Post by jordan on Dec 1, 2013 15:09:03 GMT -5
All Star Marvel Presents
Daredevil/Punisher
In
A World Without Fear
Chapter I
Operation Black Storm
By Jordan
*
At first there was only darkness--an ever-present darkness, a darkness that swept over and consumed all, a darkness that nothing could pierce and everything was left destroyed in its wake. This darkness was one, it was whole, and it was fierce. And then, one day, the Darkness splintered. And through the cracks came light.
And this light was astounding, amazing, astonishing--and it was powerful. Never before had the Darkness seen such a worthy foe, and so battle was done. The Darkness created warriors, fierce warriors, warriors prepared to give their everything to destroy the Light. And in response to this, the Light created its own warriors, and these hands of the all-powerful beings waged war against one another and this war was unlike any recorded war.
This was a war between two undeniable forces, two forces that had everything to gain and everything to lose, and when they fought they fought with the might to shake mountains. They moved oceans and flattened ranges. They dried planes and the broke the world until it was unrecognizable.
And when it was over, the forces were no more, the forces had died--but their hands remained. And together their hands came, and together their hands made peace. The hands of darkness were subdued and became the ever-mortal Humans, while the hands of light became their rulers, things only revered in legends--gods and immortals.
And these Humans, these hands of darkness, they harnessed their last powers and created the Grand Temple, a temple to the hands of light, and the hands of darkness were now humans, nothing more, nothing less.
When yet another war was wage between the two factions, the Light was forced to fight stronger than ever before. Their temple taken from them by its creators--the humans--they became weak, almost powerless. One by one, each and every warrior fell until not even half remained. And they ran and ran and ran until finally they came upon a faction of the humans, the Chinese, and these Chinese took in the remaining Hand of the Light, and together the two factions waged war, and though neither side would be victorious, the Light had survived in its Hand.
And to this day, the Hand of Light still plots its revenge on the legacy of darkness.
*
Years Ago, the Amazon
Echo. Echo. Echo. Echo. Echo. Echo. Echo. Echo.
The sounds of our feet hitting the cold, hard Amazonian ground and the sound the snapping twigs reverberating throughout the rainforest and the defining sound of the gunshots being fired backwards as our bodies contort in ungodly ways, carrying us further and further away from our strange attackers.
My eyes search through the never-ending branches and leaves, the mud shooting up and covering my uniform. I hear my partner, Bryan Kenyon, shout out to me: "Hurry, Castle, or we won't make it!" I didn't mean disrespect, and, in all honesty, I hadn't even remembered that Kenyon is my supervisor.
"Stuff it up your ass, Kenyon! I can see the fuckin' things behind us!" The anger boils inside of me, pouring in with my fear and my terror and leaves my on the brink of distress.
I look back again and see for the second time what our attackers truly are. At first glance, I had seen them cloaked in bright red uniforms, things that covered their visages and showed no sign of their humanity. Now, I see that I was right.
As they gain ground on us second by second, I see no sign of their humanity, I see nothing that qualifies them as anything. The closest thing I can think of to describe them as is ninjas. We're being chased through the Amazon by ninjas.
Kenyon fires off a few more rounds and when they impact with our pursuers, my heart almost explodes in shock. The bullets hit like they are men, but no blood, no hesitation, no sign that the entry affected them, not even phased them.
This is when I feel the first tears boil from my eyes.
I face my partner and yell at the top of my lungs, hoping he would hear me over the sounds of the gunshots, the breaking branches and his own fear. "Kenyon, if this is the end, I just want you to know--"
"Will you stop shouting your goddamn pussy shit and hurry the fuck up, I see somewhere to go in up ahead!" For the first time since the ninjas attacked us, I feel a weird emotion--relief. We run faster than ever before and when finally we reach the small, strange opening at the edge of the forest, tears burst from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. Finally, finally we have reached salvation.
But from behind me I hear only a few words from the ninjas, the only words they've said at all: "The Hand of the Light shall never fall. Never fall. Never fall." And once again, through the fear and the remorse, I feel once more anger and pain and fear.
*
Now, New York City
He stands proud and tall--like a king preparing his troops for war--in front of the masses, his gaze never lessons and his stance never weakens. This is a man who has seen war, seen death and violence, who has killed and maimed and watched his friends die, and then come home to his family with words too wise to hail from that of a normal man--but only from that mind of a man blessed by God.
