Tech Clayton was dead certain his head would explode in seconds. It might be the best thing for me, he thought looking at the blood draining from tech Cook’s lifeless body into the filth of the sewer. What was I thinking joining the magical department at SHIELD? This crap is always happening. He had read the reports. How long did I think I could clean up after whack-job magicians before one of their parlor tricks bit me?
He almost had himself convinced the being that forced him to remove his own eye in favor of the green one was not Loki. Moments ago the domineering presence in Clayton’s mind just shouted at Amora the Witch that he was in fact the Norse god of evil, fire, mischief-blah, blah, blah.
Hijacked in my own body. Just great. The pain from the rough eye transparent fired again. Loki tried to control the terrifying rat-man before it attacked again. The evil god projected his will into the rat-man’s mind to tell it to freeze in place. The strange magical energy flowed over and around Clayton’s psyche. He couldn’t understand how to control the extra power in his mind but he could sense it. It was like standing knee deep in a river flowing just weakly enough that you could remain upright. Any movement and you might be pulled into the flow and be lost forever.
Clayton stood still, as he had since falling before Loki’s will. The flow didn’t originate from Loki though. It ended in the rat-man but the source of the power? He couldn't see it. The beam flowed into Loki’s psychic-self residing in Clayton’s body from further than he could see. Loki must really be reaching to achieve this, Clayton thought.
“You are far from Asgard, wicked one. I can sense your strain,” Amora cooed.
“The enchantress has seen better days. Both in mind and body. You have certainly done well since running away from the battle,” Loki-Clayton said.
“I’ll not suffer the likes of you! Never!” Amora shouted. Her emerald eyes sparkled brilliantly.
Loki lost his grip on the rat-man. Claws bared, it charged.
====================
Jake Olson woke with a start, unsure of where he was. He looked around and found the familiar dresser, nightstand with four months of unread sports illustrated magazines, his ten year old TV stood on the shelf he hung four years. He was in his bedroom, laying on his bed which was where he went to sleep. All was as it should be. Except his body was missing.
When Jake looked down at himself he found not the body he had worn since birth. He saw the body of Thor, God of Thunder.
MARVEL REBORN PRESENTS...
THE MIGHTY THOR
#6
by
C. William Russette
and
Doug Bookey
Jake was sure he hadn’t gone to sleep in the Thor form. That meant he somehow changed in his sleep. That was new. Becoming the god usually took an act of willpower.
It didn’t matter, Jake decided. There’s only one thing I need to worry about. Finding this Blake guy. I have to stop him before he can get to his weapon. What ever it might be.
Jake’s bed complained when Thor’s massive body rose off it. He looked at the cell phone on the nightstand. There were two messages. He scrolled through the numbers. Hannah’s was the first. The hospital the second. She must have come to her senses and she’s calling to apologize. Finally! Now we can get past what ever this stupid fight is about and move on. How long has it been since I saw Amanda anyway?
Thor dialed Jake’s phone to check his voice mail.
//Jake, I’m not sure how to do this or what to say so I’ll just say it. I don’t know what has been happening with you since you started your second job. I think it has done something to you, maybe to your mind. The old Jake, the one I fell in love with, would never act the way you have been. He was man enough to know when he was wrong and apologize. I don’t know if that man is still inside you or not but for Amanda’s sake I can’t wait around anymore.
“We’re through, Jake. I’m sorry things have to end this way. I wanted to meet you in person but you don’t even have time to answer the phone anymore, never mind meet me for coffee. I called Demetrius and he picked up the things you left here. Good bye, Jake. I hope things works out for you.//
That was her message? Not, I’m sorry for being so bossy, for being a self centered, unsupportive little skank. Screw you, Jake. I’m looking for a better Daddy for my little girl. What ever. Like I need her crap anyway. I’m freakin` Thor. I can get any woman I want.
Do I even want to know what the hospital wanted?
Thor accessed the speaker phone and played the message.
//I’m trying to reach Jake Olson? This is supervisor Maksim. You have been absent from work for the past four days with no word of illness or personal emergency. Only your past evaluations have kept me from dismissing you already. If I don’t hear from you by the end of the week there won’t be a job here for you anymore. Thank you.//
“Son of a bitch!”
