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| The Dark Avenger | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sep 24 2008, 07:33 PM (140 Views) | |
| Batguy | Sep 24 2008, 07:33 PM Post #1 |
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Not too shabby
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The rain was heavy that night. The endless patter didn't bother him; he was used to sitting out in all weather. His suit was waterproof anyhow, and his mask allowed him to see through the wash and fog of the storm. It was nearing midnight; he'd been sitting there for hours, his only companion one of the gargoyles lining the cathedral roof, but his muscles were not stiff. They were only tense with anticipation, a tension that left one ready to move in an instant but was not tiring. It was the tension of a predator about to strike. Been tracking the bastard for days now, trying to find his secret stage. Always gave me the slip before, but not again. Finally figured out how he fills the seats, his pattern. I'll have to let them take the kids for this to work, but I'll finally catch him in his lair. You're mine, Jokester... He had his eyes on a small housing development just across the street. All of the children in the Jokester's shows were taken at night, and this particular neighborhood had yet to be hit. All he had to do was wait. A van pulled up, a pizza airbrushed on the side. Some late-night delivery place, he noted, a place he'd frequented himself as Bryce. It pulled up in front of a house that still had lights on, the driver opening an umbrella as he got out with the stack of pies and headed for the door. Someone else wouldn't have given this a second thought, especially when the door opened and someone began an exchange with the delivery man, paying for the pizza. Someone else wouldn't have noticed the other car rolling slowly down the alleyway behind the house, its lights off. Someone else wouldn't have noticed the men in dark gray and green, true night camouflage, sneaking from the car to a window and breaking in, leaving with a bundle the size of a child. Someone else wouldn't have known the child was gone from the house until the kidnappers were long gone. Not him. He was in the air as soon as the kidnappers were out of the car, gliding silently towards the yard and landing on the garage before the kidnappers were out of the house. He restrained himself from leaping down and beating them within an inch of their lives, knowing he needed them unaware of his presence if he was going to save all the children from the Jokester's trauma inducing show. The child, wrapped in a blanket and a waterproof parka, was still; he assumed the child was either a deep sleeper or drugged. Either way, he wasn't happy to not act. The car began to pull away, and he deftly threw out his arm, launching a tracer that attached itself to the bumper. A signal beeped in his ear, telling him it was a solid hit. Good. This is your last Hurrah, you psychotic comedian... |
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