Marvel Mayhem: The Deadly Dozen #0
You want more Marvel Mayhem? Well good news you can find it here in the Season 2 Library
Also be sure to check out where this story began in Issue# 11 of @batkevin74s New Yorks Finest.
The Lucky Deuce Casino, New York
A crowd had formed in the bar annexed to the main casino floor, even drawing the hardcore gamblers away from the slots and tables. Not that the owner minded, his best customer was back in the building, as such he was willing to loose one nights profit for his homecoming.
“Bartender, get us a round for these guys!!” The Black Mamba hiccupped, as she took a sip from her martini.
“Two rounds!!” Tiger Shark bellowed, before taking a bite out of his ‘arm sandwich’.
“I still don’t believe it.” Armless Tiger Man snorted, as he shot a look at Tiger Shark before shaking his head in disgust, as the blood and muscle dripped down the monster’s snout.
“Then tell it again.” Diamondback purred as she rested her head on 8-Ball's shoulder.
“Well,” The man, dressed in a yellow helmet and a reinforced green scale mail, sighed wearily, as he looked over to a group of four other men, “I'm sure one more time won't hurt.” The crowd of villains, criminals and ne’er do wells cheered in unison and the storyteller smiled, “Well it starts in…”
**
Rykers Island, 14 hours earlier
“I’m a bomb!!!” The imamate screamed as he rushed the yard security post, blood gushing from a wound in his leg. “I’m going to explode!!” He screamed, as he leapt into the security checkpoint, only to impact directly with the on duty guard’s riot shield.
“Well that failed.” Chance sighed to his companion, a dark skinned man with a 70s afro. “Pay up,” he stated as he took a puff from the cigarette clenched in his hands, “I’m almost burnt through the packs I won off of Black Fox when you arrived.”
”Whoa, hold on man. My brother isn't down yet and you know it slot jockey.” Hypno Hustler stated. “Normally I groove to my own tune, but this time, this time I say Burn Baby Burn.” He hummed, as his friend flicked the cigarette, into the blood trail, thick burning smoke speeding along after the bleeding inmate. Reaching the security post, the vapour began to fill the room, before exploding in a hissing cloud of steam.
“Talk about being on acid.” The Hustler cackled, as he and Chance sprinted over to the security checkpoint. “Who knew that heating up acidic blood could turn a man into a walking bomb?” Looking on they saw the guards gasping on the floor, as a set of body parts twitched and convulsed in the middle of the floor.
“Alas poor Oriole we hardly knew you brother.” The Hustler lamented as a hand on the floor twitched and gave him a one finger salute. Shaking his head, as Chance pulled out a key card from the desk and held it up in the air.
“He actually pulled it off. Remind me that I owe Hammerhand eight packets, when next I see him.” Chance sighed, as he threw the piece of plastic out the window. “Say Hustler, six packets says we end up carrying him out of here.” He suggested, as he looked down on the regenerating body, of the exploding inmate.
“Uh, uh no way those odds are whack!” The Hustler replied. “What do you take me for Chance?”
“Just help me move him!” Chance spat as the pair of them picked up the body, and carried it out into the yard, just as a huge man with massive hands walked, over to the adjacent courtyard. “What’s Hammerhand doing?”
“He’s releasing those decidedly un-groovy cats!!” The Hustler yelled as Hammerhand swiped the key card, and the men behind the gate, pushed their way out into the courtyard.
“Leave them, they played their part.” Hammerhand told the men he had release, their bald heads and arms decorated with skull tattoos. “We got to leave.” He added, as he dashed towards the man gate his new found follower’s right behind him, just as the doors flew open and tear gas grenades rocketed out into the courtyard.
“To think we let that traitor sit with us.” Chance muttered bitterly as a platoon of guards bulldozed their way into the courtyard. “Still he’ll get what he deserves for messing with our escape plans, that’s for sure.”
**
Black Fox sat in the vent, as a Hispanic guard dragged Hammerhand into the storage closet and smashed him across the face with his baton.
“Ugh that bloody hurt.” Hammerhand moaned as the guard slammed him in the chest, before unscrewing the base of his baton, and dropped an eight inch rod down into the vent.
“Got to make it look real.” The guard answered with a shrug as he jabbed Hammerhand in the neck. “Now scream to cover the sound of your man in the vent.” He ordered as he stabbed the baton into Hammerhand’s groin, the larger man bellowing in pain.
“I swear to you Gamecock, if I get out of here…”
“If the Tinkerer packed the right equipment you will. And you’re not the only one taking a risk, if I weren't being paid a lot of cash to masquerade as a guard, I’d leave you here to rot.” Gamecock whispered as Black Fox slipped away. “My bridge and tunnel guy will meet you tonight.” He added as the elderly inmate slipped down a shaft, and out into the prison library next to a shelf loaded with thick encyclopaedias. Picking the nearest one he slipped the rod inside and staggered to the exit, only for a burly pair of guards to block his path.
