Still Cleveland.

“Oh that doesn’t sound good.” Howard turned from the bars and looked around the cell. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Tell us something we don’t know, Duck,” Garko grumbled. The giant man-frog squatted in his own cell and glared at Howard. “I have an appointment to wring that feathered neck of yours-”

“Quiet, both of you,” the White Rabbit snapped. She had hauled herself up close to the ceiling of the cell she shared with Howard and had her face pressed to the bars. “Someone is coming! Freedom, perchance, is at hand-”

“Freedom indeed,” said a dark voice. A shape seemed to congeal out of the shadows, pale fingers wrapped around the bars. The White Rabbit squeaked and hopped backwards. “Of a sort, anyway,” the fat, pale man continued. He was a bloated thing, an archaic and frayed waistcoat straining against his bulk. His suit was shiny in the places it wasn’t coated in filth. He smacked cherubic lips, revealing glistening fangs. “Allow me to introduce myself…Archimedes, of the Varnaeic Canticle.”

“Vampire,” Howard said, raising his fists. Archimedes stared at him for a moment, as if trying to fit the presence of a talking duck into his personal reality.

“Yes, but you say that as if it’s a bad thing,” he said finally.

“I care not what he is, if he has the power to free Garko!” Garko croaked, slamming against the bars of his cell. Archimedes blinked.

“Oh my-”

“Free me fat one, or face Garko’s wrath!” Garko stretched out a claw and swiped half-heartedly at the vampire.

“A giant frog, a talking duck and…” Archimedes floated closer to Howard’s cell, staring salaciously at the White Rabbit. “The Easter Bunny, yes?”

“Sirrah, surely you recognize the chancellor of the crime-college, the dean of devastation, the mistress of mayhem-” the White Rabbit began, twirling about. Archimedes frowned.

“No, I cannot honestly say that I do. Still, it is of no matter, as we shall have all eternity to get to know one another, my sweet…” Archimedes said as he passed through the bars, his form having no more substance than smoke. He reached out with a fish-belly pale hand. The White Rabbit danced away, wagging a finger.

“Ah-ah, dear sir. This rabbit digs no burrow,” she said, sliding behind Howard. Archimedes smiled and floated closer.

“We shall see.”

“No, we won’t,” Howard said. “I’ve taken on uglier blood-bags than you-”

Archimedes swept forward, one paw hauling Howard into the air, the other preparing to dig itself into his soft belly.

“-but I could be wrong. Little help?”

“Release that fowl! His life is Garko’s!” Garko shook the bars that separated the two cells. “I demand-”

“You demand nothing, freak!” Archimedes spat, flinging Howard towards the bars. “I care not a jot for either of you!” He swung ponderously back towards the White Rabbit. “But you-”

“Would you like to see my lucky rabbit’s foot?” the White Rabbit bounded forward, one stiletto heel held in her slim hand. Squeezing the toe, she released a slender blade from the heel and with a hyperactive spasm, swung the blade down and buried it in Archimedes’ head. The vampire gurgled and clutched at the shoe, his red eyes rolling in their sockets. The White Rabbit climbed his belly, crouching on his sternum as he reeled. Bracing herself she pulled the shoe loose, the blade trailing black slime.

“I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date! I simply must dash, you see, rash though it may be! And our time, cut short, simply must be, tee-hee!”

The shoe went down again, through one of Archimedes’ eyes this time. The vampire screeched, clawing at the villainess. He grabbed her by her waistcoat and hurled her aside. She hit the floor and bounced to her feet, charging towards the vampire. She hit him with her shoulder, driving him backwards.

Howard rolled aside, hands over his head. “Garko! Get him!”

“I-what?” the man-frog grunted. Howard looked up at him.

“Do it!”

“Don’t yell at me, fowl!” Garko roared, his webbed paw shooting forward to snag Archimedes. He hauled the vampire backwards, slamming him against the bars. Archimedes hissed like a kettle on the boil and clawed blindly at the rubbery limbs that held him. Howard popped to his feet and snatched the shoe from where it was lodged in Archimedes’ eye socket. He pulled it free and slammed it home in the rotund creature’s breast. The vampire arched, squalled, and fell to dust and ashes. Howard stepped back and tossed the shoe to the White Rabbit.

