Namor/ Human Torch
Issue 1 By RoninReviews
Humanity VS Superhumanity Part 1
1935, Atlantis, North Pole
Namor’s fist bludgeons in the head of the Killer Whale as the huge creature squeals in pain trying the escape Namor’s wrath. The Whale flips its huge body from underneath the water and onto a floor of ice above the water; it lies panting with blood pouring from its mouth with bruises all down its body. Namor somersaults out the water. He is 13 human years old and already showing signs of being a powerful warrior both on land and in the water. The icy cold water coats his body, like golden syrup when the sun hits it. He takes a bite of the chilly winds of the Arctic as he approaches the colossal befallen creature. The Killer Whale’s huge frame wheezes in and out as it breathes its last breaths. It watches Namor approach as it looks to him in fear and lies motionless accepting its fate. Namor raises his fist as he looks down upon the huge creature, his face as cold as his surroundings. The mighty crack can be heard for miles as there is nothing for the sound waves to bounce off in the endless landscape of white. Namor pulls his fist out of the whale’s skull and makes about cutting it open with his small dagger. As he opens the whale’s stomach its entrails seep out like a flood. Namor’s pointed ears prick up as he hears a distant muttering. He turns to see a platoon of explorers about 20 metres away. There are four, all dressed in thick woolly jackets, all kitted out with snow gear. All are over 20 and have well-trimmed facial hair. 3 of them hold rifles; one is a Native Inuit guide. The explorer in the blue jacket carefully approaches Namor. Namor stays stock still and holds his ground.
Explorer: Um...hello. Are you not cold lad?
Namor holds his icy stare.
Other Explorer: Step away McKenzie old chap. You saw what he did to that whale. He’s not human!
Another Explorer: The map says we’re on the right tracks. This is where you were before right? When you were on that expedition 13 years ago?
McKenzie: Bertrand, Gareth, shut up. He’s obviously of Atlantean descent. Look at the insignia on his belt, we’re on the right tracks.
Namor (In Atlantean): <Stay away human. I have no business with you and Atlantis has nothing to do with you. Leave here.>
McKenzie: Atlantis. Atlantean. You know those words right?
McKenzie: I’ll take that as a yes lad.
McKenzie: Princess Fen do you know her?
Namor begins to walk around him.
McKenzie: It’s because I met her 13 years ago.
Bertrand: What? McKenzie! You didn’t tell us any of that?
McKenzie: We kept it a secret Bertrand. We couldn’t have the outside world knowing about a secret race of super human Atlantean warriors.
Namor suddenly rushes at McKenzie grabbing him by the throat and lifting up of the ground.
Namor: <Leave here! Never return!>
A loud gunshot rings out across the arctic and Namor falls to the ground with a deep thud. McKenzie stumbles to his feet and sees smoke coming from Bertrand’s gun.
McKenzie: Bertrand you imbecile!
McKenzie rushes towards Bertrand enraged but Bertrand holds his gun up to McKenzie, stopping him in his tracks.
Bertrand: Not another step sea dog. Get to the ground, you’re under arrest.
Gareth: What? What are you talking about old friend?
Bertrand: You too Gareth. You’re all witness to an International secret and we’ve only just came to the surface of.
Gareth and the Inuit Guide slowly get to their knees with their hands in the air.
McKenzie (Hands in the air): What are you talking about Bertrand? You’re not a Police officer.
Bertrand: Never said I am McKenzie old chap. You’re under arrest by S.H.E.I.L.D/ or the United States Government if you prefer.
Bertrand: I’ve been working for them for the past 6 years researching Atlantean territories and secret hideaways. They maybe a peaceful people but with the start of our mining in the ocean we need the seas for ourselves and don’t want to have to be fighting the Atlanteans for it. The blue skinned Atlanteans could decimate the Human race 3 times over. They need to be eradicated.
McKenzie: If you know the Atlanteans like I do you know that the amount of good we could do working together is far superior to the destruction that could be accomplished.
Bertrand: Ah and now we get to McKenzie’s little secret. 13 years ago Leonard McKenzie made a trip up to the Arctic Circle and he and his crew stumbled led across Atlantis. Didn’t you McKenzie?
McKenzie: You killed our only chance of finding them Bertrand! The only chance of finding her...
Bertrand: Princess Fen. The mother of your bastard child! You’re motley crew aren’t as loyal as you’d like to believe are they McKenzie?
Inuit Guide (Broken English): Um... sorry to disturb Mr. McKenzie sir but... the boy has escape.
