Chapter 15: The Fist of Vengeance
"Steven! Why the fuck do my pants smell like piss!?"
Marc scrambled out of bed, hurriedly getting out of the soiled garment. Something squeaked and whined and he froze, looking back to the bed.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry – that must've been Squiggly. He's not entirely housebroken yet."
Marc stared at at a small, yellow-furred head that poked up from under the covers. A tiny little Labrador pup came waddling over to him, tail wagging.
"Oh you are not fucking serious", Marc said, staring at the pup as if was a vat of acid that Steven had demanded he should gulp down in one go.
"It's kinda cute though, innit?"
"Steven!" Marc whined demanded, glaring at his reflection in the fish tank. "Why would you get us a dog?! We don't have a yard and no time to walk it. Do you have any idea how much attention a pet like that needs?"
He huffed and walked toward the shower, choosing to ignore the puppy that was eyeing the floor, unsure whether it was safe to jump down or not.
"How long was I out anyway?"
"I… have no idea, actually. What day is it?"
Marc checked the phone. He'd lost three days, from the looks of it.
"Anything new I should know about? Besides the dog – which we're giving back, by the way!" Marc asked as he stepped under the spray of water.
"Errm, I really think we should keep it. At least for a little while", Steven said.
"Why?" Marc asked annoyed.
"Well, we might, I don't know. Need it."
"What could we possibly need a puppy for? I thought you were vegan!" Marc said.
"Wha – Marc! Don't even think about it!" Steven exclaimed as if Marc had suggested cannibalism.
Marc washed himself quickly and efficiently. When he got out of the bathroom, the pup sat in front of the door.
"Squiggly wants his food", Steven told him helpfully. "There's some in the kitchen."
"You named him Squiggly. For real?" Marc said incredulously.
"Well, look at him. He's all clumsy, traipsing around on those little paws of his. And look at his tail."
Yep, that was a wagging dog tail.
"Why, Steven?" Marc asked, with the sort of long-suffering sigh you'd give a small child.
Steven was shifting uncomfortably in his reflection. "W-Well, you see, I just thought… We've been having a bit of a hard time, haven't we, mate? With, with May and your counseling sessions and then Khonshu's back, and that third alter… It's been a lot. I though we should, maybe, do something nice. See something nice. Just. To relax."
Marc's expression softened a bit and he went to feed the bloody dog.
"Look, I… I get it. I'm really sorry about May. But a dog is not a replacement for a girlfriend. And we're not equipped to take care of a puppy."
"I know that. And it's not about that. We, we could make it work though. Plenty of people keep their dogs in their flats. And I can take it with me to the bookshop, I'm sure my boss won't mind."
"We can't keep the dog", Marc insisted.
"Fine. Fine. If you think that. Just… For a little longer. Uhm. Can you pick him up? Please?"
"No, he stinks", Marc refused, watching as Squiggly made a mess of his food, only half of it really ending up in its mouth.
"Come on. Just for a moment. Hug the puppy. For me."
"Okay, what is wrong with you?" Marc demanded to know. "Why'd you get the puppy?"
"I'll tell you if you hug it."
This was getting ridiculous.
Marc grabbed the puppy by the scuff of its neck, making Steven protest loudly when Squiggly gave a heart-wrenching little whine. He put the blasted thing on his lap, where it turned around three times before finally settling down, giving a lick to his hand.
"There. I've got the puppy. Now what's going on?"
"Well, uhm… This was Jake's idea, actually", Steven said.
Marc scowled. "Who the fuck is Jake?"
"Jake's our third housemate. The one behind Moon Knight, I assume."
"What?! You've been able to talk to him?" Marc exclaimed.
"Well, yes. He talked to me. It's a bit more complicated though because apparently, we don't just have one mystery alter. We have two."
Marc felt a headache approaching. "Two?" he asked weakly.
Steven nodded. "The other's named David. From the way it sounded, both of them are struggling as much as we do right now. Jake was especially worried about David. It seems he had some kind of mental episode, which has Jake in a tizzy too. So he insisted that you and me, we had to take it real slow now and relax and gather some good memories."
