Shocking headlines
Marc Spector, Misty Knight, and Dr. Regina Wallows at breakfast together at the nearby diner once again. Marc had grown fond of their pancakes and buttery syrup. The two women spoke in hushed tones as Marc ate. He knew they spoke of him, but he did not care what they said. They were his only option of stopping the Night Shift and following through with Knoshu's will. "Well, I mean, whether or not it's factual doesn't the fact that he believes it so strongly mean something?" Misty asked the doctor.
"That's exactly the point i am trying to make. What if he is only capable of doing these things he's done in the past was because he believed he do them?" the doctor agreed.
"But how is that possible?" Misty asked.
"Maybe…" the doctor paused for a second. "And i know how unprofessional this sounds from a therapeutic stand-point, but maybe his psychoses is what has been giving him these abilities. Like, maybe his unhealthy brain that we think is the problem is really a solution."
Marc mopped up a puddle of syrup with a swath of pancake and looked at the issue of The Daily Bugle that Misty had open. The tall Bird-skulled man pointed a long and taloned finger down onto the article Marc looked at. The article read :
Corpses walk out of Morgue!
Late last night, NYPD responded to a series of frantic phone calls from the workers of the morgue in Bellevue Hospital.
According to the employees, over a dozen corpses opened their eyes, stood up and marched out of the building. The walking dead filed into a waiting van and were driven off. All of the witnesses have been admitted to Bellevue for psychiatric evaluation and questioning. The police have no further comment.
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Misty Knight felt a vibration in her coat pocket and reached into it to withdraw her cell phone. Looking at the screen she saw that she had missed a call from the Met. She saw that a short voicemail had been left for her by the caller. She believed it may have been left by Maximilian Pride, the curator of the museum. Raising a single finger to Dr. Regina Wallows to ask her to wait momentarily, Misty listened to the voicemail.
"Um...hi….it's me, Felicia. Felicia Bifrost, I'm the curator's assistant here at the Met. I spoke to you about my brother. I was calling to ask if i could speak with you in person, it's kind of important. I'll be sitting in the park at The Obelisk near the Met when i get off work until about 7 tonight if you can please meet with me. Thank you, bye." The familiar voice of Felicia Bifrost whispered.
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Later on in the afternoon Marc Spector had been left in the care of Natasha Romanov. He had requested to see Matt, but when he was dropped off at the apartment Matt was out at the Nelson & Murdock law offices while Natasha sat around in his apartment watching television. This temporary leave from S.H.I.E.L.D. Had really been beneficial for her.
Shortly after relieving Dr. Wallows of her patient Natasha noticed Marc speaking on Matt's landline telephone. "Yeah, Frenchie. It's me, Mr. Lockley." Marc said into the phone. Natasha eavesdropped for a moment. "And how many times could i have thought you were dead, mate? Look, I've got something going on. It's big and i need your help. Is there any money left over from Grant's 'Legend of Knoshu' movie? Good. Bring me that and my gear. Yeah."
Natasha walked up to Marc sitting in the couch talking on the phone. "You got the address already? That's why i love you, Frenchie." Marc hung up the phone and looked up at Natasha. "Let's go bring flowers to people in the hospital."
Natasha just looked confusedly at the man. "Are you serious?" She asked.
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As Natasha and Marc passed through the main entrance of Bellevue Hospital Marc saw a nurse's station down the corridor. Several nurses were standing behind the counter. Marc approached and asked to visit the patients who had claimed to witness the corpses leaving the morgue. Both he and Natasha held bouquets of flowers. Slightly surprised by his request, the head nurse said, "I'll have to page Dr. List, he's in charge if those patients." she lifted the receiver of an in-building phone line and spoke "Dr. List? Yes, this is Nurse Crandall, i have a couple reporter types who wanna speak with your special patients. Yes, doctor, ok."
She then hung up the phone and informed Marc that Dr. List would be with them shortly.
After several minutes, Doctor List finally stepped out of a nearby elevator. "Hello, I'm Doctor List. Please follow me."
The three of them stepped into the elevator and began riding up to the 23rd floor. "Did either of you know Bellevue Hospital is the oldest general hospital in North America? Although we treat illnesses of all types, we have acquired the reputation of being a mental hospital. I must say, however, we do indeed have an excellent psychiatric department." Dr. List laughed uncomfortably trying to make conversation. "So why are you guys here to see these patients?"
Marc simply held up his bouquet of flowers and nodded affirmatively, as if this were answer enough for the doctor. "Mmm, ok." the doctor responded.
The elderly and somewhat strange Dr. List rambled on for some time about the hospital before leading Marc and Natasha into the room of patient James Biggles, the first person to see the corpses move. Mr. Biggles was obviously very heavily sedated.
