Chapter Three: Chillin Like Villains
By C. M. King
Elsewhere in the villain’s headquarters, we find the full Malevolence Union relaxing around a large table. Red Wind and Thulkon are present as well as two more comrades. The first is the woman who helped out in the ambush; she is now wearing a costume and reclines with her feet up on the table while smoking a cigarette. The other person present is a very skinny/nerdy-looking guy who is sporting tiny glasses and wearing normal clothes. They are all listening to Thulkon speak. - “That was totally exhilarating! I for one can’t wait to kick some more hero ass! These Avengers can’t be all that tough.”
The skinny man folds his arms and replies, “I noticed that the one who only shoots arrows gave you a pretty hard time.”
“I underestimated him, Doctor. And I can promise you that that is a mistake I will never make again.”
Red Wind speaks up next, “I hope that Iron Man or Thor is next. Let’s see who’s afraid of whom after we butt heads.”
“Buttheads is right,” exclaims the woman after she expels a large amount of smoke. “That’s what you two are. Our plans will be ruined by the super amount of testosterone you two emit that totally clogs your brains!”
Following the woman’s lead, the skinny man chimes in, “Just keep it in check for now, you two; and follow Othello’s plan to the letter.”
An animated Thulkon replies, “You may like being Othello’s monkey-boy, Dr. Dorkus; but not me! Thulkon can think for himself.”
Within an instant, the slight man transforms into an immensely-muscled, hulking creature and plants a massive finger upon Thulkon’s chest. “Watch your tongue my smart-mouthed friend, lest you forget to whom you are speaking. Dr. Bruttus has an end to his patience.”
“Now-now, Doc; let’s not get excited here,” pleads Thulkon desperately trying to calm the monster down. “I was just talking. I’m jonesin' for more action is all.”
The large creature turns around and walks away from the relieved villain. “Then control yourself, my friend, before Dr. Bruttus decides to give you more action than you would find healthy.”
“Just chill big guy. We’d all do best to save our energy for the heroes,” says Red Wind as he stands over the reclined woman.
She stabs her cigarette out harshly a moment before speaking up. “Fighting heroes, that’s all you guys talk about. Why should we bother? With our abilities we could make ourselves way rich with much less risk.”
Red Wind grins. “Awww, Dymium. Too bad your pretty little head can’t comprehend what real power is.”
At this, a glint in her eye forms and a small amount of energy crackles around her hand. “Oh, real power, huh? Don’t make me show you what I can do, Captain Red Pants.”
Red Wind smacks the table with his open palm. “With these heroes eliminated, we will have control of this world … while you just talk about lining your pockets with a few measly dollars!”
Dymium smiles back at him. “Dollars are a girl’s best friend, Reddy. Better to live comfortably in this world, than to get our legs broken trying to own it. What do you think will happen if we even do defeat these Avengers? You think the other heroes out there will just roll over and play dead? We’ll just make ourselves a bigger target for them … that’s all we’ll do!”
Dr. Bruttus raises his fist in a power gesture. “We’ll have destroyed the heroes’ most organized resistance. Then it should be a simple matter to pick off the stragglers one-by-one. Othello has already conquered a world once; I have complete faith that he can do it again. And I intend to be on the winning side.”
Thulkon walks to the far side of the room. “Let me allay your fears, sweet Dymium. Doctor, if you would be so kind as to turn on the combat droid.” A large finger clicks a button, and a shiny looking mannequin appears on the opposite side of the room. “First I shall outfit it properly.” Thulkon uses his power to turn some metal from his uniform into replicas of both Thor’s helmet and his hammer. Having completed this, he places them on the robot’s head and in its hand. “Now I shall show our lovely comrade why the Avengers should fear our power rather than we fear them.” With more metal from his uniform, Thulkon forms three floating, razor-sharp disks. He waves his hands, and each disk starts to fly at the robot from three different directions. The deadly flyers all reach their target at the same time. Disk one slices completely through the right leg, disk two makes a hole clean through the torso, and disk three slices the head off. All the pieces fall to the ground with a loud bang. “Now that, sugar buns, … is skill!”
Dymium rushes up to where the hammer has fallen and touches it. Then she walks over to Thulkon and puts her hand on his chest. “”And just for calling me “sugar buns,” I thought I’d remind you of my power! Namely that to affect the magnetic field of anything I choose, by rearranging its electron properties. For instance, I can turn that hammer into a giant super-magnet. And you my friend … I can turn into the refrigerator.” She takes her hand off of Thulkon and the hammer leaps up from the ground. It speeds its way through the air straight at a completely startled Thulkon. Cowering back against the wall, the weapon strikes Thulkon square in the chest … thankfully, liquefying as it does.
“Sweet-Christ-All-Mighty, Dymium! If I hadn’t willed that hammer to become malleable before it struck … it would have pulped me!”
Dymium walks over and rubs Thulkon’s shoulder. “Aww … did little ole’ me scare Mr. Skill and Power? I’m sowwie. You just go back to your plans to take over this big-bad world. I’ll be good, I promise.” Dr. Bruttus and Red Wind laugh hysterically as Dymium plants a kiss on the cheek of the red-faced Thulkon.
NEXT: The Plan Put Into Action!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Weakest Link in the Chain, Part 2
Chapter Two: The Man Who Lost the World
By Cristian Mark King
Hawkeye grimaces as he finds himself waking back up from unconsciousness. When he finally does open his eyes, he finds that he is a prisoner shackled in chains that suspend him from a wall. Othello’s unwelcome voice hits him like a bucket of cold water would a sleeping man. -“Welcome back to reality, Avenger! I want for you to have a ringside seat to my ultimate victory.”
Clint struggles back to awareness as he speaks. -“Sounds peachy, …but if you don’t mind me asking, who the flip are you?!”
