William Edwards's Story

OOC NOTES:

• Please make sure you have read the entire introduction and also the information written under the ‘Culprit City’ place page, found under the ‘Places’ tab. This will give you information on the armoury, the SafeSite building and how rule breaking will be dealt with. Rule breaking includes the removal of Criminal/Hero bands.
• I suggest that any combat between played characters be written collaboratively. (TitanPad)
• Do not feel the need to match the word count of this post. I’d much prefer shorter posts around 300-500 words, though. This is not a rule.
• Players are placed randomly across the city. You may choose where. I hope everyone spreads themselves out decently. Weapons have to be gained inside the city; they did not enter with any. All are currently wearing the same black outfit from head to toe, consisting of: boots, trousers, a T-shirt and a waterproof jacket with pockets.
• Anything that is not addressed in the introduction or in the Culprit City place page that you wish to know, post in the OOC.

The atmosphere inside Station 7 was electric. Fittingly, a lightning storm was raging outside but it did little to dampen and destroy the mood. The Station was well protected, and the people inside were safe. The same could not be said for those which the hundreds of screens inside the main room of the ‘Culprit City’ floor in Station 7 depicted. The mostly haunted and gaunt faces of the criminals peered out from many, their expressions ranging from desperate to determined to downright disgusted, getting drenched in the downpour. Other screens showed Heroes, marked by the green bands around their arms rather than the red, criminal ones. It rained down on them, too, though it did not make them look desolate as it did the more helpless criminals, nor as evil as the more frightening ones. The water which ran down their figures made their faces gleam. It highlighted their straight, strong shoulders and confident stances. It painted them formidably. The panoramic screen with took pride of place in the Station showed Culprit City’s clumsy skyline. Dark clouds filled the sky above, but the rain was lightening up.

Soon, all of the ‘players’ were in their randomly allocated starting positions and left to soak until the klaxon roared. The sound of tapping keys and excited chatter on the floor was dying down as the moment to Culprit City’s first ever broadcast drew closer. Station 7’s employees settled into a more professional manner, speaking when needed in sure tones. And then – he arrived. Barely on time. The man wore a leather trench coat, still flecked with raindrops. A trilby hat cast his spectacled eyes into shadow. All very mysterious. But as to who this man was: there was no mystery. The Announcer was known worldwide for his deep, dramatic and demanding voice. He was the God of all commentators. And Station 7 was honoured. The Announcer took his place in the prepared booth, removed his hat and straightened his spectacles on his particularly bulbous nose. He wet his lips with the glass of water which was at the ready, and looked to his set up of prompts and CCTV feedback. The Announcer nodded.

The countdown began. At zero, the title sequence rolled out to millions then continued on to a prepared montage of introductory information and a selection of interviews from both criminals and heroes. It was produced dramatically; all quick cuts, dark lighting and tense music. Finally, the broadcast cut to Culprit City’s advanced camera system. They scanned and swooped, bringing up the faces of various players and theatrical shots of the city. The perfect visuals for The Announcer, whose voice now boomed out across Culprit City from speakers atop the street lights, addressing the audience but heard also by the players:

“Ladies and gentleman, we invite you - the victims of years of criminal activity – to observe as justice is served. We promise you an entertaining watch. We seek your vengeance.” A lengthy pause began, filled by silence and the face currently on screen; a thug-like character, a criminal, lips pressed into a straight line and eyes staring with menace.

“Each of our players has had a chip implanted into their brain which runs off the electrical impulses. We can use this to track our players, and also determine which have died.

Our maintenance force of highly-trained and protected members of the Station 7 team will be accessing the Culprit City set to deal with bodies and any rule breaking… We are not lenient in our punishments. Quite the opposite.” an ominous and spontaneous chuckle escaped from The Announcer, but it only added to the performance.

“Our players have all been informed of the rules, but are going to be a little lost in this city, don’t you think? Well, that’s why we’ve hidden maps across the city. 100 in total. Getting hold of one of these would give a huge advantage.

Now, join me as we launch this innovative way of presenting righteousness to those who deserve it . Inspired by the graphic novel by Jia Jiu… This is Culprit City.”

The screen went black.
Five seconds passed.
A countdown clock appeared on the screen.
3… 2… 1…

The klaxon sounded.



TASKS:
♦ Attempt to find a map.
♦ Get hold of a weapon of sorts.
♦ Find a base, somewhere for your character/s to reside. Perhaps alone, perhaps with allies. Find your territory.
♦ Interact with at least one other played character.

---

The roar of the sirens was enough to jolt Edwards out of his half day dreaming state. He sputtered and starred at his surroundings for a few brisk seconds before reality grabbed him by the helm, threw him against the wall and set his head right. Shaking away the dreariness he looked around himself, scouting out the area and seeing if anyone else was near him. It didn't seem it. Not in the immediate area at least. For that he was thankful.

Hunkered away under the signs of a store Edwards crept slowly with his back towards the wall near the alley closest to him. Peeking around the corner he heard voices among the pitter patter that grew softer. Daring to look further in he only caught a glimpse of two men in black running across the street the alley joined. Still wary he rounded the corner and scouted again. This time there was no one.

“Thank god.” He whispered to himself hawking up the top of his pants. “Couldn't have waited a second longer.” He continued as the belt came loose and the pants drooped letting him drain the proverbial lizard. It had been a long time waiting and it always brought out the worst in him. Standing amid the rain in an alley with a thousand people willing to kill him Edwards had only one thought. “What a great TV-star I am; pissing the minute the show started.” He smiled and finished up.

The deed done and ready for action Edwards set out towards the streets again. He was as cautious as he could be, looking from left to right then back again scouting for any movement. He'd been trained how to spot people and oddities with his time in the military, and though he was admirably good at it the rain made the task difficult. As a flash of lightning lit up the sky Edwards ran. Across the street and down towards what seemed to be factories. As grand as the idea of heading into the stores he was at now they looked, for the most part, like a facade. The department store down 3rd was a safe bet for finding a weapon, but everyone else would have the same idea. The factories though, there you could hide and plot and undoubtedly find something lethal.

Across 3rd safely and at the foot of a towering steel factory surrounded by fences Edwards had a decision. Rather than skirting around the edge looking for a door into the facilities he could climb the fence. That though would make more noise attracting attention. It was all a game of safety and speed. Weighing the options Edwards chose the latter and managed to pull himself up and over the chain links. Rattling as he dropped to the other side he rushed to the edge of the building and waited. Hopefully the rain had masked his movements. If not at least he wasn't at a disadvantage yet.

Only the sound of the raindrops met Edwards ears as he sighed in relief. Perhaps he was being to serious given that he hadn't seen anyone yet.

Wrong.

Finding a door and checking inside Edwards saw no one and so entered the factory. Though he knew some others would have come here as well he hadn't anticipated a group of fifty or more. Luckily they all stood in a gaggle facing a small group of men. They seemed to be rallying the others, designing a plan to somehow win, despite the fact that the show would kill them regardless of their success. Caught by surprise Edwards let the door shut behind him a little too loudly. Seeing stairs immediately ahead of him he dashed up the first few as one of the men from the group sauntered over.

