Remember that science claims a man’s whole life. Had he two lives they would not suffice. Science demands an undivided allegiance from its followers. In your work and in your research there must always be passion.
Ivan Petrovich Pavlov
1849-1936

PASSION

By Derrick Ferguson

Woodgod could scarcely believe his eyes as he watched the frail human he had so rudely manhandled just a few seconds ago acquire roughly a thousand pounds of massive muscle right before his startled eyes. His surprise was even more of a personal impact because he recognized the emerald giant that now stood before him, glowering green eyes volcanic with murderous hate. Broad nostrils flaring and the air expelling from them felt as hot as if they were coming straight from a heart born in Hell. Yes, it had been years ago when they had met. It had been not long after Woodgod’s unnatural birth. He had not been as articulate or intelligent as he was now. Back then his artificially created brain had still been rapidly developing, learning, maturing. But now he could reason and speak and it was in his power to maybe prevent yet another tragedy occurring in these doom haunted woods. Woodgod raised his wide hands in the universal gesture of peace and shouted; “WAIT! We must speak before-”

However, trying to speak to an enraged Hulk is far worse than an exercise in futility. It borders on sheer stupidity. The Hulk roared and charged Woodgod. There was a furnace of frustrated rage blazing white-hot inside the cavernous chest of The Hulk. The humiliation of his recent injuries at the hands of The Human Torch and the betrayal of The Leader were still painfully fresh in the jade giant’s brain and The Hulk tended to take out his frustrations on whoever or whatever was closest and right now that was Woodgod.

Woodgod quickly saw that The Hulk was in absolutely no mood to hear anything and so he prepared himself, sidestepping quickly, his hooves striking sparks from flinty rocks under hoof as he nimbly dodged The Hulk’s charge with an agility that was freakishly graceful for one with such a monstrous aspect. The Hulk swung a mighty arm that was as thick as Woodgod’s body and caught Woodgod a solid blow. Woodgod was thrown a good hundred feet through the air, tumbling over and over. He smashed into the trunk of two hundred year old tree, splintering the forest elder. With a grinding, snapping sound it crashed to the ground in a storm of dirt and leaves.

Woodgod growled as he got to his hooves. Peaceful as he was, he also didn’t like being manhandled by a brute. He came over the mossy ground at the amazed Hulk, his legs a blur, sparks left in his trail. The Hulk gawped, taken totally by surprise. He’d expected to kill this animal with that one blow but here it was, coming back for more, running flat out and drawing back a muscular brown arm to-

BOOM!

Woodgod’s punch sent The Hulk flying backwards, digging a wide trench into the ground. The Hulk was totally shocked. Not only had this animal taken his best shot but had come back with as good as he got. The Hulk roared, coming up swinging and the forest reverberated with the sounds of might fists pounded on flesh hard as stone, sounding like boulders being smashed together. Their grunts were loud enough to frighten animals for a mile away and birds, deer, foxes and bears among other forest denizens scattered. The sounds of the terrible conflict echoed and re-echoed.

The Hulk landed a blow to the side of Woodgod’s head that staggered him, driving him to the right, setting him up for a left to the ribs caused Woodgod to gasp out loud. The world was growing dark as his hyper-efficient lungs struggled to draw in a decent breath of air. It had been a long time since Woodgod had fought anyone or anything this powerful and he was going to have to-

WHAM!

A solid straight right to the jaw sent Woodgod flying up and down in an arc that ended with him smashing back down to earth, causing the ground to vibrate like a plucked guitar string. The Hulk grinned maliciously. There wasn’t any way that the animal could have survived a punch like that. The Hulk had put The Rhino out for half a day with a punch like that once. The Hulk stomped over to where Woodgod lay. He didn’t appear to be breathing and the right side of his head was grotesquely swollen. The Hulk leaned over and poked Woodgod in the stomach with a thick finger-

And Woodgod’s fur covered left leg whipped up and straight out, the large black hoof impacting squarely into The Hulk’s genitalia.

A party of eight fishermen in a boat on Lake Cumberland nine miles away heard something that sounded like a beast howling in agony. They stopped their conversation, puzzled at what the sound could be, where it could have come from. Unable to locate or identify the source of the sound they went back to the beer and the fishing.