“I am Othello D’Vem, the arch-enemy of the Avengers. I destroyed the Avengers before, and I shall do so again.”
“That’s all well and good, but if it’s true…then how come I’ve Never Heard of You??”
“Because before today, I’d never met you. However, I’ve battled Hawkeye and his Avenger cohorts many times, … and I destroyed them!”
The edge of the Avenger’s lip curls up in annoyance.- “Hoo-boy! Just my luck, not only do I get taken captive, but it’s by a guy that makes the Unibomber look like the poster boy for mental health. Listen Sir, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here. What say, you cut me down and we go get a few beers and watch some Van Damme flicks? I think they could do us both some good right now.”
Othello is not amused. “Your patronizing attitude bores me, archer. However, I wish that you should know who has bested you.”
“Good, you’ve piqued my interest, Mysterio!”
The villain produces an electronic device that he places upon his own head. After it is secure he explains to Hawkeye that it will help him to mentally project images into the archer’s mind so that he can “see” what he is talking about. A blue light flashes out of the end of the headwear and into the eyes of the captive Avenger. Then Othello begins his long monologue.
“Doubtless you’ve heard of the Avengers’ foe Proctor? He came from an earth similar to your own, but in an alternate reality. In his reality he was an Avenger. However, he grew to see the Avengers as enemies. His hatred grew so that he sought to destroy the Avengers in all realities.” Images flood Hawkeye’s brain, the first one he sees is one of Proctor, his eyes glowing from his gann josin bonding.
“He came to this world with his band of Gatherers to claim your group of Avengers as another of his conquests. But it was not to be, and your Avengers defeated him. However, the Gatherers were not alone when they came to this world. I was with them.” In his mind, Hawkeye sees images of the Black Knight locked in a swordfight with the alternate Swordsman.
“I joined Proctor’s band after my world was destroyed by a renegade Sersi. You see, on my world, I was what you would call a super-villain. After several years of trying, I finally succeeded in destroying the Avengers. After that, little stood in my way of world conquest. Thus, I gained complete control over my world. Until Sersi came and ruined the planet I controlled.” An image of Othello strangling Captain America over a very lifeless Scarlet Witch fills Hawkeye’s head.
“I was devastated, a monarch of a rubble kingdom. Proctor came to me and offered a place in his Gatherers. I accepted. However, former emperors make for poor followers. I decided to overthrow Proctor and lead for myself with the aid of a being called Tabula.” Hawkeye sees a shot of Othello in tatters on his knees, surrounded by the rubble of destroyed buildings. Fires are burning in the background.
“However, my mutinous plans didn’t go unnoticed and Proctor imprisoned both me and my comrade. I was a prisoner in his dungeon inside the mountain when his citadel was utterly destroyed. Buried in the remains, I languished for months after. Until I recovered enough to escape.” A new image appears of Othello shackled in a dark prison.
“I used the knowledge I gained from Proctor and summoned my own team of villains. Ones from another reality to do my bidding. My friends were happy to leave their world, as it was becoming politically uncomfortable for them there.” Another vision, this time of the Malevolence Union looking ready to fight. After this last image, the villain removes the machine from his head.
“Thus here we are today. I lost the rule of all I surveyed; but you, dear Avenger, shall help me get it back.”
“Gee, Ot; I’d like to help, but I’m all tied up at the moment.” However, inside Hawkeye’s head, his thoughts are not nearly so confident. “This guy seems like major bad news. Worse than your ordinary would-be conqueror. He means business, and this Avenger better find the chink in his armor before history repeats itself.”
The captive decides to be catty to get Othello to reveal something he can use. “I don’t know about the Avengers where you come from, but the ones here aren’t pushovers. You better have a good plan to back up all your boasting.”
“The best one possible, archer. First, I’m going to destroy the Avengers’ communications network at its source. Once accomplished, we shall have the heroes cut off from each other and, therefore, vulnerable. They will be easy pickings for my compatriots. We can prey on the mightiest members one at a time, assured that no help will come. The Avengers will be alone, while my Malevolence Union shall act as a team. They will be trained on how to destroy each Avenger. Meanwhile, your friends will find themselves fighting against experienced super-villains they have neither heard of before, nor have any idea how to fight.” Othello raises a clenched fist.
“The Avengers are doomed! And once conquered, your world shall be payment for what happened to mine.”
Hawkeye tries to act coy about what he is hearing. Meanwhile, Othello reaches into a pouch that is tied around his waist, and pulls out a gem that is fastened to a necklace.
“Hmmm … it sounds like you’ve thought this out, Ot. However, Avengers Mansion is pretty heavily guarded. You couldn’t just go waltzing in there even if you had an army behind you.”
Othello appears excited as he fastens the gem around his neck. “Aahhh, but who needs an army when I have you, Avenger? You see, this crystal is what I call my Lamprey Stone.”
A crimson beam of light jumps out of the gem and envelops Hawkeye.
“It steals the essence of whomever I wish ….”
The beam turns off, and Othello himself now glows.
“… And gives their essence to me!”
Othello’s body turns into an exact duplicate of Hawkeye. His laughter is loud and evil.
“This is definitely not good,” thinks Hawkeye to himself.
NEXT: Get To Know Your Villains.
By Cristian Mark King
Hawkeye grimaces as he finds himself waking back up from unconsciousness. When he finally does open his eyes, he finds that he is a prisoner shackled in chains that suspend him from a wall. Othello’s unwelcome voice hits him like a bucket of cold water would a sleeping man. -“Welcome back to reality, Avenger! I want for you to have a ringside seat to my ultimate victory.”
Clint struggles back to awareness as he speaks. -“Sounds peachy, …but if you don’t mind me asking, who the flip are you?!”
“I am Othello D’Vem, the arch-enemy of the Avengers. I destroyed the Avengers before, and I shall do so again.”
“That’s all well and good, but if it’s true…then how come I’ve Never Heard of You??”
