Issue Five of Eight

Episode 5:
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Cold Showers
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March, 2112
Gabe and Kirsten had moved to Azirona.

Where exactly? Well, come to think of it even they weren't sure.

But after the fiasco that occurred in the Police Station, and the murders that had struck the building that their shrink was supposed to be in, the two decided a bit of detachment from any other living human being was for the best.

So they packed up their stuff, brought extra provisions, and drove off to Fresno, stopping every so often to either refuel, refresh their energy or relieve themselves.

They arrived at Arizona soon enough. Their bodies were sweaty. Their lips cracked. Their mouths dry. And then it happened.

They felt their bodies surge with the heat of the desert.
They tasted the salt of their sweat grow sweet.
They danced with the throbbing of their bones and the swirling of their blood and before the music died, they were both on the desert sand, naked and spent.

Gabriel was staring at the moon above them, his tongue still dancing the remnants of the ballet of sweat which they had just finished. He pondered on why a month actually passed since their wedding and only now did they taste the apple offered by the union.

Kirsten on the other hand simply slept with a smile on her face.

April 1st week, 2112
The house was a three story tower. Reflector panels covered the Eastern wall while hanging curtains shielded the west from the heat of the sun's rays. The ground floor was the Living room, Kitchen and Dining hall. Kirsten would tend to roast her beef and toss the salads there.

The second floor on the other hand was a private den which Kirsten and Gabe shared every night (and at times, during the wee hours of the morning too) It was here their beds were laid down, and their clothes were kept.

The top most floor was their business area. From Kirsten's drafts to Gabe's paperworks, the third floor had the required calendar, multi- world time-wall clock, fax machine, computers and solar cells for electricity.

This was their wonderful tower hidden somewhere in the vast desert known as Arizona.

This was their dream house come true.

Their nest hidden from prying eyes.

And whether or not they knew, this was a beacon leading the Truth to their presence.

April mid of 1st week, 2112
He watched them from the mountain top. Although the distance He shared with Gabe and Kirsten rivaled the possible limits of human vision, He continued to simply gaze in their direction and still succeed in seeing each and very important detail. Well, important in His sense of the word.

His eyes suddenly seemed to have a life of their own as He found himself undecided as to whom to focus on. Though His deeper instincts called out to gaze at the half-naked Gabriel, whose sweaty body was exposed partially by the flailing curtain, He found himself with a sense of fascination as He watched Kirsten comb her hair and massage scented oils onto her body.

He stopped His clairvoyance and blocked out all distractions the of world that existed outside His body. He became rigid like stone, breathing stopped and eyes ceased their blinking as He closed off the world outside and focused instead on the world inside of Him. The world where He was still God, thrown from heaven into Earth, to feed on the lesser beings called lizards.

It was there that Wisdom was like a Fount of water, easily accessed with but a gulp. It was there that time was immaterial and did not concern anyone. It was a place where one could be sure of fulfilling one's duties, for no form of distraction existed unless wished.

Like a spiral, His mind began to dive inward. Deeper and deeper, He searched for answers to a question He'd dare not utter aloud. He swam in the Collective Unconscious, seeking for the answers. There he found plenty. So many that He just knew they were all mistaken.

So He drew Himself out of the spiral and decided to try an approach that had not been done before. He began to walk towards the tower.

April 4th week, 2112
Ruth Isthet approached the tower with a sense of urgency. She could not understand why she felt this undeniable need to be enroute towards the secluded home of Gabriel and Kirsten. Perhaps, if there was a reason, it was one that not even the Truth uncovers.

She ran onward, her legs, worn and red from exhaustion, continued their mechanical pace. One foot forward, the other pushing back, then vice versa. Repetitive. Accelerating. Coordinated.

Ruth glanced at her side and found the green gym bag still hanging beneath her arm. Its reflective texture had grown dull from the sand storms and heat of the desert. Inside its moss-like skin was the transparent badge of honesty. One to be worn only when the time is right.

