Snippet #2483298

As John reached the front doors of the apartment building he quickly began walking down the sidewalk, trying to walk slow enough to not look suspicious and at the same time fast enough that he could get home before the nightly news was over. As he walked at his brisk pace his eyes couldn’t help but notice the sun's burning shape slowly fading off in the horizon as the dying rays cast an amber glow across the various sky scrapers and tenement buildings within his view. It was actually quite beautiful. If he hadn’t been so lost in thought and focused on the scenery he might have noticed the figure in black atop the roof of the large building directly adjacent to Screams apartment, probably not though-it seemed as if none of the dozens of people walking the busy sidewalks had noticed him.

Vincent Doran, also known as the Midnight Masher among the papers, sat high atop the streets on the roof of the slightly upscale apartments adjacent to where the man known as 'Scream' made his home. He had been following the mans exploits over the past year and he had to admit that he was rather effective and the fact that the man hadn’t stopped patrolling the streets over the past years made him greatly respect the man. Although he had been following the mans hero career for years it hadn’t been until the last week he had physically begun to watch the man, he needed to make a final decision on whether or not to invite him to be apart of the team he had been putting together the past month.

As he thought of the word 'team' a scowl spread under his masked face, thoughts of his old team flooding his mind. Back in the day he had been apart of the only real Super Hero group that resided within Kansas City, they stupidly had referred to themselves as the 'Super Seven'. Despite the dumb group name they had been some of the best men and women Vince had known in his life and as a group they had decided to continue to fight crime and serve the public. These days however the entire team, save for Vince himself, were dead and buried, hunted like common criminals at the passing of the 28th by the newly formed Cape Killers.

Over the years Vince had gone from protecting citizens from crime to protecting meta's from their own government. In the old days when he had been part of a team he fought with nothing more then his fists and a shield along with the occasional use of his powers but now when he'd stalk the streets at night he was damn near a walking armory. His huge arsenal contained just about everything, from the two .45 caliber pistols strapped to each leg and the sub machine gun tucked into his belt to the large caliber rifle strapped across his back and a medium sized curved blade attached to his lower right leg. He also carried his old signature black shield but used it far less these days. Over the past ten years the amount of cape killers that had died at his hands was rumored to be in the triple digits and Vince felt no remorse over a single one, there was a reason he had earned the title of 2nd most wanted meta in Kansas City Missouri.

Kneeling atop the roof in his kevlar looking black armor that covered nearly every inch of him he grasped a pair of binoculars in his hands. Putting the large black binoculars up to his eyes he continued to peer across the street into Screams apartment, not that he could really see anything but he was determined to find out who the newcomer was he had brought home-over the week he'd been following Scream he never once had seen someone else follow him into his apartment, and he knew the best way to find answers was to be patient.