“Because before today, I’d never met you. However, I’ve battled Hawkeye and his Avenger cohorts many times, … and I destroyed them!”
The edge of the Avenger’s lip curls up in annoyance.- “Hoo-boy! Just my luck, not only do I get taken captive, but it’s by a guy that makes the Unibomber look like the poster boy for mental health. Listen Sir, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here. What say, you cut me down and we go get a few beers and watch some Van Damme flicks? I think they could do us both some good right now.”
Othello is not amused. “Your patronizing attitude bores me, archer. However, I wish that you should know who has bested you.”
“Good, you’ve piqued my interest, Mysterio!”
The villain produces an electronic device that he places upon his own head. After it is secure he explains to Hawkeye that it will help him to mentally project images into the archer’s mind so that he can “see” what he is talking about. A blue light flashes out of the end of the headwear and into the eyes of the captive Avenger. Then Othello begins his long monologue.
“Doubtless you’ve heard of the Avengers’ foe Proctor? He came from an earth similar to your own, but in an alternate reality. In his reality he was an Avenger. However, he grew to see the Avengers as enemies. His hatred grew so that he sought to destroy the Avengers in all realities.” Images flood Hawkeye’s brain, the first one he sees is one of Proctor, his eyes glowing from his gann josin bonding.
“He came to this world with his band of Gatherers to claim your group of Avengers as another of his conquests. But it was not to be, and your Avengers defeated him. However, the Gatherers were not alone when they came to this world. I was with them.” In his mind, Hawkeye sees images of the Black Knight locked in a swordfight with the alternate Swordsman.
“I joined Proctor’s band after my world was destroyed by a renegade Sersi. You see, on my world, I was what you would call a super-villain. After several years of trying, I finally succeeded in destroying the Avengers. After that, little stood in my way of world conquest. Thus, I gained complete control over my world. Until Sersi came and ruined the planet I controlled.” An image of Othello strangling Captain America over a very lifeless Scarlet Witch fills Hawkeye’s head.
“I was devastated, a monarch of a rubble kingdom. Proctor came to me and offered a place in his Gatherers. I accepted. However, former emperors make for poor followers. I decided to overthrow Proctor and lead for myself with the aid of a being called Tabula.” Hawkeye sees a shot of Othello in tatters on his knees, surrounded by the rubble of destroyed buildings. Fires are burning in the background.
“However, my mutinous plans didn’t go unnoticed and Proctor imprisoned both me and my comrade. I was a prisoner in his dungeon inside the mountain when his citadel was utterly destroyed. Buried in the remains, I languished for months after. Until I recovered enough to escape.” A new image appears of Othello shackled in a dark prison.
“I used the knowledge I gained from Proctor and summoned my own team of villains. Ones from another reality to do my bidding. My friends were happy to leave their world, as it was becoming politically uncomfortable for them there.” Another vision, this time of the Malevolence Union looking ready to fight. After this last image, the villain removes the machine from his head.
“Thus here we are today. I lost the rule of all I surveyed; but you, dear Avenger, shall help me get it back.”
“Gee, Ot; I’d like to help, but I’m all tied up at the moment.” However, inside Hawkeye’s head, his thoughts are not nearly so confident. “This guy seems like major bad news. Worse than your ordinary would-be conqueror. He means business, and this Avenger better find the chink in his armor before history repeats itself.”
The captive decides to be catty to get Othello to reveal something he can use. “I don’t know about the Avengers where you come from, but the ones here aren’t pushovers. You better have a good plan to back up all your boasting.”
“The best one possible, archer. First, I’m going to destroy the Avengers’ communications network at its source. Once accomplished, we shall have the heroes cut off from each other and, therefore, vulnerable. They will be easy pickings for my compatriots. We can prey on the mightiest members one at a time, assured that no help will come. The Avengers will be alone, while my Malevolence Union shall act as a team. They will be trained on how to destroy each Avenger. Meanwhile, your friends will find themselves fighting against experienced super-villains they have neither heard of before, nor have any idea how to fight.” Othello raises a clenched fist.
“The Avengers are doomed! And once conquered, your world shall be payment for what happened to mine.”
Hawkeye tries to act coy about what he is hearing. Meanwhile, Othello reaches into a pouch that is tied around his waist, and pulls out a gem that is fastened to a necklace.
“Hmmm … it sounds like you’ve thought this out, Ot. However, Avengers Mansion is pretty heavily guarded. You couldn’t just go waltzing in there even if you had an army behind you.”
Othello appears excited as he fastens the gem around his neck. “Aahhh, but who needs an army when I have you, Avenger? You see, this crystal is what I call my Lamprey Stone.”
A crimson beam of light jumps out of the gem and envelops Hawkeye.
“It steals the essence of whomever I wish ….”
The beam turns off, and Othello himself now glows.
“… And gives their essence to me!”
Othello’s body turns into an exact duplicate of Hawkeye. His laughter is loud and evil.
“This is definitely not good,” thinks Hawkeye to himself.
NEXT: Get To Know Your Villains.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
The Weakest Link in the Chain, Part 1
Chapter One: Once an Avenger
By C.M. King
“Oh yeah! This is what it’s all about…,” thinks Hawkeye to himself as he walks down the busy Manhattan sidewalk in all his purple-clad glory. Passersby stare, gossip to each other, and point excitedly at the famous Avenger. His smile grows with each passing pair of curious eyes on him. “…the adulation of the public, the roar of the crowd. It makes facin’ badies like Ultron worth all the pain. I’m glad I gave into the impulse to go strutting in the old uniform today.” The Avenger feels at home here among his admirers on this warm afternoon. More at home than he would behind the walls of Avengers Mansion itself.
