Said The Madman to The Minion

The mansion was distinctly gothique in architecture-all long eaves, sharp angels and wrought iron. Its most prominent feature was the main entrance: a massive, oaken door adorned with not one but two gruesome gargoyles. It was a dread portal the Devil himself would envy.

He had, in fact, asked Dr. Strange for a similar motif for the Gates of Hell. Strange assured the Prince of Lies he'd be by Thursday, after he'd finished conquering the living Earth.

Strange was currently floating through the mansion's dark halls, toward the basement level. The little orange men he'd recently (forcibly) employed skirted nervously around him as they passed, on their way to the evening's tasks. The last one to incur the sorcerer's wrath was still being scraped off the walls.

Teach them to sing about bloody chocolate, concluded Strange.

He approached the basement door, which was strikingly similar to the dread portal out front (in fact, most doors in the house were dread portals; Strange had developed a fetish for them.) Through the cracked opening, he could see a misty, soft radiance. A smile played briefly across his lips before he resumed his faint scowl and dragged the door open.

Traceries of light danced along the ceiling and walls, originating from a whirling blue portal situated in the middle of the small room. From behind Strange, two of the little orange men peered around the doorjamb to get a better look.

"Perfect," He sighed. Strange made a complicated gesture with both hands, then pointed both index fingers at the portal.

"Myotismon, come to me!" he cried, his voice resounding in the tiny chamber. "I call you forth in the name of Strange!"

There was a ripping sound, as though Strange had managed to tear the air in two, and the portal contorted violently before exploding outward in a blinding flash. By the time anyone could see, the radiance had been replaced by an irked, pale, humanoid creature in a high-collared get up only Dracula would appreciate.

"Who has brought me here, fools? Where am I?" he demanded, raising a fist. A red glow swirled around his gloved hand.

"I have. Name of Dr. Strange," replied the sorcerer, whose own hand began to flicker blue, a vague grin toying with the edges of his mouth. "Welcome to the human world. I believe you've been here before."

"Do you realize what you've done?" snarled the creature, who would have been human were it not for his (the voice was decidedly male) askew proportions. He was lanky in the extreme, and possessed of bulbous shoulders, which may or may not have been due to his outrageous outfit.

"Dragged a creature from the depths of the ether to do my bidding," returned Strange, matter-of-factly.

"What makes you think you could command me?" the creature answered, and lashed at Strange with the red energy; it uncoiled not unlike a whip. Strange effortlessly batted it aside with his glowing left hand, then seized the "whip" and jerked his victim toward him. The creature stumbled and fell, caught off guard by the counterattack.

"You'll do what I say because otherwise you'll never go home," growled Strange, looming over his fallen foe. "And, should you follow my command, there's something in it for you, Myotismon."

Myotismon glared up at him. "How do you know my name?"

"I've been watching your world. Been watching you," said Strange, kneeling down. "I know who you are, where you're from, and where you were going."

"What do you want from me?"

"Obedience," said Strange. "And power. And should you aid me in this, the domination of my own world," he murmured, "I shall aid you in the domination of yours. That is what you're after, is it not, Myotismon?" Something in Myotismon's vicious glare slackened as he visibly relaxed a bit.

"So, I help you with whatever it is you're planning and… you help me with whatever it is I'm planning," he said.

"That's right," replied the magician. He straightened and extended his hand-the one not on fire.

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because I didn't kill you when I could have," said Strange, "and because you don't have a choice."

Myotismon weighed his options. Strange had shrugged off his attack as though it were a fly. If he was going to put this fool in his place, it certainly wouldn't be from this position...

Well, it was this or die pitiably in a human's basement.

He took Strange's hand.

Strange's weird smile widened.