Chapter 1
Dinosaur World steamed under a primeval sun. Roiling oceans smashed at jagged continents. Pterodactyls lumbered through the sky, the lush jungle below them barely stifling the cries of creatures fighting with tooth and claw to survive another day. In the Valley of Flame a massive volcano erupted and the ground trembled beneath its fury. It was a harsh and unforgiving land and yet life persisted, seemingly in defiance of the gods who had yet to finish their ungainly creation. It was the world of Devil Dinosaur and Moon-Boy.
The young hominid called Moon-Boy clung to Devil Dinosaur's back as the mighty tyrannosaur crested a ridge. Devil halted as he spied the Valley of Flame spread out before them. Moon-Boy belonged to the tribe of Dawn Men called the Small Folk. The Small Folk had lived in the Valley of Flame for as long as they could remember. They were naturally wary of the fierce creatures who roamed the jungled floor of the valley and Devil was the fiercest of them all. Fiercer even than the Killer Folk, a warlike tribe of Dawn Men who wanted the Valley of Flame for themselves.
Moon-Boy chittered and clapped the side of Devil's muscular neck. "We are home!" he cried in the guttural language of the Dawn Men, "And what stories we have to tell my people!"
Devil grumbled. He remembered how Moon-Boy's tribe hated him, how they feared his kind. They would not welcome him back.
Devil had been little more than a hatchling when Moon-Boy happened upon him. The Killer Folk had trapped Devil's mother and brood on the flank of a volcano and slaughtered all but Devil. Devil would have died too, had the fire mountain had not shown its anger. The earth had spit out fire and ash and the Killer Folk had run away. Devil himself was unharmed, though his flesh had turned red. Why that should be and why Devil had survived at all was a mystery. The Small Folk elders said the gods had marked Devil as their own.
The two younglings had adopted each other. But as Devil grew bigger and stronger, the frightened Small Folk no longer wanted him around.
"He must leave the valley!" they had cried, "For one day he may hunger for us!" Moon-Boy pleaded with his tribe. "The Killer Folk would have smashed us were it not for Devil!" he reminded them. Indeed, Devil had turned back more than one attack by the Killer Folk. In the end, Moon-Boy failed to change their minds and left with Devil to explore the world outside the valley.
Devil and Moon-Boy had shared many adventures together. Devil had defeated a host of awesome creatures in raging battles. They had skirted dangerous fire mountains and stared in awe at great waters that stretched as far as the eye could see. They had wandered deep canyons and dank caves full of the bones of ancient creatures long gone from the world. But by far their strangest journey had been to the distant future. Or maybe it had been another world entirely. Moon-Boy still did not understand how they had traveled there and back. It was a trick of the gods he thought.
The other world was a confusing place of great villages and the Strange Folk, who were clothed in colors the like of which Moon-Boy had never seen. They talked their own talk and possessed fantastic powers. Eventually the Strange Folk learned to speak to Moon-Boy and told him of "time" and "space" and other things he barely understood. Like the great waters, their world overwhelmed him and so he asked them to send him and Devil home. Moon-Boy longed for the dangerous but simple life of Dinosaur World. He wanted to see the Valley of Flame again.
The Strange Folk had done as Moon-Boy asked. They had sent them home. Moon-Boy and Devil were happy to be back in their own world and time. Still, Moon-Boy missed his new friends and hoped some day to see them again.
Devil grunted and pawed at the ground. The Valley of Flame lay before them, blanketed under rushing storm clouds. The sky rumbled and raked the ground with flashes of lightning. Moon-Boy laughed and scratched Devil's head. "Come, my impatient friend," he said, "Let us return to the Valley of Flame and the shelter of the trees!"
Chapter 2
An Avengers quinjet streaked over the Atlantic Ocean. Jim Scully and Daimon Hellstrom sat in the cockpit and fidgeted. Scully was bored. He was a warrior and hated long stretches of inactivity. Hellstrom, as usual, seemed preoccupied, staring out the window as if he could glean meaning from the ether.
Scully and Hellstrom were better known as Skull the Slayer and the Son of Satan. Together they headed The Legion of Monsters, a motley team of freakish superheroes. The Legion was returning from a successful mission in Europe, the Acolytes of Darkness having been defeated once again.
Suddenly the cockpit view screen crackled to life, the face of Morbius the Living Vampire taking shape in front of them.
Michael Morbius was also a member of the Legion of Monsters but he had elected to stay behind to work on one of his experiments. Morbius was on an endless quest to find a cure for his vampiric condition.
"Don't come back!" Morbius said, "It's spreading too fast!" Morbius leaned back to reveal a jagged wound to his shoulder. "It's infecting even me! There's not much time..."
The view screen went black. Skull and Daimon Hellstrom exchanged puzzled glances.
Skull stabbed a button and the view screen flashed on again, flooding the cockpit with an alarming news report.
"The infection started in New York," stated a nervous CNN reporter, "And it's eclipsing the globe at a tremendous pace. The heroes are the vector! Avoid them at all costs!"
Skull frowned and toggled a switch. "Can't this bird fly any faster?"
Daimon Hellstrom shook his head as he studied the instrument panel in front of him. "We're going as fast as we can."
"What's going on?" asked Jack Russell, the werewolf member of the Legion of Monsters. He'd poked his head into the cockpit.
The news report continued. "This is the end. Prepare yourselves." The sobbing reporter winked out and was replaced by a "Please Stand By" alert. Something inside Jack Russell growled.
Suddenly the quinjet's emergency alert system activated. Red lights bathed the interior of the quinjet and a warning klaxon whooped. Skull clenched his fists and smacked the panel in front of him. "Dammit, what the hell is going on?"
The noise faded and was replaced by the voice of Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D. "If you can hear this, know that the helicarrier has been overrun by zombies. We tried to hold them off but they're just too powerful. Don't have much time. God be with you." The intercom squawked and lapsed into silence.