She ran on. Her knees bloodied due to fatigue. The skin of her ankles nearly scrapped away. For although seemingly impossible, she had run three weeks across the desert landscape of Arizona without rest, food nor water to sustain her. Only the lingering faint scent of something in the air seemed to guide her. The pain grew with each stride, but so did the pressing need of the summons. She knew deep inside that she must reach the tower before the week ended. That was her role.

But who was the playwright of this drama she was in?

April end of 1st week, 2112
Gabriel and Kirsten were together in bed again. For the ninth time in the span of one week, the two were sharing each and every secret their bodies hid. It was paradise for them both. No annoying phone calls. No irritating city traffic. No bills to pay for (except for the expected satellite hook-up of the modem and fax which they both prepaid five months in advance.)

Their kisses signal the end of another beautiful moment shared with out end. And Gabe rises, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off his body. Kirsten on the other hand, rolls to one side and opens a small case.

But other than the occasional sand in the dinner dishes, sweltering heat beyond comfort and the argument as to who's turn it is to wash clothing (for as Gabe would always argue, "Why not just walk around naked? Its not like we're expecting any guests?") this was heaven on earth for the two.

"Gabe?" Kirsten asked as she was working on getting a pair of fishnet stockings on. Her latest work, Questioning Facts, had five female roles with very distinct personalities (well, that was what she wanted to achieve) and dressing up as the characters was what Kirsten believed would help her capture their personalities wholly. "What happened to your restaurant, by the way? Weren't you the manager of TGI Friday's Restaurant & Bar?"

"Oh, well, I'm on sick leave."

"For a month now?"

"Well, I'm the manager. And its not like anyone would complain. Nobody's checking anyway."

"Gabe," Kirsten smirked as she rose to a standing position, both fishnet stockings now wrapped around her legs like a second layer of skin. In one hand was the corset she planned Ericka, her character, to wear. In the other was a bunch of leathery straps and chains. "Are you sure you von't get into any trouble doing that," Kirsten suddenly asks in a French accent.

"Nah," Gabe replies as he takes a step towards Kirsten, "I got everything covered," and grabs a hold of her arms, "How about you?"

They kiss again, sharing a moment together, when suddenly Gabe hears a click that breaks the reverie. The moment he notices the handcuff snapped shut around his left wrist, another cuff on his right hand. Kirsten giggles as she squiggles out of Gabe's now handcuffed arms and clicks the two cuffs to each other. Gabe slyly looks at Kirsten, mouth agape, and mumbles, "You wouldn't..."

Kirsten looks at Gabe, "Honey p-ah-ie.. I vould," and pushes him to the bed.

"Kirsten!"

"Who?" Kirsten replies gleefully, "Name's Ericka, dearie..."

A slam on the door outside. Kirsten suddenly looks up at Gabe and waits. Gabe stops struggling and focuses on hearing what's going on. He could hear the wind outside. The heavy breathing of Kirsten. The click of the cuffs. The strain on the bed.

Another slam as the door flaps open and closes.

"Did you?" Kirsten whispers to Gabe. "No," Gabe replies, "I locked the door earlier. You?" Kirsten shakes her head and begins to dig for the keys to unlock the handcuffs. Her fingers zip into her pocket searching for the gun shaped key and instead finds a bit of string..

"Aw shit-"

"Kirsten, what?"

"The keys-"

"What about the-"

Another slam. "Someone or something is definitely down there," Gabe mutters, "Get these fucking things off me!" Kirsten began to thrash at the clothes in her case. She grabbed a few clothes, then tossed them away, hoping to see the key roll out of a pocket or drop to the ground. "Shit... its missing!"

"Kirsten!"

A pang on the metal staircase. Footfalls. The sound of something slithering on the steps as well.

"Grab the gun!"

"What gun?" Kirsten stares at Gabe, "Since when did we have a gun?"

"Its in the cabinet just behind that one. Near the socks! Hurry damn it!"

The footfalls were coming closer. Kirsten was half expecting to see someone enter the room already. Gabe began to tug at the cuffs. The chains held, but the bar of the bed the cuffs were linked to began to bend. "Just a bit more..."

"Got the gun!" Kirsten remarked as she pulled the archaic device out of its hiding hole. "What do I do with it!"

