"It's nothing personal, old friend."
Henry cannot help but emit a growl as the man draws up one of his eyelids from his blackout. Red fills his half-blinded sight, with the odor of foul iron overwhelms his nose. He shifts his tongue inside his mouth, licking against the teeth, and spits out a deformed .50 BMG. The said bullet hits the hard ground and resounds lightly with a clank of metal.
Taking in his breath sharply, Henry has his hand on the cold surface and pushes himself up, though with barely any success before finally giving up and lying flat on his back. A deadpanned stare soon finds its way to his face, replacing the earlier ire at the not-so-unexpected betrayal. He did anticipate one day they would play Judas. But to think it arrived this early...
Right now, he is simply too mentally exhausted to be angry at the backstabbing bastard.
The man stares ahead, occasionally closing and opening his eye. His vision is too blurry, with his left side gone completely black, to properly make out what he is currently looking at. However, he can faintly perceive the flickering light which dimly illuminates the room and his battered form. Darkened blood drips from countless cuts and gunshot wounds across his body. A fragment of a grenade stuck in his left eye, which explains the lack of whole vision. One large gash across his chest, exposing his ribcage and throbbing flesh. Finally, a bleeding stump on the upper left arm with the rest of it missing, rather most likely in shreds after the ambush.
Bastard really brought out the big guns, Henry notes dryly whilst waiting for his strength to return to him. Sure, he looks to be on verge of dying in any moment, but he certainly survived through ordeals hundreds of times worse than this. Like that accursed night in Eastern Berlin.
Nonetheless, since they are too damaged to patch him up, Henry needs to stop the bleedings as soon as he is able to walk once more.
After what seems like hours passed, Henry finally manages to rise to both feet, albeit wobbles whilst doing so and almost trips on himself. Fortunately, his remaining palm meets the smooth surface of a wall and presses against it to support his limp body. He exhales a long sigh and evens his breaths as he ignores the burning lungs and parched throat.
Henry straightens himself up and stands upright, his back straight, and leaves a bloody handprint on the wall with his arm drops. His thump and pinky finger to his closed eyelids, prompting the man to massage his tired eye. He opens them again, with the vision bit by bit comes back to normal—which rapidly puts every fiber within him on edge.
This room is not where Henry fought for his "life" moments ago. Despite that, from the corner of his eye, he spots a certain machine, whose frame is shaped similar to a door. With all the dusts gathered on the device and the debris surrounding it, looks like it was last used quite some time ago. Yet, the machine flickers its light, growling quietly, then turns off completely after a moment.
Definitely not a sight he wishes to see after waking up.
"...Could it be?" Henry realizes with an uneasy grimace before scanning across the room, noting the state it is in at the moment. Glass pieces and broken tiles scatter everywhere with several objects that are always present in a lab lay here and there.
Before long, his eye lands on a certain tube, which he promptly makes his way to the said object and picks it up. Reading the label, his eye widens and sends the room another scan, this time he focuses on its layout, the location of the door, broad windows and where he was lying. Furthermore, his nose begins to filter the scents, and soon a particularly familiar and unwelcoming disinfected scent which already soaked underneath the floor and the walls rushes into his nostrils.
There is no mistaking it. This is definitely where he got ambushed. He did not recognize earlier due to how abandoned it is, contrary to how it is, or, in this case, was supposed to be all the time. All the marks, the holes, craters and various damages here, the room must have been raided.
Either way, he needs to stop the bleedings asap. Approaching a sole desk sitting at the corner of the room, Henry opens the drawers and searches their contents, shortly he comes across a syringe hidden in a false bottom. He gives the syringe a quick glance as he grabs it, then bites its cover and yanks it off the needle. He spits the cover out of his mouth and, with a deep inhaling, stabs the needle directly into his heart and injects the crimson serum which seems awfully akin to blood.
"Yeah. Definitely feeling that tomorrow..." Henry grumbles under his breath, feeling the immediate effect of the serum as it starts soaking his muscles, his bones.
Exhaling, Henry pulls the empty syringe out of his chest and promptly squashes the thing in his grip before he drops it to the ground. Crimson veins evidently emerge on his chest, around his heart, and travel towards his neck. The man emits a rasping hiss. His amber pupil shrinks. Drops of blood that drip from his wound sizzle as they touch the ground, sounding like acid, before his bleedings finally stop. He sighs contentedly, with the veins gradually fade and no longer present on his skin.
