Intermission: End of the Beginning

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" Crucible exclaimed as Frenchie dropped a huge stack of Cousins subs on the counter. The Roughnecks had assembled around the central island in the kitchen while they waited for Phantasm to complete her 'interrogation' of what was left of Mysterio. More than half the pile of sandwiches had been devoured before the ancient sorceress' ghostly form ascended through the tile floor.

Do not allow me to interrupt your victory feast. I shall convey to you all what I have learned from Mysterio as you revel.

Taking the group's failure to respond with anything other than loud munching sounds as general agreement, Aneksi continued on to her report.

The blast created by the rejoining of the Nexus and the Phoenix seems to have rendered Mysterio... irreperably damaged. I am afraid much of his mind is shattered, but there remain some recent images and memories that I was able to recover that are quite informative. I shall summate.

Mysterio's given name is Ludwig Willem Rinehart, and he was a trained psychiatrist. He was also a very talented technologist, which is how he became the masked villain named Mysterio. His known aliases include the name Quentin Beck.

After Malpractice, Fenris and Crucible captured him and turned him over to SHIELD, he was imprisoned in an ultra-max detention facility, and in the confusion caused when another prisoner was being extracted by her villainous compatriots, Mysterio also managed to escape.

He returned to New York City, where he sought out Nemesis, whom as you recall had been his most recent employer. He believed she still owed him money for his attempted assassination of our group... so petty...

He found her former lair unoccupied, and went about claiming it for his own ends. It was at this time that he settled upon the schemes that he would use to obtain the wealth he so craved, all of which involved various forms of theft. Unsurprising, really.

Dr. Rinehart was able to falsify documents and bribe certain officials to be able to resume work as a Psychiatrist. It was his intent to pose as a high-end therapist and use his technological powers to persuade various well-to-do, private paying clients to give him money.

It was also during this scam that he accidentally came across a recently homeless teenaged orphan that had been referred for psych evaluation. His colleagues were mildly surprised when he agreed to do the evaluation, as she had no money.

What Dr. Rinehart had actually done is discovered through use of his own version of the Gadget that the girl, who called herself Mary, possessed superhuman capabilities. I was not able to ascertain how exactly he did this, but given his technological prowess, he may well have copied its design while it was in the possession of Nemesis.

As part of his operation, Dr. Rinehart had also used his fraudulent credentials to gain access to some sort of prominent social club that he had learned of from his 'clients.' This social club includes many of the most reputable scientists, industrialists and financiers in the tri-state area. From what I have seen, the casual members include such noteworthies as Anthony Stark ... and Henry McCoy. I have also seen the image of Lady Selene at these meetings. I do not know the significance of this last revelation.

"So, Hank and Stark hang out with a bunch of big-shots?" Axl mumbled through mouthfuls of a club sub. "No surprise there. But what about Selene? You guys think there's any cause for concern?"

"Well, if nothing else, we know how to keep tabs on her if we need to. We just have to find out more about this club," Malpractice interjected. "You guys think she's a threat to us right now?"

"Good question. She was looking for a coven of three 'witches' before," Fenris said thoughtfully. "One's an Avenger now, one is probably in some other dimension, and Liz... well, Liz has got Shaman, and the rest of us, for backup, if she needs it. So that's probably a dead end, but I bet Selene's still pissed about it."

"And her alliance with Nemesis didn't end well, either," Crucible added. "So, yeah, she's probably gonna come gunnin' for us somewhere down the road."

I know the aura of Aquilia Severa better than any other. If she draws near, we will know.

"Yes, Aneksi, we shall remain ever vigilant," the demon intoned. "The harlot will rue the day she assaults us."

"Okay, then," Axl said. "So she's just one more name on the list of people who either want us dead or in prison."

Grim laughter broke out around the table as the Roughnecks tore into their feast with renewed gusto.

"What about Mysterio?"

Perhaps it would be best if we returned what remains of Dr. Rinehart to General Talbot and the United States Government, now that SHIELD is no more?

"Oh, no, no, no that won't be necessary," Malpractice blurted out suddenly, unable to hide his excitement. "I, ah... well. I am a doctor after all. I will take good care of my esteemed colleague. Rest assured."

The others stopped chewing and looked at each other doubtfully. Even Mysterio didn't deserve such a fate.

"Right," Crucible muttered, standing up and pulling out his cell phone. "I'll call Talbot's people at the contact number he gave us and arrange for a drop, ASAP..."

Although visibly disappointed at a missed opportunity, Malpractice shrugged and reached for the last philly cheese steak before Fenris could demolish it first.


          *           *           *           *           *

The Sorceress Supreme of Limbo had felt the multiverse shift under her the moment the entity was born... or reborn, more accurately. She had been reeling for some time afterward, but she had now fully regained her senses.

Many years had passed in Limbo since she had last cast her gaze back to her home plane of existence, even though only months of time had passed there, by comparison. It was also many years gone by that she had overthrown her predecessor and took up his place. Her innate strength had proved too much for the former Sorceror Supreme of Limbo, for her lineage was ancient and fell. It was on the very day she overthrew Belasco and became Sorceress Supreme that she first realized she could sense even the slightest ripple in the cosmic balance.

And the re-emergence of the Phoenix had just hit her like a tidal wave.

Other beings of great power would have taken notice of this event, just as she had. Their focus would quickly turn to her home world, where the reborn entity had manifested. They would want to know why it was the earth that had spawned the Destroyer of Worlds back into the multiverse.

The Sorceress Supreme grew increasingly worried- she still had family on earth... her brother...

The attention of other cosmic beings and advanced civilizations would also soon progress to action. Asgard. The Kree. The Xandarians. The Shi'ar. Perhaps even the Mad God. Their competing interests would only accelerate as each sought to harness the power of the Phoenix Force to their own ends, putting the lives of every human being in jeopardy.

She reached out inquisitively to find the Phoenix and to see this new creature for herself, only to recoil in surprise.

The entity had bonded itself to the dying girl that had been sacrificed on an altar the night she herself had first fallen into Limbo so many 'years' ago. It was she who had pushed the girl's lifeless form back toward the earth dimension as they fell, and yet, something very powerful had intercepted the body as it slipped through the space between spaces.
She had always thought the other girl's body had simply been lost, but she knew now that this was not so.

Ilyana ran her fingers over the carved runes set along the edges of the very same altar in the place where it now rested in her throme room. The altar was made of a rough, mystic stone the Atlanteans of her home world called 'orichalcum.'

A very, very long time ago, this particular piece of orichaclum was a bridge between worlds. Unfortunately, the world to which it led had been a hellish pit. The enchanted stone had served as a direct link between this dimension and the fallen Atlantean city of Lemuria.

As she ran her hand over the smooth stone, a dark thought enterd her mind. What part had the Sorceress Supreme of Limbo played in the rebirth of the Phoenix? What measure of fault did she now carry? Could war erupt across the multiverse as a consequence? Unlikely, she thought to herself. Lust for power would drive events, not assignment of blame.