Overweight with a poorly done art portfolio on his face the man was too slow to catch Edwards as he hurried up those first few steps, and too dead to react as a drawstring was slipped around his neck, pulled tight and upwards. Simultaneously his knees were buckled from the rear dropping him to Edwards waist. Hiking up on the drawstring from his coat it sunk into his skin too far for any hands to grasp. Instead they reached outwards but as his killer dragged him backwards to maintain control the fat man soon began clutching with weak hands. It was over soon. The drawstring cutting off enough air to his peanut brain that he sat on the floor, twitching lightly. Edwards hurried up the stairs to look for a better weapon then string, but more importantly a way out.

Maps. She needed a map. The rain had been threatening to make her shiver, but with the cameras twisting and turning, buzzing in and out of focus all around, she decided that to do so would be to display weakness. So, she just stared ahead, trying to ignore the fact that she was soaked to the bones and cold. But it wasn’t just the cameras that she could feel watching her. Three criminals had been placed along the same path as her. Two women, one was very short and frail, the other looked as though she could put up a good fight. The other was male, he wasn’t particularly large, but still, she studied his stance and deduced that he was probably set for running straight at her. They faced a playing field, and what looked like a high school stood at the other end. Behind her was a low building. Above one of the doors was a neat, uniform sign reading “Medical Supplies”. She was breathing heavy, calculating her best move.

When the klaxon sounded, she reacted instantly, making for the door. It was only a few strides away. Instead of going through it, she hoisted herself up onto the barrier which ran along the slope leading up to it, then hooked a foot on top of the sign. Izzy pushed herself upwards, making a desperate grab. Her fingers closed around the guttering at the top of the building. It began to give as she tried to pull herself up, but with one final reach, she found grip on the concrete ledge of the roof and was able to haul herself onto it. Just in time, as a hand swiped at her boot as it shot up after her then out of sight.

She didn’t have time to look behind, but from the scrambling and footfalls she could hear, she knew that two of the three were in pursuit. Within a few minutes she was over the building and inside another which was located just behind. It was a small practice room. Her eyes scanned desperately, looking for something that she could use. Her ears told her that her pursuers were almost on her, scrambling down from atop the first building. Izzy was on her knees, trying to work the metal leg of the patient bed off. It came free with a loud, satisfying noise. A noise which the others would’ve heard. But just as she was about to make a break through the window and run, a folded piece of paper between the mattress and the bed frame caught her eye. She snatched it. Opened it. A map. Before she had time to study it, she heard two sets of feet stomping towards her position which she had just revealed. Speedily, she hid herself against the wall space next to the door and struck as her first pursuer stepped into the room. To her surprise, it was the smallest criminal, the one she’d identified as not a threat, who fell beneath the well-aimed strike with the metal pole and dropped to the floor, most likely unconscious. In her wake was the male. He’d managed to get hold of some sort of brick or broken paving stone, so she backed up, not fancying her chances, and smashed the window to make an escape route.

She’d been running for a few minutes when she came level with the high school. So far she’d only passed criminals, she was scouring for those green bands. Across the road loomed what looked like factories. Still being followed, she made for those, thinking she’d be able to lose them in the buildings and have time to study the map then make for the armoury. But, as she clawed her hands into the linked fence and propped up a leg to climb, another band of criminals turned the corner. Her original pursuer, called to them in a horrifically loud voice which sounded like thunder in the quiet city: “She’s got a map!” he screamed, pointing directly at her. Izzy froze momentarily.

She let go and dropped back to the ground with a thump. It seemed that her best chance would be to study the map as she ran, and simply hope that she could outpace them. They were already fast approaching. With a curse, she closed her fist around the map and prepared to run.

---

The near half a hundred criminals that Edwards had spotted hadn't spotted him. As he climbed the stairs upwards and rounded the corner he heard shouts from them decreeing that a hero was nearby. Smart enough to not just run up the stairs and hope they overlooked him Edwards and flung open the door knowing it would slam against the side of the building and draw some of them at least outside. Whatever they said soldiers were, they couldn't say he was a stupid one.

The second level of the warehouse wasn't near as large as the base floor. Comprised of almost only offices and a small staff area as well as washrooms Edwards doubted he could find anything worthwhile here. He'd thought that a steel pipe or crowbar might do him good, but both would have been on the ground floor. His eyes did however pick up on something. Accustomed to working in places were keys were kept in a lock box, the cream coloured steel was like a beacon in the dark to him. Grinning from ear to ear he ripped it from the wall then smashed it against the nearest desk until the corners began to peel away. Fitting in his fingers he widened the gap and shook out the keys.

Careful not to jingle them he worked his way back down to the main floor. Only three criminals decided to stay in from the rain. Quietly slipping around them from afar Edwards looked over the keys. Numbered from one to eight he knew they must have operated some kind of machinery, but not which in particular. The factory so far as he could tell was a steel shaping one. Large presses sat in rows and overhead cranes had flat round attachments, obviously magnets to grip steel. It was quite a charade they'd put on for the show. As he wound through and around the stationary machinery Edwards laid eyes upon his bounty. All eight of them beauties of nature.

Jumping on the largest one nearest the front of the herd he slipped in the number three key matching it to the fat red three painted on the yellow beast. Turning it the machine whirled over as diesel was sucked into the engine. Beside the steering wheel and levers was a plate that at a quick glance told Edwards this forklift, lift truck, or Big Yellow Monster, was the strongest he'd ever seen. The front forks extended out at least five feet but disappeared under a pallet. Layered on it were steel sheets. Oh the fun Edwards would have.

Running the machine around the factory floor he found a large door leading outside. Jumping down he went over to the three button opener and pressed the green one. As the electric motor wound on the chain and opened the door Edwards drove out. To hell with shooting people, he was going to run them over.

No one was in sight as he exited the door, but out of the corner of his eye he caught a group of men, likely the many he'd escape chasing after a woman. On the other side of the fence another chased her as well. All of them shouted and none of them thought to see a Big Yellow Monster coming out of the factory. Matting the peddle to the floor Edwards sped, a relative term as the lift wasn't particularly fast, towards the group of criminals. More than twenty thousand pounds of steel bore down on them, a pallet of slippery guillotines ahead of it ready to cut them to shreds.

Escaping from the two dozen or so criminals that had congregated on the other side of the road beside the high school seemed difficult enough. But to Izzy’s dismay, thirty, forty, fifty? more red-banders emerged from one of the factories. There was a moment of stillness as they sized her up. Then she fled.

All of the cameras in the area swiveled to focus on Izzy.

She’d dropped the metal bar in order to run as fast as she could. The sound of it hitting the concrete was what started the surge.

Her feet pummeled the hard, slick ground, splashing. Those long, sure strides had always served her well. But Izzy was well aware of how slim her chances were. Out of the mob that was now onto her, it was likely quite a few of them would be able to catch up.

She raced north, not daring to look back, then began to unscrew the map which had been clenched in her fist.

Amidst the excited roars of the criminals who were so close to tasting their first blood for years, no one heard the revving of an engine. Their death idled, unnoticed, in the form of a ginormous truck.

