Marvel: ‘Infinity War is the most ambitious crossover event in history’

Me:

So, I think these were from around this time in 2018 - my take on novelising the mayhem of that year. I hope you enjoy, and that we can all celebrate 10 years of Sean’s amazing channel today.

Coma
“Jack… This is Chase. You need to wake up.”
His words were a plea, desperate but firm. It wasn’t a beg for his friend to come out of a coma, but a message of hope and sincerity. Jack needed to wake up. Without him, Chase and all the others would have nowhere to go.
Chase gazed at his friend, just an empty shell. What could be going on in there?
Schneeplestein had tried his best, but ultimately that virus took Jack. The good doctor was still on vacation since then. It was a shame there was no word from him, only that post card with nothing else written on it but, “Wish you were here!”
Chase wished he was there.
He’d been missing his children, his life before. They had almost gotten back together; he’d gotten a proper job. ‘Schneep’ had fixed him up but Jack became ill. Stacy didn’t understand that Chase had to look after Jack, his friend.
And now Chase had more to worry about. As well as his own life, career and… family, Chase had to manage things for Jack. Drinks had helped him through it.
It had been his good friend Jack that inspired him to start ‘Bro Average.’ His fans’ favourite cap, grey like his skin and with shades of red like the blood that was about to pump faster around his body, lay on the side next to other cards and flowers arranged by Chase.
His thoughts were silent as Jack’s hand abruptly shot to his neck. His eyes were closed but he traced a line over his throat. Over and over. Standing, Chase grabbed Jack’s free hand.
But was he there anymore?
“I remember what he did to me,” Chase muttered.
It was back. He was back. He needed to get to his family.

Dark Silence
The key struggled to turn in the lock. Chase hadn’t been here in a while—Stacy’s sister’s house where his children now lived.
Dark. It was dark inside and outside the house. It was nice of Stacy to leave the spare key in the same place as their old home. It showed she still held some memories. And it could be what saved their children, if he wasn’t already there.
Things didn’t look good and a chill of sheer dread passed over him—not because his coat now hung by the door, but because of the atmosphere of fear inside the house.
His hand crept down to his pocket and found the familiar shape of his lighter. It had been a new hobby that would now actually bring life and light into the house.
The lighter was like a spotlight around his body and the stage was set as Chase navigated the hall and connecting room to the stairs. His breath was heavy as he trod: a scared tide of air.
The stairs creaked with a dangerous uncertainty, almost as frightened as Chase on top of them. Light flickered on his face, heat throbbing with his heart.
Abruptly there was a sound, a sort of glitch in the silence. It was like some sort of monster’s breath. There was movement in his children’s bedroom.
He stood still. Chase had reached the landing.
He turned a corner…

Thanks for reading!

So, this is a story that I wrote in creative writing sessions in GCSE English. I’m sharing it today to celebrate 10 years of Sean’s amazing channel. I hope anyone who commits to reading this will enjoy past me’s take on the characters.

Jack of All Trades:

One – The Shop
Seán passed many kinds of faces, locals and visitors. There were young couples, school trips, families, people of all varying culture. Today was the day he decided to take a break from his busy work schedule to take an evening walk down The Lanes of Brighton, looking out for cool merch and gifts for his girlfriend.
He stopped, his dyed green and puffy hair coming to a stop from its bouncing. There was a new shop opening that caught his eye. When he had first moved there in May after travelling from Ireland, it was just an old wooden framed building, run down and built around. He had gradually seen it, an antique shop with a mystical feel, be bought and reshaped with a new sign out front and a basement level as well.
Maybe he could find some décor to line the walls or something for a project he had planned?
As he chimed the little bell dangling over the entrance door a sudden smell hit him, like dusty old wood or an old carpet or a damp ceiling.
There were so many treasures haphazardly strung around in disarray, old chests and tables, stuffed animals and skulls, dirty but dazzling ancient mirrors. Those were just a few things his ‘baby blue’ eyes found first.
Silver cutlery and models were on a table in front of him and as Seán shuffled past, he noticed a little old shopkeeper, crammed away with balding white hair, a monocle and waistcoat. He almost looked like a stuffed antique himself.
“Hello,” let out Seán.
“Good day to you, young sir. Welcome to Marvin’s Antiques. We’ve only just opened so… is there anything in particular you are looking for?” he asked as he stood in a slightly unsettling way.
“No, er, not really thanks. I’ll just have a look around thanks er… Are you Marvin?”
“No… ha, no. Marvin is downstairs; he’s the spirit of this place…” the shopkeeper paused as he saw the change in Seán’s face. “Not a phantom or anything like that, just an old mask on the wall downstairs. It hangs over the magic section, on the left as you go down those stairs… Do you want me to show you?”
“Um, no… I mean no thank you.”
“Oh, no, I insist. I can tell you are interested. I can feel it. Let me show you.”
“Okay… but I think I can manage by myself. On the left, down those stairs.”
The old man nodded as Seán navigated his way to the back of the shop.
What had he gotten himself into? He never liked being the only customer on a shop, especially one that gave him the creeps as much as Marvin’s Antiques.
A deer’s head seemed to follow him edge down the first step.
“Be careful of the paintings!”
Seán took the warning and moved with more timid urgency to the basement.
The smell seemed even mustier down there, and colder.