"Hey, Jimmy." Marc said to the prostrate man on the bed.
"Hello?" the man responded.
"How're you doing?" Marc asked.
"Not so good…" James Biggles responded. He had difficulty answering Marc's questions, often lapsing into incoherent babbling.
"What did you see?" Marc asked again.
Jimmy related to Marc that the corpses slid themselves out of their compartments and walked out of the rooms right after he had placed them their for refrigeration. They proceeded to the 'Meat Wagon entrance' of the morgue, as Jimmy called it. There was a white van that smelled sweet waiting there for the corpses, and it drove off with them.
"Why's he like that?" Marc asked the doctor who remained present.
"He endured great trauma from witnessing the theft of the corpses from the Morgue. To cope with what happened we believe that him, as well as his co workers and fellow patients Mr. Dodd and Ms. Waylan suffered some form of mass hysteria to cope with what they saw. So we have been keeping him sedated to refrain him from having episodes." The doctor explained. "And to that end if you're here to write a story about this i doubt the other two will be able to tell you anything more useful. This whole zombies in Bellevue thing is just ludicrous and i hope whatever paper you write for would be kind enough not to sensationalize this."
A nurse entered the room carrying a small package. The patient snatched the parcel and began tearing off the wrapping paper. Inside was a white box of candy, stenciled on which in filigree read 'Hammerhead Doodles', and below that in small black it read 'Chocolate supremes'. With drool dribbling down his chin, Jimmy opened the box of sweets, and a small envelope fell to the floor. "these guys are getting a lot of love today. I just delivered one of those to Mrs. Waylan and Mr. Dodd as well." the nurse commented.
Black Widow bent over to retrieve the envelope that had fallen to the floor. The envelope had not been sealed, so she opened it and found a white and gold card that read : ''A parting gift from the dearly departed."
As she looked up it all began to dawn on her. She could already see the realization in Marc's eyes. Marc reached out and snatched the few chocolates from Jimmy's hand and smacked the box of goodies to the floor. Jimmy moaned in discontent at his sweets being spoiled, and the nurse in doctor stood in shock. "What on earth?!" the doctor asked, shocked by Marc's behavior.
"The chocolate's poisoned!" Marc shouted at the nurse and doctor.
The nurse who had delivered the chocolates buried her hands in her face and screamed. "The other patients! We have to stop them!!" Natasha screamed and dragged the nurse out of the room so Natasha could be directed to the other patients.
An emergency team of nurses and physicians leapt into action to stop the patients from eating their tainted chocolates. The other two patients had already eaten large quantities of their gift before they could be alerted. They were found stricken with convulsions and asphyxiating before attention could be given. Mrs. Waylan and Mr. Dodd were saved from death but unfortunately lapsed into comas shortly after.
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The car door slammed shut, and the older man slumped down into the seat, withdrawing his jacket that was soaked with November rain. He fished a cell phone out of his pants pocket and dialed a number on speed-dial. Outside, past the parking lot where his car sat, Detective Flint waited beside the Hammerhead Doodles Chocolate Factory. The address to which had been on the envelope that had fallen from the box of poisoned candies.
Detective Flint was a skilled police detective and criminal investigator for the NYPD. He led a small patrol of fearless officers that he called 'The Freak Beat', as they dealt with the supernatural and paranormal crimes that popped up across New York. He was an elderly man of 65, and had been unable to retire as he had not joined the force until late into his forties. He would have to work i to his 80s if he wanted to retire with a nice enough pension. He ran his hands through his soaked gray hair and groomed his white moustache. "Hello?" Marc Spector's voice asked on the phone line.
"Yeah, Marc it's me, Flint." The detective responded. Years ago, Flint had been assigned a member of a 'sweeper squad' that dealt with freak or inhumane homicides that popped up across the city. Having had established a connection between Moon Knight and a series of murders hitting hell's kitchen Flint eventually contacted Marc years ago. He reached out to Moon Knight, who under the alias of Jake Lockley helped him with his cases. He did not approve of Moon Knight's tactics however and was never pleased to be cleaning up the associated murder cases. After Moon Knight's violent intervention in a hostage situation in the One World Trade Center had been caught on camera, and a relationship between Flint and Moon Knight exposed, Flint was fired. However, he had recently been reinstated and given his own team.
"Did you ask around at the factory?" Marc asked over the phone.
"Sure, sure, i asked some questions. This is a legitimate business. I took your box of toxic bonbons to the manager, and he informed me they were not made at this plant. The boxes ain't even the same, what those patients at Bellevue got were clever counterfeits." Detective Flint told Marc.
"Thanks, Flint."
"Something tells me I'm gonna be hearing quite a bit more about this poison chocolate business."
"Definitely. It's never over that easy with Moon Knight, you know that."
