HALLOWEEN. FIVE HOURS AGO.
Bam bam badda bam badda bam badda bam badda bam badda bam.
Fast. Very fast. His fingers on each gun tensed and relaxed in almost millisecond intervals. Yet his hands remained steady, remained firm. The arms behind his hands were firmly planted behind the guns even as they kicked back and forth, yet relaxed - not a single pull of nervous tension was strung on his forearms. Clearly, the man with green eyes knew what he was doing.
So did the man with the red eyes and the devil horns. Even before each bullet was fired, he could hear the clicking of the bullets loading successively in the chambers of each gun, and could hear the almost inaudible swooshing sound of the guns moving around and aiming at him as he swiftly dodged each bullet. He flipped backwards, to the side. P-tow p-tow ,replied the bullets that chased after him. He bounced himself onto one of the alleyway walls, diving towards the other wall. P-tow p-tow. He had bounced his crimson body between both walls, pushing himself elegantly up towards the roof. P-tow p-tow. Almost instantly he disappeared into the rooftops, disappearing through the dark edges of the building. P-tow p-tow.
The man with the green eyes, however, refused to relax his aim. His eyes leading his guns across the edges of the rooftops, he was far from foolish - his dance hadn't even begun yet, but he knew his partner wasn't one to quit easy, especially before the music started. His hands were relaxed. His trigger fingers were attentively loose. The silver and black metallic barrels softly reflected the lights outside on the street as he analytically scanned his aim carefully, watching, waiting . . ..
As the soft whup hit the concrete ground behind him, the man with the green eyes spun around instinctively and whippped his guns in front of him, his fingers tensing and ready to fire. But before either of the hammers of his gun hand a chance to reel back and shoot forward, a long crimson-red cylinder launched towards his face and hit him squarely in the jaw, hard enough to send his head reeling back temporarily. Hard enough for him to lose attention for just the right amount of milliseconds as a swift kick from the crimson figure swung through his hands, kicking away the guns they held. Both his hands swung away to the green eyed man's right.
But as quickly as the silver-haired man snapped his head back, before the sounds of his guns could hit the alleyway walls, his right hand swung around to the back of his hilt and drew them out, swinging downward at the crimson-man just before he could launch a punch towards him. A horizontal swing instantaneously followed - the crimson man leaned back just as the sword passed above him; as an upward slash followed, the crimson man flipped forward, dodging the blade unscathed.
The crimson man managed to kick away Ebony and Ivory. Not an easy task by any means. Rarely has the green-eyed man lost possession of his guns in battle. Nor was it an easy task to dodge this man's blade.
Clearly, the man with the red eyes knew what he was doing, too.
That conclusion didn't stop the green-eyed man as he thrust the tip of his sword at the crimson man as he finished his evasive flip. The crimson man sidestepped the blade, but not as it managed to cause a shallow cut through the left side of his lower body.
"Aggghhh!!!!!" Not enough to stop him from throwing a left jab at the green-eyed man's face, knocking it back as a right uppercut struck his stomach. A left kick followed up on his chest to blow him back a couple feet, losing his balance as he landed on the cold concrete ground flat on his back, sword still in hand.
The man with the red eyes, the crimson man with horns on his head and the letters "DD" etched across his chest, stood firmly and coldy in front of the green-eyed eyed man, fists clenched commandingly at his side, his right hand tightly grasping a long, red stick.
The man with the green eyes grinned, looking up at his opponent's red eyes, at his opponent's two D's on his chest. He rubhed his jaw gently for a moment.
"Huh, you must be him, then," he said, pushing himself off the ground, landing squarely on his feet. "The one who pretends to be a devil. The one they say who stalks the darkness at night around these streets. The one they say is the man without fear."
Dante raised his blade, pointing the tip towards the red-eyed man. "You're Daredevil."
Daredevil coldly stared back at Dante's green eyes, his blind eyes in line with his through his mask's red eye lenses. "Good. You've figured that out. Now - WHO . . . ARE . . . YOU?!"
