Crossover

Chapter One

Written by J. Donavan Edmond

The hall was empty, as the android entered. Its metallic feet echoed off the sleek, black stone walls, barren of any adornment as one might expect of an individual whose every moment was spent seeking a solitary goal. The audio receptors of the android detected a constant clacking sound coming from the far end of the chamber where a massive desk sat on a pedestal. The automaton approached the desk with a constant and confident stride. Perhaps, for the moment, the individual behind the desk was its master, but the android still was who it was.

"Brainiac." said the man behind the desk as he continued to concentrate on whatever he was typing on his computer.

The android stopped four meters from the pedestal and stood with its feet shoulder-length apart and its metallic hands clasped behind his back. "Sir." It said coldly.

"How goes the war?"

"War, sir?" Brainiac asked.

"It's an expression, Brainiac." The robot's leader said, looking up from the screen, "I guess I'm forgetting who I'm talking to. I'm not really used to alien robots. What I meant was: 'How are things progressing with the plan?'"

"Ah, of course. They go well, actually. All goes according to schedule. However, there are some issues."

"What's up?" The leader asked, nonchalantly, a fact that somewhat irked Brainiac's computerized logic.

"Ah, yes." The android began, "As you well know, sir, there are currently three camps of the followers you have gathered and two of these camps are primarily responsible for furthering your goals."

"Yeah, the science types and the magic types." The leader said as he reached into a nearby mini fridge and opened a can of Diet Pepsi.

"Er, yes, well those particular groups seem to be having a slight lack of deference when they interact."

"And I imagine you are here representing the interests of the science folk?"

"No, sir." Responded the android, "I have, in fact, seen the logic in your plan and am interested in completing it fully. Therefore, I am willing to work with those individuals who wield mystic power no matter how irrational such powers may seem to me. Regardless of my background, I am willing to accept that magic is simply a different form of science, albeit one with incomprehensible properties. However, I have found that some of the others are unwilling to compromise their philosophy in an effort to rule their respective universes. I believe that they are failing to see the end goal for what it is. I believe we may need a better motivation."

The leader leaned back in his chair as he took a long pull from his soda and smiled as he set down the can. "Oh, Brainiac," He said with a condescending grin, "Don't you know that I have provided motivation for those individuals."

"In what manner?" Brainiac asked, fearing that it would not like the answer.

"That third camp, there: the muscle."

"The muscle?"

The leader leaned forward and his face contorted into a more sinister smile by merely angling downward. "You know who I'm talking about, Brainiac, the folks who would seem to have no place in the brain trust I have assembled. They're the motivation for anyone who doesn't want to play ball. Remember, I control the rules in this place and my rules say that they are bad ass and the smart folks are wussy. The muscle, Brainiac. Use them as your motivation. Anyone who doesn't want to cooperate? Kill them."

Had Brainiac been a lesser being, a being of flesh, a being of emotion, it might have feared this leader. An individual who would go to such efforts to gather the forces at his disposal and was willing to sacrifice any one of them simply to motivate the others bode of someone with unimaginable power who was completely insane. Had Brainiac not made dozens of deals with mad devils of every imaginable type in his existence, it might have chosen to leave; the leader had informed those gathered that they could leave anytime they wished. However, a being with as much power at his disposal as this one had and who offered what he did could not be ignored.

Brainiac acquiesced: "Understood, sir. It shall be done."

The man behind the desk smiled, pleasently. "Thanks, Brainy! Any more problems, you let me know."


The monster was called a "Humbaba". It was a throwback to ancient Assyrian mythology that had, supposedly, been killed by the hero Gilgamesh. Unfortunately, a modern-day sorceress who called herself "Ereshkigal" happened upon a tome that told how to bring the Humbaba back to life and use it to destroy the world. Fortunately, the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense caught wind of Ereshkigal's plot and sent a team to the undersea Temple of Asag to stop her. Hellboy lead the team and was facing off alone against the Humbaba who, after having his left eye gouged out, was really, really angry.

The creature reared back its bloodied lion-like head and bellowed. Hellboy covered his ears as the monster's wail echoed throughout the chamber and into the next. The massive red hero hoped his allies were smart enough to do the same as he watched Ereshkigal's head explode from the sound. The Humbaba ceased roaring and fell into a stance that let Hellboy know the monster wasn't finished yet.

"I gotta tell you, buddy," Hellboy said as he readied himself for another round, "All you ancient Mesopotamian horrors with your stupid powers really piss me off."

