Sometimes, all it takes is one bad day.

Jack Fletcher and his wife barely spoke any more. They only stayed together for the kids, both of whom were in high school and neither of whom spoke to their parents. Every morning, Jack would wake up, shower, have a cup of coffee and a toasted bagel, and then head out to fight the morning traffic to get to a job he hated, answering phones and dealing with irate customers all day long. And then fight with the rush hour traffic again on his way home in the late afternoon.

But today, he’d had enough. Something came over him and when he looked in his side mirror and saw the guy on the motorcycle driving between the cars, he opened his door. The biker hit it and went flying off his motorcycle. Jack climbed out of his car and stormed up to the motorist, now sprawled on the expressway. The guy slowly turned over and looked up at Jack.

“So you think you can just disregard the traffic laws, huh?” asked Jack.

“Wh-what?”

Jack forcefully yanked the helmet off the biker. He was a young guy, in his early twenties. And as Jack looked into the young man’s terrified eyes, something inside him just snapped. He grabbed the biker by the neck and began pummeling him.

“YOU MUST! OBEY! THE TRAFFIC LAWS!”

Other commuters got out of their cars, but no one would move to intervene. Instead, they just watched in stunned horror as Jack beat the poor man senseless. The biker’s face began bruising, cuts opened, and with each strike, Jack’s blows seemed to grow stronger. Soon, they were striking with the force of a meat tenderizer, and it showed on the biker’s face.

Finally, someone attempted to intervene. Another commuter grabbed Jack’s arm as he recoiled for another strike. “Stop it! What are you doing?”

Jack glared at the would-be Good Samaritan. The sclera of his eyes were bright red and his pupils and irises had contracted, now resembling those of a serpent. As he spoke, his tongue flickered out, long and thin and forked.

“Only a sinner would stand in the way of the Lord’s work!”

Jack flung his arm out to the side, and the commuter went flying from the overpass, crashing down below. He stood, facing the others, his teeth now seeming to grow thinner, longer, and sharper. His skin had started to go pale and heat distortion began to occur around his hands. Jack opened his mouth and screamed, and a flaming figure flew from his body, escaping skyward and dissipating as it went higher. And Jack Fletcher collapsed, unconscious.

Champion Tower
Bunker Hill

“…and that’s it?”

In the war room, the Champions were seated around the C-shaped table. Also present was Jessica Jones, a reporter for the Los Angeles Times. With superhuman strength and the ability to fly, Jessica had at one point been an amateur superhero named Jewel but since retired. After working as a private detective for a time, she then got a position as a reporter with the Times.

“Yup. Guy kills two people, then just collapses in the middle of the Santa Monica Freeway,” said Jessica. “When he finally woke up, he claimed the last thing he remembered was seeing the biker in his side mirror.”

“So what makes this a Champions issue?” asked the Goblin.

“Well, there’s the fact that the biker looks like he tried to make out with a steamroller, or the guy who tried to stop Fletcher who got thrown from the Freeway and crashed into a car below,” said Jessica.

“Then he’s a marvel,” said Justice.

Jessica shook her head. “Hospital ran through the full battery of tests. No x-gene, no irradiated blood, no MGH, he’s completely normal.”

“Is there anything else?” asked Silhouette.

“Some of the witnesses say that Fletcher seemed to be changing into some sort of creature and that right before he collapsed, what looked like a flaming creature jumped out of his body,” said Jessica.

“Could be demonic possession,” said Ketch.

Jessica cocked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

Silhouette snickered. “Didn’t you help us fight off vampires not too long ago?”

“Touché.” Jessica focused on Ketch. “You know something about possession?”

Ketch’s eyes flashed with the Hellfire that burned inside his body. “You might say that.”

“So it’s consistent with what you’ve seen?” asked the Goblin.

“There’s no real consistency. Each possession is different,” said Ketch. “There are so many different classes and species of demons out there.”

“What might the demon’s aim be?” asked Hercules.

“Won’t know unless we talk to him,” said Ketch. “I don’t suppose he said anything, did he?”

