Detroit, Michigan 1992
My path is clear now, I read the address from the note Hank gave me, now all that stands between me and Albert Zerstoiten is chaos and brutality. Nobody said this would be easy.
The players are out of my league here, super powered individuals who only show up when the local news station tells them they should. Give me that kind of power and I’d change the world, instead of all out war on the streets.
A burning sensation hits my gut, hard to tell if its pain or instinct. Hank said something about a final judgement, this battle is clearly a prelude to something else, something much bigger… and deadlier.
I climb up a fire escape, manage to get above the blood and sweat. The building I need to get to is beyond them. The detective in me suspects this battle is a diversion of some sort, intended to keep the so called heroes at bay.
All brawn and no brain… we’re doomed.
I jump from one building to the next, using every last ounce of strength I have to carry me across. Once past the chaos below me I head for a second fire escape.
Then like a hammer I feel it, my insides feel like they’re about to explode. I fall to the ground in agony, twisting and turning above the warriors below. Stupid old man, you pushed yourself too far… forgot you were only human, you pretend you’re above all this, above all them, but you’re just as battered and broken as the rest.
I hold a hand to my ribs, feeling bone creak against bone, I push myself up from the floor with the other. All the while more than ever noticing my own mortality.
I push myself forward, over the edge and down the fire escape. The soles of my feet crush scattered glass on the floor, the slick oiled liquids that inhabit the ally pool around my feet. I put a hand to the wall and cough up blood, when I look up I see it, just across the street, my final destination.
“Remember me?”
A voice from behind me, I’m slipping. I turn around, and am met with a gun to the face. I feel my jaw move in ways it shouldn’t, I hit the ground, my blood stains the floor.
“I had a good thing going.”
I look up and see him, the man that started it all… dressed in white with the face of a demon. The bride.
“They said I’d find you again, didn’t count on you finding me though.”
Behind him a demon lurks, wings spread… fire spitting from its mouth.
It approaches me with devilish intent, the bride looks on with glee. His hand loosening on the gun, my blood dripping from its grip.
I roll over and slowly get to my knees the demon is in no hurry. I pull a knee up to my chest, letting the other support my body.
With so many super powered people running and flying around it’s easy to forget about the abilities of a normal man. Sure we can’t fly and lift cars above our heads.
“Make it slow, I want to see his expression change when his life is ripped from his heart.”
The demon turns and smiles at the bride.
Mistake.
I push my knee from my chest, using the oiled lubricated floor to slide through the demons legs. The look on the brides face is worth the pain coming from my ribs as I snatch the gun from his loosened hand and blow a hole in the demons head.
It falls to the ground, smoke and black tar slip from the wound. The bride tries to kick me whilst I’m down, I shoot his feet from under him.
I slowly climb to my feet and walk towards the bride.
“I won’t tell you anything this time. Just go ahead and kill me.”
I slide my hand to the barrel of the gun pull my arm back and swing… knocking him out cold.
“Shhh.”
This is the point where I take the prisoner down to the station, but things are a little different now. Invisible needles remind me of my limited time.
I relieve the gun of its cargo, throw it away and make my way across the street.
I get to the middle of the street when I see it. An explosion in the sky, so small yet so loud.
I turn to the battle, a few of the heroes look up in the sky with regret. One lone hero sheds a tear as they mouth the word.
“… vanguard…”
This seems to only make them fight harder. I get to the building and I’m met with two spandex wearing heroes. I know it’s the end of July, but this is pushing it.
“Stand back citizen, leave Doctor Destroyer to us.”
I’d ask to see there superhero badge, but I doubt they’d get the joke.
“Its been a long few days, super powers or not, I’m going through that door.”
They seem to be in a hurry, they rush past me and leave me to my fate.
Which suits me fine.
I’m about to head inside when the door blows off its hinges, making me dive out of the way. One hero flies out, a lifeless shell of what went inside. The second jumps outside and lands beside him, noticing his friends fate he looks up towards the door.
“You animal… you killed him.”
A man in a suit of armor steps outside, sunlight bouncing from his golden frame.
“Is it not you, who sought to kill me?”
The lone hero stands up ready to face the challenge ahead.
“Only to stop you… you’ve hurt too many people, I can’t let it go on any longer.”