"S'ym," she commanded. Her servant appeared before her, awaiting instruction. "It is your charge to observe the Phoenix for so long as it tarries on the earth. Go there now. If any come to the earth in force to challenge the entity, inform me at once. If the entity leaves the earth or its star system, follow it, and inform me at once."

Ilyana Rasputinov's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"If it's darker nature stirs at any time... inform me at once."

          *           *           *           *           *

Mary Jane Watson looked out from where she stood to the horizon beyond. The earth looked so small from this vantage point, so lonely against the endless backdrop of the eternal void.

Did she belong there, any more, she wondered? Was it still her home?

She gently ascended from the surface of her world's lone moon, careful not to disturb its surface any more than she already had. Below her was the grave she had made for Peter Parker, her true love, who had died even as she was fully reborn. She looked longingly at the remote blue orb.

She drifted slowly back toward the earth, but well before she reached its atmosphere, a thought crossed her mind.

She could never expel the power she felt surging inside of her. She could never cast it away so that only she would remain. She could never have her life back again, and in the end... even though the earth was once her home, could she ever truly go back?

If not earth, then where was home now? She gazed once more beyond the outer rim of her world and into the beckoning void. She had been born a child of the earth, but was reborn a child of the stars. Hers was to be the wanderer's path.

In a brief, flashing streak of light, the Phoenix left everything she knew behind, to traverse the endless track of the universe faster than the speed of human understanding, in search of her purpose.


          *           *           *           *           *

"Look, a shooting star!" Some lovesick fool exclaimed behind her. "Make a wish!"

Gwen Stacey felt ill. She's just lost what little taste she'd had for the latte she had been sipping while she waited. They had no idea what was in store for them... She sighed. She hadn't always felt this cold inside. It was only a phase. She knew at some point the pain of her betrayal would go away.

"It wasn't betrayal, girl," a stern, feminine voice said from somewhere nearby. "At least not in the manner you think."

A tall, elegant woman stepped from the evening crowd and sat across from her at the small table. She was black-haired and vaguely menacing.

Almost immediately thereafter, a stocky, bespectacled fellow and an older, distinguished gentleman also joined her.

"Good evening," The older one said. "You may call me White King. And we are members of a very discr-"

"What Sebastian is trying to tell you," the woman said, interjecting impatiently as she leaned forward. "Is that each of us here have certain gifts, just as you do. We move through the world, making things happen that must, and preventing things from happening that must not. We wish you to join us in this purpose."

Gwen liked this woman. She got right to the point.

The professorly type smiled to himself as the other two talked. She didn't know what was so amusing.

"I don't know any of you," she replied. "The weird lady I met in the park last night said I should come and meet some people at this cafe who wanted to talk to me. And look, she was really, REALLY weird, okay? But for whatever reason she seemed to make sense. So here I am and now there are even more really weird people. I don't know why I'm still here."

The smiling professor decided to join in at last.

"Gwendolyn," he began. "May I call you Gwen? Wonderful! Well, Gwen, I am called Black Bishop, and as it currently stands, we now have a need to replace our recently... resigned... White Bishop. You see, each of us is like a significant piece on a chessboard. Only on our board, there are only few of us, but an amost limitless number of pawns. Do you play chess?"

When she nodded, he continued. "Excellent! Then I think you willvunderstand who and what we are."

"So you're not, like, the Avengers? Scarlet Witch is pretty cool."

The woman frowned, while the gentleman smirked. The professor shook his head. "Too small. They react when things happen. We do not react. We are the reason things do or do not happen in the first place. With us, you could achieve so much more than they ever could."

"I'm still not interested," she said, clearly tensing. After a moment of silence, he continued.

"I think I might have something else that would interest you," he said to her. "The young man you fancied, Peter was his name, wasn't it?" When she nodded suspiciously, he continued. "Our friend in the park whom you've already met did a little searching, and, well, I'm afraid Peter is dead..."

"What?!"

"A very powerful, very dangerous, person was directly responsible for his death. This same person is someone whom we have been very concerned about for quite some time, you see. And with Peter's death, our concerns have proved to be well placed. She must be dealt with before any more innocents die. Will you help us in our endeavors?"

Several more long moments passed in silence. The bustling night time crowd continued to pass along the sidewalk cafe, hundreds of strangers coming and going, all while she considered the offer. White King sipped occasionally from a glass of white wine as the time slowly wound on.

At long last, Gwen reached a decision.

"White Bishop?" She asked disappointedly, looking out at the crowd as the people passed by randomly.

She looked back at the dark haired woman and said, "What's she called?"

"She is the Black Queen."

"Queen?" she asked approvingly. "That's way better. Do you have another Queen, a White Queen?"

The professor shook his head.

"Well, you do now."


          *           *           *           *           *

Michael Twoyoungman had been up all night reading texts in the basement of the museum. When Jean Grey walked in, carrying a cup of coffee in each hand, he barely noticed.

"How about a cup'a Joe?" she said, pasing it to him. "If you're not planning on quitting any time soon, you'll need the pick-me-up."

"Yeah, you're right," he relied. "Thanks. And thanks for letting me stick around after close to go through this stuff."

"My pleasure." she said. "I haven't seen you in years. Besides, it was your recommendation that helped me get my foot in the door here."

"Well," he said, laughing, "You managed to stay Liz's roommate for all four years at Columbia. It was the least I could do."

After they shared another laugh, Jean took a closer look at what he was reading. "You know, I am interested in all this stuff because it's my job. Why do you want to flip through these dusty old relics?"

Jean missed the knowing smirk as it briefly flitted across the mystic shaman's face. "A hobby. A passion, really" he replied, only half lying.

"Well, I figured as much. You know, now that you say that, Lizzie once said you were into collecting occult curiosities, but I honestly thought she was just joking. Find anything interesting?"

"Heh, no, not since you showed me the Lemurian bas-relief upstairs in your office."

"Or at least not until I came across this particular item," He said slowly, his brow furrowing deeply as he reached the end of the particularly large tome he was examining.

"Hunh, this doesn't make any sense."

"What's that?" she asked, sipping her quickly cooling coffee.

"Well, this is clearly a very old grimoire, a book of powerful magical incantations," he said, not pausing as Jean laughed out loud at his preposterous statement. "But there is also a lineal tree in the back."

"The line only tracks maternally, and it ends down there, in three separate branches." He pointed toward the bottom of the page. But there is a particular footnote... here," he said as moved his finger to a spot a short way up the page.

"So? The 'grimoire' is written in Russian. I can't read Russian."

"I can't read it too well, myself, but I can still deciper the footnote and I know the cyrillic characters that spell out the names at each of the three ends of the tree."

"Okay, and? So what, there are several footnotes on the tree, by the look of it."

"As I mentioned, the lineage is tracked maternally, but this footnote makes reference to someone named Piotr Vasyliev, a Russian trapper and mountain man who came for the Yukon gold rush and stayed to settle down with a local Anishinaabe girl. See here," he said, pointing back to where the footnote appeared in the tree. "Irinia was his mother's name, and Minwadiizi was his daughter's name," he explained, moving his finger along names in the branch closest to the center crease of the grimoire.