Thunder boomed outside the building. The windows vibrated in their frames. Thor stomped to the door and tore it off it’s hinges as though it were made of cardboard. He raced up the stairs and kicked out the door leading to the roof.
“Who the hell locked that thing? I ain’t paying for it. I may not have a job to pay for it. The nerve of that prick Maksim. Threatening me. Me!”
Again the thunder rolled, high above. The clouds descended, tumbling over one another excitedly.
“I think I need to pay him a little visit.” Thor tried to check the time the call was received only to find his cell phone crushed in his massive hand. In his excited rush to reach the open sky he had held the phone too tightly. Thor hurled it without care for where it might land. “Damn it all!”
“I will visit Maksim and make him understand that Jake Olson is not to be treated with anything but the highest degree of respect! The balls of that guy even thinking about firing me!” Lightning forked around the rooftop and a hard rain began to fall.
“Maksim will get his. Hell yes he will. But first, I think Hannah needs to learn exactly what she’s in danger of losing if she tries to break up with me. The things I could do for her... to her, and she thinks she can play queen of the realm? With me?”
Thor’s eyes discharged white arcs of lightning.
“Hammer!” Thor ordered. The hammer smashed it’s way from Jake’s apartment, through the units between himself and the hammer. The leather slapped into Thor’s palm satisfactorily.
Thor took to the air unaware of the mirthless grin he wore.
====================
Dr. Donald Blake looked around the street as much as his vantage point would allow from the small alcove beyond his apartment building’s foyer. The combat in the Thor-Perrikus fight greatly damaged the area. Blake and the other residents spent days tidying because everyone knew if they did not, the wreckage would remain indefinitely. The cleaning was done by day. The time after sunset now induced a horrid feeling and had since the battle.
A patient came, calling though everyone knew the clinic to be closed for refurbishment. The seventy year old man had been mugged and in the course of the robbery been stabbed though he had not resisted.
Blake could not turn the man away. During the brief seconds it took for the man to enter, Blake’s heart quickened. His throat became parched, sweat ran down his back. There was no one about on the ravaged street. No shadows shifted that might conceal someone or some thing. He could find no reason for the sensation. Once the door was closed and secure the feeling passed.
Once the man was treated, Barney was his name, he offered what he could and promised more. Blake was used to it. He would either return or he would not. Most of the money went to supplies anyway. Blake forgot about what was in the night until he let Barney out.
The two men exchanged a stare and Barney left for where ever he lived. Barney refused an escort. Maybe he didn’t think a lame doctor with a broken arm would of much help. Then the anxiety assaulted Blake. He hoped Barney would make it.
Someone was watching. Waiting? Maybe, he thought and closed then bolted the door. There would be no sleep. He knew that much. The dream, which had come two nights running, played in his mind.
Lightning struck Thor in the head. Blake barely had time to shield his face with his arms before being bombarded with godly meat and bone shrapnel. The explosion knocked him off his feet.
The laughing began. It started from high overhead then drew steadily closer. Still shielding his eyes Blake could hear the ravens.
"Behold, mortal! The destroyer comes!" Munin the raven said.
Blake hoped it was a dream after rising from the first night. It faded through the work of the day. Last night it returned, stronger. The scent of the sepulchral world lingered in his nostrils even after Blake lay awake for an hour. He knew upon waking that he could ignore the dream no longer. Tonight he would act.
His heart pounded when the yellow cab finally pulled up. While it would have been smarter to move through the streets by day Blake did not. He could not. Something deep inside that sat next to instinct, told him the darkness would have to be faced. He could try to run and hide, prolonging the conflict, or face the foe.
Blake scanned the vicinity a final time and leaning heavily on his cane limped to the car.
“Drive,” Blake said.
“Where to, s-”
“Just go!” There was no reason for the fear that he could determine. Blake felt eyes on him even when he wasn’t near a window.
The cabbie had a valid question. A blisteringly irritating question. Where was he supposed to go? Blake checked in every direction but found nothing. No one was watching him. No trolls chased the cab. No pack of werewolves blocked the road ahead. He should feel safe but Blake did not. If anything his fear had doubled.
Why though? Had he seen something and not known it? He was traveling away from the clinic. The feelings of danger should be dissipating.
Unless the it was still with him.
“Driver,” Blake said.
“Yeah?” he turned his head slightly.
Why is he wearing sunglasses after dark?