"Some cops get maybe Spider-Man, but i get the king of rejects...just try to keep the kill-count minimal."
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Shadows had fallen across Central Park. Neat the Metropolitan Museum of Art stood the familiar Obelisk, where Misty had saved Johnny the night before. On a bench beside the monument was Felicia Bifrost. Staring into the gathering darkness, she appeared very nervous as if she expected someone to leap out of the darkness at her at any moment. When Misty Knight approached she found Felicia with streams of tears rolling down her angelic face.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Misty asked as she greeted her with a hug.
"It's Johnny!" Felicia screamed, hysterical.
"What happened?"
"He's been missing since yesterday! The last time i spoke with him we fought!"
"Whoah! Hold on!" Misty said taking Felicia in her arms and attempting to soothe her. "Johnny left the gang! We saw him last night!"
"Wha--? When?" Felicia asked confused.
"Yeah, he came looking for me last night. He had left the Flashing Blades and even helped us stop something big last night." Misty soothed.
"So, he's with you?" Felicia asked.
Misty thought back on to when she had arrived at the Heroes For Hire offices that morning with Dr. Regina Wallows to have a session with Marc. As the doctor had unlocked the doors Misty had seen Johnny leave the building, but given that he was not a prisoner and there of his own volition Misty thought nothing of his departure. If anything, she believed Johnny would've returned home or to his sister immediately. Now he had been MIA for most of the day after he had been rescued by his former gang members. "No…" Misty answered as her voice trailed off, thinking on what could've happened to the young man.
"We fought yesterday because Johnny said he wanted to help Heroes For Hire find the book! I thought it was dangerous. He said that he had uncovered something and that it was important." Felicia confessed.
Recalling their meeting from the night before Misty could remember nothing of Johnny expressing desire to help them or anything he had uncovered about the book. Excepting, of course, the meeting that Mister Fear had held with his Faces Of Fear.
"I'll look for him." Misty said.
Felicia dug into her purse for a sticky note and a pen. Scribbling an address down onto the not and handing it over to Misty , Felicia stood. "He might just be hiding from the Flashing Blades if he really left them, but I'm afraid he's in big trouble. If Johnny found something, it's probably in his apartment. I won't go there."
"I'll find him." Misty answered.
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Matt Murdock opened Apartment door and walked in hefting two large bags of Chinese food with a bottle of Vodka sitting atop it. After spending the day hunched over a desk, literally thumbing over hundreds of legal documents and case files he was looking forward to a night in with greasy food, liquor, and Natasha. His mood dropped as he had walked down the hallway towards his place and could sense that it was completely empty. Natasha had made off somewhere, and not alone. He could smell the distinct scent signatures of Marc Spector and Misty Knight around the apartment. Not even a note had been left for him to explain the absence. Resignedly he set out a single plate and served himself the food from styrofoam containers, and pouring himself a deep glass of the cheap vodka.
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Johnny Bifrost lived on Yancy Street, and when Misty Knight saw the neighborhood she knew why Felicia refused to go there. The streets were lined with abandoned cars, rusting into oblivion. Overflowing and spilled garbage cans blocked the streets, where dogs fought for scraps. The stench of decay was oppressive. Finally, Misty, Marc and Natasha came to Johnny's apartment building. The Windows had been boarded up. The derelict building looked as if it could collapse at any moment.
In the shadow of the doorway, Misty thought she saw the forms of the human denizens of Yancy Street.
The three forms languishing in the hallway were homeless winos. The three of them had shared a very expensive bottle of liquor, and only one of them was still semi-conscious. The winos simply reposed drunkenly as the three visitors stepped over them. The 3 drunks seemed to be the only inhabitants of these apartments. The doors had been thrown or broken open to reveal vacant apartments and squatting areas. The dilapidated building had three floors, and Johnny was supposed to be on the 1st floor.
The door had been sealed with a padlock, which had obviously been pried off with a crowbar or some such tool. Inside, the room was a complete mess. Furniture vandalized and objects displaced, as if someone had been looking for something.
"No sign of Johnny." Marc answered.
"Damn it." Misty exclaimed under her breath.
There was only one item of significance in any kind of pristine condition in Johnny's apartment. In a cleared space in the center of the room sat a large, white box. On the milk-white package in large golden-filigree letters were the words 'Hammerhead Doodles'. Below that in black letters it read: 'Chocolate supremes'. Black Widow approached the box and noticed an envelope on the box, and upon opening it revealed another card. The message inside that card was inscribed: 'A savory explosion of flavors just for you! From your close friends at the Aurora Chocolate Mill, 2112 E. 14th street.'
"Guys!!" Black Widow screamed.
