Chapter 1
The Everglades, Florida, 1971
It was a wet and dreary night. Because of course it was. In the Everglades, storms came and went as they pleased, but the dreariness never truly left. At least not in the Man-Thing’s so-called home. The air was thick with humidity, but not as thick as the wet mud and flora that swathed every surface not immersed in freshwater. There was a reason Man-Thing lived out here—because no one else did. Because it was the very definition of mucky. But that hardly bothered the monster. He was as much a part of the swamp as it was of him. Quite literally in fact. And there was nothing in or out of the Nexus that could change that.
As expected, tonight began like any other for the creature once known as Theodore “Ted” Sallis, formerly brilliant biochemist and broken-hearted husband. The sun went down, the moon rose up, and the Man-Thing once again forgot who he used to be. Memories: reemerging and forgotten in a series of broken cycles—his former life, traumatic flashes of colour, sound, and sorrow, leaving him confused every time he felt a fear that he soon recognized as his own. It was horrible. But it was better this way. Better he forgot. Better to take away the misery from the loneliness. For although Man-Thing could not express words for what he was feeling, it was a shared emotion that even the most horrid of people felt on occasion. Loneliness . And as a person who was also a monster, Man-Thing felt it more than most.
He wandered, feeling the vibrations of the swamp around him. The focus of the predators. The attentiveness of the prey. The calls of the birds. He liked it this way. Animals were so easy to understand. It was when the Other s showed up, the ones who reminded him of things best forgotten, the ones who felt emotions Man-Thing would rather not feel, that was when the trouble started. And it always started with fear.
Man-Thing hated fear. It made the outer layer of his vegetation crawl from top to bottom. And he avoided it when he could. Not that he had a choice most days. Having the ability to choose his fate was one of the many things that were taken away from him following the accident. The accident where– no. No. He couldn't remember. Didn't want to remember–What was he thinking about again? Choices. Right, a complicated thing. Something he didn't have a choice in thinking about. But choices weren't necessarily a bad thing. For instance, Man-Thing had the choice to sit down. And he chose to do so. He liked this spot. The flowers that grew there were a bright yellow. And when they died the fluffy white bits would float in the wind and fly away gracefully. Like parachutes. Or a summer snowfall.
Tonight was going to be a good night. That was another thing Man-Thing had chosen. His inhuman vision let him see through the infrared in addition to the visible spectrum. This allowed him to see the full majesty of his home with just the soft glow of the moonlight, and tonight the moon was going to be full and bright, giving him more to look forward to than usual. Something to take away the boredom, to keep him from the despair, for now at least. Man-Thing closed his eyes in mimicry of sleep, and felt the sultry air of the swamp wash over him. And for a moment, all was nice in his world. That was until a sharp snap followed by an intense flash of fear broke Man-Thing from his rest.
Man-Thing hated fear. But he had long since learned the difference between the fear of the innocent and the fear of the guilty. And the consequences when he assumed the worst too quickly. Man-Thing slowly turned towards the sound, maintaining his stillness as his massive form blended into the rest of the greenery. And just in time too, as a sudden thrashing of the bushes, followed by the swift collapse of a man, occurred not a minute later.
So this was who was afraid .
The man appeared to take no notice of Man-Thing, he also appeared to be barely standing. Despite this, the man did a full 360 of his surroundings, before he succumbed to his exhaustion, falling to his knees almost completely winded. Even then, he continued looking around frantically for something, or someone, unseen.
But Man-Thing was clearly the most dangerous thing here. Sowhat could be after him?What could possibly be coming for him that's worse than–His thoughts were interrupted by another shrill voice, pools of anxiety contaminating his favourite resting spot like algal blooms floating on the surface of what used to be a crystal clear lake.
“Jack! Jack? Please, I'm worried about you!”
The voice called out from the direction the man had arrived. The man's eyes widened in fear.
“ Mierda ! No, no, no–she can't be here! Aqui no, ahora no …” He began muttering to himself. The man– Jack– attempted once more to get up but immediately fell back down.