He wipes the blood off the corners of his mouth. Going over the torn body armor, he examines the dark tactical belt, checking the pouch on his right thigh and handgun holster on his left, along empty magazines and several stun grenades and smoke bombs. With his left arm no longer there, he sighs, and switches the places the pouch and the gun holster. The former is now on the left while the latter stays on the right, where his arm is still whole; the handgun itself is already empty. At the same time, he pulls the shrapnel out of his left eye.
Henry rolls his neck and breathes out. Time to discover if his worry is true, or not. Which he seems to lean towards the former, granting how lady Fortuna usually screws him.
Ripping the crime tape which is glued to the door, Henry exits the room, not before giving it another glance with a shake of his head. He makes his way across the empty hall, avoids the wreckages and rubbles alike. The ceiling lights sporadically twinkle, casting their gleams on the blood-drenched hair and sharp and scarred profile of the mangled man. Each step he takes leaves behind a faint, bloody footprint on the lined floor.
Spotting the staircase, Henry is about to ascend, though he reconsiders the notion as soon as his ears pick up the distant chatters and footfalls on the floor directly above him.
...The other way it is, then.
He turns around and approaches a certain set of metal door, which he opens and gently closes it as soon as he enters the janitor room. He ignores the old-looking mop and vacuum cleaner, instead he focuses on the shelves, which display several brands of detergents and so on. Pushing a spray bottle in the middle shelf out of the way, Henry pushes a brick.
A slit materializes on the wall on his side, revealing a door as it opens. Quickly, he strides through it as the door closes, now finding himself standing in the dark sewer system. Henry turns right, following the flow of the sewage—its odour mixing with blood stench seems overkill—before he sights the ladder leading to a manhole cover.
Before long, the said manhole cover is pushed open, with an amber eye slightly squints at the sudden brightness. Henry pushes the cover wholly and pushes himself up and stands on his feet as he moves the manhole cover back to its place with his foot. No longer inside that building, he let out a relieved breath and fills his lungs with the fresh and breezy air. The white of the sunlight which brightens the moss-filled alley bathes him with delight.
Well, nothing is going to ruin this moment for him, not after that shitshow he went through—
BOOM!
—and... Yeah. Lady Fortuna is rarely on his side.
Must. Resist. The. Urge. To. Facepalm!
"What do you always call it, James?" Henry mouths. "No rest for the wicked?"
Rubbing his face with an irritated sigh, Henry shakes his head and tilts his head to the source of the explosion with his gaze sharpened as he drops his hand, the fingers twitching lightly. He could hear the tires screeching the road. Then, a helpless pleading, and a chilling scream.
The scream that makes his blood boil. One that belongs to none other but a child.
It was not supposed to go like this!
It was supposed to be a simple job! Go in the bank, quickly make contact to the mole to disable the security, grab the diamonds and skedaddle asap. Easy, right?
It was supposed to be a smooth sail, right until that (in)famous R-Rated Hero came across them while he and his mates were leaving the bank. Needless to say, all hell broke loose as they fired their guns at her. And by some miracle they managed to get away. Even though, the sadistic pro heroine was immediately hot on their trail once they drove away with their getaway car.
Of course, the damn pro heroes never made things easy. Midnight, the R-Rated Hero, had backups. One of them did something to the car's engine—must be their Quirk—and it literally exploded when they managed a distance between them and those accursed heroes. The car went out of control and crashed into the traffic light.
Now, none is seriously hurt, but the crash did push all the air out of their lungs. He wheezes, taking a quick glance at his fellow bank robbers, and opens the door and rolls himself out of the vehicle. A grunt escapes his throat, as he soon notices bystanders already looking at them. Most notably, a pair of mother and son, both of whom barely got out of the way when the car crashed, stares at him, too stunned to properly say any proper word after the near-death experience.
He gnashes his teeth. Those damned heroes are gonna throw him back in the shithole again, and he sure ain't going back to stay in that fucking cell again!
Growling, he snatches the boy from his mother, much to the latter's horror and wide eyes.
"M-Mommy!"
"No! Please, not my baby! Please don't—!"
"Shut the fuck up!"
