Doctor Krow


Remnant: Chapter One


London, England. July 4th, 1896


London could be quite the scary place, if you look hard enough.

There were many different causes for such horror, no doubt. The large city was full of out of work men, men who were more than willing to kill a less fortunate chap for whatever small amount of shillings they had on them. The depression was bearing down full force, forcing even the rightest of men to fear being evicted from their homes and onto the street into the pouring rain.

Now, even in this desolate housing area deep within the confines of the city, the large buildings housing all these poor, starving people loomed over the cobblestone pathways as the gray skies rained down upon them. All their occupants had turned in for the night, not wanting to risk gaining a cold and possibly die from the sickness.

All except for the old man.

Said elderly man cursed himself under his breath as he walked briskly from storefront to storefront, trying his best to not get too soaked. All their lights had gone out except for a few street lamps scattered about, giving some light to the world for him to see by.

Unfortunately for him, he was not the only one using the light.

He knew there were people following him. He may be only sixty, but even a blind man would have been able to see the drunk vagrants trailing him back to his home. He hadn't counted, but he was fairly certain that there were more than three men.

All he had wanted was to have a simply quiet night. It had taken a bit longer tonight to close up the barber shop, a few men had come in for a late night cut and caused him to take an extra half hour to close up.

That half hour now may very well cost him his life.

"Oy, old bloke!"

He tried to ignore the shouting coming from not far behind him, his old legs trying to carry him like they used to back in his golden years during the navy. But that had been twenty years and thirty-five pounds ago.

He rounded the corner of another building, some sign displaying a funeral home hanging from above it's doors, before he came almost face-to-face with another drunkard.

"N' where do you think ya goin'?" He slurred out before grabbing him by the front of his burgundy jacket.

"P-please, leave me alone." The old man stuttered out frightfully with his hands held out, "I-I-I have n-no money!"

The old man heard footsteps coming up from behind him as the drunk reached into his pocket and produced a golden watch.

"Eeeeey, this looks like it could fetch a shillin' or to, ey boys?" He asked with a drunken smile as he held his find out for the others to see. The old man's eyes widened.

"N-No! Please! That was a gift from my son!" He tried to reach for it, but only received a swift punch to the mouth for his effort, falling onto a forming puddle on the cobblestone walkway.

"Old coot, should've kept yer' mouth shut." Said one of the other men as he pulled out what looked to be some sort of knife, the rain streaming down it's blade as it glinted from the light coming from a lamp post nearby.

"Oh Lord, please!" The old man begged as he tried to scramble away from the men, numbering into what seemed like nine or ten.

"The Lord ain't got no power her, Guv." Said the one with the knife as he raised the knife over his head, "This 'ere is London, Where it rains on the just and unjust alike."

The old man closed his eyes, not wanting the last thing he ever saw to be a knife plunging into his eyes.

What followed next was the sound of a man screaming while metal tore through flesh, muscle and bone with ease as the blood splatter mixed in with the rain.

And yet the old man felt nothing.

Opening his eyes back again, he was surprised to see where the vagrant once was stood a tall man in a black long coat and a top hat with a white band across it.

And the vagrant with both his arms severed laying before him, slowly dying from blood loss.

"Bloody Hell!" Yelped one of the other drunks as they jumped back from their fallen comrade as his screams turned to the gasps of a dying man.

"Oy, you sum'bitch, e' was my brother!" Screamed the largest of the nine as he balled his fist up in rage.

The man offered no rebuttal, the brim of his top hat shadowing his face as he stood there with both hands clasped in front of him, rain pattering against him.

The biggest of them all roared out angrily and lumbered forward, swinging wildly in hopes of catching the little runt who killed his younger sibling.

The man did not move an inch as he drew closer, waiting until he was right in front of him.

Once he was in the right place, the man flicked his wrist slightly, producing a handle with a long blade folded down and jabbing forward, striking the man on the nose hard enough to send his nose into his brain and killing him instantly.

This did not deter the other drunkards, however, as they charged forward with a yell while the big one was still falling backwards.