“No, no, no….” Muttering turned to incoherency as Jack began to panic. Becoming more and more breathless, rocking back and forth while kneeling in the mud of the swamp. Then, something unlike Man-Thing had ever seen began to happen. The man bent backwards with an inhuman speed, thrashing and yelling in pain. His face contorting into something much more animal-like. Hair rapidly growing from his previously bare skin, and his sleeves ripping away as he gripped his arm, in spite of the monstrous claws bleeding out from his nail beds. His humanity slowly being chipped away from him with each passing moment. And being replaced with something else.
A monster.
Man-Thing realised. Not unlike himself.
As Jack’s screams morphed from human desperation to inhuman growls, the plant monster continued to stare on in morbid fascination. Man-Thing had to wonder if his own transformation was this violen– no. He couldn't remember. Not that. Especially not that. But before Man-Thing could shake away his grievances, someone else did it for him.
A woman burst through the bushes. Stopped in her tracks by the sight before her and dragging the Man-Thing’s attention away from his own self-pity.
“Jack– Dios mío . I didn't reali–I should have believ–”
She could barely choke the words out. Shocked into stillness. So silent you would scarcely think she was there. But her presence didn't go unnoticed. And Jack , or the creature, or whatever he was in this halfway state, stopped. Just for a moment. A second really. Just enough time to recognize her.
And then that flash of fear hit again. That fear, fleeting as the man lost all sense of self. Fear, that Man-Thing now realised, was for the girl. And for whatever would happen to her once his transformation was complete. But that fear was consumed by the monster, dissipating faster and faster as the transformation continued. All the while a sharper terror continued to rise in the girl.
The man's spasms continued, accompanied by screams of agony and popping of bones that signalled the transformation's progression–until silence prevailed. And it wasn't just the creature, all onlookers stood silent in wait for what it would do. None more afraid than the girl. But the girl, as afraid as she was. Was also very brave.
“Jack?” She approached carefully. “Jack, quiero ayudarte, I want to help…”
Her hand reached out towards the creature. Unprepared for its violent turn. The creature–which Man-Thing could now tell was very wolf-like–lashed out at her, jumping on her like a wild animal catching prey, and pinning her to the wet ground. Consequently, she screamed, then whimpered as she lay there. Still. Eyes wide open.
“Ja-Jack…” She didn't dare blink, eyes on the brink of tears as she stared up at him. And yet . With claws raised and teeth bared, the creature couldn't seem to move. Instead, it's grip tightened on her wrist, pinning her down with unnatural force. Seemingly in the midst of deciding what to do next. Human indecision juxtaposing the instinctive action of animal nature.
“Jack, my arm…”
Blood beaded under his grip. Claws grasping tightly and breaking her skin. Beads of blood , like when Ted saw the needle go into his–no. No . No. More.
Man-Thing could take no more . This werewolf creature wasn't afraid. But the girl was. And it was hurting her. Hurting her like Man-Thing had hurt – no. He couldn’t think about that now. Right now, he had to focus. What was happening now, it had to be stopped.
Man-Thing crept out of his hiding spot and approached the two individuals. And before the wolf could take in his mighty presence, Man-Thing took a long swipe with one of his plant limbs, throwing the monster into the closest tree, before giving the mightiest roar he could muster. The surrounding plants shaking from the vibrations.
For a moment the werewolf remained on the ground, winded, but Man-Thing could tell it was recovering quickly. And in no time at all, the werewolf got back up and lunged towards him, but Man-Thing swiped again, pinning him to the ground with one of his massive green hands. And this time, he held him there.
The wolf continued to growl and thrash under his hand.
A pitiful creature. He thought. So much violence, and for what?
Man-Thing wondered if he should stop him right now, quiet him for good. How many innocents could he save if he just took his hands and just… ended it ? But before he could consider it, a voice cried out from behind.
“Please don't hurt him!”
Man-Thing made a confused grunt.
He looked over to where the girl had been. She had made her way back to her feet, now gripping her arm, which was still dripping with blood, clothes and hair matted with mud and grass stains. Whatever her plans had been, to help Jack, or talk him out of whatever violent actions he might take, there was no way she'd be able to do that now. Not in this state. The best thing for her was to get out of here. As far away from the creature as she could. But would she understand that?
Man-Thing made a gesture towards her that could only be interpreted as a get out. And grumbled another few warning sounds, hoping she would take the meaning away from his limited communication.
