Asgardia
Loki sat pensively looking at the ravaged corpse of Skoval, lying on the floor of the castle Odinshire. It was if a pack of wild animals had ripped him apart. Loki shook his head and waved a hand over the body, a golden glittering wave trickled over the body forming the shape of a humanoid creature. The cantrip replayed the last few seconds of Skoval’s life as the creature tore him to shreds and drank his blood. Some of the assembled gods gasped.
“We have a killer in our midst!” stated Loki “This will not stand! I need volunteers for a hunting party”
**
Chicago Iron Hall
General Falcon Helfitta placed another lolly in his mouth as the Ferrum technician waffled on “...tion down about sixty percent?”
Falcon grabbed the data-pad off him and tossed it into the wall “I only asked how many Creeds we had you starking idiot!”
“Um, we only have around three hundred left sir, which are grown and operational!” gulped the technician.
“And the problem with making more?” snapped Helfitta.
“Dr Essex, sir! He left out several steps in the procedure sir” replied the technician “We can’t get them to full term. Plus with the recent attacks on plants by that mutant ar…” Helfitta’s arm shot out and grabbed the technician by the throat. The mechanical arm gently squeezed the trachea.
“Have you contacted Stevenson in Brooklyn?” growled Falcon. The technician nodded furiously as he tried to breath. “You will get a hold of him by sunset and tell him to get his stark into gear and make the Supreme Commander some more starking Creeds!”
***
Grozny, Chechyen DMZ
Hercules sat in a hospital gown on the edge of his bed, staring blankly into the distance. Drool ran from the corners of his mouth.
“Another glorious day!” said Perun as he entered the room and sat beside him. “You are looking well!”
Hercules sat motionless, unresponsive. Perun patted him on the back “Well I have brought us breakfast, a meal fitting for us gods!” The Slavic god of thunder brought up a picnic basket and proceeded to unload it onto the bedside table.
“Chechyen wine that’ll put hair on your back! Grapes from the Urals! Pig from the steppes of the Chinese border! And stuffed pigeon from Doomstadt!” announced Perun with delight “We need to get your strength up!”
Hercules was unmoved.
***
The Vault, Colorado
Augustus Holland and Madrox looked at the cell. In the centre of the room was a plexi-glass tube that combined a centrifuge and molecular disruptor. Every so often a green, ghostly hand would form to attempt trying to smash the glass, sometimes it was a foot. The sound of the machine was quite hypnotic.
“Prince of Orphans?” said Madrox looking at the prisoner manifest on his datapad “Who?”
“The only way we’ll know is if we let me him out.” replied Holland.
“If we have to” said Madrox reluctantly.
***
Asgardia
Morbius licked his nails like a cat, savouring the delicious remnants of god blood on them. The vampire then curled into a ball in the fork of the tree. He was sated, but already he could feel the stirrings of his hunger.
***
Doomstadt
Baron Rancorious waited patiently in the antechamber for Queen Carol. He pulled another small lizard from his pouch and tossed it to his two-headed pet Coco who promptly ripped it to pieces.
“Why are you here?” barked General Kurske as he entered the room.
“To…speak…with…your…leader.” said Rancorious training all four eyes on the general “Not…to…you”
Kurske’s face scrunched up like he’d eaten a lemon “She’s busy! As her Minister for W…”
“Temporary!” interrupted Rancorious “…temporary…minister…of…war. Ares… the… liberator …still … holds …the … position…yes?”
Kurske scowled at the mutant. Coco, detecting the hostility snarled at Kurske, teeth still red from lizard blood.
“You should keep that thing on a leash!” warned Kurske.
“I…will…suggest…the…same…thing…to…your…majesty…about…you!” said Rancorious as he patted his pet
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