How the Homunculus War Begins: A Short Story

crime scene

Detective Bruce Kelley put out his cigarette, took a sip of his nasty-tasting, long-cold coffee, made a face of disgust, swallowed the sip of old coffee anyway, and took his time lighting a second cigarette, carefully watching the suspect every moment, as he did each of these things, without saying a word. After taking a long drag from his latest cigarette, he broke the silence. “Murdock. Mr. Peter Murdock. The crimes in which you are the prime suspect are serious, but I don’t think you’re taking this investigation seriously — at all — and I want to know why.”

“Detective, I haven’t committed any crimes. I have only been accused of killing two people, whose names I don’t even know, but as I have told you, repeatedly, I’ve never killed anyone, and never would. I’m not that kind of person.”

Kelley snorted. “Let’s talk about something else, then. Do you enjoy reading comic books, Mr. Murdock?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Why do you ask?”

“I used to read them myself, when I was a kid. Spider-Man was my favorite, but I also liked Daredevil. And, I gotta tell you, of all the fake names I’ve ever been given by people with obviously fake IDs, ‘Peter Murdock’ has got to be the most pathetic fake name I’ve ever seen or heard . . . but maybe that’s just because we’ve both read a lot of Daredevil and Spider-Man comic books. So, here’s my next question: what’s your real name?”

“What? I don’t understand. Are you sure that isn’t my name? Hold on a second — I’ll consult my homunculus.”

“Your what?”

“You know — the little guy inside your head. The one who sees through your eyes. The dude behind the steering wheel, and at the control panel. You know, the one who decides what you do. Don’t you ever talk to yours? I wouldn’t know what to do with my life without the help of my homunculus.” He then gave the detective a huge, childlike smile.

Image source: http://commonsenseatheism.com/?p=8844

A Man, and His Homunculus

The detective said nothing, and was still processing these words when the suspect spoke again, roughly a full minute later. “My apologies, detective. My homunculus was apparently playing tricks on us both, but I don’t know why. He now tells me my real name is Reed Stark.”

Detective Kelley put his unfinished cigarette out, right into the cup of swill which, two hours ago, had been half-way decent coffee. The cigarette hissed, as the lit end hit the liquid. “Reed . . . Stark. Of course he did. Are you quite sure about that name, though? Why not ask him if he meant to say ‘Tony Richards,’ instead? I thought we had already established that we’ve read the same &%$#ing comic books, you lunatic!”

“No, he says he’s sure it’s Reed Stark. Absolutely certain. If you can’t trust your own homunculus, detective, well, then, whom can you trust?”

“Well, ‘Mr. X,’ you’ve already been thoroughly searched, so there’s no point in asking for ID that says your name is Reed Stark. Look, Mr. Stark, Murdock, Richards, Stan Lee, or whatever your name is, I think we’re done here — at least for now.”

The detective picked up the handset-part of the old-style, land-line phone on the desk between them, in this small room which was so barren that the suspect had, until the detective picked up part of it, and talked into it, thought of this shiny black telephone as the room’s sole piece of ornamentation. Speaking into the phone, Kelley said, “Yeah, have the guard take Mr. ‘Murdock,’ here, back to his cell. We’re not getting anywhere with this, and there’s no point in my wasting any more of my time questioning him.”

“Um, detective, that’s not ‘Murdock.’ I told you, my name is Stark. Reed Stark. I don’t know why my homunculus –”

“Shut up. Just — just shut up.”

The suspect did not argue, and the guard arrived quickly, removed the restraints holding the suspect to his chair, but did not take off his handcuffs. As the guard left with the suspect, Kelley spoke once more. “Guard — don’t take him back to the same cell. Put this man in isolation.”

“Yes, sir.” They left. The door closed behind them. Detective Kelley picked up the phone again.

