Post by jordan on Aug 8, 2014 16:32:10 GMT -5
All Star Marvel Proudly Presents
Lucifer, the Hood, Michael Morbius & Doctor Strange
In
Dark City
Chapter V
Showdown
By Jordan
*
Tuesday, 10.22 PM
“Well, we’re here. Where are they?” Parker’s voice is impatient as he scans the cross-section looking for any sight of trouble. His hoodi is partially unzipped, showing off his signature swirling tattoo that everyone in New York will one day come to fear. The streetlight just yards away flickers.
“Hood, calm down. I told you at the diner. I told you on the walk over. I told you at the hideout. I’m telling you now. We can trust Don Fortunato, and if these two are with him, then we can trust them.” Just then, Parker notices a lone, hunched over figure standing in the alleyway just yards away. His breeze is cold and visible, his eyes beady and yellow. His long, flowing black hair floods out into the street-light.
“Who are you?!” Parker shouts, pulling his gun and pointing it at the figure. Lucifer quickly disarms Parker, pulling the gun inside of his trenchcoat.
“Parker, calm down. We don’t know who that is. What if it’s one of the Brothers?” Lucifer walks slowly forward, keeping his head firmly around the gun tucked away in his coat, just in case. “Brother?”
“Parker Robbins, you hold the stone.” The voice is airy and strange, they eyes contracting with every word.
“Excuse me?” Parker calls out, unholstering his own secondary weapon, Lucifer pulling the gun from his coat, both aimed squarely at the man in the alleyway.
“In the darkest of times, one became seven. Across the earth, seven will be found. I am the fourth, you are the first.”
“What is he talking about, Lucifer?” Lucifer ignores his son and fires three shots into the darkness. The yellow eyes disappear. “Lucifer, what was th—“
“RUN!” Lucifer hollers as he fires off a few more rounds into the figure, the figure swiftly dodging each round.
“I must reunite the seven!” The figure’s torn black cape billows in the wind as he lunges at Lucifer, knocking the firearm from his hands. Lucifer responds with a swift punch the creatures jaw. Parker fires several rounds into the monster’s head, only paralyzing it for a moment. Lucifer delivers a quick kick to the head that knocks the monster over—but only for a moment. “I must!” The monster sounds out, coming back to all-fours and lunging at Lucifer, biting deep into his neck. Lucifer screams out in pain only for a moment before the monster detaches itself, blood oozing from its fangs. Its eyes grow wide as it screams in pain.
“This is over!” Parker yells before unzipping his jacket the rest of the way. The swirling tattoo sets in motion as the edges of Parker’s jacket begin to move on their own. Parker’s eyes turn from the deep green into a bloody red. His teeth sharpen to a fine point as he drops his gun. “Who are you?!” He screams at the monster who has taken the time to regain itself.
“I am Michael Morbius, and I must reunite the seven.” The monster says in an almost inaudible whisper.
“Well it’s time to die, Michael Morbius!” Parker disappears into the darkness, leaving Morbius to ponder what the meaning of this action is. He glances over at Lucifer who stands leaning against a building, his arms crossed over his chest, the wound in his neck healed, a small smile cuts across his face. Morbius only has a moment to twist his head in confusion before Parker appears once more and jabs his clawed right hand through Morbius’s chest. Morbius spits up blood but doesn’t let it slow him down as he twists, yanking Parker’s arm from within him and throwing him against the wall.
“I must reunite—“
“We heard you the first damn time!” Parker fires off two long columns of fire from his palms, Morbius barely managing to dodge the two by ducking. Before Morbius can regain himself, Parker appears, a long knife at Morbius’s neck silences the night. “What are the seven, Michael Morbius?” But before another breeze can blow, Morbius disappears before their eyes. The night becomes silent, broken only by the clapping of two sets of hands.
“Well that…that was quite,”
“The show.” Two voices echo each other, one beginning the sentence and the next ending it. Two figures fall out of the shadows, their heads covered by a skull mask while their bodies are covered in skin-tight red and black spandex. “We are,”
“The Brothers Grimm.” Their voices are almost indistinguishable—their bodies, the same. The only way to tell them apart is the “Brother” on the left has a larger chest than that of the Brother on the right.
“And how fucking long have you been standing there?” Parker calls out, his demonic form slowly calming itself.
“Well, about six minutes,”
“Give or take an hour.” Both let out a small, girlish giggle.
“And you didn’t think to help?!” Parker screams, his demonic form no longer calming down. “You didn’t think that maybe we would DIE?!” Lucifer sees the look in Parker’s eyes and immediately steps in. Placing a hand on Parker’s shoulder, he closes his golden eyes and concentrates.
