STORY 9 ( DROPPED)

He slowly opens his eyes to the pitch black.

Light rhythmic tapping could just be heard over the occasioning rolling thunder.

Quickly noticing something's laying on his face so he gives it a head nudge off and attempts to look around. If the stifling space and the smell of earth are any indicators, he's underground too. Why oh why can't she ever let him be somewhere normal? Going through the usual routine he immediately checks his person and surroundings.

By fumbling in his pockets he found pretty much only a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. It took a couple of tries but, the cheap thing finally shone. The sudden light makes his eyes water, but when they adjusted he got to take a look around. Wooden boards surrounded him, narrowing towards his feet. The wood and build are probably as cheap as his lighter.

" A grave... ugh!" a feminine voice comes from his mouth. Okay, a problem for later.

Looking around once more he sees the thing that fell off his face, a gun, and bullet casings littering the inside. He also spots the watch on his wrists and on his ring finger a ring far too big for the dainty hand. It's a gold ring with what looked like a pen engraved in a big, round blue stone. He slips the gun into his... skirt and puts the lighter back in this pocket. He gives the top of the casket some pressure. Along some unseen hinges, the top gave way a little and a bit soggy dirt rolled in.

" One more time."

This time he shifts as much as possible to the opposite side of the hinges. He readies himself into a bench press readying his legs to assist. In one motion the waterlogged wood flies open. The cold rain was more than ready to greet his open eyes.

" Ah! Dammit!"

After rubbing his eyes and cursing Zeus for the dick he is, he sits up and crawls way out of the grave, and the 6-ish feet hole. Looking back at his prison he flips it off.

Zeus must've seen because a disappointing flash lights up the night and the precious casket. For a split second the pools of dried red and holes adorning the inside. A sharp chill travels up his spine, someone must've wanted him very very dead.

" Well, at least they're lazy," he reassures himself. I mean, they barely covered it.

He was in a small cemetery, just big enough to fit around twenty graves. The small site was surrounded by a metal gothic fence opening up to a large lichgate. The entrance was beautified with barely visible vines and an unreadable large placard at the top. Beyond it was a mowed lawn being pelted by the night's rain. Just outside the entrance was a lightened yellow brick road leading to a large manor.

With nowhere else to go, he walks toward the manor. As he walks his bare feet feel the brick road beneath. The sleek and wet stone under his feet reflects an ominous but relaxing light. The pretty long and winding road before him offers no reprieve. Like it's taunting him 'go ahead and try, you don't have the balls to get to Emerald City.

' Knowing her she'd... let's think about it later,' he muses with a wry smile. She always did have a sense of humor.

Lazy as usual, the first signs of dawn greet him good morning. Useless against the dimming anger of Zeus, but nevertheless welcome.

It became apparent. This world felt wrong. The influence of the pantheons and ascended here but… wrong. Once you ascend you have a feel for these things. Like the whisper of a friend in the back of your head. Here only some sing, the usual choir missing singers. Instruments off-key.

And the most beautiful one is muted. What happened?

Eventually, he approaches the last curve and is at a front door. The manor was quite frankly huge and had no reason to be this ornate. Situated on top of a hill, the property was riddled with all sorts of gold-colored highlights. The first floor was built out of red brick and had huge windows. The type you'd see at some sort of vacation home. The second floor was ebony planks and the aforementioned highlights seeped into every crevice of the building. A driveway and garage that wasn't seen from the cemetery had the same yellow brick roads.

'Not even caulking here, rich pricks are too good for the modern things.'

Looking at the door it has the same engraving his ring did.

Already sensing things were going to get annoying he takes the initiative.

DING DO-DING-DO-D-D-DIN-DING DONG D-D-D-D-D-D-

The only way to approach was with tact like a toddler. How else could he get them? Frankly, he looks like he just rose out of a grave, smells like it too.

It took a solid minute of incessant ringing.

The sound of stomping feet could be heard. The door swings open, and a man who looks like he's in his mid-50s glares. The poor man looks exacerbated, the cops wouldn't dare to ring like that! His pristine butler suit practically shines. Coming out the door the inconvenienced and well-kept man hisses,

" Who the hell- it six in the morning! God knows-"

" Aht! Watch your mouth." Curse god like that and the wrong one will curse you back.