The congregation stands and sings his name and his praise, they sing for the mighty and condemn the weak. They are the mighty congregation, the many congregation, of St. Salise of Rome. And they cheer and they roar and they cry and they weep and the mist covers their eyes and the fires rise up from pits unseen and the light stops shinning. But never does one of them stop singing--not even for a moment.
This mighty man--this unnamed king--finally steps before them and silence so loud it shatters the dreams of the helpless and the sick; of the meek and the weak; and it sweeps over the planes and through the great chasms and the sisters cry and the heroes fall; the strongest steel bends and a blade cuts a diamond; and the rivers stop rushing and the Heavens light with the fires of Hell.
Before them an angel falls; its wings singed and its blonde hair died black, his eyes filled with terror and scars splayed across his chest. This angel calls out "No, stop, do not listen to this man! He is not an apostle of the Heavens but an agent of the Hells! To listen to him is to blasphemy against your Lord and God, your Christ and Savior!" With those words, the Angel falls silent, and dead, his wings broken and his pale skin turning black. No one reads it because no one cares--splayed across his chest, the scars spell the words "In the Name of..." Could this mean something, or is the darkness trying to trick us with illusions of light?
But soon as this angel stops speaking his blasphemous words, the congregation begins to listen. The words of the angel fall flat and rain falls from the dark day sky. As the Heavens weep, this man speaks with power and might commanding respect and admiration:
"Listen to this abomination and all will fall to the holes of Hell! An Angel he is but one come risen from the flaming pits! His wings are singed and he tells you to go against your heroes and saviors! An Angel does not tell one to fight Heaven but to accept it, so can we call this demon an angel?! No! But it matters not, because I have not come before you today to speak of a living blaspheme! But today I have instead come before you to tell you the truths of that land we call Heaven, of that kingdom where our Lord sits above us and watches down without lending a hand to the helpless!
"While you stand before me and weep and cry and praise thy Lord's name, you blaspheme against everything that you have ever known! The Lord is in the darkest of hours as Heaven crumbles and his angels speak against him! He would not want you singing him praise as he does that which he has vowed not to do--that which he has forced you to vow against as well!
"And yet you continue to do so, to praise his name like it is your own and to worship him and cry at his stead! But all our Father wants of us to fight him and to kill him and to take his throne away from him and make what he has made better by the sheer will of your hearts! To make what has fallen rise up again and to break thy bonds unbearable and to let stop the constant oppression and alienation of your unalienable rights!
"So I call upon you, my sisters and my brothers, so join me at the forefront of this, our enlightenment, our revolution, our making of kings! And in this, our darkest hour, let us make justified all that has been lost to us throughout the centuries and the broken hearts that cry out to us and break that cord and mangle thy wind--by being those who bring back the humanity in the human race!"
And the crowds cheer and they weep and they rush the podium to see their hero and to shake his hand and to love and to admire him. And he laughs and he smiles and they cry and they fall, and they tumble and they trip over one another and, through the deadliest of affairs, they stand once more to race to their uncrowned king.
"But stop where you fall, my apostles of the new heaven, because this renaissance is just the beginning! Today--today we wage a war against thy Lord and his domain! We wage war against his heavens!" As the glass shatters and the tower crumbles, as the world shakes and demons praise, as fire consumes the souls of the forgotten and lets live the souls of the damned; as all of Earth falls into a horrid cacophony of monotony and yet, those men and women that this man called out as his apostles still cheer in their faith to the uncrowned king.
And from above stands weeping a man, staring down at his City Upon A Hill.
*
Years Ago, the Amazon
We stand still, taking in the sights around us. We can heat the ninjas outside. For some reason, they can't get in. I set down my weapon and light a fire. Instantly, Kenyon moves towards me and blows the fire out.
"You don't know what's down here! It could be worse than the goddamn ninjas!" I see the fear in his eyes. But my focus rests on the strange figure behind him.
"Kenyon, turn around." The fear in Kenyon's eyes escalates to what I hope is its apex. Kenyon slowly turns to see a seven-foot tall shadow with piercing red eyes. The only distinguishable feature aside from his eyes was a strange, purple cloak which he wore around his entire body, a hood folded up over his head. "Listen, Mister Cloaky Monster Guy, we didn't mean to impose, but we were being chased by these ninja things outside that we couldn't kill and this was the only shelter." Silence carves itself into the heart of the structure.
