Disclaimer: I do not own the marvelous franchise that is "The Crow."
Summary: A year has passed since the murders of a woman and her brother at the hands of a crime syndicate. The spirit of the Crow has resurrected her to enact vengeance, but she realizes that she can't do it alone. The new Crow will learn that she is not the only creature of the night to wander the City of Angels...
Rated M for language, death, and adult situations.
People once believed that when a person dies, a crow carries their soul to the Land of the Dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that the soul is left with an unbearable sadness and can't move on. And sometimes, just sometimes, the crow is able to bring the soul back to set things right.
This infamous myth, this supposed fairytale…I know it to be true, every single word of it. Believe what you want, but I am who I am and my beliefs are solely mine. Nothing can change that; that's one of the many lessons he taught me, albeit a bit ridiculous since I already knew. We were torn apart in the worst way possible – Death – but not for long. My journey is almost complete, and when it is, we will finally be together again. I promised to protect him always like an angel, and that is what I am. I am a dark angel brought back from the dead to seek my vengeance on the ones who ripped me from my body, who tore me away from the one I loved most, whom I needed most and vice versa, when I was alive. There are some who call me a monster, an abomination, a freak of nature, a killer. I am all of these things.
In this city there are no angels, no more angels in America, for they have abandoned all because they know that we are far from saving. But sometimes, if one looks hard enough and opens their mind, there are souls who can still be saved. In a way, I am the caretaker for these sad miserable souls who wander around aimlessly. I am not a superhero; I cannot and will not save them from everything. I am far from selfless; I will do whatever it takes to find the people responsible for my own problems; I will find the ones responsible for the deaths of myself and my love. While there are no angels left, there are some rather exquisite allies I have found, they can almost be called "angels" themselves – almost, but not quite. They understand the nature of power and further understand the need for quelling any and all targets who would dare to exploit them. They have their reasons and I have mine. A common goal for an uncommon group – my little brother, the smartest little bastard I have ever known, would have found this instance to be so dashingly poetic.
My body is burning up in excitement, and the adrenaline is coursing through my veins as I near the building where my target is housed. They are not going anywhere, not now that the building is surrounded by my "allies". If the enemy so much as sticks their head out the window then they are as good as dead. I cannot afford to take a risk, not now when I am so close to ending this dark journey of mine once and for all. I signal to the ally running alongside me and she signals in turn to the group ahead of us. There is an immediate explosion as the doors to the old church blast open. We have to be swift and quick—the rest of the group must die now—and the others waste no time in entering the church and taking out the mindless cattle. They scream in agony as they are torn apart and consumed, but that does nothing for me. They made their choices and I am not entitled to choose whether they live or die. Personally I would opt to kill all of them on sight, that would result in my status as a killer being intensified and my humanity extinguished. Normally it would not matter to me because my past was filled with death and suffering, all caused by my own hand, but this is different. This is my second chance to not only take my revenge, but to also redeem myself for the terrible things that I have done. I only kill those I need to, especially in matters such as self defense. Much like now.
One of the underlings approaches me wielding an automatic rifle and pulls the trigger, hoping to empty every bullet in the clip into my lifeless corpse. Well, he gets half of it right. The bullets pierce and enter my body, my blood is spraying across the walls and even all over his body as I inch closer…but I am not dead. Deathless, I am. He screams as I grab him by the throat and throw him against the ancient stone walls with literal bone shattering force, and I can hear the sickening wet snaps as several of his bones are broken. I toss him again and watch with satisfaction as his face contorts in agony at having his spine snap in three different places and his legs just flop around like wet noodles – no more walking, no more running, they're useless now. There is no running away from me. When I drop him he makes a pitiful, if not ridiculous, attempt to crawl away to safety, to which I kick him so that he is now laying on his back and press my boot to his throat.
"W-what…are…you?" He manages to choke out before I apply more pressure and twist my foot. His bloody gurgles are the last sounds to come out of his mouth, the last dredges of his life. He had been young, would have had a long life ahead of him if he had not stood on the wrong side of the line, but he made his choice. There isn't anything I can do about that.
He had asked what I am, although he's not the first to ask me that. Everyone I meet is oh-so-curious to learn even a bit about this stranger, yours truly, who can kill people in the blink of an eye. Who am I? Well, that is a very simple question that deserves a very simple answer.
I am Rave Halley.
And I am a Crow.