With a battle roar as its only response, the Humbaba leapt at the heroic demon, its sword-like claws slashing for Hellboy's crimson flesh. The hero side-stepped the monster's clumsy attack and caught its leg in his stony right hand as it passed. Swinging, Hellboy slammed the ancient beast into a column, cracking the massive stone support in half. The entire room creaked as the column strained to continue holding the entirety of the ancient temple in place. As the Humbaba tried to get back on its feat, a gigantic stone block fell from the ceiling and crushed the monster's skull. Other stones began to fall as the temple began to collapse.

Hellboy turned from the creature and ran for the room's exit. The rumbling as the ancient sanctuary tore itself apart caused the hero to stumble. Rolling with the fall, Hellboy looked up just in time to see the arch above the door collapse completely and block his only escape. The demon eyed the former doorway for half a second and then looked up.

"Oh crap." He muttered.

The hero twisted his massive body into a leap and narrowly escaped a block which shattered on his former resting place. As he awkwardly landed on his chin, a glint of metal caught his eye. His pistol, the one the Torch of Liberty had given him, lay within arm's reach. He grabbed it and stuffed it into the holster, determining that, if he lived, he would still have his lucky weapon and, if he died, well, no one would be able to admonish him for his pathetic sentimentality.

Hellboy rolled onto his back and leapt up. He searched the room for some escape, fully aware that, any second now, the sea would begin to flood the chamber and he would be done for. Dodging another stone, Hellboy began to fear that this might be his end. Finding himself near the Humbaba's lifeless husk, Hellboy eyed the monster's body.

"Well, looks like you managed to pull off what every other ugly, freak, monster god hasn't," The demon said as looking down on his deceased opponent, "You took out the big... what the hell?"

Suddenly, a blue light engulfed the form of the monster and began to glow brighter. Hellboy reeled from the brilliance, instinctively protecting his eyes from the searing flash. As he did so, a wave of force collided with his body causing the demon to momentarily think that the sea must have exploded into the chamber and that he was going to drown. However, the impact was soon followed by a sensation of falling that lasted longer than the demon thought it should have.

Okay, Red, Hellboy thought, Anytime your eyes are closed when an op goes south and you open them, you see something that you wish you hadn't. Still, it might be better than not seeing something that eats you so...

The hero opened his eyes and looked down just in time to see the 17th-century galleon covered in zombies through the thick fog below him.

Crashing to the deck of the ship, Hellboy had the wind knocked out of him long enough to be covered by the undead monsters that swarmed the vessel's surface. The monstrous adventurer struggled to push the hungry creatures off him, but to no avail. Although the zombies' teeth could not break through Hellboy's tough hide, the weight of them, coupled with the force of his impact, was proving to be a strain on the ship's deck wood. It creaked in complaint as the heroic demon struggled to move.

"Sorry, chaps," a voice said from beyond the sea of undead teeth and flesh, "I don't think the red fella's on the menu tonight."

Three of the zombies fell away, headless, in the flash of a cutlass swipe. Able to find leverage, Hellboy rolled forward and used his momentum to leap from the collapsing floorboards to more secure footing. A pile of zombies fell into the bowels of the ship as the floor gave way and the demon managed to remove the last few from his body and toss them overboard before turning to face his savior. As he spun, however, he found himself staring down the business end of a flintlock pistol.

"Well, well, what 'ave we 'ere?" the man said. If ever there was an individual Hellboy could call a pirate, this man would be it. He wore leather boots folded over to his ankle and a sash that caught the wind and flowed behind him. The man's long coat hung open and beneath it, a loose shirt was unbuttoned to show the man's chest. His face was wind-worn and he had a beard that sported a number of long, beaded braids beneath his chin. The captain's hat and the two gold teeth completed the picture of everything Hellboy had always believed a swashbuckler should look like. The man smiled a wry grin, "I'm guessin' I know who you been sent by and I'm more'n willin' to have you go tell Davy Jones to piss on it. However, at this time, I find myself in a limited spot fer negotiations and am therefore willin' to work something out, savvy?"

"Listen, pal," Hellboy said as he swatted the pistol away, "I don't know what you got against the Monkees, but if yer sayin' that you wanna work together to deal with these zombies, say no more."

With that, the mighty demon swung his right hand and shattered the skull of an approaching undead. At the same time, the pirate swiveled and fired a shot through the throat of another zombie. Hellboy drew his pistol and began firing, each shot decapitated another walking dead. At the same time, the flamboyant warrior who had greeted the demon continued hacking away at the creatures while rhythmically loading his pistols and firing them. After a short time, the deck of the ship was nearly free of undead.

Hellboy turned to the pirate, "Are there more below deck?"

"Where, pray tell, can I get one of those?" The pirate said ignoring the demon's question and staring at the pistol in his left hand.

"Come on, buddy, focus!" the massive red hero hollered.

"Just the ones you dropped there." The pirate replied before adding: "Is that German?"

