Master Bruce
Hillan
Simple Unicycle
Morden Man
Sep
As the clock crept closer to the witching hour, the Oblivion Bar found itself a hub of activity. The small dingy room was alive for the first time in years, with its patrons - demons, monsters, magicians, and fairies, all dressed in an assortment of varying styles of clothing – bunched up towards the bar or sat at scattered tables, laughing away into the night. The light of various candles, or the odd burst of sorcery, illuminated their faces in a range of colours. The barkeep, Jim Rook, was keeping busy; one second he was pouring out glasses of bourbon for a rowdy group of cultists, the next he was laughing away with some visitors from Otherworld.
One thing he kept coming back to was a discussion being held at the very middle of the bar.
Bobo T. Chimpanzee let out a chuckle as his paw moved his drinks towards his mouth. He was wearing his best blazer tonight; perfectly tailored to the primate’s slender body. It was the grand reopening after all.
Opposite him sat someone dressed significantly more worse for wear; Rory Regan, the Ragman. A mass of green draped over his body, made up of a combination of tattered fabrics and patches. A rag for every soul that the suit held.
The duo laughed together, fondly reminiscing over better days. Such a duo would garner frequent stares in most establishments, yet the Oblivion Bar was different. Here everyone was welcome.
Mostly everyone, anyway.
The door to the bar exploded into light as a figure stepped into the room. Eyes all around turned to stare widely at the source of the commotion, as a deep silence swept through the bar’s patrons. Dressed in robes of brilliant blue, the Sorcerer Supreme cast an imposing presence, only amplified by the scarlet cloak that billowed behind him, as if alive with a mind of its own. His stern eyes narrowed as they scanned the room, taking in the scared faces of everyone before him.
It was not that they disliked the man. It was more that his presence here meant something was wrong.
“Doctor Strange!” Jim announced from behind the bar, finally breaking the silence. “Can I… get you a drink?”
The Sorcerer Supreme simply ignored him, turning slightly on his heel, finally spotting what he was after. He marched forwards, his leather boots heavy on the old wooden floorboards beneath him, directly towards the oddly duo sat before the bar.
“Where is she?” His voice was demanding as his eyes pierced the ragged suit of souls before him.
Rory, sweat already forming underneath his mask, tried to hold strong.
“Where’s who?” He asked, if only to delay the inevitable.
“Don’t play dumb with me, you spineless oath.” Strange commanded, anger swelling within him now. As his brow furrowed, his face began to turn a similar shade to his cloak. “You know exactly who I mean.”
Fearing his bar was about to become an arcane battleground, Jim leant towards over the bar towards them slightly.
“Maybe it’s best if you guys dealt with this...” Jim spoke cautiously, as he motioned his head back towards the door, before being cut off as his friend raised a paw in his direction.
The chimp gave a short laugh before adjusting himself in his seat, bringing his glass towards his lips. “No way Jim, I’m not missing this one.”
Ignoring the commotion to his left, Rory began to relent to his interrogation.
“I’ve not seen her in weeks, okay? Not since you forbade her from contacting me.”
Strange simply scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Ballcrap.” He grew closed as he spoke, a fury in his eyes, and the slight spec of spittle in his teeth. “I know the two have been running around with this half-assed idea to reform Shadowpact and take on the forces of Limbo, but as of right now I'm declaring that that plan is dead”.
Rory sunk into his seat, his eyes moving down to his feet, not wishing to look Strange in the eye at this moment. All he had wanted to do was help.
Sighing, he finally gave in.
"Look, I don't know where she is now, but when I last heard from her, she was looking for answers on what to do next. So, I…” He shuffled nervously as he spoke, finally bringing himself to look back up at the Doctor. “I pointed her towards Madame Xanadu.”
The group around him reacted in unison at those words. While both Strange and Jim let out a large groan, Bobo began to laugh once more.
“That old bag?” Detective Chimp asked, still struggling to keep a straight face. “What on earth for?”
Rory shrugged hesitantly. “Thought she’d tell her something insightful about moving on.”
Doctor Strange simply frowned, running his hand through his salt and peppered hair in annoyance. Taking a deep, he seemed to become calm once again, the red of his face vanishing.
“Well, that’s a start at the very least.” He declared.
With that, he was on the move once more, stretching his arms out before him in irregular positions. He moved his right arm around clockwise, causing the air before him to spark into life as a doorway of energy carved into shape. He was about to step through and disappear before a voice stopped him.
"You know..." Rory was standing now, his confidence having finally grown. "I wasn't actually going to go to Limbo for her. The girl didn't need a war, she needed a friend. Clearly when it came down to it, that wasn't you”.
The air grew cold once more, as Doctor Stephen Strange lowered his head down in shame. Stepping through the doorway in silence, he vanished from sight.
☠
Waves crashed dangerously against the rocks at her feet, as Illyana Rasputin materialised on the stone outlet of the island. Rain fell around her, as the winds immediately began to attack from all directions. Avoiding the splashes of cold salt spray from the sea, she clutched her jacket around her body to shield from the rain. Fighting against the storm, she pushed her way up off the beach and onwards. The land around her as he moved was bleak; barren of any kind of vegetation bar the odd patch of grass or dying tree.
For a while, her only source of light was the odd flash of lightning in the sky above, which temporarily illuminated the greys of the island, before returning it once more to darkness. She had almost given up hope, when her eyes spotted the faint shape of a building in the distance, and a dim orange glow radiating from one of its windows.
Her hand moved to the protective charm around her neck. It was the only reason she had made it this far without began dragged back to the Sanctum. She finally allowed herself to smile, as it finally dawned on her that this trip may not have been made in vain.
The rain grew heavier as she moved onwards towards the building, the light guiding her. It was not long until Ilyana found herself stepping onto a path heading straight towards her destination. The opposite end seemed to slope back down towards the beach, where she imagined a small dock probably lay hidden amongst the rocks. Maybe even more buildings or settlements. She had no idea what to expect from this place.
She was so deep in thought that she missed the sounds of movement to her left.
Within seconds it was upon her. Leaping out of the darkness, the great beast snarled rabidly as it tackled her to the ground. She collided hard with the wet gravel, her arm beginning to trickle with specs of blood almost immediately as she scraped against it. She knew immediately that it was some kind of wolf. Yet the more she looked as she found herself trapped beneath it, the more she realised that wasn’t the whole story.
No natural wolf was this large. No natural wolf would look at her as this one did. This had to be a werewolf.
/cdn.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_asset/file/19783719/STL148071.jpeg)