The Hulk staggered away from his foe, hugging his outraged delicates with one hand while his other hand tightened into the most powerful mortal fist on the planet and brought it down. Woodgod nimbly rolled out of the way as the fist came down and hit the ground with enough force to cause the earth the split, zigzagging fissures radiating out in all directions, dirt bursting upwards into the air from the deep fractures. Woodgod couldn’t stay on his hooves as the earth was bouncing up and down like a trampoline and that momentary loss of balance was all The Hulk needed. Again he exhibited that uncanny, frightening speed as he sprang upon Woodgod and used his weight to slam him into the still quivering ground.

“Wait!” Woodgod gasped. “WAIT!”

The Hulk brought his large, squarish head down close and hissed in Woodgod’s pointed ear, “wait for what? I’m gonna kill you, you goddamn animal. You think you can kick The Hulk in the nuts and I’m gonna leave you alive to walk around braggin’ ‘bout it? BULLSHIT on that.” The Hulk’s hands tightened on Woodgod’s neck and torso. Woodgod’s vision began to darken with a terrifying rapidity and all he could feel was the hot fetid breath and the guttural obscenities muttered by the jade monster that was choking the life out of him…

There was a good joke in the name of The Kwaidan Corporation but you had to be a real hardcore movie buff to pick up on it. “Kwaidan” was the name of a Japanese movie composed of five separate ghost stories. The Kwaidan Corporation was composed of five separate divisions that were no more than elaborate fronts or ‘ghosts’ to hide the true purpose of The Kwaidan Corporation.

The American headquarters were located just a few miles outside of Seattle. A graceful, curving building, three times as wide at the base as was at the top. The Kwaidan Building was a wonderful piece of modern architecture, as much art as a functional place to work. It also was a completely state of the art ‘smart building’ that the designers hoped would evolve into sentience any day now. Now behind The Kwaidan Building was another structure, a smaller gray dome with no windows. The entire smooth surface of the dome was in actually one huge network of sensors and telemetry grids. This building was what The Kwaidan Corporation was a front for. Here was where the billion and billions of dollars The Kwaidan Corporation made were poured into. And while the name of the building had a soothing sound it’s actually purpose and reason for existence was one of technological horror.

For you see, this was Serenity Base.

One of the largest of the many conference halls inside the base was filling up rapidly with representatives from many nations, many countries. Most of these representatives were from other corporations, some from governments as official representatives, some not. Others represented private interests. Nearly sixty men and women from all over the globe had come at the summons of the brilliantly deranged woman who was in charge of Serenity Base and the work being done there.

They took their seats in the stadium-like conference hall, the quiet murmuring of their conversation dying down as they made themselves comfortable and waited. The lights were dimmed slightly, except for the recessed lighting illuminating the circular stage. A door at the far end of the hall opened and a woman slowly walked into the conference hall, graciously acknowledging the quiet ripple of respectful applause that filled the hall.

She was dressed in a formfitting metallic suit of intricate design that shimmered an iridescent pale cerulean. Circuitry inlaid on the surface of the suit in patterns like those of ancient hieroglyphics from some future time. A row of crystal bars perhaps two inches wide ran up the side of her left leg and her right arm. The bars pulsed and throbbed with their own inner life. They gradually darkened from maroon to sable, and then turned transparent and the cycle would start again. Her head was bald save for a thin black ponytail that reached from the back of her delicately shaped head almost to her knees. And as she stepped fully into the light, another striking thing about her was immediately apparent:

Her skin was a rich, healthy, deep shape of green.

The woman was very beautiful indeed with neon blue eyes that demanded attention and respect. Not a tall woman at all. Perhaps five feet three inches even in her high heels. But her striking appearance along with the bizarre yet wonderfully exotic metallic suit she wore gave her a stature that went beyond mere height.

Professor Janelle Ban cleared her throat and took her place at the podium. “Thank you all so much for coming to Serenity Base on such short notice,” she said in a strong clear voice that had a wondrous singsong lilt that vaguely sounded Caribbean but there was another, stranger infliction that was most difficult to place. “I know how difficult it was for many of you to get away but I trust that you know for a certainty that I would not have called you here if the need were not most pressing.” Professor Janelle Ban’s left hand reached inside of her stomach, passing through the metal of the suit as if it did not exist and withdrew a pair of glasses and an oval device that appeared to be some sort of electronic notebook. The screen of the device lighted up at her touch and she put her glasses on.

“I’ll get right down to business: our plan of either duping or recruiting Doctor Bruce Banner aka The Hulk into working for or with us has been disastrously compromised. We’ve already lost Thaddeus Ross due to mismanagement of colossal proportions and I am beginning to have serious misgivings about further use of the Talbot clone. But in his defense let it be noted that without the clone we would not have acquired some important pieces of Banner’s technology which have been brought here to Serenity Base.”

