Manhattan, New York

SOHO

“I’ve found him.”

John Jameson shook his head rubbing his eyes trying to come awake. He had been dozing in the big recliner in the living room of the SOHO loft and now looked around in sleepy confusion wondering what was happening. The television was still on with the volume turned low. Bruce Willis was just swinging on a fire hose shooting through a blood-stained window of the Nakatomi building as explosions shattered the building above him.

Maybe the explosions, Jameson thought as he lowered the extended footrest and stood. He was still alone in the dim living space, a half-drank cold cup of coffee on the end table beside the over-sized chair. The caffeine had done little to help him stay awake through the movie he figured as he stretched out the kinks in his muscles feeling his back popping from the effort as he twisted.

“Gettin’ old,” he mumbled as he found the remote for the television and clicked it off, noting the time before the wide screen went black. It was after eleven and well past the time he should have been in bed. It was only as the glow of the television screen faded to black that he noticed the dim light on the far side of the room.

“Jimmy?” he asked though didn’t really expect an answer as he moved towards the adjoining room and the flickering source of the light. He wrinkled his nose as he drew closer and a pale cloud of wispy blue smoke billowed from the cramped room. Cigarette smoke, he thought and figured he ought to be used to it after all those years growing up in his father’s house. Another side effect of his ‘special’ condition he supposed. He ‘smelled’ things on different levels from other, normal people.

As expected he found ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent James Woo in the connecting room hard at work as he sat before his vast array of computer equipment and monitors. As always the room set Jameson on edge raising the hackles on the back of his neck. It had originally been just a simple store room in Eric Arcane’s loft; a big closet really. When Ben Grimm had recruited Jimmy Woo for his little group however, Woo had claimed the room for his own. Now it was jammed full of machinery; computer equipment mainly such as towers and external hard drives, receiver cores and transfer hubs and over a dozen monitors of various sizes constantly fluttering through a myriad of images displaying mainly news stories from around the globe. There was more than one snake-like nest of colored cables and wires hooking everything together and plugged into the many power outlets Woo had installed to set up his command center running to a huge generator in the basement. Annoying, tiny lights flicked on and off and he could hear the constant hum and whine of the cooling fans and engaging circuitry, scanners and printers always running. Worst of all to his enhanced senses however was the stench of stale cigarette smoke and the misty cloud that seemed to fill the room at all times despite the industrial strength exhaust fans that were always running as well.

Jimmy Woo was as always seated before his computers in the room. There was a cot shoved into one corner that never looked slept in and a small desk cluttered with file folders and papers with a Mr. Coffee machine set precariously on the corner looking never quite full. Woo looked as he always did dressed in a sharp black suit and shoes, white rumpled dress shirt and a slim black tie loosened about the starched collar. His raven-black hair was trimmed but looking somewhat mussed as though he had raked his fingers through it recently. His skin looked somewhat pallid for his chiseled Asian features and when he finally turned to face Jameson he saw the man’s dark, piercing eyes; cold and red-rimmed. The man’s gaze always seemed to be probing and evaluating; judging perhaps. Neither Grimm nor Woo had ever gone into detail but there were rumors of Vampirism in the man’s past, and his dealings with the mysterious Yellow Claw, all of which would account for his own enhanced senses and strength.

Jameson had never asked or pried. All of the group Grimm had gathered had their secrets including John Jameson the Man-Wolf. If James Woo wanted to share his own, Jameson figured he would.

“You’re awake.” Woo nodded as he looked back with a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips. “Good. I think I’ve found him.”

“Ben?” Jameson asked stepping fully into the cramped space tensing almost like a cornered animal as he moved beside Woo’s chair. He scanned the array of monitors and view screens finally focusing on a detailed map display of what looked to him to be New Mexico; the largest screen directly in front of Woo’s chair. He recognized some towns and city names on the fringes of the map but the image seemed focused on the desert.

“I believe so,” Woo replied as his fingers slid over the touch pad of a laptop sitting on the table before him splitting the scene in half. Jameson watched as a small arrow maneuvered across the main view screen settling on an area not far south from a small town called Floyd on the edge of the waste of America’s Southwest Desert; the Chihuahuan. With the press of a button the other image enhanced.