This time, the man in the top hat looked over his shoulder at the old man and nodded his head in a 'go away' gesture. That was when he got a good look at the man's face.

Or, at least, what he had on over his face.

The old man was both surprised and frightened by the plague doctor mask worn by his rescuer, a deep black as the beak was rimmed with metal. It also had two glass eye holes, the left one with a monocle over it.

That was all he looked at, though, before he got back up to his feet and ran away.

Turning back to the men approaching him, the man flicked his wrist again as he unfolded his blade before producing a similar one from his other sleeve and darting forward.

The first man who tried to strike him recieved a horizontal slash across his face, severing the top half of his head and sending blood flying into the air as his scalp went flying. Two more men tried to attack him from his sides, but were stopped as he jabbed outwards and pierced both of their right eyes with his blades. He then swung forward, tearing through the first two's skulls and decapitating a third man charging at him with a broken beer bottle before kicking him out of the way, his body splashing into another puddle from the rain.

"Burn in hell, demon!" screeched another man as he tried to land a punch on the figure's metal beak. His sloppy punch missed horribly as the figure slightly moved to his left and allowed the drunk to fall on his blade as it came through his back and piercing his lung.

The remaining three, however, stopped their charge and began to grow scared. In the span of three seconds, this man had killed four of their little gang with ease.

"I-I don't know about you two blokes." Stuttered out one as he began to creep backwards, the figure grabbing the now dead drunk by the back of his neck and pulling him off his blade. "B-But I think I'm going back to m'home."

And with that, they turned tail and began to run away, the rain beating against their faces as they made it a few feet down the street.

Right before the figure had lunged forward and plunged both his blades into one's shoulders.

He didn't even have a chance to scream in pain as the blades were torn upwards and came back down into his head. Without pause, the figure then turned and slashed another straight down the middle, painting the stones red with blood as a few bits flecked across his mask.

All that left was the last one.

"D-Dear God!" He yelped as he stumbled backwards from the bleeding remains of what were once his friends, the man slowly turning his head back to him. "P-Please, spare me sir!"

He then fell onto his knees, the legs of his pants soaking through as he clasped his hands together and begged for mercy. The masked figure took no heed as he slowly walked up to the man, sheathing his blades and having them recede back into his sleeve.

He then stood there, looming over the pleading vagrant for a few moments in silence, until he grabbed the man by his throat one-handed and lifted him off of his feet.

"N-No, please, I beg of you sir!" He screamed indignantly. He felt a warmth began to flow down his leg, but was far too terrified to fully notice it.

The bird man said nothing as he gazed into the vagrant's eyes, water trickling down his mask and off the tip of his beak. Something on the man's wrist had caught his eye, though as he threw him down on the ground and rolled up the drunk's right sleeve.

There, written on the wrist in permanent black ink, was a tattoo in the shape of an M.

The figure looked back up at the man, who was now trying his best to not cry out in pain from the three broken ribs he just recieved, before yanking his arm up into view and holding it questioningly with a tilt of his head.

"I-I Don't know what that is!" The criminal tried to lie, but it was easily seen through by the bird man as he grabbed the man's little finger and bent it to the side, breaking it and causing him to scream.

"AAAAAAAAA-HAA-AA, GOD!" He screeched before he was roughly grabbed by his hair and yanked back up into the Bird man's view. He then gestured to the mark again, then grabbed his pointer finger and tilted his head some more.

"O-Okay, I'll T-Tell you! It's the mark of Mulligan!" The criminal cried, his tears of pain mixing into the rain, "I w-work f-for Mulligan! But he h-has nothing to do with this! The others, they made me t-try to r-rob the old m-man! S-said they'd kill m-me if I didn't!"

The Bird man said nothing, just stared at him quietly as the rain continued to pour down. Finally, the man seemed to understand the un-asked question.

"W-Where is he!?" He vocalized it with realization evident in his eyes, "Twenty-sixth Tenney street, the building with the wrench logo on it's front! Please, just let me go! I s-swear, I'll never hurt a-another living soul again!"

