Chapter 1: Double Trouble

(The Next Morning)

Hank prepares his son, Damien for school as his double sits on the couch, drinking whatever liquor he happens to find. Cathy shifts uncomfortably at the sight of her husband's twin. Scars trace across his face alongside the brand marks below his eyes. The gaping hole in his left cheek reveals rotten teeth and blood-red gums, complete with rope burns around the neck.

Hank takes his other self's bottle and inspects it. "Where did you get that?"

"From your liquor cabinet," the double says, letting out a belch.

"You understand that it's eight in the morning, right?"

"Yeah," the double reaches under the couch and pulls out a bottle of Devil's Toe. "I wonder how your kid's handling that you have a twin?"

"As far as I can tell, he thinks you're lying and just as suspicious as I am." Hank watches as Cathy takes Damien outside and closes the door behind her. "I just can't believe that you still wear that outfit."

"I find the overcoat and John Lennon glasses more practical than those pajamas you insist on wearing. Ninja garb's pretty pointless when it gets caught on your heels after all."

Hank takes the beverage away from the mercenary. "Starting to doubt you're my twin now."

Henry shrugs, pulling out his flask and takes a quick sip. "What was your name before you joined the Anti-AAHW?"

"Hank Shawnson."

"Shawnson? I've heard people even be named Trevon, but 'Shawnson' takes the cake. What kind of surname is that?"

"An important one. Yours?"

"Henry Jenning Wimbleski, at your service." Henry puts his hand out to shake. Hank only lets it sit there for a few moments. "I'm keeping this up here until you shake it."

Hank turns away and enters the kitchen to pour out the contents of the beverages Henry took. "And 'Shawnson' is supposed to sound strange?"

Henry gets off the couch and limps over to the kitchen. "Fuck you, Hank."

Before the two bicker any longer, there is a knock on the door. Hank turns to where he thinks Henry would be, only to realize he is nowhere in sight. He instead decides to greet the guest.

Sanford.

"Hi."

"Hi."

After their heartfelt reunion he enters the household.

"HYAAAAAAA!"

Henry drops from the ceiling and onto him. He has Sanford in a full nelson and keeps wrestling with him until he throws him out of one of the windows.

"What the living fuck are you doing?!" Hank screams as Sanford tries to get back inside while receiving help from Henry.

"Can't believe you guys've been out of action this long." Henry helps get some glass off Sanford only to be pushed aside.

"Hank. Why the fuck was I just flung out of your window by…" He looks at the two Hanks before him. "... Youuuuu?"

Interesting, this Sanford's not an Aussie.

"That's because I'm Hank's long-lost brother, Henry. He never said anything about me since mom thought I was the better child."

Sanford stares at Henry, then back to Hank. Hank presses his thumb and index finger against the bridge of his nose.

"He's from another dimension." He then glares into his twin's eyes and points to the glass fragments. "You're going to clean that mess up."

"Alright, alright. I will."

"Wha- wait NO, what the fuck?! That actually makes less sense than the brother excuse! And isn't your mom fucking dea-"

"Yes, Sanford. Like my mother, the Improbability Drive was unpredictable. And very dead. Thank you for reminding me of both."

Henry grabs a bottle of vodka and offers it to Sanford. "Maybe this'll help you… drink down these troubles?"

"Uh, no thanks… Henry, right? It's a bit early for that."

"Did you see that pun I made?"

"Yeah. I did."

"Are you sure? I'm not sure you did. It was the one with the 'swallow' in it."

"Well, I'm honestly fucking ecstatic to see that our friend here has your charm with Deimos's sense of humor. Makes me feel a lot better about the news I have to drop on ya."

"What news?" Hank asked.

"There's been a string of murders going on in Nevada."

Henry nods. "So basically, the usual?"

"Victims all apparently have one thing in common: former soldier of the AAHW."

"Great!"

"Henry. Could you kindly shut the fuck up for a minute?"

"Aww, I love how you added that 'kindly' in there too! You're such a gentleman."

Hank hands a broom to Henry. "Glass. You clean. Now."

"I'm sorry, but I don't speak in caveman talk-"

"Now."

"Fine. I'll clean up my own glass. Only it'll have BLACKJACK! AND HOOKERS!"

As Henry heads back to the living room, Hank turns back to Sanford. "You think this had something to do with Dan?"

"Doubtful. He's been in containment since Underground Circus."

Henry raises his head up. "Who's Dan?"

"A very, very angry brother-in-law."

"Huh, gotta meet this guy," Henry drops the broom, and jumps out of a different window.

The duo freezes up as they hear glass shattering again. Sanford turns his head slowly to Hank with narrowed eyes.

"... Did he just jump out of the fucking window?"

"Don't lose him!" Hank yells as they dash out of the house.

Sanford is bent over, panting, "Damn, he's fast."

"It's been five minutes and you're out of breath already? Hm… no wonder why we lost him."

Sanford stands up, clearly unamused. "... You know what? Fuck it. I hope he gets hit by a car. You and your sense of humor is enough to give me a stroke."

"Not unless you get a heart attack first from cardio and doughnuts, Chief." Hank goes to his car. "At this point, we're not going to get him by foot. Come on."