"Damn. We better deal with those ones, too."

"... or maybe French..."

"Where did they come from? How did I get here?"

"... I know, it's Danish!"

"Where is here?"

"... couldn't be English..."

Hellboy finally had had enough and grabbed the pirate by the lapel. "Who are you?!" he yelled.

The man blinked twice at the demon before meticulously extracting himself from the stone grip of Hellboy's right hand and straitened out his coat as he walked two paces away. When he had reached a safe distance, the man spun on his heel and removed his hat with a flourish and a bow. "The name is Captain Jack Sparrow." he said expectingly. There was a pause before the pirate raised his head to see Hellboy's reaction; a reaction that clearly displeased the pirate. He added: "You've heard of me, no?"

"No."

Taking this news of his lack of fame like a blow to the skull, Captain Jack reeled from the experience, seemingly barely able to return his hat to his head. The pirate, clearly in a state of advanced inebriation, stumbled backwards to rest on a crate. Finally, he seemed to have a realization ignite in his head: "You must be from some far off land." He said using his hat to indicate the distance, "That's the only way you wouldn't've heard of Captain Jack Sparrow. Where're you from?"

"Same place this gun is from." Hellboy replied.

"China!" the pirate exclaimed with a brief moment of understanding before saying, "No, that wouldn't be nearly far enough."

"No, jackass. America."

Hellboy was met with a blank stare. "Well, that's where we are now," Sparrow replied, "The Americas."

"No, the United States of America. You know, the most powerful nation on the planet... technologically advanced society lead by Neanderthals... America."

Jack Sparrow looked at Hellboy as though he were seven feet tall and bright red with a tail and broken horns. After a few seconds of this, a realization struck the demon.

"What year is this?"

"Well, last I looked at a calender, which was quite some time ago, the year was 1693."

"Crud, then you've never heard of the USA."

"Right, don't go spellin' things around me." Sparrow said, "I don't trust spellers."

"Alright," Hellboy said with some resignation, "First things first: let's deal with those flesh-eaters below deck and then we can figure out how to get me home."

The demon moved towards the hole that had been made in the deck of the ship with caution. He heard Captain Jack take a few steps behind him and then stop suddenly.

"Oh, bugger." The pirate swore from behind Hellboy.

"What now...?" The demon began as he turned and saw the massive cliff face into which the ship was about to collide. "Oh, crap." He continued.

As the vessel careened towards the rocks, Hellboy could sense a glow from behind him. He turned to see the same bluish-white luminescence that had emanated from the Humbaba coming from the hole in the deck. In one swift movement, he grabbed Sparrow's coat while saying: "Come on!" and leapt into the light. This time, Hellboy managed to keep his eyes open and was astonished by what he saw. All around him were images from a myriad of locations, many of which had strange and wonderful things going on. All of them were surrounded by a frame of pure light the same color as the light into which Hellboy had hurled himself and the pirate. Below, another scene, one that looked like the busy streets of Manhattan, rushed up to greet the duo.

The pair slammed into a taxi cab and bounced to the street. Shaking his head, Hellboy looked to see if the pirate had survived. Jack Sparrow was already on his feet and was clearly livid.

"What the hell did ye do that for? I've been in tougher spots!" He admonished.

"Well, I didn't hear you coming up with any good plans." Hellboy retorted.

"Well, I didn't have time, did I? I was already thinking..." Jack seemed to notice his surroundings, "Where the bloody hell are we, anyways?"

"New York, in my time." Hellboy answered as he stood and looked around, "42nd Street and Madison if I'm not mis... what the hell?"

A building caught the demon's eye. He had been down this block a hundred times, but he had never noticed the marvel of architecture that stood before him. It towered over the nearby buildings and its gleaming silver exterior seemed to contrast the pollution-stained structures nearby. Hellboy stared at the nameplate on the building before reading it out loud.

"Baxter Building."

"You've been 'ere?" Jack Sparrow said as he stepped forward to stand next to the crimson-skinned goliath.

"No, I never could have been." The demon said coming to a realization.

"That's too bad, mate." Sparrow replied, "'Cause I was hopin' ye might know those fellas."

Hellboy turned to see at least a dozen men and women in colorful and unusual costumes staring at the two of them, each wielding some sort of weapon or at least emanating a different form of energy. The one in the lead wore gold and red armor that seemed to fit close to his skin. He hovered in the air several yards from the two unwitting travelers and had his palm raised in their direction.

"Unregistered superhumans," Said the machine-like voice of the armored man, "In the name of the United States, S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers, surrender or be taken down with extreme prejudice!"

"Bugger." Said Jack.

"Crap." Said Hellboy.

End Chapter One