As Marc and Misty approached Black Widow slowly slid open the box of Hammerhead Doodles. As the box opened an LED readout began to count down a timer set for 8 minutes. Wires connected the LED detonator to pounds of C4 plastic explosives by two wires, a red and a yellow. "Shit!!" Misty screamed seeing the high payload explosive and remembering the tragedy that had cost her her arm. Marc and Natasha stared wide-eyed and in shock at the bomb.
Natasha had plenty of experience dealing with explosives during her time as a Russian operative, a US super-spy, and as an Avenger. Explosives seemed to be the supreme method of destruction amongst major terrorists and criminals. But, despite her skill with this sort of threat she was perplexed. There were only two wires, and to deactivate the bomb one of the wires from the detonator to the explosive had to be disconnected. If the wrong wire was cut the charge would detonate. If both wires were cut at the same time, the charge would detonate. She had only a 50% chance of preventing the explosion. "Those guys downstairs, get them out of here. I've got this." Natasha barked at Marc and Misty.
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Marc dropped two of the Winos onto the ground down the block from where the apartment building was. The third, who had been barely clinging onto lucidity stumbled down the street with the help of Misty. Finally stopping, she leaned her charge against a car. "Hey?!" Misty yelled snapping her fingers before the drunk man's face to garner his attention. "Any guys go walking through that building carrying a white box? You guys could've just died!"
"Hey, me and the bros didn't see no box. Three guys came earlier in a white van. They gave us a good bottle of hooch to just watch their vehicle. I didn't think nothing of it." the semi coherent drunk slurred.
"What did these guys look like?" Marc asked the drunk.
"They were still wearing halloween masks, and they smelled like chocolate. I think Larry got the license plate number!" the drunk said waddling over to his even more inebriated friend and slapping him awake. "Larr! What was the number?"
"Number?!" the lazy drunk mumbled, and then seemed to recall something. "867-5309!"
The second drunk then quickly fell unconscious once again.
"When was the last time you saw Johnny?" Misty asked.
"Whodafuck's Johnny?! We don't know Johnny. But, when those 3 guys that gave us the hooch came out they was carrying a kid with 'em. But see, cops are taking runaways out of here all the time." the drunk mumbled on.
Marc turned and began to run quickly back towards the apartment complex. "Marc, wait, no!" Misty yelled after him as he charged towards the bomb.
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Natasha knelt over the bomb, sweat dropping from her brow. She had thought if she studied the device for a bit longer she would be able to accurately determine which wire to cut. But, there was no clear indicator which of the wires was going to ignite the explosives. In most wired bombs there were a number of other irrelevant wires that could be removed, leaving by process of elimination the live wire. With this bomb, she had half a chance at survival as now the final minutes ticked away on the counter. In an act of desperation Natasha placed her small scissors over the red wire, and prepared to sever it.
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As Marc Knight ran as fast as he could up the stairs to Johnny's apartment he noticed a strange white goo in footprints leading to Johnny's door. He had not noticed them on their first trek up the stairs to the place. Looking at his digital wrist-watch Marc knew that Natasha had reached the last minute of the timer. He had not seen her leave the building yet, and the bomb was about to detonate.
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The broken door swung open to the apartment once again, and Marc Spector stood in the doorway. Moonlight poured in through a broken slat of wood over a window and bathed the man in the glow. "Yellow!" Marc shouted to her.
Removing the small srt of personal scissors over the yellow wire. The seconds ticked away and in a nervous jump Natasha severed the yellow wire. When the numbers on the LED screen flashed both Marc and Natasha jumped as they believed they were about to be incinerated in the blast. Instead the numbers remained flashing and the bomb had been successfully disarmed. Natasha sighed and looked to Marc who wore a relieved expression as he stood stoically in the moonlight.
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The next day Misty dedicated all her effort to hunting down Felicia who had sent them into a trap. Even if she had done so inadvertently, she was involved and would also need to be protected from whoever had kidnapped Johnny and attempted to blow them up. However, contacting Felicia Bifrost proved to be rather difficult. Whenever Felicia had called the Heroes For Hire or Jessica or Misty personally she had always used the Met's phones or a pay phone. In fact, Felicia Bifrost was not listed in the massive New York phone book either. The obvious place to look for her was The Met, but Misty quickly was informed by the curator Maximilian Pride that Felicia had not shown up for work that morning. Misty thought back onto her and Jessica's first meeting with the seemingly fine young woman. When they had offered to walk her home she had stilled hailed a cab from the park and left them after asking for their help in locating her brother. Felicia had said she lived nearby Jessica Jones, but Misty asked the curator for her address regardless. When Misty arrived at the address Felicia had listed on her application to find an abandoned lot she wrinkled the ball of paper with the address in her fist, furious at having fallen for Felicia's trick and having put Marc and Natasha's lives in danger.
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