“As you know I’ve been looking for Grimm since he appeared in Seattle; tracking the strange radiations he and his comrades seem to be saturated with because of the Cosmic Rays they encountered in the initial space flight, which altered their bodies and gave them their unique powers and abilities.” Woo exhaled a cloud of blue smoke as he enhanced the central image a bit more. “I’ve intercepted the S.H.I.E.L.D. missives concerning that despite the media blackout enveloping the Seattle area since the devastation resulting from the Hulk’s rampage some weeks ago. Apparently SHIELD’s Sci-Tech division had the same idea as I.

“Fury was present in Seattle along with General Thaddeus Ross and other members of the President’s special Council on Para-normal Activities and the Thing apparently encountered several Guardsmen along with Captain Marvel. That encounter resulted as one might expect. The important information to note however is that Grimm seemed to be allied with Doctor Doom.”

“Doom? What the hell –” Jameson caught himself before he flew into a flurry of expletives. Growing up in his father’s house he was certainly no stranger to foul language. J. Jonah Jameson was a master at turning a colorful phrase being the owner and editor of the Daily Bugle – a high-pressured job indeed – and John Jameson had picked up a few choice words and phrases but his own stint in the Air Force and as an astronaut had taught him to exercise a bit more self-discipline than his father. But the prospect of the Thing being allied with Doctor Doom… it was almost too much to believe. Doctor Doom had been Ben Grimm and the Fantastic Four’s main antagonist for years.

John Jameson saw the slightest curl of Jimmy Woo’s lip before the older man turned back to his keyboard. Woo was a stoic man at best and rarely spoke unless he truly had something important to say. That slight smirk was almost an emotional explosion for the other man.

“I had the same reaction,” Woo confessed as his fingers flew across the keys typing. “Doctor Doom and the Thing would seem strange bedfellows, but the S.H.I.E.L.D. video feeds I intercepted from Seattle tell the true tale. Perhaps there is more to Grimm’s motives concerning the Scarlet Centurion, and maybe Doom learned of some ulterior threat. Victor Von Doom has always sought ultimate power and control though his schemes were often tempered by his hatred of Reed Richards. Whatever threat this Scarlet Centurion poses may interfere with his own goals in that regard and his own purpose coincides with Grimm’s.”

“I suppose that’s a possibility,” Jameson had to agree. From what Eric Arcane, Colleen Wing and Misty Knight had explained after their adventures in the Dark Dimension and Europe it seemed the Scarlet Centurion had been playing Ben Grimm all along. There was some threat Jameson was certain, but what it might be was beyond him. Cosmic beings and their manipulations were not his forte’, something better left to the Avengers and the Fantastic Four. “But, you said you found him?”

“Yes.” Woo leaned back in his chair and chained another cigarette, stubbing out the old, spent butt in the overflowing ash tray set to the side. Jameson leaned in at his side trying to ignore the smell and stared at the main monitor Woo seemed to be focused on.

It took a moment but Jameson realized he was looking at a live scene not unlike images he had seen displayed on Google Earth and in the Air Force. It was different however; the image sharper and closer, more detailed and the feed seemed to refresh far quicker than the display Google offered to the general public. He saw the scrolling encoding data at the top corner of the screen and realized Woo had hacked into the view of some military satellite, which was far more advanced than its Google counterpart.

He recognized some type of strange craft in the image. It was huge and probably some sort of transport by the design and surrounded by smaller, human-like images though another screen monitoring Infra Red and Ultraviolet at least showed a minimal heat signature. He suspected those signatures were Doom’s mechanoid troops; his Doom Bots. Doctor Doom was probably the second smartest man on the planet after Reed Richards and Jameson knew he would easily cloak his minions as well as himself against electronic intrusion. But it was the other signatures on screen that caught Jameson’s attention.

One was large, tinted orange with a wavering aura of bluish-gray about it. Jameson assumed that tone was the cosmic energies Woo had been tracking the Thing with. That had to be Grimm. There was another unmoving, which was probably human but alive with some dog-shaped image hovering about it. Jameson had no idea what that might be, but the human form was alive and unconscious apparently. It was the last figure however Jameson’s gaze riveted on.

“Is that…” Jameson said pointing at the huge fluctuating verdant signature on the screen.

“Yes, I believe so.” Woo exhaled a cloud of smoke as he spoke. “The signature seems saturated with Gamma radiation. Probability suggests it must be the Hulk.”