Jessica flipped through her notepad. “Actually, there is something…My contact at the PD said that he said something about doing the Lord’s work.”

“The Lord’s work?” asked Jubilee. “We sure we’re talkin’ demons here and not angels? Or just crazy evangelist?”

“Jubes has a point. Admittedly, it’s been a long time since Sunday school, but I seem to remember demons wanting to do the opposite of God’s work,” said the Goblin.

Ketch tapped his fingers on the table. The demon’s actions sounded somewhat familiar to him. As if he’d heard something similar at one point in the past. He snapped his fingers once the memory became clear to him. “Got it.”

“Got it? Got what?” asked Jessica.

Ketch got up from his seat and went over to the computer. Increased partnership among superhuman groups led to a sharing of database files on various superhuman criminals that populated the world. As he searched, he explained.

“There’s a group of demons known as the Righteous, self-proclaimed servants of God. They seek redemption for their sins by exterminating other demons and evil in general wherever they find it. Of course, being demons, their definition of what constitutes ‘evil’ is a bit skewed,” he said. “Basically, anyone who’s not a child is fair game and worthy of a death sentence.”

“Why does this sound familiar…?” asked the Goblin.

“Probably because it is,” said Ketch. “I only ever encountered one of the Righteous. First time he and I met, he was bonded with one of the Hobgoblins. The next time, he had split free and become his own man…err, demon.”

A holographic projection of the criminal Ketch had located in the database appeared in the center of the table. A demonic creature with pale skin, red eyes, and a tattered blue and red outfit. He rode a flaming glider and bore a striking resemblance to the Hobgoblin.

“The Demogoblin?” asked the Goblin. “But wait, he died. Even before I found this equipment.”

Ketch made a face. “He’s a demon. They can be banished, they can be imprisoned, they can be defeated. But they never really die. Trust me, I speak from experience.”

“So the Demogoblin is alive and possessing people?” asked Justice. “But why?”

Ketch shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d say he’s looking for a host.”

CRUSADE

By Dino Pollard

Phil ran.

His heart was pounding with such ferocity, he felt it would explode any second now. Sweat ran down his face. He was back in New York, running through the halls of the Daily Bugle. Where, for a time, his Uncle Ben had gotten him a job. But that was a long time ago. The Bugle was empty and dark. No one around except Phil.

And him.

Despite the bright light given off by his flaming glider, the Demogoblin remained hidden in the shadows. He tore after Phil, his glider leaving a trail of fire behind him. His cackle felt like it was everywhere. Phil saw a window ahead at the end of the hall. He pushed himself harder, faster, and jumped. Holding his arms bent in front of his head, he broke through the glass and was now in free-fall.

Phil was now in his Goblin costume, save for the mask. He furiously tapped the button on his bracelet. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…!”

The Demogoblin burst through the Bugle, which was now on fire. He dove, streaking down towards Phil. He held out his bony, nailed fingers, reaching for the young Urich. Before he could reach, Phil’s glider soared beneath him, catching its master. Phil rocketed out of harm’s way, streaking back up.

But the Demogoblin would not be deterred. He stayed on course, just barely trailing behind Phil. The Demogoblin held up his hand, Hellfire igniting within his palm. It formed itself into an orb and the flames receded inside the orb, which was now in the shape of a pumpkin bomb, and the Demogoblin hurled this at his target.

The bomb struck Phil’s glider, exploding on impact and he tumbled, careening towards the asphalt below. The Demogoblin swooped by, throwing out his hand. A cable made of Hellfire extended from his fist, wrapping around Phil and pinning his arms to his body. The Demogoblin cackled as he flew into the night, dragging Phil behind him.

Phil’s eyes snapped open and he jerked up to a sitting position with a gasp. His sheets were soaked in his sweat, but other than that, he was fine. No Hellfire cable binding him, no trace of anything out of the ordinary. He was back in his quarters in Champion Tower.