“Silver?” he said. She gave a laugh.

“Expensive tastes have always been my salvation.”

“Ours too, apparently.” Howard scuffed Archimedes’ remains with his foot and looked at Garko. “How strong are you?”

“Strong enough to rend you-”

“Can it! We need to get out of here before his buddies come looking for him. And you’re our ticket,” Howard said. Garko fixed him with a beady eye.

“And what do I get out of it?”

“I won’t turn you back into regular frog.”

“HA! You can do no such-” Garko began, laughing. Howard cocked his head.

“Yeah? I did it once though, right?”

“You-” Garko stepped back. “I mean-”

“Think it through. Don’t take too long though,” Howard said. “Where there’s one vampire, there’s dozens.”

---

The Dark Dimension?

Aquarian covered his eyes as the elemental fury of cosmic fire washed over his null-field and liquefied the rock around him. Dozens of Mindless Ones fell, burnt to useless husks.

“Ooops,” Dormammu said. Or not, as the case may be. Aquarian dropped his hands and looked up.

“What?”

“Honestly, it is like they are suicidal.”

The being glowed a pungent blue, his purplish garb reeking of netherspaces. A thick, fiery tail curled around his legs and his skull was a bobbing flame that stank of methane. He hung in space above Aquarian, head cocked. He gesticulated.

“Like moths to an ebon flame, they just wander in the path of onrushing doom. Quite annoying, really.”

“Yes?” Aquarian said, nonplussed. He looked down at the Star of Capistan. It lay mute on the ground.

“You look frightened,” the creature said. “Wise, in the face of the obscenity that is Dread Rorkannu, Lord of the Dank Dimension.”

“That would be you, I assume?”

“Quite,” Rorkannu said.

“Dank Dimension?”

“Can’t you smell it?”

Dank, Dim, Dark, all the same really. I mean, who can honestly tell the difference? My GPS was off. Count your blessings.

“Your rock is speaking,” Rorkannu said. “Rocks do not speak in the demesne of Dread Rorkannu, Lord of All He Doth Perceive. Not unless spoken to.”

All caps. He speaks in all caps.

“Quiet, please,” Aquarian said. Behind him, the remaining Mindless Ones were gathering . “We apologize for having offended-”

Who’s we?

“Your talking rock continues to offend Rorkannu.”

“It offends everyone,” Aquarian said.

Rorkannu more easily than most. The flames surrounding Rorkannu’s head grew brighter.

“SILENCE!”

Or what? You’ll fry some more Mindless Ones? I thought Faltines had better aim…guess you’re the faulty Faltine, hunh?

“Faulty? FAULTY?”

Rorkannu’s head flared. Aquarian whirled, glaring at the Star where it lay on the ground. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

Please. You can take him. Howard could take him. Especially if you pick me up-

“No!” Aquarian looked up at Rorkannu. “We will gladly leave-”

“Yes. Yes you will! You and your insulting rock!” Rorkannu said, gesturing. Rank flames exploded and Aquarian shuddered as they swarmed over his field. Behind him, the Mindless Ones charged forward, as if the curling flames had been a signal. Aquarian flinched as his shield began to crumple beneath the assault.

Born on another world, his power was so far incalculable. Reed Richards, Project: PEGASUS, Hydra, none of them had been able to pinpoint its source or its limits. Aquarian himself, with the naiveté of a child, had believed that that was because there was none.

He was wrong, of course. Granted, he’s as strong as the proverbial super-horse, but everyone has their limits. That point of no return. I live on the point of no return, though. I know how to get there real quick.

Hear me, Aquarian?

Silly me. You’re too busy dying.

Rorkannu grasped the field and ripped it asunder with metaphysical muscle. Aquarian screamed and staggered. The Mindless Ones fell on him. He sank beneath inhuman fists. He lashed out desperately, wildly.

Perfectly.

---

The Crooked House.

“Ow,” the Strawberry Man said, fingering the hole in his head. Beverly Switzer blinked. Then she shot him again. And again.