Brave words, but it doesn’t take a scientist to know this guys out matched.
The golden man steps forward, towards the lone hero. Leaving a route clear for me to slip inside.
The spandex wearing hero will do his job… its time for me to do mine.
I head to the door, a small group of heroes join the man in spandex, evening the odds a little. Makes my decision seem less cowardly, but I have to get inside, and in my condition I wouldn’t last more than fifteen seconds with that guy.
Once inside its simply a matter of heading towards the most expensive looking thing in the building, which just so happens to be a giant computer flashing with blue and purple lights. A big red button glows violent red, above it sits a computer screen showing me my fate.
T-Minus 10 seconds.
I’m not a computer hacker, I can’t re program a VCR let alone a master computer in a villains lair.
I do what any sane man would do in a situation like this. I run as fast as I can towards the door, picking up a piece of splintered door frame as I do.
I bolt through the door and towards the battle outside. Spotting the man in the golden armor being almost over whelmed by the attacking heroes. I leap towards him, splintered wood in hands, my body is broken, but my soul is mended.
As I land a perfect shot to his head one beautiful brilliant flash erupts from the sky like a stairway to heaven, coming to claim our souls.
In my last moments I feel empty, I can’t help but wonder if all this had been for nothing. Despite my best intentions I did nothing, no one is any better because of me.
Then just before the sky goes black, before my eyes are closed and my mind wonders off I see it. A small yellow cab, its passengers looking in there rear view mirror and seeing the destruction, in the distance.
I wonder if anyone will remember me, if they’ll know how much I suffered these past few days. I wonder if anyone will remember the name Detective Drake Vermont.
The End
Thursday 21 May 2009
Legend of a Hero - Issue Twelve -
Detroit, Michigan 1992
The cab meter counts down as I wait for the angel to return. She appears from the front of the car holding my hat, her face is scrunched up and confused.
She looks at me with a mix of scorn and distaste.
She stops short of the door, hat in hand.
“Is this what you were looking for?”
She passes me the hat, then retreats away from the door.
“Where did you get the car?”
The clocks ticking, don’t have time for questions.
“A friend of mine lent it me.”
The lie brings a bitter taste to my mouth.
“What’s he called?”
I don’t like where this is leading. I read from the cab drivers I.D.
“Kenny.”
A slight smirk appears up the side of her mouth. Wrong answer.
“That’s strange… this car looks exactly like my boyfriends.”
What are the odds.
“He dropped me off here then went to meet someone at Riverside.”
It can’t be a coincidence.
“So tell me again…”
She pulls out a gun, the cab driver makes a run for it, leaving the keys behind.
“… where did you get the car?”
The cab meter counts down as I wait for the angel to return. She appears from the front of the car holding my hat, her face is scrunched up and confused.
She looks at me with a mix of scorn and distaste.
She stops short of the door, hat in hand.
“Is this what you were looking for?”
She passes me the hat, then retreats away from the door.
“Where did you get the car?”
The clocks ticking, don’t have time for questions.
“A friend of mine lent it me.”
The lie brings a bitter taste to my mouth.
“What’s he called?”
I don’t like where this is leading. I read from the cab drivers I.D.
“Kenny.”
A slight smirk appears up the side of her mouth. Wrong answer.
“That’s strange… this car looks exactly like my boyfriends.”
What are the odds.
“He dropped me off here then went to meet someone at Riverside.”
It can’t be a coincidence.
“So tell me again…”
She pulls out a gun, the cab driver makes a run for it, leaving the keys behind.
“… where did you get the car?”
Legend of a Hero - Issue Five -
I have a good life, wife, kids… white picket fence, I have it all.
The smell of freshly cooked bacon wakes me from my peaceful slumber, my son climbs onto the bed, I greet him with open arms.
“… scalpel… “
I dress for the day, a suit pressed and clean, shoes that reflect my success, and a smile like a grand piano.
Upon heading down the stairs I am passed by my daughter, I reach the kitchen my wife places a kiss on my cheek, I return one in kind. The family I’ve always wanted.
“… he’s rupturing.. “
The bacon is sharp and crisp, the eggs as white as snow. My family watch on as I take the first bite, content in my satisfaction.