“This is about the murder suspect with the obviously-fake ID — the one who claimed his name was Peter Murdock, and had poor-quality fake ID to match. Change the name on his intake records to ‘John Doe.’ Run his fingerprints again, just in case the system missed a match last time. Also, get in touch with the psychiatric unit at the state hospital. Tell them we’ve got a dangerous head case coming their way, and to be ready to receive him — and warn them that he is the prime suspect in a double homicide — which he claims not to remember . . . . What was that? Yes, actually, I do believe him — the part about him not remembering killing those two men in that blind alley, anyway — that much I believe. This guy thinks there’s a little man in his head who tells him what to do — a ‘homunculus,’ he called it. I’m about to go google that word right now. No, I’ve never heard that term, but I know a psych case when I see one, and this guy’s definitely nuts.”

Once locked in his isolation-chamber, the suspect asked his homunculus what to do next, but heard no answer — so, instead of just asking silently, he asked again, aloud. To that, he heard a response, sort of: snoring. His homunculus was, apparently, asleep.

“I guess I’m supposed to sleep, too, then,” he said aloud, to no one in particular, and with that, he stretched out flat, right on the floor (ignoring the small, hard bed which was attached to the far wall), and instantly fell asleep.

Soon, the suspect was dreaming. He heard the voice of his homunculus, and it sounded oddly, subtly different than normal — and familiar, also. He finally recognized it, for he had heard it in multiple superhero movies: it was the voice of Stan Lee.

Trans-dimensional portal now open for transfer of both powers and equipment. Begin transfer immediately. Matt Murdock, code-named “Daredevil,” with two billy clubs — complete. Peter Parker, code-named “Spider-Man,” with web-shooters, and extra cartridges of web-fluid — complete. Reed Richards, code-named “Mr. Fantastic,” with unstable molecules for uniform-purposes — complete. Tony Stark, code-named “Iron Man,” with latest version of Extremis-augmented, body-integrated bio-armor — complete. Files containing knowledge regarding the use of new abilities, and equipment, now being transferred through trans-dimensional portal — complete. Begin extraction and installation of all files . . . wait . . . processing . . . processing . . . complete. Peter Reed Murdock Stark, it’s time to wake up now. You have important work to do.

The suspect woke up. He spent a few minutes using his newly-enhanced hearing to listen to conversations going on in every room in the building, until he was certain no one was nearby, except for those locked behind bars. He smelled for the distinctive smells of gun oil, ammunition, and gunpowder — and again, found none that were too close. His homunculus then told him, silently “This may seem a little strange, at least the first time,” and then flipped the newly-installed ‘armor’ switch, at which point the suspect saw his body and jail-inmate-uniform quickly covered with red-and-gold armor familiar to many fans of comic books, around the globe, although those same fans would have found the presence of billy clubs and web-shooters unusual, attached to Iron Man armor. “The unstable molecules will let the armor stretch with the rest of your body, so don’t bend the bars to escape — just stretch between them, instead, for that will make much less noise.”

As always, he did as he was told by his homunculus, without question, nor hesitation. His armored and elastic form slipped through the bars easily. Once out, though, his amplified hearing and enhanced sense of smell warned him that someone, probably a guard, was approaching. Spider-sense then confirmed imminent danger, so he jumped to the high ceiling — and stuck there. He held his breath as the guard strolled casually down the corridor. The guard was nearing the end of his shift, and was sleepy — but he would have noticed bent or broken bars to a cell. Due to his fatigue, however, he did not notice that the number of empty cells in this particular corridor was one more than it should have been — and he had no reason to look up.

Once this guard exited the far side of the corridor, the escaped prisoner crawled along the ceiling, and then noticed a ventilation shaft. It was covered by a metal grille, but the elastic powers of Reed Richards nullified that obstacle, as he simply oozed through the small holes in the grille, web-shooters and all — thanks to those unstable molecules from which the Fantastic Four’s uniforms are made. Within seconds, he was completely inside the ventilation shaft.