He climbed out of bed and stripped the damp sheets, depositing them on the floor, followed by his boxers and t-shirt. Phil walked past his Goblin armor and entered the bathroom. His skin glistened with sweat and he wanted to take a shower before putting a fresh set of sheets on the bed and getting back to sleep.

While he rinsed off beneath the shower jets, however, he started to get another thought. He wiped the steam-fogged glass on the glass and past the open bathroom door, he could see the Goblin mask, its vacant eyes staring at him, calling to him. Phil turned off the water, quickly dried himself with a towel, and slowly approached his armor.

“After that crazy dream, feel like I need some fresh air.”

Compton

Dan Ketch stirred in his bed. He had rented out a small apartment, not yet ready to commit fully to the Champions by moving into the Tower. Instead, he decided to remain somewhat independent. He preferred being alone, keeping people at a distance.

His arm fell over the side of the bed and with a start, he spun, sitting up in bed and holding his shotgun at the ready, aiming it at the intruder. With one hand holding the weapon, the other reached over to the nightstand and turned on the lamp. He was surprised when he saw who had broken into his apartment.

“Urich?”

The Goblin was perched on Ketch’s kitchen table not far from the bed, resting on his toes, his legs bent and knees sticking out to the sides. The Goblin’s hands were resting on the table’s surface, as if he were a creature ready to pounce.

“Hi Danny, did I wake you?” asked the Goblin, an odd grin on his face.

“The hell’s the meaning of this?” Ketch lowered the gun and reached for a pack of cigarettes on the nightstand.

“That’s just it,” said the Goblin.

“What are you babbling on about?”

“The meaning of my visit.” The Goblin jumped from the table, landing flawlessly on his feet. “It’s Hell.”

“…have you been drinking?”

The Goblin’s arm whipped up in an arc, and three razor-sharp batwings sliced through the air. Ketch dove from his bed, the wings barely missing him. “What’s wrong with you, Urich?”

“Phil Urich is just the unit I’ve rented out for the moment,” said the Goblin. “But soon, I will be strong enough to gain a body of my own once more.”

Ketch narrowed his eyes. The voice was no longer Phil’s. Instead, it was high in pitch, accompanied with a slight hiss and a vague resemblance to the buzzing of flies. While Phil Urich’s body stood in front of him, it was obvious now that Phil was no longer home.

“Demogoblin.”

The Demogoblin smiled at the recognition. “Did you think I would forget you, demon?”

“Only one demon in this room,” said Ketch. “And I’m lookin’ right at him.”

“Isn’t that precious, you still think yourself human?” The Demogoblin snickered. “Somehow, you have managed to grow even more corrupt without the Rider bonded to your soul. How could that be?”

Ketch made a move for the shotgun, but a pumpkin bomb reduced the bed to splinters and threw the shotgun clear away. The Demogoblin was beginning to take hold in Phil’s body, using him as a conduit for his demonic powers. Ketch couldn’t quite tell because of the mask Phil wore, however, but he imagined that beneath it, Phil didn’t look like Phil any longer.

“All those powers you possessed as the Rider, how is it you still remain so strong?” asked the Demogoblin. “How could you have released such a powerful curse on your very soul?”

“I know a guy who knows a guy.” Ketch jumped to his feet and threw out his arm. Hellfire spiraled out from his hand, forming into a solid chain that wrapped around the Demogoblin’s body, incasing him from head to toe. “I’d introduce you, but something tells me you wouldn’t play nice.”

Ketch pulled on the chain, and the Demogoblin was yanked, flying right past his target. He flew out the window of the fifteenth floor apartment, the chain unraveling as he flew before he was hanging in mid-air. The Demogoblin righted himself so he was upright and pointed his hands towards the ground. Hellfire emerged from his palms, coalescing around his feet and forming into a flaming glider. He circled back around and returned to the apartment, but Ketch was already gone.

Champion Tower

Klaxons blared throughout the Tower, waking all who had taken up residence there. Vance flew towards the war room, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with the Avengers logo emblazoned on the front. Hercules ran alongside him, dressed in nothing. Once they arrived, they found Dan Ketch standing at the computer, shotgun in hand, dressed in his jeans, a red shirt and leather trench coat.