"You want to tell me", Marc said, shaking in fury, "that this Moon Knight bastard, who kept working for Khonshu behind our back, risking our life, now discovered he can't actually handle the pressure and needs our help?!"
"Marc-"
"I'm freaking ripping that bastard a new one-" Marc made, jumping to his feet-
"SQUIGGLY!"
The pup squeaked and it was only his military reflexes that allowed Marc to catch it before it hit the floor with a rather unpleasant level of force.
Both men stared at the little dog for a few moments. Fortunately, Squiggly didn't seem too hurt or very distressed and when Marc started carefully petting it, it started wagging the tail again.
The puppy… helped, actually. At least it got Marc to sit still long enough for Steven to tell the entire story. It didn't do much against the pit of anger, guilt and self-loathing that opened in Marc's stomach though.
Not just one but two new alters. Both mentally unstable and at least one of them was working for Khonshu. Jake had apparently kidnapped and threatened May's nephew and David was completely delusional, unable to tell reality and fantasy apart. And Khonshu was, no doubt, making full use of it all.
"Okay, that's it. You know, I think I could've lived with another normal alter, someone like you", Marc said, torn between anger and bitter depression. "But this… This is too much. I'm officially crazy now. Going back to Khonshu, willingly? Kidnapping children?" He shook his head, a sort of deep rooted pain and an exhaustion that wore the tinge of finality settling in his stomach. "I think… I think we need to put an end to this, Steven."
"W-What are you saying?" Steven asked.
Marc drew his hand through his hair, shoulders slumped. "We… We're not safe, Steven. And we need to get rid of Khonshu. So let's just, like, find a proper institution or… fuck, I'd settle for a cell right now, just until the old bird gets sick of waiting and picks another avat-"
"No, we can't do that! Jake said not to", Steven protested.
"I don't care what Jake said, he's a psycho!" Marc returned. "We need help, Steven. I… I've done it before. I was in a hospital a few years and things were better, afterwards. But I only knew about you, back then. Now that I know there are two others-"
"I don't remember any hospital", Steven said, eyes wide, shocked. "W-When was that?"
"After I was discharged from the military. I… I didn't know what to do. It started… back then… The blackouts, and waking up with b-bodies all around…" Marc rubbed his face, feeling nauseous. That must've been when Jake showed up.
"Marc", Steven said seriously, "I don't remember that. I don't remember the military and I don't remember a hospital and I don't remember any of your mercenary work after. I… I have this huge memory gap after High School where there's just nothing. Little tidbits here and there between grand stretches of a giant void. That… That is really, really scary. I don't know what you did in therapy but you sure as hell didn't treat the DID. Because I'm still here. I'm with you, mate. It was my first reaction too, when I heard what he'd done to Peter. But even Peter himself said Jake didn't want to truly hurt him and… And you didn't hear his voice, Marc. Jake sounded scared when I said I'd turn myself in."
"Of course he'd be scared, he won't get to fucking kill people with our hands anymore!" Marc burst out.
"I'm just saying… Maybe that's not what we need."
"And maybe", Marc said, "it's time to stop thinking about what we need and start thinking about what everyone else around us needs!"
Marc put the puppy down and it whined but he gave it a sharp look and went to grab his jacket. He texted Layla to please pick up Steven's project from the flat and then he left.
"Where are you going?" Steven asked anxiously.
"We're dangerous, Steven," Marc said, hands buried in his jacket's pockets as he stepped outside, his voice low but laced with conviction. For once, he didn't care if anyone saw him talking to himself. "If you're against us being locked away, fine, but we have to at least make sure that when we do go too far, we can actually be stopped. Someone like us should not be allowed to have freaking superpowers."
He stormed across the street, the dim glow of the city lights casting long shadows as he entered the backyard of a dilapidated building. His heart pounded, frustration and fear mixing in a toxic brew that had been simmering for far too long.