Another ripple of pleased applause filled the room.

A female Russian voice from the eleventh row spoke over the applause: “I was opposed to the Talbot clone being used in the first place. As well as Ross. When it comes to The Hulk, Ross was always unstable.”

Professor Ban sighed and nodded reluctantly. “In retrospect, the entire scenario of having the Talbot clone pretend to be Ross’s prisoner to lure Banner in proved to be overly complicated and compromised too many valuable resources. Apparently Ross snapped and instead of following the plan attempted to kill The Hulk on his own.”

From the sixth row, a deep male Australian voice said; “I always said we should have made Banner a straight up and down offer. Banner’s always looking for a home, a place to stop running. He’s tired of walking down that damn highway with his thumb out.”

Professor Ban shook her head. “We discussed that exhaustively and it was decided that we couldn’t take the chance. Our sources inform us that recently it appears as if Banner and The Hulk have reached some sort of agreement that has resulted in a blending of certain aspects of their personas. The two personalities seem to be working together toward some common goal that cannot be determined by our profilers. Both Banner and The Hulk are perhaps more dangerous now than they’ve ever been before. Our psychologists and profilers have advised that we throw out the book on everything we thought we knew about both Bruce Banner and The Hulk. There is now simply no way of predicting what either of them will do in any given situation.”

An American voice full of the richness of the south spoke from the second row: “Why don’t we just abandon our plans to use The Hulk? You’ve done some mighty extraordinary work on your own, Professor.” Again a ripple of respectful applause filled the hall. Professor Ban held up a metal hand that flashed in the light as she smiled.

“Thank you, thank you. And yes, my work has been remarkable. As of now we have twelve subjects who have survived the various procedures and surgeries that I have developed to safely induce gamma-irradiated mutation. But we could do so much more if we had Bruce Banner and The Hulk. No matter how much I have done I could labor another twenty years and still never have half of the knowledge that Bruce Banner has when it comes to gamma radiation. Even after all this time, being a man on the run with no access to proper equipment or time to research, Bruce Banner is still regarded as the world’s leading expert on gamma radiation. As for The Hulk…what more needs to be said that if there’s such a thing as a living gamma bomb, then The Hulk is it. The Hulk has beaten just about every superhuman being on the planet he’s ever fought and survived the attacks of entire armies. He’s been hit with every type of weaponry this planet has from a peashooter to a nuclear warhead and he’s still alive. Ladies and gentlemen, in my professional opinion I don’t even think that it IS possible to kill The Hulk.” Professor Ban leaned on the podium and her eyes sparkled as she continued:

“And that’s why we need them. Somewhere in the DNA of Bruce Banner there’s the answer we need. And there’s somebody here who has set his own plan in motion for locating The Hulk and getting what we need and he’s going to speak to you now.” Professor Ban stepped back from the podium and added her applause to that of the others as The Vice-President Of The United States stood up and walked grandly to the stage.

Slowly the world came back into focus as Woodgod’s great lungs deeply drew life-enriching oxygen into them. He looked up at his enemy, surprised to find himself still alive. The Hulk had removed his enormous hands from Woodgod and had raised his crushing weight up off from Woodgod’s chest. The Hulk’s head was cocked to one side as if he were listening intently to someone standing at his shoulder but Woodgod could neither see or smell anyone there. Still, The Hulk’s body language was unmistakably that of listening very carefully to something important that was being said to him.

Woodgod scrambled clear and stood up, massaging his sore neck. The Hulk kept a wary eye on him while he was apparently still listening to whatever unseen voice was talking to him. Finally, The Hulk grunted and that seemed to end whatever inner conversation he was having.

“You know me, don’t’cha?”

Woodgod nodded. “It was shortly after my birth. My parents were killed by ignorant townspeople and that resulted in my existence being discovered by the military. You and another showed up in the town of Liberty, which had been quarantined. The other was garbed in a strange costume of red and blue.”

“Yeah, I know him. Annoying li’l bug calls himself Spider-Man. Okay, so far yer story checks.”

“Can I ask why you stopped choking me to death?”

“Because a little voice told me I was making a mistake and you better thank whatever god a freak like you worships that it did ‘cause you were about four heartbeats away from goin’ up yonder. You shouldn’t have jumped Banner. He never did anything to you.”

“This Banner or you killed my friends!”