“What took you?” he asked, then noticed his teammate’s lack of clothing and looked away. “And Herc, where are your clothes?”

Hercules shrugged. “I enjoy a sleep of comfort, and mine most comfortable state be nudity.”

“Fair enough,” said Ketch. “Where’s Sil?”

“Right here.” Silhouette strolled out from the shadows, already dressed in uniform. “I was downstairs, training.”

“It’s four in the morning,” said Vance. “What’s this all about, Dan?”

Ketch disabled the emergency alarm. “I found the Demogoblin.”

“What? How?” asked Vance.

“Because he tried to kill me…in Urich’s body. And he was relying a lot more on his usual bag of tricks. Hellfire glider, mystic pumpkin bombs, the whole works. In other words, he’s getting more powerful.”

“The demon hath found a suitable host in friend Urich,” said Hercules.

“Bingo. He said that soon, he’ll be strong enough to survive independent of a host,” said Ketch.

“Why’d he come after you, specifically?” asked Vance. “LA’s a big town and it’s not exactly Mayberry. You’d think he’d have a lot of sinners between here and your apartment. In this building alone—Sil and I don’t exactly have the cleanest of pasts.”

“Aye, and wouldst he not also have a low opinion of a pagan such as the Son of Zeus?” asked Hercules.

Ketch hesitated for a moment, then lied. “I tangled with him when I was the Ghost Rider, remember? Guess he’s still got a mad-on for me.”

Vance went over to the computer. “Did Phil have any of his Goblin gear with him?”

Ketch nodded. “Everything but the glider, at least that’s how it looked.”

“Good, then we’ll be able to track it,” said Vance.

“I’ll run a trace and Dan can contact Jubilee,” said Silhouette. “You two get suited up.”

“Especially you, Herc,” said Ketch.

“Come, friend Vance, back to the closets with us!” said Hercules.

“…might want to rephrase that, big guy,” said Vance.

Once they left, Silhouette worked at activating the tracker in the Goblin’s suit. “So…he really is a god.”

“I’ll call Lee,” said Ketch. “And I’m going to pretend I never heard that.”

“Dan…”

“Please, no ‘Prince of Power’ jokes, Sil. I’m traumatized enough.”

“No, it looks like you don’t have to call Jubilee,” said Silhouette. “Because according to the computer, Phil’s already at her place.”

Dan looked over Silhouette’s shoulder at the computer screen. “Shit… What reason would he have to go after her?”

Hancock Park

“Jubes! Open up!”

The screams were muffled through the glass, but combined with the banging hands on the balcony window were enough to rouse Jubilee from her sleep. Dressed in sweat pants and an Xavier Institute t-shirt, she groggily got out of bed and rubbed her eyes as she went from the bedroom into the living room.

“Phil…?” She quickly ran to the balcony and opened the door. He wore his Goblin costume, save for the mask. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m glad you woke up, there’s something I have to talk to you about.” Phil was exasperated. As if he’d just gotten through a rough ordeal.

“What?”

Phil’s hand burst in flame and his lips curled into a sickening grin. “I wanted to know how easy it was?”

Jubilee backed away, clenching her fists, which began to sparkle like firecrackers. “How easy what was?”

“To kill your own child.”

Jubilee gritted her teeth. “How. Dare. You!”

Phil unleashed the Hellfire blast he’d been building up, shooting Jubilee through the wall and right back into the bedroom. She hit the wall and managed to look up just as Phil approached the hole he’d created with her body. Except he clearly wasn’t Phil any longer. His face was becoming distorted. His eyes turning blood-red and serpentine, his jaw sloping lower, his grin growing wider, and his teeth now like spikes. As he spoke, his tongue flickered like a snake.

“You’re not Phil,” she said.

“I am so much more than he was,” said the Demogoblin. “His connection to the Goblin legacy, the formula that saturates his blood, created a suitable vessel. But this is only temporary. Once I have gained enough strength, I will be reborn. And the Demogoblin shall pursue all sinners with all the fury of the Lord.”