"Okay?" she said, still not tracking.

"It's the three names at the end of each tree... they were all born on the same day of the year, the winter solstice, nine years apart."

He pointed to each name at the end of the branches in sequence, beginning from the left.

"Ilyana Rasputinov. Born December 21, 2007."

"Wanda Maximov. Born December 21, 1998."

Neither name meant anything to her. On the last he started higher up the tree, at the spot marking the footnote he had just explained, "Irinia Oleksandrovna Vasyliev- Minwadiizi Piotrovna Vasyliev- Margaret Irinia Nishiimi-" he paused as he reached the end of the third branch, and looked up at her. " Elizabeth Irinia Twoyoungman, born December 21, 1989..."

"Elizabeth Irinia Twoyoungman?" Jean stared at him blankly. "Lizzie?"

"How long has this book been here?" He asked her.

"I don't know, exactly," she said, confusion and doubt clearly etched in her expression. "It was locked untouched in storage for years, decades probably. It was covered in dust when i pulled it out sometime before the exhibit. But, wait, Lizzie is in there? How is that even possible?"

"I have to get ahold of Axl. I hope he's still here in New York," he mumbled, the concern in his voice unmistakable. He pointed at the top of the tree. "The name at the top of the line. This is her line... how can this be? It's all just a legend."

"I still don't understand, Michael."

"The name at the beginning of the line, it goes back almost a thousand years.. it says 'Grandmother Fury...' "

"Which is...?"

"Baba Yaga, Jean. The first name on the tree is Baba Yaga."

(published July 16, 2015)

Episode 10: Reborn

The Roughnecks began their final assault on the lair of Mysterio. They followed a series of secret tunnels below central park to the place where the goddess Nemesis had recently laired. They followed an unused railroad track to a long abandoned station, and forced their way through reinforced steel doors, not realizing that somewhere above them, the amazing SPider-Man had just detected the presence of someone he believed he had lost forever and was headed right for them.


As they entered the first antechamber, each hero was engulfed in a nightmare realm of his or her own making. Little did they know just how far in mortal danfer they now stood, as Mysterio was using the power of the Nexus Apparatus he had constructed to amplify his own considerable might in order to fuel his illusory death trap.


Each hero began his journey waking alone at the end of a long, narrow hallway with only Mysterio standing before a single door at the end. In each hero's mind, they simultaenously heard Mysterio taunt them. "Come and get me!" he said as he stepped through the doorway and closed it behind him.


Making their way down the hallway, each hero faced a series of random deadly traps- the 'buzzsaw corridor,' the 'paralyzing portcullis,' the 'terrible tumbler,' and the dread 'blade storm!'

No hero emerged unscathed from this gauntlet, but all made it through the doorway at the end of the passage. As they passed through, each fnext ound themself in a large underground chamber, face to face with a dire shadow in the form of a foe from their past.


Fenris faced a silver wielding Kraven the Hunter, while Crucible faced Nemesis, Sabanion faced Ghost Rider, and Phantasm faced Lady Selene. Once again, however all the heroes overcame their opponent, and once more passed through a doorway.


The heroes awoke from their nightmares lying prone and battered before the triumphant Mysterio in the middle of his laboratory-lair. Although the trials and travails existed only in their minds, the results were only too real. They were all as battered and bloodied as they had been in their dreams. On Mysterio's left stood his protege, Bloody Mary. And on his right was a strange, glowing orb resting on a pedestal. Mysterio's hand rested on the glowing orb, extending its aura around him so that he, too, glowed with an otherworldy radiance.


As Mysterio gloated over them and began monologuing about realizing his supreme plan for revenge on all of them, the interpid Spider-Man burst onto the scene.
The momentary distraction led imediately to battle, as Mysterio commanded Mary to destroy the wall-crawler once and for all.

"Oh yes, Peter Parker, not only do I know who you truly are, but I also know you have recognized Mary Jane Watson, who stands before you now," he shrieked. "She mine, and she shall be the instrument of your death!"


Mysterio then attacked the awakened heroes, who were able to battle him to a standstill, even in their badly weakened conditions.


As Mary and Spider-Man fought each other, she gravely wounded him, and in the act of mortally wounding her former lover, Mysterio's hold over her was broken.
"Finish him!" Mysterio screamed in vain, as Mary Jane moved toward the Nexus. "No, NO! do not touch that, girl!"


This bauble is not yours, fool. She said, her voice taking on an otherworldly resonance. It contains but a sliver of a power that no mortal may control unbidden. And I reclaim what is mine!


As Mary Jane touched the Nexus, the globe exploded, bringing the room down on all their heads and casting the entire chamber into darkness.


A moment later, as the heroes began to slowly climb their way out of the rubble of Mysterio's lair, the room was suddenly bathed in the soft light of a fiery aura. Mary Jan Watson hovered before them, wreathed in flames.


Behold, I have arisen and once again am made whole! I am Phoenix, and the universe trembles at my rebirth!


She looked down sadly at the broken forms of Mysterio and Spider-Man.


Truly, the universe is cruel, she said, looking up at the battered Roughnecks. Evil lives to spread its misery again, and the hero falls, never to rise.


Phoenix gently reached down to lift up the form of the fallen Spider-Man, drawing him to herself.


I shall contest mistress Death herself for the soul of this one, if I must, so that he too shall one day rise again.


She turned her gaze once again to the heroes.


It is all of you who were present at the moment of my death, and it is all of you who are present at the moment of my rebirth. I will not forget the part you have played in my saga, Roughnecks, and I bid you good fortune in the battles to come.


The reborn Phoenix then vanished in a whirl of clelestial fire, once again leaving the room in near darkness, with only the smoldering form of Crucible shedding a dim light amidst the wreckage.



(published July 16, 2016)

Night at the Museum

"Ah, c'mon now, Jeannie," he said.  "This is the sort of offer you're never gonna get again."  He leaned back and looked around at the artifacts in her office.

"But I guess if mouldy old Egyptian gods and creepy looking birds are more your thing..."



"Hank..." Jean Grey replied looking at him uncertainly.  "That is you, right?"



"Yeah, it's me Jeannie.  What, you don't like this look?"



"You're so...  blue," she stuttered, "... and... and furry."



She looked over at the blonde woman sitting next to him.  She was dressed like a ninja, or some such other thing straight out of an eighties video game.  The woman had cold, hard eyes.  Eyes that had been boring into her since they'd dropped in unannounced.



"How did you even get in here?"



"Well, for starters, we didn't come in through the front doors.  At midnight, the front doors ain't even open, are they?"



"No, but I work late all the time.  I know there are security measures.  What about the guards? They're all over the place once the doors shut for the night. And the alarm systems..."



The blonde woman laughed out loud.



"High school dropouts?  Motion sensors?  In this day and age?"



Jean couldn't place the woman's accent, but she could certainly place her sarcasm.



"Now, now, Raven, be nice" Hank said to the woman fondly.  "Jeannie's an old friend.  No need to be harsh.  Plus, we're askin her to join up with this thing of ours. We wanna make a good impression."