“Good lord,” Jameson whispered even as he saw the two forms merge, obviously in battle. He saw the Thing receive a savage blow tumbling him back across the desert landscape. Grimm was still for a moment then slowly started to rise as the Hulk surged forward again. “We have to do something! Ben needs help!”

“I doubt there’s anything we could do.” Woo shrugged. “Even if we had access to a craft that would get us there in moments that battle is far beyond our league. It’s a clash of titans and we could never get to New Mexico in time to make a difference.”

Jameson hated to admit that in this case Woo was right. It frustrated him though. He felt so helpless simply watching. And he knew there was no way Ben Grimm could defeat the Hulk. Not this savage monster that had devastated Seattle.

“Yes we can.”

Jameson and Woo both turned at the sound of the new voice and saw Eric Arcane standing in the doorway of the small room. The Hedge Mage looked refreshed, almost back to normal after his time with the Daughters of the Dragon spent in Europe and the Dark Dimension battling first Captain Britain and the Celestial mastermind Fu Man Chu and then the Vampire Lord, Dracula and his minions alongside Misty Knight and Midnight. His dark skin had returned to a somewhat normal tone and he was wearing his trademark tattered, many-pocketed trenchcoat no doubt laden with mystical fetishes; the tools of his trade gathered over the years. His dark eyes roved over the many monitors as he took a long draw from his own cigarette, finally settling his gaze on the pair.

“Never say never again, Mister Bond.” Arcane smirked. “It’ll hurt, but I can get us there.” Arcane dropped his spent butt on the floor and crushed it out under the toe of his boot.

“Trust me.”

ROUND TWO

By Curtis Fernlund (With Thanks to Derrick Ferguson)

America’s Southwest Desert;

The Chihuahuan

New Mexico

Ben Grimm shook his head trying to clear the sudden fog clouding his senses and stop the ringing in his ears. He struggled to rise making already weak, muscles strain to hoist his bulk and get back on his feet. He was aching from one punch but knew what was coming. He had known all along that it would come to this – a fight was inevitable – but he hadn’t counted on just how strong and savage the Incredible Hulk had become.

His mind flashed back to the news reports he had seen of the Jade Giant’s current condition over the past few weeks, things he had done from lop-sided skirmishes with the military and S.H.I.E.L.D. to his bestial rampage through the city of Seattle, which had left so many dead and injured and left the city itself almost a shattered wasteland. Grimm had fought the Hulk too many times over the years and seen the creature in many incarnations, all formidable; the simple-minded brute mostly that just wanted to be left alone, the arrogant, smart, gray gangster of Las Vegas, and even an intelligent Hulk with Bruce Banner’s mind dominant.

And that was the bottom-line problem. Somewhere lost in the myriad, mangled, Jekyll and Hyde psyche of the now savage monster was the essence of a good, tortured man, even a friend; Doctor Robert Bruce Banner. Grimm – Hell the whole world – knew the tale of the brilliant scientist caught in the first Gamma Bomb explosion while trying to save the young Rick Jones and the years of torment that followed. The transformed Banner as the Hulk had been hounded and hunted by the military, beaten and imprisoned by heroes and villains alike, rarely getting a moment’s peace. Ben Grimm, often considered a monster in his own right knew the feeling all too well. But he had been lucky with an adopted family that loved him he knew, despite his own simmering anger over his condition that quite often boiled to the surface.

There but for the grace of God go I, he thought as he finally struggled to his feet. He shook his head again, rubbing his eyes against the swirling cloud of dust and grit still lingering in the air from the Hulk’s impact on arrival. He squinted against the sand storm looking for his allies while trying to keep the shadowy form of the behemoth in sight.

Finally he saw the wolf. Lobo, the huge auburn-furred companion of his old friend and fellow Avenger, Red Wolf, stood protectively over the fallen American Indian. William Talltrees had arrived at the bequest of his own God, Owayodata, while Grimm and Doom had been searching for the Hulk in one of the many hidden makeshift laboratories of Bruce Banner scattered about the American southwest desert. Talltrees had said the Hulk was under the protection of his god and that the brute was a ‘Force of Nature’. Ben could see that, but it was way too metaphysical for him to wrap his mind completely around. Whatever, Red Wolf had wanted to help and had actually led them to the Hulk, but when the monster had realized they were there the Hulk naturally attacked. Unfortunately Talltrees proved no match for the sheer brute force of the behemoth and now lay unconscious in a small outcropping of rocks under the watchful eye of his lupine companion, Lobo.