The Hulk frowned in confusion and once again he cocked his head. This time, to the other side and once again it was as if he was listening to someone speaking urgently into his ear. “Y’mean them people back at the cabin? Banner didn’t kill ‘em. When he found ‘em they were already dead. Looked like the man plugged both the woman and li’l boy in the backs of their heads when they wasn’t lookin’.”

Woodgod’s nostrils flared. His nose was packed with olfactory membranes and just by smelling the changes in a person’s body chemistry he could tell if someone were hostile, afraid or lying. Now admittedly, The Hulk’s body chemistry was radically different from anything Woodgod had ever smelled in his life but still, there was no significant change as he spoke and Woodgod decided to trust his instincts. He relaxed and said; “I believe you speak the truth.”

“Well, whoop-de-doo. You believe me. Not that there ain’t much you coulda done to me if I was lyin’.”

“I owe you…or your…alter ego my thanks, then. For burying my friends.”

“What the hell were they doin’ all the way out here anyways? And for that matter, what the hell are you doin’ here? Liberty’s back in Arizona or Nevada, ain’t it?”

Woodgod eyed The Hulk carefully. “Don’t you remember?”

“Nah. The Hulk you met then was a lot dumber. I’d still like to know what you’re doin’ here, though.”

Woodgod motioned for The Hulk to follow. “Then come with me back to my home and I’ll be happy to satisfy your curiosity.”

Felton Hardbottle had been in some pretty funky dives in his day. He’d been to Cairo, Calcutta, Tijuana and half a dozen other cities where vice and sin was normal day-to-day business. Nothing surprised him anymore. Not when it came to the depths of spiritual excrements that human beings would willingly submerge themselves into. That’s why it didn’t surprise him to find Annabel St. Cyr working in the filthiest whorehouse he’d seen in many a year. And it didn’t surprise him that when he knocked on the door, Annabel threw it open and had a huge smile on her face. Next to using her power, if there was anything Annabel enjoyed more than wallowing in sexual depravity he didn’t know what it was.

She stood there totally naked, her marvelous dusky skin radiating vitality. She was breathing heavily as if she’d just finished a good healthy run and a thin sheen of sweat slicked her splendidly shaped body. The unique mixture of her African/Vietnamese/French bloods gave her a wonderfully exotic appearance. “Felton! It’s been a long time. Want to come in and join us girls?”

Hardbottle heard giggling coming from inside and shook his head in a negative. “This is official business, Annabel. I’m here to offer you a job.”

Annabel shook her head in an emphatic negative. “Not interested. I’m having too much fun right where I am and I know that if I get hooked up with you again I’ll-”

“I know where your father is.”

Annabel visibly jumped as if a low surge of electricity went through her. “Don’t screw around with me, Felton. I like you a lot. You know that. But you screw with me about this and I’ll kill you slow.”

Hardbottle held up a pinky-sized information chip. “His location and all pertinent information is on here. You come work for me and when the job’s over, it’s yours.”

“I could take it from you right now and not have to do your dirty work.”

“Bullet’s downstairs. I’d hate to have to take him off his leash.”

Annabel grinned. “You do that and this whole city block will be gone by the time we’re done. And there’s a better than even chance one or both of us will be either dead or so busted up as to be of no use to you.”

Hardbottle shrugged. “Probably. But by then a lot of enemies you’ve made over the years will know you’re alive. And they’ll come for you. You really want to take a chance on them finding you if you’re too busted up to defend yourself?”

Annabel sucked on a tooth. “Good point. C’mon in for a minute and let’s talk some more.” There wasn’t much in the dark room. Just a table upon which rested bottles of liquor, overflowing ashtrays and an amazing variety of recreational pharmaceuticals. And there was a bed where two teenaged Asian girls lay, both of them looking pretty wasted. Annabel looked fresh as a spring Sunday morning. Her stamina was remarkable, as Hardbottle knew from personal experience. He felt sorry for the two girls. Annabel smacked one of the leg and snapped; “The both of you get dressed and get out. I need the room.”

Reluctantly the two girls hauled themselves off the bed and went around the room, picking up various items of clothing they had thrown all over the place in their careless lust. Hardbottle waited until they had gotten dressed and left before speaking again. “Friends of yours?”

Annabel had donned a purple silk bathrobe and lit up a thin black cigar that gave off a pungently sweet aroma. “You didn’t look me up to discuss my sex life. What’s the deal?”

“I’ve got a new job these days. Hunting down The Hulk for The Vice-President.”

