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[b][color=silver]“A Crescent Moon”[/color][/b]
Part 1

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The dreams are back.

Terrible, unintelligible dreams. A nightmare. A nightmare from [i]Khonshu[/i].

But I know it’s a nightmare from Khonshu, because… he was there.

The last time I can remember seeing Khonshu was months ago. The week I had sought out a cult of lunatics operating underneath Queens like a bunch of goddamn morlocks. Cannibals. Cannibals who targeted people in the night who happened to turn the wrong corner at the wrong time. People who they thought would be missed. It was a mistake that quickly caught up with them.

It puzzles me why I haven’t been able to hear Khonshu for this long, but I can’t question him. I won’t. Not when he shows me images, abstract as they might be, on a daily basis. Tonight he showed me New York in peril. Times Square on fire. Skeletal birds flying backwards, underwater. Distorted screams of terror and anger. A dark howl that brought me to my knees before feeling every bone in my body twist and jerk. The only thing distinct I can remember beyond Khonshu’s figure was a few buildings in Queens before a blood-stained door is slammed shut. There’s not much before it all rewinds to Khonshu who points outward before my eyes jolt open in my apartment.

[color=white]“…as the police investigate a warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen that was burn—”[/color]

Click. My TV cuts off as I slam my hand on the remote as I stare dead-eyed into my ceiling. 

I need to start looking into strange activity in Queens.

My attacks on the Maggia will have to wait.

I should’ve expected Khonshu to speak up, in his own way, eventually. I need to commit the images given to me to memory and solve this problem before it becomes somebody else's. 

The Daily Bugle only covers my kind of crazy if I let it get out of hand or it flies in front of Jameson’s nose. I’m not under a microscope like the kid in red or anyone else for that matter. I was an urban legend before the Chitauri decided to say hello to my neighborhood. Or at least I thought so. SHIELD made it seem like they knew everything about everyone. Didn’t matter who you were as long as they had a play to call you up. Surrounded by gods and science accidents I felt like I was the sane one. Me. The one with the god in his head. But I guess there's a first time for everything.

I move off my bed... and headfirst into the floor. There is an aching pain in my skull and I can't tell if its the bad scotch or the prophetic nightmares.

Probably both.

I call out for Marlene.

After a few seconds of silence, I realize she’s not here. She's not going to turn the corner with some painkillers in hand and I can get up to my feet and prepare for the next fight with any form of hope for the future.

Marlene is gone. 

She’s been gone for sixteen months and she is never coming back.
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