I got there just in time to hear, “I tire of you, dog,” followed by the tortured shriek of metal being ripped away from the body of a howling, demon possessed soul.

“Nooooooo!” shouted the soul, as his helmet peeled away to reveal a flaming skull, where the face of Johnny Von Doom should be. Tempted by a devil, Johnathan Von Doom made a deal to be possessed by a demon, to free the soul of his mother, who now rules Latkanda as the Black Hellcat. When it turned out the demon’s visage replaced his own, Doom hid his skeletal face behind an iron mask, and the rest of his flaming form in like armor. A motorcycle, his only concession to humanity, was transformed into a flaming wheeled bike for the monster that would be known as the Doom Rider. The flaming skeleton attempted to hide his face behind bony, burning hands.

“Begone, demon, and never threaten my waters again.” Clenching his bone white fists, his sockets smoldering, Doom glared at the hovering man. “The motorcycle is next,” warned his attacker. Gunning the engine, Doom Rider roared away with a long howl. The destroyed armor clattered to the ground from above. He should have expected Magnamor, when he tried to sink an oil tanker in the harbor. The Atlantean Monarch of Magnetism would never allow that. And honestly, a burning, metal encased demon goes together with a magnetic man of the sea about as well as… well, fire and water.

“Magnamor!” I called. “You know he’s going to come back! Doom doesn’t quit.”

“Nightfire!” called the monarch, and Doom’s armor flew at me, closing around me like an iron maiden, but to no effect.

A bamf of air and brimstone, and I was on Magnamor’s back – my hands on his shoulders, my feet gripping his legs, and my tail wound around his bare torso, all burning hot. “Why don’t you dry up?”

“You dare?!” he exclaimed. His metallic cape coiled around my body, ripped me away, and hurled me to one side. I hadn’t gone far, before I teleported again.

Materializing above him, I hovered and threw a few fireballs just in front of him, to get his attention. “I don’t want to do this, Magnamor!” It was true, I didn’t. Magnamor lived for years as Namor Eisenhardt, where he was imprisoned and branded as a Jew. The manifestation of his magnetic powers, and the discovery of tiny wings on his ankles, stayed his execution, until he was deemed too dangerous. Nazis drugged him, tied a stone around his neck, and threw him in the ocean. Then their troubles began. His memory instantly returned, the Atlantean monarch joined the Allies, and he was frequently known to throw German u-boats and battleships onto dry land, through a combination of magnetism and prodigious strength. He was a hero in my book, but I couldn’t let him tear up a New York harbor.

Just then, I saw a sight straight out of a newsreel. “Then do this – catch!” The oil freighter lifted out of the water, and scraped against dock and tarmac, before plowing through a few mostly empty warehouses. “Doom Rider can come back, but he won’t be sinking that ship in my waters! If he wants war, he will find Latkanda lacking against Atlantis, a kingdom larger than any other on this planet!” He then magnetically ripped the tanks out of the ship, set them aside, and crumpled the rest into a ball about the size of a tractor trailer. Eyebrow raised, he added, “Attack me again at your peril, boy.”

Story, original characters and content are owned by Chris Bishop. Copyright Chris Bishop 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022.