The darkness in the cell had become a sort of comfort for him, so that anytime the guards removed him from it, exposing him to the light of day, it became…uncomfortable. Here, within his pathetic little room, the air tinged with stale urine and feces from a toilet that had overrun and rotting pieces of food carelessly discarded, he was a king and a god. This was his home and his temple both, and it was a stark contrast from where he had once come from. His father had been a great man, ruling the smaller criminal empires of the American northeast, and anything he had ever wanted had been provided to him. Money, cars, women, literally anything he could imagine was within his grasp, or it had been.
Now, he sat within the confines of a cell, his back against the wall as pontificated to the roaches who shared the space with him. Everyday he lost a little more of what passed for his sanity and fragmented memories, but it mattered little to him. As long as he held on to one memory, all of the others could burn. His father, the magnificent Walter Carmichael, was murdered by the Arach-Knight. And he would not sit idly by and let such a thing pass; he absolutely would not let such an affront to the dignity of the family go unpunished. His zeal for exacting that revenge was what had landed him here, and it was what he would trade away his kingdom of darkness for.
“Give me the head of the Arach-Knight,” he croaked in a voice unused to speaking. “Let me drink of the blood draining from his severed head. And I give to you this kingdom. I give it right to you!” Who his words were meant for; who the vow was being made to; no one could know. It was just as likely he did not know himself, but he meant it. Every single word of it.
And as if in answer to his prayer, alarm bells rang out through the prison, followed closely after by the chaotic shouts of guards dealing with a situation well beyond their pay grade. A deep rumble shook the walls, as the sound of a freight train smashing through everyone and everything filled his dark little world. He smiled. Such chaos was welcomed, even expected. Then the door to his cell flew wide and spilled light into his demented sanctuary. And Jack Carmichael, son of Walter, shielded his eyes against it. He wanted so very much to crawl under the bed beside him and hide form this intrusion, but the vow he had just made kept tickling at his mind.
So barefooted, and in bedraggled clothing, Jack stood, stretching muscles that had rarely been used, and stepped forward into the hall. His greasy, tangled blond hair flopped against his neck with each step, having grown too long while he was incarcerated here. Immediately to his left a guard was beating down another inmate attempting to escape. Jack stepped over and slid one arm around the guard’s chest and the other around the man’s head and snapped his neck like a dry twig. The gurgling sound the dying man made as he slipped to the floor was an opera to Jack’s ears. Beneath him, the escapee, a rat-like man named Rollo, was staring up at his savior with wide-eyed terror. He was right to be afraid.
“We gonna escape now, Jackie? I’ll help you get out of here,” Rollo wheezed as he slid himself along the floor upon his back. Jack didn’t respond, and instead bent down and picked up the nightstick the guard had so ably been using to hurt Rollo. “Watcha gonna do with that, Jackie?” It was a stupid question when the answer was so plain. Jack swung the baton down and ended Rollo with one swing. All of the man’s memories spilled out and pooled around Jack’s feet like paint upon a canvas. Here was a Picasso for a new age.
Jack strolled forward, leaving a grisly blood trail of footprints behind him. The guards in the prison were busy dealing with bigger fish, and not doing a good job of it at all by the screams he heard. Doors were left open, cages left unlocked, and on a sunny day in the month of May, Jack Carmichael walked out of prison.
****
Two Days Later
Andrew O’Gill sat on his bed, back against the headboard, staring out the window at the beautiful spring day. He should be out there enjoying it, sitting in the park with the sun beaming down on his face or even laughing with friends about some bad summer blockbuster, but he felt much more like sitting on his bed doing nothing. The last few weeks had been crazy with all of the ring-bearers blowing each other into chunks and then disappearing into the heavens. No one really knew where they all went to, but then again, most people didn’t care as long as their war stayed wherever they took it to. As the Arach-Knight, he had spent the better part of the last few days helping with rescue efforts, cleaning up after their battles here on Earth only to get chased off by a SWAT team looking to arrest him. One minute they had been clapping his shoulder and calling him a hero, the next the had laser sights aimed at his head, and it was all because of Walter Carmichael. It always came back to good ole Walt in the end. Walt, who killed Andrew’s father. Walt, who tried to turn himself into a monster. Walt, who destroyed himself in the process, leaving the blame to fall squarely on the shoulders of the Arach-Knight. Thanks Walt.