"Dante," he replied.
"And what the hell are you doing here?" Daredevil asked sternly.
"Huh-uh," Dante taunted in reply. "We still have a number to finish, big boy."
Daredevil's lips pursed slightly. "Fine," he spat.
The cold, autumn-night draft sifted between them as neither spoke for tense, cold, long moments. Dante refused to lower his blade at his opponent. Daredevil refused to yield his stand at his opponent . . . .
And then, snap. Drop of the dime. Both Dante and Daredevil charged at each other. Dante swung his blade downwards at Daredevil, who reacted with a dodge. Dante swung right, which connected with Daredevil's long red billy club. Pushing back against Dante's blade, Daredevil clenched his club with both hands, struggling against the force of the blade imminently ready to kill him.
Snap. Dante kicked Daredevil's left foot away, and as the crimson-eyed man lost his balance and began falling towards the ground, Dante struck Daredevil swiftly at his forehead with the hilt of his sword. As soon as Daredevil hit the ground, a vertical swing careened at his midsection. He rolled away as the blade clanged against the hard ground. Wasting no time, he launched himself back on his feet and charged at Dante again, leaping into the air at the last minute as Dante twitched. As his body arced over Dante's head, Daredevil launched half of his billy club at Dante's head, his right hand still clutching the other half.
Dante reacted by catching the club with his left hand, yanking the jumping-crimson Daredevil towards him, grabbing underneath his left arm, and throwing him out of the alleyway and onto the street. Daredevil slammed on his back when he landed from the throw, and he rolled himself into a crouch, raising his head to face a slowly approaching Dante.
Daredevil's right side was padded with the distant heat from the explosion down the street that, apparently, Dante had caused.
"People live here," Daredevil growled. "This explosion . . . .these shapeshifting demons . . . all this chaos . . . " Daredevil gritted his teeth as he stood up, Dante now merely feet away and at striking distance . . . .
". . . did you do this? Is this you?!!"
Bam bam badda bam badda bam badda bam badda bam badda bam.
Fast. Very fast. His fingers on each gun tensed and relaxed in almost millisecond intervals. Yet his hands remained steady, remained firm. The arms behind his hands were firmly planted behind the guns even as they kicked back and forth, yet relaxed - not a single pull of nervous tension was strung on his forearms. Clearly, the man with green eyes knew what he was doing.
So did the man with the red eyes and the devil horns. Even before each bullet was fired, he could hear the clicking of the bullets loading successively in the chambers of each gun, and could hear the almost inaudible swooshing sound of the guns moving around and aiming at him as he swiftly dodged each bullet. He flipped backwards, to the side. P-tow p-tow ,replied the bullets that chased after him. He bounced himself onto one of the alleyway walls, diving towards the other wall. P-tow p-tow. He had bounced his crimson body between both walls, pushing himself elegantly up towards the roof. P-tow p-tow. Almost instantly he disappeared into the rooftops, disappearing through the dark edges of the building. P-tow p-tow.
The man with the green eyes, however, refused to relax his aim. His eyes leading his guns across the edges of the rooftops, he was far from foolish - his dance hadn't even begun yet, but he knew his partner wasn't one to quit easy, especially before the music started. His hands were relaxed. His trigger fingers were attentively loose. The silver and black metallic barrels softly reflected the lights outside on the street as he analytically scanned his aim carefully, watching, waiting . . ..
As the soft whup hit the concrete ground behind him, the man with the green eyes spun around instinctively and whippped his guns in front of him, his fingers tensing and ready to fire. But before either of the hammers of his gun hand a chance to reel back and shoot forward, a long crimson-red cylinder launched towards his face and hit him squarely in the jaw, hard enough to send his head reeling back temporarily. Hard enough for him to lose attention for just the right amount of milliseconds as a swift kick from the crimson figure swung through his hands, kicking away the guns they held. Both his hands swung away to the green eyed man's right.