---

Jared tried to smile in a friendly way. It didn’t work.

As the woman listed off what she was looking for, he just blinked dumbly. To be honest, he wasn’t used to listening to what women said. Her voice was a bit too high for what he’d usually pay attention to. She seemed rational enough, a trait which he wouldn’t usually apply to anything with tits. But, hey, he had nothing better to be doing.

So, Jared took her suggestion – not did what he was told, of course, he didn’t take orders from anyone – and started to grab packaged cables and rip out wires from appliances. After he’d gathered a fist full, he remembered the sledge hammer and scooped it up off the floor, dumping his glassy makeshift weapon in its place. Her words had indeed gone over his head, so he was just snatching all that he could.

Plan? Exposition?
Bitch must be insane.
Still, he was all up for being involved. And in being off-camera with her, whatever that meant.

He might’ve been dumb, but he had just about enough intelligence to string together that she was probably making a weapon to electrocute the shit out of people. And, yes, he was most definitely up for being involved in that.

“Jared” He introduced himself. “You some kinda mad scientist? How you do that?” He nodded to the bodies whilst he collected.

---

Even without a green armband in sight Edwards wasn't stupid enough to think that Izzy was a criminal. She wasn't the only woman out there running anyway so any misconstrued opinion of her being a great lay were out the window. The situation was far more grave than that and Edwards was at this moment a great equalizer.

Too slow to notice what he was doing with the lift truck and too enthralled by the hunt of Izzy most of the fifty or so that Edwards had seen earlier only shouted briefly when the truck was feet from them and came to a skidding halt. The massive tires gripped the asphalt bringing it to a stop within feet. The pallet of steel though felt the full force of the momentum sending the hundred pound sheets sliding off towards the legs of the criminals. Those it didn't split in two were crushed by the weight, and those who'd avoided it altogether were struck by the heavy steel tank that was Edwards on a forklift.

Safe in the cab of the truck he wasn't concerned with anyone reaching him, and as he maintained a momentum strong enough to throw anyone away he crashed through the fence. The hero had already run past him and the one criminal that had been on the far side was gone with her. The other fifty or so Edwards looked over. The cameras did the same as the groaned and shouted for help. About forty of the criminals had been injured or killed. Of those alive most wouldn't survive more than a few hours, and the rest wouldn't be able to move on their own. Effectively all of them were out of the show.

A few escaped but Edwards wasn't worried. He shut down the machine and took out the key halfway then snapped it. He did the same to the other seven scattering the broken pieces in the bloody mess of corpses. Now to find that Hero so he'd have a hand in this twisted show.

"Third Street and Westway Avenue. Fastest route," Phantom whispered, his voice still deep. He closed the map and began heading towards the intersection. It wasn't long until he heard a noise that sounded like a rock bouncing off pavement. He looked down and saw a hole the size of a pebble in the ground.

"Shit."

Phantom dove forward without pause and heard the same noise behind him. He got up quickly and ran at full speed, his wound burning as he did so. He spotted a street light not too far ahead of him and headed towards it. The pavement in front of him exploded as a bullet buried itself deep within it. He got to the street light and took cover as another bullet chewed through the steel of the light, barely missing Phantom. His guess was that a criminal retrieved a sniper rifle from a dead Hero and spotted Phantom. The criminal wasn't good with the rifle so Phantom is his target practice. Phantom breathed in before sticking his head out. His eyes scanned the assorted stores in front of him, quickly examining all the windows and rooftops so th-

Phtang!

Phantom saw the muzzle flash of the rifle right as it shot and right as he retracted his head back into cover. The bullet caused the pole to vibrate; Phantom slid out both his flocks and cocked back both chambers. Another bullet rang out and when he heard it land he stuck his head out, aimed down at the window of a small discount store, and squeezed both triggers, the jolt of both pistols rocking his body as he emptied ten rounds into the window.

He then moved away from the street light and sprinted towards the intersection, leaving the sniper behind him. He didn't stop until he saw bodies upon bodies of what seemed like dozens of criminals in front of some of the factories in Westway Avenue. He saw what seemed like a lift truck and a man with a green armband stepping out from it. Phantom crossed the bodies of the deceased and some mortally injured and stopped in front of the man.

"You seem like you got this situation handled to a tee," Phantom joked, laughing a bit before coughing from his wound.

"The name's Phantom. And as you could already tell I'm going to need some help."

Hieronymus sat in the hideout he had made of the high school's chemistry lab. This entire floor was dedicated to harder sciences, for some reason, so the materials he could use best were in this floor. He looked around the room, and thought back. Things had become chaotic sooner, rather than later. There was a building on fire, lots of screams, and gunshots already. The chemistry lab had a good amount of materials, and Hieronymus brought more equipment from other areas of the high school. A few computers and cables, a crowbar, wrench, and other tools, along with a few fire extinguishers.

Hieronymus sat back, and stared at the ceiling. He had managed to use a a few laser sensors he had gotten from the physics lab to produce make-shift motion sensors. These would serve to help him greatly. And even better, he had found ear-buds that he took apart, and rebuilt with a few additional pieces of plastic and circuitry to produce an earpiece in one ear that could play a sound to alert him of whether his motion sensors sensed something come by. So far, only other criminals came by, and they paid him little mind, and he paid them little mind.

Hieronymus had run to the high school when the blare rang out through the city. That was where he estimated would be where he could make the most usable devices. Before he came here, though, he stole a suit, hat, and coat from a locker in the city after he broke it open. He jsut didn't feel comfortable in anything else, and it was chilly anyway. He found these clothes easier to move in, for some reason. Whatever the case, he now had a change of clothes, if that was necessary. The hat was a nice addition for the rain, though.

When he had first come here, he had looked from his vantage point at the mess that happened in front of the Hospital nearby. He couldn't see much from the hospital blocking much of his view. After fortifying the base, he looked again, and saw how messy the front of the hospital had become. What really got his attention was the pink-haired woman hiding in the bush. She picked it, and used it to poison a villain. He would think about forming an alliance with such a person, but that was probably not the best course of action, considering the green armband she wore. Whatever the case, he saw the pink-haired woman enter the hospital, and thought it best not to go there, just in case of poison. Speaking of that...

There was one other tool Hieronymus had with him. It was a nail-gun found in the school, and he had found it with about 100 nails. While not exactly a weapon, it was usable. The best thing he could do with it, though, was to take some of the chemicals he had available to him in the chemistry lab, and make a tranquilizing agent to coat the nails with. that was when Hieronymus's stomach growled.

He forgot to bring food.

Looking out the window, again, at 3rd Avenue, he loaded the nail-gun with the tranquilizer nails, and brought with him 3 vials of acid, and 3 vials of explosives. This should be a good help. Hiding them all beneath his coat, he turned to exit the door as he heard the motion sensor go off. He remained next to the closed door and waited for someone to burst in. He heard hushed voices for about a second before the door was kicked open, and 2 men entered the room. There was a quieter way to deal with this. Maybe everyone around this place only heard someone kick open a door. As the door swung to his side, Hieronymus slowly shut it as the 2 men, both with green armbands, began to observe the room, and the equipment in it.

