05-17-2018, 08:26 PM
“Where are you going Marc, where!?" Bushman's cackling voice rung out through his ears. Clutching his AK-47 close and his boots kicking up sand as he restlessly ran as far as he could from the mercenary warlord and his men.
His feet ached at each sprinting step. It was never smart to run through Sudan’s desert due to scorching heat and the liability of sinkholes but in his case there was an exception to be made, especially when a horde of mercenaries were on your tail.
Bullets either trailed inches behind his body of above Spector head, each individual one hitting the hot sand, or open pillars from the nearby tomb. Marc hoped to God Marlene and the people with her got to safety. It was time to end the game Bushman exploited, to finish the heartless bastard and stop the needless killing. Marc knew the people of Selima didn't deserve what he and Bushman brought, but why now did he grow a conscience? Was it watching Marlene's father have his throat bitten out by Bushman? Or was it something old? Something locked away in the deepest pits of his mind?
Spector pushed away such thoughts pushing himself to move faster and keep dodging bullets. Firing a few potshots back at his hot on trail perpetrators he vaulted over several fallen ancient pillars. It was obvious that the tomb had been lost to the course of time but Marc was curious as to what Dr. Alraune found in his discovery of such an ancient Egyptian tomb. It was too late to be guessing about such things though.Running through the tomb’s entrance the sun’s hot beaming light stopped only partially eliminating the ruin.
Marc shivered from drastic temperature change as he made further and further through the tomb, his less than friendly followers still close behind and taking every shot as they could at him. He needed to find a place to hide, a place where he had the advantage. Noticing a dark narrow hallway Spector took it in a hope of getting that needed advantage and Zoomed in and out through the hallway, Marc soon finding himself in an a open room. Old tatured egyptian tapestries decorated it as a large almost eri looking statue stood in the center, a large white cloth draped over it.
Reaching closer to the statue close gun fire echoed booming throughout the room and the rest of the tomb. Marc gritted his teeth clutching his chest with his left hand wincing at unimaginable pain as he noticed four bullets had tore through him. Losing his footing Marc reached out for the statue for a last effort of resistance, his right hand latched onto white cloth that hung over the statue pulling it down as he collapsed to floor dead on the spot. The white cloth laid over him like a blanket.
Cackling echoed through the room reaching into every corner before escaping through the rest of the tomb.
“Poor Marc and to think that I was starting to like you?” Bushman scolded at Spector’s less than alive body. Stepping onto the white cloth and leaning close to Marc’s bleeding body he placed he placed the same ceremonial Egyptian dagger Dr. Alraune he tried to kill with, on Spector’s corsp.
“A pity you learned morales this late in the game. You were going to be rich, rich enough to be a king but now you lay dead making this tomb as your grave. Farewell Marc Spector perhaps we’ll see each other in hell.”
-
Howling wind came as gusts of cold almost empty air past him. Silent but very noticeable whispering filled inside his ears. The world around him was covered in darkness the only thing Illuminating his surroundings was the purplish hue surrounding millions of stars across the sky and in the center of all that a bright almost blinding moon. It was a full as he had ever seen and it… felt close. Close enough to see craters and holes from billions of years of meteorite crashing on its surface.
“Marc Spector.”
Marc jumped from the sound falling to ground his eyes meeting the owner of the mysterious voice. It was a being of pale white dressed in ornate egyptian clothing and jewels. In his right hand it held a white spear with a crescent moon at its tip. Its face was blank only carrying a set of glowing blue eyes the stared into Spector’s soul.
‘Who… Who are you?” Heart racing fear came over him.
“I am Khonshu, god of the moon and taker of vengeance.”
“What do you want from me?” he said attempting to pick himself up.
“I have been watching you for sometime, studying the way you think, the way you feel, the way you act.” The god stepped close to Marc his grip on the spear tightening. “You by all mortal accounts are not a good man but I know you have always longed for a chance. A chance to be the good guy a man of retribution and righteousness. I know that all your life you’ve never fit in, that you hear voices and change personalities. So I tell what if I could give you the second chance you ask for?”
Marc thought for a second on the what Khonshu said thinking hard on his offer.
“And what if I refuse?”
