(This story is a work of fan-fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the writer's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.)

(I do not own Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go! All rights belong to Disney and Ciro Nieli)

(I do not own The Crow franchise. All rights belong to IDW Publishing, Miramax, and James O'Barr)

Please, be sure to read, review, favorite, and then follow.

Hello, everyone. This month marks a very special time of our lives. For you see, it is the 25th Anniversary of The Crow, a comic book movie that was released back in 1994 on May 11th, starring the late Brandon Lee, who tragically died during the making of the film. And I feel that I should pay homage to not only Brandon Lee, but also to the The Crow franchise as well, in the form of a fan-fiction. But not just any fan-fiction, but a crossover with one of my favorite childhood cartoons, this being Super Robot Monkey Team Hyperforce Go! I am really excited to be posting this story and I cannot wait to see what you all think. If you do not know what The Crow is, I highly suggest you go look if up. It is really good, so dark, macabre, and very much full of emotion.

And so, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, cybernetic monkeys and otherwise, please, sit back, relax, grab some popcorn and soda, and enjoy the first chapter of The Crow: Vengeance Be Thy Name.

- Chapter One -

Pain

"The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?" – Edgar Allan Poe.

"Wake up, Chiro," a rich baritone voice whispered in the echoing darkness. "Wake up." He did not know how long he had been out. Nor how long time had passed on by. He could only guess that it was almost an hour or more at the most, give or take. Or so he believed anyway. He did not know what had led him to this very state, for the only thing that he found himself trapped in what he had perceived was a world completely layered in nothing but a swallowing black void of emptiness. It felt like he was floating in the middle of a dark abyss, an endless world with no sense of navigation, like he was drifting in a never-ceasing limbo.

And then, memories suddenly began to flash through his mind. Memories that he remembered and ones that he did not want to remember. He saw things that were pleasant, and happy, enough so to ease an aching soul with warmth and comfort. He also saw many horrible things. Terrible, abhorrent things. Things that he dearly wished he had never witnessed. He remembered being in the city park, where the warm sun blazed down on his skin, the soft green grass beneath his bare feet, and the clear blue water of the nearby lake brushing up against his bare toes in small waves.

Firstly, he remembered being surrounded by people; his friends, his family, his school mates... and even her. He deeply remembered everything that there was about her, about how her smile and her cute little laugh was enough to calm the running waves of emotion that had once dwelled within his being. He remembered the face of what had once been his father patting him on the shoulder with pride in his old eyes, eyes that seem to carry a sense of wisdom and knowledge if one were to take the time and look upon them, and a kind smile that read, "I'm proud of you, son." But then, a sudden white light flashed brightly in front of him, momentarily blinding his sight. When the light had quickly died down, horror filled his eyes as recognition of his new environment enveloped every single crevice of his brain.

He now found himself in what had appeared to be some kind of dark alleyway, the dank and musty air filled with the echoes of terrible laughter, four black-clad figures surrounding her bloodied and beaten body. Not again! God in Heaven, please don't let this happen again! He remembered falling to his knees, helplessness consuming every single fiber of his body, streams of tears pouring down from his blue eyes, his soul stricken with pain and grief. He was too late. He couldn't save her. His mind became overflown with many racing thoughts of the what-ifs and the what-might-have-beens. This has to be a dream! he thought. Please, let this all be a bad dream! As he looked up, the next thing he saw was a fifth shadowy figure, one that was now towering just above him, black-dotted eyes blazing yellow with death, and a large gap-toothed smile that had made a certain level of a chill run down his spine.

"Don't look, Chiro!" that same deep voice from earlier said, almost pleadingly. "Turn away! Don't look!"

The figure then pulled out from behind its back what he had perceived was a small-looking pistol, its stainless frame and cylinder lightly shining off from the light of a nearby streetlamp. The figure then firmly pointed the barrel of the firearm directly at the very center of his forehead. His young beating heart raced like no other. Tears staining his face. His body trembled with anger and anxiety. We wanted to fight back. He wanted to jump up and take down this monstrous embodiment of evil. But for some unknown reason, he could not move, for found that he did not have the ability, nor the willpower to even do so. It was as if he had been frozen in place, almost as if an unseen yet powerful force held him firmly to the ground, preventing him from standing up and fighting back against these cretins. The click of the pistol's hammer being pulled back resounded in his ears.