Before both realized that this was not their domain, they heard the door shut behind them, barely audible, and the man standing there, in a suit, having been the one to shut the door. It took a short time for one of the two men to raise their pistol to fire, and that was all Hieronymus needed. He had grabbed the top of the pistol as he saw the man's finger begin to pull the trigger. Before he could pull it all the way, Hieronymus had pulled the top of the pistol off. The armed man look at his weapon incredulously, before Hieronymus kicked his face with enough force to knock him into his partner, who stood there unsure of what to do when he saw the pistol taken apart. The two men fell, and Hieronymus reached for his nail-gun, and fired two rounds, one for each of them. Within seconds, they had passed out. That was when Hieronymus visibly frowned. He didn't want to kill these two, since the smell would be horrific, at some point, in his hideout. He didn't want to waste time either. So he did the next best thing. That pink-haired woman seemed to know her medicine. On one hand, this may draw her to him. On the other, this was a good way to get rid of these two, and make sure they lived. After all, if the game ended when all the criminals died, there was no need for a single hero to die. And this base of his was only a temporary solution, and he would be out of here soon anyway, once he built what he needed. There was not much chance of these two finding him again. The solution was simple. He tied a rope to their ankles, and the other end of the rope to the eye-washing station, as he lowered both of the men to the ground in view of the hospital. The process was done haphazardly quickly, and when the two had reached the ground, Hieronymus burned the rope with a Bunsen burner before grabbing the limp end connected to the two men and dousing it in the eye-wash station, getting rid of the fire, and then doing the same for the other end. Fire was dangerous, and he didn't want to catch the room, or the two heroes down there with fire.

That was when Hieronymus left the room, and mentally kicked himself for forgetting to check the two men for food. And thus began the journey for a sandwich.

Their cheerful chase soon turned into a messy massacre. Izzy was the first to note the change and veered for safety. With no idea whether the driver of the death machine was a hero or some kind of crazed criminal, whilst her pursuers were distracted… or dead, she’d leapt up onto the sidewalk and slammed through a door which led into the high school.

Once inside, she turned a full circle then returned to the door which had closed on its own to peer through the small glass slip of window. Her chest was heaving from the sprint. Izzy was shaken. She was by no means expecting this to be easy, but being the prey to a fifty-strong pack of criminals within the first half an hour was hardly going to sit well with anyone. Gunfire sounded nearby, joining the metallic cacophony of steel on concrete as the sheets which had shot loose from the forklift slid and shuddered to a halt after slicing through plenty of bodies.

She was squinting, trying to make out the man’s band on his arm as he turned off the engine. But it was no use. So, she took a little while to study the map. The armoury wasn’t far. It had already been proved to Izzy that she was too dependent upon her weapons. Her eyes scanned some more, noting places of interest. The armoury, vehicle storage, museum – she managed a snort at her idea of what sorts of things they’d have on display – and… a SafeSite building.

Something stirred in the dimness of the school corridor behind her and she screwed the map back up dropped into a crouch, back facing the corner of the door and the wall. After waiting about a minute, she straightened back up and glanced out of the window again. Another figure had joined the man who had probably saved her life. This time, she could make out the green armbands. Izzy made to open the door with a relieved sigh but something slammed her into it instead, so hard that it stole all of the breath from her lungs. Her lip had burst from the force as her face crashed against the door, she was flipped around bodily, unable to do much in the confusion, and found herself looking ironically at the man who had been after her since the get-go at the hospital. He hadn’t a weapon but his hands were doing a pretty good job of strangling her. She clawed at his hands and wrist.

There wasn’t much of a struggle before her knee found its way into his crotch. He didn’t let go but his grip loosened as he wheezed and Izzy was able to yank free and apply some unkind pressure to his awkwardly positioned wrist. A yelp indicated that it had the effect she was after. The tables turned and the choke-out that ensued was chaotic. She weighed less than him, and he was taller, even if she’d been practically hanging off his neck or squeezing with all the force she had, he’d have probably still been able to throw her off. Which he did. There was quiet in the corridor as they both drew in haggard breaths. Then he began to stumble away. Izzy was not reckless enough to go after him, so pulled open the door and escaped onto Westway.

She made for the two heroes, trying to wipe up the mess of her face with a sleeve as she did. If Izzy had been feeling sorry for herself, she stopped when she took in the riddled man with the mask.

“Shit, Batman.” Her words came out muffled by sore lips, but the desired, half-sarcastic half-shocked tone was recognisable.

Perhaps now wasn’t the best time to outline her plan to them. She eyed the other hero. For practical reasons, they should really take Batman’s handguns, stock up at the armoury, then head to the SafeSite and clean out any scum which had thought to lay claim to it. But they were the good guys, right?

“I really had that under control.” She said in a way of thanks.
“Uh, hospital?” It came out ‘hoshpipul’.
A mashed up mouth and a South African accent didn't make the best match for communicating effectively.

---

The keys all scattered across the ground Edwards stepped down from his killing machine, careful to keep three points of contact as was habit for him. Before he stepped on the ground he heard footsteps. Suspecting one of the criminals that had escaped thought it would be wise to attack him now Edwards circled around to the rear of the lift and then to the left only to be met by a masked crusader.

“Well shit.” He muttered quietly. Not only had he turned the wrong corner, but the man wasn't an enemy either. It looked like Edwards luck was turning around. The more green bands around the better after all.

It was obvious Phantom was injured. Despite the weather and dark clothing the unmistakable appearance of blood shown through and dripped down onto the asphalt. Still capable enough to make jokes and throw out a smart ass introduction Edwards wasn't too concerned about him. He'd gotten this far on his own, he could manage a bit further with some help.

“I'm Edwards, that's it. The fuck happened to you anyway?”

Before the Phantom had answered Edwards caught movement in his eye. Another green armband. Hallelujah. It was the woman who he'd indirectly saved by plowing through a mountain of flesh. Not that he'd meant to save her to begin with as in hindsight his slamming of the door likely drew the men outside and after her.

Laughing at her comment Edwards looked them both over. With only a few scrapes and a little bit of soreness from his earlier scuffle with the man with the Louvre on his face he'd come out on top so far. Phantom didn't look good and luckily Izzy was just banged up.

“Yeah the hospitals our best bet right now. What have you got for weapons? Bertha's out of commission now.”

Pointing a crooked thumb behind himself to the big yellow monster Edwards nodded towards the holsters Phantom had.

“Mind sharing?”

Phantom was about to answer Edwards right when a green armband appeared. This time it was a woman and she seemed to be pretty injured herself. Despite her injuries being lighter than that of Phantom's, he nodded when she tried to say hospital. It's safe to say that the two can be of use to him, especially now due to his wound. Phantom felt his muscles lighten, the feeling of desensitization hitting him quite hard. The blood loss from his wound is becoming a very apparent issue that needed fixing.

"I agree. The hospital is our best bet, especially now that you're here," Phantom said, motioning towards the woman, "Because we have got to fix that pretty face of yours."