The two look over to see a Namor shape left in the snow with no tracks left behind.
Bertrand: Bloody hell, he didn’t die! I’ve seen this gun stop the heart of a bull elephant!
McKenzie (Whispers): Run fast and far lad. I can’t even begin to fathom the catastrophe we’ve started today.
Bertrand: Any way. You 3 have seen and heard enough. Time clear the tracks. There will be genocide McKenzie and the world won’t know but they’ll thank us.
Bertrand holds his gun to McKenzie head but in a loud smash of ice and water Namor explodes from below the ice sending all 4 of the explorers onto their backs. The ice chunks go flying into the air and all of them are soaked. Gareth and the Inuit are knocked unconscious. McKenzie’s joints ache from the blast, his face red from the cold water on his face, his vision is blurred from the force of the attack as he looks up to see Namor hovering above them. The first time in recorded history someone has seen another someone else fly. He hovers calmly in the sky looking down on the men, looking at them like ants with the sun glinting of his cool skin. From the other side of the gaping hole in the white ice McKenzie sees Bertrand pulling his Elephant rifle on Namor. Bertrand fires shots screaming at Namor. Namor dodges the shots swiftly like a branch swaying in the wind. Bertrand empties his clip and looks to reload when he sees Namor diving at him from the sky. Namors fist bludgeons in his face sending him tumbling across the snow like a ragdoll, blood splattering across the sheet of ice. McKenzie watches in horror. Namor slowly descends to the ground, staring at his work all the while. McKenzie gets to his feet.
McKenzie: Oh god what did she say she’d name you?... Namor. That’s right. Namor, Avenging Son.
Namor turns to McKenzie holding his icy gaze.
Namor: <I don’t care if you are my father or not, all I expect from you now is to leave me and my people be. If I ever see you again; I’ll kill you.>
McKenzie: I didn’t understand a word of that but I’m guessing it wasn’t a great to see you potential pop. Listen I’ve written all my finding on Atlantis in this note book. This is my life’s work. I want you to have it. I’ve laminated it so it can go underwater. Newest technology. We’ve opened up a huge can of worms today. I... I’ll see if I can find out anything about this S.H.E.I.L.D, see what they know about Atlantis. If they find it... you’re going to be in for one hell of a fight.
Namor: <Leave here.>
McKenzie: I’d better get going and start figuring out my story here. I just... my life is a failure. I’ve spent all my life chasing ghost cities and... I just wanted to know if something I made by accident turned out alright, because everything I do on purpose falls apart in my hands. Namor... my son. Make me proud will you. Be a hero.
Namor squints at him and then jumps back through the ice and is gone.
The pencil taps against the chalk board. My father’s deep voice echoes towards me, his complicated system of vocal chords and muscle tendons churning the vowels and consonants out like a well oiled machine, where my vocal chords actually are well oiled machines. A throat and repository system created in a test tube. His name is Phineas T. Horton. He has spent years locked up in this Brooklyn warehouse surrounded by the greatest scientific equipment money can buy and enough DNA to repopulate The Western Hemisphere. He is a genius and I’m not just saying that because he’s my father, he is literally a genius, and when the world sees me, his gift to the world, they’ll all know that he is a genius but to me he will always be father. My lungs heave and my mouth and facial muscles stretch, my vocal chords exert themselves. I produce the ‘I’ sound.
Dr. Horton: No Jim, that is the ‘E’ sound. I want the ‘I’. I think your hearing needs another looking at. We learnt the ‘E’ sound yesterday, Jim.
Jim wheezes sadly. Wheezes and grumbles are the only sounds he can make now. Dr. Horton puts his arm on Jim’s shoulder and squeezes ever so slightly.
Dr. Horton: It’s ok Jim. We’re making mistakes and that’s what learning is all about. We learn from our mistakes and that’s how progress is made; building upon our mistakes.
Dr. Horton: Ok. That’s enough for today then. You’ve made some real progress today Jim. You’ve learnt the ‘E’ sound all by yourself! That’s great isn’t it? Now how about we listen to the radio?
Jim slowly nods, a slight smile spreads across his face. Jim sits in his wheel chair, Jim is just a torso with a head and arms. His entire body is made of a combination of bio-mechanics, flesh and blood. His right hand is missing and there is no skin or hair on his face and head, the outline of his ribs poke through his skin due to his skinny frame.