“Do you have a medical condition?”
“You mean the glasses,” he said after a pause. “Right. Ya, I do.”
“How long have you had nyctalopia?”
“Since birth.”
“That’s interesting. Stop the car.”
“What?”
“Stop the car, now,” Blake ordered.
The driver ran through a red light.
“I want to know who you are and what is going on,” Blake said. The anxiety abated with the idea of getting some kind of answer. He was finally face to face with at least part of the mystery. Was this man working with the ‘other’ that sought the hammer? Was he the other, a solo operative? A terrorist? Maggia hit man? Who else would want the hammer of Thor? Heck, who wouldn’t.
“Nyctalopia is night blindness. If you suffered from it you wouldn’t be wearing sunglasses at night or driving a cab. Now, I asked you a question,” Blake said.
“Relax, Doctor Blake. We’re just going for a ride through New York. Sit back.” The driver looked into the rearview mirror and lowered his glasses revealing cataract-ridden eyes. “Try to enjoy yourself.”
Blake went for the door handle. The guts were either disconnected or missing within the door. The handle was little more than a play thing. The window knob was equally useless.
“Who do you work for?”
The driver made no attempt to answer.
“Where are you taking me?”
Silence.
“What happens when I get there?”
The driver removed his sunglasses and tossed them to the passenger seat mechanically. His milky eyes glanced back at Blake once then returned to the road. How yer driving I don’t know but you are not seeing out of those eyes.
Well at least I know that I’m not crazy or a paranoid. There was someone watching my place. The question is who. Another good question would be why but that might not be the most pressing thing to be debating. If I knew why this guy was after me then I might better know who he is. If I were a whole man, not a doctor with a bum leg and a broken arm, I might have a decent shot at escape.
What do I know for a fact? Thor has reentered my life. Up until recently I didn’t even know he had ever been in my life let alone that I was Thor at some point in my foggy past. I also believe (can’t say I know this because it defies reason) that two mythical creatures told me that the Thor I met is somehow wrong and the real Thor’s hammer is somewhere out there. They also said that I needed to get it before some other. This will divert some kind of epic disaster though I’ve no idea how.
Operating on the pretense that all that is true and real, as real as magic gets, where does that leave me? Maybe this cabbie is the other or is an agent of the other. I don’t think he has the hammer or he wouldn’t be bothering with me and he would begin his destroy-the-world campaign. He must think or has somehow learned that I am after the hammer. Being the opposition he doesn’t want me to have it and is... taking care of the opposition. There’s one sure way to take care of the opposition but thinking that way isn’t going to help me now.
I have no idea where he’s going. His turns seem to be random but he could just be taking me somewhere convenient to dump the body. Time is running out. I need to think. What do I have that I can use? Blake made a mental inventory of everything in his possession.
He didn’t even bother to tie me up. That’s how much of a threat I am to him. Blake rested both hands on his cane and sighed. The driver settled his milky eyes on Blake through the mirror for a moment. He thinks I’m so insubstantial not only didn’t he tie me up but he has allowed me to keep the cane. It has a steel head and tip over a wooden shaft but that guy, if he’s even human, has me by sixty pounds. Without the broken arm there’s no way I can fight my way out of this. I’ve never been a fighter though. I’m a doctor not a god.
Blake used all his concentration to keep the spark of revelation off of his face. He would only get one shot at it and the end result might be a very messy death. Blake was going to be murdered at the end of the car ride anyway. Better to die on his terms. No, that was macho nonsense. Better to outlive your enemy. It was better to live.
Keeping his face and upper body as stone-still as possible, Blake slowly reached up with his good hand and pulled down the shoulder belt. The driver paid no attention to him. Blake took a short breath, raised his cane with his good hand and cracked it into the back of the driver’s skull. He had hoped the driver would be momentarily stunned or drowsy enough that he might be able to get him into a head lock and choke him into unconsciousness. The maneuver would allow him to remain in his seatbelt when the car crashed.
Nothing of the sort happened.
The metal head of the cane no sooner came away from landing the solid strike then the milky eyed driver went into massive convulsion, like a grand mall seizure, and changed shape. What was once a stocky, middle aged man with cataract ridden eyes became, as far as Blake could tell, the thick tree branch with the limbs broken off so that it vaguely resembled the shape of man.
