"Trick...": A Halloween Thread (Dr. Strange)

[John Kilroy]

Joyce Delaney responded to a cry for help coming the park. Somthing about A masked man with a machete chasing after them, supposidly it looked similar to Jason Vorhees from Friday the 13th but somthing was just a little bit off, kind of like an off-brand Jason. This had been the 3rd call in the span of an hour and a half but everytime she got thier, the supposed monster was just Gone without a trace, the callers were not hurt phisically, mentally she was not so sure.

This time however she had made it. She heard someone scream managed to follow the voice, pulled over and pulled out her gun.

"NYPD!"

The man in the hockey mask turned around and tilted it's head to the side.

"Put the Hatchet down and put your hands where I can see them."

The masked man started to walk towards her.

"Stop or I WILL shoot."

The man did not stop and she indeed pulled the trigger.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

six times directly in the heart all of them should have been kill shots but beyond being stagged by the force of the bullet impacts themselves it did nothing. The man continued to walk undeterred. He wallked slowly and mecingly, like a robot or some kind of ghoul.

"What the...?"

the masked man was on top of her and did a downward swing, which Joyce Narrowly Dodged, Somehow the masked man swing with enough force to slice into the police cruiser itself. Like somthing straight out of a slasher film. Her first instinct was to call for back up, but she knew enough about the slasher genre to know better. If bullets didn't hurt this guy, then asking for back up would essentially just be sending more pigs to the slaughter house...ooof maybe pigs was not the right word.

"Yeah if any superheroes could come along that would be great!" Joyce shouted at nothing as she ducked and dodged the Slasher's hatchet.

[Rift]

All Hallows Eve. Samhain. Halloween.

Whatever name used for October 31st the traditions ran deep. Much of the modern world, particularly within the United States, had elevated the date to the point that it was nearly as big as other better known and more meaningful holidays, at least when considering the sheer amount of money the commercialization of it brought in. Those in the know however understood that the day was of far more importance in mystical circles. After all, the veil between realms was thinnest on this night and the things that went bump in it were both more numerous and stronger than most other times of the year.

It was for this reason Doctor Stephen Strange had been working almost non-stop for a week to get to the bottom of a series of odd encounters that had been making waves both in the normal world and in the mystic planes.

Reports began trickling in of people in New York experiencing strange things. A massive alligator in the sewer attacking a city worker only to vanish into thin air before it could take a certainly fatal bite. Spiders the size of Great Danes giving staff and residents of a nursing home the fright of their lives. A spectral entity with a hook for a hand trapping would-be ghost hunters within the halls of an abandoned asylum.

Weird as they may have seemed, they were honestly quite tame compared to much of what the Sorcerer Supreme had encountered in his long career. Scary as the encounters had been for the victims they paled next to Shuma-Gorath, the machinations of the Dread Dormammu, the vilest spells of Mordo, or even the schemes of various Hell Lords. In fact it was not until things had escalated that it truly came to Strange's attention.

A perfectly healthy, young fitness instructor suffered a heart attack. Though she'd survived, her tale of being chased by a burned figure with razors for fingers raised eyebrows. As did the story told by a Vietnam veteran who nearly shot his family during a birthday party thanks to seeing zombified Vietcong in the backyard. When a small child was near catatonic, shaking back and forth after having muttered something about a monster in his closet, an associate of Stepehen's from back during his medical days had reached out.

Having checked the scenes of each encounter, Strange found the tell-tale signs of mystical energies having been in the area, slight at first but growing at each site. Whatever was happening the culprits seemed to be growing in strength with each witness, manifesting as their fears and amping up energy as the victims grew ever more scared. At the rate it was escalating it was only a matter of time before someone was fatally injured. With Halloween being a night dedicated to fear there were mere hours left to prevent a tragedy.

Having used a tracking spell keyed to the energies he had found, Strange was drawn towards the park, the Eye of Agamotto lifting and pointing the way like the needle of a compass. As he emerged midair from a portal he saw a young woman, law enforcement from the looks of it, battling a hokey mask wearing assailant.

As much as I appreciate the classics, I must say this schtick hasn't been effective since the end of the eighties, he thought.

Rapidly making gestures with his hands he sent a green bolt of energy into the masked slasher with enough force to lift it up and off of the officer. It crashed into a nearby tree, seemingly stunned.

"While I am certain the officer would make for an excellent Final Girl, something tells me she would dislike such typecasting," he said, floating down to her location.

Extending a hand to help her to her feet he offered a faint smile. "Apologies for making assumptions. With so many out and about in costumes this evening I suppose I shouldn't have assumed, but you seem to handle yourself better than someone pretending and you seem too mature for Trick or Treating. Doctor Strange, at your service."