“… we’re losing him…”
I check my watch, still have time for one last kiss, my wife tastes like a freshly picked fruit, soft and sweet to the touch.
I wave them goodbye as I climb into my car, continuing to do so as I back out of the driveway.
“… clear…”
Two kids.
“… clear…”
A wife.
“… clear…”
I have a good life.
“… time of death… “
I have a good life.
“… doctor!… “
Something’s not right.
“… impossible… “
I feel a pain in my gut, like I’ve been misplaced.
“… forty and rising…”
My car smells like an open wound, above me the sky goes black.
“… fifty… “
The crows gather, mocking my every move.
“… seventy… “
Only darkness now, in the distance a light calls to me, a voice I don’t recognize reassures me, tells me I’m going to be alright.
Detroit, Michigan 1992
The smell of despair wakes me from my trance, the flood gates of my life filter into an unsuspecting vessel.
It was a lie, the kids, the wife… everything, a dream. A dream replaced by a waking nightmare. The room is deceptively white, the window lets in a sea of polluted air… for a second its my wife’s delicate hands touching my skin. But there is no wife, just the stench of the real world.
I hear a voice.
“Welcome back.”
A nurse, ruby red slippers tap along the tiled floor.
“You had us scared for a while there.”
She moves towards me, smiling as she does.
“Doctor said it was a miracle.”
Soft hands stroke my head, I close my eyes and think of home.
“Which is a big thing for a Doctor to admit.”
She walks away, leaving me only a broken promise of things to come.
“I’ll come back and check on you in a little while.”
She leaves me to my false memories.
I sit up, feeling my ribs shout for attention as I do. I use the pain, block out the lies. Making my way to the window is agony, something I’m used to. I can see the parking lot, old rusty cars try to hide behind their sparkling counterparts. The city cries out to me, asks me to continue, asks me to help. I close the window, hearing its scream as I do.
The room closes in on me, trying to squeeze my soul from my body. I head outside, follow the signs for the restroom, need a change of scenery.
I pass the check-in desk, the nurse scolds me with accusing eyes, then turns to face a visitor with fake smiles and puppy dog eyes.
“Can I help you.”
Her spell has been cast.
“Yes, I’m Mr Hinderman, I’m here to see a client… he was in a car accident last night...”
She cuts him short.
“Ah yes, Doctor Johnson said you’d be stopping by… room 204.”
Better the devil you know.
I turn away from Hinderman and his entourage. They pass without a second glance. I hobble to the restroom, once inside I face the mirror. I look like hell, feel it too… only a matter of time before they find my bed empty. Another minute until they find me in here.
I should run and hide, find a place to lie low… but I’m no stranger to these types of people. When the cities an open sewer, all the vermin come out to play.
To be continued…
The smell of freshly cooked bacon wakes me from my peaceful slumber, my son climbs onto the bed, I greet him with open arms.
“… scalpel… “
I dress for the day, a suit pressed and clean, shoes that reflect my success, and a smile like a grand piano.
Upon heading down the stairs I am passed by my daughter, I reach the kitchen my wife places a kiss on my cheek, I return one in kind. The family I’ve always wanted.
“… he’s rupturing.. “
The bacon is sharp and crisp, the eggs as white as snow. My family watch on as I take the first bite, content in my satisfaction.
“… we’re losing him…”
I check my watch, still have time for one last kiss, my wife tastes like a freshly picked fruit, soft and sweet to the touch.
I wave them goodbye as I climb into my car, continuing to do so as I back out of the driveway.
“… clear…”
Two kids.
“… clear…”
A wife.
“… clear…”
I have a good life.
“… time of death… “
I have a good life.
“… doctor!… “
Something’s not right.
“… impossible… “
I feel a pain in my gut, like I’ve been misplaced.
“… forty and rising…”
My car smells like an open wound, above me the sky goes black.
“… fifty… “
The crows gather, mocking my every move.
“… seventy… “
Only darkness now, in the distance a light calls to me, a voice I don’t recognize reassures me, tells me I’m going to be alright.
Detroit, Michigan 1992
The smell of despair wakes me from my trance, the flood gates of my life filter into an unsuspecting vessel.