"It's nothing personal kid," the figure said, in a gruff tone. A low, sadistic-sounding chuckle escaped its lips. The next thing he heard was the trigger being pulled, and after that, a loud, ear-splitting bang, and then another sudden flash of light blinded him in a second.

His eyes shot wide open and he let out a terrible scream into the air as he shot himself upwards into a full sitting position. He now felt the wet grass underneath him, and the pouring rain falling from the blackened night sky above, leaving no crevice of his body dry until he was now soaking wet. He breathed heavily as he frantically examined his new surroundings. All he saw were a large school of stone monuments, tombstones, that enclosed the field around him. From there, he realized that he was in a graveyard. Eventually, he tried to calm himself down until his breathing slowed and he became steady once more. He looked down at himself and found to his surprise that he was completely naked as a newborn infant. On impulse, he pulled his legs up close, his knees now inches away from coming into contact with his small chest and he wrapped his arms across himself.

But public nudity was the least of his worries right now. What truly mattered to him was how did he end up here, in this enveloping field of the dead? But far more importantly, just what was that dream he had from before? It was so real. So much life like. Almost as if he had truly been there when it happened. But then, the biggest question of them all came to him; was it really a dream, or was it a vision? A repeating recollection of a time that was not too long ago? But no matter how hard he frustratingly tried, the specific and tiny details would not manifest into his mind. Just earlier, he could almost easily remember everything that had happened. But now that he was wide awake, naked, afraid, and alone in the dark, for some odd and unbeknownst reason, everything was pretty much now a hazy blur. Just why couldn't he remember everything? Just what in the world were those five shadowy figures he saw? These many questions began to hurt his brain. That is, until...

"You shouldn't have looked, boy..." said a deep, and yet all too familiar voice. The boy nearly yelped and he quickly whipped around to try and locate whomever it was that had spoken. A loud caw suddenly caught his ears. He swiftly turned around and found himself face-to-face with what appeared to be a small black bird perched on top of the lone gravestone that which he rested against. The young boy swallowed a fearful lump that got stuck in his throat.

"Was that you?" he nervously muttered. "Who are you...?"

"Can't you tell, Chiro?" the bird said, without even moving its long black beak. "Don't tell me you've already forgotten what a crow looks like, have you?" The boy eyed curiously at the crow, and slightly inclined his head to the left side. Chiro? Why did it keep calling him that? Unless... Was that his name?... Chiro? Another question came to him.

"Wait," he said. "You can talk?"

"Yes, but not exactly," the crow spoke, again without moving its black beak. Chiro's young mind wondered about how such a crow was capable of conversing in human speech, until the answer had finally appeared in his brain, allowing him the given ability to draw the first deduction.

"Wait... Are you... inside my head?" he wondered. The crow bobbed its head down in a nod.

"Smart boy," it complemented. Chiro swallowed another lump that had gotten stuck in his throat. After that, he once again found the ability to speak openly.

"Where am I?" he wondered with a fearful mutter. "And how did I end up here? Why am I here?"

"You can start with this here gravestone," the crow ordered, tapping the tip of its beak onto the little stone monument that which it had perched itself upon. Chiro squinted his eyes until he was now able to clearly decipher the words that were engraved on the front of the marble headstone. His eyes quickly widened and he uneasily backed up. His breathing almost sped as he stared down at the written words and shook his head disconcertedly. The gravestone went as followed; -

Here lies the body of Chiro Carrington.

Born on January 4th, died at the age of fourteen on March 31st.

Rest in peace.

He recited those exact same words over and over and over again. But no matter how many times he read it for what had seemed to be the umpteenth time, it still did nothing to make any sense for him. This couldn't be right. This just couldn't be right. Chiro gazed back up at the crow, who was still perched on top of the gravestone. It bobbed its head into a nod once again.

"Yes, Chiro," it said. "It's yours. This is where you had been laid to rest. Until now, that is..." It was all still very hard for him to believe any of this. This truly did not make any sense to him whatsoever. If this really was his own gravestone, if he actually was dead like it said he was, then how was he still here, moving and breathing? He was still alive, wasn't he?

"No, Chiro," the crow stated grimly. "You are not."

"What do you mean?" Chiro asked, confusion swallowing his mind.

"Follow me, and you will find the answers you seek," The crow ruffled its black feathers and then suddenly let out four loud caws, loud enough that it had slightly startled Chiro. With that, it spread out and then flapped its black wings, and it flew off into the rainy distance. Chiro watched as it now rested on top of another tombstone, one that was about fifteen feet away from his location. The crow turned its head around to face him and cawed out to the boy once more.

