DISCLAIMER: I do not, I repeat, do not own any Daredevil and related Marvel
characters. They belong to the honorable Stan Lee. *bows and grovels in
respect* Thanks! Toodle pip! *curtsies and exits gracelessly*
Chapter 2:
You cringe as the sound of nails on a chalkboard echoed through your bedroom while you worked. Looking up, you saw Bullseye outside your window.
You stood up and walked over to the window. He motioned you to open it. You opened it a crack and said, "Did you need something? I'm busy."
He shoved the next day's edition of The New York Post in your face. "So you're gonna try to track me? The little girl who still bears injuries from our last meeting is going to follow the Bullseye?" he said gruffly.
"Yeah, sounds about right. Unless you'll let me interview you everyday, I'll just have to follow you. How'd you get that edition, anyhow?" you said.
"Magic. Now take care of yourself, little miss. You still made me miss. And I never miss," he threatened.
"That's not entirely true. Daredevil made you miss many times in the past, hasn't he?"
"Why you-"
"How're your hands?" you asked, changing the subject quickly, seeing he was getting testy.
He held them up. "Completely healed."
"Really? That's not what I see," you said, as soon as his hands began to bleed. "You might wanna get home to tend them. Don't want them to get infected, now, do ya?" You shut the window before he could do anything to you and went to bed.
Chapter 2:
You cringe as the sound of nails on a chalkboard echoed through your bedroom while you worked. Looking up, you saw Bullseye outside your window.
You stood up and walked over to the window. He motioned you to open it. You opened it a crack and said, "Did you need something? I'm busy."
He shoved the next day's edition of The New York Post in your face. "So you're gonna try to track me? The little girl who still bears injuries from our last meeting is going to follow the Bullseye?" he said gruffly.
"Yeah, sounds about right. Unless you'll let me interview you everyday, I'll just have to follow you. How'd you get that edition, anyhow?" you said.
"Magic. Now take care of yourself, little miss. You still made me miss. And I never miss," he threatened.
"That's not entirely true. Daredevil made you miss many times in the past, hasn't he?"
"Why you-"
"How're your hands?" you asked, changing the subject quickly, seeing he was getting testy.
He held them up. "Completely healed."
"Really? That's not what I see," you said, as soon as his hands began to bleed. "You might wanna get home to tend them. Don't want them to get infected, now, do ya?" You shut the window before he could do anything to you and went to bed.