It was a lie, the kids, the wife… everything, a dream. A dream replaced by a waking nightmare. The room is deceptively white, the window lets in a sea of polluted air… for a second its my wife’s delicate hands touching my skin. But there is no wife, just the stench of the real world.
I hear a voice.
“Welcome back.”
A nurse, ruby red slippers tap along the tiled floor.
“You had us scared for a while there.”
She moves towards me, smiling as she does.
“Doctor said it was a miracle.”
Soft hands stroke my head, I close my eyes and think of home.
“Which is a big thing for a Doctor to admit.”
She walks away, leaving me only a broken promise of things to come.
“I’ll come back and check on you in a little while.”
She leaves me to my false memories.
I sit up, feeling my ribs shout for attention as I do. I use the pain, block out the lies. Making my way to the window is agony, something I’m used to. I can see the parking lot, old rusty cars try to hide behind their sparkling counterparts. The city cries out to me, asks me to continue, asks me to help. I close the window, hearing its scream as I do.
The room closes in on me, trying to squeeze my soul from my body. I head outside, follow the signs for the restroom, need a change of scenery.
I pass the check-in desk, the nurse scolds me with accusing eyes, then turns to face a visitor with fake smiles and puppy dog eyes.
“Can I help you.”
Her spell has been cast.
“Yes, I’m Mr Hinderman, I’m here to see a client… he was in a car accident last night...”
She cuts him short.
“Ah yes, Doctor Johnson said you’d be stopping by… room 204.”
Better the devil you know.
I turn away from Hinderman and his entourage. They pass without a second glance. I hobble to the restroom, once inside I face the mirror. I look like hell, feel it too… only a matter of time before they find my bed empty. Another minute until they find me in here.
I should run and hide, find a place to lie low… but I’m no stranger to these types of people. When the cities an open sewer, all the vermin come out to play.
To be continued…
Legend of a Hero - Issue Four -
Detroit, Michigan 1992
My head pulses like a car alarm, reminding me how I came to be here.
My bonds are tight, can’t break free. I spent four years teaching myself how to pick locks, it never occurred to me that I’d need to escape rope... Houdini rolls in his grave.
My self pity is quickly broken by two partially shadowed figures, one enters with intent, the other a bat. The weapons a prop, he lays in at a table next to me. The other puts his face into mine and looks me in the eyes.
“Who are you?”
His breath smells like garbage in a heat wave.
“I’ll ask you again…”
The second stooge picks up the bat.
“… who are you?”
I’ve seen this dance before, interrogation by intimidation, its nothing new. I don’t say anything, my badge is in my pocket, I’m not gonna do their work for them.
Babe Ruth moves behind me, bat in hand. This is really gonna hurt.
The door swings open, another man enters, red faced and out of breath.
“Mr Hinderman sir, I’m sorry…”
So this is Hinderman.
“… Mr Zerstoiten is here.”
Things just keep getting better.
The walking garbage truck moves towards the door, motioning to the man behind me as he does.
Once the door closes my shadow moves to the front, smiling all the while.
“Looks like its just you and me…”
This guy must be some sort of genius.
“… and just so you know…”
He puts his face in mine.
“… I’m not gonna ask any questions…”
I move my head as far back as it can go.
“… I’m just gonna make you bleed.”
I drive my head forward like a jackhammer. The familiar sound of bone through flesh echoes throughout my skull, he falls to the ground, dropping the bat as he does… you’re out.
I feel good about myself for about three seconds, until I realize I’m still securely tied to a chair. I flail wildly, trying desperately to get free, then it hits me… I crash to the floor like a bat out of hell, the chair breaks under my weight. I climb to my feet, removing the last pieces of rope as I do.
The man on the floor stirs, I contemplate using the bat… I let him be, never was much of a ball player.
The door isn’t locked, the hallway is empty, the stairway is a ghost.
Albert Zerstoiten is more ego than man, I head to the top floor, through the hallway and towards the door with Mr D.Hinderman stenciled across.
Once at the door my actions are confirmed. Voices raise, I half expect another gun to go off, I place my ear to the door, cliché I know but I didn’t have a glass cup handy.
“Is everything in place.”
German accent.
“Yes Mr Zerstoiten, the players are in place.”
Hinderman, sniveling weasel.
