It was already dark regardless of still being the middle of the day. The icy wind was blowing through his form making his exposed skin numb. Maybe that's one of the reasons Jason hated winters. Because you lose control of your own body.
After long hours of driving he finally arrived at the dead city and slowly took his motorcycle through the direction of an empty unlighted streets. He knew better than to use his headlights because even the Red Hood got chills from a place like this, let alone now when it was only Jason on the motor without his full equipment and he had no place for mistakes. Of course he was prepared for a possible fight but not capable to predict if there was an eventual set up and he really wasn't sure what, where and if he should be expecting one.
The SMS he received yesterday was directed to Jason Todd so he couldn't risk blowing up his secret identity. He didn't know why he came here in the first place. Maybe his curiosity just clouded his better judgement. Jason had never been in this town before. Years ago there had been an explosion here, caused by a sick brain wanting popularity. This man killed hundreds of people but is currently safe and alive serving imprisonment for life. That Jason couldn't understand and maybe he never would… how did people like that man deserve to be left to live?
He slowed down a little more because after the incident nobody cared to renovate the city, maybe because more of half of the population had been killed that day and for the other half it must have been too traumatizing to even just carry the memory. And nowadays the road was full of pot-holes which Jason couldn't always see on time and despite luck being on his side today as the moon light found its way through the clear sky, without his Red Hood helm on he couldn't see very good through the darkness. Worst was – the full moon illuminated the city but somehow this faint light managed to give this place even more sinister look.
While watching the remains of the buildings the blood inside Jason began to boil; Jason didn't kill for fun, nobody understood that. He killed because the world needed clearing and a few were capable of doing so. He knew where the dividing line was. But the man who did this deserved nothing else but death sentence.
He finally arrived at the building that had to be the warehouse. Somehow this building was still in good repair, but visibly uninhabitable. Jason squeezed through a broken window but because of the darkness he wasn't able to see that pieces of the glass were sticking out. He couldn't help but hiss from the pain as one of the pieces cut into his jacket and right into his arm. He lost balance but managed to get down on the floor as silently as possible but he was sure that whoever was awaiting him had already heard him. Enough with keeping his arrival a surprise.
He didn't move, just listened. Everything was still and black. Hell he didn't see anything. And there was also this heavy smell… of gas? Was this someone going to blow him up here inside the warehouse?! Unintentionally painful memories flashed before his eyes. He was not thinking about that now. A few deep breaths later Jason moved forward, once again thinking clearly and determined to find out who was playing around with him.
It was useless to walk around in the darkness not knowing where the threat might be, because whoever was expecting him knew he was already here so he brought out his bright flashlight illuminating his surroundings.
He barely didn't drop it as it turned out that a boy was standing just a few meters away from him observing all his moves.
"Who are you?" asked Jason directing the light at the kid's eyes, trying to decide if he was going to play it the good or the bad guy with the boy.
The kid hid his face with his hands, blocking the light away, and taking a few steps back. The boy's back was resting on the wall when he suddenly stretched his hand and switched the light in the room on.
Jason was surprised that there was even electricity in the warehouse, but then again every big building has its own energy supply.
Jason towed the flashlight away but now on its spot in his hand was his M1911 pistol directed straight at the kids head.
"Listen carefully, when I ask you something, I expect a short and explicit answer. And no more moving."
The kid on the other hand didn't look distressed at all that there was a gun pulled at him. Neither did it made a sign that he heard Jason. The boy simply continued starring with blank expression. That made Jason lose it.
"I asked - who are you! Are you the one who called me here?" he hissed through gritted teeth trying to keep control over himself and not just shoot him.
Just before Jason was about to explode, the kid spoke with calm soft voice:
"My name is Tristan Haywood."