Then he shouted, voice raw and angry, echoing against the cracked walls around him.
"KHONSHU! We're done playing around. Jake, David, whoever the fuck you are, if you dare interfere again, I'll walk up to the next police station and tell them all about your latest murders! KHONSHU! SHOW YOURSELF!"
"Marc, maybe you shouldn't—" Steven's voice sounded inside his head, gentle but pleading. He was protesting, but Marc was so done. So done with all of this. With Khonshu. With being dragged into things beyond his control. He didn't listen.
A gust of cold wind swept through the alley, carrying with it the unmistakable feeling of something otherworldly. Marc's eyes narrowed, his fists clenching as he felt the familiar oppressive presence settling around him like an unwanted cloak.
"You dare to invoke my name, Marc Spector?" Khonshu intoned, his voice echoing like the shifting of stones in an ancient tomb. "What is it you have to say this time? More excuses why you won't do your duty? More complaints about my blessing?"
Marc took a step forward, his jaw clenched tight. "This ends now, Khonshu. I'm done being your puppet. I'm done with all of this. You agreed, you agreed to release me and you know damn well I meant all of me! You have no right to keep using Jake and David!"
Khonshu's head tilted ever so slightly, as though contemplating Marc's words with mild annoyance. "Jake and David serve me most willingly. Unlike you, they understand the value of my work. You did once too. I know you enjoyed it. I know you enjoyed punishing those that killed and tortured and abused others. Do not deny it, I have seen into your soul. Your service to me was your salvation. Without it, you would've been no more than a common thug for hire, just like all those whose blood stain your hands."
"Marc…" Steven made uncertainly.
"No… No, that's not true!" Marc shouted, though he was pale and shaking. "You didn't save me, you trapped me! I didn't ask for this deal. You took advantage of me when I was at a low, and I've paid enough for it. Let us go!"
Khonshu's pale bandages fluttered like feathers ruffled by the wind. "You owe me your life, Marc Spector. A life I saved when you were broken, bleeding, left to die in the desert. That debt is not one you can walk away from."
"You can have it back!" Marc spat, his voice trembling with contempt. "I don't care anymore. Take the life you saved. I'll end it myself if that's what it takes!"
"Marc, no!" Steven's voice cried out in his mind, full of fear and desperation. "You can't be serious, mate! There's another way, there has to be!"
But Marc wasn't listening. His mind was made up. His fists trembled at his sides, his heart pounding in his chest. "I'll kill myself, Khonshu. Right here. Right now. I'll throw myself off the next building, I'll drive a bullet through my brain. You won't have anything left of me to control."
Khonshu's towering form loomed larger as he stepped closer, his bony beak gleaming in the dim light. He remained eerily calm, his voice cold as death itself. "And what will that accomplish, Marc Spector? You think you can bargain with your life? Your body does not belong to you. Even if you tried, Jake would take over. Or David. And they would continue my work as if nothing had changed. The only difference would be that they'd lock you up in your own head. Forced to watch and unable to do anything."
Marc's breath hitched, panic creeping into his veins. They… They wouldn't do that, would they? Steven wouldn't…. But Marc knew next to nothing about the other two.
"I'll turn myself in. Tell the police everything. About the murders, about everything Jake's done", he tried.
Khonshu's voice dripped with amusement now, a low, chilling hum. "Tell them, Marc. Go ahead. Tell them about the people that live in your head and the Egyptian Moon God they serve. They will see you as the pitiful, broken soul you are. My suit will allow Jake to break free from any prison they put you in. But none of you will ever escape me."
"I'll keep trying," Marc threatened, his voice quieter now, the fire dimming as he felt Khonshu's hold tightening. "I'll keep finding ways. I'll make sure none of us serve you."
Khonshu loomed closer, his skeletal face mere inches from Marc's, his hollow eyes piercing into him like shards of ice. "You are bound by more than just your own life. I saved you from oblivion. You are mine, and so are your alters."
