"What's up with all the long faces? And why is this guy tied up? Don't tell me he's been bitten?"
Ash Williams, grinning as always, hoisted his buzzing chainsaw high, the buttons on his suspenders clattering noisily. His posture made it seem like he was ready to saw Quicksilver in half.
And don't think for a second he wasn't serious. Or that he was just bluffing. This was the same guy who, on his first day crossing into the Marvel Universe from Evil Dead, had tried to take a swing at Daredevil with his saw.
Whether he actually landed that swing, well… that's another story.
"Don't move! Ash, that's my brother. He's not infected!"
A red energy instantly enveloped the chainsaw, forcibly jamming the chain mechanism. A harsh clanking noise echoed as the device ground to a halt.
Ash turned his head to see Wanda Maximoff standing there, one eyebrow raised in irritation, her hand glowing with crimson energy.
"No way… was he seriously about to cut me?" Pietro stared at Ash in disbelief. "Does this guy even ask questions before acting? He doesn't seem like he's socially awkward."
At that moment, a shrill, screeching voice pierced the tense air.
"Quack-quack-quack—Howard! Today, you'll be my feast—"
BANG!
The screeching was abruptly silenced by a single gunshot. Everyone turned in shock toward the source of the sound, which came from behind Ash.
Flapping weakly on the ground was an oversized duck in a tattered blue suit, trying to crawl forward. Its once-vivid feathers were now dull, gray, and unkempt. Lifeless, oversized eyes filled nearly a third of its face, adding to its grotesque appearance.
Scratching his head, Noah muttered, "Man, this thing looks like it wandered over from Mickey Mouse's side of the fence. Well, except for the zombie part."
Howard the Duck, or Howard T. Duck, had once been a resident of Duckworld. A freak accident stranded him on Earth, where he'd reluctantly turned to detective work to make ends meet, even resorting to working at a zoo for scraps during tough times.
Now, though…
Its once-adorable bill was twisted and grotesque, with decaying flesh stretched over its surface in mottled shades of gray and black. Sharp, uneven teeth jutted out in random directions, smeared with blood and bits of rotting flesh.
When it opened its mouth, the sight inside was even worse. Jagged remnants of decayed food were stuck between its teeth, and its tongue twitched like a lump of spoiled meat. A stomach-turning stench wafted out, enough to make anyone gag.
"Howard the Duck? I think I remember this guy. Isn't he, like, a half-baked superhero or something?" Pietro, perched on Noah's shoulder, craned his neck to get a better look.
"Well, if your idea of a superhero is someone who drives a mean taxi and spies on cheating spouses, then yeah, it's him," Noah replied dryly, raising his gun and putting the poor creature out of its misery with another shot.
"So, Ash, are you still playing with that busted chainsaw of yours?" Noah turned back toward Ash, but his words caught in his throat.
"Yeah, yeah! Without my trusty chainsaw, how else is the great Ash supposed to carve his way through this world, find the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis, and save the world from the fires of hell?" Ash declared dramatically, his voice filled with overconfidence.
"And now look what your little missy's done! The chains are jammed! How am I supposed to use it like this?"
Ash gave the saw a couple of frustrated kicks, muttering curses as he tried to fix the jammed chain. He yanked on the handle, jiggled the device, and finally managed to get it working again. The chainsaw roared to life with its deafening buzz.
"Alright, miss, looks like I'm back in business! Now, where's the next quacking zombie for me to fight? Bring it on!" Ash smirked, his grin equal parts heroic and deranged.
Wanda, unimpressed, rolled her eyes and pointed to Howard's lifeless corpse on the ground.
Before Ash could launch into another round of boasts, Wanda quickly changed the subject. "Ash, do you know anything about the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis? Where it came from? How it works?" Her voice betrayed a sense of urgency and hope.
Time was running out. If the Necronomicon could help end this apocalypse, it might just be worth the risk.
Ash had barged into the Avengers' compound less than an hour ago, shooting the locks off the door and yelling about the end of days, demonic possession, and an army of the dead. Now, with the zombie outbreak in full swing, his wild claims didn't seem quite so ridiculous.
"Of course, I know! This is the rise of the Army of Darkness! All we need to do is find the book and—"
"Stop. Just stop. I've heard enough. It's all nonsense," Noah interrupted, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
He had hoped Ash, as the protagonist of Evil Dead, might have some profound insight into their current predicament. Instead, all he got was more theatrics and vague warnings about apocalyptic armies.
Wanda looked at Noah for guidance, but he was already waving her off.
"Wanda, do us all a favor: take this guy and his chainsaw, and throw them as far out of the city as possible."
"Gladly."
With barely a second's hesitation, Wanda raised her hands. Crimson energy wrapped around Ash, chainsaw and all. With a flick of her wrist, the air around him warped and twisted, and then he was gone.
The eerie silence that followed was a welcome relief.
"I swear, that guy's more annoying than the zombies," Wanda muttered.
Noah chuckled softly as he reloaded his gun.
"So, what's next? Do we find the Quinjet?" Wanda asked, stepping closer.
"Nope," Noah said, a sly grin on his face. "We're going to find the Necronomicon."
"Wait, what?"
Wanda and Noah walked silently along the street. Her thoughts were preoccupied with Ash's revelations, and she remained skeptical about the authenticity of the Necronomicon.
Gradually, she couldn't help but tentatively broach the topic with Noah.
"That… about the Necronomicon, isn't it something Ash just made up?" Wanda asked cautiously.
"I only said Ash was talking nonsense, not that he was lying," Noah replied with a smile. He then added, "There's probably a Necronomicon somewhere in this world, but it's likely not what Ash or you imagine it to be."
Wanda nodded thoughtfully, indicating she understood his explanation.