Figger he’s safe fer the moment, Grimm thought as he saw the Hulk surging his direction. Even through the cloying, drifting grit the Thing could see that the behemoth appeared larger than he had ever seen him before. Grimm saw new muscle on the gargantuan body and could hear the guttural rage of snarls and growls, animalistic howls as the Hulk emerged from the thinning cloud spotting his prey. Ben Grimm saw no recognition in his once-friend’s eyes only a savage, animalistic fury of a beast hunted and cornered, ready to fight for his freedom. His very life.

“Fuck me,” Grimm whispered as he lumbered forward to meet the monster. Doctor Doom had said he had a plan just like Reed Richards always did. Unfortunately Doom’s plans usually ended in defeat, and of course the good Doctor had disappeared at least for the moment. Grimm had to figure Doom would come through in the end, but for now that left the Thing alone to battle the Hulk, or at least keep him busy.

“Wunnerful, wunnerful…” Ben mumbled then shouted:

“It’s Clobberin’ Time!”

Rage seethed in his head swirling wildly and overwhelming. Sight narrowed and focused; a dark cloudy vision centered on the rock-thing that stood up again before him threatening and growling at him in its gravel-grinding voice.

Monster!

The word roiled in the Hulk’s mind.

Threat!

The rock-man wanted something the Hulk knew. He could sense it.

His food… Den… Home.

Like all the others. The other men. Soft men.

Ross!

“NO!” the Hulk bellowed in his own menacing voice. A snarl of possession and dominance that should have sent the rock-thing cowering away. But it stood waiting. Waiting to fight for the land… the territory and domain.

Hulk’s home.

“NO!” The Hulk shrieked again as he charged forward to meet the threat; to drive him away. “Leave me alone!” he bellowed but the rock-monster just stood there waiting for the attack. To defend, Hulk knew.

Defend the Home…

The rock-thing’s arms came up at the last moment as the Hulk slammed into him.

Strong!

Solid!

Like a rock!

But the Hulk could smash rocks. Easy. Break them.

Break the rock-monster…

The Hulk stayed on the creature hammering his mighty fists into the stony orange hide. Chips flew from his blows of anger and hate; Hate of those that came to invade his peace.

Men with guns

Stupid magician

Flying girl

Others

They all kept coming

“Leave Hulk alone!”

The rock-monster staggered back.

It hit Hulk.

Pain…

The Hulk screeched as hatred and anger boiled up. Madness in his anger as his rage spewed forth, his fists hammering down. Smashing!

Hulk SMASH!

The rock-thing flew back as green fists smashed hard.

Tumbling.

Rolling.

Still…

The Hulk’s massive chest heaved as he breathed deeply in the hot, bright sunlight. His eyes narrowed ferociously as he watched seeking signs of life. Had Hulk won? Won at last?

Movement!

The rock-thing moved. Getting up.

Rock-Thing?

Some spark deep within seemed to kindle for just a moment. A memory; friendship once upon a time?

The thought vanished just as quickly as it came as the thing talked again..

Taunting.

Beckoning.

Threatening…

The Hulk bellowed his frustration as the thing would not leave.

Would not fall down.

Would not sleep.

Would not die!

The Incredible Hulk roiled forward to defend his territory…

His Home!

Ben Grimm shook his head and spat staring bleary eyed at the faint tinge of red in his saliva as it quickly evaporated into the hard-baked desert soil. It had been awhile since he had been hit so hard and he had forgotten just how powerful the Incredible Hulk could actually become. Captain Marvel was no slouch in the strength department but Ben could sense in their recent, brief battle in Seattle Carol Danvers was holding back just a bit for old time’s sake. The Hulk however had no such hesitation.

“The madder he gets the stronger he gets,” Grimm whispered to himself as he struggled back to his feet. “Well, yer pretty mad now, ain’t ‘cha, Green-skin?”.  Grimm chuckled as he heard the Hulk’s roar of rage as if in answer.

Grimm took a quick look around as he gathered his wits. He could tell the Hulk was sizing him up; maybe remembering their past encounters over the years, but more likely simply estimating his latest threat. Ben was hoping Doctor Doom would pop up with some wacky gizmo to put a stop to this before it got out of hand. No such luck though. He saw Doom’s transport ship off in the distance, a dozen or so Doom-bots scurrying around like crazy but no sign of the good Doctor himself. “Figgers…”

He did spot Lobo standing guard over the fallen Red Wolf just a few yards away. Ben had tucked the unconscious American Indian Avenger into a small outcropping of rocks for his own safety, knowing just how violent and devastating a one-on-one battle with the Hulk could become. The huge wolf was watching; suspicious and ready to attack or defend if the stupid humans brought their fight too close to his best friend and master.

