When they each arrived on the island, they had no memory of how they wound up there, but they did have all of their memories, least up until the time they were pulled from their particular fandom. Some of them were just plain human beings, others had supernatural powers, and a handful of them were actual celebrities. At first it was just two of them, but two soon turned into 48, and chaos eventually ensued.
The last thing Victor Von Doom remembered was a huge cannonball hurling towards him, then landing in the ocean. He was falling and falling and falling. He couldn't stop. Everything grew darker and darker, and all of this happened after Johnny Storm, otherwise known as "The Human Torch," combined his powers with that of the rest of The Fantastic Four to beat him down for stealing the Silver Surfer's board. His intent was to kill them all then...the world. The board would of given him unlimited power, unlike anything he'd ever seen before, power that he wanted to gain back after failing miserably to take down their team the first time. He'd been locked away in an iron chamber for far too long, and after stumbling upon the Silver Surfer, he had found a way to get his handsome face back, a face that had been so rudely taken from him after his encounter with the cosmic storm in space left him covered in disgusting metallic scars.
Victor began to stir on the bed he was lying on, choking on and coughing up the water in his throat, but due to the mask on his face, it didn't seem to go anywhere but back down again. With an angry growl, he reached up, grabbing the metallic object and pulling it off of his face. Opening his eyes, he hung his head over the side of the cot, attempting to cough up the water a second time and succeeding. He coughed a couple times then pushed himself up to a seated position, looking around the huge white room, empty beds all around him. There had to be at least forty. "Where the hell am I?" He asked, to no one in particular but himself. Looking down at his un-scarred hands, he smiled, pleased to see that he was back to his old self again...but unfortunately, without the Silver Surfer's board. He slammed his foot down on the ground with an angry growl, and pushed himself up to his feet, throwing off his black leather cloak and stalking towards the door. Lifting his hand in front of his face, he blinked a few times as he attempted to adjust his steely green eyes to the sunlight hanging in the bright blue sky.
Slowly lowering his hand, he looked around, noticing that he was on what appeared to be a secluded beach, but where...he did not know. A muscle noticeably flexed in his jaw as he started across the sand and down the beach, an unfamiliar female figure standing by the shore, her hands on her hips, looking to be as lost as he was.