“The Hulk? Big green guy. Kicks the U.S. Army’s ass so often he holds the world record. Laughs off any kind of weaponry you throw at him. Mean as a rabid junkyard dog. You mean that Hulk?”

“The very same. I’ve put together a team to hunt him down and I want you on it.”

“Hm. And then you tell me where my father is?”

“That’s the deal. You in or out?”

Annabel smoked in silence for perhaps a minute. “I want money.”

“I can guarantee five mil.”

“I’m in.”

Hardbottle nodded in satisfaction. “Glad to hear it. Having someone of your power along makes me feel a whole lot better.”

“You planning on killing The Hulk, Felton?”

“No. The VP wants to give The Hulk a job if you can believe that. But the last time me and The Hulk squared off it didn’t end with us on friendly terms. So I need some backup to keep him from tearing me apart before I’ve had a chance to have my say. And there’s other factors involved, as well.”

“And if we run into these ‘other factors’?”

“Kill ‘em all.”

Annabel blew out smoke and smiled contently. “I’m going to like working with you again, Felton.”

The Hulk landed with a thunderous TH-BOOM! next to Woodgod who stood at the entrance of a cave maybe two miles from the death cabin. The Hulk had leaped from clearing to clearing, keeping Woodgod in sight who simply ran through the forest with a speed that made fleet-footed deer look as if they were moving in slow motion. A large slab of gray rock covered the entrance to the cave and Woodgod, again demonstrating that surprising strength easily lifted the slab as if it were a vanilla wafer and placed to one side. The Hulk wondered just how strong this genetically engineered creature was. There weren’t many who could go toe-to-toe with him and The Hulk had to confess a grudging admiration for this Woodgod. A memory from the Banner persona of his psyche slipped into The Hulk’s consciousness and made him laugh out loud suddenly.

Woodgod turned to look at him in confusion. “Something you find humorous?”

“Just a thought. It ain’t nothin’.” The Hulk had no reason why Banner found that line so funny: “Who is that goat-legged fellow, Smithers? I like the cut of his jib.” Or where it came from it obviously inspired a great deal of hilarity from the Banner persona. The Hulk wasn’t sure how much he liked that.

The two walked into the wide opening of the cave that expanded into a larger, well-lit cavern. The Hulk’s eyes plainly registered surprise as he took in the rows and rows of gleaming machinery, computer consoles and long metal workbenches.

The Hulk indicated the cave with a sweet of a great green arm. “What’s all this about? Who tricked out this cave like this?”

“My friend David Columbo. He was also a good friend and colleague of my parents.”

“Yer parents…were they like you?”

Woodgod shook his horned head. “My parents were geneticists who created me through artificial means combining human and animal genetic materials. David Columbo assisted them during the early days of their research and some years after my parents were killed he returned to Liberty and found me living there with The Changelings.”

“An’ who are they?”

“I found my father’s records, books, notes and computers and educated myself. The hunger for knowledge became a raging burn that I fueled by stealing technical manuals and texts from libraries and research laboratories. In time, I learned enough of genetics to create a family of human/animal hybrids such as myself that are called Changelings. I established several colonies of Changelings. One is in Liberty. There is another in The Colorado Rockies. David was going to help me establish another colony here.”

The Hulk snorted. He didn’t believe a word of it. Woodgod hardly looked capable of figuring out how a toaster worked, much less comprehending advanced genetics on the level he was talking about. But he held his tongue and listened. And his pounding heartbeat gradually slowed.

Woodgod was walking back and forth, hands clasped behind his broad back. “I knew David had problems. But I thought he had found a measure of peace here. We would stay up late into the night talking about how we would educate The Changelings and make them into a better race than humanity. David was very disappointed with his own kind and the way that genetic research had been misused in the country. But I had no idea he was depressed to the extent that he would kill himself and his family.”

It occurred to Woodgod that his guest had suddenly become awfully quiet and he turned just in time to catch the naked emerald form of Bruce Banner.

His mouth was extremely dry as he slowly regained consciousness. Bruce was lying on a low cot and he felt sore all over as if somebody had been beating on him with a giant meat tenderizer. He struggled to sit up and was helped by Woodgod who appeared as if by magic. Bruce marveled at how quickly and quietly he could move on those hooves when he wanted to.

“How do you feel?” Woodgod’s concern was obviously genuine as he helped Bruce to a sitting position.

“Sore. Tired. Terribly thirsty.”

