The Fantastic Four #12

[fan4]

The Fantastic Four #12
House Call

Written and edited by Aaron Martel

Then:

Ben Grimm, the mightily muscled, orange rock-skinned member of the Fantastic Four known as the Thing, was standing under and holding up an immense weight composed of solid steel that threatened to crush him where he stood. His body began to shake with the effort as the pressure seemed to be mounting greater and greater. He risked moving his feet under his body more so he could get into a squatting position; the weight seemed to push down on him even harder but Ben remained stable.

And with a great yelp, Ben straightened his legs and pushed the weight up over his head and locked it into a chamber where it sat and remained above his head. Ben smirked and folded his arms.

“That all ya got, Stretcho?” Ben taunted, proud of himself.

Reed Richards, also called Mr. Fantastic, stood up from behind a panel and clapped his hands in applause. “That weight exerted seventy-five tons of pressure on your body, Ben. It’s the maximum amount it can handle.”

“Well, looks like yer gonna have ta upgrade, then,” Ben declared. Reed had designed this exercise room to keep the members of the FF fit, and this weight system was specially designed to test the Thing’s huge muscles.

“Guess it’s back to the drawing board,” Reed mused. “I wonder if I can design a weight that will increase its pressure incrementally so that even you would find it a challenge-“

And the brilliant scientist/superhero was interrupted when Sue and Johnny Storm, the sister and brother duo known as the Invisible Woman and the Human Torch, stomped into the room engaged in a heated argument. Or rather, Sue chased Johnny into the exercise room.

“-Everyone else pulls their weight around here but you! All you do is chase supermodels around!” Sue shouted, pointing her finger.

“Hey, supermodels need help, too! What do you want me to do, knock over an armored truck and get community service?” Johnny shot back.

“Hey!” Ben called out. “I volunteered for that service!”

“Listen, Johnny,” Sue spoke more softly. “Being a member of the Fantastic Four means we have some responsibilities to the community-“

“Responsibilities?!” Johnny roared. “How about saving all their asses when an invading alien army strikes!”

“Will you please do this one thing for me?” Sue pleaded. “It’s right up your alley, and I already signed you up.”

Johnny made a suspicious face. “What is it?”

[fan4]

Now:

A line of people spilled out of the door of the convention center and down the street, excitement buzzing in the air, all of them waiting for a special appearance by the Human Torch. The meet-and-greet’s organizer, Jane Mullins, was harried as she watched the growing throng of autograph and photograph seekers wander into the center to catch a glimpse of the famous young superhero. She was harried because he hadn’t shown up yet, and Johnny Storm’s appearance was scheduled to begin in approximately thirty seconds. She began to worry about what she’d have to say to the crowd if Johnny couldn’t make it-

When the Human Torch, a trail of fire blazing behind him, flew in through the upper window of the hall and landed on the stage to the cheering delight of the awestruck mass. Johnny flamed off, and shook the greatly relieved Jane Mullins’ hand.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Storm,” Jane breathed.

“Please, it’s no trouble to help out some sick kids,” Johnny shot back, holding his hands up and smiling. “And please, call me Johnny.”

All the proceeds from the Torch’s appearance were to be donated to the local kids-with-cancer charity, for which Johnny had been coerced into helping out. There’re no supermodels here, Johnny thought. I’m gonna kill Sue.

Johnny sat down at a table and settled in to meet his adoring fans, actually enjoying the limelight cast upon him. Roughly fifteen minutes into it he took a cursory glance to the side and did a double take. Standing on the side towards the back of the hall was a beautiful girl, easily supermodel-esque, with honey blonde hair and a dazzling smile, staring straight at him. She was totally captivating, but that wasn’t all that was striking about her. She also happened to standing with what was easily the biggest dog Johnny had ever seen.

Johnny posed for a picture with a fan and then looked back to where the girl was. She was still there, she was utterly gorgeous, and now she was slightly waving to him. The dog just sat there, apparently uninterested in the proceedings. Johnny couldn’t help but wave and smile back.

An autograph seeker diverted Johnny’s attention, and when he looked back to the side, the girl and the dog were both gone. He stood up, craning his neck for a better view, but it was clearly evident that they had left the building. How they could have disappeared so quickly he didn’t know, but Johnny silently hoped he would run into the girl again as he sat back down to meet his admiring public.

A piece of paper was thrust in front of him, and Johnny grabbed his pen to sign it. Without looking up, he asked, “Okay, who do I make this out to?”

A large hand as hard as concrete grabbed Johnny by the throat, lifting him into the air and cutting off his air. With bulging eyes Johnny looked into the face of a man who wore a green and brown striped shirt concealed in an overcoat, and sported a dark brown crew cut. But the hand grasping Johnny, as well as the entire arm the hand was attached to, seemed to be the consistency of hard, densely packed sand.

“How about you make it out to the Sandman?” the man taunted, throwing a gasping Johnny off the stage to the floor as the panicked crowd began to scatter, running for the exits.

Johnny got to his feet, hacking and clutching his throat. “Sandman?” Johnny sputtered. “Didn’t Spider-Man kick your ass not too long ago?”