“Good, I don’t intend to fail this time, send word Doctor Destroyer is h…”
The ground creaks beneath me. I curse myself silently under my breath.
Footsteps move towards the door, gathering pace as they approach. I make a hasty retreat, heading for the stairway. A man blocks my path, I run through him, leaving my autograph as I do. Bullets chase me down the corridor, one bites me on the leg, have to get out quick.
I turn into an office, a chair catches my eye, I use it to open the window. The glass shatters into the night sky whilst the chair travels to earth… I follow.
My coat catches the wind, and for a moment I feel like I can fly, but I’m quickly brought back down to earth.
My momentum carries me towards a neighboring building, close enough to reach out and grab the ledge. My shoulder pops, my other arm takes the weight, pulling me up in the process.
I don’t have time to worry about the shoulder, need to get off this roof. I head for the fire escape and traverse downwards all the while dodging bullets from the window I so gracefully leaped from.
Upon reaching the street I head east, away from the building that tried so desperately to kill me, not noticing the white lights of a man made death trap heading my way.
… darkness…
… an empty feeling overwhelms me, I sink in an ocean of black tar under dark skies...
To be continued…
My head pulses like a car alarm, reminding me how I came to be here.
My bonds are tight, can’t break free. I spent four years teaching myself how to pick locks, it never occurred to me that I’d need to escape rope... Houdini rolls in his grave.
My self pity is quickly broken by two partially shadowed figures, one enters with intent, the other a bat. The weapons a prop, he lays in at a table next to me. The other puts his face into mine and looks me in the eyes.
“Who are you?”
His breath smells like garbage in a heat wave.
“I’ll ask you again…”
The second stooge picks up the bat.
“… who are you?”
I’ve seen this dance before, interrogation by intimidation, its nothing new. I don’t say anything, my badge is in my pocket, I’m not gonna do their work for them.
Babe Ruth moves behind me, bat in hand. This is really gonna hurt.
The door swings open, another man enters, red faced and out of breath.
“Mr Hinderman sir, I’m sorry…”
So this is Hinderman.
“… Mr Zerstoiten is here.”
Things just keep getting better.
The walking garbage truck moves towards the door, motioning to the man behind me as he does.
Once the door closes my shadow moves to the front, smiling all the while.
“Looks like its just you and me…”
This guy must be some sort of genius.
“… and just so you know…”
He puts his face in mine.
“… I’m not gonna ask any questions…”
I move my head as far back as it can go.
“… I’m just gonna make you bleed.”
I drive my head forward like a jackhammer. The familiar sound of bone through flesh echoes throughout my skull, he falls to the ground, dropping the bat as he does… you’re out.
I feel good about myself for about three seconds, until I realize I’m still securely tied to a chair. I flail wildly, trying desperately to get free, then it hits me… I crash to the floor like a bat out of hell, the chair breaks under my weight. I climb to my feet, removing the last pieces of rope as I do.
The man on the floor stirs, I contemplate using the bat… I let him be, never was much of a ball player.
The door isn’t locked, the hallway is empty, the stairway is a ghost.
Albert Zerstoiten is more ego than man, I head to the top floor, through the hallway and towards the door with Mr D.Hinderman stenciled across.
Once at the door my actions are confirmed. Voices raise, I half expect another gun to go off, I place my ear to the door, cliché I know but I didn’t have a glass cup handy.
“Is everything in place.”
German accent.
“Yes Mr Zerstoiten, the players are in place.”
Hinderman, sniveling weasel.
“Good, I don’t intend to fail this time, send word Doctor Destroyer is h…”
The ground creaks beneath me. I curse myself silently under my breath.
Footsteps move towards the door, gathering pace as they approach. I make a hasty retreat, heading for the stairway. A man blocks my path, I run through him, leaving my autograph as I do. Bullets chase me down the corridor, one bites me on the leg, have to get out quick.
I turn into an office, a chair catches my eye, I use it to open the window. The glass shatters into the night sky whilst the chair travels to earth… I follow.
My coat catches the wind, and for a moment I feel like I can fly, but I’m quickly brought back down to earth.
My momentum carries me towards a neighboring building, close enough to reach out and grab the ledge. My shoulder pops, my other arm takes the weight, pulling me up in the process.