"Come, child," it mentally spoke to him, "lest you don't want to be left behind." And so, with careful ease, Chiro lifted himself off from the ground to his bare feet and he followed after the crow. The crow once again spread out its wings and flew into the night air.

"This way," it said, as it glided towards the somewhat distant cemetery exit.

After traversing through the cemetery, detailing each and every gravestone that he had passed by, Chiro reached the exiting mouth of the graveyard entrance. With one careful step at a time, he now found himself standing near the edge of a fifty-inch-wide sidewalk, with a couple resting vehicles here and there, either parked up close to the side of his location or on the opposite end of the street. Chiro looked both ways and sure enough saw no oncoming car heading his way. He swiftly darted across the street, all the while trying to keep his head down, his soaking wet black hair practically covering his face, his arms still crossed over his small chest, the rain still falling hard on his already drenched naked body. Once after he made it across the street, Chiro saw before him what he perceived was some kind of alleyway, one that was long, dark and ominous. Gapped between two old adjoining buildings that were constructed many years ago, but it was cold and uninviting. Chiro turned to his left and saw that the crow sat itself on top of the edge of a nearby garbage can.

"It's not that far away," it said. "It's just on the other end of this alley." The black bird suddenly flew again, but this time, it landed and rested onto Chiro's right shoulder.

"Easy does it, kid," it said again.

And so, with each cautious step, Chiro ambled forward and crossed the threshold of the alley inside. It was all like that of a cavernous mouth just waiting to swallow up anybody who dared to venture inside. He judiciously cut through the wastes that laid beyond the rear of the seemingly old and withered apartment buildings, whose windows were now broken and boarded up with thick planks of wood or a large piece of cloth that was long enough to cover them up. Trash and litter had laid strewn everywhere. Upon taking a tiny whiff through his nose, Chiro's face curled in revulsion and he instantly felt like he was going to throw up; the strong yet foul stench of decayed urine and feces filled the musty air, and tiny things, be it either stray animals or most likely a disease-infested rat or two scuttled underfoot as Chiro cautiously strode down the alleyway's lengthy corridor. He saw around him that the walls ran with grime and filth, which had covered the now long faded graffiti brickwork.

As he was just about within reach of the other end of the alley, a sudden noise had caught his ears. Chiro twisted around to face its direction and saw what appeared to be a dark figure emerging from a large yet terribly aged cardboard box. A captivating grip of fear took a hold of him as he gazed upon this mysterious stranger. Who was this person? Was he dangerous? Friendly? These thoughts continuously ran through his brain until the homeless fellow finally appeared from out of the shadows. Chiro saw that it was a large round-bodied man who appeared to be dressed in clothes that were made entirely out of what seemed like withered brown fur. He was bare-armed and bare-legged. He wore but a simple cap over his head and he had a beige-colored moustache that was impossibly long and bushy, the ends almost curled.

"Who's out there?" the man said in a grizzled yet defensive-sounding voice. But once after he noticed Chiro, he no longer felt any sense of being threatened and calmed down. "Are you alright there, kid?" Chiro partially looked away and lightly kept his head down out of nervousness and he shivered from the cold rainy weather. The homeless man was quite perplexed by what he saw, and then he too looked away, more so out of embarrassment than what Chiro was feeling.

"What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" he asked with concern. "And why aren't you wearing any clothes?" Without even waiting for a single response, the man turned around and rushed back on over to his little cardboard box of a home and grabbed something from within. He stood back up onto his feet and re-approached Chiro, this time with something that was now held in his hands; he handed the boy a withered-looking red blanket. It was slightly torn around the edges, and the color was practically washed-out.

"Here ya go, kid," he said, as he handed the young boy the blanket. "I know it ain't much, but it's better than wearing nothing at all." With that, Chiro wrapped the blanket around his shoulders until he was now covered up and protected from the pouring rain. Just before he had done so, the crow jumped up and now sat itself on top of Chiro's black-haired head.

"Thank you," Chiro whispered with a nod. But then, he unknowingly made the mistake of enacting eye contact with the homeless man. The man's eyes speedily widened, and he let out a yelp. He fell to the wet and dirty floor and stared up at Chiro with a newfound sense of dread and terror.

"What's wrong?" Chiro asked in confusion.

