Chapter 1: The Inferno


Eric Suit Up - Burn by the Cure

Eric's Hunt - Dead Souls by Nine Inch Nails

Eric vs Tin Tin - Death Epic theme (Puss in Boots)


-Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan, New York-

Thunder rolled, lightning crashed and rain fell as the night of October 30th—also known as Devil's Night—came upon its most haunting hour.

On this night, in a house on a crowded street, somewhere in the state of New York, a family resided. But all was not quiet and peaceful on this night, no, something horrible—unspeakable even—had occurred.

Specifically, a family of three had been murdered along with a plus one.

On the scene was a young African teenager of 17 years of age. He had short black hair, brown eyes and stood at 6'3". He was wearing a short sleeved blue shirt, a pair of black shorts and a pair of simple black sneakers. He was also wearing a pair of specialized goggles.

Around him were police officers and cleanup crew tending to the scene after the teen had alerted the police to what happened.

"Kid's sixteenth birthday party was supposed to be tomorrow night." One of the officers noted. "Who the fuck plans a birthday party on Halloween Night?" He wondered aloud.

"Someone who has a taste for the darker things in life." The teen replied, looking down at the body of a gothic looking teenage boy who had been thrown to his death from the third story window.

"Sir, we gotta move them." A paramedic told the head cop as he tried to resuscitate the mother and plus one, a girl named Shelly–the Father being beyond saving already.

"Do it." The lead officer ordered, and the paramedics got to work. Then he turned his attention back to the teen. "Thanks for bringing this to our attention, kid. Mind giving me your name?" He added, thanking the teen while making a small request.

"Darryl Alberecht." The now named Darrylreplied.

"You Roman and Frieda's kid?" The officer asked, recognizing the boy's last name.

"Yeah I am." The goggled teen nodded in reply before looking at the crime scene. "What the hell would have prompted a bunch of maniacs to do this?" He wondered before shaking his head. "Forget it. Maniacs do shit like this 'cause they're dumb enough to think it's fun." He sighed.

"That's unfortunately true." The police chief sighed in agreement.

Later outside the victims were all being loaded up into an ambulance when a girl came riding up on a skateboard, holding a white Turkish Angora cat.

"Are they going to be okay?" She questioned, prompting Darryl to notice her.

"Oh… hey, Sarah." He nodded, recalling meeting her a few times around town. "I'm not sure. It all looks bad." He added with a shake of his head.

"You're lying, I can tell." Sarah said, calling his bluff. "You know what'll happen." She added as they watched the ambulance leave.

"... Yeah." Darryl nodded reluctantly. "Do you know these people?" He asked as they left the scene, the sound of the sirens and flicker of the lights getting ever further.

"Yeah. I swing by and hang out with them… Or, well, I used to, now." The blonde sighed, amending her reply at the end.

It was then that a small object fluttered and landed on the girl's beanie, causing the two to look and see that a fledgling crow had perched itself on her hat, it was rather small. Even for a young bird.

"Hey, it's Edgar." Sarah sighed in relief as the small bird hopped down her hoodie and nestled inside it.

"That little guy must love you a lot." Darryl remarked.

"Oh, you don't even know." The girl chuckled in response. "He is, well, was Eric's pet." She explained.

"Huh." The boy nodded as the girl stroked the bird.

"Do you know the story about crows?" Sarah asked, petting Edgar's head as he cuddled her.

"Which one?" Darryl asked, not knowing what she was talking about.

"They say that crows help guide the souls of the dead to the land of the dead." Sarah explained as they stopped by a hotdog spot. "But sometimes things happen that are so bad that a terrible sadness is carried with it, and the soul can't rest. So sometimes, only sometimes, they bring the souls back–to set the wrong things right." She added.

"And you think Edgar might bring Eric back?" Darryl deduced, getting a nod in return. "Well, better hold onto him, then." He told her.

"Yeah, yeah, I will." The girl nodded as the two ordered two hot dogs together, a kind and innocent moment–juxtaposed by the horrific, hellish, screaming insanity that was that night.