So now, feeling bitter towards the world, Andrew felt quite content sitting in his room and ignoring the grander problems of the world. Let them all sort it out on their own for a change, he needed a break from being the Arach-Knight. He kicked at an errant sock that was dangling off on the edge of the bed until it fell off. A large pile of books was stacked haphazardly on his desk waiting to be read. Summer assignments for AP English, but schoolwork could wait. Right now he was busy doing nothing.
His cell phone started to vibrate, rattling against the burnished wood of the bedside table. For a brief moment he had hoped it would be Aimee, his neighbor and best friend who had gone on vacation down to Florida. She always knew how to cheer him up and kick his tail out of a funk, but when he picked up the phone the display read: PRIVATE.
“Yeah,” he said tentatively.
“Andrew,” came a hurried whisper. “It’s Dr. Marsh.”
“Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you whispering?”
“Pine went crazy,” she said. “I don’t know how long it’ll be before he comes for me.”
“What,” he replied, anger entering his tone. “I’ll be right there.”
“No,” she hissed. “That’s why I’m calling. You have to disappear. He’s coming for you. Pine is coming for you.”
“I’m not afraid of Dr. Pine,” Andrew replied.
“He’s found a way to track that radiation in your blood. You’re in danger too…” then the line went dead. The silence was overwhelming. Slowly, he clicked the cell phone shut and put it back on the stand. He had wanted a day without the Arach-Knight, without some crazy plot by some lunatic trying to kill him bubbling to the surface, but it didn’t look like that was in the cards. So he got out of bed and walked over to the closet. His costume was in there, wedged within a small cubby behind his coats.
Minutes later he was riding atop the Eastbound Blue Line heading into The City. His suburb was on the west end and Arbor Inc, where Maddie and Dr. Pine worked was northeast of the city. If Pine were coming for him, the likeliest place to cut him off would be in the middle. Once the buildings grew tall enough, he leapt from the train and started swinging his way across block after block, searching and scanning below for any sign of Pine and his Arbor Black Watch Guards. A glint of light caught his eye as a dark colored van with the Arbor logo cornered sharply; it’s wheels squealing. The Knight’s danger sense started rattling off like a five alarm fire as he dropped from the sky to land in the van’s path. The lumbering vehicle slammed on its breaks and sat idling menacingly a few feet ahead. Then, after what felt like an eternity, the side door slid open and several of the Black Watch Guards spilled out, their high-tech armor gleaming.
“Thank you for making this easy,” Dr. Pine’s voice called out over a loud speaker. “Now kindly turn yourself over to the guards and we can be on our way.”
“Over my dead body,” the Arach-Knight growled.
“As you wish,” came the curt reply.
Bold & The Brave - Team Ups
While the Arach-Knight rested in the comfort of his own home, the young man called Jason Dodd had no such privilege. For he had no home. Not anymore. His first home was stolen from him when he was 12 years old, when his parents were killed... When his parents were murdered... The killer was never caught, but Jason knew his face well. That horrible, scarred face constantly haunted his nightmares from the day it happened.
Then, he found another home, with his people. You see, Jason was not human. He and his parents were all descended from an ancient race, who all possessed the ability to manipulate the fundamental forces of nature. Someone powerful enough could force the Earth out of orbit, create a light strong enough to illuminate the Universe or even destroy... Everything... Fortunately, the most potent of these four, fundamental powers were locked away from Jason's people. The Strong and Weak forces were completely unavailable to the vast majority of the population, with Gravity and Electromagnetic manipulation being available to almost everyone.
Although, even amongst his people, Jason was different. From the day he was born, his parents recognized him as the Gifted One. The One with the ability to control all four fundamental forces. The most powerful of their kind. The eclipse-shaped birthmarks on his palms set him apart from everyone else. But his parents knew that if they revealed Jason's status as the Gifted One, then people would come looking for him. Some, seeking to destroy him, or take his power for themselves, and some seeking to teach him, to let him realize his full potential.