He backhands the woman on her cheek, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground.
"MOMMY!"
"Shut up, boy!" He unsheathes the knife and places the razor-sharp edge to the boy's throat. "You're gonna be nice when those fuckers catch up to us, and you're gonna do as I tell ya. Understand?"
"I-I..."
"I said, understand?!"
"No! I want my mommy! I don't wanna die! Mommy, help me!"
A crowd has already formed around the commotion, with people taking out their phones to film, all whisper amongst themselves whilst some stand and pray. The mother, her cheek red from the strike, can only do nothing but plead helplessly while watching her son wail. Shortly, three more get out of the wrecked car. They all approach him, ready their arms, watch out for any sight of the heroes. Be that as it may, one of them puts his hand on his shoulder.
"What're you doing?! The job is already busted. Doing this only makes it worse for all of us."
"I don't give a damn! I ain't going back there again—"
"Now, now, boys~. I know you four tried to rob the bank, but is it really... necessary to do this? The police are coming, by the way. Release the poor boy, and we might consider putting lessening your sentences, given you haven't hurt anyone; yet."
The moment a certain sultry voice is heard, all eyes are drawn to the owner of the voice as everyone turns their attention to the newcomer. His growl deepens, with his eyes land on a tall and voluptuous woman dressing in a thin, skin-tight white bodysuit. Midnight puts on an easy smile on her face while she slowly approaches. At the same time, police sirens grow louder with the police officers hurriedly surround the criminals in a good distance between them and the scene and establish a barrier so as to prevent any bystanders from getting too close to the scene. Her fellow co-workers arrive and stand on the roof, ready to jump into action if things start to look not too good. The armed bank robbers warily train their guns on the heroes, tensed.
Midnight takes slow, deliberate steps, aims to unnerve the criminal taking the boy as hostage; though she is soon forced to stop as soon as the criminal puts pressure on the boy's throat.
"Another fucking step and I swear I'll fucking slit this brat's throat!"
"Now, no need to be hasty here. Why don't we calm down and talk like civilized people—"
The boy widens his eyes and gapes as the blade pierces his skin. Midnight sucks in her breath, stares at the trail of blood from the wound on the boy's throat, stunned.
"Do I look calm to you?" he snarls. "And lessening our sentence? Stop spouting bullshit! You fucking put me there even though you promised me you wouldn't! I ain't going back there, even if it means I'm gonna kill every last person here, including this fucking brat!"
"No, please! Not my baby! T-Take me instead!" the mother pleads.
"Fuck. Why must it be this kind of nutcase?" Midnight murmurs under her breath and takes a deep breath before looking at him. "All right. What do you want? How about a compromise?"
"The brat stays with me. You'll not follow me. You'll not trace me. You'll leave me alone. And when I think it's safe enough, I might consider releasing him."
The R-Rated Hero narrows her gaze. "You know we can't allow that, don't you?"
"You think you're in any position to make demands, old hag?"
Which strikes a nerve, as the sexy heroine takes another deep breath while feeling the veins pulsing in her neck. "Look, pal. Why don't you make this easier for both of us?" Midnight suggests with her voice calm, though her eyes slightly twitching. "I don't know who arrested you last time. But... there are cameras here, yes? You have my word that if you release the boy and surrender peacefully with your friends, I'll personally be there in the court and put in a good word for... for..."
All of a sudden, Midnight trails off. Her mouth hangs open—as though no word is able to come out—while her trembling blue eyes grow wide little by little, as all the color is drained off her face. At the same instant, no one seems to say no word any longer. No whispers nor murmurs among the crowd, along the cops. The scene has turned eerily quiet, as nothing but the sounds of the wind in the early January and distant vehicle noises in the background remains.
With how silent it turned, the holding-hostage criminal cannot help but be on edge, seeing that every person here, including his accomplices, stares at him.
"Wh-Why so silent?! Got nothing to say?!" His brows furrow. "And what's with this smell, like shit and... blood—?"
In an instant, his voice is stuck in his throat. Cold sweats began forming all over his back. A shadow looms over him. He lightly tilts his head and looks behind him at the corner of his eyes. His blood runs cold at the sight of a towering and blood-covered figure with most of his left arm missing dwarfs and stares him down with his icy eyes—no, his sole right eye.