"Y-Your eyes!" the homeless man exclaimed as he barely made any attempt to crawl away, still captivated by what he was seeing. "Your face! You look like a d-demon!"

"What are you talking about?" Chiro asked. But then, a certain thought came to him as he peered down at the man. "Wait, haven't I seen you from somewhere?"

"Stay back!" the homeless man yelled as he struggled to get back up to his feet. "Don't you dare come near me, creature of hell!" And so, the man crawled back to his cardboard home and covered his entire body up, including his head, with his own blanket, all the while staring back at Chiro with terrible dread in his eyes.

"Ignore him, boy," the crow stated. With that, Chiro hesitantly turned back around and continued onward through the corridor of the alley.

"I feel like I've seen him before," he muttered. "Almost as if I've practically known him all of my life. Though maybe not personally, but I feel like I've noticed him around from time to time."

"That's because you have," the crow said. "An urban vagrant under the belief that the world is coming to an end."

It was all now coming back to Chiro. Of course, he remembered now. That same man would always walk around the city streets, be it at the Promenade, the Park, or Downtown, just anywhere at all in the city, carrying a picket sign that always carried with it the same exact painted picture of two meteorites coming down on the planet, crying out to the people around him that the end of the world was near. Chiro chuckled a bit at the memory. But then, he frowned and became very concerned. Even though he now clearly remembered, there was something else that was beginning to bother him. What the homeless man had said earlier.

"What is it, Chiro?" the crow asked.

"What did he mean by my eyes? My face?" From here, the fourteen-year-old was beginning to grow suspicious. "Is there something going on that you're not telling me?"

"Patience, boy," the bird responded. "You will have your answer soon enough." Chiro then immediately stopped, upon realizing that he had now reached the other end of the alleyway. The path sharply turned to the left, where standing before him another another passageway, which lead towards an entirely different district of the city.

"It's that building far up ahead to the left," the crow explained.

As Chiro traversed through this new alleyway, he found that it was practically as much rank and abysmal just like the last, but of course it still rained like madness. He found a very small number of graffiti that were beginning to fade away from the stone brick walls. Bits and pieces of trash laid strewn around the puddled up concrete floor, but not so much here like the other. And fortunately for him, the stench of urine and feces were by far a lot less profound here in this area, so much so where Chiro was able to fully breath again. Once after he reached the far end of the alleyway, he came upon the apartment building the crow had mentioned. It loomed high above, reaching to be approximately sixty feet, and the outer exterior was entirely made out of red bricks, with aged white-painted window frames. Chiro looked out and saw that he was now in another district of the city. Upon further inspection, he noticed that the front door was all boarded up. He sighed under his breath.

"What now?" he asked the crow, who remain perched on his head.

"The fire escape," the crow suggested, as it pointed its beak back towards the left-hand side wall of the withering construction. From there, Chiro noticed a series of stairwells that lead upwards to the very top of the seemingly six-story building. The crow then flew up towards the rails of the second-floor balcony that was connected to the stairwell.

"All the way to the top, boy," the crow said. Chiro slowly but surely climbed up the iron stairwell of the fire escape, all the while holding onto the red blanket as he could to keep it from falling off. It took a short while, but he managed to arrive at the very top of the condemned apartment building, reaching up to meet the broken window displayed out in front of him. Chiro had a hard time seeing inside, for it was almost as dark as it was out here in the pouring rain. And so, he judiciously slid the window wide open. But then, without paying attention, a small yet sharp piece of glass pierced through his flesh. Instinctively, Chiro pulled his hand away and examined the freshly made wound that displayed itself on the palm of his left hand. To his surprise, he didn't feel it. He didn't feel any sort of pain at all. Sure, he felt the glass poke into his skin and saw the blood dripping, but still he felt absolutely nothing.

Chiro's eyes practically shrunk into dots at what he saw next; the wound began to quickly disappear; close itself up in a matter of seconds until it was no longer there, as if it had been completely erased from existence. Even the blood had vanished as well. Chiro was very much taken aback by what he just saw. What in the world was happening to him? How was it that he could easily and yet quickly heal in a matter of seconds? Abruptly, the crow dashed inside the window and glided through the darkened room. It landed on top of a nearby kitchen counter on the far other side of the place. With ease, Chiro crawled on through the window until he finally came into the open spaced living room.

