From: MDIG8154@URIACC.URI.EDU (Mario Di Giacomo) Newsgroups: alt.comics.lnh Subject: NETRIGAN #0 Date: 25 May 1994 11:39:33 -0500 "Daemon: /day'mn/ or /dee'mn/ [from the mythological meaning, later rationalized as the acronym `Disk And Execution MONitor'] n. A program that is not invoked explicitly, but lies dormant waiting for some condition(s) to occur. The idea is that the perpetrator of the condition need not be aware that a daemon is lurking (though often a program will commit an action only because it knows that it will implicitly invoke a daemon)...Daemons are usually spawned automatically by the system, and may either live forever or be regenerated at intervals." -The New Hacker's Dictionary 10:45 PM, OCTOBER 31, 1993, URI COMPUTER LAB It was a dark night. It wasn't stormy, just dark. As per usual, most of the campus was awake, celebrating Halloween by getting completely and totally drunk. The strains of "Monster Mash" echoed through the empty lab. A shadowy figure shuffled over to the door. Several muffled curses later, the door was unlocked. The intruder quickly entered, shutting the door behind him. The room was lined with silent terminals, and a large drafting board. Soon, the figure had moved five terminals to the floor, stringing power and key- board cables in such a way as to form a rough five pointed star. As each screen was activated, more of the figure was illuminated, revealing a thin, red-headed male of approximately 25 years in age. As he worked, he muttered beneath his breath, "Eight years of college, and no work. Eight bloody years wasted, for a stupid piece of paper. Well, if this works, I won't have to worry about anything anymore." Pulling a small tape recorder from his pocket, and checking his watch, he started a countdown on each screen. At 11:59, he started the tape. The sound of chanting and drums filled the air, as he sat amidst the glowing terminals. At 12 midnight they turned on. There was a sudden flash of light, then silence. SOMEWHERE ELSE The young self-proclaimed mage awoke groggily, to find himself lying on an endless plain, marked out in giant squares. He looked around, but there was nothing to see. Just the grid. ~AH, YOU HAVE AWAKENED. GOOD~ He whirled, trying to find the source of the voice. No one was there. `The youth seems disoriented', a new voice echoed. ^This was to be expected^, a third voice replied calmly. Three great heads floated in the darkness above him. One was hooded, the second female, the third reminded him of Yul Brynner. "Who are you? Where am I? Am I dead?" ~WE ARE THE ELDER NET.GODS~ `You have broken through the Barrier' ^You are only here in spirit. Your physical body is still living^ He sat down with a thud, head in his hands, "I don't understand. What are you going to do with me?" ~YOU HAVE ENTERED A NEW PROGRAM~ `We have chosen you for a great task' ^You will be the guardian of Netrigan, the Daemon?^ "Wait a minute! I don't know what you are talking about! I don't want anything to do with this." ^It^ `is' ~DONE!~ A whirl of light approached from one side. Within it, he could see a winged figure with ram-like horns. The lights swirled around him, blinding him. ~DAMIEN CROSS, YOU HAVE THE POWER YOU DESIRED~ `But it come with a heavy burden' ^Do not malfunction^ He drifted off into unconsciousness, as a howling filled his mind. He awoke to find himself walking down Empire Road, downtown. A glance at his watch told him it was 12:01 AM. He'd no memory of leaving the lab, and it would have taken him 20 minutes to get here anyway. Did he dream the whole ritual? He stopped, trying to sort things out. "Hey buddy!" A cluster of locals had exited a diner. "Huh?" he replied brilliantly. "Are you OK? Can you get home?" one asked, eyes glittering. "I, um, sure, I've got enough money for a cab." The leader smiled, "Then you won't mind making a donation to us." Damien backed into an alley, followed by the three toughs. Moments later, his stomach met the leader's fist, which was followed by an upper- cut to the jaw. He sprawled out in the alley, as they searched his pockets. "No credit cards? Man, you..are..cheap!" the leader jeered, punctua- ting his words with kicks to the ribs. Gathering his cohorts by eye, he turned and left the alley. A sudden noise made him pause. "Like Pharoah's fate, And Noah's Flood. Your soul will drown, In Daemon's Blood!" The group turned, to see their victim stand suddenly, eyes glowing red. As they stared, great horns curled from his brow. "I must thank you sirs, For all your greed. My host now sleeps, And I can feed!" Passersby several blocks away heard the screams, and quickly moved on. A few hours later, the ensorcerelled figure walked into down the shop- ing district, peering at the window displays. In the glass, his reflec- tion showed a more human appearance. The hair was longer, marred by a white streak down the middle, and a shade browner then previously. His complexion, once deadly pale, now had a bronze glow reminscient of the Hindu. The horns had vanished, but as he grinned, the slightly longer than normal canines were evident. "They call me cruel. My tastes are vile. But this poor flesh, Has no sense of style. I'm free to roam, And won't forget, To build my strength, And take the Net!" He stood, as dark lightning flickered about his form. Soon, he was dressed in a black suit, accented by a red tie. A long coat of the same color was draped over his arm. "A better suit, To show my class. If they call me cute, I'll kick their a--" "What voice appears, within my head. My dark heart fills, With nameless dread." "Talk is cheap, Mortal fool. Deeds not words Decides who'll rule." The daemon staggered, and dropped to his knees. "My magic fails, My strength is gone. By what foul magic, Has this been done?" "Foul indeed, This Elder attack, But me, you'll need, and I'll be back!" The glowing eyes faded, and Damien stood. The changes to his body seemed permanent, and he could feel Netrigan raging behind his eyes. "I can't see why I'd ever let you out. Just your presence in my head gives me all the power I need. Sleep tight, Nettie. this was your last trip." Famous last words, indeed....