“Th-thank you,” the girl began to say, slowly walking towards him. Man-Thing made an annoyed grunt, and once again gestured for her to leave. “I understand, I really do! I’m going to run, I'm sorry it's just…he didn't mean to– Dios mío –he tried to tell me. I thought he was joking. Making silly excuses for why he left. But…” She trailed off in solemn remembrance. “He'll be okay in the morning. I'm sure of it. Just–please, don’t hurt him. He's all I have. He’s family .”
Man-Thing could feel the sincerity emanating from her. A sincerity that persisted in spite of the injury caused by the vicious creature he held down in the mud.
Who was this man? What was he? Man-Thing looked down at the creature, then back at the girl, and gave a soft nod. And the girl upon taking his answer, swiftly turned around and ran, like she should have in the first place.
Man-Thing looked down at the wolf thrashing around in his hands.
What was he supposed to do now?
Whether it be due to the lack of sunlight that breached the swamp’s canopy or the total dissociation from civilization, Man-Thing wasn't really great at telling time. He had never needed a clock and simply did as he liked on his own schedule. As such, he could not tell how long it was before he decided to loosen his grip on the creature.
Man-Thing had long observed the werewolf continuously claw at his arm. A futile effort. Especially with how long they sat there as the moon crossed the night sky. However, this wolf-man must have been able to rationalise in some capacity, as at some point it had eventually stopped thrashing and instead taken to glaring, and growling.
But Man-Thing knew what it was really doing. He could feel its emotions, animalistic as they were. With no fear, and nothing to attack but his arm, its instinctual predatory nature began to melt away. The distant sparks of curiosity buried under the layers of protective aggression crept into its mind. As such, Man-Thing knew that the creature would not attack again if released. And if the girl had run like he told her, she was long gone and there was no more danger in letting him go.
The Man-Thing released his hand slowly. No burn marks to be found, only matted fur from where he’d been gripping the last few…hours? Minutes? It didn’t matter.
The creature quickly scampered onto its feet. Keeping its eyes on Man-Thing, intently studying his every move. And the Man-Thing for its benefit made an easy job of it. He just sat there, watching the beast circle. After all, the creature could not hurt Man-Thing and Man-Thing had no more reason to hurt the creature. But it had been a long night, and Man-Thing could not abide by the continuous eye contact. It was getting weird.
"What?" It grumbled.
The creature flinched, taking a step back. Man-Thing sighed.
"What are you?" He attempted to speak again, but to no avail. Even if the creature could understand his muffled voice through the layers of plant matter, it made no indication it cared. Instead, the werewolf simply looked at him one last time, gave a pitched growl, and then slowly scampered away.
As a result of his boredom or perhaps out of a need to make sure the wolf didn’t do anything too rash in his swamp, Man-Thing followed. Man-Thing was as silent as a tree when he stayed still, but when he moved he lumbered like that of a giant. As such, the werewolf couldn't have ignored Man-Thing if he tried. Every few steps, the monster would turn around and growl in annoyance at the Man-Thing’s proximity. Initially, this made the Man-Thing stop in his tracks, afraid to spook the monster and lose sight of him in the bushes. But eventually, he realised it took more energy to stop and start again than it would to just ignore the predator's failed attempts at intimidation and continue his escort mission.
It was interesting, watching its behaviour when no fight was abound. It was clearly on the prowl. Hunched over, sniffing the ground continuously, but why? Was this all it had to do? Act purely on hunger and predatory instincts?
Man-Thing watched as the wolf grew more and more frustrated at the lack of stimulation, circling the same areas again and again and again. Man-Thing began to think this cycle would go on all night, but then the creature crept down and made an inhuman leap into the air, landing on the tall branch of a willow tree. It was on this branch that it continued to scope out the area for non-existent prey.
Man-Thing wondered if it would find anything. The noise of Man-Thing’s lumber would surely cause any bobcats in the area to withdraw into their hiding spots, and any other mammal awake was far too small and fast for the animal that took over Jack to care for. So that left–
The creature lept with a jarring growl into the water.
The Alligators.
If one peers into the swamp water, and the moon is bright enough to illuminate the sharp specks of white gold through the pitch black moving towards you, you'll see maybe dozens of golden spherical circles, hovering above the water. Beautiful to the ignorant. Terrifying to those who know. Because these rims of light just so happen to be the reflective eyes of dozens of gators staying up to hunt. Just as the creature possessing Jack was doing now. It was a horrible coincidence that a natural monster such as this would cross paths with a monster of the supernatural variety. But both were fearsome enough that the Man-Thing did not know which way this fight would go.
