelia, who nodded, cupping her hands and holding them out.  Lita stepped into them, and Ophelia threw her upwards, just high enough for Lita to swing her halberd and cut the leather binding Eddie to the statue.  He hopped down from the top of the amps, nodding his thanks to the Roadie that had held him up, even as the man ran forward to join the pummeling, then held his wrists out for Ophelia, who took her sword and cut his arms free...then immediately pushed into them, hugging him as tightly as she could.  "We were so worried about you...when we realized you were gone-,"

"Hey, don't worry.  I'm all right.  Nothing a hot bath and a couple beers can't fix."  He looked to Lita, grinning and holding out an arm, inviting her into the hug as well, but the queen of Bladehenge contented herself to merely stepping over and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're okay," she said, with a small smile and nod.

"What about everyone else?" he asked, shifting Ophelia to keep an arm around her and keep her close.

"Everyone's fine.  We had a few wounds, but Mangus is going with Killmaster and some of his men to go take care of them.  We can take you to see him too, if you need it," Ophelia was still looking him over worriedly, as though he were somehow hiding grievous wounds from her.

"Nah, I'm gonna be fine.  They tried to rough me up a bit but they didn't get the job done."

"What exactly did they do, though?" Lita asked, eyeing the set-up a little curiously.

"That can all be told on the way to Bladehenge.  We've still got a stage to repair."

Lita shook her head slightly...obviously not able to believe Eddie was able to think of the stage at a time like this...but she gestured that as soon as the rest of Ironheade was done killing this last dreg of demons, they would be on their way.

Description
The very first thing Eddie thought when he woke up was that he had the worst hangover he'd ever had in his life.

Now he'd had some pretty spectacular ones, both in this time and his previous one.  Working with the high profile bands he'd worked with gave him access to the depths of chemical experimentation, and though he'd never tried any hard stuff, he'd gotten into a little bit of everything else, and as a result had once in a while come to in conditions that were best described as "shitty."

However, alcohol had always been his intoxicant of choice, and landing in the age of metal had treated that particular indulgence well.  Even though he'd been here over a year, it still wasn't unusual for him to be struck by the occasional slap of intense vertigo at just how drastically his life had changed from what it had been...even as awesome as the change was, it was disorienting at the best of times.  To this day he would wake up at least once a month and be rather confused about what he was doing sleeping in a stone house under a blanket of fur with the most beautiful woman in the world (in his opinion anyway) next to him, and the queen of the whole country screeching at him and trying to beat down his door.  Adding a sensation like that to waking up with a beer headache made for some serious morning dizzies.

This was worse.  As soon as Eddie became aware, it was like he had a burning knife poked straight between his eyes.  His mouth was dry and had a weird, metallic taste to it, and his body ached as though he were on day three of a five-day flu.  He groaned softly, trying to force his eyes to open, even though they felt hot and dry as well.  Opening his eyes wasn't so bad, though, since at least the room he was in was fairly dim, but everything was weirdly fuzzy, like a Hextadon had shed all over-

Ah, no, vision was blurry, that was the problem.  Eddie would have loved to roll over in his bed and go back to sleep until the worst of this wore off.  ...if he were at home in his bed.  Which he quickly realized he was not.

After a couple seconds of getting his bearings, Eddie came to realize he was in an incredibly strange position for having just woken up.  It was like he was standing up, though his weight wasn't distributed right.  There seemed to be nothing under his feet.  He opened his eyes again, blinking rapidly until they had adjusted as much as possible to being back open.  He glanced around the room he was in, trying to take it in.  It was made of stone, the way most places were, but it seemed as though this place was more rubble than anything.  There were smashed bits of statues, ripped up cushions and shattered bits of glass and mirror along the floor.  With just a second's thought, he recognized the place...it was a room from the ruins of Lionwhyte's Pleasure Dome.  He and others from Ironheade had been trying to clean the place up to repurpose it for something else, but there was such a vast mess that it was taking them quite a long time.  This room didn't look as though it had even been touched yet.  Strangely enough, it also looked as though the floor was about ten feet below him, must've been one hell of a...

Wait.  The floor was ten feet below him.  Spatial disorientation had nothing to do with it, he was in full human form and yet hanging in the freaking air.  Eddie spent a split second being flabbergasted by this before his body finally decided it was time to fill his brain in on another detail, which was that his arms were raised over his head and sore as hell.  He looked up and confirmed that gravity hadn't abandoned him, but that his wrists were bound together in leather straps and he was suspended by them from an extended bit of one of the old statues.