The car hit a pot hole and changed direction. Small branches on the end of a limb of the tree snapped off as the steering wheel spun without control. Blake saw the parked car he was approaching and knew he was helpless in the backseat. There would be no time to unbelt, get into the front seat and work around the tree-man-thing in an attempt to regain control of the car. He would ride it out. Blake held tight to the seatbelt and closed his eyes.
====================
“You’ve looked better, Enchantress,” Loki-Clayton said.
“At least I’m whole, trickster,” Amora said.
What are they doing, Clayton wondered. That thing is coming and they’re bantering! Clayton tried to will his body to run, to strike, anything but just stand there in the energy flow that did not hold the rat-man anymore.
The creature snarled and leapt.
Loki exerted his will again on the rat-man but the hybrid was already in flight. He crashed into Clayton and he felt something, maybe a collarbone, snap. Both fell, both lay still.
“Amora, why are you attacking this body? The nine worlds, including Asgard and the one you are standing on teeter on destruction. Mayhap you recall?”
Clayton rolled the now paralyzed rat-man off of himself. The stink of dank feces and urine came off the rat-man in waves. Clayton felt his stomach churn.
“You are another of Zelia’s litter! Come to finish me off. I do not know how you found me but-”
“Amora, when has anyone ever claimed to be Loki, other than Loki?”
The haggard, hideous looking woman that Loki called Enchantress seemed perplexed. Clayton didn’t get how she earned that name. The witch looked anything but enchanting.
“I see I have your attention. That spell truly tasked you during your escape.”
The rat-man rose to a squatting position and snarled. Clayton wondered if Loki noticed.
“Where are you, second son? Why come to me in pieces?” Amora said.
Clayton felt the anger swell around him in the fleshy prison that was once his body.
“I am in Asgard. Your attempted escape gave me the moment I needed to win free. I do not have the strength to penetrate the barrier that the Dark Gods have erected around Asgard. Had I known this I would not have made the attempt to cross the worlds. They have all but shattered Bifrost.”
Amora looked horrified, making her appearance harder to look at.
“All is lost... all lost,” she said and dropped to her haunches holding herself and swaying.
Clayton felt Loki’s frustration. It pleased him and scared him. If this was the god from the vikings who knew where he might take Clayton’s body. What does a supposed god-
-not supposed, you wretched gadfly. I am a god!
Clayton would have screamed had he control of his body. Was Loki been listening the whole time?
Of course I have. If you ever wish to use this foul concoction of meat and bone again you will be silent!
Something broke in my chest when that thing smashed into us-me.
Clayton watched in horror as his hand reached out to the rat-man against his will.
No! Don’t! Clayton felt the control over the rat-man loosen. He dashed forward and clamped his jagged teeth down on Clayton’s fingers.
Clayton felt it all and howled in agony within his own body. The rat-man tore his head away from Clayton rending ring and middle finger from his hand. Loki then resumed total control over the hybrid.
I care nothing for this carcass you inhabit, mortal. Remember that while you pray I return it to you alive if not intact. Should I fail you won’t live long anyway.
“Loki, what was the meaning of that?” Amora asked.
“The owner of this body was wondering about his importance in the grand scheme of things.”
Amora’s eyes scanned the scum covered ceiling and mumbled to herself. Clayton felt the prickle of Loki’s irritation but said nothing.
“Your beauty and peace of mind can be restored. It is within my means,” Loki said.
Amora looked to Loki-Clayton.
“Well within my means,” Loki said.
“My... beauty?”
“I will need your skills for a task first, you understand,” Loki said.
Amora listened in silence.
Clayton waited.
====================
The winds hurled the godly form of Thor through the sky with ever increasing speed as though his acceleration was controlled by his raging emotional state. Hannah’s ten story apartment building finally came into view. She was going to learn a thing or two tonight, Jake thought. No doubt there. Hopefully Amanda is over at a friends house or something. On second thought, what does it matter if she is there? The young wench needed to learn these adult lessons at some point, Jake thought. Presumably she would want to go out and find a man to please and serve as well. She wasn’t going to learn anything from her mother’s behavior. Amanda might learn from what such behavior earned her mother though.