But his parents just wanted him to have a normal life... They trained him how to fight, in case of an emergency. They trained him to use his gifts, but only the ones available to themselves. Mostly, however... They taught him to run. To run up walls, across rooftops and even through the air. For he was a mere child, and if someone wished to destroy him, all he could hope to do is run, not fight. His parents could protect him from anyone who came their way.
When his parents were murdered, Jason's safety net went with them. He used his powers violently, tearing his way through the City until he found the man who killed them. Obviously, these actions attracted the attention of his people and, thankfully, he was found by a peaceful clan, rather than one of the more violent ones. They taught him even more about his powers, and revealed to him his true nature as the Gifted One. He was only 12. To learn that he had the power to tear the Universe apart was a scary thought. All that responsibility... It terrified him, as it would terrify any child. So he did what his parent told him to do.
He ran. Ran far away from the clan that took him in. Since that day, Jason never once used his powers. In part, to hide himself from his people. But also, to try and forget that his powers even existed. To get rid of all that responsibility. Taking on the identity of the hero Eclipse, Jason kept running. Even now, he has no home. He sleeps wherever it is safe to and eats whatever he is given in gratitude by the people he has saved.
Now then, let us not dwell on the past, but focus on the present. Where Jason is now a 15 year old superhero, scourge to the criminal underworld and... Sleeping in a dumpster...
------------------------------------
"Ah, the rewards of being a hero..." Jason muttered to himself as he plucked a banana skin off the top of his head and wiped the whatever-the-hell-it-was off his face. "Well, at least there wasn't any broken glass in this one..."
The hero known as Eclipse clambered out of the trash, yawning widely and scratching his back with his retractable bo-staff. While many heroes had a civilian identity, Jason did not. Being Eclipse was his whole life. Unfortunately, that meant he only had one costume... One very dirty, barely-ever-washed, costume. The costume was mostly comprised of a bright red suit, a gold and black cape and a pair of boots. Of course, considering it hadn't been washed in over a week and had also spent the night covered in garbage, the red looked maroon, the gold looked like puke (And was probably drenched in it) and his boots were covered in shi... Well, you get the picture.
Eclipse took a deep breath as he stretched, getting ready to start the day of crime-fighting. Unfortunately, he took the deep breath with his nose. And, well... He hadn't bathed in a fairly long time... "Wow..." Jason coughed and spluttered, trying his best not to breathe through his nose. "Out of all the superpowers to have... I got super-stink... Man, I need to have a shower..."
But the teen's wash would have to wait, as just around the corner he heard the squealing of tires and the booming of a very sinister loudspeaker. Time to go to work. Without a shower... Or breakfast... Or a change of underwear... 'Come to think of it, I really need to pee too.' Eclipse grumbled in his inner monologue as he ran around the corner.
'Damn...' He continued as he found himself facing a group of heavily armored, high-tech guards. And to his left... A dude in a full body stocking... But he was wearing red and blue, so he was clearly a good guy. 'Great. Another hero. Not only am I gonna get murdered by those guys, but this dude is probably gonna make fun of my stink while they're doing it... Ah, the heck with it.'
"Need some help?" Eclipse offered and, without waiting for a reply, leaped into action, vaulting off his bo-staff into the face of the guard up-front.
A sole agent of the Black Watch had closed the distance and lashed out with a right-handed jab. The Knight ducked to the side and heard the pneumatic hiss of the man’s armor as the fist passed inches from his head. Then, using his great agility, the spider sprung high into the air and inverted himself so that he was looking down on his attacker.
“I know you guys went through all of this trouble to plan this party for me,” he said as he extended his arms out and shot webbing down onto the Black Watchman below. The webbing attached itself around the guard’s torso and gummed up his ability to move. “But I have to be honest with you, and I’m sorry if this hurts your feelings, but I do really hate surprise parties.” The Arach-Knight came back down, landing lithely on his feet and pulling on the webs; flinging the guard back towards the van and into one of his vile compatriots. “Next time just send a card…with a gift certificate. I’m partial to Amazon or Best Buy.”