"Oh shit.  This isn't good."  Eddie looked around the room again, tamping down an instinct to panic.  He actually saw his axe and Clementine leaning against the opposite wall, but that didn't help him here.  He gritted his teeth, looking back up and starting to strain against the bonds, putting as much strength into it as he could to try and break his way free, but all that succeeded in doing was causing more wrenching pain in his arms and shoulders.  He squirmed and thrashed a moment, but it was futile, even if he weren't in a bad position to work against it, the leather was too strong and thickly wrapped.

All right, then.  If he shifted to his demon form, he could use his wings to get up to the statue where the leather was secured and work it off the end of the extension, then cut his hands free on his axe.  He hadn't decided yet whether after that he'd choose the "run away" plan, or the "find who did this and decapitate them" plan, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

Eddie had needed to practice with his demon form to get to the point where he could control the change.  The first few times it had happened, it had been involuntary...it only seemed to happen when a large battle had broken out and he assumed that was the only thing that could bring it out of him.  Ophelia had been the one to convince him that he should try to learn how to change at will, and make use of the advantages that came with it.  At first, he hadn't been able to do it, no matter how hard he would work during skirmishes against leftover bits and pieces of the Drowning Doom.  He tried to get himself angry, figuring on the "Incredible Hulk" method (a method he had to find a new way to explain when mentioning the Incredible Hulk got him nothing but a bunch of blank stares from Ironheade).  That made him feel closer, but it still hadn't brought on the change.

Finally, as a last resort, he'd gone to see the Guardian of Metal.  The wise old creature knew secrets about nearly everything else, so it made as much sense to ask him as anyone.  The Guardian had feigned bafflement for just long enough to make Eddie feel uncomfortable before finally laughing and informing Eddie that he was surprised the roadie hadn't come to see him sooner.

According to the Guardian, Eddie's demonic form didn't need to be forced out somehow...just the opposite, in fact.  Humans were creatures of emotion more than demons were, he had said.  Sheer emotion couldn't be counted on to unleash a demon, it would take calmness and confidence.  Singular focus was necessary, having a goal and putting all your longing into it was the best way to do it.  Sure, the Guardian had admitted that pure unadulterated rage was one method to do it, though not foolproof, but the best way was just "singular focus" (the Guardian had repeated that phrase so many times during their talk that Eddie had given serious consideration to knocking him on the head) on any particular emotion or goal, no matter what it was...pure dedication to the task at hand.

Eddie had sort of thought that advice was pure bullshit, a "think happy thoughts" line of crap he hadn't believed when Peter Pan and Tinkerbell had preached it to his child-self either...but with some work, he'd discovered that, shock of shocks, the Guardian of Metal knew what he was talking about.  It was almost like meditation, in a way.  Find your center or whatever, and focus on the one thing you absolutely needed to happen, and the demon would come out to make it happen for you.

Eddie hadn't had a hard time putting a "singular focus" into his mind...the one thing he could always focus on: the dedication to his new family...Ophelia, Lita, Mangus, Ironheade.

He would never in a million years tell anyone that his demon side ran on what was essentially the power of friendship...he was sure he'd be razzed to the point of incoherence if he ever admitted to that...but he had it figured out, and he could break out his wings and extra bursts of power whenever he needed them.  Some times were easier than others...in a relatively calm environment, he could pretty much just blink his eyes and have wings.  In a case like this, it was going to take some work.

So now, hanging from the leftover statue of a long-dead despot, Eddie closed his eyes, drawing in his inner clarity again.  He started to put the pain in his arms out of his mind, his fear over the situation, the sickness from whatever was in his system...all of it shoved away for one single thing.  Get back home.  Go back to Ophelia.  Back to Bladehenge.  Back to the people he lived and died for.  Ophelia.  Lita.  Mangus.  Ironheade.  He had to get back to them.  Couldn't stay here.  Had to get back.  Had to get back.  Had to.  Had to.  Had to-

"Well, I see you are finally awake, son of Succoria."

"Oh come on, man!" Eddie snapped, opening his eyes.  "I was trying to concentrate!"

It was a Warfather, one of the freaky gap-jawed demons that had been Doviculus's elite units.  He was flanked by what must have been the remnants of the force that had just attacked them at the Screaming Wall...only one nun, one Skull Raker, and a handful of Soul Kissers.  They were staying back, though, and the Warfather approached him, the height gained from his suspension enough to put him eye to eye, or whatever the demon had, with it.