"I'm a scientist, Hank,"  she said quietly.  "Not... not whatever you are.  Just a scientist."



"That doesn't sound like a yes."



Jean reached under her desk and got hold of the pipe wrench she'd left after fixing the bathroom sink this morning.



"What if it's a no?"



"How dare you!" the woman hissed, reaching for something inside the folds of her ninja-gi.  Hank put a massive hand over hers, stopping the woman from drawing the death ray or whatever it was Jean imagined might be concealed in that ridiculous getup.

"Are you threatening me?" Jean growled in response.  She pushed herself away from the desk and jumped up, brandishing the large wrench over her head menacingly with both hands.



"whoah, whoah, WHOAH!" Hank blurted out, holding his hands up in front of him. "No need for any rough stuff, tiger.  'Just a scientist,' huh?" he said with some amusement, popping up from his seat and forcefully helping his sidekick across the room toward the window.  "Okay, well, time to go.  Yep, time to go.  So anyway, think about it Jeannie. We need someone with your expertise.  For all the crazy stuff that's coming in the future, I could really use the help of someone with a keen mind for the events of the past. You don't have to make your mind up tonight.  The offer stands until you do say yes... or no."



He slid the glass open to the chill, December night.  At his prompting, the woman named Raven climbed up onto the sill first.  With a last, menacing glare back at the red haired archaeologist, she slipped over the edge and dropped from sight.



"You probably don't want to tell anybody about our visit," he said offhandedly, hopping up onto the broad sill.  "I don't think anyone would believe you.  But even if they did, well, they won't find me.  Plus I'd be really disappointed.  We've been friends for so long, afterall."



"By the way, what is that thing over there?"



"What?  Where?"



"That. Over there.  The metal-magma slab hanging on the wall with the weird writing on it."



"That?  It's a bas-relief.  It was found in an early Mycanaean tomb, along with a matching altar stone."



"So it's Greek?"



"Mycenaean.  But no, it's not Mycenaean.  Or Greek.  It's something... older.  My guess is it's Lemurian."



"Interesting."  he said, preparing himself to follow Raven out into the night.  "And here I thought Lemuria was just a myth.  Like Atlantis."



"Well, until last week at the U.N., Atlantis was just a myth."



"Touché," he granted, then parted ways with a final "I'll be in touch," and then he, too, dropped from sight.

With that, Jean Grey was once again alone in her museum office.  She rushed to the window and slammed it closed, locking it in the faint hope that it would somehow keep out anymore visitors.



She looked out wistfully at the clear, night sky.  The moon was very nearly full, and its pale radiance held her gaze for a very long time.



With a sudden, puzzled expression, she looked down and realized she was still clutching the heavy steel wrench.  During the earlier excitement, she had managed to crush it into uselessness.  Neither she, nor her unexpected visitors, had noticed.



"Oops," she mumbled to herself, tossing it casually aside.



Oh well, she thought to herself.  Back to work.  There's still so much that needs




(published December 26, 2015)

----- ACTION NEWS BREAKING ALERT! ------

We interrupt our currently scheduled programming to take you live to a developing story across the river in Queens-

Hello, Kent, I am standing here at the scene of what was a major incident involving several super powered individuals.



The vigilante Spider-Man was spotted among the combatants, as well as several known super powered criminals.  Eyewitnesses have also described several other individuals who are as yet unidentified enhanceds.



Authorities are clearing the rubble over a two block radius, including the remnants of a six story office building that is little more than a pile of smoking debris.  The officer in charge has asked local residents to remain in their homes until the area is fully secured.  It is unclear if any arrest warrants will issue from this incident.



Back to you, Kent.



There you have it.  If you are a resident of that neighborhood, stay in your homes until further notice.



Joining us now with commentary is Laurel Friedman.

Thank you, Kent.



Once again we, the everyday citizens of the City of New York, find ourselves in the middle of an impromptu warzone.  This was not a case of an alien invasion, nor of a renegade artificial intelligence wreaking havoc on a world-wide scale.  This was a street level incident between local super powered individuals, a 'turf war,' if you will. 



When is this going to end?  Is there really any difference between these self-proclaimed 'heroes' and the 'villains' they fight when both indiscriminately level city blocks whenever they clash? 



So I ask you, the mayor, the governor, and all legislators- federal, state and local, for the City, County and State of New York-



What are you going to do about it?



(published December 19, 2015)

Episode 9: Enter... The Sinister Six!

The Roughnecks were in the mansion's entertainment room catching up on the latest episodes of iZombie when the flatscreen tv was taken over by a menacing looking figure with dark goggles and gleaming metal tentacles.



"If you fools ever wish to see this girl alive again," he began, with a picture of Gwen Stacey flashing across the screen, "then you will meet me immediately at Stanley Lieber Park."



Phantasm quickly opened a portal, and the Roughnecks appeared at the park.  They reconnoitered the area, and spotted spider-man on a nearby rooftop, also assessing the scene.



Doc Ock recognized that everyone he wished to lure in had arrived, and he began twisting the life out of Gwen Stacey, strangling her with his adamantium tentacles.



Without much more consideration, everyone simultaneously attacked.  As the fight broke out, different members of the Sinister Six begin materializing from behind an invisibility screen, and the heroes realized Gwen was actually Typhoid Mary.

Electro unleashed an elecrtical storm, significantly damaging half a city block, and in order to subdue him, Phantasm began the process of mind controlling him.

Vulture repteatedly smashed into the scenery, doing more damage to himself than to any of the Roughnecks.  Crucible and Sabanion engaged Sandman, hoping to take out the powerful opponent before he could extinguish them. 

Fenris and Kraven began tearing into each other, picking up where they had not too recently left off.

The battle raged on, and Sandman and Doc Ock began arguing with each other, even as Spider-Man went toe-to-toe with his old nemesis.  Doc Ock, unknown to his teammates, had lured Spider-Man in for his own revenge, compromising the mission they had agreed to, and reminding the others why the Sinister Six had never been able to achieve their nefarious schemes.

As all hell broke loose in the neighborhood, Typhoid Mary began to 'spread her wings,' unleashing multiple effects on her foes, including mind control attacks, telekinetic blasts, and turning away incoming attacks with a personal forcefield.  As she began to unload, Spider-Man and Sabanion switched their focus to her.  When Typhoid tried to mind control Speder-Man, she momentarily froze in place.



"Peter?" she murmured looking blankly at Spider-Man.  Taking advantage of Typhoid's momentary distraction, Sabanion finally got ahold of her with his whirlwind attack and fired her into a nearby office building. 

The streets began to rumble as if an earthquake were shaking manhattan, and with a final, giant shudder, the building collapsed in on itself.



Phantasm searched for life signatures, but found none.



Doc Ock then made a break for it after Electro was possessed and Kraven was subdued.  Sandman cursed Doc Ock and dissolved into the sewers, swearing revenge against his former allies.  Fenris and Spider-Man gave chase, but Doc Ock had gotten away.



They heard the police in the distance and left vulture, kraven, and electro behind for the Avengers after they had arrived on the scene to mop up.