The man continued his silence, the criminal's pointer finger still in his hand, before he stood up without a word and walked away. The criminal layed there in pain for a bit before sitting up and cradling his chest.

"B-Bloody Hell… Think I pissed mah-sel-"

He was interrupted as a blade pierced through the back of his skull and through his eye.


It had been about ten minutes since he got the information from those damned criminals. Now, Doctor Krow stood on a rooftop across the street from the building the man had told him.

Doctor Krow, asides from his mask, was dressed in some fairly regular clothing for this time period. He wore the black longcoat around him, undone so as to see his black vest and tie over the white button up he had on underneath. He pulled his hands out of the pocket of his black pants and up to the monocle on the left eye of his mask. Turning it to the side, he was able to zoom in his sight on the left side and spy a M on the side of the brick wall.

Re-adjusting his monocle back into place, he then looked down the alleyway next to it.

Perfect for his needs.

A flock of crows flew by overhead, and then he was in that alleyway. One of the crows deterred from the rest of the flock and flew down to the Doctor, perching itself on his shoulder. He reached up and lightly scratched it on the back of it's neck. It cawed once softly to him.

He waved the small bird on, as if telling it he would be back with it soon. It nodded it's head before flapping it's wings before taking off. He watched his friend go before sighing.

Maybe after this, he would buy the little guy some bread for he and himself.

There would bound to be some money on the goons inside.

The Doctor then walked down the alleyway until a door with a glass window came into view. He then took his elbow and bashed it into the glass, breaking it and sending shards down as he reached through and turned the doorknob.

Walking in, he closed it behind him just in time to hear footsteps approaching from behind him.

"Oy, the 'ell you doin' in here!" a male voice ordered from behind him. "Didn't ye mum tell ya wanderin' about isn't smart?"

Doctor Krow stopped all movement before slowly turning around to face the man. A feeling of satisfaction entered him as he saw the man, armed with a simple double barrel shotgun, begin to quiver in fear once he caught sight of the fine doctor's mask.

"Good Lord." He whispered out to himself.

"The Lord can not save you now." Doctor Krow answered back before bringing out his blades and lunging forward.


"Alright, someone bring me a size eight wrench!"

Inside of a large underground warehouse stood a man of rather large build, standing at six foot two and built like a circus strongman. He only wore pants and a pair of suspenders, showing off his broad chest as he lifted up a metal covering to some sort of panel before sticking his free hand out for the wrench he asked for.

Finally, one of his henchmen brought him the tool to finish his modifications on the machine. After a few seconds of tinkering, he came back out and wiped off some sweat from his bald head with his forearm.

"Everything done, sir?" Asked the man with wonder in his eyes, a young lad just over the age of nineteen and a great help to him. The tall irishman regarded him with a fatherly smile, glad that his men were taking interest in sciences and machinery and not alcohol and thievery like most of the town's Irish population as of late.

"That was the last of it, O'Neil." He grinned to himself as he took a handkerchief and wiped off his grease-stained hands. "Months of hard work will finally be coming to an end."

"Soooo, what does this contraption do exactly, Mr. Mulligan?" Asked the young Irishman as he inspected a large cog in the center of the whole room, reminding him of a doorway. It looked to be an important piece.

"Well, I'm glad you've asked, lad." He admitted happily with a clap on the back, careful not to send the young man flying from his strength, "I remember back when I was your age, I used to read those new science fiction novels, the ones in which men would travel to other universes or fight alien species."

"Like Journey to the Center of the Earth?" Questioned the young man.

"Actually, yes! That was one of the first ones I read." Milligan joyfully agreed. "But you see, just reading of these men and women's exploits into the realm of the unknown was not enough for me. For a long time, I wondered what it would be like to actually travel to one of these worlds."

The young man's eyes began to widen with realization as he regarded the giant cog with interest.

"So you mean to tell me...That this machine..."

He was interrupted as Mulligan laid a large hand on his shoulder and gave him a small grin, mostly hidden by his large red moustache.

"Will take us to another world, dear boy."

They stood in silence for a few moments until Mulligan seemed to remember something.