From inside his head, he heard the next instructions from his homunculus: “Head for the roof.” He did so, soon finding his way completely out of the ventilation system, and on the roof of a police station, in a small city in a world without superheroes. On this particular Earth, superheroes existed only as copyrighted characters in comic books, movies, television shows, and the like.

He spoke quietly: “Homunculus? What should I do now?”

“You need do nothing but accept our gratitude. Your mission is now complete.” The homunculus flipped the armor-switch back to the ‘off’ position, and the red-and-gold armor retreated from view. He then flipped another switch, and the escaped murder-suspect fell to the ground, able to see and hear, but unable to move. He heard four separate voices in his head say, “Thank you,” one after another. During his escape, the homunculus had reproduced by fission, splitting in half once, then each half splitting into two parts again — a new means of reproduction their species’ scientists had only just developed, and was only being used by experimental prototypes, such as these four particular homunculi.

A pair of small, green-skinned homunculi then crawled out of each of the murder-suspect’s ears, causing red blood to pool under his head, on the roof. “Ugh, human blood is so nasty,” one of them said. “Red is such a sickening color for blood!”

“Get used to it,” said another, “for I’m sure we will be seeing a lot more of it in the next few weeks.”

“Weeks? More like just a few days,” said a third of the green-skinned quartet. “In this universe our scientists recently discovered, no super-powered humans exist at all, except in what the humans call ‘fiction’ — stories about things which never actually happened, at least not here. The problems we have repeatedly encountered with these super-powered humans, every time we try to take over the Earth, will not exist here, with this Earth, at all. No one here will have the power to oppose us!”

The green homunculi were now marching, in a triumphant circle, around the paralyzed human. Although he could not move, their walking finally brought one of their faces into plain view, so he could see the strangely-shaped, green chin of his homunculus — and then he knew his planet was as doomed as he was, as he slowly bled out, unseen by any other human, on the rooftop of a police-headquarters building.

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A Skrull. Four tiny Skrulls, in fact. They didn’t even see the need to kill him before they activated tiny versions of Iron Man’s armor, and flew off, in four different directions . . . each to become someone else’s new homunculus, no doubt.

His last thought was relief, for he was blacking out, and knew he would not personally have to witness the destruction of his world’s civilization, and the enslavement of its people . . . but he saw no way either one could be avoided. Right now was, he thought, a much better time to die.

# # #

[Image credit — the “homunculus” image, above, was found at this website: http://commonsenseatheism.com/?p=8844, and the picture of the head of a Skrull was found at http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Skrulls.]

[Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. No similarity to any living nor dead person, nor institution, is intended, nor should it be inferred. This story is not being sold for a profit, but is a work of fan-fiction available on the Internet, for anyone to read, for free. No copyright infringement involving characters owned by Marvel Comics is taking place, since this work is not being sold for a profit. If a representative of Marvel Comics requests it, this blog-post will be deleted, but it is expected that having this story available on the Internet will only increase, not decrease, that company’s sales and profits.]

The Reason Why My Current Profile Picture on Facebook Is of Matt Murdock / Daredevil

In September, I noticed that friends of mine started suddenly having superheroes appear as their Facebook profile-pictures. After learning that this was being done to support the efforts to find cures for pediatric cancer, I decided to join them. However, I also have adult friends and relatives who are battling cancer, so I cannot limit this to only pediatric cancer. I’m also not changing my profile picture back, just because it is no longer September. Of course, I chose my favorite comic book character. This is what I now “look” like, on Facebook:

Michael-C.-Hall-Daredevil-Rumors

Other animated characters I have seen, as profile pictures of friends of mine who are also participating in this effort, include (in alphabetical order) Batman, Cyclops, She-Hulk, Snoopy, Stan Marsh (of South Park), Susan Storm (the Invisible Woman), and the new, female Thor, as well as others.

To those also participating: thank you. To those not yet participating, I invite you to join us.