The sound of Henry's footsteps make their mark across the sidewalk. Running to whatever destination he set his mind to, only to find he is running to nowhere. Upon realizing this, he stops… dead in his tracks. The light from the sun reflects from the bottle he is holding. The rays shoot into his eyes, forcing him to look at the beverage he is holding.

May as well.

He puts the tip of the bottle to his lips and tilts his head backwards. The burning sensation almost overwhelms him as he guzzles the contents. His throat reels in agony as the substance invades his body. Ignoring the pain, he keeps drinking until the bottle runs empty.

Henry puts the bottle down, head dropping every other second. His stomach clenches as though he has just been punched in the gut. A hiccup follows that, only making the punch feeling come over to his chest.

Bile starts creeping up his chest. The same burning sensation is felt once again as Henry falls to his knees. He tears off his bandana and medical mask. The grass field in front of him is the only thing he keeps his attention to. The sick feeling in his chest rises to his throat. A second later, one single second, he vomits on the floor. The force causes him to cough until he vomits again.

Forgot I don't have Sanford's liver.

Using his sleeve, he wipes his mouth of any refuse, feeling the acidic waste leave his flesh. He then decides to walk around the neighborhood and notices a passersby wave hello, smiling.

Why are they happy?

He then continues down the road and sees multiple flashes of light, almost blinding him.

"Hank, how's your family?"

"What's your next mission?"

"What's your take on the latest death from the AAHW killer?"

"What happened last month between you and Cathy?"

The constant flashes of light blind Henry as he brings his right hand to shield his eyes. The reporters continue bombarding their questions as their voices become louder and louder.

Henry can only step back as the clicking and flashing intensify, leaving him to grab one of the cameras. He feels the plastic and rubber in his palm as he tightens his grip. The casing gives way and his fingers puncture the hardware.

Wires and other hardware fall out of the camera, hushing the inquisitors. The silence only lasts for a few seconds; the questions and the flashes of light make a rapid-fire return. He walks to the closest reporter and seizes her by the throat. She feels her feet hover above the ground and sees the resentment in the eyes of her attacker.

"GO AWAY!"

The camera crew panic, scrambling all over the place and away from Henry like a nest of roaches being uncovered. He looks back to the reporter still in his grip, seeing her face become a mask of confusion and fear.

Henry loosens his grip and lets her go. He watches her retreat as the road he is facing begins to melt and swivel. His feet become uneasy and stumble upon each other.

Thirsty. I need water.

Awkward footsteps imprint the concrete as Henry stumbles as fast as he can. His throat clutches his full attention. Heat from the sun feels evermore unbearable as he takes his next step and looks at what is in front of him.

Colors surround his vision as he stares at a park. Green, yellow, red, blue, everything. Families playing with each other and children running around stay at the center of his attention. He continues straggling down the field until he spots an outdoor water fountain.

Water.

Heart racing, he sprints to the fountain and drinks to his heart's content. Water drips from his mouth as he finishes. Feeling streams come down his chin, he uses his clean sleeve to wipe his lips. Taking his surroundings in once more, Henry spots a park bench only a few yards away. A green bench, recently painted and looking like a good spot to rest.

This has been a crazy week to say the least.

Walking to the seat, Henry sees a ball rush to him. It hits the ground as Henry ducks the spherical attacker.

I hate this.

Collapsing on the bench, he takes a deep breath, ignoring the shouts and screams of kids playing games. He looks to the sky, hunched over.

"You gonna stop playing deaf now, God?"

Henry slouches on the back rest and lets his feet slide on the pavement in front of him. The rough surface scrapes the soles of his boots, letting the white noise invade his ears.

Can't believe I miss my ol' hellhole.

Small footsteps sound off, invading his hearing as he sits upright on his seat.

"Um, Mister Hank… sir?"

"Huh?"

"I just want to say thank you for saving my mom and dad. You're my hero."

The tiny voice causes him to look down, meeting a pair of bright green eyes attached onto an innocent figure, packaged with admiration and respect. All of this leaving him with the irresistible desire to throttle the life out of her.

Henry gets up from the bench. "Maybe you should go back to them," he tells her as he begins to walk away.

The sound of his feet brushing against the luscious grass invade his mind until she grabs him by the wrist.

"Mom and dad would love to meet you."

Henry decides to follow her, all the while something odd comes to him.

This park looks uncannily familiar.

Staring upon the open meadow around him, something seems off.

I remember this place, charred, decrepit. How could it have turned into this?

The girl finally finds her parents.

"Mom! Dad! I found him."

"Who'd you find dear?" The girl's father asks as turns to be face to face with Henry. "Well, Mister Wimbleton, it's an honor to meet you."

The father presents his hand to shake to which Henry obliges.

"Honey, we've got a guest you'd like to meet."

"Who could it be this time Charles?" Another voice asks as she appears out of some bushes and sees the mercenary.

"Oh my," she says as both she and Henry are taken aback.

Why do I recognize her face?

"I'll get the camera," she tells everyone as she runs off to their car.

"So, what brings you to the park?" The father asks as he plays with his daughter.