Dread settled over the cockpit like a shroud. Jack Russell gripped the edges of the doorway. Inside him the werewolf scented fear and writhed in anticipation. Jack wanted so badly to change.
"It's okay, Jack," said Greer Nelson, the werecat known as Tigra, "Just calm down." She stood behind Jack and caressed his arms, trying to coax his lupine alter ego into submission.
Behind Tigra, seated in the quinjet's passenger cabin, were the other members of the Legion of Monsters. N'Kantu the Living Mummy sat pensively, studying his reflection in a window. Cursed to a withered existence for thousands of years, N'Kantu sensed the end was near and welcomed it. But for his friends he would fight it.
Across from N'Kantu sat the infamous Frankenstein monster, the hulking jigsaw man brought to life two hundred years earlier by a mad baron obsessed with life and death. The monster stared down at his massive hands, as if steeling them for battle. His thoughts were the same as N'Kantu's. One glorious final battle, then at long last, peace.
In the rear of the passenger cabin sat Simon Garth, the dead man known simply as the Zombie. No thoughts coursed through Garth's brain, no blood rushed through his veins. His dead heart hung limp within his breast. He would remain insensate until prodded into action by Skull the Slayer via the mystical Amulets of Damballah. One of two such artifacts necklaced Garth, the other was possessed by Skull. Through it he controlled the Zombie.
Skull absentmindedly rubbed his amulet, a token passed to him from the Legion's former leader, the mystic Brother Voodoo. "Zombies!" he muttered, "Superpowered zombies!"
Simon Garth's hands spasmed and he lifted his head. A low moan, or maybe it was a sigh, escaped his lips. He too, hungered for the peace of the grave.
There were other members of the Legion of Monsters. The muck creature known as the Man-Thing had trudged back to his beloved Florida swamp after their previous adventure. The monolithic Golem stood guard over the Legion's headquarters in New York. The supernatural entity called the Scarecrow helped out only on rare occasions. The demonic Ghost Rider hadn't been seen in months. The Gargoyle spent most of his time with the Defenders as did the Beast with the X-Men. These eclectic satellite members were irascible, inscrutable and unreliable. Still, Skull the Slayer wished they were present. This new crisis gave him a very bad feeling.
"Where can we go?" asked Daimon Hellstrom, "Fury isn't a milksop. If this is as bad as he says we need time to plan."
Skull furrowed his brow. "I know a place," he said grimly, "But it's not so safe."
Skull punched in a new course and the quinjet rocketed south, straight towards the Bermuda Triangle. Straight towards the dimensional barrier that led to an alternate Earth. A dangerous, primordial world of dinosaurs and alien menace.
Chapter 3
"Sorry about the rough trip!" called Skull the Slayer to his passengers as the quinjet settled with a jolt.
"You okay, Damien?" asked Skull, "Your trident get bent or something?" Daimon Hellstrom remained silent for a moment. He didn't appreciate Skull's humor.
"It's Daimon as you well know," he replied, "And I think something hit us as we were going through the dimensional barrier."
Skull shrugged. "I felt it too, but it's always a rough ride. It was probably just an air pocket." Skull turned and looked into the passenger cabin. His teammates were restless. "Well, let's take a look and see where we are."
The Legion of Monsters stood on a rolling volcanic plain. Jagged rocks studded the landscape, guarding their distant progenitor like a hardscabble army. The ancient basaltic flow gradually faded to a fern-covered lowland that ended abruptly at a ridge overlooking a jungled valley. At the far end of the valley lay another volcano, spewing clouds of ash and rivers of lava.
Skull stood silently, taking in the view. He seemed troubled and uncertain.
"So this is where you were trapped before?" asked Jack Russell.
Skull continued to study the vista in front of him. He could feel the ground vibrating through his boots, a vestige of the far off volcano. The heat and humidity took his breath away. "I don't know if this is the same world," he said, "Or maybe it is, but later."
"Later?" asked Daimon Hellstrom.
"Yeah," answered Skull, "I think time flows differently in this place. Who knows how long it's been since I was last here. Or maybe this is before I was here."
Jack Russell stretched and fidgeted. He hated the confines of the quinjet and was glad to be in the open air. The smell of the new world was inviting. He wanted to free the beast within him. "Anyone up for a run through the jungle?" he asked, forcing a grin.
N'Kantu and the Frankenstein monster looked at Jack. Neither of them could manage more than a shamble.
Tigra was perched on one of the quinjet's wings. "Do we have to stay here?" she grumbled, "This wet heat is hell on my fur."
Daimon Hellstrom almost laughed. "Heat? This is nothing!"
"Cut the banter," growled Skull, "Don't you realize how bad the situation is?"
Jack Russell curled his fingers into claws. "We're monsters! How bad could it get?"
A flash of red and white showed Jack how bad it could get. One second Tigra was there and the next she was gone, carried aloft by the hero known as Stingray.
"Let me go, you freak!" screamed Tigra. The panic in her voice startled even Simon Garth, still sitting in the dark interior of the quinjet. Tigra raked Stingray with her claws, forcing him down onto the rocky ground.
"Jack! With me!" screamed Skull, "Daimon, stay here with the others!"
Tigra and Stingray were a flurry of orange, red and white. Suddenly their battle ended with a scream.
Skull stopped and grabbed Jack Russell, halting their advance. "Hold up," he said grimly, "I think this is the bad part."
Stingray was hunched over Tigra's still form, moving in a herky-jerky fashion. Blood pattered on the rocks and orange fur wafted through the air. "Mmm. Warm kitty flesh!" he gurgled. Jack Russell paled. Even in his werewolf form he'd never done anything close to what Stingray was doing to Tigra.
Stingray had disembowled Tigra and was slurping up a rope of intestine. Each time he swallowed a piece he muttered an obscenity. Unholy rantings that Skull and Jack Russell could hardly bear to listen to.