Daredevil Fan-Fiction: Why Did Matt Murdock’s Mother Leave His Father?

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I will start with an introduction, to set the context of this story.

In the issue of Superior Iron Man shown above (#4, published in 2015), Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man (having had a “moral inversion,” or good/evil reversal), is the villain of the story, while Matt Murdock, also known as Daredevil, is the hero. It isn’t a typical comic book, for, in this story, the bad guy wins. Stark uses advanced technology to overpower Murdock, and then this happens, near the end of the issue.

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In the next panel, Matt wakes up, in a hospital, with no memories of the conflict with Stark.

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It is important to note that, earlier in this multi-issue story, which begins in Superior Iron Man #1, Stark restores Murdock’s ability to see. Realizing that the price of this is far too high, Murdock deliberately shuns this “gift” from Stark, and voluntarily allows his blindness to return.

Now that the stage is set, on to the fan-fiction, which takes place, mostly, in the mind of Matthew Murdock, who is also an attorney, in-between the two panels shown above.

~~~

Matt Murdock was blinded in a childhood accident, so he is used to darkness — but the darkness now enveloping him is far emptier than usual. His enhanced senses are gone. Hearing nothing, smelling nothing, tasting nothing, feeling nothing, and his “radar-sense” gone, he is now blind — really blind. Deprived of all sensory input, he also has no idea what is going on. However, he can think, and can also remember.

The first thing he remembers is a single name: STARK!

That name triggers a recent memory: the brief, recent period where one of Tony Stark’s inventions restored his sight. For a time — an unknown amount of time — he simply watches, as if watching a TV show, the things he saw during this short time. The show plays itself out, as if on a large screen. His anger at Stark forgotten, Matt watches the show of his recent memories, as one might passively watch a movie. He feels he is floating, in a void, as he watches. As this “movie” plays, there is a sudden freeze-frame: the pictures stop moving. Context is immediately forgotten. All he sees is a single image, which is what he happened to be looking at when the “movie” of his recent memories was suddenly, and unexpectedly, put on “pause.”

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A jar of peanut butter? Why did the images freeze at this spot? What’s going on? Did I see this in a store? Did I see it in my home? Where did I . . . ?

Daredevil is popularly-known as “The Man Without Fear,” but he’s always known that this description is inaccurate. For example, he fears the possibility of those he loves getting injured, or killed, by any of his numerous enemies, because of his exploits as a costumed hero — for that has already happened to him, more than once. He also realizes that he fears something else, but only if he sees it: peanut butter.

Peanut butter? Why that, of all things?

An earlier, strongly-repressed, memory then surfaces, and a great many things fall painfully into place for Matthew Murdock.

Oh, no . . . anything but this . . . . 

He is no longer seeing recalled memories from a few days ago, but from early childhood — before the accident that blinded him. He was very young, had a bad head cold, and could smell nothing, explaining why the smell of peanut butter never triggered this memory before.

Young Matthew looks around. He sees the kitchen of his childhood home. His parents, Jack and Margaret Murdock, are still together. He is wearing the clothes of a toddler, because that is what he was at this time. He’s on top of a counter in the kitchen, having climbed up there, using chairs to make a crude “staircase.” And there, on the floor, is a five-pound jar of peanut butter, surrounded by shards of broken glass. 