However, as he passes a small side-street, Hawkeye’s peace turns out to be short lived. From an old warehouse a block away, Clint sees a clearly distressed woman charge out its front door and tumble down to the pavement in front. She sees the hero and screams out, “Help! Please, oh God. Help me!” Hawkeye turns in her direction as the woman staggers back to her feet. But before the hero can do more than take a couple steps toward her, a white-gloved hand reaches out of the open warehouse door and grabs the woman violently. In one blurring motion, the sinister hand yanks the female back through the door …then slams it shut. His sprint across the alley takes Hawkeye only seconds, and is not slowed at all by the stringing of the shock arrow he accomplishes at the same time. “All right, hero. It’s time to earn your fame,” thinks the bowman to himself as he sports a darkly determined face. Hawkeye crashes through a side window of the warehouse thinking, “Whoever’s causing this trouble didn’t count on the world’s greatest archer getting involved. Still, I gotta be prepared for anything.”
The Avenger lands crouched, arrow drawn, and ready for action. However, what he sees baffles him. Four figures stand around him arms folded, smiling at the adventurer. One of them has white gloves, a mustache, goatee, and an unfamiliar costume. Two other costumed (and just as unfamiliar) men stand near the first man. One wears a red costume while the other sports a bizarre looking armored outfit. Moreover, on the other side of the white-gloved villain stands the woman he rushed in to rescue. She seems far from a victim now as she beams at Clint with a malicious grin. “Whoa! Looks like ole’ Hawk’s been snookered,” thinks the archer as he gulps.
“Good evening, Hawkeye. We’ve been waiting for you. I’m afraid you will find any signal devices quite useless in here. You see, you are very much at the complete mercy of Othello D’Vem and his Malevolence Union.” Upon finishing his statement, the mustached villain gestures to his two costumed companions. “However, only two from my organization are required to deal with this Avenger.” Othello takes the woman by the arm courtingly, and the two walk away arm-in-arm from the stunned archer. “Come my dear, we are through here. Our colleagues will bring our purple-garbed prize to us after he has been subdued.” The couple begins to glow briefly … and then both disappear magically. “We shall await your arrival, Avenger.”
Hawkeye holds his head in disbelief at first, and then once more tenses his bow. “Runnin’ out on me, eh? Not only do I fall into a trap, but I get insulted to boot. I guess I’ll just take my frustration out on you guys then.” He turns back determinedly to the two villains.
The armored foe flies up into the air with the help of two small, round metal disks underneath each of his feet. “Not so fast, hero. I think it’s time I introduced myself.” In response, Hawkeye fires two arrows in the flying man’s direction. “Your name’s Mud to me, flyboy! I want to talk to Mr. Mustache again. And if I have to go through you to get to him, fine by me!”
Hawkeye’s flying foe waves his hands a little and three round, flat metal shields form in front of him from pieces of his own armor. The two fired shafts explode harmlessly against the floating shields. “Not so fast, Jabronie! … My name’s Thulkon,” cackles the villain. “I have these telekinetic powers. Thing is, they only work on this metal called mentallium. Fortunately, it’s the same stuff my armor is made out of.” As if in response to Thulkon’s words, the metal shields start to dissolve and transform. “I can do more than just make it fly around too.” The shields slowly become four long objects. “I can make it take any shape I choose.” Before Hawkeye’s startled eyes, the metal has transformed into four, long, floating daggers. “Like so!” With a wave of his hand, the daggers speed toward the startled archer.
“Oh mama!,” is all Hawk has time to blurt out before he is forced to dive behind a bunch of crates for safety. Thinking he is safe for at least a minute, Hawkeye wipes some sweat away from his brow. However, he is shocked back to reality when he witnesses the blades turn in midair and start to follow him again. “Holleee! These bozos are for real!,” thinks Hawkeye to himself as he deftly sidesteps the daggers while reaching into his quiver for another arrow. “If I want to remain the idol of millions, I need to get off the defensive…” Clint fires the shaft in Thulkon’s direction. “…And take some initiative!”
The smoke arrow explodes yards in front of the villain rendering him blind to anything around him. Yet, before Thulkon can plan his next move, a second arrow (this one a thick metal one) comes flying in through the smoke cloud and cracks him across the head. The low thud tells Hawkeye that his opponent has fallen to the floor. “Nothing like a good ‘crowbar’ arrow to do your dirty work. Now where is Thulkie’s sidekick?” As if in response to Clint’s question, a man flying at an amazingly high speed flies through the smoke cloud causing it to disperse. “Whoa! Speak of the Devil.”
“Thulkon may be an overconfident jerk, Hawkeye; but Red Wind isn’t half the pushover that fool was. Get ready for a beating!” The boisterous villain leaves a red trail in the air behind him as he flies. In one blurring motion, Hawkeye strings and fires a flash arrow at his approaching foe; temporarily blinding him. “What say we skip it and get right to the good-guy victory?,” taunts the archer back. With his next move, the Avenger turns and fires a blast arrow at the warehouse wall; blowing a hole in it. “I’m a lot less confident about this than I sound. This whole set-up favors the ambushers. A strategic retreat could even the odds back up.” Hawkeye turns again and fires an electro-shock arrow at the flying Red Wind. “But I’m not leaving until I give Reddy his goodnight kiss.”
Much to the archer’s dismay, Red Wind shows off his power by changing his flight direction then circling around after the arrow. “You’re an idiot to think you can beat my speed with these annoyances!” Astonishingly, Red Wind catches the arrow in midair. “I can match the swiftness of anything you can throw at me…” The arrow is flung back at the awed archer. “…And use it against you! …Speed kills, my friend.”
