The Writers Guild Presents #53.8 - The Final Five

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Edited By cbishop
Welcome!
Welcome!

This is the final installment for this month, and it features five different writers: thespideyguy, jatoe48er, johnjo719 and waezi2, and myself. It's a good mix of fan-fics and original characters. Enjoy.

Malcolm Stone #5, by thespideyguy

Originally Presented in WGP #2
Originally Presented in WGP #2

Malcolm Stone is back. This is an original fic set in the present, I own the characters and this fic is rated T.

The Diary Of Malcolm Stone April 16th, 2013

I died 71 years ago today, It felt good. I was placed in limbo for awhile, now I’m back on earth. God didn’t want to deny me salvation but he had to, there was work to be done.

My soul mission is to find ghosts and help them get where they belong; most the time they go to heaven. I pose as a P.I., It’s a good job. The big man upstairs looks out for me, makes sure I have enough money, and that I’m taken care of.

Today a young man came to me and told me he owned a nightclub. He said people have been disappearing and their last known location was the club; fifteen people went missing within the last month. The cops are coming down hard on him but he swears he didn’t do it; I can tell he isn’t lying.

I asked if I could go to the nightclub, he told me it was fine and gave me a ride to the club. We pulled up and the first thing I noticed was how mundane nightclubs looked in the day. I had my share of jazz back in the day but I only saw them at night. Now all I see is corruption.

“You’re going to look out of place,” Todd told me. I always preferred my Brown coat and fedora. ‘The times have changed’ I thought to myself. Todd handed me a pair of ripped up denim trousers and a plaid shirt.

“These pants have holes.” I replied.

“It’s the style; you can’t look like you’re from the 40’s in a nightclub.” Todd said, “Well you can but I don’t run that kind of club.”

The sky grew dark and people started flooding in. ‘This isn’t music,’ I think to myself. ‘Real music is Buddy Holly or Benny Goodman, not music that sounds like a malfunctioning robot.’

I realized I must have looked out of place, so I tried to wave my arms around like these whippersnappers. I look up and notice that the master of ceremonies has this green glow around him. He realizes that I catch his eye and the glow gets more intense with the music.

The Diary Of Malcolm Stone April 17th, 2013

This morning, Todd woke me up and told me that three more people disappeared that night. Damn that god awful rock n’ roll music!

Marvel Mayhem: The Fabulous Frog-Man #5, by jatoe48er

Originally Presented in WGP #3
Originally Presented in WGP #3

Ok, here we go. I have chosen to submit Frog Man chapter 5 so I've written a short introduction to accompany the story...

What you are about to read is my latest chapter of the ’Fabulous Frog-Man’ .This is a re telling of Eugene Patilio’s origin set in the Marvel Mayhem universe started by @irishlad. ...Check out the full library of Marvel Mayhem titles here and feel free to catch up on Eugene’s misadventures leading up to his first night on patrol. ...Alternatively just enjoy /hate this chapter...

Chapter 5 The Plans built on Stilts

After about a 100 yard dash I managed ta catch up ta Uncle Wilbur who had down sized himself from the tantalising Stilt Man and placed the trench coat back onna himself. “Sorry Eugene, it’s been awhile since I’ve worn this and I just kind of got excited. I really shouldn’t draw attention to us when I’m dressed like this. Who knows if Mrs Kimble could have seen us and there is a nut running around offing us F and G graders.” I was glad Uncle Wilbur had slowed down and stopped talking like Dick Tracy.

“Any ways, two blocks away is our target, lets hop to it.” The voice is back.

Two conspicuous individuals was loitering inna dark one way ally off 33rd. “Those are the crooks” informed the tantalising Stilt Man, still keeping the serial voice although now at a whisper. He continued ta lay the plan down ta me. We was going to enter the alley ask them ta give up the M.G.H. Uncle Wilbur was going ta reveal who he was and I was just ta stand there looking as intimidating as I could. They’d get scared and make a break and leave the goods for us ta hand into the cops. Easy. Nothin could go wrong. Jeez, I don’t know how he has been defeated so much, this sounded like a pretty sound plan, so we leaped in ta action.