Matt, as a toddler, had only been looking for some cookies. He had not meant to knock his father’s gigantic glass jar of peanut butter off the counter, but the deed was done. The jar was broken, and could not be unbroken. There was broken glass in the peanut butter now; it could not safely be eaten. His family didn’t have much money, for his father’s career as a professional boxer was going nowhere, and his mother only made a little money, at the elementary school down the street, working as a substitute teacher. “Battlin’ Jack” Murdock, whom the adult Matt Murdock had idolized for years, was eating as much peanut butter as he could, simply to gain weight, and protein, in the hopes that this would, somehow, make him a better boxer.

The crash of the glass jar hitting the floor echoed throughout the family’s small Hell’s Kitchen apartment. With his earliest memories now unlocked, he knew what was coming next. Matt tried desperately to stop the memory-playback.

He failed, and his mind filled with fear.

Loud footsteps . . . Dad? No! Please, please don’t . . . I don’t need to see this happen again . . . not again . . . . never again . . . .

“MATT!” His father had just burst into the room, having heard the crash. He saw the broken jar of peanut butter on the floor. His son started to cry, afraid of what he knew, in hindsight, was about to happen. “You clumsy little %$#@! Do you have any idea how much that jar COST me?” An incoherent, deep-voiced, roar of rage followed — and the noise from his father seemed louder than anything the adult Murdock had ever heard, even from his arch-enemy, Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin of Crime, and even with his enhanced senses taken into account.

Matt’s father, already drunk, in the middle of the afternoon, kept yelling at his son: “I’ll KILL you for this, you worthless little son of a &*%$#!!”

And, with that, the enraged “Battlin’ Jack” Murdock grabbed his only son, by both shoulders, with his son facing him, and started shaking him as hard as he could. Young Matt’s head flopped back and forth, rapidly, just like a worn-out rag doll. Matt heard a sharp “crack!” sound from one of the bones in his neck. The shaking continued.

The adult Matt Murdock then remembered a legal case he had refused to take, over ten years earlier, defending a man who was then put on trial for murdering his son via shaken baby syndrome, which can kill children up to the age of three. Later, he learned the man had not only been convicted, but eventually put to death — the last legal execution in the state of New York, for killing his 2½-year-old son . He remembered smiling when he learned of this, but had not known, at the time, why this news had made him happy.

Now, all at once, he knew.

Luckily for Matt, the toddler, help was on the way. School had been dismissed, and his mother, Margaret Murdock, was just arriving home. She walked in on the most horrible scene she had ever witnessed: her husband attacking their only child.

She didn’t hesitate, and had, fortunately for her young son, entered the apartment unseen by “Battlin’ Jack.” She ran at her husband, a trained boxer, jumped onto his back, and began clawing at her husband’s face with every ounce of strength she could find, screaming as she did so. Not only that, but it worked — she saved her son’s life. 

“You rotten little %$#@*! This is all YOUR fault!” She had saved Matt, but only by getting her husband to redirect his fury at the only other target available — herself. This was not the first time Jack Murdock had beaten his wife, but it was the worst beating she ever took from him, and it was also the last such beating.

This was the last time Matt Murdock ever saw his mother — and, until many years later, as an adult, this was also the last time Matt heard her voice. Unknown to her son, or her monster of a husband, she escaped, to a shelter for battered women at a nearby church, but was unable to take young Matthew with her — her husband changed the locks after she left, and she was not able to gain access to him, in order to rescue him. She did, however, make contact with a friend who worked with New York’s Child Protective Services agency, and begged her friend for her help. She was (incorrectly, she later found out) told that, with no hard evidence available, there was no point in calling the police: an arrest of Jack Murdock would be, she was informed, impossible. However, she did convince her friend to have CPS keep an eye on the situation, for years, in order to ensure her son’s safety.

The toddler Matt, of course, knew none of this. In fact, even as an adult, he never did find out about the CPS-monitoring which his mother had arranged, for his protection.