Thor released his control on the local weather conditions and fell the remaining seventy feet to the rooftop. He landed easily and looked around. He was certain he saw something on his approach. Thor looked down over the edge of the roof. There, standing on the front stoop of the building, talking to Demetrius, was Hannah.
Right there in public. The little whore just flaunts her cheating-ass. How long have you been dating my woman, Demetrius? I have had enough of being taken advantage of and the scum that disrespect me, Jake thought.
“I am officially through getting punked out by fools like this,” Thor said and leapt off the building.
Thor descended. His eyes discharged small white forks of lightning, his hammer was raised over his head in a two handed grip. His face wore an expression of pure malice. He was going to enjoy teaching these two mortals their lesson. If they lived it would be-
-a fist that felt like granite crashed into Thor’s face sending him spinning off course to almost cocoon himself in a red Taurus. Thor peeled himself free and strained his eyes to see who stood between him and his targets.
“Finally! I’ve been looking for you so long. Who ever you are, it is not Thor,” the gray man said in thickly accented english.
Thor examined his attacker carefully. He seemed to be made of animated stone. He could even talk. Both of which were impossible but then he carried a magic hammer himself. Though he looked like a walking statue he still wore a domino mask. It takes all kinds, Jake thought.
“I’m getting damn tired of people telling me I’m not Thor. That isn’t news. Thor is dead. The hammer is mine. The power is mine. That’s all there is to it,” Thor said, “Get lost, frenchie or I‘ll turn you to gravel.”
Hannah and Demetrius watched from the front stoop. A look of terror and disbelief on their faces. They will get what’s coming to them. Real soon, Jake thought.
“While I will enjoy beating you within an inch or your life, faux-god, I will most enjoy taking your hammer from you,” the gray man of stone said.
“You really need to consider getting a better outfit, pal. You look like an idiot,” Thor said.
“You are concerned with my attire? Perhaps your attention would be better spent,” the stone man reached out with his right hand but missed Thor, “watching the man inside the clothes!” A solid left hook crashed into Thor’s jaw.
“Oui?” the stone man said and reached out again with his right hand. Thor rotated away, landed a roundhouse punch that sent the stone man through the air and into a parked lime green, Serv-Pro van.
I feel like I should know this fool. He must be an old enemy of the original Thor. Well I don’t have time to go screwing around with some French bad guy. Thor looked to see Hannah and Demetrius leaving the street wearing concerned faces.
“Where do you two think you’re going?” Thor yelled.
The stone man picked the wrecked van over his head with some difficulty and threw it.
“Idiot,” Thor said and threw his hammer, destroying the van and sending metal parts everywhere.
The stone man watched the parts fly about not caring to dodge the axle or tire. It struck him squarely in the chest. He grinned.
“You are a refreshing change. When Thor fought the Grey Gargoyle in the past his concern for the innocent bystanders was paramount to trying to defeat me. You do not care at all?” the Grey Gargoyle said.
Thor was about to chase after Hannah. He turned and faced the Grey Gargoyle .
“Of course I care. I’m the good guy here. You’re the one destroying private property. Surrender now and we can end this before anyone gets hurt,” Thor said.
“Surrender? That is an excellent idea. Surrender to me your hammer and I will leave you alive and harm no one.” Grey Gargoyle folded his arms and waited.
Is this guy serious? Thor threw his hammer at the Grey Gargoyle .
Grey Gargoyle ducked low, avoiding the throw and crashed into Thor. He drove his head up smashing Thor’s teeth together. The air rushed out of Thor’s lungs from the punches Grey Gargoyle landed to his trunk. In the second it took for Thor to recover the Grey Gargoyle took his left arm by the wrist and grinned maliciously.
“What the hell?” Thor yelled.
His left hand immediately lost all feeling. He stared at it disbelievingly. It froze in position and began changing color and texture to match that of his stone-skinned opponent. Thor began loosing feeling in forearm as his left shoulder started to tingle.
“The true Thor would never have allowed me to get so close as this. He knows what the touch of the Grey Gargoyle means! Au revoir, Thor.”
====================
Donald Blake took in his surroundings. He was alive if slightly banged up. The driver wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and faired less favorably. What happened to that man when I clubbed him with my cane? Was he reduced to-to wood? Was he wood all along? There weren’t any answers in the back seat.
Blake kicked out the damaged rear-passenger window. He more fell than climbed out of the car as a second car pulled up behind the wreck.