“Son of a Crud! What has America’s idol gotten himself into now?,” thinks Hawkeye to himself as he ducks the exploding arrow. Realizing that his foe way outclasses him in terms of power, the archer seeks the advantage of the high ground by climbing to the top of a stack of crates. Meanwhile, Red Wind brags on his strength by mowing down as many boxes as he can while he flies. “Haha … run all you wish to fool! There is no escape from someone this powerful!” Red Wind then turns his sights back to the hero, looking to mow him down as well. “I got you in my crosshairs. You’re gonna be the first hero killed by a human bullet!” Hawkeye waits until Red Wind is close enough… then … he tosses a concussion arrow in the villains direction from behind his back with his right hand.
“Awww, can it will ya?,” spouts the archer defiantly. “I may not be as powerful as you. But you don’t get to be an Avenger as long as I have without some smarts.” The look of abject horror on Red Wind’s face as he is unable to halt his progress, is contrasted sharply with Hawk’s mischievous grin as he hops down off the crate to safety as the arrow explodes with the desired effect.
“I better call the Avengers and let them know someone’s gunning for them,” thinks Hawkeye as he observes Red Wind’s unconscious form. “Wait, where did Thulkie go?,” thinks Hawk a second too late as three metal balls slam into him from behind. He slumps to the floor where blackness finally overtakes him.
NEXT: Remember the Man Who Destroyed the Avengers???
By C.M. King
“Oh yeah! This is what it’s all about…,” thinks Hawkeye to himself as he walks down the busy Manhattan sidewalk in all his purple-clad glory. Passersby stare, gossip to each other, and point excitedly at the famous Avenger. His smile grows with each passing pair of curious eyes on him. “…the adulation of the public, the roar of the crowd. It makes facin’ badies like Ultron worth all the pain. I’m glad I gave into the impulse to go strutting in the old uniform today.” The Avenger feels at home here among his admirers on this warm afternoon. More at home than he would behind the walls of Avengers Mansion itself.
However, as he passes a small side-street, Hawkeye’s peace turns out to be short lived. From an old warehouse a block away, Clint sees a clearly distressed woman charge out its front door and tumble down to the pavement in front. She sees the hero and screams out, “Help! Please, oh God. Help me!” Hawkeye turns in her direction as the woman staggers back to her feet. But before the hero can do more than take a couple steps toward her, a white-gloved hand reaches out of the open warehouse door and grabs the woman violently. In one blurring motion, the sinister hand yanks the female back through the door …then slams it shut. His sprint across the alley takes Hawkeye only seconds, and is not slowed at all by the stringing of the shock arrow he accomplishes at the same time. “All right, hero. It’s time to earn your fame,” thinks the bowman to himself as he sports a darkly determined face. Hawkeye crashes through a side window of the warehouse thinking, “Whoever’s causing this trouble didn’t count on the world’s greatest archer getting involved. Still, I gotta be prepared for anything.”
The Avenger lands crouched, arrow drawn, and ready for action. However, what he sees baffles him. Four figures stand around him arms folded, smiling at the adventurer. One of them has white gloves, a mustache, goatee, and an unfamiliar costume. Two other costumed (and just as unfamiliar) men stand near the first man. One wears a red costume while the other sports a bizarre looking armored outfit. Moreover, on the other side of the white-gloved villain stands the woman he rushed in to rescue. She seems far from a victim now as she beams at Clint with a malicious grin. “Whoa! Looks like ole’ Hawk’s been snookered,” thinks the archer as he gulps.
“Good evening, Hawkeye. We’ve been waiting for you. I’m afraid you will find any signal devices quite useless in here. You see, you are very much at the complete mercy of Othello D’Vem and his Malevolence Union.” Upon finishing his statement, the mustached villain gestures to his two costumed companions. “However, only two from my organization are required to deal with this Avenger.” Othello takes the woman by the arm courtingly, and the two walk away arm-in-arm from the stunned archer. “Come my dear, we are through here. Our colleagues will bring our purple-garbed prize to us after he has been subdued.” The couple begins to glow briefly … and then both disappear magically. “We shall await your arrival, Avenger.”
Hawkeye holds his head in disbelief at first, and then once more tenses his bow. “Runnin’ out on me, eh? Not only do I fall into a trap, but I get insulted to boot. I guess I’ll just take my frustration out on you guys then.” He turns back determinedly to the two villains.
The armored foe flies up into the air with the help of two small, round metal disks underneath each of his feet. “Not so fast, hero. I think it’s time I introduced myself.” In response, Hawkeye fires two arrows in the flying man’s direction. “Your name’s Mud to me, flyboy! I want to talk to Mr. Mustache again. And if I have to go through you to get to him, fine by me!”
Hawkeye’s flying foe waves his hands a little and three round, flat metal shields form in front of him from pieces of his own armor. The two fired shafts explode harmlessly against the floating shields. “Not so fast, Jabronie! … My name’s Thulkon,” cackles the villain. “I have these telekinetic powers. Thing is, they only work on this metal called mentallium. Fortunately, it’s the same stuff my armor is made out of.” As if in response to Thulkon’s words, the metal shields start to dissolve and transform. “I can do more than just make it fly around too.” The shields slowly become four long objects. “I can make it take any shape I choose.” Before Hawkeye’s startled eyes, the metal has transformed into four, long, floating daggers. “Like so!” With a wave of his hand, the daggers speed toward the startled archer.
“Oh mama!,” is all Hawk has time to blurt out before he is forced to dive behind a bunch of crates for safety. Thinking he is safe for at least a minute, Hawkeye wipes some sweat away from his brow. However, he is shocked back to reality when he witnesses the blades turn in midair and start to follow him again. “Holleee! These bozos are for real!,” thinks Hawkeye to himself as he deftly sidesteps the daggers while reaching into his quiver for another arrow. “If I want to remain the idol of millions, I need to get off the defensive…” Clint fires the shaft in Thulkon’s direction. “…And take some initiative!”