Marc swallowed hard, his chest tightening with panic. He decided to change tactics. "Jake and David… they're not well, Khonshu. You must know that. You're pushing them too far, and they're falling apart. You're twisting them into something worse than I ever was. They're already becoming the kind of monsters you claim to protect the world from. And it's because of you."
Khonshu's bandages fluttered, his towering form unmoved. "They serve willingly," he repeated, his voice cold and indifferent. "They understand the necessity of my justice. I have worked with them for years. I do believe I know them better than you."
Marc's fists clenched, the frustration and desperation boiling over. "They don't understand, they can't! Maybe Jake protected us once but you're making a hired killer out of him. And David... David's delusional. They don't know what they're becoming. You've dragged us into your war, and it's killing us from the inside."
He took a shaky breath. The strength to fight had left him, as if the mere presence of his former Master sucked it right out of him. "Please, I'm begging you. Let them go. You already broke me, don't do this to them."
For a moment, Khonshu remained silent, his bony head tilting slightly as if in contemplation. The god's gaze bore into Marc, as if dissecting his very soul, assessing the weight of his plea. The alley seemed to still, the cold air hanging heavy with tension.
"You are begging," Khonshu finally said, his tone unreadable. "A man like you, who once delighted in violence and sought redemption through my justice, yet never truly cared for the innocents I sent him to protect. Now you grovel for the lives of others. But then again, in the end you only grovel for yourself."
Marc's jaw tightened, but he didn't speak. He couldn't afford to anger the god any further.
"And yet," Khonshu continued, "your desperation intrigues me."
Marc blinked, unsure of what was coming next. The god's towering form shifted slightly, making a strange clicking noise with his beak. "I will make you an offer, Marc Spector."
Marc tensed. "What kind of offer?"
"You wish for Jake and David to be released from their duties, to be freed from my grasp," Khonshu said slowly, the words deliberate, cold. "Very well. I will grant them freedom—if you return to my service in their place."
Marc stared at the god, momentarily speechless.
"What?" He blinked, momentarily stunned. That wasn't the response he'd expected. Khonshu… was willing to let Jake and David go? That should've felt like a victory, but the weight of the god's condition hit him like a punch to the gut.
"I…" Marc stammered, his mind racing. "You'd let them go? All of them, Jake, David and Steven? Completely? No more pulling them into your battles?"
Khonshu inclined his head slightly, his voice dripping with authority. "They will no longer carry the mantle of my justice. I will give them no orders and demand no obedience. But you, Marc Spector, will remain my avatar. There will be no more negotiations, no more turning back on your word. You will serve me completely, as you did before, until the day you die… and beyond, should your death come too early for my tastes."
Marc felt his stomach turn. The thought of being pulled back into Khonshu's service, with no escape, was suffocating. He'd fought so hard to break free, to find some kind of life outside of this endless cycle of violence and death. Khonshu had agreed before to leave Steven out of his work and what had happened? He'd bullied Steven into giving the body to Marc when the mission had once more been more important than Marc's peace of mind. Would this be any different even if he agreed? Would Khonshu just harass his alters whenever they were out into giving in to Marc?
But then his mind flashed to all those blackouts when he woke with blood on his hands. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, Khonshu was right. A part of him had enjoyed being the Fist of Vengeance. And if he was already messed up enough to enjoy it, then how would it be for Jake? Marc didn't yet fully understand what David's role in all of this was but if what Steven had told him about his delusions was right, he was just as broken as all of them. Maybe even more. They were being twisted into something worse than he'd ever feared. And he was running out of time to stop them.
"You…" Marc swallowed hard, his voice hoarse. "You're serious? You'll let them go if I agree?"
Khonshu stepped closer, his towering form casting a long shadow over Marc. "I do not lie about such matters, Marc Spector. The choice is yours. Take up the mantle again, and they will be free. Or continue as you are, and watch them crumble beneath the weight of my justice."
Marc's hands shook, his mind racing. He could hear Steven faintly in the back of his mind, trying to get through to him, trying to protest. But Marc was too overwhelmed by the choice in front of him. He had begged Khonshu to release them, and now… now the god had offered him exactly that.