Droplets of leaking water fell from the ceiling above, which went up to be nearly ten feet high, with three old fans that were now covered in cobwebs and mold, a clear sign that they had been in disuse for quite a long time. Some of the surrounding furniture, be it some chairs, a nearby couch, or a couple of bookcases, were covered in aged white linen sheets. Everything else in the living room looked completely trashed; broken dishes and glass cups practically littered the wooden floor. Pots and pans were spread everywhere. The lime-green wallpaper had aged horribly, for they were either torn or were peeling off to reveal the descending cracks and crevices that hid from underneath the walls.

"What is this place?" Chiro whispered.

The response came to him in the form of unconsciously stepping onto a small object that laid out on the floor. Suddenly, at the very moment he touched whatever it was on the floor, his mind was immediately overtaken by a bright flashing light. But then, after the light had quickly died, a vision had appeared before him, showing him many things that which had happened in this very room. He saw a young boy - which he instantly recognized to be none other than himself, sitting at the dining room table, eating a large-looking slice of cake, surrounded by the happy smiling faces of the people that were near and dear to his soul. It was all coming back to him now. Yes. This was his home, and it would appear that he was in the middle of what he identified to be some kind of party. He saw that the living room was now fresh and practically new again. Everything was clean, and the place was covered in pink and red decorations.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jinmay!" said an affectionate yet familiar voice, which he recognized to be his own, as he handed to the girl a single red card. Suddenly, Chiro was brought back to reality. He let out a wheezing gasp for air and then stumbled towards the floor on both of his knees. His hands slackened, allowing the red blanket to fall back from his shoulders and down his back, until once again completely exposing his naked body. Chiro's breathing quickened, his heart beating so fast in his chest like that of a hummingbird's, his entire being trembling with distress and apprehension.

"What was that?!" he nearly exclaimed, almost half expecting the crow to give him an answer straightaway, which it didn't for the moment. Chiro looked down at the floor and saw something peculiar; a square-shaped, red-colored object with pink hearts that were decorated on the front. He carefully reached down, grabbed it, and then held it up close, so that he could see it much better. Recognition popped into his brain and it told him that what he was holding in his hands was the exact same Valentine's Day card he saw in his vision, the very same one that he gave to... her. The card was old and dusty, the edges wrinkled and bent, and brown aged blotches covered up certain areas of the front. Chiro slowly opened the card, and read whatever was written inside.

To Jinmay...

With all of my heart, you are a precious gem that glistens in the sun. Before I met you, I felt like my lonely world would always be an empty void of nothing. But then, somehow in someway, you came into my life and everything had changed for the better. You are everything that I could ever want in a girlfriend; a radiant and holy angel that came down from Heaven above to shine your light onto this dark world that I live in. What many other people find very strange, including myself, is how you are the exact opposite of what I am; dark, brooding, melancholic, maybe sarcastic at times, you on the other hand are a bright white light who is always beaming with happiness. Not once have I found any kind of fault with you; Never did I hear you swear or say anything nasty or vicious against anybody.

This alone makes us a perfect fit for one another, a perfect balance between the positive and the negative, the yin and the yang, the light and the dark, the angel and the demon.

Whereas I would point out the worst of humanity, you would always be there to point out the good ones. You love and care for those who have either shown you scorn or have given you nothing back in return. Despite how others treat you, be it in good or in bad, you still show them compassion, and you do what is best to be a shining example to those around you. And because of those aspects, I believe that every teenage girl out there in the world should be like you.I could never be any more so blessed to have you in my life, to have you as the girl of my dreams. I pray that our love for one another will never dampen, and that it will live on and grow even stronger with each passing day.

I love you, Jinmay, now and forever always. Happy Valentine's Day.

Forever yours, Chiro.

A massive wave of emotion instantly washed over Chiro's heart. His hands trembled as he struggled to hold the card up until he couldn't take it anymore, and the card fell back to the floor where it was. His bottom lip began to quiver and he felt something wet trickle down both of his eyes, but he knew from the back of his head that it wasn't water that still dripped from his still soaking wet black hair. He wrote this. These were his own written words. He poured every single bit of his heart and soul into this card. All of it. For her.

"Jinmay," he whispered. That name ran through the cells of the memory core within his brain more than a thousand times in a matter of less than a split second.

