Kojo was lost, figuratively and literally, in the Northern Bronx.
"The golf course is to my left, so I'm in Wakefield?" He raised an eyebrow at the map in his hands. "These things are always unclear with that shit; how am I supposed to scout the borough for conquest?" He asked no one. Furling it up, he looked around the neighborhood from his current rooftop. "I'm not drawing a map, Marcus can't do everything, César is full of shit, Jack is dumb muscle, and Ren is way too obedient after what I did to her."
Many would call him paranoid, something he'd understand and agree with somewhat. He'd spend days awake at a time. The new physiology let him stay conscious for a week before he needed sleep. Hunger was something he felt, but starvation seemed impossible, dehydration more so.
Shrugging, Kojo dropped down into a nearby alley. "Fuck it, I'll have a meal and go."
"Ah," a withered voice behind him said. "You've finally come. At last, I can rest."
He blinked and spun on his heel to face a purple-robe covered elderly woman seated on a stool. "Who the hell are you?"
The stranger unhooded herself and examined him with milky eyes.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm the most molestable minor you've ever seen. Can we skip the horrible flirting straight to the part I break your neck?"
"I'm afraid we are both mistaken… I thought you were someone, something else." She grumbled. "You aren't normal, are you?"
"No shit, can't you see the horns?" He pointed at them for added effect.
She shook her head. "I lost my sight years ago. My perception is beyond this mortal plane now."
"And I'm a demon from hell," Kojo said with a roll of his eyes. He turned to the alley exit and took a step forward.
"How many people have you killed?'
Kojo stopped.
"There are so many of them. I can't count them all, but I can see their blood on you; I can see the stains on your red shirt and every drop splattered on your body. You are red…enshrouded by Death."
He spun back around. "Who are you?"
"No, who are you? My name means nothing to you or to me anymore. You are so much more than I, more than I could ever be, are you not?"
"Guess I'll just kill you then." He leapt over to the woman and pulled his arm back.
She poked his chest with a bony finger. "Doesn't it hurt? You're in so much pain."
Kojo relented with a scoff. "Seriously, what the fuck are you talking about?"
"You." She jabbed into him with every word. "Who. Are. You?"
"Kojo… Just Kojo." He brushed her finger away. "I've always been Kojo."
"That is only one of them, what are the other two?"
He blinked. "I only have two, you crazy bitch."
"You have three. Three is a constant in your life. Three fathers, three mothers, three selves, three deaths, three names, and three eyes."
"Now you've completely lost me."
"Three shots: one to the knee, one to the chest, and one to the head. Three moves: one to the knee, one to the throat, and one slip of a knife to finish it." She grimaced. "Three agonies: one to the body, one to the mind, and one to the soul."
"…Continue."
"Three fathers: the one who sired you, the one who beat his lessons into you, and the one who will teach you what it means to wear the crown. Three mothers: the one who birthed you, the one who nursed you, and the one who believed in you. Three selves: the Dead One, the Lost One, and the True One. Three deaths: the one before living, the one in the stream, and the one awaiting us all. Three names: the individual one, the family one, and the True One. Three eyes: the right one, the left one, and the true one."
Kojo narrowed his eyes. "I didn't get half of that."
"But the other half?" The elderly woman folded her hands.
"You know too much." Scowling, he drove his hand through her ribs and tore out her heart, spraying blood over them both and on the alley walls.
The woman fell back with a laugh as her lifewater gushed from her chest. "I wish you peace, forlorn child. One day, your pain will end."
"I don't feel anything."
"Are you so numb still?" She wheezed. "…Tears will spill from your eyes, like a river. Your grief will consume you for a time… But you will be free at last… Farewell." The elderly woman stilled.
Kojo raised an eyebrow. "She spoke way too well for someone with a heart torn out." He lifted the bloody organ up to his line of sight. "They bleed it out in a couple of seconds real quick. Panic doesn't help either but death is still inevitable at that point."
The corpse left him alone in silence and emptiness.
He stilled before staring at the blood-dripping walls, an ever familiar sight.
It was still the same.
Snarling, he lifted his blood-soaked hand and tore a chunk of meat off the leanest human muscle.
Prey always had a habit of coming to him.
Filled and unfulfilled, Kojo jumped out of the alley and took off back to Hunts Point, far too eager to put this incident behind him.
News of the Avengers' exploits were broadcasted ever day of the week. They told of unimaginable creatures, horrid villains, and epic tales. Little doubt some were nonsense meant to attract the young and stupid, but grains of truth hide themselves in lies.
There are more things on Earth and beyond his current self couldn't accept.