The smoke arrow explodes yards in front of the villain rendering him blind to anything around him. Yet, before Thulkon can plan his next move, a second arrow (this one a thick metal one) comes flying in through the smoke cloud and cracks him across the head. The low thud tells Hawkeye that his opponent has fallen to the floor. “Nothing like a good ‘crowbar’ arrow to do your dirty work. Now where is Thulkie’s sidekick?” As if in response to Clint’s question, a man flying at an amazingly high speed flies through the smoke cloud causing it to disperse. “Whoa! Speak of the Devil.”
“Thulkon may be an overconfident jerk, Hawkeye; but Red Wind isn’t half the pushover that fool was. Get ready for a beating!” The boisterous villain leaves a red trail in the air behind him as he flies. In one blurring motion, Hawkeye strings and fires a flash arrow at his approaching foe; temporarily blinding him. “What say we skip it and get right to the good-guy victory?,” taunts the archer back. With his next move, the Avenger turns and fires a blast arrow at the warehouse wall; blowing a hole in it. “I’m a lot less confident about this than I sound. This whole set-up favors the ambushers. A strategic retreat could even the odds back up.” Hawkeye turns again and fires an electro-shock arrow at the flying Red Wind. “But I’m not leaving until I give Reddy his goodnight kiss.”
Much to the archer’s dismay, Red Wind shows off his power by changing his flight direction then circling around after the arrow. “You’re an idiot to think you can beat my speed with these annoyances!” Astonishingly, Red Wind catches the arrow in midair. “I can match the swiftness of anything you can throw at me…” The arrow is flung back at the awed archer. “…And use it against you! …Speed kills, my friend.”
“Son of a Crud! What has America’s idol gotten himself into now?,” thinks Hawkeye to himself as he ducks the exploding arrow. Realizing that his foe way outclasses him in terms of power, the archer seeks the advantage of the high ground by climbing to the top of a stack of crates. Meanwhile, Red Wind brags on his strength by mowing down as many boxes as he can while he flies. “Haha … run all you wish to fool! There is no escape from someone this powerful!” Red Wind then turns his sights back to the hero, looking to mow him down as well. “I got you in my crosshairs. You’re gonna be the first hero killed by a human bullet!” Hawkeye waits until Red Wind is close enough… then … he tosses a concussion arrow in the villains direction from behind his back with his right hand.
“Awww, can it will ya?,” spouts the archer defiantly. “I may not be as powerful as you. But you don’t get to be an Avenger as long as I have without some smarts.” The look of abject horror on Red Wind’s face as he is unable to halt his progress, is contrasted sharply with Hawk’s mischievous grin as he hops down off the crate to safety as the arrow explodes with the desired effect.
“I better call the Avengers and let them know someone’s gunning for them,” thinks Hawkeye as he observes Red Wind’s unconscious form. “Wait, where did Thulkie go?,” thinks Hawk a second too late as three metal balls slam into him from behind. He slumps to the floor where blackness finally overtakes him.
NEXT: Remember the Man Who Destroyed the Avengers???
Monday, October 6, 2008
Cris writes a poem
I am the Rain
And sometimes I fall
Upon your troubled head
Another annoyance to an already
Sufferable day
And I am sorry,
Not like the other times
When I am a welcome release
And you can soak in the pleasure
Of my rippling touch
And spend a moment watering
A day's dreams.
I come in many forms
And leave many different effects
And you can be sure of seeing me again.
And anytime you need to be reminded
Think on me
And I'll fall from your eye
And carress your cheek.
-Cristian K.
And sometimes I fall
Upon your troubled head
Another annoyance to an already
Sufferable day
And I am sorry,
Not like the other times
When I am a welcome release
And you can soak in the pleasure
Of my rippling touch
And spend a moment watering
A day's dreams.
I come in many forms
And leave many different effects
And you can be sure of seeing me again.
And anytime you need to be reminded
Think on me
And I'll fall from your eye
And carress your cheek.
-Cristian K.
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 1 : Rendezvous With Destiny
By C. M. King
Everything was packed and ready to go for the dream weekend in New York City. Months of carefully thought-out planning looked to be working itself to perfection. Before me the airport terminal seemed to be a welcoming through a gateway to a brief escape that would be much better than the life I was currently living. With this thought, I even managed a relaxed smile for the first time in a long time.
After I walked through airport security I would be safe. I could just sit back there and wait for Erica at the boarding gate. If he came with her, he wouldn’t be able to go past the security check-point without a ticket. That might possibly be the only good thing to come from 9-11. Upon first sight of her I should be able to tell if everything had gone right – the code had been all arranged. She would be wearing her Pink Panther t-shirt if everything was cool. If there was trouble, or he was around the airport; she’d be wearing Batman. That meant ‘Do Not Approach!’
I didn’t see her anywhere near the ticket counter. I figured I must have beaten her there. Nothing left for me to do except to print up my E-Ticket from the terminal machine, clear security, and wait for the most romantic and definitely the most erotic weekend of my thirty-two, year-old life.
Everything was going so perfectly. And then the shit completely hit the fan. Christ! How could I have been so stupid!? I knew I had been a total idiot the second I put my ID into the E-Ticket machine. There it was on the screen. My name popped up on it in huge letters….and so did hers—right next to mine. Damn! If her husband insisted on driving her to the airport (and I thought he might) we would be completely screwed. All that careful planning ….ruined by one bonehead mistake. It seemed unfair. But nothing about having an affair is ever easy.
We had put both of our tickets on my credit card so that her husband couldn’t find anything on her card statement (he was nice enough to search through them). We ended up getting the tickets together on my card to avoid any hassles. However, since we did order them together…they appeared as a ticket for a party of two. It read…”Tickets 1 and 2 of 2…Donald Bennet and Erica Vlakis”, right in front of my face on the screen. Cursing to myself, I printed mine up. But getting hers was gonna be a problem.