Jinmay... It was all coming back to him now. He remembered everything that there was about this girl. He remembered her pink pigtailed hair, her emerald-green eyes and her angelic smile and laughter. So innocent, so kind. He remembered many of the greatest of times he spent with her; going to the movies, munching down on hoverburgers over at Gakslapper's, sharing a large ice cream sundae together, even one time where they both visited the Museum of Shuggazoomian History. Chiro let out a hard sniffle, his eyes began to water, and then he wiped them away with is right arm. He fought hard to try and stand back up onto his feet and he found himself triumphant after doing so. He then turned to his right and saw a closed brown wooden door located right next to the living room door. He slowly walked up to the door and then ponderously placed his left hand on the wooden framework.

Remembrance invaded his mind once more, after another vision flashed before him. He saw himself walking outside from the door and out into the living room where he showed off his brand new set of clothes to his mother and father, including Jinmay who sat onto on the coach that rested up against the front window. One after he was brought back to the real world, Chiro immediately grabbed onto the brass knob, twisted it around to the side, and flung the door wide open.

What he saw inside was a wide bedroom with an unused bed displayed out in front of him. To the left was the closet which remained shut and had never once been opened in a very long time. He then turned around to the right and from there he examined what appeared to be the likes of a short wooden dresser drawer with a large, oval-shaped mirror that rested on top, being precisely positioned up against the wall along with the drawer. At this point, Chiro did not have to wonder, because he instantly knew already that this indeed use to be his own bedroom.

He slowly walked up to the drawer and then examined the chipped wooden exterior. But then, he looked up to face the oval mirror, and what he saw looking straight back at him gave him quite the most petrifying scare he ever had. The very instant, he yelped loudly in terror and backed away until he was now up against the side edge of the bed. But eventually, he calmed down again as he began to further examine the creature he saw within the mirror. To his realization and horror, the monstrous being he was staring back at was not something from another world that laid beyond the threshold of the mirror. What he saw was none other than... himself. His own reflection. Chiro lightly brushed his fingertips against his left tear-stained cheek and he shook his head in utter disbelief...

His face, his skin, his entire body, was now a ghostly-white. Black vertical lines went down across his eyes. And speaking of eyes, his former white sclera were colored all black, and his once blue irises now glowed an ominous red. Chiro continued to stare back at his own seemingly demonic-looking reflection for what had felt like an agonizing eternity. So that was why the homeless man from before freaked out after looking at him face-to-face. He shook his head again. This wasn't real. This just couldn't be so. None of it had to be. Was this all a dream? If so, then it was a lot more like a terrible nightmare. Why? Just why did he look like this?

"One of the very few things that come with being brought back to life," the crow abruptly stated. Chiro finally turned away, breaking eye contact with his own reflection. He twisted his body around to face the bedroom door and he marched on out of the bedroom until he returned to the living room. He scowled seethingly at the crow, with both of his hands forming into tight-fisted balls. Clearly, this small black bird knew a whole lot more than what it was letting on. No more messing around. It was time to get some answers.

"How and why do I look like this?" Chiro muttered, anger and emotional frustration beginning to pepper his voice. "How and why am I still alive, when I should clearly be dead? Just how and why is it that I keep having these flashbacks whenever I touch certain objects?"

And now, for the million-dollar question...

"But most importantly," he went on, "what are you? Just what in the world are you?" After saying nothing for a small moment, which was beginning to feel like a long time, the crow stared back at Chiro, and then let out four loud caws.

"A long time ago," it began, "people once believed that when somebody dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it, and the soul cannot rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back, to put the wrong things right." Chiro said nothing, and just continued to stare at the black bird, confusion written all over his face.

"This is the very reason as to why I brought you back, Chiro," it stated, "brought you back from the dead, gifted you with special abilities, powers that no living mortal being could ever possess. I brought you back, because everything that you had in your life, the only girl you ever loved, was unjustly ripped away from you."

Suddenly, another seemingly random flashback appeared before Chiro and he saw and heard things, terrible things, things that which he did not want to go through with again. He heard many sounds and voices, voices that he had not heard in over a very long time, but still they rang very loudly in his ears like church bells. He saw Jinmay and himself running down a very peculiar alleyway that was not so different from the one he was in earlier. He heard gunshots, saw blood splashing, he heard her crying, begging for mercy. He heard men's voices, including a woman's, laughing sadistically at the pair's predicament. He saw the faces of the monsters that surrounded them both. He heard their spoken names; Mighty Klaw, Hoodie, Pigphase, Squatch, and Outrageous. The same five black figures he saw from before. He tried to fight them back, but he could not. As he just knelt there on the dirty concrete floor, he then felt the familiar barrel of a gun pointed at his forehead, and the familiar sound of the firearm's hammer being pulled back.