"I hope you have found the conditions of your stay relatively comfortable, halfling," the Warfather said, getting right up in Eddie's face, reaching out to put one taloned hand to his temple.

Eddie decided not to even waste the sarcasm.  He flung his leg up and kicked the Warfather right in the lower hinge of his jaw, sending the tall beast staggering.  He knew it wasn't the wisest course of action, since he was completely at the demons' mercy, but he was at their mercy regardless of whether he fought back or not.  Might as well try to dislocate the ugly fucker's face before they killed him.  The Warfather moved to come back, and Eddie kicked again, drumming both feet across the ugly bastard's mug.  He went for another kick, but this time he got his ankles grabbed by the demon, and the Skull Raker moved up, taking hold of Eddie's legs and holding them to keep him from kicking anymore.

"Surely you do carry the most powerful traits of both your progenitors," the Warfather said, rubbing it's lower jaw, voice actually appreciative.  "Your father's human determination and your mother's vicious bloodthirstiness."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure it's not that I'm pissed that you fucking drugged me and strung me up like a pinata."  Eddie raised an eyebrow.  "Have you invented pinatas in this time yet?  I don't wanna be the first one, dudes."

"You have slain two of our emperors, halfling," the Warfather responded, fisting one paw as it spoke.  "Once through your birth, and once through your actions.  You have bound yourself irrevocably in our history...and we must truss you into it once more..."

Eddie rolled his eyes a little.  "Could you just hurry up and kill me?  I'm really not in the mood for your double entendres right now."

"Your death is not our desire," the demon responded.  It stepped in again, not worried about further attacks now that Eddie was being held down.  "You have cost us our emperors, and thrown our entire hierarchy into chaos.  We have to feel that you are too important to us to simply throw away through death."  The creature reached up, trailing the back of it's fingers along Eddie's cheek and jawline, ignoring the obvious revulsion from their captive.  "Far, far too valuable..."

"I'd bite you, but I think you'd enjoy that too much," Eddie growled, trying his best to wriggle away from the touch.

"We have need of you, son of Succoria," the Warfather continued, as it's hand moved from Eddie's jaw, to gripping at his throat, and it splayed the other over his sternum, pressing hard enough against it that Eddie felt suddenly breathless.  "Through you, the Coil shall rise again, it shall regain what rightfully belongs to it.  As humanity tried to liberate itself with the half-heart of a demon, so shall we replenish ourselves with the half-heart of a human."

"You better-!" Eddie started to threaten the beast again, but there was an odd scent, something like sulpher and burning meat.  For just a second, Eddie was sure the bastard was about to burn him alive...but glancing down, his eyes widened when he saw it was the demon burning...it's skin was glowing and bubbling, and he quickly felt the incredible heat himself...except it wasn't just against the demon's hands...he felt as though his veins were alight, like a fire was eating it's way through his insides.  He frantically renewed his struggles, trying to get free of either demon's grip, but they had firm hold of him. "Let go!  Get off!  What are you doing to me??"

"Do not struggle, son of Succoria..." the Warfather said.  "Your transformation may be painful, but you will come to love it."

"No I won't!" Eddie shouted, thrashing about as the heat soared...it was like liquid flame was rushing through him.  Now it wasn't just his veins, it was everything...his muscles, his bones, his skin, everything felt as though it was being poured over by acid.  He started to scream, a part of him honestly shocked that flame didn't shoot out of his mouth as he did.  At the same time, though, something was fast overlaying the heat...a sense, a presence, a...stark malevolent intruder, as though the purest essence of hatred was eating him from the inside out, trying to hollow him out, with intentions on just wearing his skin around itself, eating him and cauterizing whatever got left behind to support the empty shell that would be left-

All of it was over, just like that.  The heat and pain disappeared, the Warfather staggered back away from him with a choking sound, and Eddie found himself hanging once again...gasping, shuddering, sweating...but still whole, and still wanting to murder the hell out of the demons.  He would have felt more relieved if he weren't trying so hard not to puke.

The Skull Raker let him go and moved to try and help up the stricken demon, though apparently none of them were pleased.

"Why didn't it work??" he heard the nun screeching indignantly.  "You swore to us a new emperor!"

"I don't know," the Warfather was snarling back.  "I touched the pure demon inside him, there should have been a response!  But there is nothing!"  The Warfather turned an angry gaze to Eddie.  "The son of Riggnarok overpowers the son of Succoria.  The human weakness mars him too thoroughly."