Skull and Jack slowly approached Stingray from behind but a skittering rock loosed by Jack's shoe gave them away. Stingray twisted his head to confront them. His mask had been ripped away, revealing a horrific mockery of a human face. Shredded lips and hollowed cheeks, milky white eyes and the whole of it caked with blood. "Ah!" he hissed, "More meat! More converts for the hunger!"
Skull held out his hand. "Stay back," he warned, "We'll try to help you if we can."
"I don't need help," Stingray snarled, "I need meat!"
Stingray's words were hideously ironic because his stomach was gone. A gaping hole extended from the bottom of his ribcage to his waist. His flexing spinal cord could be seen through a tangle of chewed intestines that had just recently been a part of Tigra.
Skull was a hardened veteran of wars both ordinary and strange and he'd never seen anything like the abomination in front of him. He finally understood what it was that had so frightened Michael Morbius.
Stingray looked at Jack Russell. "The wolf boy!" he taunted, "I know you above all would embrace the hunger!"
Jack took a step forward, growling. He had learned to control the change. Learned to transform to his lupine form at will. He wanted to rip to shreds the monstrosity that had once been a hero.
"Don't even think about it." cautioned Skull as he fingered the amulet that hung around his neck.
"Then kill that foul thing!" begged Jack, "Kill it!"
A cold hand gripped Jack Russell's shoulder and shoved him aside. It was Simon Garth.
"Who's this?" cried Stingray, "You don't look so good! Maybe the hunger will cure what ails you!" Simon Garth said not a word.
Stingray was confused by Garth's indifference and poked his chest. "Hmm. You wouldn't taste good! Not fresh at all!"
Simon Garth reached out with his cold dead hands and grabbed Stingray's upper arms, pinioning them to his sides. "No fair!" cried Stingray, "Using a zombie to fight a zombie!" Garth began to squeeze.
Stingray's arm bones splintered with a dull crunch. Garth applied more pressure and Stingray's ribcage shattered in a wet explosion. Broken ribs speared through rotten flesh. Stingray's sternum fell away revealing a jiggling black heart. His blighted lungs burst and out rolled a stench so foul that even Garth recoiled from it. Garth relaxed his grip and moved his hands upwards to clasp Stingray's head. Stingray gnashed his jagged teeth, trying to bite Garth's fingers off.
"Wait!" called Skull. Simon Garth froze. "How did you get here?" Skull asked Stingray, "Are there others?"
Stingray chortled. "Of course there are others. All the supers are infected! Namor got me." He flicked a black tongue at Skull. "I was looking for boats full of meat when I saw your quinjet. I latched on and look where I ended up! A new world of meat all for me!"
Skull frowned. "No more for you." he said, motioning to Simon Garth.
"No, don't!" cried Stingray, "You don't know what you're missing!"
Simon Garth brought his hands together. Stingray's skull cracked and burst apart. Garth opened and closed his hands, squeezing pieces of bone and curls of brain through his fingers. Finally he stopped. Stingray's inert body dropped to the ground. Jack Russell no longer considered himself a monster. Nothing could top what he'd just seen.
Tigra sat up, a living corpse like Stingray. Her graceful feline features were freakishly distorted now that she was a zombie. She stuffed the remainder of her intestines back inside her savaged midsection and looked at her teammates. "I've been chosen to show you the hunger!" she purred, "Which one of you wants to go first?"
Skull and Jack Russell backed up cautiously.
"Don't run away!" chided Tigra. She sprang forward and landed on Simon Garth's shoulders, one hand resting on his head, the other holding her guts.
Garth reached up to snag Tigra but even in death she was lightning fast. She leapt at Skull but he countered her attack with a sweeping high kick that sent her flying. She slammed into a finger of jutting rock and slid to the ground in a broken heap.
Skull wore an alien power belt that magnified his natural strength. His mighty kick had staved in Tigra's ribs and the impact with the rock had shattered an arm.
Tigra held out her ruined arm. "Look what you did!" she hissed. Tigra twisted the useless arm and wrenched it free, biting through several stubborn tendons to finish the job. "Gah! I taste awful," she complained, spitting out pieces of her rotten flesh.
"So you want a piece of me?" Tigra said to Skull, "Here, take this!" She threw her severed arm at Skull and lunged at Jack Russell but an arc of flame knocked her backwards. Daimon Hellstrom had shot her with a bolt of soulfire from his mystical trident. Soulfire was an occult energy that caused intense pain when it came into contact with a life force. The zombified Tigra shrugged it off.
"I'm not alive, you fool!" Tigra snarled, "Try something else!"
Daimon Hellstrom frowned. He pointed his trident at Tigra and a blast of concussive force shot out, bludgeoning her to the ground.
"Please, Greer," begged Hellstrom, "Let me help you!"
"I'm beyond your help!" laughed Tigra, "The hunger is all I need!" She struggled to her feet. Her intestines had slithered out and entangled her legs.
"I don't need these anyway." grumbled Tigra as she reached inside her abdominal cavity. She tugged on her intestines where they were still attached, pulling them free with a bloody squelch. She tossed the useless innards away and glared at the Son of Satan. "Go ahead and kill me, you satanic whelp!" she screamed, "Send me to hell so I can spit in your father's face!"
Daimon Hellstrom hurled his trident at Tigra, running her through and pinning her to the ground. Tigra writhed in fury and tried to free herself but the weapon was anchored too deeply.
Skull hung his head. "Garth, end this now." he said. Simon Garth trudged over to Tigra and raised his booted foot over Tigra's face.
Tigra spit and cursed at him. "Do it you pathetic excuse for a zombie!"
"No!" said the Frankenstein monster. He rested a massive hand on Simon Garth's shoulder. Garth hesitated, his foot just seconds away from crushing Tigra's head. The monster's hand fell away. "Let me end this." he pleaded.