As his mother was savagely beaten, young Matt laid limp, on the floor, his neck forming a very odd-looking angle, as the result of the trauma he had suffered. He could not move, nor could he speak, for he was in shock for over an hour. He could, however, see and hear. He heard his mother crying, and screaming, as her husband continued to beat her. He saw two of his mother’s bloody teeth fly across his field of vision. He heard some of her bones break, but could not turn his head to see which ones the monster of their lives had broken. He saw a calendar on the wall, and his adult self did the math, and figured out how old he had been when this happened: two and a half years old.

This was now Matt Murdock’s earliest memory — but not for long. The weapon Tony Stark had designed, built, and used against him was programmed to seek out (and record) a person’s most traumatic, but still repressed, memory, and then force them to relive it, vividly, and, next, allow that person to suppress the memory once again — and then keep going, wiping out all memories for several days before the device was activated. When Matt Murdock awoke in the hospital, he remembered nothing about either the conflict with Stark, or with his father. However, Tony Stark examined the recorded data about Murdock’s childhood, and filed it away, in case he ever decides to use it. And, of course, Matt Murdock’s earliest memory is not gone, but merely repressed. If Stark’s technology ever fails, which is certainly possible, these memories could always come back.

Tony Stark now understands Matt Murdock’s prime motivation for putting on a devil costume (despite the fact that he is Catholic), going out almost every night, and selectively beating only those people who seriously deserve to be beaten, and Stark enjoys knowing that he is the only person in the world with this information, to use however he sees fit, at any time.

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~~~

CREDITS

I took the picture of the jar of peanut butter myself. All other images in this post are from Superior Iron Man #4, published by Marvel Comics, written by Tom Taylor, penciled by Yildiray Cinar, and with cover art created by Mike Choi. For other credits, I refer you to this comic book.

The “fuzziness” of the comic book images is deliberate, and done with the intent of avoiding copyright infringement, while leaving the dialogue readable.

While writing this short story, I made every effort to keep it consistent with the decades-long story of Matt Murdock / Daredevil, a work which has involved dozens of talented people. Without their work to build on, I could not have written this story.

The information in this story regarding Shaken Baby Syndrome is factual, as of the date of publication. A search of medical sources with Google will reveal that it does kill large numbers of babies, as well as children up to age three. Everyone needs to know this: shaking can kill babies and children. In this story, Matt Murdock survived. In real life, the author of this story survived; it is my earliest clear memory. Not everyone lives: 25% of us die, and of those who survive, 80% have to deal with permanent damage.

Obviously, I’m among those who survived, but I’m also among the 80% of survivors with permanent damage. PTSD doesn’t just “wear off” once you get it, either . . . or at least, I haven’t found a cure for mine yet.

Orcus and Vanth

There’s a binary dwarf-planet-candidate / large satellite pair, way out in the outer solar system, called Orcus and Vanth. Much like the “double dwarf planet” Pluto/Charon, and the other satellites in that system, Orcus and Vanth orbit the sun in a 3:2 resonance with Neptune, and this orbit crosses that of Neptune, as well. The Orcus/Vanth binary system is sometimes referred to as the “anti-Pluto,” because, unlike most “plutinos” (as such distant objects, in orbital resonance with Neptune, are called), Orcus and Vanth have a strange — and, so far, unexplained — relationship with the Pluto/Charon system. When Pluto and Charon are closest to the sun (perihelion), Orcus and Vanth are at their furthest from the sun (aphelion), and vice-versa. So far as I have been able to determine, this is not true for any other known plutinos. For more on the real Orcus and Vanth, please check this Wikipedia page.