Excuse me gentlemen, I would ask you to refrain from your current transaction. Leave the product on the floor and leave this ally and take up a more suitable role in society.” Wow, now I know why Uncle Wilbur used that voice. He sounded so dashing in this scenario.

Ow ya ? An who the hells a yous ta tell us” replied one of the dealers.

I the tantalising STILT MAN.” Uncle Wilbur flipped off his jacket and with a whirl of gears he extended himself ta 8ft and held a striking pose. I took this opportunity ta give my best intimidating pose. What a sight I thought ta myself. The Stilt Man and me dressed inna boiler suit an ski mask. This plan was going great.

I didn’t expect their reaction. Perhaps it was a physiological reaction ta the intimidation, I don’t know , but they seemed ta break out in hysterical laughter.

Ha ha the Stilt Man and a Putty Man ha ha” retorted the other gentleman in the ally wiping his eyes. “This is gold. Wait till a tell the boys back atta the bar

CRACK

Uncle Wilbur had seemingly had enough. He extended his left leg out and socked the first dealer sitting him cleanly on his tuchas. His partner reached into his top pocket and pulled a pistol on us. With a whirl of gears and cranking of shafts, the tantalising Stilt Man swung a second blow knocking the pistol out of the hand of the second assailant.

The first dealer made a quick dart out of the ally ta escape the action, just like Uncle Wilbur had planned. What we didn’t plan was his exit straight through me. He knocked me clean to the ground and made offa down the street.

And don’t come back fiend” called the Stilt Man.

Screw this, if ya want the MGH so bad. Take it!” the dazed dealer yelled as he made back ta his feet and launched the MGH canister directly at me. Now, wearing a ski mask can affect your peripheral vision I can tell ya, as I didn’t see his toss. Let alone the canister hurtling towards me. It hit me clean in the face shattering at the same time and covering me in the chemicals inside.

I remember seeing him making a break away outta the ally. Uncle Wilbur’s plan had worked perfectly. We’d stopped the deal and no one had gotten hurt.

My vision began to swirl as I made it back ta my feet, and I knew I was gonna pass out

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..…………

Beep beep beep beep beep

“………… Dodson had been found dead in his apartment. His widow was unable to make comment at this time…..”

Beep beep beep beep beep

Slowly my senses was a coming back ta me, what is that, talking ?

“….now the sole heiress to the fortunes. It has been said to be suspect…”

Beep beep beep beep beep

No it’s a radio. Where the heck am I? My vision started ta come back from a blare of colour and I was able ta make out objects. I’m laid down onna bed and someone is sat in a chair at the end.

Beep beep beep beep beep

“Son, son are you ok, get that blasted radio off and get the docs in here now! “

Beep beep beep beep beep

I was pretty disorientated, an then it lit up inside my head like a light bulb why I was here. The tantalising Stilt Man and the felon who cracked the M.G.H over me. What a success. We stopped em. Me an the tantalising Stilt Man. We……..

Cranberry sauce. I’m in hospital and that was Pa in the chair.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

The Fire Within, Volume 1, by johnjo719

Originally Presented in WGP #45
Originally Presented in WGP #45

Side note: this story is set many years after Korra, let's say 50 years. So they have more tech like telephones and commercial and passenger flights, but no cellphones and computers yet. That's the era we're in right now. -johnjo719

Deep into the Fire Nation countryside, an old man sat in his courtyard on his cushioned mat, legs crossed. He had a cup of tea in his hand and his eyes were closed. His long, white beard hung all the way down to his belly button. For a man of his age, he was in good shape. As a matter of fact, he was in good shape for a man 20 years his junior. As he sat and meditated, steam rose from his cup of tea. Soon, the scent of tea filled the entire courtyard. The man was the very picture of a peaceful old man. Many of the local townspeople thought he was some retired businessman from Republic City, or some well off noble related to the Fire Lord. No one guessed at what he really was.