Phantom looked back towards Edwards to answer his new question.

"Yeah, of course, we need to work together now more than ever," he said as his left hand extended the glock to Edwards. Phantom went to unclip his holster t-

A sudden and sharp pain lashed across Phantom's head as a bullet slid across the right side of his head. The material of the mask ripped into his skin as blood crawled out. He could tell that the wound on his head wouldn't be serious like his abdomen, but it would not matter since the force made him lose his balance, causing him to fall forward to the floor. He stopped himself from crashing into the street face first by using his left arm for cushioning. Phantom knew what had happened, it was the sniper friend from before, except he had become a better shot. Phantom couldn't tell where the other two of his fellow Hero companions went, but he didn't focus on that, instead he used his left arm to push himself upwards, sprawling over.

This time the sniper was positioned up on a rooftop of another store, Phantom was sure of it because of another muzzle flash, the bullet whizzed past Phantom's head and crackled across the street. He wasted no time flicking up his pistol with his right hand, breathing deeply, before letting go a stream of concentrated bullets that pierced through the rain. He kept shooting until the clip slid out empty from his pistol, smoke protruding from the muzzle.

Phantom felt his rigid breaths through the thick rain, those the only two sounds that he heard. The muzzle flash was gone. The sniper was either dead or going to be. Either result would be fine by him. Phantom stood up slowly, his body quaking from both wounds, blood covering him. He needed to close his wounds soon or else Death would find him.

Phantom felt everything and nothing as his mind began to race and so did he, as he started to walk towards the hospital. He didn't know where the other two went or didn't know if they were even behind him. All he knew now was that he needed medical attention. And a goddamn drink.

He chewed her experience over whilst he harvested the electronics section. CIA… What was Jared to say? ‘Fucked up some rivals, y’know, we usually outnumbered them but I got in a few good beatings. You wouldn’t believe how hard I was in my prime. I’m all about that illegal gun life, me. It’s always more fun when you’re off your face on something though. Hm… wish I’d saved some more whiskey.’

Jared was dumping the cables over the handle of the shopping cart for Anya to check. She had a working knowledge of electronics and hardware? Well, fuck him silly, from what he remembered of women, they could hardly work a television remote.

He could hear the chaos begin outside and started whistling in an attempt to cover the sound of people dying. Not that he was bothered that much, but the lady might have a weak stomach, and he was so thoughtful, of course.

The girl’s footsteps were heard by Jared, and probably Anya, before her small voice noted them officially of her presence. He regarded her with some amusement after turning towards her in a defensive stance, seeing the red armband and how useless she seemed, then relaxing. She looked like she belonged in some tween pageant, not fighting for her life… well, fighting to prologue her life a little bit for the entertainment purposes.

Think she’s adorable, audience? Well… not for long.

He looked to Anya and raised his eyebrows. Whilst the girl changed, he folded his arms in a manner that seemed far too casual for the current situation. “Wanna start making bets on how long they’re gonna last?” He asked her, grinning cruelly.

When she returned having donned something that’d make her stand out from the rest of the crowd and therefore make her more of a target and offered them her apartment, Jared remained silent and let Anya do the talking. He hadn’t a clue what she had planned, really, so didn’t know if an apartment was suitable enough. Either way, if this girl though that by offering up her base, she was getting a couple of bodyguards. She was wrong.

---

Collaborative post by Lialore and Leli

Izzy pushed up the bloodied sleeves of her jacket and nodded along whilst she listened. She then pulled a not-so pretty, incredulous face at Batman’s comment. Clearly the blood loss was getting to him. Or if that’s how smooth he was usually, she was certain she’d want to unpretty his face after spending enough time with him. If he had one, of course. She amused herself for a while with the thoughts of what might actually be underneath the mask.

She was about to quite rudely demand the other handgun upon his reveal of them both. After all, he was nearly out of service and she was a damn good shot. But they were interrupted by the bullet fired from up above.

Izzy made a break for cover behind Bertha.

The crack of gunfire was unmistakable. The ricochet from the ground only affirmed the severity as Phantom doubled over. Reacting faster than he could think Edwards made a blitz for the lift truck, spinning around the rear of it and hunkering down. Shortly after Izzy joined him. At least her instincts were good. Looking left and right Edwards didn't see Phantom anywhere. Then he heard it. The pistol emptied its rounds at the sniper.

“What the fuck are you doing? You can't hit a sniper with a fucking pistol!”

Shouting from the safety of Bertha Edwards kept an eye out for the masked man. He saw him walking away, slow and disorientated from the firefight. Cursing, Edwards knew they stood no chance if the sniper was going to just pick them all off. Where in the hell did they even get a rifle to begin with? Desperate for an escape Edwards looked to Izzy.

“We're fucked if we stay here, we have to move.”

Scanning the area quick as he could Edwards saw where Phantom was going, but doubted all three of them would make it into the entrance before someone was picked off. Best case scenario Phantom was picked off. He was in the worst shape of all of them and seemed the most likely to die regardless of a bullet in his brain. Edwards had fought with the military, but he wasn't a medic, he was a basic soldier that plugged the holes and shouted for help. He didn't know how he would even begin to help Phantom, and frankly, self dressing a wound wasn't like in the stories about the badasses. It was sloppy, normally poorly done and led to them dying a few days later instead of then and there.

With the sound of shooting still ringing in her ears, Izzy propped herself up some. Her gaze swept the empty rooftops before moving to Phantom's retreating back. A little while passed.

"Looks like he got him..." She spoke, hushed. It was undeniable that people would have heard the firefight. Whilst some would be deterred, others would be on the hunt. He was right. They had to move. Whether Phantom had struck his target was unknown. Any minute now the fire could resume. Izzy didn't fancy their chances, but others would be on their way soon enough, drawn in by the sound. Whilst the sniper's aim was fairly accurate, judging on how close he'd come to tearing Phantom's brains through, she thought that the nastier way to go was by whatever was going to happen to them when the inevitable criminals arrived.

Watching Phantom limp away left her with an incredible feeling of guilt. She hated to admit it but she didn't think he was going to make it. Not in that state: weak. But, what would going after him achieve? They were weaponless too. He was just unneeded weight, already half way to death. There was no need for Izzy and Edwards to go the same way. Besides, maybe he'd prove her wrong and survive. Their next meeting could be an interesting one.

"No hospital." She said. "We're not armed and we'll just run into something nasty."
With a grimace thanks to the pain in her shoulders from being slammed up in the high school, she produced the map from a pocket and handed it over to the other hero for him to take a quick look.

Izzy pointed out her plan with a bloody finger on the map, which was distorted from her rough handling of it.
"Armoury then SafeSite. Criminals might want to brutally murder us, but the weather wouldn't say no to the opportunity either." As if in agreement, thunder rolled in the distance.

"Name's Izzy, by the way... Officer November if you're feeling professional."

"Edwards."

Eyeing the map that Izzy presented Edwards couldn't help but agree with her logic. He shot one last look to Phantom and struggled. Slamming his hand against Bertha he crumbled under the morality of the issue. Finally, exasperated, he looked back to Phantom.