The spider couldn’t see the other hero amidst the fight, but by the general screams issued through the electronic com-links of the Black Watch, he figured he was holding his own. “Time to end this, Pine,” the Arach-Knight called out as he leapt towards the van. A guardsman shot a tazer at him, but with a dazzling mid-air twist of his body, he avoided the shot easily enough. Landing in a crouch beside the vehicle, he reared back with a fist and punched through the side door. It was made of tougher grade steel than most vans of its class, but it was still no match for his strength. Grabbing onto the hole and pulling back his fist, the Knight yanked it off of its hinges. Yet inside he found…nothing, just rack after rack of surveillance equipment. “Pine?”
“Do you think I’d be stupid enough to come here in person?” came the mad scientist’s voice over the intercom. “Now hold still, this won’t take but a moment.” With his danger sense suddenly flaring to life, the Arach-Knight turned only in time to get hit full on by a blast of electric energy. It knocked him down for a moment, and sent his head swimming, giving the Black Watch guard enough time to get on top of him and jab him with a needle. “Sunnova!” the spider cried out before punching the guard off. Said guard tumbled through the air to land across the street, a satisfying reaction, in the Arach-Knight’s opinion.
“I’ve already had my flu shot, thank you very much,” he said as he started towards the downed guard. “Now, kindly give that back to me.” But the Black Watchmen was already loading the needle into some sort of arm rocket. “I like to keep my DNA all in one place, it’s just a quirk I have.” The Arach-Knight leapt at the guard, even as the man pressed the button to activate the rocket. It shot off into the air with thunderous speed and for a moment, the spider thought he might be able to web the delivery device, but another guard blasted him in the back with electrical bolt, allowing the missile’s escape over the rooftops. Hitting the ground with a thud as unceremonious as the juice box, the Arach-Knight hoped the other hero was having better luck.
“Roger, Roger,” the armored Black Watch guard replied lazily to the message that the missile was inbound. From his position on the roof, he could clearly track the projectile arcing over the luxury condos two blocks west. “Receiving package in five, four, three, two….touchdown.” The homing beacon in the nose of the device led it to land harmlessly in an expansive-foam tub, cushioning its impact. Two other guardsmen stationed on the roof stepped forward with large blades at the ready and cut the canister free with little effort. Then, with the package in hand, the triad walked across the roof, gravel crunching softly beneath their armor boots, and entered the building below.
Dr. Pine sat on a tall metal stool, watching from a remote camera a battle taking place miles away. He dabbed an old handkerchief against his bald, sweaty pate as he saw the second costumed hero who had joined the Arach-Knight work through the rest of his guards. That turn of events was as unfortunate as it was unforeseen. Rudolph Pine prided himself on preparing for every eventuality, but his focus had been so singular on the spider that he had failed to factor in that there are so many other pitiful heroes out in the world. “And with his blood I’ll find a way to rid us of them all,” he cried out triumphantly.
“Sir?” one of the guardsmen in the room asked quizzically.
“I wasn’t speaking to you, Neanderthal! My brain waves function so far beyond your primitive thought spectrum that for me to converse on a level befitting you would be akin to me lowering myself to the state of a gnat! Now shut up and procure for me an update on my package,” the mad doctor snapped. The guard shuddered, knowing what Pine had done to other guards who displeased him, and then turned towards the door, which was even then opening. The three guards from the roof entered, causing Dr. Pine to leap down from his stool and hop about giddily.
“Give that here,” he squealed with delight and held his arms out for the missile like a child waiting for his Christmas gift. The guard obeyed and walked the canister over only to have it snatched from his hands by the overeager, mad scientist. Dr. Pine held the missile in his hands like it was the Holy Grail before he hastily flipped it over to reveal the keypad on the underside. “So close,” he whispered as he turned back around to his worktable and keyed in the code to unlock it. It opened gracefully with a hiss of air and Freon. Inside was a single vile of blood from the Arach-Knight, and to Pine’s mind it held the keys to a universe of possibilities. The guards were shuffling around behind him and making noise again. Pine would have to punish them, but such fun would need to wait.
“One of you doddering imbeciles will need to bring me my microscope. It’s in the green case by the couch over there,” Pine called over his shoulder, not wanting to tear his gaze off of that beautiful vile of blood.