"Bring it to me!" Gabe replied, "I know how to use it!"

"Its almost here!"

"Kirsten!"

Kirsten suddenly saw a figure emerge from the staircase. Its flowing cape bellowed in the wind. Its clothes were drenched with sweat, releasing a musky aroma that seemed to awaken something within the two. His face was covered with a mask.

The mask.

"Oh my God!" Gabe remarked upon seeing the mask and fired in shock. The bullet lodged itself into the masked man's side. He immediately crumpled down like a doll that had been dropped. Kirsten ran to Gabe's side and noticed a glint on the bed. It was the key!

"Is He dead?" Kirsten asked as she reached for the key and fumbled with the handcuffs.

"I don't know," Gabe replied, his hand still held towards the man, his eyes watching for any movement. "He's the one who saved you... I think."

"But.. why'd you shoot Him?"

"I.." Gabe was unable to speak. He wanted to explain. To give some reason. But all he came up with sounded more like excuses: "I thought He was attacking you," or "Because He snuck into the house?" or "He was the cause of all this?"

The man did not stir from the ground. Both could see the blood that was slowly spreading on the floor. Kirsten looked at Gabe then rushed to the man. She bent to His side, then grabbed a hold of the mask and pulled it away. She saw He was still conscious and had tears running down his cheeks.

"Gabe, we have to help Him!" Kirsten announced. Gabe cautiously walked closer to the stranger, and upon seeing the pleading eyes, dropped the gun and rushed close.

"Are�are you alright?" Kirsten asked Him. No answer came, other than a fleeting glance with His eyes at Gabe. Gabriel rushed to the cabinet, pulled out a roll of cotton and a bottle of alcohol and returned, wondering how to help. Kirsten had already begun to remove His cape. Gabriel noticed that the vest and polo would require too much movement to remove. He rose, grabbed the pair of scissors nearby, and began to cut open the vest. Kirsten peered again into the man's face and saw the eyes partially open... though what emotion hid behind them she did not know. "Can you talk?" she asked Him.

"Yes.." he replied, with no difficulty or effort whatsoever. Gabriel stared at Kirsten then back at the man. "Are you hurt?"

"No," came the reply and the man proceeded to sit upright. Gabriel and Kirsten suddenly moved back as the man rose from the ground. His cape remained on the floor, but began to fold itself properly on the ground. The cut up vest fell down and crept beside the cape. The polo shirt remained open though, and hung on the man's shoulders, "Not anymore."

Kirsten stared at shock and peered past the man's polo. She saw the gunshot wound there, bloody and blackened, begin to close. When the polo moved a bit and broke her view, only then did she turn to face Gabe and grab his hand tightly to feel secure.

"What the hell.. Who..."

"Enigma," was the stranger's reply before passing out on the floor.

April 2nd week, 2112
"I can't believe we are having this discussion again," Kirsten annoyingly told Gabe as she walked about in the kitchen of their little flat in the middle of Arizona. Her hair was tied into a small bonnet, and her shirt was pulled back into her collar, lifting the front up to allow air in. The heat in the desert had risen tremendously. "We cannot just toss this guy away. And I don't care if he-"

"Is some stranger we never met personally? Is someone who has some remarkable healing ability yet is unable to stand on his own now? Is probably one of those METAs or god-knows-what out there in the world?"

"Gabe," Kirsten pointed the knife at him, bits of blue cheese still clinging on its tip, "He saved my life once..."

"And now he prowls into our home!"

"Didn't it ever occur to you that its possible he's here cause he needs our help?"

"Help?" Gabe exclaimed, "For a man... a masked man who can fly like some unbelievable balloon, heal a wound shot from a gun at point blank range, and cross the Arizona desert with no means of transport or food, why in the world would he need our help?"

"Have you ever thought of asking him that question?" Kirsten looked at Gabe with a commanding stance. Gabe picked it up quite quickly: This was no question... it was a command. The scent of oranges seemed to linger in the air.

"Oh no you don't.." Gabe commented, "I'm not going in there to�"

"For heaven's sake, Gabe," Kirsten blurted out, "Its not like he's a perfect stranger to you!"

"Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Gabe asked with a snarl. Deep inside he knew the answer. In fact, it had been something nagging him for quite some time. But some unspeakable fear had paralyzed him from attempting to bring the topic up. Perhaps a fear that he'd find out something he'd long denied? Or perhaps...

"Go and talk to him, damn it. You did dream of him before."

That struck a chord in Gabe. He stood from his stool, gave Kirsten a scowl (one she ignored with but a glance towards the microwave) and trudged towards the staircase. He reached into his pocket, searching for cigarettes and finding instead a small piece of paper. Glancing inside was a small note nearly destroyed from the recent washing: it was Dr. Ruth Isthet's number.

Gabe pondered whether or not to try and call her again. After all, he figured, it had been a few months since that fiasco. Perhaps she had reappeared or had been rescued. But his thoughts were interrupted upon hearing the sounds of shuffling upstairs. Glancing back, he saw Kirsten closing the oven, giving him a quick smile, then heading off towards the refrigerator. A scent drifted into the air, and Gabe found himself thinking of oranges. One step was followed by another, then another as he began to make his way upstairs towards the bed room.

Gabe felt the strong breeze emitting from the upper floors. He found himself wondering why the air was cool although outside one could see how hot the sun beat down on the desert. The scent of oranges fluttered around him again. Then a gust of heat blew on his face. Gabe's fingers fumbled on the shirt, unbuttoning the top two buttons. A sigh escaped him as the shirt opened, and a bead of sweat slid down his neck.

"What's going on here�" Gabe mumbled and shook his head. A heavy cloud seemed to hang around his head. Like a blanket of some sort, or perhaps a restraint. He shook his head again and held on to the railing, not wanting to faint or lose his balance while on the staircase. The world seemed to spin around him, although Gabe clearly felt his body was steady against the railing. He closed his eyes and tried to focus. Another step. He opened his eyes and witnessed his right foot take a step on its own. Something was controlling him?

His attempt to call out to Kirsten failed, and instead, he found himself heading up the staircase, with eyes beginning to moisten with tears from fear and his heart pounding with tension. The scent became overpowering and manifested as colored rings that swayed and bounced in the air. Most of them coiled around his head, then danced back towards its source: the man called Enigma.

"What are you.. what.."

"Micheal," came the Enigma's voice.

"Who? I'm not..."

"Come sit beside me," the Enigma called, and Gabe found himself obeying each and every word. Sit. Brush your hair back. Hold my chest. Kiss me...

Kirsten heard the small bell "ting" and checked the blue cheese sandwich she made herself. The cheese had spread the way she wanted it, clinging to the edges like struggling survivors of a ship doomed to sink. One sniff, then a pause upon noting something wrong. The scent of oranges was in the air. Blue cheese never smelled like oranges.

Kirsten walked towards the refrigerator and check the contents. There were no oranges, be it natural fruits or artificial flavored ones inside. Nor were there any on the table, the basket near the microwave or the trashbin.

A grimace showed her confusion, as the scent suddenly rose in intensity while she walked towards the staircase. She paused, closing her eyes and trying to find any forgotten or misplaced memories of purchasing some orange-scented air freshener before leaving for Arizona. Recalling none, she walked to the stairs and found herself hesitating before taking the first step up.

They were wrapped in an embrace that bared their bodies to each other. Gabe found himself feeling very different. Quite queer, if in fact one can excuse the term. He felt as if some transformation was taking place inside of him. As if something different had begun to grow.

A gentle hand fluttered onto his belly. Gabe swooned over the sensation, and bit his lower lip. A warm breath against the nape of his neck. A sweaty leg against his. He found himself trembling, but not due to fear. Instead due to excitement. And gratification.

The whole time, Gabe kept his eyes closed. Yet in this spiraling world of salt, sweat and heat, images shifted in and out of his mind's eye. He found a sense security just hovering beyond his perceptions. A feeling of protectiveness. A warmth that seemed to envelop and embrace him in tranquility.

"Michael," a voice beamed, gentle and coaxing, "Look at me..."