Skull understood. He and the others knew the Frankenstein monster had a soft spot for Tigra. Only she could coax a smile from him. When Tigra was in a playful mood she'd let the patchwork man stroke the fur on her back. He'd almost laugh when the inevitable purring began.
"Stand down, Simon." said Skull. Simon Garth turned and lumbered away.
The Frankenstein monster knelt over Tigra, snatching her wrist as she tried to rake him with her claws. "I am sorry, Greer," he said sadly, "You were my good friend."
Tigra sneered. "You filthy freak! I never liked you!"
"Do not struggle," said the Frankenstein monster, "I will bring you peace."
"No!" screamed Tigra, "Let me show you the glories of the hunger!"
The brutish heir to the legacy of Frankenstein raised a fist. The monster often thought of himself as the ultimate corruption of humanity, but he paled in comparison to the gibbering obscenity Tigra had become. He brought the fist down, smashing Tigra's head open like a rotten tooth.
The Frankenstein monster loosed an agonized roar that echoed through the Valley of Flame, startling birds into flight and giving pause to a young hominid perched on the back of a fiery red tyrannosaur.
Moon-Boy listened until the echo faded away. He had never heard the cry of such a beast!
Chapter Four
A hot wind whirled down the volcanic plain, adding fuel to the blazing funeral pyre that consumed Tigra and Stingray. The Frankenstein monster stood by the fire with with his head down. He hated fire but wanted to leap in after Tigra. He wanted their ashes to drift into the sky together. N'Kantu the Living Mummy tried to console his friend but he was also leery of the flames.
"Come," said N'Kantu, "Back away from the fire."
The Frankenstein monster grunted and continued to watch the flames.
"The fire consumes nothing but an evil vestige of your friend," said N'Kantu, "Greer herself has gone to a better place."
"We have company!" cried Jack Russell, pointing to a glint of silver that streaked throught the sky.
Skull the Slayer found the point of light and followed it with worried eyes. "Looks like a quinjet." he said.
"You think some of the Avengers made it?" asked Daimon Hellstrom.
Skull had been a warrior for too long. He sensed that a very bad situation had just gotten worse.
"That's what worries me," replied Skull with a frown, "We can't afford to let any of those things loose on this world."
The alternate Earth on which the Legion of Monsters had sought sanctuary had its share of dangers but nothing compared to the zombie plague. Skull drew his sword and studied its blade. "Let's check it out. If they're not friendly, you know what to do. No hesitating, no mercy."
The beast inside Jack Russell tried to claw its way out. Blood was in the air and the werewolf wanted his share. "Soon." Russell said to himself.
Skull flicked a switch and the quinjet powered up. "I'll put her in stealth mode," he said, "We don't want them to know we're coming."
Daimon Hellstrom took his seat beside Skull. "I'll run a scan." he added, pecking away at the console in front of him. Hellstrom was immediately rewarded with a beep. "Yeah, it's a quinjet."
Skull acknowledged Hellstrom with a nod. Going up against the Avengers was a losing proposition. There was a chance that whoever was on the other quinjet wasn't infected but Stingray's words left him little hope.
Jack Russell stood behind them. "Do you think they followed us here?" he asked.
Skull pondered the question. "I don't think they know we're here," he replied, "If they did, well, they'd be here."
Russell frowned. "That gives us an advantage, right?" he insisted.
"Normally, yes," answered Skull, "But you're talking about the Avengers. On the other hand, maybe we'll get lucky and none of the heavy hitters are on that quinjet."
Daimon Hellstrom strapped himself in. "You mean like Stingray?" he added. Stingray had been a reserve Avenger, a minor league hero with relatively trifling powers. And yet one of the Legion was dead because of him.
"Everyone settle in." ordered Skull. He turned and looked into the passenger cabin. N'Kantu was pulling the Frankenstein monster aboard. The monster looked defeated. Simon Garth had taken up his usual place in the rear of the cabin, his impassive face hidden in the shadows. Jack Russell was sitting down and visibly frustrated.
Jack pulled his restraints as tight as he could as if that would hold back the werewolf. The beast wanted out. Wanted revenge.
"We all want it, Jack," said Skull, "We all want revenge."
Jack Russell's only response was a low growl. He wanted to will the change but now was not the time. Soon the werewolf would be unleashed.
The quinjet lifted off, scattering the smoke coming from the dying funeral pyre and exposing the blackened skeletons of Stingray and Tigra. A lone carrion beast winged its way down and snatched up a charred bone. It quickly spat out the meal and shrieked in disgust. There were things even it wouldn't eat.
Chapter Five
At the far end of the Valley of Flame was a steep hill broken in two by a tumbling stream. From its summit Devil Dinosaur and Moon-Boy could see the village of the Small Folk spread out below them. "There, Devil!" cried Moon-Boy, "There is my village!" Devil growled and stomped his feet. He wanted to share in Moon-Boy's happiness but he knew the Small Folk did not want him around.
Something glinted in the sun, catching Moon-Boy's eye. "Look, Devil!" he shouted, "Look at the shining bird! It is the Strange Folk! They wait for us in the village! It will be good to see them again!"
Moon-Boy slid from Devil's flank and ran ahead in his excitement, bounding along a familiar trail that followed the water down its meandering course. Devil snorted and started after him. His nostrils flared as he caught a whiff of something foul. Something was terribly wrong. There was an evil loose in the village of the Small Folk. The scent was not that of the Killer Folk, it was the smell of death. Death that moved.
Skull the Slayer pushed aside the enormous fronds in front of him. The Legion of Monsters stood behind him. Their quinjet was parked miles behind them in an overgrown impact crater hidden by the surrounding jungle. The crater was ancient and strewn with half-buried bones, fragments of eggshell and surprisingly, the remains of a rusted robotic body. Skull had given the junked robot a puzzled glance. Then he'd shrugged. That particular mystery would have to wait.