But as quickly as the silver-haired man snapped his head back, before the sounds of his guns could hit the alleyway walls, his right hand swung around to the back of his hilt and drew them out, swinging downward at the crimson-man just before he could launch a punch towards him. A horizontal swing instantaneously followed - the crimson man leaned back just as the sword passed above him; as an upward slash followed, the crimson man flipped forward, dodging the blade unscathed.
The crimson man managed to kick away Ebony and Ivory. Not an easy task by any means. Rarely has the green-eyed man lost possession of his guns in battle. Nor was it an easy task to dodge this man's blade.
Clearly, the man with the red eyes knew what he was doing, too.
That conclusion didn't stop the green-eyed man as he thrust the tip of his sword at the crimson man as he finished his evasive flip. The crimson man sidestepped the blade, but not as it managed to cause a shallow cut through the left side of his lower body.
"Aggghhh!!!!!" Not enough to stop him from throwing a left jab at the green-eyed man's face, knocking it back as a right uppercut struck his stomach. A left kick followed up on his chest to blow him back a couple feet, losing his balance as he landed on the cold concrete ground flat on his back, sword still in hand.
The man with the red eyes, the crimson man with horns on his head and the letters "DD" etched across his chest, stood firmly and coldy in front of the green-eyed eyed man, fists clenched commandingly at his side, his right hand tightly grasping a long, red stick.
The man with the green eyes grinned, looking up at his opponent's red eyes, at his opponent's two D's on his chest. He rubhed his jaw gently for a moment.
"Huh, you must be him, then," he said, pushing himself off the ground, landing squarely on his feet. "The one who pretends to be a devil. The one they say who stalks the darkness at night around these streets. The one they say is the man without fear."
Dante raised his blade, pointing the tip towards the red-eyed man. "You're Daredevil."
Daredevil coldly stared back at Dante's green eyes, his blind eyes in line with his through his mask's red eye lenses. "Good. You've figured that out. Now - WHO . . . ARE . . . YOU?!"
"Dante," he replied.
"And what the hell are you doing here?" Daredevil asked sternly.
"Huh-uh," Dante taunted in reply. "We still have a number to finish, big boy."
Daredevil's lips pursed slightly. "Fine," he spat.
The cold, autumn-night draft sifted between them as neither spoke for tense, cold, long moments. Dante refused to lower his blade at his opponent. Daredevil refused to yield his stand at his opponent . . . .
And then, snap. Drop of the dime. Both Dante and Daredevil charged at each other. Dante swung his blade downwards at Daredevil, who reacted with a dodge. Dante swung right, which connected with Daredevil's long red billy club. Pushing back against Dante's blade, Daredevil clenched his club with both hands, struggling against the force of the blade imminently ready to kill him.
Snap. Dante kicked Daredevil's left foot away, and as the crimson-eyed man lost his balance and began falling towards the ground, Dante struck Daredevil swiftly at his forehead with the hilt of his sword. As soon as Daredevil hit the ground, a vertical swing careened at his midsection. He rolled away as the blade clanged against the hard ground. Wasting no time, he launched himself back on his feet and charged at Dante again, leaping into the air at the last minute as Dante twitched. As his body arced over Dante's head, Daredevil launched half of his billy club at Dante's head, his right hand still clutching the other half.
Dante reacted by catching the club with his left hand, yanking the jumping-crimson Daredevil towards him, grabbing underneath his left arm, and throwing him out of the alleyway and onto the street. Daredevil slammed on his back when he landed from the throw, and he rolled himself into a crouch, raising his head to face a slowly approaching Dante.
Daredevil's right side was padded with the distant heat from the explosion down the street that, apparently, Dante had caused.
"People live here," Daredevil growled. "This explosion . . . .these shapeshifting demons . . . all this chaos . . . " Daredevil gritted his teeth as he stood up, Dante now merely feet away and at striking distance . . . .
". . . did you do this? Is this you?!!"