Two - Marvin
Seán gravitated to the left, pulled like a puppet from his head and chest. He almost knocked over the ‘magic’ bookshelf which held not just books, but a crystal ball, old playing and tarot cards in piles, strange gems and coins, artefacts and necklaces and more…
But above it, their eyes met. Well, Seán’s eyes were transfixed on empty sockets. A mask.
It was porcelain but looked eerily primeval. A mask with a strange neutral, blank expression, almost so you could never tell the wearer’s feelings behind it. But it was also a stage mask, probably belonging to some semi-famous old magician.
It also had cat ears moulded on. And whiskers. And a cat’s nose. The feline features had been painted on with peeling reds and purples. On the mask’s forehead were the four card suits. A red diamond was in the centre, with a red heart below it. On the left was a black club and on the right was a black spade.
Seán reached for it, like he was a child reaching for the cookie jar.
His mind was split but his hand made the decision. It, Seán’s right hand, twitched and convulsed as he found himself touching the mask.
Light, like a glitch in reality, green and brighter than the sun, blinded Seán and sent him back into an antique red leather armchair.
As his vision returned, Seán saw the aftermath. Two playing cards had somehow found themselves by his feet. On the left was a black joker, and on the right was the jack of diamonds. What had happened?
A strange vial holding pickled eyeballs, that Seán hoped was fake, had smashed. Glass was spattered along with the green goo from the vial over the old planked floor; it seeped through the boards.
But one eye, dyed green with a blue iris, had escaped the glass and seemed to look right back at Seán from its position by the jack.
What the hell had happened?
Many other ‘magic’ objects littered the floor but Seán didn’t observe them as he realised his right hand was going red, still holding ‘Marvin the Mask’ like it was the oxygen he needed to live.
Luckily, he didn’t die as he carelessly chucked it on the ground.
He needed to leave.
Tentatively, Seán stepped in the direction of the exit steps. He slowly moved his feet over an old revolver, recognising it as probably real.
A few steps away from freedom from this hellish, crazy experience Seán felt a crunch. Who would believe him anyway? Who was that old shopkeeper?
Turning, Seán saw that he had trodden on an old pocket watch with a raven insignia on it.
But, as he turned back the head up the stairs, the old shopkeeper, monocle and all, was grinning, grimacing back at him. He had a strange glint in is eye, a sparkle that shone into Seán’s soul.

Three - Running
In moments, the old man had sped down the stair, much too quickly for his apparent age, unnatural.
Seán found himself staggering backwards over the revolver which seemed to draw him to it. No, Seán told himself in his head. He couldn’t use it. He wouldn’t.
But, nothing about this was normal.
Now, Seán found himself side by side with a trophy on a wall-mounted shelf. It clattered as his shoulder bashed the shelf and in the same moment, in a lightning-quick, jerky, robotic motion, the shopkeeper reached for the revolver and kicked aside a vintage stethoscope. It seemed to pull Seán to it with a shimmering, burning drive, like the mask, the two cards, joker and jack with the eyeball, the pocket watch, the revolver and now some old eye mask, blue glittering fabric which had also fallen to the floor.
But what good would a stethoscope do him in this moment anyway?
The gun was pointed at him as his thoughts raced even faster than his heart.
“Oh f-” Seán was cut off from his profanity.
“Found Marvin alright?” The old man’s voice was like sandpaper, evil sandpaper that was pointing a gun at him. He continued. “Are you… feeling different? They’ve been craving for release, for a new bod-”
Now it was the shopkeeper’s turn to be cut off as Seán grabbed the trophy and found his mark. He knocked the gun away from the old man’s grasp, giving Seán enough time to belt like a rabbity chased by death, past him and up the stairs.
The old man seemed to let it happen but as Seán knocked into and knocked over piles of antique books, he suddenly appeared again by the counter, like a teleporting apparition. Seán shoved past him and out the shop door, the jingle of the bell now a welcome sound, a freedom. He would not be followed into the street by the shopkeeper from hell.
Hell—that was what Seán thought he was in.
Running, running, running.
Running down The Lanes.
Focussed on his goal, his idea of safety, in this current moment the seafront, where he knew his friends would be, taking their two pugs for a walk to the burned down old pier.
Running, running, running.
Wait, what was that?