"By the way, I realized I never asked for your name," Wanda said suddenly, smiling at him.
"I'm Noah White," he replied. Then, glancing at the figure floating behind them, he added, "And as for Pietro, he hasn't said a word since earlier—did you do something to him?"
Noah's gaze landed on the man floating in midair behind them. He rolled his shoulder in relief; ever since earlier, he had handed Quicksilver over to the Scarlet Witch. It was far easier for her to carry him with her telekinesis than for Noah to haul him around on his shoulder.
Wanda nodded. "Pietro's lost a lot of blood and needs rest. Besides, he can't be of much help right now, so letting him sleep is probably for the best."
As if to confirm her statement and prove he was still alive, a loud snore, reminiscent of a tractor engine starting, erupted from behind them.
"By the way, I haven't properly thanked you yet. Thank you for saving Pietro's life. He's always so reckless. If he'd been left alone in this apocalypse, he probably would've ended up as zombie food by now," Wanda said, bowing her head slightly to express her deep gratitude.
Well, technically, it might have been others ending up as his food, Noah thought to himself but kept the remark to himself. Instead, he shook his head lightly and smiled. "No need to be so formal. Saving him was also saving myself, after all."
"You're really too modest," Wanda said with a smile.
Having grown up with Pietro and relied on him for so long, she felt that no amount of gratitude toward someone who saved him would ever be enough.
Noah waved his hand lightly, about to say something, when his gaze fell ahead of them. "Oh, we're here," he said.
The Victorian-style double doors of 177A Bleecker Street exuded an aura of dignity and antiquity. Intricate carvings adorned the doorframe, as if whispering stories of the past. The golden door handles bore ornate floral designs, radiating elegance and sophistication.
However, as Noah and Wanda approached the door, their eyes were drawn to the bloodstains on the white steps. The blood trailed from the door handles down to the steps, forming a chilling crimson streak.
The vivid red of the blood starkly contrasted with the pure white of the steps, creating an unsettling and terrifying image. The splatter resembled crimson rose petals scattered across the steps, emanating a sinister aura.
Noah and Wanda exchanged a silent glance, their mutual understanding reflected in their wary expressions.
Whoever—or whatever—had attacked the Sanctum Sanctorum clearly possessed some knowledge of magic, as the protective wards around the place should have prevented any ordinary intruder.
"Do you know any protective spells? Like Seraph's Shield or something?" Noah asked, stroking his chin as he tried to recall something he'd seen in comics.
Wanda smiled and replied, "Of course." She then performed a series of hand gestures, activating a spell with a few short phrases.
A faint yellow glow enveloped both of them—this was the Seraph's Shield. Every mage who cast this spell had to visualize something that gave them a sense of security. For some, it was a warm home; for others, a reliable weapon. It varied from person to person, but as long as it evoked a feeling of safety, it worked.
Feeling the warm glow of protection around him, Noah nodded in satisfaction, recalling the information from his memory.
As she observed Noah's calm demeanor, Wanda felt a twinge of surprise. She hadn't expected him to know so much about magic, which intrigued her.
"Shall we go in? It sounds like something's happening inside," Noah said, lightly pressing on the shield before stepping forward to push open the blood-streaked doors.
The moment he opened the doors, the muffled sounds from within burst out with alarming clarity.
"Please, stop resisting, Wong! I really don't want to hurt you, but I'm so hungry!"
"Every bite I take makes me hungrier! And the hungrier I get, the more I want to eat!"
The zombified Druid Master's frenzied voice echoed through the hall as he conjured several tire-sized fireballs, launching them toward his target.
His voice was filled with despair and agony. The once-majestic blue cloak draped over his shoulders was now soaked in blood, stripped of its former glory and sanctity.
Blood formed grotesque blotches on the cloak, contrasting sharply with its original color. His sparsely-haired head now resembled a disheveled mess, with strands matted to his bloodied forehead.
Nearby, a completely bald man—Wong—furiously gestured with his remaining hand, summoning a complex array of runes. The air around him shimmered with mystical energy, forming a protective barrier inscribed with glowing symbols.
The fireballs crashed against the barrier, exploding in fiery bursts. Each impact caused the runes to flicker and fall apart, and the shield itself began to waver.
Sweat beaded on Wong's brow as veins bulged across his forehead. His physical and mental reserves were clearly depleting rapidly. Yet, he stood firm, channeling all his strength into maintaining the shield against the relentless assault.
Inwardly, Wong prayed: Doctor Strange, I know you can hear me. Please, come quickly. We need your help. I can't hold on much longer; the Sanctum needs your guidance.
He held on, hoping that Strange would sense his call and arrive in time to turn the tide of this dire battle. Without him, Wong knew, he would soon be devoured by his former comrade.
The Druid Master's next fireball burned even brighter and larger than the ones before. Wong's barrier wouldn't withstand another hit of that magnitude.
At that moment, a voice rang out across the Sanctum, cutting through the tension like a beacon of hope:
"Stop this madness, Druid Master! I've found a cure for the zombie virus. You can finally be free from this hunger!"
Noah's voice reverberated through the hall, drawing all eyes to him. Even Wanda stared at him, stunned. She hadn't expected him to claim he had a cure.
The Druid Master froze mid-attack, his expression a mix of anguish and confusion. His blood-red eyes glimmered with a faint glimmer of hope as he turned to face Noah.
Meeting his gaze briefly, Noah pulled out a small vial glowing with soft blue light. It radiated an aura of salvation, as if imbued with a restorative power.
He carefully placed the vial on the ground and took half a step back, his voice filled with deep sympathy:
"This is the cure, Druid Master. It can help you break free from the curse of zombification and restore your sanity and humanity."
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