Marvel: Adventures of Grim Mortimer

Johnny Storm, better known as the Human Torch of the Fantastic Four, was enjoying a rare moment of peace.

Submerged in a mountain of bubbles in his expansive bathtub, he was blissfully unaware of the world beyond his soapy sanctuary.

With a rubber duck in one hand and a shampoo bottle as his makeshift microphone, Johnny belted out ABBA tunes, his voice echoing off the tiled walls. "Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen..."

Unbeknownst to Johnny, a shadow lurked in the doorway. Grim, the new undead, stood there, dressed in slightly tattered clothes, his expression was as blank as a tombstone. "Here goes nothing," he thought, taking a tentative step forward.

The creak of a floorboard under Grim's foot cut through Johnny's rendition of "Dancing Queen." Mid-verse, Johnny snapped his head towards the door, his eyes widening in shock. Reflexively, he shouted, "Intruder!" and ignited into his Human Torch form, flames engulfing the room in a brilliant, fiery display.

But there, in the midst of the inferno, stood Grim, unaffected, his body burning but regenerating as quickly as the flames could consume him. The undead teen looked almost bored amidst the live Barbecue.

Johnny, his powers ablaze yet futile against this peculiar intruder, ceased his fiery assault. He gaped, half-risen from the tub, soap suds sliding down his face, and bubbles clinging to his hair. "What the...? Who are you?!" he demanded, his voice an octave higher than usual.

Grim, deadpan as ever, replied, "Did I catch you at a bad time?" His voice held the dryness of a desert, completely unfazed by the fact that he was standing as write as rain...and now naked.

Johnny, now hastily wrapped in a towel, his flames extinguished, regarded Grim with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. "You're...you're not burning up! Who are you, man?"

"Name's Grim," the undead teenager said casually, as if being immune to fire was the most ordinary thing in the world. "And fire doesn't exactly work on me. Long story."

"Yeah no kidding..."

Before Johnny could say anything more, a hunk of a thing walked past the corridor but paused in his tracks, mouth agape as he saw Johnny with an unknown boy, and they were naked.

" Hahaha, I fucking knew it, Reed owes me 100 bucks."

"..."

"..."

....

Swinging through the city, Spider-Man zeroes in on a figure tumbling from a high-rise, a dark silhouette against the city lights. "No, no, no!" he exclaims, shooting a web to catch the falling body.

But he's too late. The figure lands with a sickening crunch, impaled on a spike of rebar jutting from a half-finished construction site.

Spider-Man lands with a graceful flip, the usual quip dying on his lips at the sight. "Oh man, I—I was too late," he stammers, approaching the figure carefully.

The figure, Grim, coughs drily and says in a remarkably calm voice, "You know, if you're done with your mid-life crisis up there, could you help me with this meat skewer? It's a tad uncomfortable."

Spider-Man startles, letting out a high-pitched squeal that echoes off the nearby buildings.

He gapes at Grim, who looks back with an unamused expression. "Sorry," Spider-Man manages, his voice several octaves higher than normal. "Did not expect you to be... uh, talking."

Grim sighs, another day in the un-life. "Yeah, I get that a lot. Now, about this rebar..."

...

Under the silver glow of the moon, Black Cat, her arms full of sparkling jewels, makes a graceful leap across the rooftops of the city.

But tonight, luck wasn't quite on her side. A patch of slick, wet tiles betrays her usually sure footing, and she slips with a startled yowl, the jewels scattering like stars around her.

As she braces for the impact with the cold, hard pavement below, she finds herself caught in a pair of strong, unenthused arms.

She looks up in surprise and meets with the indifferent, handsome face of Grim.

"Well, well, where have you been all my life?" she purrs, trying to make the best of the situation.

Grim sighs, his expression unchanging. "Apparently, right here waiting to catch thieves," he responds while signing, and without further ado, he casually drops her. She lands with an unceremonious thump on her backside.

"Ow! HEY!! Didn't your parents ever teach you how to treat a lady?" Felicity yells up at him, rubbing her sore behind.

Grim just rolls his eyes and replies in a tone devoid of care, "I'm an orphan."

"..."

Felicia sits there on the cold ground, jewels forgotten, staring up at him, her mouth agape, no witty comeback at the ready.