“I’m not surprised. Here.” Woodgod passed over a plastic gallon jug of water and Bruce lifted a hand to take it. And stopped. He stared at the hand and the arm attached to it as if he’d never seen either before.

The arm and hand were no longer green. It was white. Bruce looked at his other arm, his torso. True, he was still hairless but his skin had returned to its normal color. Bruce looked up at Woodgod in wonderment. “What happened to me? Did YOU-”

Woodgod smiled. “When you collapsed I examined you to make sure your vital signs were stable. While I conducted by examination I took the liberty of restoring your normal skin pigmentation.”

“How’d you know that green wasn’t my normal skin color?”

“Come now, Dr. Banner. I may have isolated myself from humanity but that does not mean I’m not aware of events in the world. Especially the many superhumans who inhabit the planet. And due to our first meeting I took a special interest in you and your alter ego. If I hadn’t been so consumed with rage at finding my friends dead I would have recognized you. I’ve certainly seen enough pictures of you to know who Dr. Robert Bruce Banner is.”

Bruce smiled through his acute embarrassment. “You’re right. And I truly apologize. I should be thanking you for your help. You’d think that I out of all people would know enough not to judge by appearance.” He held out a hand and Woodgod shook it.

“I suppose you were heading to town when I attacked you?”

“Yes I was. If you could provide me with some clothes I’d be most grateful. I have to get to Seattle as soon as possible.”

Woodgod nodded. “Why not stay the night? Rest and get your strength back. I’ll fetch fresh clothing for you from David’s cabin and in the morning I’ll show you where David’s jeep is. You can take it. I have no use for it.”

“I didn’t see a jeep.”

Woodgod grinned. “There was no reason for him to keep it near the cabin since there’s no roads there. If you don’t know where to look you’d never find the shed where he keeps it stored. I’ll show you where it is. There’s a decent goat path that will take you to the access road and you can link up to the interstate from there.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“No need, Dr. Banner. No need at all.” Woodgod did not think it prudent to inform Bruce that as far as Woodgod was concerned he had already been thanked by the DNA samples he had extracted from Bruce while he was unconscious. His overwhelming scientific curiosity wouldn’t allow Woodgod to let such an opportunity slip away and four vials of Bruce Banner’s DNA were safely locked away where Woodgod would examine them at his leisure. Woodgod’s smiled widened as he said: “Absolutely no need to thank me at all, I assure you.”

The morning sun felt damned good on Bruce Banner’s face as he turned the jeep onto the access road. He lifted a hand in farewell to Woodgod, who stood on a large boulder, haloed in the light of the rising sun. Then he turned and simply disappeared into the forest. Bruce blinked in astonishment. The leaves of the dense foliage hadn’t so much as rippled. He’d had some pretty bizarre adventures in the time since that fateful day when he had been caught in that gamma blast but the last couple of days had been right up there in the top five.

But now he had fresh clothes, a vehicle with a full tank of gas and his skin was normal, enabling him to be able to operate without restrictions. And now he would most certainly be able to find The Leader in no time at-

Bruce slowed down, peering at the road ahead of him. There was a mist ahead and while early morning mist wasn’t anything to get excited about, the fact that this mist was a deep, sinister crimson certainly was. Bruce stopped the jeep and rubbed his eyes. His vision wasn’t anything to brag about without his glasses but there was no mistaking the fact that there was a crimson mist obscuring the road ahead of him. Bruce wondered if this was the result of one of Woodgod’s experiments…but no, surely Woodgod have mentioned it to Bruce if that were the case.

As if it had been waiting patiently for him, the crimson mist hungrily extended tendrils of gossamer consistency that nonetheless wrapped around Bruce’s body like semi-transparent tentacles that seemed to possess the consistency of steel. Bruce thrashed and fought in the grip of the mist that was slowly engulfing him as if it were a living thing hungering to devour him alive. The world was vanishing in a crimson haze and Bruce’s panic did its usual job and flooded his gamma radiation saturated cells with adrenaline and the roar of The Hulk made the trees vibrate.

And then there was silence.

Only the jeep remained, its engine quietly idling and there it would stay until it ran out of gas and shut itself off. It would be found five days later by Woodgod who would then spend two whole days searching for some trace of Bruce Banner with no luck.

The crimson mist was gone and whatever it was had taken The Hulk and Bruce Banner with it.

NEXT: The Hulk AND Bruce Banner find themselves split in two and lost in a forest of hideously horrible mutations! How did this happen? Who did it to them? And more importantly, can The Hulk and Banner work together to stay alive and figure out what’s going on?