(published December 19, 2015)

The Storm Gathers

All in all, Ludwig Rinehart could not have found better accomodations in the City even if he had tried.



He'd first come upon this place while briefly employed by a lunatic styling herself as Nemesis, the Greek goddess of vengenace.  He'd known there were abandoned underground railways and stations beneath the City, but her abode had truly impressed him.  As had her offer-- help her kill a few enhanceds calling themselves the Roughnecks for a huge pile of cash, half of which was paid up front.



The fight in the warehouse had not gone off as planned, however.  The Greek harlot had not accounted for her enemies' coming out in force.  It had resulted in him taking a massive beating and spending an unfortunate amount of time in the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D.  At some point during his imprisonment, an unkown group had assaulted the location where he was being held, ostensibly to free his fellow captive, Raven Darkholme.  In the chaos, he had escaped.



In dire need of funds, he'd headed back to the City.  He'd wanted the rest of his payment so he could get up and running again.  Crafting new identities and preparing for new heists was an expensive process.  He'd needed the remainder of what was owed to him by Nemesis. 



The lair's entrance had been carefully concealed and secured, a minor inconvenience for someone of his abilities to overcome.  It did, however, confirm his suspicions.  The 'goddess' had hastily fled, abandoning the place entirely.  Pathetic.



But it meant she'd left the location completely untouched.  There was enough of value there to get him going again, and so he began to rebuild.



The place had been spartan, and not suitable to a man of his tastes or capabilities.  Of course, he needed a working lab. But he also needed more.  Building things by hand had always helped focus his mind, and while he'd worked on his new headquarters, several schemes had taken shape.



He would, of course, return to illicitly procuring technological and military designs he could sell off to the highest bidder (after he had gleaned whatever useful information they contained, naturally).  He would also ensure his place in the inner circle of the Hellfire Club. 



Most of all, though, he would take his revenge against the unworthy curs who had beaten him down.



His plans had already been put into motion.  Soon he would unleash his greatest weapon against them.



*****





Mary slipped quietly into the heated waters of the steaming, in-ground pool.  The seeping heat helped release the tension left over from the night's amusements.



All told, it had been quite an evening.



Dr. Rinehart's plan had worked well enough.  The hulking bricks had done their job.  It required very little persuasion on her part to get them to brawl with the Doctor's enemies. The 'Roughnecks' needed little encouragement of their own once they came pouring out of their old townhouse.



They were all malleable simpletons.  Violence was in their nature.  It was their nature.



Creel and Garthwaite seemd particularly unworthy of their gifts, though.  The source of their power was a place the Doctor had called 'Asgard.'  That was of no interest to her at first, until the Doctor had made the connection between Asgard and that dreamy hunk, Thor.  Her interest quickly ebbed again once he had explained she would not be meeting the thunder god.



She wondered if she could go to Asgard, wherever that was, if she so chose.  She thought she could.  She had come to realize there were a great many things she was capable of.  Every day, she learned something new about herself.  With Dr. Rinehart's help.



First, he had taught her how to shape illusions, much as he did himself.  From that starting point he had pushed her further, to places that he could not himself follow.  She could move objects with only a thought.  She could convince people to do what she wanted.  She could make invisible, impenetrable barriers by the force of her will alone.



And yet...   she was Mary.  That is what he called her, and it felt right.  "Mary," she heard him call from the gallery.  "Mary!  Prepare yourself.  Our visitors have begun to arrive."



Slipping under the water one last time, she finished her little cleansing ritual and emerged from the pool.  She quickly donned her false garb, including the mask that hid her identity.



The Docotor had need of her again, and she would not disappoint.



*****





"Twice I have tasked you with defeating the Roughnecks," Rinehart shrieked, nearly falling out of Nemesis' abandoned throne, "and twice you have failed!"



Ludwig Rinehart quickly regained his composure, and leaned back in the ornate chair.  Mary stood silently behind him, her piercing glare never leaving the visitors arrayed before her.



"At least your feeble distraction allowed me to obtain the device I required."



"I don't need this Bullshit, Rinehart,"  the man known on the street as Bullseye growled back in response.  "You got a job for me, or not?"



"A job?" he replied sneeringly, gesturing at the others in the room. "Your job tonight is to serve as an example to these others- your replacements."



Bullseye laughed, honestly amused by Rinehart's blustering.



"Hoo boy, okay then.  I'm outta here.  Fisk has gotta have something for me to do," he turned to leave, and then stopped.  Turning back to the throne, he nodded at Mary.



"What's with the mask, Rinehart?" he asked.  "The real Mary didn't wear no mask.  She didn't need to hide behind no frickin' mask, she didn't- URKH!"



Bullseye clutched his throat as it began to collapse in his hands.  Chuckling with delight, Rinehart answered him.



"It's none of your concern, really.  You ask too many questions, Mr. Lester.  What is worse than your many failures is that now I have grown weary of your presence entirely.  I am tempted to end this matter permanently!"



Rhinehart looked around at the others that he had invited to this little meeting. "Mary?" he said, looking back at his protege. "You may release him.  Make sure he goes on his way."



"Be on your way," she said softly at Bullseye, reaching out and letting go of the telekinetic grip she had on his windpipe.



"I'll be on my way," he said simply, leaving them directly wthout further incident.



Amid grim laughter, Dr. Ludwig Rinehart stepped down from his thrown to join the others who had assembled.



"You will be well payed if you achieve what I ask, my old friends," he sadi as he walked among them, greeting each individually. "The sales proceeds from the sale of the Stark technology has already been wired from Switzerland."



"Will you not be joining us, Ludwig?" One of his guests asked him.



"No, Otto," he said.  "I will not...  I have other matters to attend to, although I am sorely tempted."



"However, I am sending Mary in my place.  I think you have seen that she will be a more than adequate replacement."



"Excellent,"  Otto Octavious replied. "The 'Sinister Five' simply doesn't have the same ring to it."



After sharing more grim laughter, they villains set out on their task.

(published 12/07/2015)

Episode 8: Party on the Pavement

On a moonlit autumn night at the rebuilt spector mansion, the Roughnecks were taking a little R&R when the screeching of truck tires and the unmistakable crash of an overturned semi interrupted what would otherwise have been a nice, quiet evening.



They went outside to see what had happened, and as Crucible went around the other side of the totalled tractor trailer, he seemed to step through an illusory barrier, only to come face to face with two massive brutes- the Wrecker and the Absorbing Man!  Directing the ambush was none other than the Roughnecks old nemesis- Bullseye!

Seemingly cut off from the mental link connecting him to his team mates, Crucible was engaged hard in battle before he could do anything else.  Sabanion and Fenris quickly passed through the screen as well, and joined the fight immediately upon seeing the situation.  Phantasm puzzled over the source of the mental blocks, and moved in, only to also see that the scene was blocked by a powerful illusion.



The combatants traded several earth shattering blows, with the heroes taking the worst of it at first.



Sabanion latched onto Crusher Creel and did his best Tasmanian Devil, flinging the villain a good mile and a half out into the Hudson River.  Within moments, however, something had brought the Absorbing Man back, as he seemed to fly back over the tops of the nearby buildings and drop right back into the fray.