The Legion of Monsters had made an arduous trek through the clotted jungle that Skull insisted was necessary to maintain the element of surprise. Now the members of the Legion were glad they'd listened to him. Before them were the remains of a village recently plundered. On the outskirts of the village sat a familiar quinjet, one of the pair Stark Industries had bequeathed the Legion of Monsters.
The inhabitants of the village were dead, ripped to pieces and scattered about. Cackling ghouls splashed through pools of blood, snatching up meat like it was gold. Innards were sucked down whole and strips of meat were ripped from hairy limbs, skulls were cracked open and brains devoured.
"Those are not the Avengers." whispered Jack Russell.
The zombies in the village were definitely not Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Skull noted a trio of Spider-Man villains: Electro and the Rhino sat in the dirt and gobbled down chunks of bloody meat while the Vulture glided above them, casually munching on a garland of slimy intestines.
Captain America's foe Batroc the Leaper was there, shorn of his left arm and using his right to pluck meaty fruit from inside a disembodied torso. The mercenary called the Taskmaster was greedily sucking marrow from rent bones. The master assassin Bullseye, long a nemesis of Daredevil, stood in the center of the village with his face buried in some hapless villager's heart. Skull couldn't help but look away.
Daimon Hellstrom nudged Skull and pointed to the other side of the village where a stream wended its way down a stony hill.
Just before the stream reached the village, its course was turned by a low ridge that boasted a sentinel-like boulder. Perched on the giant rock was the troubled and once beautiful thief known as the Black Cat. Blood stained her flowing white hair and a jagged wound could be seen on her thigh. Like the others in the village, she was one of the living dead.
A furry dot bounded down the hill, rushing madly towards the village. The Black Cat raised her arm and a cable snaked from a wrist gauntlet, its hooked end snagging the little hominid. The Legion members could hear it squeal as the Black Cat reeled it in.
Moon-Boy grew more excited as he ran down the hill. He saw one of the Strange Folk crouched on the big rock that watched over his village. The Strange Folk was a woman and she had long white hair streaked with red. An elder perhaps?
The woman threw a vine at Moon-Boy and snared him, stinging his flesh. Moon-Boy squealed in pain and thought of the deadly snakes that slithered through the jungle. "Devil!" shouted Moon-Boy, "Help me!"
"You're a noisy little thing!" laughed the Black Cat. She had reeled in her catch and was holding him tightly in her hands. Moon-Boy mewed in terror. The Black Cat licked what remained of her lips. This was one treat she wasn't going to share with the others!
Moon-Boy closed his eyes and whispered a prayer to the gods. With a cackle the zombified Black Cat bent over him and began to feed.
"This is crazy!" cried Jack Russell, "She's eating that little guy!"
Skull grabbed Russell's arm. "It's too late, we can't save him." he said bluntly.
"Look there!" cried Daimon Hellstrom. A red blur was racing down the hill. A red blur with teeth.
The Black Cat dropped Moon-Boy's corpse and looked up as Devil Dinosaur roared and leaped at her. "Big red dinosaur." she said in amazement. Devil landed squarely on the Black Cat, crushing her beneath his clawed feet. But he was too late. Moon-Boy was dead.
The Black Cat held her head up. Her body was pulped under Devil Dinosaur's foot, her entrails splayed like dead snakes on the bloodsoaked boulder.
"Look what you did to me, you beast!" she said, spitting a piece of Moon-Boy at Devil Dinosaur. Devil snorted in disgust and anger. With a flick of his clawed foot he skewered the Black Cat's face and brain, ending her hunger forever. Devil shook his foot but the Black Cat's head was stuck on his claw. He growled and scraped his foot on the rock, grinding her head to a foul paste, white hairs clinging to his foot like strands of bloody cotton.
"Incredible!" exclaimed Daimon Hellstrom, "I know that creature! They call him Devil!"
"No more talking!" cried Jack Russell, "Now we kill them!"
Then Russell was gone, sprouting hair and claws and loping towards the devastated village. Skull motioned for the Legion of Monsters to follow Russell. The battle was joined.
Devil Dinosaur nuzzled Moon-Boy's still form and whimpered. His friend was gone. He was alone.
Moon-Boy's eyes snapped open, milky white orbs fixing on Devil.
"My friend! The hunger is good!" cried Moon-Boy.
A low moan escaped Devil as he stomped on the thing that had once been Moon-Boy. Then he lifted his massive head and glowered at the village of the Small Folk. More of the evil ones were gathered there, feasting on Moon-Boy's people. Devil loosed a vengeful cry that rivaled the fire mountain's roar. The evil ones were going to die.
Chapter Six
Bullseye tossed away the heart he'd been devouring. Devil Dinosaur's great howl had distracted him from his bloodlust.
"Did that big red dinosaur just stomp all over the Cat?" he asked.
Taskmaster laughed. "Yeah, more for us!"
Bullseye snarled. "Hey, me and the Cat had some good times when we were alive! Rhino, take him out!"
The Rhino grumbled something obscene. The thought of battling a tyrannosaurus rex appealed to him.
"Wait!" hissed the Taskmaster, "Look over there." He drew his sword and pointed it towards the edge of the jungle where six figures had emerged. One, covered with fur and flashing claws, was racing ahead of the other five.
"I told you they'd probably be here." came a voice from the quinjet.
"Jack!" cried Skull the Slayer, "Wait for us!"
Skull knew that they'd been spotted. The Taskmaster had drawn his blade. The Rhino had been heading for the other side of the village, probably to engage the red tyrannosaur. Now he turned and faced the Legion, an evil smile slashed on his rotting face. Skull had just reached the edge of the village when he saw a dark form soar from inside the quinjet. The figure was instantly recognizable. Things had just gotten a lot worse.
"So good to see you again, Skull." shouted Morbius the Living Vampire as he swooped towards his former teammate.
