CRASH

Everything that goes up must come down

He could feel his heart beating in his chest, the rhythmic pattern a tune he followed with each step as his shoes connected with the hard surface of the rooftop. Hidden eyes peered out from behind the mask, always watching, always waiting.

He would never say it out loud but it was the moments like this when he found the most peace. The moments right before the climax, when he was chasing down some psychotic mind bent on the destruction of all that was good in the world. It was the chase he loved and like a wolf he would carefully stalk down his prey reveling in the rush he got as each step brought him closer to the kill.

The other heroes said they did this job just because it was the right thing to do but he knew the truth; he knew what they were too scared to admit.

They loved the rush.

The feeling they got as their heart beat a hundred miles a minute and their sense heightened with adrenalin pumping through their veins. It was inviting, intoxicating it was a drug they loved and thirsted for. This rush was unlike anything anyone would ever experience. The feeling of knowing that you had such power in your hands; that you were god. Nothing could compare and each surge of energy only made you crave something stronger.

A cruel smirk played on his shadowed face as he caught sight of the panting man on the streets run towards the alley hoping to lose his predator. They always thought they could run away but he didn't mind. He liked the chase.

Still grinning, the masked man picked up his speed as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop always keeping his prey in his line of sight. The adrenalin was palpable as everything became sharper, clearer. He could hear the crook gasping for breath as he struggled to keep his pace. Every sense was multiplied and he felt invincible, impenetrable, a god amongst ants.

"Where do you think you're going?" His dark voice, a silky velvet, called out into the night taunting the running man. The man didn't turn but the masked figure knew that there was fear in his eyes. He knew that his attempts to escape were hopeless but still he tried.

Another leap as he jumped towards the ledge this time feeling nothing but air beneath his feet. Grunting, he caught on to the ridge desperately trying to pull himself up as his feet dangled beneath him. Gloved hands clawed at the edge his arm muscles straining beneath his costume as he pulled himself up. Heavy breath came out in harsh gasps but he couldn't waste any time pulling himself together.

The fall didn't make him falter. If anything, it only gave him more of a rush. Every bullet that just grazed him, every explosion he narrowly avoided was another surge of euphoria taking him to greater highs. It felt so damn good that he couldn't even explain it.

This was his vice.

His perversion.

His drug of choice.

Masked eyes turned towards the running man once more as his smile grew even wider and white teeth glinted in the moonlight almost like fangs.

Yet every high came with a crash and soon he would need another fix.

A/N: Any and all criticism would be appreciated. It's been a really long time since I've actually written a fanfic let alone anything having to do with creative writing. I know these first few chapters are going to be a bit rough as I get back into the swing of things so I'd love any feedback.

This is just going to be a series of one-shots inspired by an lj writing prompt. There are going to be random pairings/ scenes and things of that nature though most things aren't going to be connected.

As for this chapter…I know who I was writing about but I'll let the readers come up with their own theories.