"They were the Hand, the Hand of the Light." Voice, chanting voices, come form every direction. Hundreds, thousands of them. Shadows cast onto the wall by the light of the flames. Kenyon falls to his knees a weeps.
"What the hell is the Hand of the Light?!"
"A legend so ancient we cannot remember. But you, Castle, that have murdered your family. They are everywhere, and they have found revenge. This man, Kenyon, has no one to live for, but you, you do. Three days ago you set foot in this forest and the Hand struck out against you by killing your family. You have been hurt by the hand, so you must join us."
"But...no...Jr...Martha...they can't be dead!" I pick up my gun and fire it at the shadow, but the bullets bounce around the wall at high speeds. One strikes me in the calf and I fall to my knees.
"We are not your enemy, we are your precursors. Humanity is darkness and your enemy is Light. We must defeat them, and you can help us.
"What about me?!" Kenyon screams at the shadow. The shadows eyes don't budge from mine.
"You have not been hurt by the Hand of the Light, you cannot be used so easily." Kenyon stands, his gun tossed to the floor.
"The hell do you mean I haven't been hurt?! My life was normal! Guns, war, starvation, debt! Now what the hell is going on?! I come on this mission, get chased by immortal ninjas and my partner is recruited by a talking shadow? They may not have killed by family, but I'll be damned if they did not hurt me!"
"You are wrong. Leave." The thousands of voices emerge once more and Kenyon stands unphased.
"If I leave then I will die."
"So be it, Bryan Kenyon, you are not of use. We will save this Earth if it is the last thing that we ever do." Kenyon turns to me, his tears are gone, his face is solemn.
"It's been nice working with you, kid. Have a nice life." He starts walking towards the opening of the structure--towards the Light.
"Kenyon, stop, you don't have to die." He keeps moving, faster with every step.
"Yeah, I do kid. I gotta die so you can live." And with that he takes a step, I hear a scream, and then silence once more. A chill runs down my spin as the shadow's hand clasps down on my shoulder.
"Today, Heaven's Light shall fall."
Next Time: Daredevil!!
Daredevil/Punisher
In
A World Without Fear
Chapter I
Operation Black Storm
By Jordan
*
At first there was only darkness--an ever-present darkness, a darkness that swept over and consumed all, a darkness that nothing could pierce and everything was left destroyed in its wake. This darkness was one, it was whole, and it was fierce. And then, one day, the Darkness splintered. And through the cracks came light.
And this light was astounding, amazing, astonishing--and it was powerful. Never before had the Darkness seen such a worthy foe, and so battle was done. The Darkness created warriors, fierce warriors, warriors prepared to give their everything to destroy the Light. And in response to this, the Light created its own warriors, and these hands of the all-powerful beings waged war against one another and this war was unlike any recorded war.
This was a war between two undeniable forces, two forces that had everything to gain and everything to lose, and when they fought they fought with the might to shake mountains. They moved oceans and flattened ranges. They dried planes and the broke the world until it was unrecognizable.
And when it was over, the forces were no more, the forces had died--but their hands remained. And together their hands came, and together their hands made peace. The hands of darkness were subdued and became the ever-mortal Humans, while the hands of light became their rulers, things only revered in legends--gods and immortals.
And these Humans, these hands of darkness, they harnessed their last powers and created the Grand Temple, a temple to the hands of light, and the hands of darkness were now humans, nothing more, nothing less.
When yet another war was wage between the two factions, the Light was forced to fight stronger than ever before. Their temple taken from them by its creators--the humans--they became weak, almost powerless. One by one, each and every warrior fell until not even half remained. And they ran and ran and ran until finally they came upon a faction of the humans, the Chinese, and these Chinese took in the remaining Hand of the Light, and together the two factions waged war, and though neither side would be victorious, the Light had survived in its Hand.
And to this day, the Hand of Light still plots its revenge on the legacy of darkness.
*
Years Ago, the Amazon
Echo. Echo. Echo. Echo. Echo. Echo. Echo. Echo.
The sounds of our feet hitting the cold, hard Amazonian ground and the sound the snapping twigs reverberating throughout the rainforest and the defining sound of the gunshots being fired backwards as our bodies contort in ungodly ways, carrying us further and further away from our strange attackers.
