The arena was massive. Bright lights hung on the roof, illuminating the entire fighting pit. The pit itself was circular, and had a 100 meter diameter. Ochre coloured sand composed the floor, small hints of red stains speaking to the barbarity that occurred previously. Stands stretched to the walls, capable of holding nearly eight hundred thousand spectators, and all seats were filled with green skinned aliens. To protect these observers, a force field covered the pit, adaptable in size and shape, so as to allow sky-borne warriors to dive and jink, or to restrict them to the ground.
Queen Veranke was seated in her personal box as she announced to the gathered aliens the details of the coming bout. She spoke in the Skrull native language, and was further translated as the images were broadcast to the conquered peoples of Earth.
Doom ignored the mewling that surrounded him. He had stepped through a large portal into the arena, and now stood with his arms crossed in a confident stance. The Queen had granted his request several days ago, but had been otherwise irritatingly cagey about the issue. He merely received the time and date while at his castle, as if a common serf.
Of course, he had graciously offered his thanks for the boon. Doom would obey their orders, because for now, it served Doom's purposes. Though it still rankled at him.
He initially believed that he would battle the entire Fantastic Four, but his sensors told him that the arena's shield had been drawn close the ground, a mere eleven feet in height. Such a choice meant that true flight was limited, and, as both he and the Human Torch could fly, it seemed to indicate that daring aerial manoeuvres would not be the order of the day, thereby ruling out the entire group.
It seemed the Skrulls wished to drag out the executions of the Four, and this suited Doom quite well. The aberrant members of the Fantastic Four only managed to defeat him by their numbers, and having the chance to enjoy extinguishing the life from each one would make the wait all the more worthwhile.
Doom had his plans to defeat each member of the super group. His 'conventional' weapons, plasma beams and lasers, were fairly useless against each of them. Richards' elastic body was highly resistant to energies of all kinds as well as being resistant to mental domination, Sue Storm could project nearly impervious force fields, Johnny Storm could absorb all forms of thermal energy with ease, and Ben Grim was little more than a numb rocky monster.
No, this battle would be a contest of wits and planning, and he had prepared weapons and strategies for all of them. His various lasers and plasma beams would be secondary, mere annoyances to wound and anger them.
The rising crescendo of the crowd disturbed his private musings, and across the arena he saw a massive humanoid form step out of the opposite portal. Easily standing nearly three meters tall and more than two meters broad, the orange, stony form of the Thing, Ben Grim, stepped into the pit. His eyes narrowed when he saw his opponent.
"Docta' Doom! I shoulda' known you'd throw yer lot in the Skrulls to save yer stinkin' hide!" came the orange monsters gravel-like voice as he chewed the English language like a piece of cud. Ben lumbered to the centre of the arena, cracking his knuckles and rolling his head side to side.
"What Doom does, he does for his people," dismissed Doom. His interior helmet HUD lit up with details from its many files on Ben Grim. Super human strength, virtually impervious rock hide, above average human reflexes. The armour scrolled various details past his eyes, though Doom knew them all by heart.
ARMOUR SHIELDS FULL, WEAPONS NOMINAL, CAPACITORS CHARGED
"Yah, you're a fuckin saint, Vic'," replied Ben, rotating his shoulders, limbering up for the inevitable battle. "Ya know how many people the Skrulls killed, you sick freak?" he asked.
Doom closed to within arm's reach and halted; the top of his helmet was just about level with Ben's rocky chin. This was Ben's preferred fighting distance, of course, and Doom knew he didn't have the power reserves to just blast away at him. He needed him angry and over confident.
"Doom's hand will deliver justice," he said, cryptically. He had little desire to treat with this imbecilic creature.
The Thing just smiled, though it came off as a twisted grimace through his crude features.
Lightning fast, Ben threw a right handed punch at his head. He ducked the blow, and the huge three fingered hand, almost as large as his torso, passed above him. Doom put his hands against Ben's abdomen and fired a bolt of yellow plasma, scorching the orange rocks and netting an angry yell from the large beast.
Reversing his swing, Ben brought his hands over his head and swung them down in a devastating hammer blow, disregarding the minor damage to his abdomen. Doom raised his hands and caught the blow, though it forced him to a knee, alarms blaring in his ear as his suit absorbed the inertia of the strike.
He looked up and fired a series of lasers from his mask, the shots scouring small grooves on Ben's chest, and the last catching him on his overly large brow. Ben recoiled in surprise and Doom leapt up to deliver a strike.
Ben's knee suddenly fired out and caught him, sending him sprawling onto his back. His shields had held though, and the blow mostly just surprised him.
Raising a foot, Ben stamped down, and Doom was forced to roll back over his shoulder. He triggered his jets, flying past Ben, and just barely avoiding a back-hand meant to ground him. Getting some distance from his opponent, he nimbly flipped and landed, leaning heavily on his right hand as he skidded in the sand.