"I could'a told you that," Eddie wheezed out.  "Saved us all a lot of trouble..."  He stopped, looking up in a bit of puzzlement, then around, turning his head as much as he could to look at the wall behind himself.  "I'm gonna guess you guys didn't plan this location out real well before you came here, did you?"

"He is no good to us!" the nun screeched, apparently ignoring him.

"Demons, seriously, did you really think through bringing me here to torture me?"

The nun wouldn't stop on her rampage.  "He is the slayer of our empire, the slaughterer of our children, and now you can't even use him to give us a new emperor!  The only thing left to do with this abomination is feast on his defiled flesh before our annihilation!"

Eddie looked back down, seeing the demons starting to close in on him.  "You know, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"And why would you say that, son of Riggnarok?" the Warfather hissed.

Eddie simply squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself...and from behind him, there was a rumble, then, with a tremendous screeching howl of noise and a burst of soundwaves, the stone wall exploded inwards with enough force to send the demons flying backwards.  Eddie found himself swinging back and forth on the end of the rope, but even with that, he couldn't keep the grin off his face at the sight of a team of Roadies, carrying their amps, standing in the now-gaping wall.

"Because my boys live here, you dumbfuck demons!" he yelled at them.

"Eddie, man, we heard you screaming, are you okay?" one of the Roadies asked, as another ran over, moving to put his amps under Eddie's feet.

"Here, stand up there and get the pressure off your arms, man," the second one said, as Eddie gratefully did so.

"Man, am I ever glad to see you guys," Eddie said, wincing from the ache as he lowered his arms...still bound together, but at least not supporting his entire weight anymore.  "Yeah, I'm fine, no thanks to those creeps."

"You just take a break, let us handle this," the first roadie said, as he and four more roadies charged the demons.  The screeching beasts lunged upwards, trying to come back at them, but the roadies were practiced at setting off their amps in a sequence, and they knocked the creatures back, practically herding them into a corner and battering them mercilessly against the stone walls.

"How'd you get into this mess?" the Roadie under his feet asked, looking up at him.

"Me and the rest of Ironheade were gathering off the Screaming Wall and got jumped.  These bastards popped me with something and I woke up here.  I just hope that-,"

"EDDIE!!"

He blinked, then turned his head back to the hole, seeing a handful of Headbangers there, who were now shouting to someone else.  "Hey, we found him, guys!"

"Oh, were you looking for me?" Eddie asked.  "I was just here."  He gestured vaguely, showing the leather straps.  "You know, hanging out."

After a minute, a few more members of Ironheade came running...and he heard a familiar voice that made him smile regardless.

"One side...one side!"  Lita pushed past everyone, amazingly enough with Ophelia right behind her, both of them looking frazzled and worried...but their faces went to pure relief when they saw him.  "Eddie!"

"Eddie!  You're all right!" Ophelia gasped out, running to the base of the amps, looking up at him.

"I'm good."  He glanced over at where the Roadies were still bashing the shit out of the demons.  "They might need a little help though."

Ironheade rushed forward to help, as Lita motioned to Ophelia, who nodded, cupping her hands and holding them out.  Lita stepped into them, and Ophelia threw her upwards, just high enough for Lita to swing her halberd and cut the leather binding Eddie to the statue.  He hopped down from the top of the amps, nodding his thanks to the Roadie that had held him up, even as the man ran forward to join the pummeling, then held his wrists out for Ophelia, who took her sword and cut his arms free...then immediately pushed into them, hugging him as tightly as she could.  "We were so worried about you...when we realized you were gone-,"

"Hey, don't worry.  I'm all right.  Nothing a hot bath and a couple beers can't fix."  He looked to Lita, grinning and holding out an arm, inviting her into the hug as well, but the queen of Bladehenge contented herself to merely stepping over and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're okay," she said, with a small smile and nod.

"What about everyone else?" he asked, shifting Ophelia to keep an arm around her and keep her close.

"Everyone's fine.  We had a few wounds, but Mangus is going with Killmaster and some of his men to go take care of them.  We can take you to see him too, if you need it," Ophelia was still looking him over worriedly, as though he were somehow hiding grievous wounds from her.

"Nah, I'm gonna be fine.  They tried to rough me up a bit but they didn't get the job done."

"What exactly did they do, though?" Lita asked, eyeing the set-up a little curiously.

"That can all be told on the way to Bladehenge.  We've still got a stage to repair."

Lita shook her head slightly...obviously not able to believe Eddie was able to think of the stage at a time like this...but she gestured that as soon as the rest of Ironheade was done killing this last dreg of demons, they would be on their way.