Jim flicks through the Daily Bugle, his eyes skipping through the headlines, Hitler rises to power, Who is Adolf Hitler?, European time bomb, Jewish disappearances. It overwhelms him. He places the paper down on the desk and leans back in his chair. He tips his head back and breathes in the whistles of the streets. The trundle of cars, the laughter of children, the call of a street vendor, he inhales it all in through his ears. Dr. Horton never lets him go outside, “the world is too dangerous for you Jim, and it will eat you alive if they ever find that you aren’t one of them.” He hates this but sees the truth in his words. “Soon” Horton says “Soon they will all see you and all will accept you for who you are.” Nicky enters the room. Nicky is a lazy old German Sheppard, he wanders around the room, rubbing his face across Jim’s knees.
Jim: Nicky, what more do I need to be human? I talk like them, I look like them, I think like they do. What am I missing? I’m more human than you are and you are allowed to walk around the block all day long.
Nicky stares up at him, panting and smiling. Jim picks up the Bugle again and looks at the picture of Hitler on the cover.
Jim: This Hitler guy talks to the Germans and says that they need to be powerful and not let the world bring them down. To be the best human they can be, the most powerful. How can I do that? How can I be the best person I can be? I’d sure like to meet this guy, I bet there’s allot of things I can learn from someone as confident as he is.
Jim is now full assembled, he wears a white t-shirt and dark trousers. His hair is short and blonde. His deep blue eyes reflect all light they hit. He is strong and muscular with a slim tall build. Nicky sniffs Jims foot, Jim smiles.
2 weeks later, Stark Expo.
The audience erupts as Anthony Stark leaps onto the stage, his swivels round like a spinning top and plucks the microphone from the stand. He bellows into it.
Stark: Ladies and Gentlemen! I am astonished by the turn out we got this year. I on behalf of Stark Industries would like to thank you all for attending our 2nd ever Stark Exp. Here boy and girls is where we make the future, today! And I’d like to share will the world our newest and most exciting innovations our hard working men and women have made for us this year. First up, without further a due, it is my absolute pleasure to open the stage to one of the greatest minds of our time to the stage to unveil a project that is going to revolutionise everything! Please give a warm welcome to a personal role model, Dr. Phineas T. Horton!
Jim awoken by a sudden bump, he looks up to find himself alone in a small dark room. He is standing bolt upright in a glass tube wearing a bright red suit with golden straps on the cuffs, belt and boots of the thick spandex. The bottom of the tube is attached to a system of mechanical tracks. The last thing Jim remembers was being asleep in bed. He quickly begins to panic.
Jim: Um... hello? Dr. Horton? Where- where am I? Why am I wearing this outfit? What’s happening? Father!
A sudden jolt of the mechanical tracks surprises Jim as the tracks slowly starts pulling him upwards. He is brought into a huge hall filled with various stages and bright glaring lights, a large crowd of people watch intently as he rises from the floor. Jim is in shock.
He looks around franticly as the audience applaud him, he finds Dr. Horton standing at the front of the stage beckoning him for towards him. The glass tube makes another loud jolt and begins to descend into the hole and Jim stands there bare for the audience to see. Suddenly a photographer takes his picture and then another and another till the room seems to be an array of flashes and clicks. Jim stumbles away shielding his face.
Jim: No! No please stop, please just don’t do that!
The flashing continues.
Dr. Horton: Jim. It’s alright son please just calm down.
Jim suddenly snaps shouting loudly across the hall and in that moment he combusts, a huge flame shoots from his chest and engulfs his body. The audience scream and begin to panic as does Jim as he looks down at himself. The floor below him soon becomes molten steel. A guard rushes towards him and tries to hit him with a baton, the blow doesn’t connect as the baton if melted away before it can even touch him. Jim screams again hits the Security guard to the ground, giving him sever third degree burns. Jim turns to Dr. Horton.
Jim: What’s happening to me? Please! What’s happening? Why is this happening to me!!
Stark: Horton, do something! Your machine has gone mad!!
Jim: I am not a machine! I am a HUMAN!
Jim lunges at Stark but before he can reach him a bullet smashes into the side of his skull. Jim falls to the ground and his flames are suddenly extinguished, wiring and blood paint the floor of the stage. Jim slowly looks up at Dr. Horton, standing over him.
Jim: F—fat-ther. W-whyyyyyy-kzzt-?? Wha-a-a-tt diddddd I dooo-kttzzz-.....
Dr. Horton: Jim... I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything.
Next: First Coming.
All characters are owned by Marvel Comics