“Good dog,” Grimm mumbled as he charged forward. The Hulk had gotten in the first few blows and won the first volley but Benjamin J. Grimm was not one to lie down and take it. He held no illusions that the Hulk was stronger than the Thing, but Grimm was far more skilled as a scrapper. His years growing up rumbling with the Yancy Street crowd and his stint in the Army, not to mention his years in the Fantastic Four and the Avengers and even the Unlimited Wrestling community had taught him a few tricks. Sure he might lose in the end, but he’d go down fighting.

The Hulk stood his ground though as Ben ran towards him. The behemoth snarled and raged finally surging forward. Ben gritted his teeth and drew back a huge, rocky fist as the Hulk swung a wide, arching blow. Grimm felt the wind as the Hulk’s own fist passed perilously close to his face.  He side-stepped and swiftly drove a knuckled punch into the brute’s ribs. He heard a grunt for his efforts but doubted he had done any real damage. He ran on even as the Hulk bellowed, more from anger than pain he was sure.

The Thing spun to press his advantage; being behind the behemoth. He hammered a blow into the Hulk’s kidney, pleased with the howling result. The giant was quick to recover though and was swift to sweep his arm back. Ben tried to dodge again but the Hulk’s reach was too long and he had learned long ago that huge did not mean slow. The Hulk’s gargantuan fist caught him in the side of the face, the force of the hit cranking his head to the side with a snap and staggering his bulk back. He saw stars and heard Looney Tune ‘bells and whistles’ going off as he stumbled back, some how managing to stay on his feet.

The Savage Hulk turned and hunkered screaming his rage at the top of his lungs. Ben could see veins bulging on the massive form as he flexed his might showing his dominance. There was a blood lust in the behemoth’s eyes now that Grimm had never seen before; a primal savagery of a cornered animal ready to fight for his very life and freedom.

Ben took a deep breath as he gathered his own wits. He doubted then and there that he was going to win this fight. But he’d be damned if he was going to just lie down and die. There was a little thing called pride at stake, and Aunt Petunia’s favorite nephew had never backed down from a scrap in his life. Ben Grimm hunkered down as well slamming his rocky fist into the palm of his hand.

“Okay, Chuckles,” he taunted, “Ya wanna do this? Bring it!”

With a howl, the Rampaging Hulk obliged…

DIE!

The Rampaging Hulk slammed the massive stone down onto the rock-thing with all his might. The desert floor shuddered with the impact and the brute staggered back heaving with the effort of breaking away the stony massif, hefting it and slamming it down upon his foe.

He raged in confidence of his victory. The predator had to be dead. Home defended as the booming echo faded and the ground ceased to tremble. All was still as the Hulk breathed deeply the rage still brimming.

Rocks.

Rocks to bury the thing.

Boulders flew at his slightest effort. Rock shattered at his blows crumbling upon the rock-thing to bury him from sight.

Make him go away.

Leave.

Die.

And when the Hulk’s fury subsided the intruder was.

Gone.

Pile of rock where he had been. Stupid rock-thing. Hulk smash.

The Hulk turned away.

But – 

What was that?

Hulk turned back eyes narrowed as he watched the burial mound.

There.

There!

In the dust pebbles shifted at first rolling down. Stones and rocks bounced away as the pile shuddered and fell. A massive orange hand thrust from the debris, pushing it off and away; digging out and scratching at the dirt.

The thing crawled forward out of the rubble, shaking it off.

Hulk saw blood.

Smelled blood…

The intruder said something again and the rage returned…

Manhattan, New York

SOHO

“Well, that should do it.”

Eric Arcane stood up and stepped back from the strange mystical circle he had sketched out on the floor of his room in the SOHO loft. The Hedge Mage lit a cigarette as John Jameson leaned in staring at the weird, archaic letters and sigils all arranged and drawn in meticulous manner placed just so in a reddish chalk that smelled faintly of blood. Just what that actually was Jameson didn’t really want to know.

“You sure this will work?” Jameson asked as he glanced at the mage. Arcane puffed on his cigarette and shrugged.