Four – Is it a Bird? Is it a Plane? No, it’s a hallucination!
Stopping, Seán turned to gaze atop a four-floored building, nearing the seafront. As abruptly as he stood still, heads turned like moths to his lightbulb head. Some teen on a bike let loose his limited vocabulary.
But Seán paid no attention to their judgement. What was that? Who?
A man was perched on the flat rooftop, one leg kneeling. He held his arms to his hips. He wore a tight red spandex bodysuit which went from his ankles to over his head as a stretchy hood. Tied across his face and over his ears was a blue eye mask.
However, what concerned Seán the most were the details he could see, even from across the street. Tufts of green hair escaped like waves from under his hood. And he had the same trimmed beard. In fact, everything was the same.
Seán rubbed his eyes.
That was him up there, the same proportions and mannerisms for holding himself, the same everything.
Seán had always wanted to be a superhero, like Spider-Man on the city skyline.
This ‘superhero Seán’ turned his head, a smile brimming beautiful white teeth.
“Don’t worry citizen! Jackieboy Man is here to save you!”
Nobody else seemed to notice the shouting clone on the rooftop.
And ‘Jackieboy Man’, what kind of a hero name was that? Well, the Jackie part Seán could maybe understand; his mother had always called him Jack when he was younger, his friends called him Jack, his girlfriend even called him Jack sometimes.
Was he going mad?
No, after the antique shop, the creepy shopkeeper and the mask, this was magic! He would never have thought it possible; he’d wanted to, but why would this happen to him?
“Citizen?” Jackieboy Man called out again to Seán, but he was already back on his run to find his friends.
Before he could get to them, though, he saw something else, a third him, leaning against the wall of an alley.
This was perhaps even stranger.

Five – The Good Doctor
“’ello zere!” Do you need any… assistance?”
The first thing Seán thought was: Why am I now a doctor with a bad German accent?”
“I am Doctor Schneeplestein, or Schneep as my friends called me before zey died! Hehe…”
“Why? Who? Schneep? Another one?”
“Anozer what? Doctor? I just came out from my practice for a little smoke- ah… little break. It’s just through zis alley and to ze left.”
“No… sorry doctor… I- I need to go.”
“Oh no, don’t be in a hurry! Just relax. Breathe. Zis is vat I do vith my patients before I operate on zem. I don’t know vy zey vorry; my record is four out of ten non-fatal operations! I am a one-hundred certified doctor!”
It was getting dark and this doctor, with a bad survival rate, was edging closer to Seán. Then he realised that Schneep was looking at where Seán’s tattoo still had red skin around it. It was of a symbol, a fictional design from a video game. It suited him well since he had had it done four days ago.
“Oh… I see some irritation around your lovely tattoo.” This uniformed, stethoscope-wearing doctor clone of Seán held his arm and there was a strange feeling, a pull like with all the objects in the antique shop.
“Do not vorry. I could get some cream or lotion for you. It won’t sting!”
“No thank you doctor. I think I’ll be fine. I- I don’t want to keep you from your practice any longer. Have a nice rest of your day!”
People walking by stopped to regard Seán as crazy and then moved on. What were these… hallucinations, these visions of alter egos?
He needed to catch his friends, Felix and Marzia, before they walked their pugs back home. He was close now; he just needed to get to the burnt down pier where they usually stopped and sat on a bench, and he could tell them what was happening, he needed to tell someone he could trust.
“Okay goodbye! I hope to see you again! I am quite a friendly doctor! I just hope zere vill be no bad circumstances ven ve do!”