As he sat there, a streak of fire blazed across the courtyard heading towards him. Without even bothering to move from his seated position, he sipped from his tea, and he exhaled. As soon as he did, fire hot enough to melt the stones in his courtyard spilled out from his mouth and met with the flames that threatened him.

His assailant however, had anticipated the failure of his first attack. So he had dashed forward, hurled himself into the air, and brought his feet down in a sweeping arc. A bright flame manifested at his heel and jetted out towards the old man.

The old man threw his cup into the air with his left hand and used the same hand to bat the stream of flames away. With his right, two fingers extended, he manifested flames in front of him.

His opponent hurriedly adjusted his plan of attack and swung his leg around so that he landed in front of his target, one foot extended, one bent. With barely a second's pause, he sprinted the last few feet towards the old man and threw a punch with devastating force behind it.

The old man chuckled as his assailant's fist stopped just short of his face. His two fingers had found their way to his throat, and were only awaiting his command to release the flames they manifested so easily.

"You are still too loud, Jinn," the old man said amicably. "As long as I can hear your attack coming, I will always defeat you."

"True, but how quiet would one have to be to sneak up on the Young Dragon?" Jinn replied, lowering his fist and sitting in the same position as his former teacher and master. "Although, I'm not sure how well the 'young' part of your moniker fits anymore."

The old man chuckles at his former apprentice's joke at his expense. "I may be getting on in years boy, but remember the most dangerous type of assassin is one that is still alive."

Jinn bows his head in acknowledgment. He remembers well the lessons he was taught, and how painful they could be. He had many years yet before he could pose a threat to his master.

"Not that I don't enjoy reminding former pupils of mine of their place in this world, but why have you come to see me, all the way out here?" the old man asked.

"I've been sent to kill you," Jinn replies simply.

After he delivers that short and simple statement, the old man doesn't speak for several long moments. He sips his tea and closes his eyes, as he let's the passing breeze brush against his face. A nearby bird chirps and the sound of leaves rustling is heard. "I see. So that time has finally come," the old man said just as simply as his pupil had stated his purpose.

"Yes. My father has decided to move against you."

Meanwhile, in Capital City:

The room was dark with only a few candles to light the large space. Ridiculous really, when you considered the remarkable availability of electricity and the lanterns it powered these days. But the dimness provided a grim atmosphere, which suited the nature of the meeting that would be taking place in just a few minutes.

Rei looked around the room at his fellow conspirators, and he was pleased to count his wife, his daughter, and his brother among them. It was yet to be seen if his own son could be trusted.

Other than his family members, there were a few lieutenants from the nation's military, and only one general. However, they were all dedicated to the cause.

A certain amount of time passed and everyone in the room began to look toward Rei, their fearless leader, to start the meeting.

"Friends, citizens of our great Fire Nation, the time is nigh for the culmination of all our goals and plans. If everything goes according to plan, we should have a new Fire Lord very soon." Rei began.

He paused to look around the room. Some of his people looked...joyful. But most- the smart ones- looked somber. The road ahead was a tough one, and they knew most of their compatriots would die in the upcoming struggles.

"General Rufus Li, how goes the campaign?" Rei asked.

"Wonderfully. Many of the people are talking about how different criminal organizations are running loose throughout the country. Perhaps more important are the nobles, and they are highly upset with the new Fire Lord. They think he's weak and has no edge or control over his citizens. 'Something must be done' they say," the general reported.

"Excellent. Keep fanning the flames of dissent. Our new Fire Lord is weak," Rei began in disgust. "He must be removed and replaced."

"The Fire Lord still has his Wrath," a voice spoke out. The voice belonged to another of his key allies, so he let the interruption slide...this time. "He may be getting old, but the Young Dragon is still very much a threat."

"Are you still going on about that old fool, Jet?" Rei snarled. "Ryuu has been a thorn in our side, yes, but it's time the Young Dragon was slain. We have someone working on this as we speak."

Meanwhile, in the countryside, a few miles from Ryuu's home:

Fire Lord Roku was not pleased. He listened intently as one of his lieutenants reported to him. He had hoped he could spend his vacation time uninterrupted by talk of rebellion, but it turned out that hope was unfounded. As he knew it would be.

"A few of the nobility have been grumbling, but none have joined up yet. Only one general has betrayed us."

Roku nodded his head and stayed silent behind his wall of flames. The heat helped him to concentrate. The growing criminal element was becoming an increasing problem, one he had to solve soon. Something he had to fix before he finished off the rebels.

"The Brotherhood has served me well on this day," Roku praised. "Continue your good service and bring me the head of the Fire Nation's cabal," he ordered. He knew it would be a difficult task, but he was sure his men could handle it. It was what they were trained for, after all.

"Yes, my Lord," his lieutenant said. He rose and quickly exited the Fire Lord's chambers.

The next year was going to be an interesting one in the Fire Nation, Roku sensed. The heat of the flames seemed to double, then triple. From the flames, he thought he saw something...a vision. An aging dragon burned alive, and from its flaming corpse, a new, more powerful dragon emerged.

DC Re-Created - Valentine's Day: They won't get us alive!, by waezi2

Originally Presented in WGP #48
Originally Presented in WGP #48

Gotham City, Olympus...

"Let go off me, you big meanie!"

"Little lady, a casino is no place for children."

"I'm not a children. I'm all grown up!"

"Oh, for Pete's sake..."

"NOOO!!!" The little girl kicked out in the air after the security guard as he picked her up. "Bad man, BAD MAN!!"

"Don't be difficult, okay? Do you have your parents nearby, or..."

BLAM!!!

Everyone in the casino stopped at whatever they were doing and stared at the little girl, who landed on her feet in a way that could have won her gold in the Olympics. The security guard lay dead in front of her.

"JESUS!" One of the gamblers finally said. "That little girl just blew that guy's brains out!"

The seeming child giggled as she pointed her teddy bear with a hidden gun at the others. Before opening fire, with an innocent smile on her face, she said, "I didn't mean to!"

As the rest of the security personnel came, they were met by a grim surprise. A creature, more monster than man, had managed to get into the casino, and now charged at them with beast-like movements. They tried to shoot him, but if they didn't miss the agile beast, then his leathery skin protected him from the bullets.

"Hello, folks!" the green scaled creature yelled at the horde of gamblers, all horrified as he ripped one of the guards apart. "I'm Killer Croc! The lady calls herself Baby Doll. We will be your killers tonight!"

And killing was what they did. Razor sharp teeth and water guns with acid. Brute strength and acrobatics. Scaly skin and explosive marbles. So different, yet so destructive together. If it wasn't for the fact that it was horrifying, it would have been almost beautiful to see these two freaks' dance of death.

"Faster, horsey, faster!" Baby Doll yelled as she was riding on the back of Croc. She laughed as he clawed his way through the crowd with a bag full of cash over his shoulder.

"Here come the cops," Croc said as he heard the sirens. "You got us covered, Doll?"

"Baby made biiiiig boom boom!" she replied cheerfully.

And indeed she did. As the police arrived, several explosives were set off, providing Croc and Doll the distraction needed for them to get to the sewers, making their escape.

Next day, in a cottage near Slaughter Swamp...

"You spent ALL of our money on that piece of junk?!"

"Mmmhmm." Baby Doll was busy working on a big teddy bear-like machine. Bolts and oil covered the floor. "When Baby is done with her new dolly, we will have the biggest, bestest killer robot in the whooooole world!"

"Dammit, you haven't taken your pills today, have you? They are supposed to keep you from doing stupid crap like this! We need the money for-"

"Ooooh," Baby Doll said with a sassy smile. "Baby been a baaad girl. Been sooo naughty! And naughty girls need to be sp-"

"Marion Louise Dahl and Waylon Jones! This is the police!"

They froze. If Croc could sweat, he would have. Baby Doll's face lost any sign of emotion.

"You are surrounded!" the officer continued to yell in his loudspeaker.

Croc was the first to say anything. "No... How could they possibly find-"

"Please come out with your hands in the air where we can see them. This doesn't have to get nasty! You have ONE minute before we storm the house!"

"Dammit, this is not good! Doll, we gotta... Doll?"

Croc recognized the look in her face. This was one of those times where her mind was clear; where she was completely aware of the world around her.

"Mary... Mary, can you hear me?"

"I don't want to go back."

"Mary, please. We gotta-"

"I DON'T WANNA GO BACK!!!" She was panicking. "Oh, god, I don't want to go back to Doctor Crane! He, he doesn't wanna help me, he... h-h-h-he... Oh, Waylon..."

"MARY!!!" Croc picked her up and started to shake her. "Snap out of it! The cops are coming for us!"

"I don't want to go back to Arkham, Waylon." She looked at him with big tearful eyes. "I... I-Iiii-I..."

Croc could hear the door being kicked in, and he ran. He left the house with Baby Doll under one arm, and a bag of her equipment in the other. The house had a secret trapdoor that allowed him to get to the swamp unseen. To hide among the trees. But hiding and getting away was not an option. But maybe he could win a little time?

"Mary... Mary, I don't want to go back either. But if we are going to get rid of the cops, I need you."

She looked him straight in his yellow reptilian eyes. "We are not gonna beat them this time, are we?"

"... No... No, I don't think so... but I promise you this: we ain't going back to the nuthouse. If they want us, well, that's just too bad. They won't get us alive! Will they, Babe?"

"... We are just like Bonnie and Clyde," she finally said with a timid smile. "That's just SO romantic."

"Attagirl!" If he had a normal face, Croc would have sent her a warm smile as he gave her the bag with her gadgets. "Two monsters like us won't go down without a fight, eh?"

"They won't get us alive!" she replied, now with her teddy in her hands, ready for combat.

***

"NOOOOO!" It was quite surprising that it took three men to strap down such a little person to the hospital bed. "Baby wants her Crocy, Baby wants her-"

"Where is that godd**n needle, we need her to calm down!"

"AARGH!!! She bit me! That little b%tch bit me!"

"Hold her down, dammit! I got the needle ready!"

"CROOOOCYYYY!!!!!"

***

"So..." Baby Doll was asleep now, thanks to the strong sedation. "What now? We send her and her freak boyfriend back to Arkham, right?"

"Not this one. She is going to the airport tonight. National security, or something."

"Thank god! One nut-job less to worry about in Gotham."

No Caption Provided
Follow Baby Doll's future adventures in Suicide Squad.

14 hours later, by cbishop

Originally Presented in WGP #4
Originally Presented in WGP #4

This is a continuation of my G.I. Joe entry from Character Creation Contest #15. It's short, but I hope you like it.

Duke stood off to one side as Flint debriefed the group. "You achieved your objective and rescued the captive with efficiency and speed. You should have been better though." The squad waited for him to continue.

No Caption Provided

"Orange Five! If that wire had delivered any harder of a jolt, it might have taken you out of commission. Had that happened, you would not have been on hand to coordinate the evacuation of the civilians, and you would have been a casualty when Black Eight blew up the hot zone."

Orange Five looked pained at the assessment. "Yes, sir!" he answered. Green Six smirked at him from behind.

No Caption Provided

"Green Six! You turned your back on a man with a gun! If Purple Four hadn't had your back, you'd have been dead before you got in the door, and you would not have been on hand to help with the initial firefight in the atrium. Had that happened, we may have lost Blue Two as well."

"Yes, sir!" she answered promptly.

No Caption Provided

"Blue Two! The mechanics said you got that bike running in record time, when you decided to use it for the op. Nice job, soldier."

Two beamed. "Thank you, sir! It's what I do!"

"Plan on doing it again! You left it behind in the atrium, and now the squad needs a new bike!"

"Yes, sir!" answered Blue Two.

No Caption Provided

"Purple Four! Near flawless performance. You saved Green Six twice." Green Six winced. "And nearly lost your life twice, to two different gunmen, once you had the captive. Your objective isn't achieved until you're out though."

Purple Four nodded slightly and answered, "Understood, sir!"

No Caption Provided

"Red Three! You were lucky the rosary worked as a distraction! You should have been taking your shot instead."

"Yes, sir!" acknowledged Red Three.

"And had you lost it, how would you explain it to your son?" Flint winked. The group laughed.

No Caption Provided

"Yellow One! What is with the talking in rhyme, soldier?"

Yellow One answered quickly, "Yo Joe, I don't know! I didn't mean for it to rhyme, but it happens all the time!" Realizing he'd done it again, One answered, "It just comes out under stress, sir. I also lisp when I'm tired."

Flint raised an eyebrow. "It's a potential distraction, and it comes off cocky."

"Yes, sir!" answered One.

"But good driving," added Flint.

"Thank you, sir!"

No Caption Provided

"Black Eight, that goes double for you! You ever sing on an op again instead of acknowledging your CO, you're going to the brig! I don't care what kind of code you worked out beforehand!"

"Yes, sir!" answered Black Eight.

"All of you need to cut down the radio chatter - this isn't Ocean's 11!"

"Yes sir!" answered the group.

No Caption Provided

"Brown Seven! Considering your service record, and the number of times you've been busted back to private, I can. not. believe. that you are the only one who did his job to the letter, without any screw ups!"

"Thank you, sir!"

Flint added, "I couldn't understand why the Admiral recommended you for this, son, but now I'm beginning to see! We can only pick one of this group as a Joe, and I'm recommending you."

"Belay that!" barked a captain as he came through the door.

"Attention!" called Duke, saluting as he did so.

No Caption Provided

The group jumped to their feet quickly, and snapped stiff salutes. They were surprised to see that it was the man they had rescued the previous night. He still sported a black eye and split lips, but was otherwise cleaned up and in full officer's dress. "At ease. We were only looking for one new Joe, but I'm taking allof you. Your performances were flawed, and they will get better, but you worked well as a team. You will retain the codenames given for this mission. You've got liberty for the next twelve hours, and when you come back, you're working for me. I'm Captain Morgan. Codename: White Zero. Our squad is Codename: The Breakers. Dismissed!"

Heironymous #3: Heironymous Vs. Leviathan, by cbishop

No Caption Provided

798 A.D.

Manjaro the Manslayer stood a head-and-a-half higher than most men- even Finnrick the Fine. So with his broad shoulders, strong voice, and the studded mace he carried as his weapon, what he said carried weight with those around him. Especially when he was angry. His temper, backed by his mace, is what gained him the name Manslayer. So when Manjaro was angry, men were wary. When the person he was angry with stood their ground, they said a prayer to the gods for the fool’s soul. When the fool seemed unconcerned, those watching trembled with adrenaline, knowing they were about to witness a brutal death.

Such was the case aboard the karve, currently making its way across rough seas to a patch of swirling water. All men held tightly to their oars as they watched Manjaro yell into the face of their passenger- a man they called Draco. They called him this because of a necklace of teeth hanging across his bare chest, which he claimed came from a dragon. He had no hair on his head, a long, thick mustache that curved around his mouth and drooped down past his chin, was only a head shorter than Manjaro, and he was seemingly as unaffected by the cold as he was by Manjaro’s anger. He was the lone escort of a queen who had commissioned them for the trip, who currently rode in the hold with the livestock. An arrangement which was not to the men’s liking, and which Manjaro finally decided to speak up about.

“It’s bad luck for a woman to be aboard! We’ve lost five men to the raiding party, just out of port! Two to the waves! Three to the cold!” The men grunted their support with each count, and continued to do so as he listed the casualties so far. “Two disappeared in that damned thick fog we had a couple of nights ago! We lost one in the attack of the giant devilfish! And one went into the hold for supplies and never came back out again!”

Draco stood casually, with his fists on his hips, waiting for Manjaro to finish. Then he said, “I killed the man who entered the hold.” Everyone went silent at that, including Manjaro.

From his position overlooking the men at their oars, Finnrick spoke up. Not bothering to hide the anger in his voice, he challenged, “What did you just say?”

Draco looked at him with no more concern than he had for Manjaro. “I told you I would bring out whatever supplies were required by the crew. The terms of your commission included that no one may enter the hold. None may lay eyes upon the queen. He did both. So I killed him.”

The crew remained silent. Manjaro still stood, seething, chest heaving with his anger. So he smiled when Finnrick said, “Manjaro, kill him and throw him overboard. Then guard the hold for the remainder of the voyage.”

The massive Viking closed what little space there was between himself and Draco, and through gritted teeth, he said, “Now, Draco, you find out why they call me Manjaro the Manslayer.” Then he heaved the mace into the air, and brought it down with an angry roar.

Draco caught the head of the mace in his hand, stopping it’s swing. Manjaro gaped. The escort, still unconcerned, said, “That would be impressive, boy, if I were a man.” He then hit Manjaro in the chest with the flat of his palm, shoving him several paces backwards, where he fell over the first row of oar benches. “And I’m tired of telling you: my name…is Heironymous.”

Manjaro started to get up when Finnrick called out, “We’re here!”

The men looked out at the swirling water. “What do you expect to find here?” asked Finnrick.

No Caption Provided

As if in answer, a giant beast rose out of the water, it’s long, gray neck towering over the ship. Heironymous answered, “That- Leviathan.” Looking to the mage, Ulrich the Unnatural, he asked, “Do you have the item I entrusted you with?”

Ulrich produced a small glowing spike and answered, “It is here.”

Heironymous took the spike, looked at Leviathan, and said, “Wait for me to return.” He then ran for the stern of the ship, jumped to the rail, and bounded off at the beast. Both roared hellishly, drowning out the sound of the wind and waves.

“What the hell is he?” Manjaro whispered, clearly in awe.

“He’s a dragon,” answered Ulrich. “Now watch.”

“Row, men!” commanded Finnrick. “Get back from this beast!” Manjaro and Ulrich took a place at the benches, and all leaned into their oars, happy to put distance between them and the battle.

Heironymous was clinging to the base of the beast’s long neck, and did not go unnoticed. Leviathan swung it’s massive head downwards, trying to catch Heironymous in his jaws. Undeterred, Heironymous swung his fist in a backhand, knocking the sea dragon backwards, if only slightly. Leviathan roared in anger, and Heironymous fell into the surf. Leviathan lost no time in diving after him.

The crew watched the water anxiously, the area still frothing and swirling, and now angrily bubbling with the activity underneath the surface. Then the water broke suddenly, and Leviathan came towering out of the water again, and now grappling with a second beast, this one a deep, dark purple. The men gasped, and then Manjaro shouted, “Look! The new one holds the glowing spike!”

Finnrick, his blond locks dancing in the high wind, looked wild eyed on Ulrich. “What in the name of the gods is happening here, mage?”

“That’s Heironymous!” declared Ulrich. “This is his true form, Finnrick!”

Finnrick didn’t speak for a second. He just looked out at the battle. Then he looked back again and said, “Then the queen…”

“…Is also a dragon,” concluded Manjaro. “That explains the livestock, and why their lowing grows less and less as the voyage goes on.”

They turned their attention back to the battle, the dragons still grappling with each other, long necks alternately intertwined in struggle and then swinging away at each other’s bodies. Powerful jaws clamped down again and again on their adversaries. Fearsome roars raged over the storm, and bursts of flame lit the sky. The crew of the karve looked on anxiously, hoping for Heironymous’ victory, but only because he was at least the beast that they knew.

Finally, Heironymous swung the talon gripping the spike backwards, and then plunged it into the heart of the beast. Leviathan roared in pain- its loudest yet- and bit down once more on Heironymous’ body, before finally succumbing. His coils slackened and he fell beneath the waves. The crew saw what appeared to be several glowing items falling into the water with him. Heironymous dove after him.

Long minutes passed, and the water continued to churn and swirl. Then it began to calm, and still, Heironymous did not reappear. They waited silently, peering out into the now dark night that hung over the sea.

Finnrick was about to order the men to turn back towards port, when they heard something bump the side of the ship. Then all jumped back as Leviathan’s head swung over the rail, and thudded onto the deck. His mouth fell open, and several glowing spikes of various colors tumbled out. Heironymous, back in human form, pulled himself up over the rail, and found himself looking at the Manslayer. Manjaro gripped his hand firmly, and helped him onto the deck of the karve.

Looking at Finnrick, Heironymous said, “This is what we came for. Let’s head back.” With that, he gathered the spikes back into Leviathan’s mouth and dragged the head into the hold. Ulrich pulled the hold door shut behind him, careful not to look inside.

The crew was silent for a minute, and then Finnrick called out, “Heave to the oars, men! We’ll raise the sail when the storm dies down! Row!” The men pulled to the oars, and started the journey home.

I really liked what thespideyguy was doing with his Malcolm Stone story. If you did too, maybe you'd like to read the previous four chapters:

  1. .S Inc.Comics Malcolm Stone Vol 1: Cold Fear.
  2. .S Inc. Comics Malcolm Stone #2.
  3. .S inc. Comics Malcome Stone #3.
  4. .S Inc. Comics Malcolm Stone: Cold Fear Part one. (#4)

Jatoe48er has only written The Fabulous Frog-Man series for the forum, so here are the previous chapters to that:

  1. .Marvel Mayhem: "The Fabulous Frog-Man" Chapter 1.
  2. .MARVEL MAYHEM: "The Fabulous Frog-Man" Chapter 2.
  3. .MARVEL MAYHEM :"The Fabulous Frog-Man" Chapter 3.
  4. .MARVEL MAYHEM: ‘The Fabulous Frog-Man’ Chapter 4.

Johnjo719 wrote one more chapter to his story, so check out The Fire Within Volume 2. Then he came into the forum strong when he joined 5th Column Comics to write his Lex Hard series. You've probably seen that though, so check out his other group series Hellworld: The Rising Tide instead:

  1. .Hellworld: The Rising Tide #1.
  2. .HellWorld: The Rising Tide # 2.

Unfortunately, waezi2's Killer Croc/ Baby Doll story was a one-shot for DC Re-Created, but that's okay, because he wrote plenty of other stuff for DCRC, especially for their "Underworld Unleashed" event. And although I am really tempted to give you his amazingHorror Classics: Jekyll and Hyde series, I think that I'm going to stick with DCRC and link you up with his Denmark Under Siege series. So check it out and let him know that he needs write more of it:

  1. .DCRC Underworld Unleashed: Denmark Under Siege #1.
  2. .DCRC Underworld Unleashed: Denmark Under Siege #2.
  3. .DCRC Underworld Unleashed: Denmark Under Siege #3.

Although the obvious thing to do here is to link you to the rest of my Heironymous chapters, they're kind of all over the place. I have a lot of fun with them, crossing the Secret Service agent up with whatever seems like fun- I am particularly fond of Heironymous vs. Savage Dragon. Still, even though it's only two chapters so far, I think I'm going to go with Solomon Seal. Let me know what you think:

  1. .Solomon Seal #1: The Octopus in My Office.
  2. .Solomon Seal #2: I Knew I Was Gonna Miss Her.

That concludes The Super Summer Blowout Reading Extravaganza and my stint as host of The Writers Guild Presents. I hope you've enjoyed it, and I hope you've enjoyed rereading the fantastic stories that have been presented in WGP so far. Don't miss dngn4774's return to WGP next month!

From here, you can return to the main WGP #53 page, or go back to the Fan-Fic forum. Thanks for reading! -cb.

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Oh hey! I'm on this! Pretty cool I feel like I just won an Emmy or something

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#4  Edited By cbishop

@johnjo719: Just wrapping up the collection threads. The Writers Guild Presents is done unless someone else picks it up again. ...At least that's what I'm assuming since dngn4774 (who started WGP) is on indefinite hiatus.