The creature staggered as each bullet punched into him, but he didn’t fall. Bev gritted her teeth and prepared to pull the trigger again. A hand flashed out and slapped the gun aside. Cherry eyes flashed as the other hand fastened on Bev’s throat. She smelled strawberries and cream.

“Spiteful spiffy spitfire,” the Strawberry Man said. Bev clawed at his hand, dancer-foot lashing up in an instinctive kick.

“Whoop,” the Strawberry Man said, releasing her, stumbling back. Bev pivoted, her other foot crashing across his lowered face. The Strawberry Man spun and tumbled out the door. Bev slammed it shut and pressed her back to it, breathing hard.

“Oh, this is bad. Bad to the bone.” She closed her eyes, listening. Waiting.

Nothing.

“’kay,” she said, stepping away from the door. “Okay. Cool. I can handle this. Modern woman am I. Yeah.” She popped the cylinder on the pistol and eyed its brass guts. It purred softly as she counted the remaining shells and prayed that it would birth more before the Strawberry Man came back. She swallowed. Looked around.

“Doc?”

Silence.

“Damn.” She took a breath, snapped the pistol shut, and said again, “Doc?”

Nothing.

“Well hell.”

Crimson light exploded and the room turned pale pink, then boiled red as the light became something else. Many somethings. A veritable deluge of smoking, smoldering, flailing forms. A thick arm swung at her. Bev stepped back and fired. Something burst from the light, a clawing azure hand that fastened around her throat and bore her backwards against the door with a tooth-rattling thump.

“Insolent woman! None-except his mother-may strike RORKANNU!”

---

Cleveland.

Hoofbeats sounded on the cold cement floor. Clop, clop, clop.

Howard, now freed, dragged a match across the wall and lit a stogie. “Anyone else hear that?”

“Sounds like…hooves?” Garko grumbled. The White Rabbit clapped her hands together.

“Perhaps it’s the mock-turtle come to visit!”

The door to the cellbock smashed to the floor, followed by the tumbling bodies of half a dozen vampires that hit the ground and exploded into dust and through that dust came one distinctly bovine shape. Howard gaped as the cloaked form reared up, hooves cutting sparks through the air.

“Oh f@*k!”

“MOOO!” the Hellcow’s blood-shot eyes fastened on the foul-mouthed fowl and a flash of recognition flared. She bared hideous fangs and stalked forward on four murderous hooves, cape snapping, horns gleaming.

Clop.

Clop.

Clop.

“A vampire-” Garko began.

“Cow?” the White Rabbit finished. Both looked at Howard.

“Hellcow,” Howard whispered. “Perfect.”

“Really?” the White Rabbit said.

“No.”

“Bah! A bovine blood-sucker does not frighten Garko! Garko will have his freedom!” Garko bellowed, bounding forward, arms wide, teeth bared. “Garko will have steak!”

At the word ‘steak’, the Hellcow’s eyes narrowed and with a snarl, she lowered her head and charged towards the oncoming amphibian. Howard grabbed the White Rabbit and hauled her backwards as the two terrible titans met in the center of the cramped hallway with a thunderous sound!

---

Twelve feet away, give or take six inches.

Detective Shaun Tompkins drowned in his own blood, useless hands pawing ineffectually at his throat. He was dying-was dead-but not quite finished. And thus, perfect.

I’m sorry, Doctor Stephen Strange whispered through ghostly lips. But this has to be done. His astral form took in the carnage in the police station with a twitch of sorrow-Dracula, again, he knew. Or his minions. The psychic stain of the Lord of the Vampires hung heavy here. But that was a problem for another day, unfortunately.

Here, today, his problem was the Defenders.

He gestured and a soft, vegetable colored light surrounded the dying detective. Something sped away from Strange, a ghostly blob that splashed through Tompkins blood and wedged itself into his soul. Strange watched, frowning, as Tompkins opened his eyes.

Only it wasn’t Tompkins. It something older.

“I…I am-” Tompkins’ mouth moved, shoving the words out as his body healed itself. Became something different. “I am the…TURNIP! AND I HAVE RETURNED!”