“Parker, you must calm down. These two are our only way to kill the Kingpin.” Lucifer speaks directly into Parker’s mind, and immediately Parker’s demonic form settles down almost entirely, leaving just the edges of his hoodi bristling in the wind, his red eyes back to green, he stares at the two assassins.
“Are you two ready to go to work?”
“Absolutely, boss,”
“Just tell us what we need to do.” Parker flinches at how annoying the combined voices really are.
“The Kingpin. We have five days to kill him.” Lucifer chimes in, allowing Parker a moment to cool down.
“The Kingpin, huh?”
“Do you have a plan to take him down?” The Brothers Grimm stare into Lucifer’s golden eyes and they see something—something dark.
“Would we have called you here if we didn’t?”
*
Not Sure What Day, or What Time…or Really What Dimension
Doctor Strange meditates alone, his eyes closed, his mind searching for the soul of Michael Morbius. The swirling monsters and colors around him have stopped as he drains their energy in search of this soul before it is lost to the darkness forever. And, as he finds this soul, he utters the words “Veni ad me!” He hollers, the entire alternate dimension shaking. Suddenly, before him appears the ravaged body of Michael Morbius, his hand still clutched around the black stone. A hole is carved into his chest from where Parker Robbins hit him, his eyes blank, his flowing black mane untamed.
“I…cannot…fail…” He murmurs, his eyes darting back-and-forth throughout the swirling colors and monsters, recognition scrawled across his face, mixed with confusion. He crawls onto all fours and attempts to lunge at Doctor Strange, but he falls just short.
“Do not try, Michael Morbius. Here in my home dimension, you are powerless. Now, please, release the stone.” Without a second thought, Morbius releases the stone and, seconds later, his black hair turns blond with white streaks running through it; his black eyes filled with hatred return to a blue—but a tormented blue. Michael Morbius returns to an altered version of the man he once was. “Haec dissimulari et occultari.” Strange chants, sealing the black stone within a casing of the colors and monsters. The casing flies away back into the furthest depths of the strange dimension.
“W-what are y-you doing, Strang?” Morbius’s voice is strained as he attempts to stand.
“I am saving us all. With one stone hidden away, the worst is behind us. But now, now we must find the other stones so that evil cannot reign supreme.” Morbius regains his feet and stares Strange up and down.
“Why do ‘we’ have to do anything? I need to figure out who killed my wife, and why.”
“Michael Morbius, if you will join me in my search for Cthon’s stones, I will allow you the knowledge of your wife’s death.” Silence overcomes the massive, empty dimension as Strange’s words sink into Morbius. Morbius replays them over and over in his head for the next few seconds as he stares into Strange’s eyes.
“You know what happened to my wife?”
*
Wednesday, 00.16 AM
The small table seats four within the small rented storage space used by the Hood as a mobile base of operations. Sitting at the small table are Lucifer, to his right is Parker Robbins, to his right are the Brothers Grimm—and standing lonely in the corner is Olivier, the team’s faithful body-guard.
“So, what exactly,”
“Is the plan, bosses?” The Brothers Grimm speak, the voices once again mixing together. Parker Robbins’s eye twitches, annoyed at the Brothers’ mixing voices. Nonetheless, they were the best available help from Don Fortunato, and they were going to have to do.
“At 9.53 tonight, the Kingpin’s complex goes through a complex-wide shift change that includes the security team. But the security force at Kingpin’s complex is tight-knit and everyone-knows-everyone, so we figured that you guys are reputed for your abilities in disguise. We need you two to impersonate the two guards at the East and West entrances specifically.”
“Stop there, boss,”
“We don’t do anything separate.” Now Parker’s eyes twitches and a grimace plasters against his face.
“The fuck do you mean you don’t do anything separate?”
“We are the Brothers Grimm,”
“Not the Brother Grimm.” The two “Brothers” and Parker are locked in a staring contest, only broken when Olivier steps forward.
“What if they take the East and Lucifer takes the West?” Parker holds the Brothers’ gaze.
“Lucifer?” Lucifer opens his eyes for the first time in this exchange.
“Yeah, I can do that.” Lucifer closes his eyes again as if he’s dozing off.
“Fine. Brothers, you take the East and Lucifer will take the West. From there, I will enter the West and Olivier the East. We will go in guns blazing working our way to the top. When Kingpin calls for everyone to converge on us, you three will join them at the back of the pack, taking out his guards one-by-one as the group converges on us. At that point, it will be the five of us against the Enforcers and the Kingpin.”
