Author's Note: Majority of characters are owned by Marvel and not by me. The Sentencer is owned by BLAKKSTONE. The Black Rose, Thomas Crawford, William Rustle, Raphiel Borealo, and so on are owned by GataBaja. Damijin Spade and anyone not listed is owned by me except for the Forello family, which is copywrighted by NTCMedia.
Also, I'm tying this in with BLAKKSTONE's Vampire Ninja of the Yakuza. My take on Full Circle...it never happened, but there are elements. Sorry, BLAKK.
The New Crime Central:
Ever since the death of Wilson Fisk's at the Snypa and Punisher's hands, New York's underworld had been at war. But however, ever since hearing about the coming wedding, these guys had joined forces. Everyone was gathered. The speaker for the night: Billy Russo.
Better known as Jigsaw.
Jigsaw turned to everyone.
"So, you fucks all know that the Snypa and the Black Rose are getting married, right?"
Among the people there were the Maracellis, their representative being Raphiel Borealo. He hated the concept of Rose marrying this psychopath motherfucker. Thoughts were running through his mind about his precious 16 as Jigsaw droned on.
Hammerhead spoke up.
"Hey, Russo- I heard that it would be at the Garden."
"The Garden?" asked Carl Burbank, better known on the street as the hitman named Bushwhacker. "Why there? It has to be a trap."
"That's because it is a trap, you Neanderthal."
Everyone in the room turned to the black-haired, blue eyed man who was filing his nails. Including Bushwhacker. The man wearing nothing but a black suit stood up and walked up to the front of the board room.
"And I see why the heroes decimiate you in every fight," Raphiel said, releasing a sigh. "You have no sense of intelligence or strategy whatsoever."
Bushwhacker was getting angry.
"What did you call me?!" he growled.
Raphiel sighed before turning to him.
"I will not repeat myself to someone with the IQ of a brick."
Bushwhacker walked up to Raphiel, pointing his finger at Raphiel.
"That's it! You're done for!"
"Hold it!"
Again, everyone looked around and saw a very familiar man. He was short, fat, and middle-aged. His wearing of shades at night were not what caught their attention but the four very large tentacles that were doing the walking for him.
Otto Octavius. Doc Ock.
"Jigsaw, do you mean to tell me that there is a wedding and no one invited the great Dr. Octopus?"
"Sorry, Doc," Jigsaw replied. "Didn't think you'd wanna get in on something as pathetic as killing a mere punk like Damijin Spade."
"Yeah, Ock," agreed Tombstone, barely above a gravelly whisper. "Figured you'd be busy getting your ass beat by Spider-Man or something."
The Doc replied with one of his tentacles gripping itself around Tombstone's head and lifting him into the air.
"Do you really wish to crack jokes at my expense, Tombstone?" Doc Ock hissed. "I could crush your brainless head right now and not think twice about it."
Thompson remained silent as Doc Ock neatly deposited him back in his chair, even straightening his tie out.
"Now- please continue if you'd be so kind."
Bushwhacker, however, was not pleased. He turned back to Raphiel.
"Where was I? Oh, yeah..."
But before he could fire his "pistol," Raphiel was gone. Bushwhacker looked up at Raphiel who was coming down with twin blades in his hands...
At least a nanosecond later, Raphiel threw Burbank's severed, impaled head on the long table.
"This is a prime example of who you shouldn't have in your employ, Jigsaw," Raphiel said before going back to his seat.
He looked around at everyone, except for Tombstone and Doc Ock, who were staring with gaping mouths.
"Now, if the Snypa and the Black Rose plan to get married in the Garden- then the cops have to know that they'll be there as well."
"We can handle the cops," Jigsaw replied. "It's just that who knows what those two will have waiting for us if it's a trap."
"Well, we stand a chance at finding out," Raphiel replied.
I decided to open up with the villains first because I wanted them to deduct that the wedding is an obvious trap. But there has to be something else. Keep reading!