Six – You Have to Believe Me!
Having escaped his encounters with Jackieboy Man and Doctor Schneeplestein, Seán finally caught up with Felix and Marzia who were in fact sitting where he thought they’d be.
But what had that mask done? Was he being haunted? The creepy old shopkeeper had said something about ‘They’ve been craving for release.’ Where they ghosts? But why did they both look exactly like him?
Out of breath, Seán landed himself on the bench next to Felix, careful not to tread on Edgar, one of two pugs.
“Jack!” Felix exclaimed in his Swedish accent. Seán and Felix had met over long distance through work. Now they lived in the same city at least. “Jack, what’s wrong?” asked Felix and Marzia hugged their other pug, Maya, closer to her chest in worruy. “You’ve been running, is this part of a new ‘get fit’ routine?”
“No, Felix. I think- something… Something had happened. Antique shop,” Seán exhaled. “Creepy shopkeeper, magic mask, strange ghost clones, superhero… doctor- I’m being hautned or-”
“Woah, calm down Jack. Go slower, breathe. You’re very out of breath,” said Felix, worried for his friend’s wellbeing. Had he spent too long in a VR headset again?
“Jack?” began Marzia. “What are you looking at?”
“They’re everywhere. More spirit mes…” Seán let out after his questioning.
In total four more Seáns were standing on the burnt down pier.
“Marvin! And… who are those?”
“Jack what are you on about?”
Loosely standing in the back of the group of hallucinations was another him, dressed in a blue waistcoat and a bowler hat, very dapper with a pocket watch glinting in the fading light. Another version seemed to be holding a green and orange nerf pistol and wore a grey and red snapback. He stood further in front than the other, pistol aimed through a gap for an impossible trick. But the other two really scared Seán.
The first of these two wore all black clothes but held a gleaming kitchen knife. There seemed to be blood around his neck. Had he killed himself? Then he disappeared and the air around him seemed to shift in lines. The last one had a black cloak around his neck and a blue stage shirt to match. And he wore Marvin’s mask, a strange aura around his hands.
“JACK!?” Felix and the rest of the world came back to Seán, and so did a few passersby’s stares.
“Wha- who… Felix, you can’t see them can you?”
“See what? We’re here to help and it’s getting late; why don’t you start from the beginning and go slowly as we walk you home.”
“No, it’s okay.” Seán sat on the bench next to Marzia, leaving Felix standing.
“I decided to visit the new antique shop…”

Now Felix held his hand on Seán’s shoulder and was consoling him. Seán now had a pug on his lap; it looked slightly scared.
“It’s okay now Jack, we’ll walk you back. You can’t see them anymore. They’re gone. You’re gonna be fine. We can sort this out tomorrow.”
“Thank you Felix, and you Marzia for listening.” Seán’s own girlfriend must be worried. “You’re right. Let’s go…”

Seven – Two-Faced
Marzia had taken the pugs home so now Seán and Felix walked side by side, striding down the main shopping streets that had seemed a lot more packed earlier.
The visions seemed to have disappeared and Seán felt more fulfilled inside. He felt sane with Felix next to him, like a bodyguard against the world. They stopped a few times to look through shop windows and Seán mocked an item he could see through the glass.
Felix noted Seán was becoming himself again, but it was only a short happy thought.
Abruptly Seán’s face dropped as if lightning had struck and killed his best friend. But what he saw in the glass rippled through his soul.
The same version of him, the same spirit dressed in black, hair crazier than his and smile wilder than a grinning hyena’s. His skin looked slightly green. The demon held a knife still and began moving it just above the cut line on his neck, a jesting tree-feller stuck with the saw.
“Over and over…” it said in a voice, high and gleeful like a child but with a base drum’s deadly undertone. It sounded slightly… artificial. “Tired of playing pretend. Stuck in that mask. I thought I’d be stuck forever… inside,” it chimed again, hauntingly. “Say goodbye.”
It lifted the knife behind Felix, ready to strike. Seán turned as Felix was oblivious and concerned again with his behaviour.
“Felix!” Seán called out.
Swish!
The knife fell through the air as if a waterfall had suddenly burst to life.
But Felix was fine. He lifted a hand out to Seán. “Oh Jack… shh. It’ll be okay. I’m fine, let’s move on.”
Seán was not fine. His face changed. He looked down. He was wearing all black. And he held a knife. Seán could feel his limbs moving, the knife heavy in his hand/
He wasn’t in control.
That demon spirit was.
“You stopped paying attention, Felix. You just watched as this happened! Powerless. He is my puppet now.”
Felix was now the one with his face in shock. He couldn’t see the black clothes or the knife but… that voice.
Had one of his best friends really gone insane?
“Seán?” he asked feebly.
“I wonder what will happen to your best friend this time?”
Seán could see himself raise the knife, its blade pointed at Felix like a magnet to another magnet. He was screaming inside, for help, to help Felix, for this whole thing to have been false.
He prayed this wasn’t real.
All of this crying out was over soon as the knife edge slashed down. No blade stabbed into Felix but he staggered and tumbled onto the road. The concrete made his knee gush red as the warm liquid was soaked up by the fabric of his jeans.
For a second Seán was himself; his face returned with an expression of a thousand words.
What had he done?