"God fucking damnit I can't."

Caught between trying to convince himself to abandon the man and to save him Edwards could feel the vice clamping on his head. Then it broke and instinct took over. He and her against another fifty criminals wouldn't fare well. The three of them wouldn't have been much of an improvement either, assuming Phantom could keep up.

"We've gotta help his broken ass. Get some first aid supplies and cut through the hospital to the parking garages. Even if there aren't any cars there it's a hell of a lot better than us running towards a sniper."

The sound of his hand hitting the metallic covering of Bertha made Izzy jump, since she was waiting for that gunfire. Her eyes narrowed as he made his little epiphany. She'd have been perfectly happy to jet off to the armoury and leave Batman to his fate. But no, the big, burly man had to go all zen on her.

She sighed and snatched the map from Edwards then gave him an incredulous glare. Outvoted, Izzy straightened up and shoved the piece of paper back into her pocket. Still, she'd rather not go it alone.

"Pussy" she said, only half joking.

The first step was the scariest. Her head was tilted upwards, straining for the slightest sign of movement. But there was nothing. When she leveled her gaze, however, she caught glimpse of a figure moving in the doorway of the high school that she'd just escaped from. Joy, her persistent little fucker of a stalker.

Looks like that bastards going to be on to me for a while.

Five steps away from Bertha and no sign of the sniper. Looked like that crazy Phantom really had put a stop to him, for the meantime, at least. She quickened her pace and went after Batman, Edwards hopefully in her wake. Izzy felt that the countdown had started. If they didn't move fast, they'd be caught by something sinister which was approaching, drawn in by the firefight.

Gigi was absolutely delighted. She spent quite a bit of her time memorizing the map and when she was satisfied that she had it ingrained in her memory, she burned it. It was only after she burned it that she heard the sound. It was quiet at first but as she got closer to the wall it grew louder and louder. She gently tapped on the wall, it was hollow. Giselle picked up an IV stand and slammed it into the wall as hard as she could. It broke easily and out poured what appeared to be an entire colony of beetles. She bent down, picked one up between her gloved fingers and examined it. "Oh aren't I the lucky one!" They were dermestid beetles, flesh eaters. She had a tank full of them at home to help her get rid of the unworthy souls that came to her door and now it seemed like she would have some here as well.

Giselle ran around the hospital collecting buckets, cups, bedpans, anything she could use to keep the beetles from running away. She saw an empty fish tank on wheels in the lounge and thought it was perfect. As she was wheeling the tank back to the office she happened to look out the front windows and see two gentlemen lying there, unconscious. Gigi gasped and opened the door. She dragged them inside, but not before she checked their armbands to make sure they were worthy, and lay each one out on a stretcher. "I'll return shortly gentlemen, just give me a moment. I have some unfinished business to attend to." They were both unconscious and although they had both been shot with, something, it didn't look like the wounds would kill them anytime soon.

Gigi wheeled the empty fish tank into the office and gathered up as many of the beetles as she could into it. She stood back and stared at the tank. "You little darlings are going to give some nasty criminal quite a surprise aren't you?" She nodded at them and made her way back to the front to deal with her first patients. She gave them both x-rays to figure out just what the hell had shot them and found nails in both of their abdomens. She removed the nails, cleaned the wounds, and bandaged them then left them to heal. She had some questions for them when they woke up but for now she was going to have a look out on Westway Avenue. She had heard shots being fired and she wondered if the hero woman from before was still out there.

The emergency ward was on the east side of the building so she didn't have to go far to see what had gone on. In the distance she saw the woman from before, looking damaged, and a man standing near a fearsome looking machine. She assumed that since the woman wasn't dead yet that he was a hero but there was another masked figure looking even more injured than the woman making his way towards her and even though he wore a green band she still found herself questioning his status as a hero. He was scary looking but the band didn't lie so against her instinct she called to him. "It looks to me like you could use some help, I'll go get a stretcher and a room ready." She pointed to the green band on her arm before running inside. Before she could even begin to prepare anything she ran back to the window "Don't eat any of the berries on the front desk."

She ran inside and did her best to straighten up a room for him. She decided to put him next to her other fallen heroes, it was the closest to the front so he wouldn't have to go far for treatment and it meant she could hear one of them when she was dealing with the other. When the room was prepped and ready she organized a stretcher and IV for him. It was dark and rainy so she couldn't see exactly what was wrong outside the window but she could tell by the way he walked that he was a man in need of medical attention. When everything was ready she made her way outside to help him in.

The world began to shake, the buildings ripping apart, the ground blurry. His feet scrambled across the thick concrete, but soon the ground melted, its fixture liquefied and his feet sank into it. His sweat stuck onto his clothing as blood trickled down the entirety of his body. He looked up and saw Death standing far down the road, past the hospital, a scythe in hand. Death's free hand creaked, bones rattling as he lifted it up in the air and stretched his index finger, pointing at Phantom.

"Not yet," Death groaned.

Phantom wheeled as thunder boomed, his head exploding in pain. He didn't know how far he had shambled until he reached the hospital. His sullen eyes darted at a figure, blurry, yet he could just barely make out a bright green band. He had no other choice but to trust it. He heard it speak, but it was vague and he couldn't make out any words. All he knew was that he needed help soon.

He kept walking towards the figure and saw it run back inside. He didn't question what it had said due to the fact that his head was booming and he tried not to think too much, or else the pain would have been much more severe. He kept walking until he reached the entrance and saw the figure again, this time it was in the form of a woman. He could tell that she would help.

And with that lingering thought of Death his strength gave way and he fell to one knee, his body shaking as it tried to hold balance to even that.

"I hope you have the strength to either carry me or drag me because I'm about to bl-"

Everything went black.

Hieronymus was lucky. He had found a criminal in the high school, and one who seemed to have had some food on him. After talking it out, the man agreed to give Hieronymus a bag with a sandwich in it, in exchange for 2 of Hieronymus's explosives. It was steep, but he could always make more. Besides, the acid was quieter, and could melt through walls. They made the exchange, and Hieronymus journeyed back to his base, and finished the what he was working on. It took only a few more minutes, but he had completed it.

The device in question was a PDA. Handheld, and light, he had made it by taking apart some of the computers that he had in his base. The hardest part was taking the screens apart with the correct measurements, since he had to be careful not to shatter them. Once the device was working, he looked at the sandwich, and sniffed it before taking a bite to eat. The plastic container looked unopened, but he could not be sure. After eating the whole thing in a few bites, Hieronymus looked out the window. The sandwich was poison-free, but that reminded him of the woman in the hospital. He heard a few nearby bangs a short while earlier, and he needed to see what had gone on. Looking out the window, he saw the pink-haired woman dragging the two men he dropped down into the hospital. Looks like they were going to be taken care of. Then there were the rest of the figures in the area. He had not taken the time to look at them closely, other than to determine that they were heroes. There were two men, one of which wore a mask, and the other who acted like a trained soldier. A trained soldier would be good to have as an ally, but this person would likely not be the one be that ally. Hieronymus thought about the soldiers that had entered Culprit City. Hieronymus had fought like a soldier for a long while, as a trader. He had no training, but he did fight people that did. He hasn't kept up with the way military training had changed ever since he came to a safe-city. That would mean that, even though he was a formidable opponent, some people would be able to defeat him in hand-to-hand. He had to learn the tricks, at some point.