Sabanion once again spun his deadly attack, and this time it was Bullseye who reaped the whirlwind, taking his turn sampling the refreshing waters of the nearby drink.



But as the fight raged on, the tide had slowly turned.  Fenris then caught scent of another combatant, only she was barely concealed on the roof of a nearby building.

She was tall and redheaded, and was decked out in black leather and lace.  A mask hid her identity, but they knew that this was the enhanced who was making the fight that much more difficult for them.



As the fight turned fully in favor of the heroes, and as Fenris and Phantasm made a move to reach the woman on top of the building, she vanished into nothingness.



Whoever she was, she had sut down Phantasm's psionic life detection, or had at least shielded both herself and her compatriots from the power of the remnant's ghostly senses.



As they finished mopping up the bricks, the authorities had nearly arrived on the scene. Before they came into sight, the heroes finished tying up the superthugs and made a dash for the mansion. 



The coppers began taping off and securing the area, and shortly thereafter, a gleaming blur streaked through the night sky overhead and landed in a red and gold crouch near the scene of the fight.



Iron Man had come at the police department's emergency call.

Looking around while the police filled him in, he quickly spotted the newly rebuilt mansion and shook his head slowly.



"Finish securing these goons, boys, and I'll then take them to the raft myself," he said.  "But first I've gotta make a quick house call."



He walked purposefully up to the front door and rapped the door knocker three times.  "Hello?" he said, "Anybody home?  Can I come in?"



"NO!" Crucible shouted from the other side.



"Aha..." he said thoughtfully.  "Well, okay then..." he continued, holding up the palms of his gauntlets toward the face of the door.  The telltale whine of charging repulsors were enough for the door to swing wide open, and Tony Stark walked inside.



After a few moments' discussion, the Roughnecks learned that ever since the Battle of New York, and the increased numbers of enhanced running around in the world, the police had created a dedicated emergency line to the Avengers.  Iron Man had been in the area on Stark Enterprises business, and had responded to the call.  While he explained, he received another incoming call-



"Wait- Pepper? What?"  he said out loud in response.  "Seriously? Alright, I'll finish here and drop the prisoners at the Raft.  In the interim, have F.R.I.D.A.Y. try to pick up the trail again."



"What's the deal, Tony?" Axl Christensen asked his old boss.



"Well, it seems that this all may have been one big, messed up, poorly planned diversion," he replied.  "Except for the fact that it seems to have worked- the convoy I was escorting was hit within moments of me leaving.  Whatever hit it also blocked out the satellite feed using some kind of electromagnetic interference.  The energy signature was unique and unidentified... until now."



Exiting the mansion he went over to the bound villains and stopped.  As the Roughnecks had once again gone incognito in their civilian guises, they had followed him out into the street.



"Once I get these clowns into holding cells, I'm going to find out who did this.  If you come across anything useful, maybe we can trade information."



"We'll let you know," Axl said to him.



"Hey, Axl,"  Tony Stark said to him before blasting off. "Are you guys totally committed to the 'Roughnecks?'  I mean, seriously, take a look around- a werewolf? an elemental? a ghost?  a demon?"



"How about-" he looked up and put his hands together in front of him, then spead them wide in a flourish as if he were standing under a billboard on Broadway- "The MONSTER SQUAD?"



"What? No?" he said, noting the disapproving looks he got back in return for his suggestion. "Well, it's just a thought.  And probably a copyright infringement of some sort."



"In any event, I'll be in touch."



With that, he picked up a goon in each hand and rocketed away into the night.



"You know something?"  Crucible pointed out somewhat mystified, looking up as the Armored Avenger disappeared from sight.  "Not a single one of us can fly..."



(published 11/23/15)

A Bit of the Old Ludwig Van

"Lady Selene! how delightful of you to accept my invitation."



The pale, black-clad woman had seemed to materialize suddenly out of thin air, right in the middle of the crowd that had gathered in the garden courtyard just outside his estate's auditorium.



"Tread lightly, Shaw,"  she replied.  "I have merely come to hear more about your proposal.  Nothing more."



"Of course, of course,"  he said, offering her the crook of his arm.  "Perhaps we should retire to a more discreet location? "  he nodded to the two men he had been speaking to before the ancient mystic had joined them "-- Professor McCoy, Dr. Rinehart, please excuse  us.  I look forward to sometime soon picking up where we've left off."



As they walked away, Henry McCoy turned a dubious eye back to his fellow guest. "I don't think the Council is going to find much use for this foundling of yours, Ludwig.  I ran the blood tests myself.  She is neither mutant nor inhuman..."



"Impossible!"  the aforementioned Dr. Rinehart responded.  "I have witnessed her abilities myself."



"So what?  If she is so exceptional, well, why wouldn't she be a candidate for admittance into our little group, rather thanyou?"



"She is but an addled patient.  She is not yet able to act with either wisdom or foresight without the proper guidance."



"Even better for us!" McCoy asserted.  Rinehart was not sure whether or not it was offered in jest.



"Nonsense," the doctor countered.  "I will offer a demonstration of what my ward is capable of."



Henry McCoy shrugged.



"Fine.  Turn her loose and see what happens.  If you can prove a benefit to our cause, then perhaps there might be a place for you at the Council table." McCoy said to him. 



The crowd was moving back into the auditorium from the open veranda, having been alerted that the intermezzo was concluding and that the next performance was to begin shortly.  As both men turned and followed, McCoy spotted Sebastian Shaw and Lady Selene as they entered the gallery together.



He made one last observation to Dr. Rinehart before his thoughts turned back to the orchestral performance.



"You'd better hurry, old boy.  The seats are filling up fast."



                         *          *          *          *



"Hey, Gwen'" he said, opening the front door for her.



"Hey yourself," she responded, stepping into the small, comfy place where Peter and his aunt lived in Queens.



Things had been looking up for Peter Parker in the several months since Mary Jane was gone.  Aunt May had been there for him, just like always.  But now there was Gwen.



Gwen Stacey...  he hadn't even known that they went to the same high school, let alone that they shared something... else.  They were both, after all, very different from other people.



From the night he'd first met her, near Central Park, he knew there was something about her.  He was glad that she hadn't been harmed in the fights with the Roughnecks or the Masters of Evil or that goth witch's posse.  It was even better that the Air Force guys hadn't noticed when he'd spirited her away and taken her home that night.



Surprisingly, to himself, he'd checked up on her soon after.  And again.  And again.  Concern soon became friendship, and friendhsip soon became something more.



And seriously, how many other teeneagers had Date Nights like this?  The first time they went to see a movie together, they stopped a mugging in a nearby alley.  Last weekend, it was an armed robbery at the convenience store where they were buying snacks.  Who knew what the city might give them now.



"You kids behave tonight!"  Aunt May admonished them as they headed out the door.  The teeneagers looked at each other with secret, knowing smiles.

                         *          *          *          *



The acrid air of the City was heavy with hate, burning Fenris' heightened senses.  And yet, it's familiar haze was a welcome reprieve.  His sojourn in deep space had left him surly, and he needed to hunt.  The City was not the north woods, but it was still fertile ground. 