“I don’t think they’ll be fetching anything for you,” spoke a smugly sadistic voice. Pine turned around and found a tall, broad, muscular man with shaggy blonde hair standing before him. Rivulets of blood ran down the slope of his cheek, the remnants of a recent spray. It didn’t take the doctor long to discover the source of the blood, as all four of the Black Watch guards were on the floor, dispatched efficiently by knife strokes to their neck…one of the few soft spots in their armor.
“Who are you?” Pine demanded, reaching behind him to hide the vile of blood. Another man stepped out from behind the first, his face scarred and his eyes wild. Insanity hung around the two like a hurricane storm and that frightened the rationale doctor.
“Don’t worry yourself so, my bald headed, little friend. I am a grand admirer of yours,” the first stranger said with a flourishing bow. The second man seemed capable of nothing more than giggling, so Pine dismissed him as an underling.
“Then why dispatch my guards? That doesn’t seem very hospitable,” Pine retorted, addressing the first man.
“They would have made the prospect of our negotiations more difficult,” the man replied calmly.
“You want something from me?”
“Yes,” he said with a growing smile that sent shivers down Pine’s back.
“And I am to surmise that keeping my life is my end of the bargain,” the doctor said pointedly.
“Not at all,” the killer retorted. “I need you alive.” The stranger walked further into the room, taking are to step over the corpses at his feet. He walked over to the video monitor showing the van battle. The Arach-Knight was looking directly into the camera and Pine swore he heard this man mutter something that could have been a growl or an ironic laugh before he reached out and switched the screen off. “I have no plans to harm you, doctor. Or to allow you to be harmed, so now do you see how hospitable I am? I could have let you believe I was to take your life and bathe in your blood, but now I have revealed that is not my intention. And to further sweeten the pot, I come bearing gifts for you.”
“What gift?”
With a wave of his hand, the maniac signaled three impressive looking goons into the room, and between them was a gift that Pine could truly appreciate, Dr. Madelyn Marsh, beaten, bruised, and being dragged kicking and screaming right to him. Oh, it was a great day to be Dr. Pine! “I believe this piece of trash belongs to you,” the madman giggled.
“Yes,” Pine replied, awe creeping into his voice. “A most gracious gift.”
“I thought so.”
“Pine, don’t deal with these men,” Maddie groaned.
“Be still, dear,” the man said and waved his hand again. The goons tossed her roughly to the floor, where she crawled pitiful away from them. She wouldn’t get far, but her pointless struggle for freedom was entertaining Pine.
“So what is it that I can do for you?” Pine asked eagerly.
“That blood vile you received and are now hiding skillfully in your lab coat. It belongs to him, doesn’t it?”
Something like a lead weight dropped into Pine’s stomach and he reached impulsively into his pocket to clutch at the vile. “You…you can’t have that,” the doctor stammered. “Anything else. Anything except that!”
“Oh, no, no, no,” the stranger cooed soothingly. “I don’t want to take it from you. In fact, I want you to do all of the beautiful, creative and demented experiments with it that you have been dreaming about.”
“Then what?”
“Doctor Pine, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jack Carmichael,” he said and Pike nodded, recognizing the name. “My father was Walter Carmichael and I am sure you know what my father was.”
“Yes,” Pine said with unadulterated glee, remembering what Walter had tried to become.
“All that I want, doctor, is to follow in the family business. I want to be one of your experiments.”
“I can agree to that, but let me be quite clear, what your father did, what he became. The power he tapped into. I can’t recreate that in you.”
“Then make me into something new,” Jack said, grinning.
“Don’t do this, Pine,” Maddie pleaded from the floor.
“Shut your mouth,” Pine screamed as he tried to kick her, but with his feeble legs and motor skills he only kicked at the air. Jack put a sympathetic hand on the doctor’s shoulder and smiled down on him.
“May I?”
“But of course,” Pine smiled. Jack stepped forward and unleashed a thunderous kick into her face. Her nose shattered like delicate china, spraying blood across the far wall. Jack stood there, his head cocked to one side, transfixed by the pattern it made against the plaster. “So beautiful,” he mused and then turned back towards the doctor. “Now, I have prepared a special lab for us.”
“What about her?” Pine asked, happy to see her the woman in writhing pain.
“Let’s leave her to my friends here,” Jack replied. “We have work to begin.”
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