Instinctively, he whips around and tries to slash the newcomer. Yet, before his knife meets flesh, the figure, the man lunges his hand forward and claws his face. Feeling the entire skull being crushed all sides, the criminal quickly drops his arm and let the boy go as he clutches the hand clawing him, all the while screaming in excruciating pain. The man lifts him up to the air, as if he weighs nothing.
"L-L-Let me go, f-fucker!" the criminal cries, thrashing around and kicking the man, trying to escape the iron grip but to little and no avail. "What do you think you're doing?! I-I'm really gonna die!"
"Don't be a such cry baby. I'm not going to kill you. Not in front of a kid," the man says in his deep and cold tone, sending chilling shivers down the spines of those who can hear him. Though, he soon smiles as he turns to face the boy, who flinches upon his gaze setting on him. "Ah. Speaking of which, go back to your mom, son. Everything is going to be all right now."
The boy, in return, nods numbly while placing his hand on his neck, and runs back to his mom; the woman immediately embraces her son and mouths a grateful thank you at him. However, she sends him a worried look nonetheless.
Henry bobs his head, acknowledging her concern. "I'll be fine, ma'am. One missing arm's not going to stop me from taking care of these pathetic excuses of human beings."
"M-Motherfucker! Waste the bastard—!"
Henry tightens his grip on the criminal and throws him squarely at his accomplice. The thug crashes into his friend, knocking both out cold. He switches to his next target, quickly kicks the knife laying on the ground to his hand. The blade pierces through his hand, making him shriek out of shock and drop his assault rifle. Soon, a rock-hard fist finds its way to his face, silencing him and shattering the entire front of his skull. The said thug drops face-first to the ground; a small pool of blood forms right underneath his face.
Henry turns to the last of them, only to see a chain of sort wrapped around his wrist, which seems to come from the wrist of the remaining criminal. Another chain shoots out from his other wrist, folding around Henry's throat. It tightens, aiming to choke him.
Lowering his brows, Henry yanks his arm towards him. The thug immediately finds himself soaring through the air at the pull, quickly approaching the man. Henry rears his head backward and, once the thug is right in front him, delivers a crippling headbutt to the thug's forehead. A sickening sound like metal clashing against metal resounds. Blood spurts out of his nostrils like a pair of jets while his eyes turn white at the impact. The grip of the chains loosens as their owner drops to the ground.
"Fuck you! Die!"
Henry turns around and faces what appears to be the barrel of a shotgun, alongside the crazed look on the face of the thug that held the boy hostage moments ago. Without hesitation, the enraged thug pulls the trigger. Countless shots launch out of the gun, and blows into Henry's face, drawing blood and taking away a good chunk of flesh on his left cheek, showing the bloody left side of his teeth.
The thug puts on a triumphant smirk, although it is soon replaced with pure shock as he sees the life still present in Henry's functioning eye. This man—no, this monster is gonna kill him—!
Henry, taking advantage of his state of mind, snatches the double-barreled shotgun directly from the thug's grip and quickly repositions it. The barrels are aimed at his right hand, and this time it is him who pulls the trigger. Another round is shot, eliciting a wail. The thug's hand is shredded into pieces, seemingly beyond repair, showing red flesh and bones after the shot.
"Arrrrgggghhh! Fuck! My hand! My fucking hand! What kinda hero does this kinda shit?!"
"...Never said I'm a hero in the first place."
Henry drops the shotgun. He throws his fist at the thug's solar plexus, knocks the air out of him and makes him spit blood. The thug falls to his knee, clutching his chest while sending Henry a petrified gaze—which only intensifies under Henry's dark look. Before long, the thug's eyes roll to the back of his skull, and he collapses.
"Looks like I'm getting a bit rusty," Henry deadpans, heaving a sigh while touching his exposed left side of his face, touching the exposed teeth. "Bloody rusty, indeed."
Giving the out-cold thugs one final glance, Henry shakes his head and lightly relaxes. He turns, and faces the woman in skin-tight bodysuit. She recoils slightly when he squints his gaze.
"...What's with the suit?" he inquires with a raised brow. "Not that I'm complaining since I never shy away from appreciating a woman's body, but there should be time and place for it. Or perhaps you were on the way to a porn shoot?"
"E-EXCUSE ME?!"