[John Kilroy]

Joyce let out a chocking gasp as she felt the masked slasher grab her by the throat and lifting her up with one hand. As the Slasher wrapped his hands around her throat she felt her vision blur, as she let out struggled grasp. Still it didn’t keep her from fighting, she kicked him multiple times in the face as she reached into her belt and grabbed a taser jamming it into his \neck. The Slasher began to twitch and spams letting go of her. She regained her breath and managed to get on her knees. She saw the silhouette of the slasher on the ground,. She looked up to see the slasher looming over her. Seeing him, Joyce could not help but think that he seemed just a little bit peeved.

The Slasher swung down at her again, but before it could connect, Joyce grabbed the hatchet by the handle. Struggle as she might, her peak strength for her weight and physical condition was nothing compared to the slasher’s superhuman strength, the Slasher forced her to the ground and raised his weapon for the final blow but before he could connect, Joyce watched in awe as he was seemingly hit with some kind of green bolt and sent flying into a tree. She looked up to see her rescuer floating down to meet her. She recognized the distinguished middle aged man with Salt and Pepper hair as The famous surgeon Dr Stephen Strange…but he was wearing some kind of weird get up.

She could not help but smile as she said something about how she’d make an excellent final girl but she may not wanted to be typecasted as such.


“Well…*pant* to be fair…*paint…given my occupation, there are worse things to be typcasted as."

He then apologized for making any assumptions and introduced himself as he helped her to her feet.

“Joyce Delaney, New York Police Detective.”

She began to explain her side of the situation. “We’ve been getting reports all of the place of people being chased by various Halloween spooks, but by supposedly the monster vanished right before I’d pull up. Managed to get this one though.”

She then looked at the unconscious attacker and it seemed to just…vanish. She looked back at Dr Strange.

“Alright let’s cut to the chase. Between your presence here and the fact that I shot that…thing six times in the heart and he barely even staggered, I’m going to assume he’s not human and there is some kind of weird Halloween Hocus Pocus. Look, no disrespect to you, it’s not that I believe you can’t do it alone, but this is MY city too and when I took up this badge I made an pledge to protect it and I plan to keep to that pledge. I’m not going to be one of those useless cops that sits on their butts eating donuts while the men in tights do all the work. So…any weird magic enchantment you can put on my gear, or weird magical equivalent of my gear you can give me to help you Klaatu Verata Nikto this crap would be greatly appreciated."

“Gwen!”

Joyce eyes widened as she looked over to see Spidercide swing towards her. He landed on all fours and then rose up and hugged her tight.

“Oh Gwen thank goodness your safe. I heard you struggling against something on the radio, I tried to race here as fast as I could but I’ve been having to take down weird monster’s all night…why are you staring at me like that?”

Joyce nugged her head to the direction of Dr Strange. Norammy she would not care whether she was called Joyce Delaney or Gwen Stacy, in fact she preferred it when Josh called her Gwen, but now there was someone with them, and considering The Night Gwen Stacy died was not exactly a private tragedy (To this day people were putting flowers next to Gwen’s Grave) having someone who happens to look EXACTLY like the dead woman in question was going to raise too many questions. Spidercide eyes widened as he realized his mistake and looked beside him to see the sorcerer supreme.

“Oh um…I meant Joyce Delaney, it’s nice to know one of New York’s finest is safe.”

Joyce could not help but wince as she mentally face palmed. *Yeah real smooth Parker.* she thought silently.

[Rift]

Strange couldn't help but grin as the woman spoke. Her reaction was unexpected, but not unwelcome. When he'd first began his practice as an occult consultant, well before the rise of superpowered beings, he'd largely worked alone. There were numerous times when he'd crossed paths with law enforcement and more often than not they were either disbelieving or an outright hindrance when it came to stopping whatever supernatural threat had brought them into contact with him in the first place. Often times he felt it would have been useful to have a friend on the force, someone who was willing to work with him to get the job done. As he'd understood it most of the costumed crowd avoided such entanglements with law enforcement, save for the times he'd heard of Spider-Man cooperating with an officer or two and more recent reports of a detective working the "freak beat" that used Moon Knight of all people for consulting on weird cases.

"I see. Your commitment even in the face of the unknown is admirable, but I couldn't begin to think of what enchantments may be of benefit until I learn exactly what it is that is happening," he replied.