My eyes search through the never-ending branches and leaves, the mud shooting up and covering my uniform. I hear my partner, Bryan Kenyon, shout out to me: "Hurry, Castle, or we won't make it!" I didn't mean disrespect, and, in all honesty, I hadn't even remembered that Kenyon is my supervisor.
"Stuff it up your ass, Kenyon! I can see the fuckin' things behind us!" The anger boils inside of me, pouring in with my fear and my terror and leaves my on the brink of distress.
I look back again and see for the second time what our attackers truly are. At first glance, I had seen them cloaked in bright red uniforms, things that covered their visages and showed no sign of their humanity. Now, I see that I was right.
As they gain ground on us second by second, I see no sign of their humanity, I see nothing that qualifies them as anything. The closest thing I can think of to describe them as is ninjas. We're being chased through the Amazon by ninjas.
Kenyon fires off a few more rounds and when they impact with our pursuers, my heart almost explodes in shock. The bullets hit like they are men, but no blood, no hesitation, no sign that the entry affected them, not even phased them.
This is when I feel the first tears boil from my eyes.
I face my partner and yell at the top of my lungs, hoping he would hear me over the sounds of the gunshots, the breaking branches and his own fear. "Kenyon, if this is the end, I just want you to know--"
"Will you stop shouting your goddamn pussy shit and hurry the fuck up, I see somewhere to go in up ahead!" For the first time since the ninjas attacked us, I feel a weird emotion--relief. We run faster than ever before and when finally we reach the small, strange opening at the edge of the forest, tears burst from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. Finally, finally we have reached salvation.
But from behind me I hear only a few words from the ninjas, the only words they've said at all: "The Hand of the Light shall never fall. Never fall. Never fall." And once again, through the fear and the remorse, I feel once more anger and pain and fear.
*
Now, New York City
He stands proud and tall--like a king preparing his troops for war--in front of the masses, his gaze never lessons and his stance never weakens. This is a man who has seen war, seen death and violence, who has killed and maimed and watched his friends die, and then come home to his family with words too wise to hail from that of a normal man--but only from that mind of a man blessed by God.
The congregation stands and sings his name and his praise, they sing for the mighty and condemn the weak. They are the mighty congregation, the many congregation, of St. Salise of Rome. And they cheer and they roar and they cry and they weep and the mist covers their eyes and the fires rise up from pits unseen and the light stops shinning. But never does one of them stop singing--not even for a moment.
This mighty man--this unnamed king--finally steps before them and silence so loud it shatters the dreams of the helpless and the sick; of the meek and the weak; and it sweeps over the planes and through the great chasms and the sisters cry and the heroes fall; the strongest steel bends and a blade cuts a diamond; and the rivers stop rushing and the Heavens light with the fires of Hell.
Before them an angel falls; its wings singed and its blonde hair died black, his eyes filled with terror and scars splayed across his chest. This angel calls out "No, stop, do not listen to this man! He is not an apostle of the Heavens but an agent of the Hells! To listen to him is to blasphemy against your Lord and God, your Christ and Savior!" With those words, the Angel falls silent, and dead, his wings broken and his pale skin turning black. No one reads it because no one cares--splayed across his chest, the scars spell the words "In the Name of..." Could this mean something, or is the darkness trying to trick us with illusions of light?
But soon as this angel stops speaking his blasphemous words, the congregation begins to listen. The words of the angel fall flat and rain falls from the dark day sky. As the Heavens weep, this man speaks with power and might commanding respect and admiration:
"Listen to this abomination and all will fall to the holes of Hell! An Angel he is but one come risen from the flaming pits! His wings are singed and he tells you to go against your heroes and saviors! An Angel does not tell one to fight Heaven but to accept it, so can we call this demon an angel?! No! But it matters not, because I have not come before you today to speak of a living blaspheme! But today I have instead come before you to tell you the truths of that land we call Heaven, of that kingdom where our Lord sits above us and watches down without lending a hand to the helpless!
"While you stand before me and weep and cry and praise thy Lord's name, you blaspheme against everything that you have ever known! The Lord is in the darkest of hours as Heaven crumbles and his angels speak against him! He would not want you singing him praise as he does that which he has vowed not to do--that which he has forced you to vow against as well!