Coming back to focus on the task, he also saw a woman. She was fit, and seemed to be working together with the man. Well, since these two were working together and there were 2 other heroes around the hospital, Hieronymus decided to stop playing with his luck, and decided to go out, looking for potential allies, or supplies, or something useful. He already had a lot of useful items, and the PDA would help him work with the electronic equipment he would build. Taking more explosive devices to replace the ones he had lost, Hieronymus left the room, and ran down the stairs to leave the high school by going to the department store on 3rd Avenue.

Hieronymus looked at the road ahead of him. Restaurants were probably the best bet for food. Department stores were probably where people who wanted to kill themselves went to. There were probably a lot of people there. Either other criminals he would need to fight over supplies, or heroes looking for a lot of targets to shoot. Whatever the case, he thought he needed food. And besides, cooking was similar to chemistry. There was sure to be something that he could take and use for more than eating. The sniper from earlier did not shoot Hieronymus as he ran across third avenue to make his way through Ali street. Hieronymus had a map, but had found little use for it until he realized he needed food. That was a major help as he made his way to the restaurants. Otherwise, he would not know where they were.

The sound of gunshots rang out, as he approached the side of one of the restaurants. Hieronymus ducked behind a dumpster, and saw a blonde hero, very heavily armed, fire and take out a crowd. Hieronymus practically licked his lips, at the thought of killing him and taking his weapons. Especially with how readily he killed a crowd. But, Hieronymus was too clear-headed to do this. Hunger came before killing. Hieronymus waited until he did not hear very much at all. The street was quiet, and as such, Hieronymus imagined the sizzling of steak, and the boiling of lobster. What snapped him out of his trance was the rapid patting of feet approaching the restaurant.

Without checking to see if it was friend or foe, Hieronymus decided to make his business brief. He stepped back, pushed a make-shift button on some of the acidic compound he had with him, as he threw the uncapped it and splashed it on the brick wall of the restaurant. The point Hieronymus splashed the acid on was slightly higher than his own head, but the acid was potent enough to melt the wall all the way to his feet. And, it was wide enough to get in, if Hieronymus turned to his side. After a few more splashes of the acid, the wall was completely melted through. Hieronymus got in and ran into the kitchen of the restaurant after putting the empty container back in his coat pocket. He drew the nail-gun as he saw that the kitchen had a hero in it. One who was also looking for food it seemed. She was a woman of average height, and who, interestingly, had shaved her head. Hieronymus stood behind her as she searched the fridge. She, being in the kitchen, probably couldn't have heard the slight sizzling of the restaurant wall. Hieronymus scratched the back of his head before putting the nail-gun back in his coat, and knocking out the woman by suffocation. That was when Hieronymus began to search the fridge himself. He had found some deli-meats, a bag of salad, and some cheese. Yum. He could mic them all to make a delicious salad. But first...

Hieronymus turned around. He could pack the food later. Now, he had to prepare for a confrontation with the source of those patting feet. Hieronymus hid behind the kitchen wall as he peered out at the front door, to see if anyone was entering.

Collaborative post by Lialore and Leli.

When Izzy moved so did Edwards. He ignored her comment and promised not to form too much of a chip on his shoulder with her. He was never good at keeping promises though. Still fearing the sniper might be waiting to down more than one hero at a time as was such a common tactic, Edwards sprinted towards the now fainted Phantom. Slipping the mans arm over his shoulders and letting his height and back bare most of the weight Edwards rushed into the hospital entrance with his soon to be corpse.

Izzy didn't do much to help in terms of getting Batman out of the street. Edwards had it covered. As they went, her hand had gone straight to her hip, an instinct proved wrong as the pistol which usually hung there was a world away. Walking with her back to her new allies, she swept the streets for any oncoming dangers as they made their way to the hospital.

On reaching the doorway, Izzy finally turned and put an arm out to stop Edwards. She'd seen the woman show them her green band as they'd raced for Phantom, but still, Izzy was suscpicious. Not only was her hair ridiculous, but, what was that she'd said about berries?

The front desk crossed the room they were about to enter. She located the berries quickly enough. Her eyes squinted and her brow furrowed as she tried to put a name to them. They didn't look too friendly. Although she'd been trained in survival skills years ago when flying in supplies around her homeland, where the risk of having to land and stay out the weather, stranded, was a serious, quite common one; she couldn't recall the name of the berries. Which meant they were most likely not meant for eating. Besides, she couldn't imagine the kind producers of Culprit City planting them a few lovely blueberry bushes to munch on.

"Probably poison..." she whispered her realisation.
The look she gave Edwards was one of pure 'what the fuck?'.

This woman must be off her rocker. But she seemed friendly enough and willing to help. If anything went wrong they'd be able to overpower her easily. So, Izzy dismissed the fact that she was probably crazy as a threat.

Edwards didn't trust the woman, even if she was offering help. He hadn't realized she was there under the hurry of his boots, but Izzy quickly dragged him back to the problem at hand. She wore green, but how hard was it to steal a piece of cloth? Pulling Phantom up higher onto his body Edwards managed to reach down to the holster that held the pistol he hadn't emptied at a sniper too far away to reasonably hit. Outstretching his arm he handed it towards Izzy.

“Two in the chest.”

He was autonomous in speech as though repeating a prayer he'd known since birth. As it stood he couldn't have hit the broad side of a barn with the heavy bastard he was carrying, Izzy was their best chance if anything went south. Even if it didn't he didn't expect the masked man to need the pistol. He was banged up good, no doubt about it, and all he was worth now was whatever rounds he had left on him. Once all of those were rounded up and a few medical supplies to boot Edwards was going to leave the man there regardless of if he was awake or not. He wouldn't last too long with the injuries anyway, his best bet was to hide until everything was over.

"One in the head" Izzy said, way too cheefully for the current situation as she practically snatched the handgun from him in her elation. With a twirl she set it comfortably in her hand, its shape a familiar friend. She also only realised the irony of her reply when she checked Phantom to see whether he'd woke. No such luck, his head was still lolling.

She sidestepped into the room cautiously. Empty. From what she could see.

"You want to babysit whilst I get supplies? If he's not awake by the time we're ready to go. We're leaving him" Izzy said. Her statement wasn't a question, or a suggestion.

She could've done with a stitch or two herself, if this woman knew what she was doing. Still, Izzy planed on not letting the candyflossed nurse anywhere near her.

"Deal. Head up through the streets for the armoury, stock up and fuck off to the SafeSite."

Giselle didn't trust the masked man but she brought him in anyways. Once she had gotten him into his room she turned to the other two he had come with. They had guns but she wasn't too concerned, spending all her time in the hospital had given her the time to set more than a few traps for them. She had strategically placed her own special weapons all over the hospital, so in case she couldn't beat them with brute force, which was highly unlikely that she could, she'd be able to use her surroundings to her advantage. Her pride and joy was a little treat she had set up in the cafeteria. It was where most people coming in would go after getting treatment and she couldn't have set up her little scheme without the help of her beetles.