The fight began when the werewolf hit the water. The loud splash signalling the beginning of a series of events that turned Man-Thing's previously stated boredom into stunned silence, as the creature wrestled with the unlucky gator he had ensnared with his claws.
Snapping, growling, and other piercing noises stood out against the stark silence of the night. One could only imagine how terrifying this whole ordeal sounded out of sight. Monsters fighting in the night. A night so dark that even with the gleam of the moon, Man-Thing almost couldn't make out what was happening. Almost.
For the first little while it seemed like the wolf might gain the upper hand. He wrestled with the gator, leaping left and right, avoiding its deadly jaws. Then it gained a predator's confidence for just a brief moment as it mounted the animal's back and bit down hard on its throat. If it were any other animal this might have been the killing blow. But alligators were not your typical vertebrate. Their thick spiky armour protected them from being penetrated by the force of other gator's jaws, and as monstrous as this wolf was, it would not be able to bite through a hide that thick.
In an instant Man-Thing knew where this fight was going. He had seen it time and time again with gators fighting each other for territory. As soon as the gator got a grip on the wolf, he would force it underwater, spinning it around and around and around, until it was too stunned or drowned to fight back.
A Death Roll.
And sure enough, the gator tossed the wolf off of it and pinned him while he was down. Before the wolf could intervene, it snapped its incredibly strong jaws into the wolf's torso causing the creature to yelp in agony. Like a dog caught in a bear trap.
Man-Thing would have winced if he wasn't already watching on in horror. All he could think to console himself as he felt the agonising pain radiating off the creature was:
It will all be over soon .
Man-Thing knew somewhere in his foggy mind that the normal response would be to look away. In fear, disgust, or even respect for the monster’s dire end. But something was stopping him. And it wasn't just morbid fascination. A final splash could be heard as the weakened monster made a last-ditch attempt to free itself as it was being dragged under.
Under the water. Under the water like–like when– like when Ted had crashed.
This time Man-Thing could feel the memories rising before he could stop them. Ellen. The car. The serum. The water. The swamp. Man-Thing shook his head in grief. He didn't want to remember. He couldn’t remember. But he was going to anyways. Why did his mind force these images onto him again and again and again…
Ellen. The car. The serum. The water. The swamp. The girl… the girl.
That girl who he had saved. The girl who had saved Jack. Her voice rang out clearly in his mind. Drowning out the rest of the memories.
"Please, don’t hurt him. He's all I have. He’s family."
Family. Ted had a family once. Ted had wanted a family with Ellen. But his work had consumed him. And Ellen…something had changed in her. Something that Ted had not noticed until it was too late. She didn't love him anymore. In fact, she hated him. Hated him because she hated his work. Work that was used to do… to do…… to do something. Ted couldn't remember. But what he could remember, was that when everything was finished, when Ted had been consumed by more than just his work, when he had become his work–that was when he had really hurt her. And when and why she had run away. And why Ted could never forgive himself. Why he didn't want to remember. He was a monster.
But so was Jack. And Jack had also hurt someone. Someone who considered him family. Someone who despite everything still loved him. And forgave him. A new feeling rose up in Man-Thing, something that came from Ted Sallis. Hope. And that hope would die with Jack if he didn't do something.
Man-Thing jumped into the swamp water. Ripping the alligator off of Jack and throwing it so far he couldn't see where it landed. A distant splash provided the only confirmation it had landed. The wolf meanwhile had gone limp in the water. Coughing weakly between rasping breaths, seemingly accepting its defeat at the hands of a superior predator.
So dramatic.
He scooped up the creature in his hands which had grown so weak it barely pawed at him in resistance. Ted couldn't even tell if he was trying to fight or was just delirious at this point. It didn't matter. He brought him back into the foliage and cleared a spot for him under some bushes, placing him down gently.
The creature, still breathing heavily, seemed to have gone unconscious from his wounds. Wounds bleeding crimson from his side, matting his fur. Man-Thing could only hope that whatever supernatural abilities this creature had, it included the ability to heal. For now, there was nothing the Man-Thing could do, except watch over him and wait for sunrise.