Gabe found himself turning his head, opening his eyes and finding the image of the Enigma lying behind him. He pondered the extreme calmness that overwhelmed him. He gasped again and tried to speak. Nothing came out his lips.

"Gabe?" Kirsten's voice called out from the lower floor.

A sudden shock snapped into Gabe and broke him free from whatever enchantment kept him calm and serene. Only then did he consciously realize that there he was lying naked on the floor with the stranger called Enigma. He found himself sweaty. He felt sick. The very thoughts of what possibly had happened was sickening to him. He saw the expression of the stranger change into utter surprise, and found himself filled with a fury unlike any other felt before. "What did you do to me?"

"Michael?"

"Gabe?"

Kirsten reached the top of the stairs and found Gabe sitting naked and sweaty beside the stranger. Shocked, she found herself unable to speak. Gabe rose from the floor and reached for her, unable to say a thing. The Enigma, on the other hand, picked up the mask on the ground and placed it on His face.

"What� what?" Was the first and only thing Kirsten said before her left palm slapped harshly against Gabriel's cheek. Gabriel felt the side of his face explode in pain, but continued towards the now crying Kirsten and grabbed hold of her wrists, "Listen to me! Listen to me�"

But Kirsten was frantic. Her eyes, wild and dazed, glanced back and forth between Gabriel and the Enigma. Her fingers arched, clawed-like, and sought to deliver pain. Her body convulsed, like a serpent struggling to escape the grip of a mongoose and strike, but as a snake eventually finds defeat in the fangs of the mongoose, Kirsten soon began to relax in dismay. "Kristen� Honey� listen to me� please�" Gabe continued repeating to her, like a mantra to relax her enraged spirit. The mantra seemed to work. Too well in fact for within seconds Kirsten was sitting on the floor as calm as a person who was about to fall asleep. It was then that Gabriel noted it in the air: the scent of oranges.

"You!" he snarled, facing the Enigma, who stood now, beside the bed with the mask on His face. The cape curled around Him, like a woman's pair of arms, and gave Him comfort. One hand was open, palm facing towards them, and from this palm danced those ring-shaped lights that fluttered about Kirsten's head. "You're the one who's doing this! You're toying with her mind just like you did mine! I don't give a shit how you do that but you better fucking stop, or I'll� I'll tear you up into little pieces with my bare hands!"

But the Engima simply waved His hand.

Gabe found himself overwhelmed with a sensation of calmness. And again, filling him from within, was that queer feeling.

"What... what do you want from me..." Gabe muttered with so much effort that by the time the words left his lips, he felt so exhausted that the Enigma's arms around him felt comforting. Felt right.

"You shall not leave me again, Michael Smith," the Enigma whispered into his ear.

"Why are you doing this to us?" Kirsten mumbled from the ground, her arms wrapped around her legs, in a fetal position, "What do you want from us?"

The Enigma stopped, as if unable to answer. He glanced at Kirsten, then closed his eyes. He began to change again, flesh and bone changing position, shifting mass and altering form until finally where He stood, She now existed. "What do you want from ME?" the Enigma asked in reply.

Kirsten stared at the ENIGMA and found herself drawn to the woman. She gasped and felt the emotional walls deep inside of her crashing open. The blocks and defenses that had taken so long to build, to hide away a fact that was never to be seen, were broken down so gently, that the trauma was not harsh enough to leave even scars.

"What do you want from ME?" the Enigma asked Kirsten again.

Gabe felt himself being lowered gently to the ground. When the cool touch of the floor reached his body, he became aware that he was beside Kirsten. But neither of the two reached for each other.

"What do you want from ME?" the Enigma asked them both.

"If we ask, will you grant it?" Gabe asked, the coarseness of his voice beginning to grow. For some reason, he felt a strength rising from within. One he didn�t know how to explain, or what fueled it. "And what do we end up having to give you?"

The Enigma glanced at Gabe and shook His head, "I merely wish to give you what you want. You are Michael Smith. I exist to make you happy."