“Five-on-five,”
“I like those odds.” Parker breaks their contact and looks to Olivier.
“Olivier, are the weapons on their way?”
“Fortunato said he’d send them to Block C by 8.00 this morning.”
“Good, so are we all in agreement here?” Parker looks to Olivier first who instinctively nods his head. Next, he turns to the Brothers who, like everything else, nod their heads together. Finally, he turns to Lucifer whose eyes remain closed.
“Why are his eyes always closed?”
“Does he not care for your plan?” The Brothers chime in on their new boss’s strange habit.
“No one knows what he’s doing. He likes to be a fuckin’ mystery. It’s how he gets the ladies.”
*
Wednesday, 00.21 AM
Four figures sit perched on a ridge overlooking a small storage yards. The whole yard is dark with the exception of a single unit which is brimming with light. “So, boss, when do we do it?” Raymond Block, also known as the Ox, a massive middle-aged man calls out. Sitting next to him is his less-massive, but still-massive son, Ronald Block, also known as the Ox. It makes you wonder who picked their codenames.
“We move at twenty-four minutes past midnight, Ox.” Says Fancy Dan, a shorter man wearing a wide-brimmed hat, a long trenchcoat falling to his ankles, designer boots accenting his smallish feet.
“That’s two minutes, y’all.” Montana, the last member of the group, says, staring down at his pocket-watch. They all stand in silence as the seconds tick by. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Finally, the clock strikes 00.23 AM. Fancy Dan twists his wrist in the air and everything sets in motion. Ronald pulls out from a large bag a turret bottom while Raymond pulls out the barrel and trigger mechanism. Montana helps the two assemble it as they prepare for the final count. Fancy Dan’s eyes lay far away on the small storage space.
“I feel bad for everyone’s shit that’s about to be blown sky-high.”
“I don’, ya know? It’s like putting ya cow in anotha man’s pasture. He might just go an’ brand ‘em himself.” The clock strikes 00.24 and Fancy Dan gives the signal. Montana slips in a small tactical missile and Raymond steadies the barrel. Ronald looks down the field, takes aim, and pulls the trigger. A strange breeze catches the brim of Dan’s hat and he puts his hand over it to keep it steady. The missile fires out with a loud BOOM and makes its way for the storage space. The missile connects with the storage block D14 and fires flies in every direction as the Hood’s headquarters in blown sky-high.
Lucifer, the Hood, Michael Morbius & Doctor Strange
In
Dark City
Chapter V
Showdown
By Jordan
*
Tuesday, 10.22 PM
“Well, we’re here. Where are they?” Parker’s voice is impatient as he scans the cross-section looking for any sight of trouble. His hoodi is partially unzipped, showing off his signature swirling tattoo that everyone in New York will one day come to fear. The streetlight just yards away flickers.
“Hood, calm down. I told you at the diner. I told you on the walk over. I told you at the hideout. I’m telling you now. We can trust Don Fortunato, and if these two are with him, then we can trust them.” Just then, Parker notices a lone, hunched over figure standing in the alleyway just yards away. His breeze is cold and visible, his eyes beady and yellow. His long, flowing black hair floods out into the street-light.
“Who are you?!” Parker shouts, pulling his gun and pointing it at the figure. Lucifer quickly disarms Parker, pulling the gun inside of his trenchcoat.
“Parker, calm down. We don’t know who that is. What if it’s one of the Brothers?” Lucifer walks slowly forward, keeping his head firmly around the gun tucked away in his coat, just in case. “Brother?”
“Parker Robbins, you hold the stone.” The voice is airy and strange, they eyes contracting with every word.
“Excuse me?” Parker calls out, unholstering his own secondary weapon, Lucifer pulling the gun from his coat, both aimed squarely at the man in the alleyway.
“In the darkest of times, one became seven. Across the earth, seven will be found. I am the fourth, you are the first.”
“What is he talking about, Lucifer?” Lucifer ignores his son and fires three shots into the darkness. The yellow eyes disappear. “Lucifer, what was th—“
“RUN!” Lucifer hollers as he fires off a few more rounds into the figure, the figure swiftly dodging each round.
“I must reunite the seven!” The figure’s torn black cape billows in the wind as he lunges at Lucifer, knocking the firearm from his hands. Lucifer responds with a swift punch the creatures jaw. Parker fires several rounds into the monster’s head, only paralyzing it for a moment. Lucifer delivers a quick kick to the head that knocks the monster over—but only for a moment. “I must!” The monster sounds out, coming back to all-fours and lunging at Lucifer, biting deep into his neck. Lucifer screams out in pain only for a moment before the monster detaches itself, blood oozing from its fangs. Its eyes grow wide as it screams in pain.