Only the prey was different, not the chase.  Nor the conclusion.



As he tested the smells and sounds all around him, he soon detected a familiar presence that darkened his countenance.



Aneksi, it's time, he thought to himself, telepathically letting his companion know it was time to swing into action.  The ghostly sorceress would track him as he went, bringing the others along  to his location.  He leapt down into a darkened alley, commencing the hunt in earnest.

(published October 3, 2015)

... And Hell Followed After

Selene took the seat offered her, looking about impatiently in the mid day sun.  The mass of mortals surrounding her irritated her, like meaningless little ants scurrying away on meaningless little errands.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" the gentleman across the sidewalk cafe table asked her politely.  "I am having a chablis, myself.  I enjoy white wine most when the heat of summer is at its peak, and Central Park is quite lovely this time of year."

"Why have you asked me here...?"

"You may call me White King," he said, sipping at his glass, clearly savoring the flavor of every drop of the dry vintage. "And I am a member of a very discrete, and very influential, group of like-minded people who wish to make a lasting mark on this world."

Selene laughed out loud, causing the gentleman to raise an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Do you indeed?" she sneered. "Do you know to whom you speak?"

"Yes," he replied simply, with a small, fleeting smile.  "You are domina Aquilia Severa, the First Vizier to Queen Cleopatra VII.  You have had many other names in your long history.  But I believe that was your first."

The icy smile he received in reply confirmed the truth of it.  "I do not know how you found me, but you will wish you had not."

Despite the threat, the man called White King proceeded along calmly.

"Please be assured, we are an organization comprised of only the very most wealthy and influential members of world society.  We are no mere pretenders.  If you have any doubt, I invite you to come to the private performance of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony this week end at my estate and meet some of our friends.  We can discuss our current project more then."  He passed a folded letter across the table to her.

Without further word, Selene rose and moved to take her leave.  As she went, the gentleman stood as well.

"You don't have to make up your mind now,"  he said behind her as she went.  "Think of it as an open invitation."

After a very brief moment of consideration, he offered one last thought.

"You probably would not remember, but we have met once before," he remarked casually, brushing a stray piece of lint from the leg of his trousers. "It was in-"

"London, was it not?  July, sixteen hundred sixty-two, as mortals reckon time," she smoothly interjected and stopped.  With barely a glance backward, she continued. "At the celebration commemorating the grant of the charter for the Royal Society by Charles II.  Yes, I remember... and do not doubt that I know who you are, as well."

With that Selene took her leave, disappearing into the bustling crowd.



****



"Magnificent, isn't she," he said as his compatriot took the seat the fearsome woman had just vacated.

"She is," the newly arrived individual agreed. "Her plot to unify the Eternal Coven nearly succeeded.  She might have set back our plans considerably if she had succeeded before ever joining in our cause."

"That scheme is of no consequence now,"  White King replied.  "The witches are scattered, and no wiser to their shared fate than before.  And, fortunately you were there in case anything went wrong.  In any event, the lady Selene would be a valued member of our current project.  We did not see her last play for power in time, but she is one of many, many independent operators on the chess board moving about in this most marvelous age."

"Independent.  That's a good way of putting it.  What makes you think she would put her personal schemes aside to join us, Sebastian?"

"Why, Henry," he answered. "Once she sees how trivial her previous endeavors were, she will practically beg to be a part of this as it unfolds."

"And where on the board to you plan to place her?"



"Right at the forefront, my good Professor McCoy.  She will be our Black Queen."



(published September 7, 2015)

You Don't Have to Go Home, But You Can't Stay Here

It was such a beautiful morning.  Maybe an hour or two outside Green Bay, a quiet place deep in the Nicolet forest.  The smell of pine trees and sandy earth... and the warmth of the woman he loved, her hair damp with dew from lying under the open sky.  No werewolves, no sorcerers, just he and Liz, together.  The rising sun gave the promise of a new beginning, endless renewal, and..



"Hey, watch it...   buddy!"  The manwolf turned sharply to look down at the creature that had jostled him at the bar.  The thing looking up at him obviously had no idea what he'd just said (or growled, rather)- all it saw was a surly, eight foot tall engine of destruction perched on a barstool.  It stared up at him in sheer terror, blurted out some kind of weird, gargled noise, turned tail, and ran.



Fenris looked back at his beer and sighed wistfully.  Perfectly good daydream, totally ruined.  At least they had Leiney's at this dump.  He couldn't find any in New York, but here, here at the goddamned edge of the universe, in a little shithole that had nothing on Mos Eisley, here he could get a frickin Honey Weiss.



Dr. Christensen, you and I both know this is not the edge of the universe.  A familiar voice whispered in his mind.  Was nothing sacred?



Aneksi, I'm trying to have a drink here.  An adult beverage?  You remember those, don't you?  I go to the bar to be alone and drown my sorrows.



Yes, I remember them very well.  I do not believe, however, that the alcohol will have the effect you desire, given your meatabolism.  It seems a futile ritual, on the face of it.



"Don't I know it,"  he growled. The barkeep looked at him in confusion.  He pushed the empty over and said, "Sure, Sam, I'll have another, thanks."



He took note as Drax, Groot and Rocket entered the establishment, grabbing a table not too far away.



Dr. Christensen, I believe that with your universal translator turned off, communicating with other patrons or the staff will be problematic.



"Yeah, that's exactly the point."



The barkeep pushed another drink over, and looked at Fenris blankly.  The manwolf nodded back happily.



"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this mental intrusion?"



I wish to discuss recent events that have effected me.  I believe with your expertise in both science and the occult, your insight would be very valuable.



"Let, 'er rip, then" he replied, downing the ice cold beer.  "And for you, I'll even waive my normal hourly rate."



But, you don't-



"Oh for Chrissakes, Aneksi, what is it?"  As he tensed and curled his claws into fists, the nearby patrons slowly began to back away.



...Very well. As the distraction with the Kree has concluded, I have once again spent a great deal of time in deep meditation.  I allowed my consciousness to wander farther than I have in many, many centuries.  In my wanderings, I have had a vision.



It is little more than a vague impression at this time.  Upon returning to earth, however, I   will seek out Stephen Strange's manservant and request access to the Doctor's sanctum, to focus and refine my insights into the meaning of this.



The sum of my vision is thus- There is darkness.  And ash and flame.  I sense great power of life, which cannot be defeated by death yet is consumed by death, and yet it is also death that creates life.



"The phoenix,"  he muttered, after a moment of thought. "Interesting.  Why the phoenix?"



This I do not know.  I have not dreamt of a firebird directly.  Not yet.



"Well, you're a being of pure psychic energy now.  Legends say the phoenix is  the nexus of all psionic power in the universe.  And you are like a psychic transceiver, Aneksi.  I doubt even old baldy is as sensitive to long range psionic vibrations as you are.  Maybe something out here tripped your trigger, like you're some kind of early warning system.  I don't know.  With the intimate connection between life energy and psionic energy, something of that magnitude would stick out to you like a sore thumb, no matter what."