"And yet you continue to do so, to praise his name like it is your own and to worship him and cry at his stead! But all our Father wants of us to fight him and to kill him and to take his throne away from him and make what he has made better by the sheer will of your hearts! To make what has fallen rise up again and to break thy bonds unbearable and to let stop the constant oppression and alienation of your unalienable rights!
"So I call upon you, my sisters and my brothers, so join me at the forefront of this, our enlightenment, our revolution, our making of kings! And in this, our darkest hour, let us make justified all that has been lost to us throughout the centuries and the broken hearts that cry out to us and break that cord and mangle thy wind--by being those who bring back the humanity in the human race!"
And the crowds cheer and they weep and they rush the podium to see their hero and to shake his hand and to love and to admire him. And he laughs and he smiles and they cry and they fall, and they tumble and they trip over one another and, through the deadliest of affairs, they stand once more to race to their uncrowned king.
"But stop where you fall, my apostles of the new heaven, because this renaissance is just the beginning! Today--today we wage a war against thy Lord and his domain! We wage war against his heavens!" As the glass shatters and the tower crumbles, as the world shakes and demons praise, as fire consumes the souls of the forgotten and lets live the souls of the damned; as all of Earth falls into a horrid cacophony of monotony and yet, those men and women that this man called out as his apostles still cheer in their faith to the uncrowned king.
And from above stands weeping a man, staring down at his City Upon A Hill.
*
Years Ago, the Amazon
We stand still, taking in the sights around us. We can heat the ninjas outside. For some reason, they can't get in. I set down my weapon and light a fire. Instantly, Kenyon moves towards me and blows the fire out.
"You don't know what's down here! It could be worse than the goddamn ninjas!" I see the fear in his eyes. But my focus rests on the strange figure behind him.
"Kenyon, turn around." The fear in Kenyon's eyes escalates to what I hope is its apex. Kenyon slowly turns to see a seven-foot tall shadow with piercing red eyes. The only distinguishable feature aside from his eyes was a strange, purple cloak which he wore around his entire body, a hood folded up over his head. "Listen, Mister Cloaky Monster Guy, we didn't mean to impose, but we were being chased by these ninja things outside that we couldn't kill and this was the only shelter." Silence carves itself into the heart of the structure.
"They were the Hand, the Hand of the Light." Voice, chanting voices, come form every direction. Hundreds, thousands of them. Shadows cast onto the wall by the light of the flames. Kenyon falls to his knees a weeps.
"What the hell is the Hand of the Light?!"
"A legend so ancient we cannot remember. But you, Castle, that have murdered your family. They are everywhere, and they have found revenge. This man, Kenyon, has no one to live for, but you, you do. Three days ago you set foot in this forest and the Hand struck out against you by killing your family. You have been hurt by the hand, so you must join us."
"But...no...Jr...Martha...they can't be dead!" I pick up my gun and fire it at the shadow, but the bullets bounce around the wall at high speeds. One strikes me in the calf and I fall to my knees.
"We are not your enemy, we are your precursors. Humanity is darkness and your enemy is Light. We must defeat them, and you can help us.
"What about me?!" Kenyon screams at the shadow. The shadows eyes don't budge from mine.
"You have not been hurt by the Hand of the Light, you cannot be used so easily." Kenyon stands, his gun tossed to the floor.
"The hell do you mean I haven't been hurt?! My life was normal! Guns, war, starvation, debt! Now what the hell is going on?! I come on this mission, get chased by immortal ninjas and my partner is recruited by a talking shadow? They may not have killed by family, but I'll be damned if they did not hurt me!"
"You are wrong. Leave." The thousands of voices emerge once more and Kenyon stands unphased.
"If I leave then I will die."
"So be it, Bryan Kenyon, you are not of use. We will save this Earth if it is the last thing that we ever do." Kenyon turns to me, his tears are gone, his face is solemn.
"It's been nice working with you, kid. Have a nice life." He starts walking towards the opening of the structure--towards the Light.
"Kenyon, stop, you don't have to die." He keeps moving, faster with every step.
"Yeah, I do kid. I gotta die so you can live." And with that he takes a step, I hear a scream, and then silence once more. A chill runs down my spin as the shadow's hand clasps down on my shoulder.
"Today, Heaven's Light shall fall."
Next Time: Daredevil!!