“The whole facility is in lock down Gramps,” one of the guards grunted, “you will have to do your reading tomorrow.” He added with a sneer as he snatched the book from Black Fox’s hands.
”Hey lay off him Henderson.” The second guard snapped as he pulled the book off of the first. “We're in enough s**t with the article that Liddle chick filed last month, let’s not add anything else to that.” He added as he handed the book back to Black Fox. “You come with us back to your cell, and we’ll let you keep the ‘Elouise Clayton Guide to Exotic Fauna - Issue Three’. Jeez what the hell would anyone need this piece of trash for?”
“I want to show my cell mate a picture of a kinkajou, he’s thinking about buying one as a pet when he gets out next month.” Black Fox explained as the guards escorted him out of the library. “Personally I don’t see the appeal but he’s utterly convinced he wants one.”
**
The Hypno-Hustler lay on his bed humming to himself, as the guards turned off the lights. Stirring slightly he pulled a small pot out of his pyjamas, and splashed the contents on the lock, the metal hissing before corroding away. Heading back to his bed he didn't have to wait long, as one by one, his four fellow escapes arrived and climbed into the cell.
“Did he bring it? Two packets say Gamecock is too incompetent to actually deliver what we need.” Chance whispered as Black Fox put the encyclopaedia on the bed, and removed the rod stuffed in a hollowed out section. Unscrewing the top he reached in and pulled out a large razor blade complete with a hook on. Quietly he hooked the blade onto the rod, and fastened it in place with the lid.
“Okay so why did we need this thing smuggled in extra special?” Hammerhand asked as Black Fox handed the blade to Chance.
“Because hommies, Free Bird over there has blood that melts a regular shiv.” The Hypno-Hustler explained. “That’s why I sent a message to the spare helmet in the Tinkerer’s lock-up, to send us an adamantium alloy blade, one tough enough to survive long enough for us to get out, you dig?”
“Sure,” Hammerhand grunted as he grabbed Oriole by the arms and pressed him gently to the floor. “This is going to hurt, but you need to be quiet, most of the guards are in the Skull’s section after they tried to escape, but not all of them.” He added as Chance slit Oriole’s throat before moving onto his other arteries, blood leaking out of the wounds and burning through the concrete floor, down into the very bedrock of the island. Subsequent slashes deepened the shaft until it hit an intersecting tunnel.
“Ow.” Oriole moaned as he scrabbled to his feet just as Chance slashed open his stomach and pulled out his intestine. Waiting he watched as the organ re-grew before slicing it out again and tying the ends together, repeating the process until he had a length of fifty meters. Looping one end around the razor, he threw the blade up to the others and felt someone grab it, as moments later his fellow escapees repelled down into the tunnel.
“Dude that’s funky.” The Hypno-Hustler gagged. “I told you not to have the enchiladas for lunch dog.” He asked as something large detached from the tunnel wall and towered over them, even Hammerhand’s impressive bulk.
”Bridge and Tunnel?” Hammerhand asked as the armoured figure with foot long claws turned on a tiny miner’s lamp on his forehead.
“Call me the Armadillo,” the colossal figure grunted, “One tailor made tunnel to the mainland. Oh and just a heads up, a lot of guys on the outside want you to pull this off.” He added as he led the five escapees down the tunnel. “We’ve not had a lot to celebrate, not since the Chameleon set a bunch of trigger happy morons on us. But you guys, you get out of here and that all changes.”
**
The Lucky Deuce Casino, New York
“And then we emerged in the basement of this fine establishment.” Chance told the other villains. “Where we were greeted by good drink and fine company.”
“Damm right!!” Tiger Shark bellowed. “If you guys can get a win we all can!!”
“Yes I believe that things are about to change for the better for us all.” Chance stated as he took a puff on his cigarette.
**
Unknown Tomb, Somewhere in Egypt
The local militia fighters dragged the red headed woman, dressed in cargo pants and a blue tank top, down the stairs into the tomb, before throwing her to the foot of an immense sarcophagus.
“Open it.” One of the gunmen ordered in highly accented English. “Open the heathen’s tomb, the treasure inside is an offence to the prophet and must be destroyed.”
“It’s men like you that give Muslims a bad name.” The woman spat back before being smashed in the face with an AK47.
“Silence American witch!!” One of the militia men yelled.
“You speak of heathens and the Great Satan like they are your only problems.” The woman gulped, as her eyes flashed red and the rifles in her captor’s hands came alive, the wood and metal transformed into striking cobras. “Their evil is a shadow compared to mine.” She added, as her clothes transformed into bone armour, and a long handled scythe made of bone materialised in her hands. With one fluid movement she sliced through the men’s necks, and reached out with her magic to catch their heads before they hit the ground. “Now my Royal Embalmer, rise and take your place at my side.” She hissed as the coffin opened and red eyes glowered down at her. “We have an empire to rebuild, starting with New York: The new City of the Dead.”
Log in to comment