She smiled at her handiwork though at the moment it looked like she was grinning at the unconscious man laying on the bed. Gigi shook her head and focused on the task at hand. Just as she was about to get started she remembered the other two were still there. She wasn't accustomed to having people watch while she worked and she quickly shooed them out. "Okay yes yes, thank you for bringing him here, you're friend will be fine now please leave. The doctor has to work and she needs silence." And just to throw them off a little she said "And if you don't mind bringing me that bowl of berries on the front desk that'd be great."

She got to work on the masked vigilante. She was tempted to remove his mask to get to the cut on his temple but that would violate her doctor-patient confidentiality code so she just did her best to fix the wound as it was. She cleaned it up and bandaged his head then moved on to the wound in his side. The gunshot had torn his flesh but it was nothing she couldn't fix. Giselle Demence hummed a cheery tune from her childhood as she worked. She was focused on the task at hand but she kept her ears open just in case anyone decided to wander around the hospital and find one of her...surprises.

Phantom had died before. So his near death experience now wasn't foreign to him. He had fought a druglord by the name of Alex de Masse. This short lived battle was also due to a miscalculation, a lapse in judgement that affected the entire outcome.

It happened at night, at a private marina owned by Alex. Although private, Alex let the general public rent out spaces for their boats, the only reason being to elude the police. But what the police couldn't do due to restrictions, Phantom could. He was perched up on a darkened lamppost, all which were dimmed, and that was because of Alex's routine every time he sold drugs. Alex would turn off all the lights at the dock as if to simulate it being closed and would then take a different yacht every time out in kill he darkness of the ocean where he would meet up with other yachts and sell drugs.

Phantom planned how he would take down Alex. Alex had upped the guards and security tech ever since Phantom had surfaced in Haven. He added more cameras, all equipped with infared tech, all able to see in total darkness. A couple extra bodies and cameras weren't going to do much to halt Phantom. All that was needed was an EMP and a tranquilizer. The first part of that plan was already executed, all cameras shut down, all boats shut down, no escape in sight. The second part of the plan was in progress, the first set of guards being the ones in charge of monitoring the cameras and video equipment were taken care of, while the other four are with Alex. Phantom contemplated exactly what he was going to do before enacting it on Alex. He decided that he would kill Alex. It wasn't a matter of what was right or what was wrong it was simply what was necessary. A man with this amount of power and money would only be released several days later. Power and corruption come hand in hand.

He can't corrupt the Phantom though.

Alex's feet clasped against the wooden boards of the boardwalk as he made way towards his yacht, his four goons following closely behind. It wasn't until Alex walked under Phantom's lamppost that he would strike. Phantom came down upon Alex, landing on him, bones snapping as Phantom shot three of the four guards with tranquilizer darts, this all happening in one fluid motion. The other guard slid out a pistol, but Phantom caught his hand as he tried raising it up. He then raised his elbow and brought it down; when it made contact the bone snapped in a ninety degree angle causing the guard to scream atop his lungs. Phantom aimed his tranquilizer at the guard's abdomen and fired off a dart that made the man keel over and black out. Alex took this small amount of distraction time to drag his already broken body towards his yacht, unknowing that its power was gone. As Phantom turned around he saw what his error was. He should have checked the actual yacht because Alex's buyer walked out, pistol in hand, and Phantom realized that Alex now had his buyers come to his marina rather than he go to meet them.

Phantom wasn't given a chance to react. It was all over the moment the pistol flared, a single bullet entering his left eye and everything ended.

He was dead. Or atleast he felt it, he was actually knocked unconscious. But in a precarious situation like that, there was little chance of survival.

His body went over the side and into the water, the last sound he would ever hear was that of gushing water that engulfed his body and wrapped it in darkness.

It was for only a few minutes that Phantom was unconscious, but in those few minutes the ocean healed him. His black out was mostly due to shock and of course blunt force caused by the bullet, but he was lucky enough that the bullet didn't even penetrate his skull, it instead lodged into his eye where it remained until after about a minute in the water. Soon after small scum eating fish detached themselves from the corroded wood on the boardwalk and latched onto his eye. Even the world's best doctors could have moments of losing all precision in key moments yet mother nature suffers no imperfection. The fishes began eating away the dead skin and sucked out all signs of infection and corrosion. That combined with the thick amount of sea salt stopped any sign of blood loss. As the fish nibbled away, the bullet dislodged and floated away into nothingness. In reality, anyone could recover from this sort of wound with the right care. There was still the matter of resuscitation else all that had happened would have been done in vain. The last two minutes spent in the water was near the shore, his body lolling in the waves until one carried him to the shore, shoving him face first onto the sand, water and sand mixing together, sliding into the pit of his stomach and the bottom of his lungs causing him to regurgitate hard. His right eye opened as he found himself hacking up chunks of the last meal he had eaten; his mask ripped off and taken by the current as it was nowhere to be found.

The wound wasn't completely healed, but the ocean had done a damn fine job at buying him time until he closed his eye by burning it shut. Death had almost had him that time yet he was able to avoid it entirely and in order to trade that off he would train for several months, letting crime happen in the safe-city of Haven until he was truly prepared to face it again, and when he was he fabricated another mask. When he was ready he would attack at Alex first, Death ready to receive Phantom's victim. Phantom invaded Alex's stronghold and was able to sneak past everyone until he reached Alex de Masse. As he opened up the door he found Death floating above Alex and lifted up a pistol. The bullet entered his forehead and exploded out the other side, blood plastering the walls in a new and fresh coat of red. Phantom wasted no time and walked towards the desk, taking aim, and let another bullet fly into his head to make sure he was dead. He heard men screaming as they rushed towards the room, but it was too late. Phantom crashed through the window behind Alex's corpse and jumped out, leaving the pistol behind. On the pistol was one of Alex's buyers fingerprints, as per a report by a corrupt police officer that only let Alex's gang know and burned any other evidence. Needless to say there was a war between Alex's gang and that of his buyers, which ended in bloodshed. Phantom made sure to only spectate all of this from the sidelines. He only intervened if an innocent's life was on the line. He survived through sheer luck and he believed it was because the world still needed him and people like him.

Death smiled as Phantom woke up from his slumber. Light phased in, his eye adjusting to it as he coughed and he saw pink hair. At first he was confused because he didn't recollect a pink haired woman, all he remembered was Edwards and that other woman with a busted lip. But, then it hit him, he remembered the blurry figure that pointed at their green armband and knew that he had to trust the woman. This must be her. And she must have saved him.

"God damn it, everything fucking hurts, but it still feels good to be alive," he said, his voice a bit frail but still deep.

He looked over to find Edwards and the other woman there.

"I died twice too many times already. If I die again make sure I don't wake up," Phantom said before chuckling, although faint, he still chuckled. He then looked back at the pink haired woman.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. The name's Phantom, but enough about me, tell me about you. Your name would be a good start."