"Oh! Do tell me, lad, did Minister Man ever arrive? I was hoping to speak with him one more time before we left."

Minister Man, one of the many superheroes of The Crimebusters. He and Mulligan had fought many battles together, but always saw them as simply duels among friends, always ending with he and Minister Man duking it out and going to grab a beer down at the local pub afterwards. Even if he was supposed to be a villain, the two always got along as friends.

"I don't believe he arrived, sir, but one of the supers did." The young man answered his idol. "We got reports of a man in black before the phone line cut. These phones are still having some technical problems, it seems."

Mulligan rubbed his chin in thought. So it looks like his old friend wouldn't be able to see him off, unfortunately. But if it was a fellow in black, then it was most likely that Rigor Mortis man, the one with a scythe. They weren't exactly friends, but he knew the scythe wielder would be kind enough to pass on a message for him to his old friend.

"Well, let's wait for him before we go." Mulligan said as he pulled up two chairs in one hand and two ales in another before passing one of each to his young assistant. They pulled the caps off of their drinks before clinking them together in a toast.

"To a new world, sir." The young man toasted happily. Mulligan nodded his head in agreement.

"To a new world." He said before taking a swig and stroking his fine moustache with one hand.

"Oh, this reminds me! Did I ever tell you of the time Minister Man and I settled a fight we had over a drinking contest?"

"No sir, I don't believe so!" The young man said. Technically, Mulligan had told him before. But he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to hear a story from this god of a man.

"Well, you see, this was back in '78, when he and that Spectre woman were still a couple, bless her soul. Anyhow, we were standing atop Big Ben-"

The large Irishman was interrupted as the two large iron doors leading into their room blew open, two of their guards flying through them and onto the floor.

With a bullet hole right between their eyes.

"Dear Lord!" Cried Mulligan as he stood up with a start, startled by his men, dead. He looked up from the bodies to see a black figure walk through the doors and past his men with no show of remorse. He saw the man was wearing a top hat, long coat as well as a plague doctor's mask with a monocle on it's left eye, all of which were black.

"Mulligan, is it?" The figure asked once he stopped walking before taking off his top hat and giving a slight bow, "Ethan Jebidiah Krow. You may call me Doctor Krow."

"W-what have you done to my men!?" He yelled sadly, eyes still locked onto his two dead men. Boyle, the one on the left, was going to have turned twenty-eight tomorrow.

"Your men? I simply got them out of my way is all." He answered, "Another one of your men had attempted to rob and kill an old man just a few blocks away not even half an hour ago."

"M-my men?" He said distraughtly before thinking of a name. "Y-You mean Connell, don't you?"

Connell was a slimeball who had been thrown out two years ago when Mulligan had discovered he was getting drunk at nights and beating his wife. He had taken it upon himself to teach him a lesson before exiling him. It appears he was still eager to be a part of their crew, if it meant having someone to blame when he screwed up.

"Yes, I do believe that was his name. What a poor example of the Mulligan crew, wouldn't you agree?" Krow asked as he pulled out one of his blades before producing a handkerchief and wiping some blood off from it, "Such a shame, too. I had heard such good things about your bunch."

Mulligan then stopped looking at the dead and turned his attention to the living instead, looking with burning hatred at the man who had killed not just part of his crew, but his friends.

"You little bastard! I'll break your bird neck!" He yelled in fury before jumping into the air and bringing both his fists down like a hammer.

Krow looked up at his opponent before darting out of the way at the last second, the strike hitting the ground where he was a few seconds ago and caving in the concrete.

Mulligan didn't relent, however, charging out of the rubble at The Doctor and clapping at where his head would have been were it not for his speed. He wheeled around just in time to block a kick from the man with his forearm. He was surprised to find the force of the blow sent him skidding back a few feet.

"O'Neill!" Cried Mulligan angrily as he stomped the ground hard enough to send a shard of it in the air before punching it at his opponent, "Start up the machine like I showed you, boy!"

"Yes sir!" his disciple answered as he scrambled for the controls.