"Easy now. I'm not judging," Henry continues, ignoring Midnight's livid glare. "I know Japan's been getting more open in the recent years, but to this point? Interesting, indeed—"
Henry stops mid-sentence as he soon notices the police officers are slowly surrounding him with their weapons trained on him. He tenses his fingers and narrows his eye.
"What... is the meaning of this?"
"Freeze! Hands in the air! You're under arrest for illegally using Quirk in the public and performing vigilante acts!" a female officer demands, aiming her issued New Nambu 60 right at him. "If you do not surrender, we'll shoot you down! I repeat, surrender, or we'll shoot you!"
"Vigilantism? Is this some kind of a joke you're trying to pull, officer?"
"Obstructing Pro-Heroes' work and using your Quirk in the public without license to save somebody, that's vigilantism!"
"...So—" his voice suddenly takes a colder edge "—you're telling me to just watch this unfolding and let these cocksuckers get away with a hostage when your so-called heroes clearly couldn't take control of the entire situation? You're telling me to sit back while I could do something to help, which I did? IS THAT WHAT YOU ARE TELLING ME, IGNORING INNOCENT PEOPLE, IGNORING A CHILD WHO WAS ABOUT TO GET SERIOUSLY HURT!?"
The sudden burst of bloodthirst sends shiver down everyone's spines. The police officers' tight grips on their arms shake, wavering. Many bystanders have their hands on their throat, wide-eyes as they gurgle, as though their throats are being choked. And perhaps the most affected is the pair of mother-and-son, both of whom quake under this... inhuman pressure and the shadow that is casted over his face as his eye glows menacingly.
Henry takes notice of it quickly and takes a deep breath, releasing the bloodthirst. He turns to both the mother and her son with a softened gaze and bows.
"My apologizes. I didn't mean to scare either of you," Henry apologizes earnestly.
The mother-and-son duo simply nods.
Midnight and the other pro-heroes quickly recover and compose themselves, with the R-Rated Hero particularly rubs her throat and calms down her nerve. She... might be looking at a threat who is far greater than that "Hero Killer". Any word coming out from her mouth should be treaded carefully.
"Big guy," Midnight calls, earning Henry's attention. "I know you have good intentions, but the law is the law. Not to mention, we had it under control—"
"You did not," Henry cuts her off coldly. "You of all people should know this trash right here—" he points at the thug who held the boy hostage "—was not bluffing when he said he was going to murder every last person here. Not that he could, but what would stop him from offing the lad? Were you able to guarantee he wouldn't put this woman's child in grave danger?"
Midnight winces, grits her teeth. She wants to retort, but she knows Henry is right. One wrong move in cases of desperate criminals and villains alike, and the result might have been catastrophic. A cornered criminal is equal to unpredictability, and she never likes to hear that word in this line of work.
"Right now, I have no bloody idea what's going on," Henry says, taking a smoke bomb and dropping it right at his feet. "However, I have places to be. So, I hope we shall meet again in more... preferable circumstances than we're at the moment. Farewell. And for Christ's sake, change your suit. It is eyes-pleasing with all those curves, I do admit, but there are children here."
Henry stomps on the smoke bomb. Then, a massive screen of thick pitch-black smoke envelopes the entire area. Everybody coughs and covers their mouths and noses. Their visions are blocked. A few moments later, the smoke finally disperses, and the man is no longer anywhere in sight.
Midnight stares at the spot where Henry stood, tuning out the alarmed calls from the police officers and her fellow heroes. Something about chasing the man who laid waste on the bank robbers before he gets away. Something tells her they are not going to catch him, despite one claiming that they can track him with the trail of blood which he left behind.
The R-Rated Hero shudders, hugging her arms, as she... recalls the gaze that he gave her. No villains in her entire career could make that kind of unnerving look, let alone the absurd bloodthirst that he gave off. She calms herself with a deep breath.
In all honesty, Midnight prays they did not make an enemy out of him...
"Today's going to a long day," Midnight murmurs, before tapping her cheeks with her palms. "Get yourself together, Nemuri. You still have work to do."
She really hates her job sometimes.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Btw, what do you think of genderbending?
Gonna ask your opinions first, since I intend to change Izuku to a girl (For no particular reason. I like genderbending, that's all ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)). Either way, see guys again soon.