“This is over!” Parker yells before unzipping his jacket the rest of the way. The swirling tattoo sets in motion as the edges of Parker’s jacket begin to move on their own. Parker’s eyes turn from the deep green into a bloody red. His teeth sharpen to a fine point as he drops his gun. “Who are you?!” He screams at the monster who has taken the time to regain itself.
“I am Michael Morbius, and I must reunite the seven.” The monster says in an almost inaudible whisper.
“Well it’s time to die, Michael Morbius!” Parker disappears into the darkness, leaving Morbius to ponder what the meaning of this action is. He glances over at Lucifer who stands leaning against a building, his arms crossed over his chest, the wound in his neck healed, a small smile cuts across his face. Morbius only has a moment to twist his head in confusion before Parker appears once more and jabs his clawed right hand through Morbius’s chest. Morbius spits up blood but doesn’t let it slow him down as he twists, yanking Parker’s arm from within him and throwing him against the wall.
“I must reunite—“
“We heard you the first damn time!” Parker fires off two long columns of fire from his palms, Morbius barely managing to dodge the two by ducking. Before Morbius can regain himself, Parker appears, a long knife at Morbius’s neck silences the night. “What are the seven, Michael Morbius?” But before another breeze can blow, Morbius disappears before their eyes. The night becomes silent, broken only by the clapping of two sets of hands.
“Well that…that was quite,”
“The show.” Two voices echo each other, one beginning the sentence and the next ending it. Two figures fall out of the shadows, their heads covered by a skull mask while their bodies are covered in skin-tight red and black spandex. “We are,”
“The Brothers Grimm.” Their voices are almost indistinguishable—their bodies, the same. The only way to tell them apart is the “Brother” on the left has a larger chest than that of the Brother on the right.
“And how fucking long have you been standing there?” Parker calls out, his demonic form slowly calming itself.
“Well, about six minutes,”
“Give or take an hour.” Both let out a small, girlish giggle.
“And you didn’t think to help?!” Parker screams, his demonic form no longer calming down. “You didn’t think that maybe we would DIE?!” Lucifer sees the look in Parker’s eyes and immediately steps in. Placing a hand on Parker’s shoulder, he closes his golden eyes and concentrates.
“Parker, you must calm down. These two are our only way to kill the Kingpin.” Lucifer speaks directly into Parker’s mind, and immediately Parker’s demonic form settles down almost entirely, leaving just the edges of his hoodi bristling in the wind, his red eyes back to green, he stares at the two assassins.
“Are you two ready to go to work?”
“Absolutely, boss,”
“Just tell us what we need to do.” Parker flinches at how annoying the combined voices really are.
“The Kingpin. We have five days to kill him.” Lucifer chimes in, allowing Parker a moment to cool down.
“The Kingpin, huh?”
“Do you have a plan to take him down?” The Brothers Grimm stare into Lucifer’s golden eyes and they see something—something dark.
“Would we have called you here if we didn’t?”
*
Not Sure What Day, or What Time…or Really What Dimension
Doctor Strange meditates alone, his eyes closed, his mind searching for the soul of Michael Morbius. The swirling monsters and colors around him have stopped as he drains their energy in search of this soul before it is lost to the darkness forever. And, as he finds this soul, he utters the words “Veni ad me!” He hollers, the entire alternate dimension shaking. Suddenly, before him appears the ravaged body of Michael Morbius, his hand still clutched around the black stone. A hole is carved into his chest from where Parker Robbins hit him, his eyes blank, his flowing black mane untamed.
“I…cannot…fail…” He murmurs, his eyes darting back-and-forth throughout the swirling colors and monsters, recognition scrawled across his face, mixed with confusion. He crawls onto all fours and attempts to lunge at Doctor Strange, but he falls just short.
“Do not try, Michael Morbius. Here in my home dimension, you are powerless. Now, please, release the stone.” Without a second thought, Morbius releases the stone and, seconds later, his black hair turns blond with white streaks running through it; his black eyes filled with hatred return to a blue—but a tormented blue. Michael Morbius returns to an altered version of the man he once was. “Haec dissimulari et occultari.” Strange chants, sealing the black stone within a casing of the colors and monsters. The casing flies away back into the furthest depths of the strange dimension.
“W-what are y-you doing, Strang?” Morbius’s voice is strained as he attempts to stand.
“I am saving us all. With one stone hidden away, the worst is behind us. But now, now we must find the other stones so that evil cannot reign supreme.” Morbius regains his feet and stares Strange up and down.