Skull said nothing in return. He preferred to attack. His alien power belt glowed and he felt a familiar surge of energy. With a great leap Skull rose to meet Morbius head on. He could see his friend's death-twisted face grinning insanely. How awful it must be for a vampire turned zombie!
Morbius reached out for Skull with bone-tipped fingers, the flesh on his hands receding like a foul tide. "The hunger for meat is greater than the hunger for blood!" cackled Morbius, "Join me, Skull! You'd make a fine addition to..."
Skull swung his sword in a wide arc, severing one of Morbius' outstretched arms and lopping off the top of his head. Morbius' skull cap spun away, the upper half of his brain spilling out like an oyster plucked from its shell. Morbius had finally found his cure.
"Well, that was anti-climatic!" laughed Bullseye, "So much for the vampire contingent!"
"Watch it, we have company!" said the Taskmaster, "And he's an ugly one!"
"Who do we have here?" snarled Bullseye as Simon Garth loomed over him. "Which one are you again?" asked the assassin, "The monster or the zombie?"
Garth's only response was silence, his cold hands hanging at his sides. With a flash Bullseye pulled a knife and slashed Garth's throat.
"Well, that's not good." said the Taskmaster as Garth's neck wound magically healed.
Garth lifted his hands and grabbed Bullseye's neck. He jerked and Bullseye's head came free of his body like a sapling being wrenched from the ground. Holding the head in both hands, Garth dashed it against a knee, brains and brackish blood cascading down his leg.
The ground thundered. The Rhino slammed into Simon Garth with such force that Garth was launched into the air towards the distant treeline. Only the cawing of bird-things marked Garth's passing as the jungle swallowed him whole.
"Goal!" shouted the Rhino as he watched Garth's broken form sail through the trees. A flash of gold caught the Rhino's attention just his face was skewered by Daimon Hellstrom's trident.
The blinded Rhino scrabbled furiously at the trident, trying to pull it free. Then, comically, he stumbled and fell forward, driving it through his skull. The bloodied weapon was stuck like a flagpole in the Rhino's thick head, capped by a bit of scalp that quivered in the breeze.
"Give my regards to my father, villain!" said Daimon Hellstrom with a curse.
"Daimon, watch yourself!" cried Skull the Slayer. His warning came too late as Batroc the Leaper jumped the Son of Satan from behind.
"Say hello to the hunger, mon ami!" laughed Batroc as he bit down on Daimon Hellstrom's shouder, ripping out a chunk of bloody muscle. Hellstrom screamed as the hunger invaded him. "No sense in struggling!" said Batroc, "The hunger cannot be escaped!"
Daimon Hellstrom gritted his teeth. He faltered as the hunger battled his unique body chemistry. Batroc still clung to him like a cancer, not wanting to release his victim until the hunger claimed victory.
"Dammit!" snapped Skull. He started towards Daimon but an undead villager barred his way. Furiously Skull lashed out with his sword, beheading the slavering hominid.
Skull knew it was too late for Daimon Hellstrom. The hunger spared no flesh. Skull wouldn't let that happen to his friend.
Daimon Hellstrom screamed as the hunger took over. He could see Skull the Slayer trying to reach him. His lip curled in anticipation. How good Skull would taste! "No!" cried Daimon, "I will not give in! Father take me!"
With a crack of imploding air and a burst of oily smoke, Daimon Hellstrom disappeared. Batroc the Leaper exploded in a gout of fire and ash. The smell of brimstone rolled over the village, mixing with the coppery taint of blood and the scent of fear.
Jack Russell watched as Daimon Hellstrom vanished. The scent of his teammate's passing rankled his lupine senses. A curtain of red embraced Jack as he gave in completely to the Werewolf. The hunger was going to pay.
A zombified villager lurched towards the Werewolf, one bloodied hand stretched out. It chattered in its native language, no doubt speaking of the glories of the hunger. The Werewolf lunged at the pathetic little creature, claws raking putrid flesh. The villager's jaw went flying. Another slash and its face was ripped open. The Werewolf howled in delight as it tore the little zombie to pieces.
"That was one of my children!" bellowed the Vulture as he flew down to confront the Werewolf. He landed and held out his arms, inviting the Werewolf to attack. The Werewolf obliged by lashing out with his claws. In the blink of an eye the Vulture was disemboweled, his guts sloshing to the ground like fish from an overturned bucket.
"Sorry, but those aren't exactly vital anymore!" sneered the Vulture. The Werewolf howled in frustration and tore open the Vulture's rib cage.
"Teeth are all I need!" said the Vulture as he snagged one of the Werewolf's flailing hands, biting off two fingers. The Werewolf screamed in pain. "Welcome to the hunger!" laughed the Vulture. The Werewolf dropped to the ground and hurtled away, clutching his hand and trailing blood.
Skull the Slayer brought his sword down, splitting open the head of another zombie villager. He watched the wounded Werewolf vanish behind a cluster of huts. His team was falling fast. He had to finish it.
Skull's blade flashed again. Another zombified hominid was beheaded. Skull skewered the head in midair, ending the ghoul's hunger. Skull was furious now and his alien power belt glowed more than it ever had before.
Skull focused his rage on the Taskmaster. The faceless villain was his to kill.
The Vulture floated in the air and patted his ribcage back into place. "You're one of us, now!" he called after the Werewolf, "One with the hunger!" He felt a tug on his ankle and looked down. N'Kantu the Living Mummy glowered back.
"Your reign of terror is over, fiend!" rasped N'Kantu.
The Vulture spit out the Werewolf's fingers and laughed. "No, yours is about to begin!"
"Your disease will find no purchase in my dessicated flesh." replied N'Kantu as he pulled the Vulture down to the ground.
The Living Mummy took the Vulture's head in his hands. He began to squeeze. The Vulture felt his skull crack. "Enough!" he cried as he batted N'Kantu's hands away. "Welcome the hunger!"