“You want fury, huh? How’s this?”

Jubilee shut her eyes and extended her arms and fingers. Multi-colored streams of pyrotechnic energy fired from her fingertips, but the Demogoblin was quick to avoid them. She opened her eyes, grabbing the sunglasses on her nightstand and slipping them on her face. Smart-glasses was perhaps a better way to describe them. Designed by the mutant engineer called Forge, they were able to not only alter the levels of protection depending on the amount of light in the area, but could also view in different spectrums of light and track motion. And when possessed of a mutant power that could easily blind you, they were an invaluable resource in the field. She moved into the living room, searching for the Demogoblin.

“I wonder, do you know what sort of life you snuffed out with your callous disregard? Was it a boy or a girl?”

“Shut up, you bastard!” Her glasses registered movement and she fired a blast in that direction. “You don’t know anything!”

“I know more than you think, sinner!” The Demogoblin jumped across the room, hurling several pumpkin bombs. Except these were black, not orange. Jubilee attempted to destroy them in mid-air with her powers, but they just coated the air in a thick, black smoke. She coughed, finding herself engulfed by it.

“Jubes…”

She spun at the sound of the voice. Standing behind her was Bobby Drake, the Iceman. Wearing his uniform and a pair of blue-tinted sunglasses. He removed them as he stared into her eyes. “Is he telling the truth? Did you really kill our baby?”

“Bobby…” She nearly choked on his name. “No, it’s not…it wasn’t your baby…it was Pyro’s…he manipulated me, posed as you…”

“And for that, you let it die?” asked Bobby.

“No! I miscarried! I—”

“But you were relieved,” said Bobby. “That’s what you said, isn’t it? How could I have ever loved someone as…inhuman as you?”

She shook her head. “Stop it… You’re not him…”

“Excuses won’t change what you did.”

“I SAID STOP!” Tears blurred her vision as she unleashed a massive display of pyrotechnics at the ghostly image of Iceman.

“The sinner feels remorse,” said the Demogoblin from behind her. Jubilee turned, swinging her leg in a high-kick. But he grabbed her ankle and raised her into the air by it. “Unfortunately, there is nothing that can save your soul.”

He threw her across the room and she struck the large flat-screen television set mounted on the wall. The Demogoblin strolled towards her, an orange pumpkin bomb forming in the palm of his hand. “This will be the final blow. Soon, you will face your judgment. I will pray for your soul.”

He threw the bomb, but it stopped in mid-air, just holding its position there. The Demogoblin watched in surprise. Jubilee weakly looked up and managed a slight smile. “Whatsamatter, Gobby? Can’t get it up?”

The bomb closed in on itself, exploding, but the explosion was barely visible as it was contained within the tight telekinetic bubble. Demogoblin heard noises coming from the shadows. He turned, looking for them. “I can smell your sin…”

From the shadows on the ceiling, the massive figure of Hercules descended upon the Demogoblin, crashing against the floor. He lashed out, his massive fist delivering a powerful blow that sent the Demogoblin flying. Justice, Silhouette and Ketch emerged from the shadows as well and Justice raised the TV off Jubilee’s body, allowing Silhouette to attend to her.

“Since you guys are here, guessin’ you already know the score?” she asked.

“Urich’s possessed,” said Ketch. “Came after me, first.”

“Really? Thanks f’r warnin’ a girl…”

“Blame your realtor, it’s not my fault you live all the way out in Hancock Park.” Ketch cocked his shotgun.

“Dan, be careful,” said Justice. “Phil’s still in there somewhere.”

“I’ll do what I can, boy scout. But no promises,” said Ketch.

“He’s going to kill him, isn’t he?” asked Justice.

Silhouette looked up and saw the Demogoblin trading blows with Hercules. “That’s if the big guy leaves anything left to kill.”

“Can’t let that happen,” said Justice.

“Hey, I’m open to suggestions,” said Silhouette.

“Think I’ve got one,” said Justice.