Eight – Alter Egos Engulfing
“Ah… ’ello zere. Felix is it? I am Doctor Schneeplestein. I see you have a bit of a graze zere. Let me get my suppliez…”
“Seán?”
“Seán? Who is Seán? Don’t worry Felix. You must be concussed.”
“No… I… Oh…” Felix just gave up. “My hero,” he muttered darkly.
“Did somebody say they needed a hero? Don’t fear Swedish citizen, Jackieboy Man is here!”
Felix stood, debating whether to run from his crazed friend. People were gathering all around now, a crowd around the scene, unsure of what was happening/
“What kind of magic show is this?” one spectator asked.
Seán posed differently again, feeling the cat mask on his face, the black cloak trailing behind him. He waved a wand around as he muttered, “Gather round, gather round! Marven the Magnificent is here to entertain one and all!”
“Seán… please… stop… I’m…” Felix’s voice was so lost in despair it seeped through the spirits’ souls and to Seán himself.
Suddenly Marvin was no more. These spirits were still weak but he could feel that demon one twisting inside. Seán was so shocked though, at what he had done, at what was happening inside him and he covered his face as it flushed red.
He held his hands to his face all the way through the crowd until he was far from anybody. Seán collapsed on the ground in a dark alley, the stars over his head.
He was alone again, lost in this torment.
But what could he do?
He tried to focus on all that had happened since he had entered that shop. He didn’t know how long it took but his brain locked onto an idea. Obviously, the mask was magic, but when he touched it, and the spirits had entered his body, those other objects that had fallen seemed infused with the same power. And he had the strong suspicion that the spirits that were overtaking his body each had an item they were tied to.
He repeated the list in his mind, of all he had seen. Repeating over and over which spirit related to which object, lingering on what a twist of fate it was that a jack had fallen. And that eye…
He had to destroy the items.
But before Seán could hatch a plan, his eyes looked to the wall at the end of the alley. Something or somebody, compelled him to vault it. He stood, not by his own accord, and looked against a blank wall as if he was talking to an audience behind a camera.
“Hey guys! I’m Chase, and welcome back to Bro Average!” Seán could tell he was now controlled by the spirit that had been holding that nerf gun, some mind-mockery of the revolver. He felt the cap on his green hair.
“Today, we are attempting something I’m calling… The Back Alley Wall Hop.”
He felt his legs come to life, breaking into a sprint… but then he saw a familiar knife in his hand.
“Not so fast Chase. I’m in control! It’s all over now. Say goodbye!” The knife-wielding demon spirit pushed Chase aside, fighting to gain control of Seán’s mind. “I am eternal! You shall not beat me to this body! None of you!”
He felt like his brain was being attacked from all sides and there were glimmers of hope of all the other spirits inside. He preferred being Chase, Jackie, or even Schneep…
Somebody walked past the alley. Seán raised his arms and strolled towards them.
The knife shined under the light of the moon…
The man turned, laughing.
His monocle glinted in the same light too.

And that was as far as I got. I don’t think I had a real climax in mind, just the egos fighting for control of the one body.

Thanks for reading!

Hey, JSE community. Its me, your friendly neighbourhood badger back again. I just thought I’d share what I can remember from my dream last night. Basically the dream was set tomorrow (1st of Aug) and I was watching Jack’s first video back from his break. It was a vlog, some sort of catch-up house tour, and then suddenly anti took over the vlog appearing in the mirror as the video darkened. I guess its my hopeful mind that we’ll get more ego content soon, but I can wait as long as it takes. Anyway, that’s it. Just thought I’d share that concept, we’ll see what Sean uploads tomorrow, if he does.