The Vulture snapped his head forward, his teeth biting into N'Kantu's shoulder. N'Kantu looked at the ragged bite wound. He felt an odd sensation as the hunger coursed through his dry flesh. Could he be infected?
N'Kantu felt the hunger dying inside him as his dead flesh repulsed it. An almost evil smile crossed his bandaged face. "I am already cursed," he said to the Vulture, "So your hunger rejects me." N'Kantu grabbed the Vulture's loose rib cage and ripped it free, exposing his rotten innards. "Now I will end your hunger!"
"You most certainly will not!" said the Vulture. He kicked N'Kantu away and flapped his wings, trying desperately to get away.
N'Kantu lunged forward, his arms encircling the Vulture's waist. The Vulture struggled but N'Kantu refused to let go. "And so the Mummy had a great fall!" cackled the Vulture as he flew higher into the sky until both he and N'Kantu were obscured by a haze of volcanic smoke.
The Frankenstein monster strode through the devastated village. He had seen his share of carnage but nothing compared to the horror of the zombie infestation. He had watched his teammates fall one by one. First the tragic Morbius, than Simon, Daimon, Jack and now N'Kantu.
Skull the Slayer was still alive and was moving to confront the zombified Taskmaster. Electro was hurling bolts of electricity at the red tyrannosaur, trying to keep the enraged creature at bay. The dinosaur skirted the edge of the village, taunting Electro by taking shelter behind trees and huts. Electro laughed maniacally as his bolts set the village ablaze. If not for the dampness of the jungle, it too would have become an inferno.
"You!" grunted the Frankenstein monster, "Time to die!"
Electro turned and stared at the Frankenstein monster with an evil smirk. He was missing an eye and most of one cheek was gone.
"Die?" said Electro, "Already done that!" He held his palms out as if to ward off the Frankenstein monster. "Chew on this!" he laughed as he unleashed another barrage of electricity.
Jagged bolts of power ripped into the Frankenstein monster. Electro let his hands drop and the currents of electricity faded away. The Frankenstein monster still stood. His clothing was smoking but he was othewise unharmed. In fact, the monster looked stronger than ever before.
"Oh, crap." said Electro.
"There is a reason I picked you." said the Frankenstein monster, "Electricity makes me strong!"
The monster backhanded Electro's head, knocking it off. A single jet of black blood squirted from the wound as Electro's body spasmed and flopped to the ground. The Frankenstein monster followed Electro's tumbling head like a football player running after an errant ball. Catching up to the head, he ground it to a paste, grinning with satisfaction as Electro's brains oozed out from beneath his boots.
The Frankenstein monster hurried towards Skull the Slayer and the Taskmaster. They were locked in deadly combat and the Taskmaster seemed to be winning. He stopped to stare at the corpse of the Rhino. The Rhino's body was still twitching as if his extremities had yet to receive the news that he was well and truly dead. The Frankenstein monster reached out and plucked Daimon Hellstrom's trident from the Rhino's head. With a plunge of his foot he crushed the Rhino's skull. The twitching stopped. "That was for Simon." declared the monster.
Hefting Daimon Hellstrom's trident, the Frankenstein monster closed ranks with Skull.
High in the sky the struggle between the Vulture and N'Kantu the Living Mummy continued.
"Let go of me you cursed thing!" cried the Vulture, "I must be free to spread the hunger!"
N'Kantu hooked an arm around the Vulture's neck. The Vulture increased his struggles. Suddenly his wings were buoyed by an updraft of hot air. The Vulture looked down. The maw of the volcano beckoned, reaching out with bubbling tendrils of lava.
"If there's one thing I learned from old movies," laughed the Vulture, "It's that mummies can't stand the heat!"
The Vulture kicked at N'Kantu, trying to dislodge him.
The Living Mummy smiled one last time. "Yes, it is time for both of us to burn."
N'Kantu reached inside the Vulture, grabbing hold of his spinal cord. He twisted the bony column, wrenching it almost in two. The Vulture's legs went limp.
"Stop!" cried the Vulture, "The hunger begs you!"
N'Kantu pulled harder on the spinal cord and the Vulture's head lolled. His arms flopped uselessly, folding his wings and sending both of them plunging towards the mouth of the volcano.
N'Kantu closed his eyes. The heat felt good, even as it burned him. The paralyzed Vulture could only manage guttural cries of terror. Then they both vanished into the lava with a sizzle.
Skull the Slayer parried a blow from the Taskmaster's sword. Behind the villain, in the distance, Skull saw the tiny forms of the Vulture and N'Kantu vanish into the mouth of the volcano.
"Good for you, buddy." thought Skull with sadness.
"Getting tired?" taunted the Taskmaster, "I can keep this up all day!"
Skull grinned. "I've been doing this for a long time. Don't count me out yet!"
"I already know all your moves!" snarled the Taskmaster, referring to his photographic reflexes, "I can take you any time!"
Skull cursed and lunged at The Taskmaster but the villain deftly blunted the offensive. The Taskmaster pivoted on one foot, kicking Skull's legs out from underneath him with the other. Skull landed on his back, dazed. His sword lay just out of reach.
The Taskmaster poked Skull's chest with his sword. "You're a prime candidate for the hunger!" he threatened, "But I really don't want the competition!"
Skull knew he was seconds away from death. Then the Taskmaster jerked as his chest was ran through by Daimon Hellstrom's trident.
The Frankenstein monster stood behind the Taskmaster, a savage look on his face. He twisted the trident and the Taskmaster dropped his sword and shield.
Skull got up and dusted himself off. "It's over!" he snarled at the zombified villain, "I'm going to burn you for what you've done!"
The Taskmaster grinned. "Can't I have a few last words?" he asked.
Skull paused and then nodded warily.
"Sonic hand grenade." said the Taskmaster.