“Always has before,” he assured as James Woo stepped up and eyed the mystical symbol. Jameson thought Woo seemed his normal, stoic self as he inspected the sigil. His own cigarette dangled from his lips as he tightened his tie.

“I’m hardly an authority,” Woo offered, “but I’ve dealt with magic over the years. I’ve always considered it just a strange science I had yet to understand. That said, it seems sound to me.”

Well, if Jimmy Woo was satisfied that was pretty much the gold seal of approval. “Fine. What do we have to do?” Jameson felt the hackles starting to rise on the back of his neck as Arcane rolled up his sleeves.

“Nothin’ much. I’m doin’ all the work. You two just step into the circle and I’ll take care of the rest.” Eric Arcane drew deeply on his cigarette bringing the bud to a bright red glow. “I won’t lie. It’s gonna hurt.”

“How much?”

“Me… Sorry. If I was Doctor Strange I’d just wave my hands around a bit and we’d be there. My magic doesn’t work that way. Sometimes I need props,” Arcane gestured at the circle, “and a little sacrifice.”

“Well, that sounds nasty.”

All eyes turned towards the doorway at the sound of the new voice. Even Woo seemed astounded at the sight of Jim Scully; Skull the Slayer stepping through the doorway and shaking rain from his long coat. Jameson thought he looked haggard and worn as he dropped the coat across a chair and stepped closer to the group eyeing the arcane circle on the floor. He was dressed in his usual battle gear; dark pants and boots and bare-chested but for the strange alien device he had donned in the queer ‘Land that Time Forgot’, which he had been stranded in for years; a glowing belt with a shoulder harness that granted the man near invulnerability and heightened strength and stamina. He wasn’t quite in the Thing’s class strength-wise, but he could definitely hold his own in a fight.

“Scully!” Jameson exclaimed. He had thought Jim Scully had left the group for good. He had been gone for weeks and left little mention as to where he was going other than to allude that he had ‘personal’ business to attend to down south and didn’t want any help. By the look of the man he had survived whatever it was, but he didn’t look like he had fared well. “Where have you been? We were worried.”

Scully waved Jameson’s concerns aside with a tight smile. “Thanks, but it’s not worth gettin’ into right now. It all worked out, sort’a. I’ll clue you all in later. But what’s goin’ on here? Plannin’ a little day trip?”

Jameson gave the man a quick run-down as to the current situation and at the end Scully simply shook his head and smiled. “Never easy is it? Looks like you could use a fourth for Bridge though, hunh?”

“Happy to have you, Scully.”

“All right, let’s get this show on the road.” Arcane directed the others to their places around the circular sigil as he stepped to the northern position on the compass. He was breathing deep as he suggested the others do the same trying to cleanse their minds and bodies for the ordeal to come. Arcane held up his fore arm then and Jameson got a good look at it; scarred with dozens of cuts and burn marks. John Jameson shuddered slightly as he considered just what the man went through for the performance of his particular art.

“Here we go,” Arcane grimaced as he jammed the smoldering butt of his cigarette into his arm. Jameson immediately smelled burning flesh as the mage whispered:

<Lacus!>

And the SOHO loft slowly faded away…

America’s Southwest Desert;

The Chihuahuan

New Mexico

Ben Grimm grimaced as he saw another stain of blood on the desert floor. It was his of course and he could feel the pain in his body from the impact of the blow that had done that to him; what few had ever done before. Reed Richards had often explained how Ben’s body was structured differently now. His skin acted as armor so to speak; once something akin to a dinosaur’s hide slowly evolving into his current form – with a few deviations along the way thanks to Diablo and others whose names couldn’t come to mind with the ringing in his ears.

He shook his head again to try to focus on the task at hand and the rampaging Hulk who was stalking towards him again. Grimm raised his hands to stay the brute off – just for a moment so he could catch his breath – but the Jade Giant just snarled and raged as its bulk heaved forward.

Grimm wiped his hand across his mouth and spat red. No doubt about it; one of the Hulk’s blows had hurt him – hurt him bad – maybe internally. He was aching and the behemoth looked as fresh as the proverbial daisy. Grimm huffed feeling a tightness in his ribs. He’d been hit hard by some of the baddest bad-asses in the Marvel’s Universe:

The Super-Skrull

The Sentry Sinister

Terrax

The Hulk himself.