Those are the scientific facts, as we know them . . . and now, it’s time for some silliness. On Facebook, recently, I mentioned that “Orcus” and “Vanth” really would make good names for comic book characters, but that I couldn’t decide what they should look like, nor what powers they should have. A discussion with some of my friends followed, and, together, we decided that Orcus should be a tough fighter-type, while “Vanth” sounded like a name for some sort of spell-caster. It didn’t take long before I decided I should visit one of the numerous create-your-own-comic-book-character websites, and go ahead and make quasi-anthropomorphized images of Orcus and Vanth — the characters, not the outer solar-system objects.

I used a website called Hero Machine for this diversionwhich you can find here. First, I created an image for a character named Orcus.

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Unfortunately, I didn’t discover (until it was too late) that this website allows the user to change the background . . . and I didn’t want to re-make Orcus, so I went ahead and created an image of his companion, Vanth, instead.

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I don’t have the time, nor the artistic talent, to write and illustrate actual comic book stories featuring this pair of characters . . . but perhaps someone will read this, and decide they want to take on such a project. That’s fine with me . . . but I want credit (in writing, each issue) for creating them, and, if the endeavor makes any money, I want at least 20% of the profits, and that’s if I have nothing more to do with creating Orcus and Vanth stories, beyond what is posted here. If I do have additional involvement, of course, we’ll need to carefully negotiate the terms of a contractual agreement. I consider 20% fair for simply creating images of this pair of characters, but actually co-creating stories would be something else altogether.

By the way, although Orcus certainly looks scarier, Vanth is actually the more formidable of the pair. She just pretends to play the “side-kick” role, in order to preserve the element of surprise, for situations when, during their adventures, Orcus finds himself in over his head, and Vanth then needs to really cut loose with the full extent of her abilities.

“That’s Not Fair!” — A Response to This Common Phrase

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Source of quote: Guardians Team-Up #6.

Source of image: http://avengersalliance.wikia.com/wiki/Gamora/Gallery

On Life, and Death, in the Marvel Comics Universe

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To write this, I did a lot of research, and had much help from friends. One of them, Craig Deaton, gave permission for his name to be used, but the others have not. I am grateful to them all.

This is a compilation of three lists, for purposes of comparison and analysis, and concerns life, death, being “unkilled,” then “re-killed” after being unkilled, and then, sometimes, being “re-unkilled,” and so on. In other words, the topic here is bad writing, and a terribly overused plot device. To (try to) keep this simple, I’m limiting this survey to the primary Marvel Comics universe, in which Earth is called, for reasons I do not understand, Earth-616. I started this yesterday, by simply posting some questions on Facebook, and watched, with growing amazement, as the information started pouring in.

The shortest of these lists includes only comic book characters who are currently dead, but whom I have high confidence Marvel will unkill, before too long.

  1. Wolverine, a/k/a James “Logan” Howlett
  2. Uatu, a/k/a The Watcher
  3. Charles Xavier, a/k/a Professor X

At least two of these characters (Wolverine and Professor X) have been killed, and then resurrrected, before, and I will be shocked if this process is not repeated, again (and again, and again, and again…).

The next list includes characters who have been killed, have actually remained dead, so far, and whose resurrections I do not (at least not fully) expect.

  1. The Abomination
  2. The Ancient One (associated with Dr. Strange)
  3. Hector Ayala, the Black, Hispanic, male version of the White Tiger, killed after Matt Murdock failed to secure his acquittal on a murder charge, of which Ayala was innocent
  4. Blink, of the X-Men
  5. Daken, son of Wolverine
  6. Jean DeWolf, a police detective who used to work with Spider-Man
  7. Dr. Doom’s mother
  8. Leland Drummond, a corrupt FBI man involved in “outing” Daredevil’s secret identity