" .... wait-a-minute."

" Sir I'm saying this out of love," the silky voice some from my voice, " You shouldn't say things like that."

He takes a long look at me. Up and down his black eyes appraising me behind spectacles.

" Maria?" He asks after a while.

" Who's Maria? Sir I'm just trying to find my way to... um, whatever relocation services are in this world."

He doesn't reply but slowly reaches for my right arm. He doesn't grab it, he just slides till he can appraise my hand. Taking a long hard stare at my ring I try to interrupt his thoughts,

" Kinda creepy, but I'll let it slide if I can go. Look, I didn't steal the ring my god doesn't allow theft ( from the living), you can have it back, just point me in the right direction."

The butler does seem to be fully listening to me. His face still absorbed in the ring he went from glaring to contemplating.

He gently rotates my hand up, with reverence he whispers to the gem, " A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others."

The ring glows. The gold glistens and the gem hum on my hand. The soft vibrations start to rattle the bones in my dainty hand. Like a light from a camera, it flashes and morphs into a gorgeous gold and blue fountain pen. The magic came as a small surprise. That's odd I didn't feel Hecate's touch here. He curls my hand to hold the pen.

" Maria, I'm so glad your home," The butler drops to my level and gives me a warm hug, " we

haven't seen you in months you- you changed so much! Come inside please, you're freezing."

He tries to tug me inside. Stranger danger! " Sorry sir, but I don't even know your name."

The butler turns around looking hurt, " It's Boris, Maria. I know you left on bad terms, but this will always be your home. Rose misses you so much please just come inside." A sigh escapes me.

Of course, this body has drama. " Okay."

Just outside the door some butlers and maids are on standby. One of them was literally of fire, another built like a tank and the last looked like a nervous wreck.

He rushes me through the manor and right past them. My bare feet slap against the cold quarts floor. I can feel their eyes boring hold through me and I do my best to ignore the fact I'm dripping like a wet dog. Boris howls out,

" NOW! Alfred, fire! Becca, notify the lord! Maria is back and ACCOMMODATIONS FRANCINE!"

We zoom up the bifurcated staircase hand in hand and head to a cozy bedroom.

The bedroom is covered in shades of brown. A shag rug covered the floor wall to wall. Nothing stuck out as ornate or characteristic. It came across as more of a high-quality hotel room. There was still a queen-sized bed, a couple dressers, a computer set up, tv, and the likes.

A fireplace with the same brick as the outside sat next to a door.

He sits me down in front of the unlit fireplace and rips the sheet of the bed next to an open window. He wraps them around me and rushes to the room next to the fireplace. A peek into there let me know it was a bathroom. He places a towel in front of me and rummages through a dresser. Once, again he rushes over and places a cheezy onesie next to the towel. They were covered in statements like 'POW', 'ZIP', 'ZOOM' and 'BANG'.

" Please, give us one second Maria." He gives a quick smile and rushes off again.

Finally alone with his thoughts, Maria grumbles to himself. It might've been a mistake coming here. Hell, he's been buried a half-mile away. And what better way to make sure the job is finally done than to bring them inside get them comfortable, then finish the job. He knew well, someone wanted him very dead and the butler ignored the bullet holes and blood riddling these clothes. Maria had to admit if they did plan on killing him again they were doing an excellent job.

This world must have forces at work that enable defense and offense. Kinda comes with the presence of any pantheon. Though he quickly shot down the idea of fighting. He has no idea how to use it or what's at work.

Glancing around Maria tires tries to plot some escape routes. The only truly viable option was an open window, he could've sworn he spotted tasteful bushes and greenery outside. The rolling lands of fresh-cut grass were discouraging but, with enough adrenaline anything possible. Hiding was an option too. The bed looked high enough to hide under and the bathroom might have a couple places too.

Sadly thinking was never my strong suit. The sound of rushing clacks reverberated outside of the open door and flame-man Alfred walks in. World forces at work must make his clothes not burn off. In his arms were a pile of dried logs. I think he's smiling at me. The flames on his head dance happily upon walking in.

A voice in the back of my head tells me I'm about to be burned alive; the wood in his arms is just fuel for a pyre.