The Sandman motioned with his index finger for Johnny to come back onstage. “Why don’tcha come up here and say that to my face, smartmouth?”

“FLAME ON!” Johnny shouted, exploding into flame and preparing to launch himself at the laughing Sandman. But before he could get into the air, a strange, white, glue-like substance splattered onto both of his feet and held him to the floor, hardening almost instantly and preventing the Torch from getting airborne. Johnny turned his head and saw a man wearing a purple jumpsuit with tan holsters hanging from his sides sprinting towards him. Though his face was clearly visible, the man wore a purple head cover, sported a tan military style utility belt around his waist, and wielded twin gun-like devices with wide barrels dripping with the adhesive substance engulfing Johnny’s feet. The man was smirking, flush with triumph.

“Haw haw!” Sandman crowed from the stage. “Ya got ‘im, PPP!”

The purple man whirled and pointed his weapon in the Sandman’s direction. “It’s Trapster now, you @#$%! TRAPSTER! Don’t call me Paste Pot Pete anymore, dipstick!”

Johnny observed the bickering with amusement and disbelief. Are you kidding me? Are these guys serious?

He then set about channeling tremendous levels of heat into his legs and feet, in an attempt to burn himself free of the near diamond hard substance. While the two goons continued to argue, the Torch spied tiny cracks begin to form in the stuff, and with a final effort, a huge burst of flame erupted and Johnny was free! He hurled himself into the air-

And was driven back by a laser-like, concussive blast that came at him from another direction. Another man entered the scene behind the Torch, flying through the air in an upright position, firing multiple blasts at Johnny discharged from purple armored gloves. This man’s sneering, goateed face was also discernable, but his body was covered in thin, flexible, purple hued armor. He was also standing on what appeared to be flat discs that enabled him to fly by canceling the power of gravity.

For a brief moment the two combatants resembled an airplane dogfight, with Johnny flinging fireballs at the new attacker, countered by the newcomer’s laser blasts, both opponents zig zagging through the air, until a vicious miniature sandstorm created by the Sandman swept over Johnny and smothered his flame, causing the young hero to crash to the ground.

Johnny slowly got up, spitting sand from his mouth, when something soft and snake-like circled around his neck and under his armpits. In a millisecond, the Torch was lifted off his feet and slammed hard to the ground on his head with a sickening crunch. The red, tendril-like strands of hair released Johnny and returned to their owner: a beautiful, shapely woman in a purple jumpsuit, also outfitted with black gloves, boots, and a black mask. The woman gazed down at the still figure lying at her feet with indifference.

“Holy Crap, Medusa!” Sandman bellowed, running over to the woman. “Is he dead?”

Madam Medusa looked down and felt for Johnny’s pulse with her hair. “No, he lives. But he will be unconscious for some time. I thought you were going to kill him when you choked him.”

Sandman grinned. “Nah, but I see ya took a page from my book with the neck thing.”

The armored flying man landed next to them. “She couldn’t kill him. Yet. He is still important to my plans.”

“Your plans, Wiz?” Sandman chortled. “Don’tcha mean our plans?”

“The plans that came from my superior brain,” the man bristled through gritted teeth. “And I’ve told you time and again to call me the wingless Wizard, or just the Wizard.”

The Trapster joined the group, ignoring his teammates’ bickering. “So what’s next, boss?”

“I will now program the proper coordinates into my gauntlet,” the Wizard replied, opening a compartment on his glove and punching buttons on it. “Now prepare for the next phase of my plan.”

The Sandman scooped up and threw the limp Johnny upon his granite-hard shoulder as the fivesome’s bodies glowed and then disappeared in a bright flash of light.

[fan4]

The ground floor lobby of the Baxter Building was in its normal state of low bustle when a bright light appeared out of thin air and the five superhumans materialized in the middle of the room. Moving with practiced swiftness, the Wizard blasted the two surprised security guards with his gauntlets while the Trapster fired his glue guns at the terrified elderly receptionist, Mrs. McCleary, adhering her hands to the reception desk. The Wizard approached the elevator that would allow access to the upper levels of the building, where the Fantastic Four maintained its headquarters. The Sandman, still carrying the knocked out Human Torch, accosted the self-appointed leader of the group with disdain.

“Hey Wiz, how come we didn’t just teleport up to their place?” Sandman mocked.

“Because Richards has defenses against such technology, dolt,” the Wizard snapped, again incensed at the way Sandman addressed him. “All the upper levels are protected. I’ve studied the stolen schematics of this building for some time now. And I know the only way unauthorized personnel get into the command center is to be ‘invited’ in.”

The Wizard looked carefully at the elevator buttons. “Hmmm. Apparently, a retina scan operates the doors. Sandman, bring the flaming idiot here.”

The Sandman flipped Johnny off his shoulder and held the hero’s head up as Madam Medusa drew near. Utilizing a few strands of her living hair, Medusa pried one of Johnny’s eyes open and placed it under the scan. The doors opened and the evil band piled inside. Madam Medusa punched a button, and the elevator doors closed.