  9. Richard Fisk, son of the Kingpin (Wilson Fisk)
  10. Flashback, a little-known mutant killed in a weird time-travel scenario created by his own superpowers
  11. Bill Foster, a/k/a Goliath, a/k/a Black Goliath
  12. Adolf Hitler, a/k/a Hate Monger (brought back from the dead, and then re-killed)
  13. Karen Page, the primary love interest of Matt Murdock’s (Daredevil’s) life
  14. Mar-Vell, a Kree warrior who went by the name “Captain Marvel”
  15. Microbe, of the New Warriors
  16. “Battlin’ Jack” Murdock, best-known as Daredevil’s father
  17. Namorita, of the New Warriors
  18. Night Thrasher, of the New Warriors
  19. Scott Perkins, a police officer whom Hector Ayala (see above) was falsely convicted of killing, despite Matt Murdock’s best efforts, as his lawyer, to secure Ayala’s acquittal
  20. Pyro, one of many foes of the X-Men, who was killed, brought back as a zombie, and then killed again
  21. Spider-Man’s father
  22. Spider-Man’s mother
  23. Spider-Man’s Uncle Ben
  24. Gwen Stacy, former girlfriend of Spider-Man
  25. Katherine Anne Summers, the mother of the mutants Cyclops, Havok, and Vulcan
  26. Turbo (the original one)
  27. The chain of unnamed criminals who first got Daredevil’s secret identity from Karen Page to Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin of crime, and were then ordered killed by Fisk
  28. Numerous unnamed people who lack superpowers, and also lack connections to superheroes who are neither Daredevil, nor Spider-Man
  29. The unnamed woman whom Daredevil’s wife Milla, under the influence of mind control, pushed in front of an oncoming subway train, leading to Milla’s institutionalization
  30. At least one person affected by the Wendigo curse (killed by the Red Hulk)

What can we learn from the list above? Well, for one thing, characters in the Marvel Universe who have no superpowers should stay far away from both Daredevil and Spider-Man.

The last list, and easily the longest, includes characters who have recovered from death at least once, and are currently alive in this fictional universe — one where death obviously “has a very loose grip,” as one of my friends on Facebook phrased it.

  1. Bucky Barnes / The Winter Soldier, and, briefly, Captain America
  2. Bullseye
  3. Cannonball
  4. Captain America / Steve Rogers
  5. Colossus, of the X-Men
  6. Cyclops / Scott Summers, of the X-Men
  7. Cypher / Doug Ramsey, of the New Mutants
  8. Daredevil / Matt Murdock
  9. Darwin, of the X-Men
  10. Dead Girl (except that she’s still sort of dead, being, after all, Dead Girl)
  11. Elektra
  12. Firebrand
  13. Vanessa Fisk, estranged wife of Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin
  14. Galactus
  15. Jean Grey (not exactly the same as Phoenix)
  16. The Grim Reaper (brother of Wonder Man)
  17. Havok / Alex Summers
  18. Hawkeye / Clint Barton / Ronin
  19. The Human Torch (original android version)
  20. Loki, Norse God of Mischief
  21. Longshot, of the X-Men
  22. Moira McTaggert, friend of the X-Men
  23. Mockingbird, ex-wife of Hawkeye
  24. Mysterio / Quintin Beck
  25. Nightcrawler, of the X-Men
  26. The Owl / Leland Owlsley
  27. Petra, of the X-Men
  28. Phoenix (not exactly the same as Jean Grey)
  29. Agent Preston
  30. Kathryn “Kitty” Pryde, of the X-Men
  31. Madelyne Pryor, estranged wife of Cyclops / Scott Summers
  32. Psylocke, of the X-Men
  33. The Punisher / Frank Castle
  34. The Red Skull
  35. Rogue, of the X-Men
  36. The Sentry
  37. Speed, of the Young Avengers
  38. Spider-Man / Peter Parker
  39. Spider-Man’s Aunt May
  40. Spider-Man’s clone
  41. Storm / Ororo Munroe, of the X-Men
  42. Hope Summers, of the X-Men
  43. Sway, of the X-Men
  44. Tarot
  45. The Thing / Benjamin Grimm
  46. Thunderbird, of the X-Men
  47. Toro, the original (android) version of the Human Torch
  48. Trickshot
  49. The Vision
  50. Vulcan, of the X-Men (brother of Cyclops and Havok)
  51. Wiccan, of the Young Avengers
  52. Wonder Man
  53. Wong, associated with Dr. Strange
  54. Zzzax

It is clear that the most effective way to cheat death, in the Marvel Universe, is simply to be one of the X-Men. Are there more characters who should be on this list? Yes, but we all got tired after several hours of this, and moved on to other things.

Seriously, though, Marvel needs to stop doing this.

However . . . they won’t.