" Mi-mi were so glad to have you back! Francine is getting your favorite ready!" His words fly by. The flame-man must not have to breathe, "Ah-she's-gotten-so-much -better-she-only-breaks-things-five-time-a-day-now! I'm still curious about her quirk too! See so secretive, so seductive, so mysterious, so stunning, so heroic, so bombastic-GASP! Do you think she thinks about rice cakes?!"

I'm left stunned and confused.

What was that? All the oxygen must go straight to his head.

He doesn't even wait for a reply, just dances toward the furnace. Humming some tune and shaking his rump. The impressive part is that he continued doing it while arranging the wood. I can practically smell the heat wafting from his flame ass as waves it in my face.

Once he's done, he faces me going stiff.

" Watch miss, I've been practicing as you told me."

His words were much slower in comparison to before.

He grabs his face and strikes a dramatic pose.

" Flame on."

The furnace ignites into a roaring fire, like flames cheering on his greatness. Michael Flameson truly did a fan-worthy performance. The dawn lighting, the music still coming from his face, the pure boldness… my hands move on their own giving him a clap.

" Thank you, " He tips his fake fedora, " I-knew-my-greatness-would-shine-one-day! I just wish I'd get bonded did you know-"

" For ONCE in your pathetic life. Shut. Your. Mouth Alfie." A gruff voice comes from the door. The tank woman from before has to duck herself through the doorway. " You're not even that good."

Alfred's flames erupt into wicked blues, " MUST you ruin it Ichy-Bichy!"

The furnace from behind him quickly dims into a nice heat. It must've known its time to shine was over.

" Ugh, I told you once, I'll tell you again. Call me that and I beat you to smolders."

" And things like that are why you can't find a man." He replies like educating a toddler.

" I've found a man!"

" Your man-fingers arent a man Becca-techa. Wear a dress or something! Look at you! Your in a butler uniform!"

Huh, even he doesn't even dare to say it again. Her arms are bigger than my body.

" A real man idiot!" Becca bellows. She takes a long sigh and says, " Rose is looking for you maybe she'll listen to your chatter."

Alfred stomps away, stopping at the door.

" This isn't over Ichy-Bichy!" The blue flames instantly switch to a mischievous yellow.

"YOU-"

The flame-man runs away before receiving retribution.

She-hulk looks toward me and narrows her eyes, " Want the good news or bad news?"

My voice betrays me. It hitches, " Good!"

" Good news is no one's gonna bother you, you got until dinner. Wake up whenever. You know where to get food if ya hungry. The bad news is Francine fuc- messed up. No horchata and sardines."

Hearing no questions her gaze softens, " I know things musta been rough, but have a nice nap Mi-mi. I have charcoal to make."

The giant creeps out of the room, the aura of an ominous avenger clinging to her like a cloak.

The door clicks shut again leaving me alone in my thoughts.

I heard nothing from the halls, only the flickers and cracks of flames to accompany me.

Eventually, the anxiety leaps from my shoulders. At least I'm not dead yet. Not sure if it'll stay that way when they realize the Maria they know is very dead.

I shake my head at the thoughts. A problem for another time.

I remove myself from the warm embrace of the blanket and walk over to the door and lock it. I grab the towel and pajamas and head to the bathroom.

The beige tiled room is just as tasteful and comfy as everything else, though quite bare, lacking real soul. A huge mirror sat on top of a marble sink. Deep blue towels hung on rods, one missing.

" Noted, bathroom a not very good place to hide."

The thing didn't even have curtains! The best I could do was hide behind the toilet. Bringing myself to the mirror I got to look at my new body.

A demonic take on a girl-next-door looked back at me.

" Hmm…. 5 out of ten 10." I'm not one to bash my god but if she wanted me to be a girl she should've made me hot, I'd only make my life easier.

I place my onesie on the counter and twirl, turn and twist around. My skin was pale and sickly ivory with small black lips. Curly and frazzled white hair sat on my shoulders covered in dirt. Most notably were my eyes and horns. My eyes had no whites, just abyssal black orbs. In the back of my head sprouted brown goat horns, curling over my ears and towards the sky. I gave myself a wink and strip, taking off the tattered and wet skirt and cardigan and putting the gun on the countertop.

Never mind guess I'm still a man. A girly man.

Mission: Shower. Sleep. Eat

A/N TIME IS 0620