"It's nothing personal, kid," the figure repeated, in that same gruff voice, and let out that same sadistic chuckle. Chiro then saw that the figure's mouth continued to form words, but he found himself suddenly hearing nothing, just muffled sound.

The last thing he heard was the same ear-splitting bang, and then the thud of his own limp body falling to the floor, and the terrible screams of Jinmay crying and pleading for help as they continued to laugh at and mercilessly violate her to no end. Chiro clutched his head tightly and he bit down on his bottom lip hard. His breathing became quick and heavy as the visions continued to endlessly flash through his brain, not even once leaving him any room for a quick breather. It was all enough to drive him to the brink of insanity. He wanted this to stop. He wanted all of it to just stop. But somehow, it was not over yet. It was through Jinmay's eyes that he felt every single filthy hand tear off a piece of her clothes from her body, their snake-like fingers taking away her innocence, and every single blade cut into her bare flesh. He felt every single moment of her pain and misery in full ruthless force.

For what had seemed like forever, the visions suddenly stopped. From the very instant they had, Chiro had finally let out a bone-chilling scream, so loud that it almost shook the entire room, so loud that he felt like his throat was about to erupt and then bleed. In a quick motion, he slammed his fists so hard onto the ground that they nearly smashed the thick mahogany wood into splintered pieces. Fresh, sorrowful tears streamed down his face, his heart and body now completely stricken with an incomprehensible sense of pain and grief.

"They took away everything from you, Chiro," the crow said grimly. "They took away your life, robbed you of your future. But worst of all, they took, your, girl."

As if it wasn't anymore clearer already. Chiro slowly stood back up, his hands, his feet, his breathing, his body, all of which were now quivering with a newly discovered primal sense of indescribable rage and hatred. The hatred for the people that had done this to him, for what they had done to Jinmay, for how they gleefully and willingly destroyed his entire world without even once batting a single eyelash or even giving it a second thought. A low predatory growl escaped from his lips.

"These monsters!" he hissed, venom spewing from his voice. "These unholy abominations! I must find them! I will make them pay! With their lives! Every last one of them!"

"And make them pay, you shall!" The crow concurred with a loud caw. With this, Chiro twisted around and ran straight back into his bedroom. He opened each and every old dresser from his drawer until he came upon a single brown suitcase that rested at the very bottom. He pulled it out, laid it on top of the bed, and then opened it. From here, he found some clothes, ones that he had not worn in a long time. They were perfect. Chiro turned back and shut the bedroom door, nice and tightly. For about five straight minutes, the crow awaited patiently on the kitchen counter, until Chiro had once again emerged from his bedroom.

But this time, he was now fully dressed, in clothes that made him appear strongly goth-like; he wore a black t-shirt with black-and-white striped long-sleeves and two split tails that draped down at a calf's length. In addition to that, he was dressed in a pair of black denim jeans and black knee-high long boots with three looped buckles for each one. And lastly, he wore a pair of black fingerless gauntlet gloves.

Chiro remained where he was, silently gazing at the crow with a light scowl that was written all over his ghostly-white face, his glowing red eyes burning with that same scents of hatred and fury which continued to rise up like the flames of an out-of-control blazing wildfire, deliberately refusing to be put out.

"No mercy will be shown," the crow declared, "for they shall find only death! No amount of an apology can quench the never-ending pain of a great loss! The wrongs shall be righted! The swift hands of justice and vengeance shall glide together on great black wings and cut through the veil of darkness! Before the week is out, the sins of the wicked will not go unpunished!"

And just like that, the crow flew towards Chiro and perfectly landed on his right shoulder once more.

Chiro swiftly turned around and then darted straight for the opened window.

Well guys, I hope that you've enjoyed this chapter. Do not worry, I have more plans for this fic that are to come. And yes, as you've just read, the Wild Five will be one of the main villains in this story. For those of you who do not remember, they are that intergalactic biker gang that first appeared on SRMTHFG in Season 4, Episode 8, "The Hills Have Five".

Oh, and one other thing, there are quite a few references here and there from The Crow, ranging from direct quotes and lines from both the comic and the movie, heck, even the chapter titles will contain a reference or more as well. So if you spot them, let me know. Until then... have a pleasant evening. Bye! ^_^

P.S. Do not forget to post your reviews and tell me what you think.