Spawn vs The Mask

The Mask vs Spawn

*KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK*

“Open up in there! This is the police, Ipkiss, we know you're in there!” A group of officers stood outside. One of them was banging against the wooden door with his nightstick, from the sound of it.

Sweat dripped off Stanley's brow as he paced anxiously in the living room of his small apartment. “What do I do?” He murmured to himself, staring at the jade mask in his hands. Putting it on in the past is what got him into this mess in the first place. The memories of robbing the bank yesterday were fresh in his mind, and surprisingly clear. Yet... he hadn't acted normally. In fact, he could have sworn he'd gone bonkers. Milo barked at the door, bringing him back to reality as the officers let loose with another series of loud knocks and verbal warnings. The small Jack Russel Terrier had the heart of a German Shepard, even if he had the bladder of a 90 year old grandma.

It was clear to Stanley that donning this ancient artifact would yield unpredictable results. Stanley glanced between the door and Milo, running his free hand through his hair, exasperated. Maybe they would just go away? Last he checked, policemen couldn't exactly bust down people's doors—not without a warrant. He took a deep breath, and—

“We have a warrant for your arrest, Ipkiss! Open it, or we will!”

Stanley paled. There were three ways this could end. He could run away with the money he'd stolen and live off the rest of his days in the Bahamas, a fugitive. He could surrender to the cops and spend a long time making someone in prison a loving companion. Or, he could put on the mask. Only the mask offered a chance—just a chance, at seeing her again. Tina.

He picked up his canine companion and scuttled to his room. “Milo... wait for daddy in the bedroom. This might get... ugly.” Closing the door behind him, he turned back and approached the main door with a somber resolve. He slowly raised the mask of legend to his overly perspiring face; the wood shimmered an unnatural green, and each moment stretched impossibly as he wondered what to expect. Just as the door slammed open, the mask hungrily latched onto it's owner's face. The policemen were stunned to have broken open the door and come to the sight of a man-sized swirling vortex.

The cyclone skidded to a stop before the gun toting police force, revealing a green faced character with a toothy grin and a flashy yellow suit. “Somebody stop me!”

***


A lone figure perched atop the ledge of a building. His rich red cape was a massive shroud, billowing softly like a cloud of blood. The creature known as Spawn pondered the life of the man he once was. He had a wife once. A home. He was happy, content with his lot in life, even if his job was a messy one. Sure, he was essentially an assassin; a killer. But he could sleep well at night knowing that he was taking down dangerous criminals; he saved the many by taking out the few. But now... he was someone else. Something else.

Gunshots sounded off in the streets down below. The Hellspawn stood and searched for a source of the disturbance. The man who had once been Al Simmons was trained with guns of all kinds. Even though Simmons was all but gone, Spawn knew the sounds of police issue firearms when he heard them. He jumped over the edge, the massive cape behind him fluttering and catching enough wind for him to effectively glide. Manifesting suction cups on his hands and feet, Spawn soared toward a building and latched onto the side of it. No matter what changes his body went through, he fulfilled much the same purpose as before he died. Protect the weak and help the helpless.

It was dark, but that didn't bother Spawn; he was born of darkness. His eyes were ablaze with an ethereal emerald glow as he watched a man in a yellow suit leap out of a window and land on the street below, several stories down. Cops poked their heads out of the window he'd jumped from, looking down at what was a sure suicide. He hit the ground hard, flattening. Literally. Then, incredulously, he peeled himself off the asphalt road and glanced left and right and the cops that had him essentially surrounded. When the policemen saw this, they opened fire on him, at least half a dozen firearms simultaneously going off.

The man in yellow avoided the gunfire by passionately dancing about—wait, was he doing the flamingo?! And how had he changed his clothes?! Spawn's fiendish eyes narrowed. He'd only ever seen one person bend reality that way, though not to such an exaggerated degree. That wicked clown from Hell, the Violator. Spawn was almost, almost amused. The officers stopped firing, staring between their useless weapons and the yellow-suited man with confusion. Then, the man reached behind his back and pulled out a damn bazooka.

“Oh hell no,” Spawn growled. It occurred to him this might be another demon from the abyss. “This ends before it begins.” He pounced off the wall and landed in a crouch in front of the man. Spawn's cape billowed around the two, forming something of a demonic wall. Up close, Spawn could see the man's green face and crazed smirk.

“I have a permit for this,” he remarked, grinning impishly.

***

Spawn must incapacitate or subdue The Mask. The Mask must... well... I guess he's just messing around.

electricferret.freeforums.net/thread/1371/mask

electricferret.freeforums.net/thread/267/spawn


(I will write the ending after the voting period and continue it)