But never like this…

“This ain’t good, Bruce,” he coughed feeling a burn in his throat. But where Grimm expected a snarl he got a pause. He looked up and saw the Hulk standing just a few yards away, his head cocked to one side as though considering. And that was it.

Ben Grimm knew the problem right then. Always when he had faced the Hulk in the past Bruce Banner was somewhere deep in the monster’s psyche holding him back; restraining the creature from his ultimate rage and violence, some temper of control. But Banner was gone, submerged and lost in the persona of the rampaging Hulk now and the beast he had always held at bay – no matter how slightly – now had free reign and total control. He was a beast.

A monster

An animal…

“A force of nature.”

Grimm looked up and saw the Red Wolf standing back and away in the shelter of the nearby rocks. William Talltrees stood shakily leaning on his medicine staff as the huge wolf, Lobo, sat protectively at his feet with yellow eyes bright and watching. The wolf was ready to fight for his friend just as Red Wolf was ready to fight for Grimm, but the man looked hurt and on edge and Grimm had seen that the Hulk far exceeded anything that the Indian Shaman had ever faced before.

“The Hulk is a Force of Nature as I said before,” Talltrees continued, “a beast who is one with the wilds. And he is in his element here; the land that spawned him.”

Ben rolled his eyes. The only thing he hated worse than Richards’ scientific explanations in the middle of a good fight was guys like Doc Strange giving their spin when science wouldn’t cover it. It was all ‘yadda-yadda’ to him. Just hit the target till it stopped moving. It worked in the Army and it still held true today.

“Bruce Banner is gone,” Red Wolf continued. “I sense nothing of his essence within the brute, and Owayodata has claimed what remains to battle the evil that comes.”

“I dunno nothin’ about that,” Grimm grumbled shuddering as he stood again ready to face the next onslaught. “Banner’s in there somewhere. He always is. He just gave up somewhere along the line. We gotta find him.” And as if in response the rampaging, bestial Hulk bellowed his rage again.

And the ground between them exploded in a fury wrought of force and deafening noise. The desert floor churned and heaved as Repulsor Rays slammed into the dirt as though drawing a line.

Twin beams of heat and energy seared into the Jade Giant’s flesh making him scream.

Lightning erupted and flashed burning the landscape.

And when his vision cleared of the dazzling lights and flickering after-images Ben Grimm looked up with his heart suddenly in his throat. Things had just gotten worse.

“Grimm! Hulk!” a metallic voice boomed. “By the power vested in me by the President of the United States and the United Nations, for crimes against city, state and humanity too countless to list, you are both under arrest! I’d suggest you surrender.”

Grimm sighed and shook his head.

The Avengers had arrived.

“Aw, crap…”

NEXT ISSUE:

Round Three of the big Hulk/Thing rematch as the Mighty Avengers join the Battle Royale. Expect an all-out slug-fest as we gear up for the BIG Finale, many years in the making. Head over next to Avengers #47 for the next part as things heat up and hopefully some nagging questions get answered.

No promises though…

***

And now a word from our sponsor…

Curt here. As I mentioned above, Special Thanks go out to Derrick Ferguson for giving this issue a read as well as his input and suggestions. I wanted Derrick involved from the get-go as a follow-up to our acclaimed original Hulk/Thing fight way back in Fantastic Four #13 (2006 – I had to look it up) and so very glad to have him aboard. Some quick words from him…

“Y’know what I really liked about THING #13? You didn’t just make this the usual knock-down, drag-out slug fest a Thing/Hulk fight usually is. Your insights into the psyche of The Hulk and how he was perceiving the fight was both unusual and intriguing. I know that for me when I was writing The Hulk, I always relished the opportunity to get inside the mind of The Hulk/Bruce Banner and explore the workings of his mind.

And just as good was your reminding readers that Ben Grimm has considerable experience as a fighter. Which for me always made the difference in their past fights. Yes, The Hulk is stronger but he doesn’t know how to fight. Although to be honest, when you’re that strong you really don’t have to know how to fight. But the point is that Ben is more strategic in a fight. He thinks in a fight and his constantly evaluating his opponent and adjusting his own tactics accordingly.

Good job, man. I liked it. Now go away while I read your AVENGERS.”

And I suggest you do the same, Faithful Reader!

Go!

Read!

Respond!

Enjoy!

And Thanks again, Derrick

Curt F (01-28-2020)