But the cost…
"I…" Marc began, his voice trembling. "I can't…"
"Marc," Khonshu's voice cut through the night air, sharp and unwavering. "You once embraced this life. You reveled in my justice. You cannot deny the truth of who you are. Take up the role again, and let the others go. This is the only way to spare them."
Marc's breath hitched. He could feel the panic rising, the walls closing in. He didn't want this. He didn't want to be trapped again, locked into Khonshu's endless war. But what was the alternative? So long as the others were bound, they could and would stop Marc from putting any sort of final end to it. If there was one thing he could imagine that was worse than becoming the monster his mother had always seen in him, then it was to become that monster, being fully aware of the wrongness of it all and unable to stop it.
"Marc, please," Steven's voice was louder now, pleading. "There's got to be another way. You don't have to do this. We can figure something else out!"
Marc pressed his hands to his temples, trying to drown out the noise. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe.
"I can't…" Marc whispered, his voice trembling. "I can't let them go down that path."
"Then the choice is simple," Khonshu said, his voice a low, commanding hum. "Take up the mantle, Marc Spector. Or watch your alters continue their descent into darkness."
Marc closed his eyes, his mind racing. He could feel Steven's presence in the back of his head, begging him to stop, to think of another way. But Marc knew there was no other way. This was all his fault, his doing. He'd been the one who failed that mission at the dig site. He'd been the one bleeding out at Khonshu's feet. He'd been the one to offer up his soul.
He was the broken one. It was because of his weakness that his other selves devolved into something ugly. At least… At least with this, he got a semblance of control back.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, his gaze locking with Khonshu's. "I'll do it," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll take the deal. But you leave them alone – I'm not going to lock them up and you can't drive them away, even if it's inconvenient, even if you need me. Just let them go, all three of them – no, all of my alters." He didn't want to find out tomorrow that there was secretly a fifth one.
Khonshu's towering form seemed to loom even larger, his presence suffocating. "You have made your choice, Marc Spector. From this moment on, you are my Moon Knight once more. The others will be released, as promised. But know this—you will never abandon me again."
The wind picked up around Marc, swirling faster as Khonshu stepped back. And then, before Marc could react, his body was engulfed in white tendrils of cloth, the bandages of Khonshu wrapping around him with terrifying speed. They coiled tighter and tighter, binding him, covering him completely, suffocating him with how tightly they wound around him.
Marc gasped, stumbling back, but the bandages moved with a life of their own, constricting him, forming the familiar armor of Moon Knight. His fingers twitched as the gauntlets took shape, heavy and cold. His chest tightened as the crescent moon symbol burned bright against his skin, the white fabric molding to his body. The crescent cape unfurled behind him, snapping in the wind like a banner of war.
It was happening again. He was becoming him again.
Marc tried to resist the flood of memories and sensations—the rush of power, the thrill of battle, the cold clarity of Khonshu's justice—but it was futile. The transformation was complete.
The mask closed over his face, suffocating the last remnants of the man beneath. Moon Knight had returned.
Marc's breath came fast and shallow as he stood there, fully transformed, fully consumed by the weight of the mantle. He glanced down at his hands, the white armor looking unnaturally pale in the sunlight, and clenched his fists. He had done it. He had sold his soul once more, willingly returned to a contract that was little more than slavery.
The ancient god loomed before him, silent for a moment, before his voice echoed once more, low and triumphant. "You have chosen wisely, Marc Spector. Welcome back, my Fist of Vengeance."
Marc hated it, hated it hated it hated it, but there was a tiny spark of pride, a feeling of rightness settling over him as he heard those words. He looked up at Khonshu and in the polished gold of his crescent moon staff, Marc saw his other self gaze back at him.
Steven's voice was a distant, disappointed whisper in the back of his mind. "Marc… What have you done?"
But Marc couldn't answer. The choice had been made, and there was no turning back now.