"Just needed some fresh air," Henry tells him as the little girl jumps on him and embraces him.

The father takes her off of him. "Sorry about Nadine, she's a big fan of yours."

Soon enough, the mother comes back, camera in hand. She gets the father and daughter to be right beside Henry and takes a picture. She then switches with her daughter.

"I think we've got enough," The father expresses to his wife and child. "I think Hank has some other things to take care of."

"Bye Hank!" the little girl waves at him as he walks away.

What the fuck was that?

Henry continues walking across the green pastures that besiege him. Blades of grass reflect upon the wind as a breeze comes over him. Screaming from the children become louder.

Something bulging from the ground catches Henry's focus. Moving quietly, he picks it up, revealing it to be a shiny pebble. Shaking his head, he drops it and continues moving until he sees a monolith.

Three men standing upon the center of the area, each having their own heroic pose. One wearing an overcoat and a visor wielding two machine guns, all the while smoking a cigarette. Another wearing a bandana and John Lennon Sunglasses, swinging his hook. The last wears ninja wraps and red goggles, holding a dragon sword in front of him.

As the clouds move, the sun's rays reflect from the stand and force Henry to look at what is inscribed on it.

In memory of Nevada's trio of saviors. From killers to heroes.

Of all things I've seen in my life.

Henry looks at the statue again, looking at the finely chiseled granite that composes the figures looking down at him. Deigning him.

If the White Lion Society came to be here, then I don't know how Hank and the others could have been treated as heroes in general.

The grass comes to his view once again. The green barley that move seamlessly along whatever pushes it.

That's in the past now.

Looking at the statue one last time, Henry moves down the meadow. A branch snaps and a shriek is heard not too far from him. Instinctively running to the origin of the sound, he sees a child on the ground with a bent and contorted forearm. As the adults rush to the boy, Henry runs past them and finds the road to be right in front of him.

Thank Christ they're focusing their sights on that kid.

A siren sounds off near him. It becomes louder as a police car drives up to him.

Sanford gets out of the car, "Where do you think you're going?"

"To meet this Dan."

"Sorry to say this, but I'm taking you back to Hank's house. You're a bit too dangerous to be left alone."

"What makes you say that?"

"Considering you were willing to jump out of a different window just to get here can give certain suspicions."

"Alright, fine."

Clean metal brushes against Henry's hand as he opens the car door and enters the back of the vehicle. Sanford enters the driver seat and starts the car. With the field passing through his view, Henry tries opening the door, failing at every attempt. Defeated, Henry slumps on his seat, resting his head on the window.

"You forget you're in a police car."

"Right."

Through the rear-view mirror Sanford sees Henry lift his feet and kick the opposite window. Glass shards fill the back of the car as he quickly clambers through the broken glass.

"Henry, no!"

Henry falls out, rolling along the road. He jumps back onto his feet, gunning it to any direction away from Sanford.

Sanford turns on the siren. "That madman'll get himself killed."

Running, Henry stumbles through other pedestrians and other obstacles while the police car follows him, sirens still blazing. Thinking quickly, he runs in the opposite direction and bumps into other people along the way. With so many people to collide with, he eventually falls over and rolls down a hill.

Feeling the grass scrape against his clothes and flesh, Henry gets up and dashes aimlessly down the field in front of him. He catches sight of another road up ahead and sprints to it as though he is outrunning an explosion. Many vehicles pass by, leaving a distinct sound of speed and squeaking from their brakes. In spite of the sight, he continues running anyway, not checking for cars being too close, nor the stoplights that run a bright green color.

As the mercenary runs down the street, an automobile collides with him, forcing him to roll up the car hood and windshield. He slides on the roof of the car, onto the trunk, and on the floor.

God, I can't move my arms. Need to keep moving.

Twisting and writhing back up, he notices that his left leg is also limp, almost as lifeless as he is. People walking by see him stagger to the sidewalk as the car that hit him drives off. He collapses shortly after and lies close to a parking meter.

Fifteen Minutes Later

Hank and Deimos drive to the general park that Henry was seen in. They proceed down the road until they spot somebody wearing garb that resembles Hank's back in war.

"Get him in the car," Hank orders his friend as they grab the fallen soldier from the ground.

"How's he still alive?" Deimos asks as he lifts Henry's arms.

"My guess is that he has my problem as well." Hank picks up his phone. "We got him, Sanford."

"You really think you're still immortal?" The visor wearing former mercenary questions as both he and Hank get Henry into the car and drive off.

"Higher Powers have brought me back every time I've died. I highly doubt that's going to change anytime soon."

"You never know Hank. Even gods fall before men."

The two drive on for a few more minutes. Along the ride, they hear sickening pops and breaking bones. Out comes Henry from the back of the vehicle.

"So, when are we meeting and interrogating Dan?"

Deimos jumps in his seat. "Jebus! He's as bad as you used to be Hank!"

"I take it you're Deimos," Henry reaches hand out to shake. "Weird name, though."

Deimos shakes it, frowning. "And you are?"

"Henry Jenning Wimbleski."

Deimos scoffs. "What kind of name-?"

Hank puts a hand over Deimos's mouth. "Don't start with him, Deimos."