“Then you stay dead falling into a void of hell forever.”
“Then… I accept.”
The moon god reached through with his left claw-like hand phasing through his chest and clutching at his heart. Blue energy formed inside it before traveling to his eyes causing them to glow. Marc gagged and grunted in pain from the energy coursing through his entire body.
“Be reborn my Moon Knight.”
-
Marc’s vision was enveloped in darkness. His breath short as he tried to calm himself from his abrupt awakening. It was a dream. Only a dream, one that he had revisited him from time to time. The dream was of the past, it was a constant reminder of why he was the Moon Knight. He died but for some graceful reason the god of the moon, Khonshu, gave him a second chance. A chance to prove and redeem himself. So on that day, on the cold floor of the tomb wrapped in silver cloth Marc Spector became the protector of those who travel the night. He alone was Khonshu’s aspect for the mortal plain. He was the shepherd of the moon’s flock.
Marc's eyes narrowed as something shifted in the dark. To beat and sore he tried to tense up and brace for an attack or even anything. Slowly and yet quietly as well the bird skull of Khonshu's head peered through the darkness of Spector's cell until the god's body was in full view.
“You should have listened to Stark's Butler.”
Marc gritted his teeth.
“And wait for Cade or one of to be tortured? No, no I won't let that happen.”
“Listen to me my son, I sense great danger for you and the Avengers. There is great power here in this Omniverse and with that power comes a great evil.”
“Hydra?” Marc cocked and eyebrow.
“Perhaps, or perhaps worse.”
“We're not the original Avengers but I'm sure we can handle things.”
“You're still not listening to me! You must be ready for the darkness of evil, you and the others must learn responsibility with your powers. The evil you face is already ready for you and coming unprepared would result in things I dare not foresee.”
“So what? You're proposing training?”
“Precisely, you and the others must ready yourselves for what is to come. For in this special case I will be watching closely and testing everyone when the time's right. Though my son the most important thing for you and the others is rest and the ability to leave this prison.” Ash flaking off his suit Khonshu began to fade away back into the deepest parts of Spector's mind.
“Khonshu wait!”
Remember my son, I am watching.
His feet ached at each sprinting step. It was never smart to run through Sudan’s desert due to scorching heat and the liability of sinkholes but in his case there was an exception to be made, especially when a horde of mercenaries were on your tail.
Bullets either trailed inches behind his body of above Spector head, each individual one hitting the hot sand, or open pillars from the nearby tomb. Marc hoped to God Marlene and the people with her got to safety. It was time to end the game Bushman exploited, to finish the heartless bastard and stop the needless killing. Marc knew the people of Selima didn't deserve what he and Bushman brought, but why now did he grow a conscience? Was it watching Marlene's father have his throat bitten out by Bushman? Or was it something old? Something locked away in the deepest pits of his mind?
Spector pushed away such thoughts pushing himself to move faster and keep dodging bullets. Firing a few potshots back at his hot on trail perpetrators he vaulted over several fallen ancient pillars. It was obvious that the tomb had been lost to the course of time but Marc was curious as to what Dr. Alraune found in his discovery of such an ancient Egyptian tomb. It was too late to be guessing about such things though.Running through the tomb’s entrance the sun’s hot beaming light stopped only partially eliminating the ruin.
Marc shivered from drastic temperature change as he made further and further through the tomb, his less than friendly followers still close behind and taking every shot as they could at him. He needed to find a place to hide, a place where he had the advantage. Noticing a dark narrow hallway Spector took it in a hope of getting that needed advantage and Zoomed in and out through the hallway, Marc soon finding himself in an a open room. Old tatured egyptian tapestries decorated it as a large almost eri looking statue stood in the center, a large white cloth draped over it.
Reaching closer to the statue close gun fire echoed booming throughout the room and the rest of the tomb. Marc gritted his teeth clutching his chest with his left hand wincing at unimaginable pain as he noticed four bullets had tore through him. Losing his footing Marc reached out for the statue for a last effort of resistance, his right hand latched onto white cloth that hung over the statue pulling it down as he collapsed to floor dead on the spot. The white cloth laid over him like a blanket.
Cackling echoed through the room reaching into every corner before escaping through the rest of the tomb.