Shit! Now I had to think fast. I’d have to risk a call to her cell phone, but not from mine. The terminal pay phone was much better. I dialed her number and found her cell phone had been turned off. Would’ve been a smart move of hers if things were going well, but they weren’t. A new plan had to be thought up.
I decided to wait in the lobby inconspicuously and try to wave her off to a corner where I could slip her a note of the danger before she could check in. Not the best plan in the world, but I was desperate.
Too Late! I noticed both of them the second I took a seat on a cushioned chair in the waiting area with my notepad. She saw me too. The look of terror on her face as she spotted me almost matched my own. He looked right at me too, but I didn’t believe he recognized who I was. From the way he had her dragging around in his grip, I figured he was probably too busy grilling her about who she might meet in New York to notice. Good thing for me. I had the feeling that Mr. Nosey would insist on driving her to the airport. I guess that’s something else I can add to the list of reasons I dislike him.
But even fear couldn’t hide her beauty. Erica was a statuesque 5’ 7”, with olive skin (from her half-greek,half-german heritage), soft brown eyes, and an ass that had a perfect plumpness to it inside her jeans. She was ten years my senior…but she sure as Hell didn’t look it. One look from her was all I needed to know how bad the situation was. What bothered me the most about seeing her walk in, however, was that she was wearing Pink Panther; and this occasion certainly didn’t call for that grinning over-sized, pussy cat. You got your signals crossed up, baby!
The two stood in line to punch up her E-Ticket and invite a certain disaster. All I could do now was sit and wait helplessly while the whole thing fell apart. I moved nearer the line they were standing in and turned my back to them while I pretended to rummage through my carry-on bag for something. Peter had seen me once, briefly, in a careless moment. But I guess I didn’t leave too much of an impression. Thank goodness for small favors. From where I was, I could just barely make out what they were saying. In quite angry tones I heard him say, “who’s the other seat assignment for? You’re not getting on this plane until I find out!”
“Peter, calm down, you’re embarrassing me.”
“I don’t care. All I want to know is why there were two seat numbers printed on your flight itinerary?”
“I-I dunno. Maybe it has something to do with my seat on the return flight.”
“Oh my God! I’m not stupid you know. Someone is going with you, aren’t they?”
“Of course not, do you see me with anyone?”, Erica countered bravely. Then added..”and you’ve searched through my bag about three times now. What makes you think there’s anything to find if you didn’t see anything the first time?”
Only one passenger separated those two from the head of the E-Ticket machine. And he was just finishing removing his newly printed boarding pass from the computer’s jaws. Only seconds remained before my name would stand revealed. I gritted my teeth. That’s when merciful fate stepped in.
Fueled by impatience, her husband turned away from the now unoccupied ticket machine and toward a helpless airline employee. “I demand to know who has the seat next to her, “ bellowed Peter at the stunned man.
“I-I’m afraid I don’t know, sir. That’s not information we can give out.” Before the angry husband could insist upon his point, Erica made her play. She mustered up her courage and shouted, “That’s it, Peter! I can’t take anymore of your embarrassment. I’m getting out of here. You’ve ruined my trip, I hope you’re happy!”
She stormed off and away from the ticket machine, him trailing after her in a rage. Good Girl! They both left the terminal after that. I decided to retire to the boarding gate where I knew it was safe. I thanked God for our good fortune in not being discovered and prayed that he would be willing to grant me one more miracle.
Forty minutes went by while I waited, and still she didn’t show. Only ten minutes left till the flight departed. I couldn’t afford to sit and wait anymore. I made my way back into the terminal. I saw no sign of her there, but I saw her husband sitting against the far wall to the ticket counter all alone. I gulped hard and collected my wits. No way the trip was gonna happen now. Peter may have found out everything and was waiting to confront me. But I still needed to get my baggage off the plane or lose a good deal of my belongings. I held my nerves together and approached the baggage check-in desk to get my suitcase unloaded from the plane in full view of Peter. The attendant was expectedly not too happy to have to remove a bag from a flight only a few minutes before it was scheduled to take off. Ten minutes later I had my suitcase in my hand and was left with the prospect of having to leave the terminal by walking right in front of her husband. To my great shock he just let me pass by unmolested. Maybe he still didn’t know who I was, but that didn’t explain what he was doing alone in the terminal.
I drove straight home still in a stunned silence by what had transpired. Not only had my big weekend been shot down in flames, but the odds were that our entire affair was ruined as well. Her phone was still off, and I could only imagine what she was going through right now. It may take him awhile but eventually his interrogation would wear her down and he would find out everything. A beautiful relationship that was starting to reach incredible heights might now be reduced to the scrap pile. I needed gin, and I needed a lot of it.
I poured myself a double of Beefeaters the second I walked in the door to my apartment. I was only able to take one pull at my drink before a knock at the door interrupted me. I got ready for anything…maybe Peter had followed me home. I flung open the door expectantly. It was Erica, and she looked pathetic.
By C. M. King
Everything was packed and ready to go for the dream weekend in New York City. Months of carefully thought-out planning looked to be working itself to perfection. Before me the airport terminal seemed to be a welcoming through a gateway to a brief escape that would be much better than the life I was currently living. With this thought, I even managed a relaxed smile for the first time in a long time.
After I walked through airport security I would be safe. I could just sit back there and wait for Erica at the boarding gate. If he came with her, he wouldn’t be able to go past the security check-point without a ticket. That might possibly be the only good thing to come from 9-11. Upon first sight of her I should be able to tell if everything had gone right – the code had been all arranged. She would be wearing her Pink Panther t-shirt if everything was cool. If there was trouble, or he was around the airport; she’d be wearing Batman. That meant ‘Do Not Approach!’
I didn’t see her anywhere near the ticket counter. I figured I must have beaten her there. Nothing left for me to do except to print up my E-Ticket from the terminal machine, clear security, and wait for the most romantic and definitely the most erotic weekend of my thirty-two, year-old life.