Blam!
Skull's ears rang. The Taskmaster was infamous for his varied weapons, including sonic grenades. Skull never should have hesitated. The Frankenstein monster stood next to Skull, holding Daimon Hellstrom's trident. "He's gone." stated the monster.
Skull shook his head. "I see him." he said, pointing towards the quinjet. The Taskmaster saluted them and vanished inside.
"It's too late. There is no time to stop him." insisted the Frankenstein monster as the quinjet powered up. But Skull the Slayer was already running. The monster looked down at his hands. The trident was gone.
Skull knew he wasn't going to make it. His alien power belt was glowing again but even that wouldn't make him fast enough. Then a red blur bounded across the village. It was the tyrannosaur, the one called Devil.
Devil Dinosaur leaped and snagged the quinjet's wing in his dagger-like teeth, holding on with his powerful jaws. The quinjet sagged and keeled over, causing Devil to lose his grip. The great saurian dropped to the ground with a roar as the quinjet righted itself. The engines were done powering up. The Taskmaster was going to escape.
Skull had one chance. His belt was glowing white hot. He hurled the trident as hard as he could. A sonic boom rocked the Valley of Flame as Daimon Hellstrom's trident broke the sound barrier. A split second later it pierced the quinjet's fuel cells. The quinjet disintegrated in a massive explosion that knocked even the Frankenstein monster off his feet. Flaming debris rained down, pelting the survivors.
The monster sat up and swatted a burning ember from his coat. The whole village seemed to be ablaze. Through the smoke he could see Skull the Slayer wandering in a daze. The giant red dinosaur was sniffing the air and growling. The Frankenstein monster's eyes caught a furtive movement. Something else was still alive in the blasted village and it was headed straight for Skull.
Skull's head throbbed. The Taskmaster's sonic grenade and the exploding quinjet had done a number on him. His ears rang and the smoke from the fires stung his eyes. Skull knew he was in no shape to fight and hoped the battle was over.
The Werewolf slipped from a cloud of roiling smoke like a phantom, milky white eyes focused on Skull. He was one with the hunger, a zombie.
"Take it easy, Jack." said Skull in a low voice, steadying himself as the ground started to shake.
The zombified Werewolf ignored Skull's plea and snarled, baring his fangs. The earth below their feet ceased its rumbling. The Werewolf jerked his head sideways as Devil Dinosaur looked down at him with furious eyes. Devil brayed and whipped his tail around, broadsiding the Werewolf and sending him flying.
The Werewolf landed in a jumbled heap, his spine shattered. Skull locked eyes with Devil Dinosaur. "Finish him off." he said wearily.
Devil understood. He thundered over to the mangled Werewolf and raised a giant foot. The Werewolf lifted his head, hissing and gurgling blood. Skull closed his eyes. He had seen enough horrors for the day.
Chapter Seven
Skull the Slayer sat on a rock and watched the funeral pyre burn. The Frankenstein monster tossed another load of body parts in the fire. Devil Dinosaur squatted nearby, head tilted, entranced by the ashes floating in the air. Every once in a while he would blow on the ashes to scatter them. Perhaps he was sending Moon-Boy on his way to the spirit world?
Devil Dinosaur was a curiosity to Skull. Like Daimon Hellstrom, Skull had studied data shared with the Legion of Monsters by the Fantasic Four and others.
Skull recalled that the big red tyrannosaur and a humanoid companion had somehow been transported to the present. After some initial confusion, followed by a shared adventure or two, Reed Richards had sent the dinosaur and his friend back to their own time. Skull now understood that the alternate Earth he and the Legion had escaped to was Devil's home.
But that in itself was a mystery for Skull had been to Devil's world before. In fact, he'd been trapped on it for several years. Skull had found his alien power belt on one of his many adventures there. He had battled robots and other anachronistic threats, as well as scores of mighty dinosaurs, though he'd never run into Devil. What a crazy quilt world it was!
Skull had decided to leave Devil's world. It had been a mistake to run and hide. He wanted to return to his own world and avenge it. He would retrieve the Golem and try to find the other members of the Legion of Monsters. If Stingray's words were true, Skull knew he would probably die. He was no match for the likes of the Avengers or the Fantastic Four. But he had fought too many battles for his world. He would not abandon it.
A cold hand gripped Skull's shoulder from behind. "Good to see you again, Simon." said Skull with a smile.
Simon Garth looked none the worse for his encounter with the Rhino. No matter what bodily damage Simon incurred, the magic that had created him always healed him. Skull figured Simon could withstand just about anything short of a nuclear explosion. And maybe even that.
The Frankenstein monster turned from the fire. He was glad to be done with his work. "That is all of the bodies," he said to Skull, "And Devil says none escaped."
Devil Dinosaur snorted and pawed at the ground. He was anxious to leave the blighted village. "We will leave soon enough, my friend," said the Frankenstein monster, "But first I must say goodbye."
"Goodbye?" asked Skull, "You're not coming with me?"
"No, I will stay here with Devil," said the monster, "He needs a friend and I like this world. And now that Simon has returned, you will not be alone."
Skull nodded. Baron Frankenstein's ungainly creation was a good fit for Devil's world.
Devil Dinosaur and the Frankenstein monster were leaving the Valley of Flame when the quinjet roared overhead. The monster stopped and watched it rocket away into the distance. Then he turned and patted Devil's leg. "Come my friend," he said, "Show me the wonders of this world!"
Elsewhere, in the dimension known as Hell, the fallen angel called Satan waited impatiently. He stood on a spire of flame-scorched rock and watched with milky white eyes as demons of all types gathered below him. Their one shared trait was their desire to spread the hunger to other realms.
Satan raised his arms to silence the hordes of demonic zombies. "The hunger is great!" he cried. A zombified Daimon Hellstrom stood beside his father. Together they would lead their army of the dead. No world would be spared the hunger.