(Timeskip)

A year later Darryl sighed as he walked down the streets of New York to the Plaza Hotel after school on a cold October afternoon, a fresh rain mist washing the wind as it blew past him and hit his jacket.

The year had been good to the young man, but like with any other person's year, it had its flaws. He tried up to seven times to find a girlfriend in his age group. All of them were failures, which was a serious emotional blow to him. He knew he wasn't gay since he kept trying after the fourth failure.

No, he soon found that after the seventh failed attempt, and being comforted by his math teacher, that while he didn't click with girls his age, older women were a different story. Yes, he was a cougar hunter.

And right now, he was currently on his way to meet his first cougar girlfriend in their usual hotel room for a Friday night date.

He was dressed in a pair of jeans, a white shirt, a letterman jacket and a pair of sneakers. Additionally he was also wearing a pair of special made shaded glasses.

'Alright, let's see if she's here.' He thought to himself as he entered the lobby, getting the doorman's attention.

"Welcome to the Plaza Hotel. Are you here for a room?" He inquired.

"Someone is expecting me, and I'm here to meet them." Darryl replied.

"The name of the person you are here to meet?" The man requested.

"She should have the room under 'Balalaika'." The boy explained. The receptionist nodded as he typed on his computer.

"Ah yes, here it is." The man nodded, handing him a key. "You'll find her in her usual suite, room 411." He added.

"Thank you." Darryl nodded before he went into the elevator and ascended to the fourth floor. Once there, he started looking around for his cougar's room and found it after a bit. Opening it with the key, he went in and closed the door where he was greeted with…

"Glad you could make it, Darryl." A Russian woman's voice purred.

Turning towards a luxurious love seat in the living room, the teenager saw a tall, blonde haired, blue-eyed woman, with scars on the right side of her face, neck, right bosom, and right leg. Her hair was very long, going down to the base of her spine, and done up in a huge ponytail. She also had a mole under her left eye and her nails and lips were painted red.

She was a voluptuous woman in her mid-thirties, with a DD-cup rack and a peach shaped ass, she also had a pair of sexy legs to go with it.

Her attire (if it could be called that) consisted of nothing but tape to cover her nipples, black leather panties and black boots.

"You know I have ways of making time for you, Sofiya." The boy smirked as he walked up to her.

The blonde smiled as she stood up and lifted his chin up with her finger, both of their eyes lidded as she kissed him, her tongue slipping right into the boy's mouth, initiating a passionate make out session.

As they grew more passionate, their clothes went flying everywhere as they started going wild.


(Later)

Darryl and Sofiya both panted heavily as they laid on the bed, both completely naked and covered in sweat and other bodily fluids. The sheets of the bed were completely disheveled.

"As… Usual… my darling. You never disappoint." The Russian business woman sighed as she sat up on her side, resting her cheek on her hand, her leg draped over the teen's waist.

"I aim to please." The teen sighed in reply as he wrapped an arm around his waist, his hand touching one of her scars. Sofiya smiled as she pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

As the two looked into each other's eyes, the blonde took off the boy's glasses, revealing that his eyes weren't normal.

Now his irises were silver and his pupils were a shimmering color, almost like a mother of pearl clam shell, giving them a truly Starry appearance.

"There are my звезды [stars]." She smiled, stroking his cheek.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're about to tell me something that you're stalling?" Darryl questioned, his eyes allowing him to see how her body temperature was rising and her heart sped up, while also being able to see a gray image of her in the darkness, almost like he had thermal vision, night vision and x-ray vision all at once.

Sofiya was silent for a moment before sighing.

"As much as it pains me to say, but I think we should break up." The cougar began. "There's so much between us that could lead to trouble, and I don't want you hurt." She continued.

"I know, and you're right." Darryl sighed. "But let's stay in contact. I can serve as a bodyguard in the event you need me for anything that requires my talents." He added.

"That I can agree with." The woman smiled as she kissed him one last time.