[fan4]

Three seconds later, the doors opened on the FF’s living area and the Trapster ran out-

And was abruptly knocked back into the elevator, from a haymaker courtesy of the Thing. The villains looked out and saw Ben Grimm, Reed Richards, and Sue Storm standing ready and waiting for them.

“You know, we have video cameras and silent alarms installed in the lobby,” Sue informed the scoundrels. “Now hand over my brother.”

“Ya got a lotta nerve comin’ here,” Ben growled.

“I’ll show ya nerve!” Sandman snarled, and charged at the Thing, tossing Johnny to the side.

“Johnny!” Sue screamed.

Mr. Fantastic stretched his limbs with deceptive speed and wrapped them around the still unconscious Human Torch, gently moving the young superhero to the end of the room and setting him down. He turned to rejoin the imminent fight-

And was stunned from the Wizard’s concussive blast.

[fan4]

Sandman hardened his form and plowed into Ben with an enormous WHOOM!, the two titans sprawling to the floor, loose grains of sand flying off the Sandman’s body. Ben recovered quickly and punched Sandman in the chest, but was shocked to find his fist passing straight through the villain’s loosely constituted frame with a volcanic-like explosion of sand. Forming his hands into two concrete-solid mallets, Sandman pounded the Thing on both sides of the rock-skinned hero’s head with the force of a jackhammer, and Ben crumpled down.

“Huh. You ain’t so tough,” Sandman jeered.

But Ben sprung to his feet and caught Sandman under the chin with a double-fisted blow that sent the sandy rogue reeling across the room.

“Tougher than you,” Ben derided.

[fan4]

Madame Medusa snaked her hair and tightly held the wrists of the Invisible Woman, who was struggling in vain against the bizarre hold. Before Sue could even think to react, Medusa had clutched Sue’s throat with her serpentine tresses in an attempt to strangle the female member of the Fantastic Four.

“Struggle all you wish, but you cannot escape,” came Medusa’s imperious tone.

But then Medusa herself began gasping for air, as Sue had formed an invisible force field clamp around Medusa’s throat. For nearly half a minute the two females engaged in a desperate battle for breath, until Medusa unexpectedly relinquished her hold on Sue and fell, while Sue simultaneously released Medusa from the unseen choke-hold. Both women lay there, wheezing and gulping in all the air they could take into their lungs.

Finally, Sue staggered to her feet and tried to regroup, but Medusa’s eerie, slithering hair gripped Sue’s arm and yanked the Invisible Woman back right into Medusa’s lashing right cross. Sue fell again, and Medusa pressed her advantage, kicking Sue in the temple and knocking the super-heroine out cold.

[fan4]

The Wizard floated on his anti-gravity discs and fired blast after blast at Reed Richards, who was contorting his pliable body like an organic pretzel to dodge them. Reed, still somewhat dazed from the Wizard’s initial assault, wasn’t allowed a moment to think and focus on what he needed to do to stop this onslaught. But then the Wizard swooped too low, and Reed, abnormally operating on instinct, used his arm like a tripwire and took the Wizard’s legs out from under him. The villain spun crazily out of control and slammed to the ground, and Reed quickly wrapped the Wizard up in his elastic arms.

“Now, you seem to be the leader of this motley crew,” Reed stated. “Who are you, how did you know how to get into the Baxter Building, and why are you attacking us?”

The Wizard gave Reed a distasteful look. “Ah, yes. Reed Richards, the so-called Mr. Fantastic. So smug in his intellectual prowess, and yet he would never deign to believe his home could be so invaded. You disappoint me.”

And Reed screamed as the Trapster, sneaking up behind the stretchable superhero, planted a device on Reed’s neck that sent a powerful current of electricity through his bendable body. Reed collapsed, unconscious, while the Wizard, unaffected by the electric shock because of his body armor, stood and dusted his hands with a conceited expression on his face.

[fan4]

The Thing and the Sandman traded blows like two heavyweight prizefighters, neither one gaining the upper hand, neither one willing to show a sign of weakness.

“Heard you were some kinda badass, Grimm,” Sandman jostled. “I’m still standing here, ain’t I?”

Ben retorted, ”I been lettin’ ya off easy, chump. Now it’s clobberin’ time!”

Ben rushed at Sandman and leaped through the air with surprising dexterity, intending to tackle the Sandman like an NFL linebacker. But Sandman loosened his body and Ben plowed right through the villain, getting sand in his eyes and temporarily blinding him. Ben rubbed his eyes and found his upper arms were adhered to his torso, from the Trapster’s glue guns.

“What’s this?” Ben asked, flummoxed, his elbows pinned to his sides.

“That’s called ‘you’re a sittin’ duck’,” Sandman ribbed as he formed his right fist into a granite sledge. “An’ this is ‘your ass is grass, chump’!”

And the Sandman mercilessly battered the helpless Thing’s head over and over until Ben, too, was rendered unconscious.

[fan4]

The Wizard looked around and took stock of the situation. The entire Fantastic Four lay beaten and unconscious while the four super-villains stood supreme, roughed-up but nonetheless victorious.

“Yes!” the Wizard exclaimed, shaking his fist in evil exhilaration. “The Baxter Building once housed the Fantastic Four, but now it is the domain of the Frightful Four!”

To be continued