"I'm not Michael Smith! My name is not-"

"You are," the Enigma replied and the sensations within Gabe changed from strange to painful. Gabe screamed and began to struggle to rise from the ground. The ring-like lights danced chaotically around Gabriel and began to spin faster and faster, dipping deep into his body and rising without a sound. Kirsten broke from her reverie upon hearing Gabe's screams and grabbed a hold of her husband. In her very arms, Kirsten witnessed Gabe transform. He changed, both in features, in height, in weight... in body... into some man she had never seen before. "Gabe! What is happening to you? Gabe!"

And when the lights faded away, and fluttered back towards the Enigma's hand, Kirsten found herself staring at a man she had never before seen. The tears surged and the terror began to rise. Two words danced repeatedly in Kirsten's lips, "Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God"

"His name is Michael Smith," the Enigma explained, or perhaps merely announced to her, "Now, what is it do you want?"

Kirsten looked at the Enigma, pain in her eyes. She felt anger rising. But fear broke through and before she could release the rage, she fell down to her knees and began to cry.

The Engima asked again, "What do you want?" The cape began to fall and revealed the Enigma laid bare. Her curves. Her angles. Her secrets which the light of truth never reaches. Kirsten found herself staring at Her, the Enigma, and feeling a mixed emotion of anger and desire.

"I'm not-" her voice faltered.

"What do you want?" the Enigma repeated, as She walked towards Kristen. Kirsten began to creep backwards, not wanting this stranger any closer. But the Enigma reached her and held her close and she found herself staring into the Enigma's lips.

"I'm not..."

"What do you want?"

And breaking the stillness was the voice of Michael Smith, speaking out with the determination that welled inside of Gabriel Brendan. With the change came realization, and with the realization came an understanding. Four words were all that Michael Smith could muster. Four words were all that Gabriel Brendan could find the strength to say. But these four words were enough. These four words made the Enigma stop in its tracks and granted Kirsten a chance to run away.

"I want the Truth."

And now the Truth shall come.
For the Enigma to end once and for all..

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End Issue Five

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LETTERS! Tobie, I'm really digging your work on Enigma. It's only one of my favorite DCF reads. Don't feel bad -- I get very, very few letters, myself. I think everyone's just too darn busy writing stories to writer letters. :) Plus, "The eNigMa Grows" is a hard book to write about. It works on so many different levels, and is so different from the other DCF books. I can tell you that I'm only getting more intrigued as the series passes, and that the ending of issue #4 -- "And the Enigma grows." -- sent a chill up my spine. The Truth makes a great villain. Because there's some truth that every single one of us, I think, runs away from. It's simple human nature. I look forward to seeing what secret is being held back from Gabe... -- Jason T. ~~~~~~~~~~ Nice to hear you like the story so far, Jason. In fact, you are the first person to send me a letter concerning the ENIGMA grows. Because of this, I shall find a way to thank you. Perhaps this would be either in a later issue or in the soon to be released a different SHADE: the changing man. ~~~~~~~~~~ The Enigma Grows #4 was a very disturbing and unsettling dive into the world of psychological horror. There's enough blurring of reality here to make the reader uncertain as to what is exactly going on, which helps add to the disorientating effect. The reader is left feeling uncertain, curious, and, most assuredly, left with the knowledge that what we might think of as reality may very well be the case. Interesting protagonists, strong characterization and a strong grasp of the ability to unsettle a reader makes The Enigma Grows a very powerful read. nice work, Tobie. Bring on issue #5. Daniel Ben-Zvi ~~~~~~~~~~ Again, thank you Daniel for this letter. I am quite touched that there are existing readers of the title and that many find the title deep and yet not too obscure as to frighten away readers. ihope I deliver well though, and meet all of your expectations (if not surpass them.) ~~~~~~~~~~

Enigma was originally published by Vertigo,a trademark of DC Comics. Others, if any, are not mentioned as a challenge to the said owners nor as an insult. The author of this fanfiction assumes NO ownership over the comic character ENIGMA. All other characters are created by Tobie Abad. This page is not intended to challenge or claim ownership of the character ENIGMA which is copyright of DC Comics.

Written by Tobie Abad [email protected]
Comment and reactions are welcome! In fact, appreciated!

Read the next issues of The Engima Grows .