He leaned over to the bartender.  "Pour it again, Sam."



Leaning back, he stretched and yawned.  "Anyway, those are my thoughts.  We're so far out in the galaxy, who really knows. There's a lot of crazy shit going down out here.  The sooner we get home, the better."



I concur, Dr. Christensen.  Your insight has proved valuable to me.  Many thanks.



"Don't mention it."



"And I mean it.  Don't mention it to anyone.  Let me know how it turns out at Strange's and we'll talk some more later."



His sharp ears picked out the telltale signs of a commotion a short distance away.  Looking back, it appeared that the frisky raccoon and the big ole' bastard had already had too much to drink and were picking a fight.  Judging by the pissed off looks on the faces of a little Xandarian stunner and her starship marine boyfriend, things were going south quickly.  It also appeared that the rest of the guy's platoon-mates were on shore leave, too, and were quickly moving in on the action.  The towering babysitter's obligatory attempt to calm the situation down was little more than an apologetic 'I am Groot,' which only seemed to inflame the situation even more...



"I gotta go Aneksi," he said hopefully. "I think there may be trouble."



(published August 9, 2015)

INTERMISSION

The last mugger had fallen as quickly and as decisively as the first.  Everything was mechanical now, dodge-strike-duck-strike-flip-kick-roll. Because it didn’t really matter anymore.  She was gone.



Peter Parker had a penchant for loss.  First his parents, then Uncle Ben, and now Mary Jane.  In the end he hadn’t turned out to be much of a superhero.  Nothing ever seemed to come out right.  He knew he couldn’t stop being Spider-Man, but he also knew he couldn’t stop losing the ones he loved, either.  There wasn’t much of anyone left at this point, after Aunt May…



He looked down at the five thugs he had just dropped. Not too long ago he would have made some smart-ass comments first while he toyed with them, then he would have webbed them up, and then called the cops to come and collect the trash, all while he snapped away with the camera from a safe distance.  Not tonight, though.  He didn’t much care anymore.  These chumps could just lay in the alley and bleed, as far as he was concerned.



All of a sudden he heard a noise, and looked up to see a hooded figure standing silently at the end of the alley, watching him.  He realized it had been watching him for a while, unnoticed.  Strange.  His Spider-Sense didn’t normally let him down.  As they stood regarding each other, the figure began to move.  With blinding speed, it drew a metallic object from its belt as if to throw something at him.  As he reflexively dodged the flashing silver dart as it hissed by, he heard it thunk heavily into something behind him.

He turned and saw to his surprise that one of the muggers had stood back up and was preparing to shoot him in the back.  The dart had taken the punk down before he could pull the trigger.  The stranger at the end of the alley was one hell of a shot, he thought.  They had also saved his life.

Looking back to the end of the alley, he saw that the figure had already gone.



*                                 *                                *                                        *

The pleasing sound of crunching concrete and steel was music to her ears.  But why had this taken so long?  She’d had to put up with way too much bullshit while the general and his goons tried to interrogate her.  Any much more of it, and she might have actually broke.  She swore to herself that after this was over she would come back and shave that f***ing mustache right off Talbot’s face with a wooden spoon.



As the last resistance in the reinforced structure of her cell gave way, the wall to the outside collapsed in a cloud of dust and rubble.  Pale moonlight dimly illuminated the new entrance to her cozy little home, only darkening the room when a bulky figure stepped in through the breach.



“Did ya miss me, babe?” came an all too welcome voice.



Raven Darkholme jumped up from her cot and threw her arms around the dark blue, furry form of her liberator.



“Total beast mode,” she said to him, hugging him tight.  “Now get me the hell out of here!”



“No worries, the Blackbird’s hovering just outside” he said, slipping a pair of blasters into her hands as she pulled away from him.  They smiled adoringly at each other as she released the safety catches on her shiny new toys. “Thought you might like ta have a little fun, first.”



All of the alarms throughout the complex were blaring now on full alert, and she could hear the voices of Talbot’s commandos shouting as they mobilized just outside her cell.



Her rescuer grinned darkly in anticipation as her cell door blew inward.



“Time ta party!”

*                                *                                      *                                       *



“What do you mean, nurse?”



She looked back at him blankly.



“Did you say the subject just moved?”



“Yes doctor, I-“



“Ridiculous!  Patient HD-Zero has been heavily sedated for months.  His vitals have not fluctuated once since he was put under.”



He looked down at the prone form unconscious on the large gurney.  Nothing.  It was barely breathing.



He dismissed the nurse from the room without another thought, and prepared a series of syringes to begin extracting blood and other fluids from the test subject.  He then bent over the inert form and began his work, musing over recent events as he went.



The test subject had not so much as flickered an eyelid since it had been moved from containment once the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility had been assaulted.  As a former S.H.I.E.L.D. researcher himself, he knew exactly where to direct his superior’s strike team.  Garrett’s men had extracted this prize and delivered it to his new, remotely isolated facility.  It wasn’t exactly the same as his prior lab, but HYDRA had still set him up nicely.  He had been able to perform his experiments over the course of months without interruption, taking what he needed from the subject, altering and modifying, and putting it back in.  Everything was working, and his project was ahead of schedule.  It was too bad there wasn’t any memory data he could have transferred out of this host before he would dispose of the body once his work was completed.  It was a simple process, one that had been perfected years ago, beginning with the transfer of Arnim Zola’s consciousness and memories onto hard drive.  Oh, what might have been learned from this specimen!



But he knew the subject’s core memory had been completely wiped, despite the fact that it was never intended to be allowed to regain consciousness.  Fury was nothing if not cautious.  And ruthless.  He almost missed the bald, old bastard…  Interestingly, the wiping process had turned the subject’s hair silvery white, or at least had caused it to grow out that way.  Odd.  The wiping process had not done the same to the Winter Soldier, but then again, that one had always been put back on ice before anyone would have noticed the difference.



In any case, Mr. Whitehall would be impressed with the results of his work.  Although no S.H.I.E.L.D. (nor HYDRA!) scientist had been able to replicate either the Super-Soldier Formula, or the GH formula, he had done something better.  He had pure, concentrated blood from this test subject.  Purer than even the T.A.H.I.T.I. subject.  And he had refined the genetic code of the subject itself, so that it had produced something he had not even expected, in fact----



Little more than a gurgle escaped the scientist’s mouth as a powerful hand crushed his windpipe.  Subject HD-Zero squeezed until the fool had stopped moving, then tossed the broken body aside.  He sat upright on the gurney and tore away the tubes and wires connecting him to the various machines in the laboratory.



Everything was a haze, and he did not know where he was, but every instinct told him he needed to be somewhere else.



Swinging his legs over the side, he took his first steps in months, and made his way to the barred window looking out over the moonlit bay.  Taking hold of the bars in both hands, he ripped the security structure away from the wall and smashed out the windows.  He stepped out onto the sill as alarms began to sound somewhere behind him.





He dove headlong into the murky waters below and disappeared from sight.

(published October 19, 2014)