“Why do ‘we’ have to do anything? I need to figure out who killed my wife, and why.”
“Michael Morbius, if you will join me in my search for Cthon’s stones, I will allow you the knowledge of your wife’s death.” Silence overcomes the massive, empty dimension as Strange’s words sink into Morbius. Morbius replays them over and over in his head for the next few seconds as he stares into Strange’s eyes.
“You know what happened to my wife?”
*
Wednesday, 00.16 AM
The small table seats four within the small rented storage space used by the Hood as a mobile base of operations. Sitting at the small table are Lucifer, to his right is Parker Robbins, to his right are the Brothers Grimm—and standing lonely in the corner is Olivier, the team’s faithful body-guard.
“So, what exactly,”
“Is the plan, bosses?” The Brothers Grimm speak, the voices once again mixing together. Parker Robbins’s eye twitches, annoyed at the Brothers’ mixing voices. Nonetheless, they were the best available help from Don Fortunato, and they were going to have to do.
“At 9.53 tonight, the Kingpin’s complex goes through a complex-wide shift change that includes the security team. But the security force at Kingpin’s complex is tight-knit and everyone-knows-everyone, so we figured that you guys are reputed for your abilities in disguise. We need you two to impersonate the two guards at the East and West entrances specifically.”
“Stop there, boss,”
“We don’t do anything separate.” Now Parker’s eyes twitches and a grimace plasters against his face.
“The fuck do you mean you don’t do anything separate?”
“We are the Brothers Grimm,”
“Not the Brother Grimm.” The two “Brothers” and Parker are locked in a staring contest, only broken when Olivier steps forward.
“What if they take the East and Lucifer takes the West?” Parker holds the Brothers’ gaze.
“Lucifer?” Lucifer opens his eyes for the first time in this exchange.
“Yeah, I can do that.” Lucifer closes his eyes again as if he’s dozing off.
“Fine. Brothers, you take the East and Lucifer will take the West. From there, I will enter the West and Olivier the East. We will go in guns blazing working our way to the top. When Kingpin calls for everyone to converge on us, you three will join them at the back of the pack, taking out his guards one-by-one as the group converges on us. At that point, it will be the five of us against the Enforcers and the Kingpin.”
“Five-on-five,”
“I like those odds.” Parker breaks their contact and looks to Olivier.
“Olivier, are the weapons on their way?”
“Fortunato said he’d send them to Block C by 8.00 this morning.”
“Good, so are we all in agreement here?” Parker looks to Olivier first who instinctively nods his head. Next, he turns to the Brothers who, like everything else, nod their heads together. Finally, he turns to Lucifer whose eyes remain closed.
“Why are his eyes always closed?”
“Does he not care for your plan?” The Brothers chime in on their new boss’s strange habit.
“No one knows what he’s doing. He likes to be a fuckin’ mystery. It’s how he gets the ladies.”
*
Wednesday, 00.21 AM
Four figures sit perched on a ridge overlooking a small storage yards. The whole yard is dark with the exception of a single unit which is brimming with light. “So, boss, when do we do it?” Raymond Block, also known as the Ox, a massive middle-aged man calls out. Sitting next to him is his less-massive, but still-massive son, Ronald Block, also known as the Ox. It makes you wonder who picked their codenames.
“We move at twenty-four minutes past midnight, Ox.” Says Fancy Dan, a shorter man wearing a wide-brimmed hat, a long trenchcoat falling to his ankles, designer boots accenting his smallish feet.
“That’s two minutes, y’all.” Montana, the last member of the group, says, staring down at his pocket-watch. They all stand in silence as the seconds tick by. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Finally, the clock strikes 00.23 AM. Fancy Dan twists his wrist in the air and everything sets in motion. Ronald pulls out from a large bag a turret bottom while Raymond pulls out the barrel and trigger mechanism. Montana helps the two assemble it as they prepare for the final count. Fancy Dan’s eyes lay far away on the small storage space.
“I feel bad for everyone’s shit that’s about to be blown sky-high.”
“I don’, ya know? It’s like putting ya cow in anotha man’s pasture. He might just go an’ brand ‘em himself.” The clock strikes 00.24 and Fancy Dan gives the signal. Montana slips in a small tactical missile and Raymond steadies the barrel. Ronald looks down the field, takes aim, and pulls the trigger. A strange breeze catches the brim of Dan’s hat and he puts his hand over it to keep it steady. The missile fires out with a loud BOOM and makes its way for the storage space. The missile connects with the storage block D14 and fires flies in every direction as the Hood’s headquarters in blown sky-high.