His free hand glowed a malevolent topaz and he stood, and he fired a continuous bolt of plasma at Ben. His foe crossed his arms, protecting his face, and advanced into the beam, steadily moving forward against the stream of super-heated particles. When Ben was within a few feet, Doom cut the beam and took flight, speedily evading the creature.
This continued for a few minutes, each time repeating. Ben had a demonic resilience, enduring enough plasma beams to melt several tanks to slag. The deadly game of cat and mouse unfolded before the audience of Skrulls and humans.
Many among humanity would be rooting for Ben Grimm today
Suddenly, Doom cut his thrusters, feigning a malfunction, and rolled into the ground, sending tufts of sand flying. Ben saw his chance and charged like an angry rhino. The rocks composing his hands and forearms were burnt and black from plasma scoring, but Ben's inhuman stamina was still strong. Doom scrambled to his feet, gauging the charge.
When Ben was only a few feet away, Doom pointed an outstretched hand at the oncoming juggernaut and mouthed an incantation. Inky darkness manifested from the gauntlet, and streams of hissing viridian acid shot out.
Ben made no move to dodge to small projectiles, and he was showered in hissing green liquid.
Doom turned and again leapt to take flight. As he fired his jets, he felt a painful tearing in his right leg as Ben closed his grip on it. He suddenly felt his momentum shift, proximity alarms blaring at him, and he caught sight of the ground rushing up to his face as he was brutally smashed him into the sand.
Doom rolled onto his back as stars filled his vision and the previously blaring klaxons in his armour sounded very far away. A shadow covered his vision, and he felt a massive hand grip his head and lift him.
"Reed ain't here to stop me this time, Vic'," growled Ben as he drew back his other sizeable fist, sizzling chemicals still digging into his scorched hide.
He felt Ben release his grip on his head. A fraction of a second later, he felt the devastating impact of something not dissimilar to a freight train.
The distant sound of the cheering Skrulls was the next thing Doom could comprehend as his senses returned. He realized he was looking at the roof of the stadium. He unsteadily pulled himself to his feet and saw Ben was almost three meters away. The monster advanced on him with deadly intent.
He could taste copper in his mouth as he coughed. His armour shrilled, angry ruby warning runes filling the corner of his vision.
WARNING: ARMOUR SHIELDS AT 13%
ALERT: SEVERE STRUCTURAL DAMAGE: TORSO
ALERT: POTENTIAL HEAMOTHORAX. RELEASE AUTO-COAGULANTS?
Doom's anger started to rise as he came to his senses. The blow had nearly depleted his shields. He brought a hand up to his chest, and felt a deep crack in his breast plate. More concerning, he was certain he had several broken ribs, at least one of which had punctured into his lung cavity and was now filling with blood.
Coughing up another glob of red fluid, he allowed his armour to release the risky drug. He felt his limbs grow heavy and heart strain at his thickening blood. At least he wouldn't bleed to death in the next few minutes. He needed to end this combat quickly; his armour could only keep him alive for so long, and his foe still had plenty of fight in him.
"IT'S CLOBBERIN' TIME!" Ben yelled, charging forwards with the force of an avalanche. A mighty fist came flying at Doom, and he raised his hand to block its path. With his power nearly depleted, it all came down to this moment.
As Ben's fist impacted with Doom's outstretched hand, it shattered, scattering stone like an icicle hitting a pipe. Ben's vicious expression turned to wounded confusion as he reflexively grabbed the stump with his other hand. Quickly, Doom chopped down onto the other appendage, and it too smashed into brittle pieces.
"That was for my hands," Doom said, grimly referencing the old grudge from when Ben had crushed both of his hands in his armour. It taken months to recover from that wound.
He relished his foes unbelieving gaze, as Ben held up the pair of shaking stumps. Beneath his mask, Doom smiled. His weapons had wrought enough damage to the hide of this sub-human beast, allowing his magically conjured acids to dig deep into Ben.
And now victory was his.
He took a moment to savor the agonized face of Ben Grim, delighting in the uncomprehending expression of this idiotic creature who had fouled his plans for the last time.
But just for a moment.
With slow deliberateness, Doom pulled his arm back. Then, with vengeful force, he backhanded Ben's monstrous face, sundering it, and sending orange gravel flying.
Ben's ruined stumps came up to his destroyed face as he fell onto his back, his maxillary structures mixing with the orange sands of the arena.
"Have no fear, Ben-" Doom said, spitting the name out like curse. Each movement of his chest sent agonizing pain through him as he felt his ribs grind in his thorax. "- In Doom's mercy, you shall see your family soon enough."
His rage granting him terrible resolve, Doom walked beside the writhing form, raising his metal sabbaton and brought his full weight on what remained of Ben Grimm's skull, smashing it into countless shards. Doom ground his foot into the sand, crushing the stones that remained of Ben's head into orange dust; soon it was unrecognizable amongst the ochre grit.
He looked up at the baying crowd. Ear splitting cheers came from the Skrulls, clearly caring not which combatant won, just that they died for their entertainment.