Before he could say more a costumed hero arrived, seemingly already familiar with the woman albeit calling her by a different name. At first, he almost thought that it was Spider-Man albeit sporting a costume with an inverted color scheme. Ending up with a mismatched costume was just the kind of luck or rather lack thereof that seemed to dog Peter Parker. He even sounded much like Peter, but as he landed Strange could tell that this was not the web-spinning her he was familiar with. His magical senses alerted him that though he seemed very similar, even in movement, there was something different about this man.

Hardly surprising given the rise in wallcrawling heroes. I really should make an effort to acquaint myself with the newcomers. My introduction to Kaine a few months back and his subsequent escape from the Sanctum Santorum before I could finish helping him proves that even now, after years of working with the Defenders and the Avengers, my tendency for solitude has me playing catch up when it comes to the new blood in the hero game, he thought.

Choosing not to make his awkward, Parker-like attempt to cover his slipup even more uncomfortable, Stephen continued on as if he'd not caught it.

Clearing his throat he said, "Yes, well I too have been hearing tale of various encounters with entities that are either works of fiction or otherwise seemingly unnatural. They've been growing in intensity and happening more frequently. I fear that this escalation will lead to tragedy, especially tonight, if it is not dealt with swiftly. As you saw for yourself they've gone from frightening to a far more corporeal danger. That thing, whatever it was, seemed to take on aspects of the role it was playing, as if the longer they embody whatever it is they are pretending to be, the more real they become. There are a number of beings that fit the description and several dark spells that could be the culprit, but we haven't time to go down the list. Excuse me a moment."

Stepping away from the pair he held his hand out towards the spot where the faux-Jason had been moments before. He had no doubt that just like the movie slasher, it would have picked itself up in dramatic fashion, unfazed, had he not been there. Suddenly, the amulet around his neck began to glow.

"Let the Eye of Agamotto shine light upon this mystery and reveal that which is hidden from mortal eyes," he said as a golden hue emerged from the amulet, the glow spreading across where the being had last been.

Reality seemed to shift for a moment, like a camera coming into focus as an outline of the slasher appeared at the bast of the tree. Green blotches, like the spilled chemicals of a chem light, stained the bark and the grass in a pattern reminiscent of blood stains. The image then shifted again, like an old VHS tape being rewound, and the faint outline of something could be seen. Long, twisted, almost segmented it resembled what bacteria beneath a microscope may look like only much larger.

Muttering something he knelt down and extended his index finger and dipped it into one of the splotches. A squealing sound like ice exposed to great heat sounded as the mark disintegrated.

"Interesting," he said.

Turning back to Joyce and the wallcrawling hero he said, "This is most disconcerting. What we have here are beings that should not be able to exist on this plane of existence. They are called phobovores, fear-eaters. There are various beings that could fall under that phylum, but these are a specific type. Chances are you've encountered them or their kind before. They are loyal servants of the Fear Lord, Nightmare. If you've ever had a particularly bad dream it was probably them. The induce nightmares taking the form of what you fear. Monster under the bed, an abusive ex, parents disappointed in you, the list is almost endless. While you sleep and are frightened it creates a type of mystical energy, a psychic reverberation if you will. These things feed upon that fear with a portion of it going to their master almost like a twisted version of a tithe."

As the light died down, the Eye of Agamotto closed, and the scene returned to normal Strange approached the pair. "Problem is, they are non-corporeal entities native to the dream realm. They do not have physical forms. Crossing over to our realm they are cut off from dreamers. Not only should they not be able to manifest, but they should starve and wither to nothingness in short order. But they're not. They are only going to grow in power and considering what tonight is? There's plenty of spooky things happening, lots of fear to be had. Worse yet? They might open whatever way they've used to come here even wider letting in not only more of their kind but other things that are much, much worse."

Pinching the spot between his eyes for a moment he wondered just what was happening.

Nightmare tends to be more subtle than this and even if he found a way to let his minions run amuck on Earth, he has little to gain from it. His attacks tend to be more...personal, he thought.

"I have to make a stop to get a few things and to better track this threat. Ordinarily, I would say that the danger is such that civilians not versed in the mystic arts should sit this one out. That said I get the sense you wouldn't listen to me anyway, especially not when you are friends with a hero of the wallcrawling persuasion. Besides, these things are the servants of one of my oldest enemies and likely know me well. Frankly, I'm not easily spooked so finding, let alone seeing them, may be a time consuming process and time is of the essence. So if you are still committed to be a part of this, we need to drop by my home first," he said.

Waving a hand a sparking, golden circle formed into a portal. Smirking he turned back to them, remembering her earlier reference.

"And don't worry, no magic words necessary, at least none you have to remember. And if we are lucky nobody needs to lose a hand and replace it with a yard tool either."