I don’t have time to worry about the shoulder, need to get off this roof. I head for the fire escape and traverse downwards all the while dodging bullets from the window I so gracefully leaped from.
Upon reaching the street I head east, away from the building that tried so desperately to kill me, not noticing the white lights of a man made death trap heading my way.
… darkness…
… an empty feeling overwhelms me, I sink in an ocean of black tar under dark skies...
To be continued…
Legend of a Hero - Issue One -
Millennium City 2009
Millennium City, a metropolis to those who can afford it. A city of luxury surrounded by the loop, an elitist’s highway born from Millennium City’s rise to power. Its lust for technology allowed it to forget about its past, about how it was once a different city, with a different name, and a fate that this new shroud could do well to remember…
Detroit, Michigan 1992
A man stands on a rooftop, his frame almost hidden by the night. He throws a cigarette into the empty space between one building and the next.
The figure pauses then slowly examines the city as a father would his crying child. Taking care to pause and listen for the faintest sound…
… like a heartbeat…
Three murders in as many nights, the chief wants this wrapped up, can’t say I blame him. All three victims were woman, mid twenties, blonde hair, and one day away from their wedding day.
The media eats that up, nothing like a good sob story to tell the masses, make the police force look like a bunch on inept morons who care little for human emotion. When you’ve seen as much blood as I have, you learn to leave your emotions at the door.
Something echoes in the air, it sounds like the dull buzz of an electric razor going dead, then I hear it, a scream.
I run across the rooftops, trying my best to avoid the man made pit falls that shadow every alleyway. I run, and jump and then… I’m there.
The scream is gone, its been replaced by a lifeless women looking up at me, cold accusing eyes curse me for not being faster, then I hear it again, the buzzing sound.
It’s not that far, whoever it is doesn’t know I’m here, maybe, just maybe I can stop him before…
"HEEEELLLPPPP!!!!"
I don’t run, this time I go faster, allowing the adrenaline to overwhelm me, and with it comes a sudden surge of energy. I arrive on the scene just in time, but what I see shocks even me.
A man dressed in a wedding dress is crouched over a woman, he holds a taser in his hand and a knife in the other. The taser had its shot, now it’s the knifes turn.
I move fast, jumping from a four story building and landing on a mans spine isn’t something I’m proud of, but if it saves another life then so be it.
I leap from my perch above the enfolding drama and allow gravity to do the rest, I’m smiling, I’m about to cripple a man and I’m smiling. I tell myself it’s the rush, that free failing from four stories has made me euphoric, I’ve told myself a lot of things over the years… not all of them were lies.
He’s fast, catches me in the corner of his eye just before I land, strikes out with the knife… suddenly gravity is no longer my ally.
I twist as best I can, taking the brunt of the damage away from my vital organs. I hit the ground and roll, noticing the pools of blood as I do. For a moment I think I’m too late, but my concern subsides when I realise its my own.
He spins around, apparently forgetting about the woman, his entire focus is on me. I stand up, coughing up blood as I do, don’t want to give too much away, that knife cut deeper than I would’ve liked.
He runs for me, knife in hand ready to strike, I jump back avoiding the first swipe, then counter it with a move of my own.
The last thing he hears before he blacks out is a faint buzzing sound, like an electric razor… or a tazer that he carelessly dropped whilst taking chunks outta me.
The woman gets to her feet, she’s in panic mode, something that most people go into instead of shock. This, as well as her fear, causes her to run, straight into the path of a speeding truck… it doesn’t even slow down as it paints the sidewalk red.
“So much for saving a life, some hero I turned out to be.”
The bride speaks…
“He’s coming” he spits out “You’re already dead”
I decide to play along, knowledge is power, however pointless it may seem at the time.
“Who is”
A wry smile forms on his face as he gives me the finger… so I take it, he doesn’t smile anymore.
“Albert…” he cries “Albert Zerstoiten”
He notices my skin change complection, his smile returns.
“So you see” he gloats “You’re already dead, every last one of…”
I cut him off before he has a chance to finish, maybe its just so I can feel a sense of control, it doesn’t work.
How did this creep know about Albert Zerstoiten, and how does he know where he is?