Everything was going so perfectly. And then the shit completely hit the fan. Christ! How could I have been so stupid!? I knew I had been a total idiot the second I put my ID into the E-Ticket machine. There it was on the screen. My name popped up on it in huge letters….and so did hers—right next to mine. Damn! If her husband insisted on driving her to the airport (and I thought he might) we would be completely screwed. All that careful planning ….ruined by one bonehead mistake. It seemed unfair. But nothing about having an affair is ever easy.
We had put both of our tickets on my credit card so that her husband couldn’t find anything on her card statement (he was nice enough to search through them). We ended up getting the tickets together on my card to avoid any hassles. However, since we did order them together…they appeared as a ticket for a party of two. It read…”Tickets 1 and 2 of 2…Donald Bennet and Erica Vlakis”, right in front of my face on the screen. Cursing to myself, I printed mine up. But getting hers was gonna be a problem.
Shit! Now I had to think fast. I’d have to risk a call to her cell phone, but not from mine. The terminal pay phone was much better. I dialed her number and found her cell phone had been turned off. Would’ve been a smart move of hers if things were going well, but they weren’t. A new plan had to be thought up.
I decided to wait in the lobby inconspicuously and try to wave her off to a corner where I could slip her a note of the danger before she could check in. Not the best plan in the world, but I was desperate.
Too Late! I noticed both of them the second I took a seat on a cushioned chair in the waiting area with my notepad. She saw me too. The look of terror on her face as she spotted me almost matched my own. He looked right at me too, but I didn’t believe he recognized who I was. From the way he had her dragging around in his grip, I figured he was probably too busy grilling her about who she might meet in New York to notice. Good thing for me. I had the feeling that Mr. Nosey would insist on driving her to the airport. I guess that’s something else I can add to the list of reasons I dislike him.
But even fear couldn’t hide her beauty. Erica was a statuesque 5’ 7”, with olive skin (from her half-greek,half-german heritage), soft brown eyes, and an ass that had a perfect plumpness to it inside her jeans. She was ten years my senior…but she sure as Hell didn’t look it. One look from her was all I needed to know how bad the situation was. What bothered me the most about seeing her walk in, however, was that she was wearing Pink Panther; and this occasion certainly didn’t call for that grinning over-sized, pussy cat. You got your signals crossed up, baby!
The two stood in line to punch up her E-Ticket and invite a certain disaster. All I could do now was sit and wait helplessly while the whole thing fell apart. I moved nearer the line they were standing in and turned my back to them while I pretended to rummage through my carry-on bag for something. Peter had seen me once, briefly, in a careless moment. But I guess I didn’t leave too much of an impression. Thank goodness for small favors. From where I was, I could just barely make out what they were saying. In quite angry tones I heard him say, “who’s the other seat assignment for? You’re not getting on this plane until I find out!”
“Peter, calm down, you’re embarrassing me.”
“I don’t care. All I want to know is why there were two seat numbers printed on your flight itinerary?”
“I-I dunno. Maybe it has something to do with my seat on the return flight.”
“Oh my God! I’m not stupid you know. Someone is going with you, aren’t they?”
“Of course not, do you see me with anyone?”, Erica countered bravely. Then added..”and you’ve searched through my bag about three times now. What makes you think there’s anything to find if you didn’t see anything the first time?”
Only one passenger separated those two from the head of the E-Ticket machine. And he was just finishing removing his newly printed boarding pass from the computer’s jaws. Only seconds remained before my name would stand revealed. I gritted my teeth. That’s when merciful fate stepped in.
Fueled by impatience, her husband turned away from the now unoccupied ticket machine and toward a helpless airline employee. “I demand to know who has the seat next to her, “ bellowed Peter at the stunned man.
“I-I’m afraid I don’t know, sir. That’s not information we can give out.” Before the angry husband could insist upon his point, Erica made her play. She mustered up her courage and shouted, “That’s it, Peter! I can’t take anymore of your embarrassment. I’m getting out of here. You’ve ruined my trip, I hope you’re happy!”
She stormed off and away from the ticket machine, him trailing after her in a rage. Good Girl! They both left the terminal after that. I decided to retire to the boarding gate where I knew it was safe. I thanked God for our good fortune in not being discovered and prayed that he would be willing to grant me one more miracle.
Forty minutes went by while I waited, and still she didn’t show. Only ten minutes left till the flight departed. I couldn’t afford to sit and wait anymore. I made my way back into the terminal. I saw no sign of her there, but I saw her husband sitting against the far wall to the ticket counter all alone. I gulped hard and collected my wits. No way the trip was gonna happen now. Peter may have found out everything and was waiting to confront me. But I still needed to get my baggage off the plane or lose a good deal of my belongings. I held my nerves together and approached the baggage check-in desk to get my suitcase unloaded from the plane in full view of Peter. The attendant was expectedly not too happy to have to remove a bag from a flight only a few minutes before it was scheduled to take off. Ten minutes later I had my suitcase in my hand and was left with the prospect of having to leave the terminal by walking right in front of her husband. To my great shock he just let me pass by unmolested. Maybe he still didn’t know who I was, but that didn’t explain what he was doing alone in the terminal.
I drove straight home still in a stunned silence by what had transpired. Not only had my big weekend been shot down in flames, but the odds were that our entire affair was ruined as well. Her phone was still off, and I could only imagine what she was going through right now. It may take him awhile but eventually his interrogation would wear her down and he would find out everything. A beautiful relationship that was starting to reach incredible heights might now be reduced to the scrap pile. I needed gin, and I needed a lot of it.
I poured myself a double of Beefeaters the second I walked in the door to my apartment. I was only able to take one pull at my drink before a knock at the door interrupted me. I got ready for anything…maybe Peter had followed me home. I flung open the door expectantly. It was Erica, and she looked pathetic.
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