Hercules swung his adamantine mace, deflecting a blast of Hellfire. He laughed as he did so. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“Pagans, a mockery of the Lord’s work! Servants of evil!” The Demogoblin pounced, clawing at Hercules’ face. The Greek god cringed, reaching behind Demogoblin and gripping him by the back, yanking him off and tossing him aside.

As the Demogoblin jumped for another strike, he was knocked back by a Hellfire blast from Ketch’s shotgun. “Second time I’ve saved you, Herc. That’s another drink you owe me,” said Ketch.

“Striking down buzzing gnats is hardly a life-debt, friend Ketch,” said Hercules.

“Cheap bastard.”

The Demogoblin stood, unaware of Silhouette materializing from the shadows behind him. Her entire body was covered in the darkness and she lunged forward, passing through the body of Phil Urich. The Demogoblin screamed as the shock of the darkness overwhelmed him.

Phil yanked hard on one of the Hellfire bonds that strung him up and it snapped. Then another, breaking it as well. The shock provided by Silhouette’s attack enabled him to gain the upper hand in his mental battle against his body’s unwanted guest.

He fell to the ground, dressed only in street clothes, staring up at his captor. The Demogoblin watched him, the ever-present grin actually gone from his face. As Phil stood, he felt his strength returning. His jeans began to transform into the bottom portion of his Goblin suit.

“You thought you had an easy in, huh?” asked Phil. “Thought I’d be easier to control than the Hobgoblin was? Well, I got news for you, buddy.”

His shirt now began to transform, the Goblin armor extending up his torso and down to his hands. The cape flowed out as well. “Maybe once that would have been true. But not anymore. I’m not the same Phil Urich I once was.”

He took a few steps forward, reaching down to his belt. When he pulled his hand back, he threw several bat-wings at the Demogoblin, slicing into the demon’s flesh. He did it again, striking the Demogoblin once more.

“Now I’m more than what I was. Stronger. Better,” said Phil. His transformation continued, his mask now materializing over his face with the purple hood pulled over the top. “I’m the Goblin. And you’re not welcome here.”

The Goblin began to cackle, his Lunatic Laugh, a patented sonic weapon, echoing throughout and driving the Demogoblin to his knees, causing the creature to grow smaller and smaller.

Phil dropped to his knees, screaming. The Demogoblin’s visage began to fade, his face changing back into Phil’s own. A burning aura of Hellfire surrounded him, before shooting off from his body and flying skyward. Phil stumbled slightly, now resting on his palms. He panted, breathing hard and fast, on the verge of hyperventilation. He got to his feet, but stumbled again, only to be caught by Hercules. Jubilee and Justice entered the scene, cautiously eyeing Phil.

“It’s over…” he said.

“And the demon?” asked Hercules.

“Gone,” said Phil.

“Gone, maybe. But not for good,” said Ketch. He’ll be back, somewhere.”

“C’mon, Phil, let’s get you back to the Tower,” said Justice, using his telekinesis to steady his teammate.

“Sounds good to me,” said Phil.

Silhouette created a portal in the shadows back to Champion Tower. “Dan, I can drop you off at your place as well.”

“Just take me back to the Tower, my bike’s there,” said Ketch.

“Herc, how about you?” asked Silhouette.

“One moment,” said Hercules. He glanced over to Jubilee. “That is what you wear into battle?”

“No, this is what I sleep in. That psycho demon woke me up,” said Jubilee.

Hercules arched his brow. “Thou slumbers in clothing as well?”

Jubilee looked perplexed. “Umm…yeah. Why?”

Hercules chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. “What prudes these mortals be.”

High above, a flight from LAX was suddenly struck with turbulence. One of the passengers woke once the turbulence passed. He rubbed his head, as if just hit by a migraine and then shook it. As the flight attendant passed, he grabbed her hand.

“Excuse me, miss?” he asked. “How long’s the flight?”

“We’ll arrive in New York in around five hours, sir.”

The passenger sat back with a smile. “Excellent. I’m looking forward to getting reacquainted with some old friends…”

NEXT: Night Thrasher returns in issue #14!