I pick up his unconscious body and head downtown, I get two, maybe three steps before… something comes from above, something big, grabs his body and makes off into the night sky. I don’t get a good look, but I can guess whoever it was, they have something to do with Zerstoiten, aka Doctor Destroyer.
to be continued...
Millennium City, a metropolis to those who can afford it. A city of luxury surrounded by the loop, an elitist’s highway born from Millennium City’s rise to power. Its lust for technology allowed it to forget about its past, about how it was once a different city, with a different name, and a fate that this new shroud could do well to remember…
Detroit, Michigan 1992
A man stands on a rooftop, his frame almost hidden by the night. He throws a cigarette into the empty space between one building and the next.
The figure pauses then slowly examines the city as a father would his crying child. Taking care to pause and listen for the faintest sound…
… like a heartbeat…
Three murders in as many nights, the chief wants this wrapped up, can’t say I blame him. All three victims were woman, mid twenties, blonde hair, and one day away from their wedding day.
The media eats that up, nothing like a good sob story to tell the masses, make the police force look like a bunch on inept morons who care little for human emotion. When you’ve seen as much blood as I have, you learn to leave your emotions at the door.
Something echoes in the air, it sounds like the dull buzz of an electric razor going dead, then I hear it, a scream.
I run across the rooftops, trying my best to avoid the man made pit falls that shadow every alleyway. I run, and jump and then… I’m there.
The scream is gone, its been replaced by a lifeless women looking up at me, cold accusing eyes curse me for not being faster, then I hear it again, the buzzing sound.
It’s not that far, whoever it is doesn’t know I’m here, maybe, just maybe I can stop him before…
"HEEEELLLPPPP!!!!"
I don’t run, this time I go faster, allowing the adrenaline to overwhelm me, and with it comes a sudden surge of energy. I arrive on the scene just in time, but what I see shocks even me.
A man dressed in a wedding dress is crouched over a woman, he holds a taser in his hand and a knife in the other. The taser had its shot, now it’s the knifes turn.
I move fast, jumping from a four story building and landing on a mans spine isn’t something I’m proud of, but if it saves another life then so be it.
I leap from my perch above the enfolding drama and allow gravity to do the rest, I’m smiling, I’m about to cripple a man and I’m smiling. I tell myself it’s the rush, that free failing from four stories has made me euphoric, I’ve told myself a lot of things over the years… not all of them were lies.
He’s fast, catches me in the corner of his eye just before I land, strikes out with the knife… suddenly gravity is no longer my ally.
I twist as best I can, taking the brunt of the damage away from my vital organs. I hit the ground and roll, noticing the pools of blood as I do. For a moment I think I’m too late, but my concern subsides when I realise its my own.
He spins around, apparently forgetting about the woman, his entire focus is on me. I stand up, coughing up blood as I do, don’t want to give too much away, that knife cut deeper than I would’ve liked.
He runs for me, knife in hand ready to strike, I jump back avoiding the first swipe, then counter it with a move of my own.
The last thing he hears before he blacks out is a faint buzzing sound, like an electric razor… or a tazer that he carelessly dropped whilst taking chunks outta me.
The woman gets to her feet, she’s in panic mode, something that most people go into instead of shock. This, as well as her fear, causes her to run, straight into the path of a speeding truck… it doesn’t even slow down as it paints the sidewalk red.
“So much for saving a life, some hero I turned out to be.”
The bride speaks…
“He’s coming” he spits out “You’re already dead”
I decide to play along, knowledge is power, however pointless it may seem at the time.
“Who is”
A wry smile forms on his face as he gives me the finger… so I take it, he doesn’t smile anymore.
“Albert…” he cries “Albert Zerstoiten”
He notices my skin change complection, his smile returns.
“So you see” he gloats “You’re already dead, every last one of…”
I cut him off before he has a chance to finish, maybe its just so I can feel a sense of control, it doesn’t work.
How did this creep know about Albert Zerstoiten, and how does he know where he is?
I pick up his unconscious body and head downtown, I get two, maybe three steps before… something comes from above, something big, grabs his body and makes off into the night sky. I don’t get a good look, but I can guess whoever it was, they have something to do with Zerstoiten, aka Doctor Destroyer.
to be continued...
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