“You okay, sir?” a man said. He stepped out from the passenger side.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Blake said rotating his left shoulder. The sudden stop had wrenched him terribly. He expected to be sore for a few days at least. Sore was better than whatever the driver had in mind.
“Why don’t you let us give you a ride to the hospital so you can get checked out? You can’t be too careful, doc,” a deep voiced man said from the driver’s side of the car.
“How did you know I was a doctor?” Blake asked.
“You just told us a second ago. You said...” the driver trailed off.
Both men started walking towards Blake.
“Get in the car, human.” a guttural voice of the passenger said.
Blake started to back away but knew his limp was going to prohibit him from running. He looked all around him. Where was everyone? What metropolitan city street is ever completely devoid of people? Not a streetwalker or homeless person anywhere? Who are these guys? Blake caught a glance of the driver’s right eye as he passed in front of his headlight. It was as cataract-riddled as his driver’s eyes were.
“It will only hurt more if you resist, human,” the driver said.
The passenger backhanded Blake to the ground easily. Blake touched his nose. His fingers came away bloody. He looked up and saw that the passenger had the same milky eyes as his partner.
“Who are you people? What is all this-”
The passenger kicked Blake hard in the ribs stealing his wind. The driver kicked Blake in the forehead twice and world began to spin of it’s own accord. He clenched his fists and found that his cane was still in his right hand. The passenger stomped on his lame leg. Blake howled. If I don't’ think of something soon they won’t have to take me anywhere to kill me.
Blake mumbled.
“What?” the driver kicked Blake in the hip.
Again Blake mumbled.
The driver bent down, “What was that, hu-”
Blake thrust the tip of his cane into the man’s eye with all his strength. The man convulsed and Blake retrieved his cane. There was no blood on the tip or the man’s face. He attempted to grab at his face once, froze, then his flesh blew away like sand before a wind storm. All that remained was another misshapen tree.
“Filthy little human. I will break you right-”
Blake rotated at the waist, rolling over onto his back and brought down the metal head of the cane across the man’s face. The man then convulsed, stiffened and simply was wood. The why of it escaped Blake entirely.
I have to get out of here before more show up. I don’t think anywhere is safe. The only way to even the odds and maybe find some answer to all this madness is to get to that hammer and fast.
Blake checked the vicinity of the wooden-driver but didn’t see the car keys. The headlights were still on but the didn’t necessarily mean much. Hopefully the keys weren’t also wooden like their owner.
The keys were in the car’s cup holder. Blake breathed a sigh of relief and started the car. These things were somewhat organized but not very bright. They were strangely easy to take down too. One whack a piece with the cane and they turned to wood. Why?
Blake pulled away slowly, careful not to run over the three now-wooden men. Sirens approached.
His cane wasn’t magical, he knew that. It was a gift from one of his patients as his means allowed. The man had been a metal worker of some sort. The head and tip were made specially for the oak shaft. It didn’t look special. Unique certainly, and sturdy but not so much as an etching on it. Didn’t the man say it was cast steel, or was it iron?
A memory teased Blake from deep in his mind. Something about iron and... the memory flitted away. Another memory, not about this cane but another cane he once owned. That cane was magical. The hammer! Mjolnir is it’s name! It turned into a cane when Blake wasn’t Thor.
He had to find that hammer.
Why didn’t those ravens just say where it was? If this was so important why not just say which junkyard to find the hammer of Thor? The raven came to me. Spoke to me. That means they want me to do it. Unless I’m crazy of course.
Again, Blake went over the conversation he had with the ravens Hugin and Munin after the imposter-Thor fought Perrikus. Nothing leapt out at him as relevant. There was only the repeating dream. There was no name on the scrap yard though. Had it taken place in Chicago he might have a shot at recognizing the neighborhood but this was Manhattan.
Fine, pondering the scrap yard was getting him no where. Start at the beginning of the dream. I just appear on the intersection and there’s death everywhere. It stinks. There’s thunder and I see the ravens. They’re always on the 46th Street-
Blake almost drove off the road and into a street lamp. Regaining control of the car with only one good arm was not easy but he managed to do it. Another driver cussed at him as he drove by.
“46th Street past the 10th Street intersection!” Blake hit the accelerator.
==========
AUTHOR’S NOTE: