Marvel: The Awakened One

The music kept playing.

The lights kept flashing.

The dance floor that had been packed wall-to-wall just seconds ago was now completely empty. No people. No bodies. Nothing.

Ben Urich—already weak and leaning on George for support—opened his mouth to say something. Then he instinctively looked at George.

The next second.

His eyes rolled back, and he went out cold.

”Ben!”

”BEN!”

George froze for a moment, but after seeing Ben slump unconscious, he snapped back to reality.

Hawk, who had returned to Gwen’s side, watched George cradling Ben Urich and shouting. He blinked.

Gwen had also caught on by now. She held out her hand toward Hawk.

”Car keys.”

”Here.” Hawk fished the keys from his pocket and handed them over.

Gwen took off toward George’s side, glanced at Ben Urich’s pale face. ”Dad, hospital.”

George—who had been trying to shake Ben awake—heard her and snapped out of it, nodding rapidly. ”Right, hospital. Let’s go.”

As he spoke, George scooped Ben Urich into a princess carry and rushed toward the exit.

Gwen followed close behind, not bothering to wait for Hawk.

Because... Hawk had other business to take care of.

After all, two months of costume seduction wasn’t going to earn itself.

Gwen had already given her orders. The figurehead leader of Blood Apocalypse. The real mastermind, Deacon Frost. Even the Council of Elders behind Deacon Frost. Anyone connected to what happened to her father tonight—

One sentence said it all.

They all had to die.

She hadn’t wanted Hawk to step in precisely because she didn’t want things to escalate. She’d wanted to follow her father’s path—due process, proper procedure.

But these vampires?

They didn’t just refuse her goodwill. They tried to set up a new wife for her father. They tried to give her a stepmother.

Did God himself give them that kind of audacity?

Since they wanted to play hardball, she’d let Hawk off the leash.

They didn’t want procedural justice? Fine. They could have Hawk’s version—guilty until proven innocent.

Bottom line.

Gwen was furious. And Hawk was about to be very thorough.

So—

Hawk watched Gwen chase after George toward the exit. His lips curved upward slightly. Then he turned and vanished from the spot.

He planned to make this quick.

Kill Blood Apocalypse first. Slaughter Deacon Frost second. Then clock out and drag Gwen to the costume shop first thing tomorrow morning.

Sixty unique outfits, no repeats.

Life was beautiful.

After Hawk left, George had already burst out of the building with his old friend in his arms.

The next second.

Something above him caught his attention.

George looked up instinctively—and his pupils contracted.

What he saw:

The bearded vampire from the private room was now suspended in the sky, his voice hoarse and sobbing.

”I was wrong!”

”Please, spare me. I was wrong.”

”Can anyone hear me? I don’t want to die.”

”...”

The bearded man cried out mechanically, voice raw. Then he noticed George looking up at him. His eyes lit up instantly, survival instinct surging.

”Captain Stacy! I was wrong! Please let me go!”

”...Dad.”

Gwen had caught up by now. Seeing George frozen in place, she was briefly curious—but then she heard the voice from above. She glanced up at the bearded man dangling in the sky.

She looked away almost immediately.

”Dad, let’s go.”

”But this guy...”

”He insulted Mom.”

Gwen’s tone was flat. ”So I had Hawk hang him here. He can wait for tomorrow morning’s sunrise. Let him feel how warm the sun can be.”

With that—

She jogged across the street, started up Hawk’s Audi A8, and pulled up in front of George.

George looked at his daughter sitting in the driver’s seat, waving him into the car. His expression flickered with something complicated, but he recovered quickly. He stopped looking at the bearded man overhead, ignored the desperate pleas that had already turned into frantic cursing, opened the back door, and climbed in with Ben Urich still in his arms.

Gwen likewise ignored the bearded man’s screaming. She floored the gas and peeled away.

Why pay attention to a dead man walking?

The bearded vampire—now screaming that this was discrimination, this was oppression—watched Hawk’s Audi A8 disappear into the distance. His curses gradually faded. The madness in his eyes slowly gave way to the hollow despair of a man who knew his fate was sealed.

He knew his ending couldn’t be changed now.

The moment the sun rose would be the moment he died.

But—

His voice dropped to a murmur.

”Why?”

”This isn’t my fault.”

”I was just following orders.”

”Why do I have to die?”

...

Elsewhere.

A core member of Blood Apocalypse woke with a start at an unfamiliar sound. Sensing something was wrong, he threw on clothes, sprinted to his basement, punched in the code to his safe room—the kind with bank-vault-level security—and dove inside.

Too bad it was useless.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

A thunderous crash. The Blood Apocalypse member’s eyes went wide as he watched the supposedly impenetrable steel door get punched through like wet cardboard. His back pressed against the wall, terror and panic flooding his face as Hawk emerged from the settling dust. His voice cracked with the same question the bearded man had asked.

”WHY ARE YOU KILLING ME??”

”Heh.”

Hawk stepped out of the dust cloud, casually brushing a few specks of debris from his shoulder. Hearing the cracked, hysterical question, he slipped his hands back into his pockets and looked at this core Blood Apocalypse member—courtesy of Katherine’s intel—with an expression of amused exasperation.

”Why am I killing you?”

”Why can’t I kill you?”

”What does killing you have to do with you?”

Hawk said this matter-of-factly.

The next second.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The core member—back pressed to the wall, both hands clutching a baseball bat in a desperate attempt at self-defense—vaporized on impact.

Hawk retracted his Phoenix Beams. His right hand emerged from his pocket, and a sphere of Phoenix Fire materialized instantly. He tossed it to the ground without expression.

FWOOSH!

The Phoenix Fire hit the floor and spread instantly, radiating outward from the safe room, consuming everything in every direction.

Just before the flames reached him, Hawk turned and vanished.

The next second...

He repeated the process. The list Katherine had compiled over the past week—Blood Apocalypse members and their home addresses—scrolled through his mind. He appeared inside a house in Brooklyn.

Five seconds later.

Hawk left. Behind him, another house burned.

But the fire was strange.

Put it this way.

The flames roared. But they didn’t touch the houses on either side—not even leaving a trace of soot on the adjacent walls.

The inferno didn’t even wake the neighbors, who kept right on snoring.

And Hawk had already arrived at the final name on Katherine’s list.

Ellani.

The figurehead leader of Blood Apocalypse.

”Home” wasn’t quite the right word.

Because Ellani didn’t have a home. In his own words, Blood Apocalypse was his home. His followers were his family.

What kind of person sends their ”family” to be vampire playthings? What kind of person funnels brainwashed blonde bimbos to vampires for... that?

Ellani and his Blood Apocalypse operated out of a rundown church in a crumbling neighborhood in Queens.

When Hawk arrived at the church, Ellani wasn’t asleep. To be precise, the man was beneath a statue of Jesus Christ, flanked by two freshly recruited blonde bombshells, going at it.

Ellani looked up mid-thrust.

Hawk gave a polite wave.

”Hello there!”

”...”

Ellani’s pupils contracted. He stared at Hawk, who had somehow appeared in the front pew without him noticing.

The two blonde women also spotted Hawk. They shrieked and scrambled to cover themselves with the bedsheets.

Hawk watched this unfold and let out a contemptuous snort.

His eyes flashed crimson.

POP!

POP!

The two blondes hiding behind Ellani on either side vaporized instantly. Ellani—caught in the middle—flinched violently. The anger that had just started forming on his face vanished at light speed.

The next second.

He looked up at Hawk, still seated calmly in the pew. His mind raced. Hawk had only killed the two bimbos. He hadn’t killed him. That had to mean something—

Ellani shot to his feet, mouth opening.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The Phoenix Beam struck Ellani the instant he moved. No warning. No hesitation. He vaporized on the spot.

Hawk clicked his tongue.

He’d actually been planning to trade a few words with Ellani first.

But—

The man had zero shame. Didn’t even bother covering up before standing. Nearly burned Hawk’s eyes right out of his skull.

Fortunately...

Hawk reacted fast. The instant Ellani started to rise, he’d vaporized the cult leader on the spot.

But after he was done, Hawk replayed the near-eye-scarring image in his mind. He decided to toss Ellani’s soul straight into the Blazing Prison for eternal punishment.

The moment Ellani’s soul materialized in the Blazing Prison—a realm composed entirely of fire and magma—he didn’t even have time to react before the searing heat consumed him. He respawned on a flat stone platform floating in the lava world.

This time he seemed to understand what was happening. But understanding didn’t save him from the rising magma swallowing him whole again.

You like it hot, don’t you?

Burn to your heart’s content.

Hawk’s consciousness briefly glanced at Ellani—screaming as magma devoured him again and again—before pulling away. He rose from the pew, locked eyes with the statue of Jesus Christ looming over the altar, and casually tossed another sphere of Phoenix Fire. Then he turned and walked away.

Next stop.

Deacon Frost.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

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