“Poor Marc and to think that I was starting to like you?” Bushman scolded at Spector’s less than alive body. Stepping onto the white cloth and leaning close to Marc’s bleeding body he placed he placed the same ceremonial Egyptian dagger Dr. Alraune he tried to kill with, on Spector’s corsp.
“A pity you learned morales this late in the game. You were going to be rich, rich enough to be a king but now you lay dead making this tomb as your grave. Farewell Marc Spector perhaps we’ll see each other in hell.”
-
Howling wind came as gusts of cold almost empty air past him. Silent but very noticeable whispering filled inside his ears. The world around him was covered in darkness the only thing Illuminating his surroundings was the purplish hue surrounding millions of stars across the sky and in the center of all that a bright almost blinding moon. It was a full as he had ever seen and it… felt close. Close enough to see craters and holes from billions of years of meteorite crashing on its surface.
“Marc Spector.”
Marc jumped from the sound falling to ground his eyes meeting the owner of the mysterious voice. It was a being of pale white dressed in ornate egyptian clothing and jewels. In his right hand it held a white spear with a crescent moon at its tip. Its face was blank only carrying a set of glowing blue eyes the stared into Spector’s soul.
‘Who… Who are you?” Heart racing fear came over him.
“I am Khonshu, god of the moon and taker of vengeance.”
“What do you want from me?” he said attempting to pick himself up.
“I have been watching you for sometime, studying the way you think, the way you feel, the way you act.” The god stepped close to Marc his grip on the spear tightening. “You by all mortal accounts are not a good man but I know you have always longed for a chance. A chance to be the good guy a man of retribution and righteousness. I know that all your life you’ve never fit in, that you hear voices and change personalities. So I tell what if I could give you the second chance you ask for?”
Marc thought for a second on the what Khonshu said thinking hard on his offer.
“And what if I refuse?”
“Then you stay dead falling into a void of hell forever.”
“Then… I accept.”
The moon god reached through with his left claw-like hand phasing through his chest and clutching at his heart. Blue energy formed inside it before traveling to his eyes causing them to glow. Marc gagged and grunted in pain from the energy coursing through his entire body.
“Be reborn my Moon Knight.”
-
Marc’s vision was enveloped in darkness. His breath short as he tried to calm himself from his abrupt awakening. It was a dream. Only a dream, one that he had revisited him from time to time. The dream was of the past, it was a constant reminder of why he was the Moon Knight. He died but for some graceful reason the god of the moon, Khonshu, gave him a second chance. A chance to prove and redeem himself. So on that day, on the cold floor of the tomb wrapped in silver cloth Marc Spector became the protector of those who travel the night. He alone was Khonshu’s aspect for the mortal plain. He was the shepherd of the moon’s flock.
Marc's eyes narrowed as something shifted in the dark. To beat and sore he tried to tense up and brace for an attack or even anything. Slowly and yet quietly as well the bird skull of Khonshu's head peered through the darkness of Spector's cell until the god's body was in full view.
“You should have listened to Stark's Butler.”
Marc gritted his teeth.
“And wait for Cade or one of to be tortured? No, no I won't let that happen.”
“Listen to me my son, I sense great danger for you and the Avengers. There is great power here in this Omniverse and with that power comes a great evil.”
“Hydra?” Marc cocked and eyebrow.
“Perhaps, or perhaps worse.”
“We're not the original Avengers but I'm sure we can handle things.”
“You're still not listening to me! You must be ready for the darkness of evil, you and the others must learn responsibility with your powers. The evil you face is already ready for you and coming unprepared would result in things I dare not foresee.”
“So what? You're proposing training?”
“Precisely, you and the others must ready yourselves for what is to come. For in this special case I will be watching closely and testing everyone when the time's right. Though my son the most important thing for you and the others is rest and the ability to leave this prison.” Ash flaking off his suit Khonshu began to fade away back into the deepest parts of Spector's mind.
“Khonshu wait!”
Remember my son, I am watching.
![[Image: RnOeCMi.jpg?1]](https://i.imgur.com/RnOeCMi.jpg?1)
![[Image: ytLTikp.png?1]](http://i.imgur.com/ytLTikp.png?1)