"Built a machine, did you?" Krow asked from atop a scaffolding before dropping down and slicing away at the large Irishman, scoring a few slices but not enough to do any real damage.

"I've always built machines. You could say it's a pastime of mine, building things." Mulligan spat out before tearing out a bolted down table with one hand and launching it at Krow. The masked doctor jumped up before landing atop it and launching himself at Mulligan, kicking him in the face with both feet as his coat fluttered out behind him.

"Just as running a criminal organization is?" Krow inquired as Mulligan stood back up and wiped some blood from his mouth, some of it in his mustache.

"Connell was a damned idiot that I removed years ago." Mulligan shot back before charging forward and swinging down with one hammer fist, again missing as Krow seemed to fade out of focus before re-appearing to his left.

"Still claimed to serve under you." Krow continued as he dodged multiple punches from the giant before jumping into the air and pulling to revolvers out from his sleeves and unloading them at Mulligan. To the Irishman's credit, he dodged most of them except for one that struck his forearm right where his brachial artery was. He shouted in pain as he brought a hand up to the bleeding arm before blocking a spinning hammer kick from the doctor that was strong enough to send him to his knees.

'How in God's name is he so damned strong?" He thought to himself as he turned quickly to check his young friend's progress and was glad to see the portal way gear begin to spark.

"I shall give you credit though, you're quite fit for the ripe age of fifty." Krow commented as he resheathed his guns and brought the blades back out. Mulligan couldn't help but be reminded of a straight razor.

"Just because I build machines doesn't mean I don't build my body." Mulligan entered a boxing stance before throwing punch after punch at the doctor, almost all being dodged as he slid side to side before Mulligan scowled and tried to sweep his feet out from under him. Krow flipped backwards and landed on one foot before lunging back and slashing the Irishman's chest, sending blood flying but not scoring a critical hit.

"It would seem so." Krow acknowledged the man who was built like a circus strongman. He then ducked another flying piece of concrete before running forward again and slashing at the man's head, cutting off a piece of his ear but missing any real hit. This man was fast for his size.

Mulligan then turned and grabbed the doctor's foot in mid air before swinging him down onto the ground, sending spiderwebs across the floor and a few pieces of stone into the air. He then brought his foot up, ready to stomp his head into oblivion.

Just as he was bringing his foot down, however, the unexpected happened as the doctor seemed to explode into…

A flock of crows?

The black birds circled around in the air, about five or six of them before they reformed atop another scaffolding with the doctor in a crouch, covered by shadows except for his glass eyes shining out.

"Wasn't expecting that, were you?" He questioned with a tilt of his head before jumping down and landing softly.

"Almost done, sir!" O'Neill reported from his place on the platform with the gearway, it beginning to spark some more and beginning to whine loudly.

"Okay then, it looks like it's time to stop playing games." Mulligan turned to see the Doctor had covered almost two yards in an instant before being met with three punches straight to his liver, causing him to double over in pain as he threw up. He was then hammer kicked in the back of the head into the ground, rendering him unconscious.

O'Neill did indeed notice this, flipping the last of the switches before turning around and bringing out a six-shooter that Mulligan himself had bought him as he pointed it in the direction of the doctor.

But he wasn't there.

Looking around, all he saw was Mulligan passed out next to a puddle of his own vomit. It angered him to see his idol reduced to this by such a foul man, but it was trumped by his fear as well. If this so called doctor could take down The Henry Mulligan, what chance did he have?

"Come out and face me, you coward!" O'Neill cried as he scanned the area with the revolver.

"I'm right behind you."

He whirled around from the whisper to see the man crouched atop the control panel before he drove one of his long blades through his right shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain as he was grabbed by his collar and dragged forward, the blade digging deeper and even through his shoulder.

"So, young man, care to tell me what this machine does?" The Doctor questioned politely as he twisted the blade slightly, sending more pain through the young man's system.

"S-Screw you, you damned monster!" O'Neill spat out through the tears of pain.

"Oh, I am no monster." Doctor Krow said as he led the man back over to the panel before pulling his blade out and slamming his face into it, "In fact, I think you'll find that I am quite human. Now, I will ask you nicely once more. What does this machine do?"

"It opens up a portal to another universe." O'Neill cried after much inner turmoil. The doctor tilted his head to the side in curiosity.

"A… Separate universe, you say?" He questioned as he walked away from the young man and up to the giant gear-shaped door as he stroked his chin in interest, "That is quite fascinating."

Just then, the sparking began to end as it was replaced by a small green circle that grew into the frame of the gear-like doorway. A draft of wind came through it, sending some papers scattering across the warehouse as The doctor continued to stare at it with keen interest.

"Indeed it is." he heard O'Neill answer from behind him. He turned just in time to see him shakily bring up the revolver and aim it at him.

"Too bad you'll never get to see it."

He then pulled back the hammer on the gun and prepared to fire, Krow standing there calmly with his hands folded behind his back as the bullet readied within the chamber.

Right before a lone crow came flying through a window and knocking it out of his hands at lightning speed with it's claws.

"Ah, Edgar." Krow commented as the bird grabbed O'Neill by his hair and slammed his face down into the panel hard enough to dent it and knock the young man out. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."

The small crow flew over to the doctor's shoulder and perched himself upon it before nudging his face with his head, wanting to be scratched. The doctor obliged, scratching his pet under the chin as he walked over to O'Neill. he then crouched down and fished out his wallet from his breast pocket.

"Let's see how many bags of bread this fellow will give us." He said as he pulled out a few shillings and looked down at the man.

"That much?" He questioned before dropping the leather wallet back onto his chest. "Probably spent most of it on alcohol."

The crow cawed once and looked at his master distastefully as if to say 'You and I both know that isn't true.'

Krow only shrugged as he walked back up to the portal.

"Oh, i'm only having fun Edgar. Calm yourself."

Edgar gave him the stink eye, talking with his eyes 'Stereotyping isn't fun. It's racism.'

He was going to defend back, but stopped halfway and shook his head.

"I'm not going to stand here and argue morals with a bird." he said as he turned his attention back to the portal, now showing a picture instead of a green ball.

It looked like it lead to some sort of forest, tall trees scattered everywhere with foliage adding to the picture of nature itself.

'Uhhhh… context?' Edgar seemed to ask as he tilted his head to the side towards his master.

"It appears as if the Irishmen had constructed a portal to a separate dimension." Krow answered as he watched a rabbit scurry across the grass into a bush.

'Ahhh, I see.' Edgar nodded before looking at o'Neill and nodded at him, 'The scrawny one, I suppose? Let me guess, evil scientist?'

"Surprisingly, it was captain mustache over there." Krow nodded at the downed strongman, who was beginning to stir slightly.

'Really? Could've fooled me.' Edgar seemed to comment with surprise in his eyes.

"What, are you saying because he's large, he has to be stupid? Way to stereotype people, Edgar." Krow chuckled as he continued to stare through the portal way.

Edgar seemed to sweat drop at his master before shaking his head and following Krow's line of sight.

"Are you feeling up for an adventure, Edgar?" Doctor Krow asked suddenly with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets. "I don't believe we have anything else scheduled for today."

Edgar seemed to mull it over in his mind before shrugging his wings.

'As long as I get bread later, I could care less.'

Krow patted his avian friend on the head lightly.

"Be patient, Edgar. A promise is a promise." The doctor then turned to the portal and sighing. "Off we go, then."

And with that, Doctor Ethan Jebidiah Krow walked out of London, England and into Remnant.


AN: HEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOO people of the internet!

Well, some of you may know me already from my other two stories, a SI titled Foreign Exchange and My Own Hell. This is a third (And hopefully last, until I get finished with either of the other two) story so far, based off a idea I had in literally ten seconds.

I'm hoping that this first chapter will do a good job of catching all of your attentions, with all of these characters, present and only mentioned.

Love it? Hate it? Let me know by following, favoriting, reviewing or PMing me! This is Lost In My Ways, wishing you all a good day!

See you next chapter.