However, their moment of intimacy was interrupted when there came a tapping, as if someone gently wrapping, wrapping at their room door.

Darryl got up and walked over to the door and opened it, and found Sarah–now at the ripe age of thirteen–standing there. "Sarah? What are you doing here?" He questioned.

"It's Eric's grave, it's been raised!" She exclaimed frantically, startling the African teen.

"What?! By who?!" He questioned.

"I don't know! I only found out when I visited his grave!" The girl replied, on the verge of panic.

"Dog shit, Cat shit, Rat shit!" The young man cursed as he quickly grabbed his clothes and headed out, but not before giving Sofiya another kiss. "I love you." He told her.

"And I you." The woman smiled before she ushered him on his way. "Now go. You have a grave to investigate." She told him. "I'll be sure to let you know if your skillset is needed, and trust me when I say I pay well." She added with a grin.

Darryl nodded as he headed outside, running after Sarah into the cold.


(Elsewhere)

Hours before this in the local cemetery, there were four graves. Four stones marking the resting places of four victims. Their names: Edward, Caroline and Eric Draven, and Shelly. Four souls lost, four innocent bloods spilled, one missing bell toll.

This was because Eric's grave had indeed been raised, but the way it was done confirmed the lack of an outside involvement. It was as if Eric himself had come back this night and forced his way out, something that shouldn't be possible after a year…

At least, under normal circumstances.

Perched atop the stone above Eric's grave was a now grown Edgar, and he was watching as the teen pushed himself out of the ground, screaming and wailing as he rose–memories of that night flashing before him–and the flashes of lightning revealing his appearance.

He looked like he did when he was alive, unbelievably pale, even having what some would call gray skin, brown hair, and naturally blue lips, his eyes were also an odd color: navy blue. His clothes were the same as when he did, but his shirt definitely needed to be replaced.

The young man crawled out of his grave, jerking and shaking from the cold as everything came flooding back to him, all while his body was actively repairing itself of rigor mortis–and the first thing he saw–were the graves.

"I'll… make… them… pay…" He panted, having a vague memory of what happened. He then began fumbling and stumbling his way back to the last place he remembered, picking up a pair of boots on his way there and discarding most of his damaged clothes–until he reached the apartment.

After tearing off the hazard tape the police left behind, he entered and looked around. It was still the same as it was when he was last here: wrecked. Furniture was damaged, glass was shattered, the list goes on.

It was here that the boy soon felt everything rush back. Fun Boy kicking down the door, Tin Tin and Tom Tom blindsiding his mother and father, while the former threw a knife to incapacitate the man so he and Tom Tom could have their way with Caroline. T-Bird's taunting, Fun Boy and his pals grabbing and ravaging the mother in front of them in a three way, forcing her on all fours on the bed.

T-Bird, meanwhile, had Edward forced against a stained glass window that overlooked the town at gunpoint, forcing him to watch as his wife was treated like a common whore.

This continued for over an hour before the gang, satisfied with the completely defiled woman under them, before they kicked her down the stairs, leaving her barely alive. Then the leader turned to the husband who tried to attack him, before shooting him six times and sending him crashing out the window.

"Damn, that was awesome." One of the deranged teens chuckled, right as Eric and Shelly arrived at the front door.

Oh if they'd only stayed put…

Then they had their way with Shelly after they shot Eric when he tried to stop them, even going so far as to throw him out of the window to meet his father–making sure he died brutally.

It was these moments that kickstarted something in Eric, something that seemed to connect him to Edgar beyond the supernatural link they had when he first rose–this felt different.

Genetic code, chromosomes and DNA all warped and meshed with the power of the bond between victim and corvid companion, resulting in something more–Eric Draven would not die a second time. No. He never had to fear death again.

Because now, he would become death.


(Elsewhere)

Back with Darryl and Sarah, they were investigating Eric's grave, and upon getting a good look, the shaded teen could confirm something.

"It was definitely raised, but it was from inside the casket." He noted with a frown. "But Eric should be bones by now. This shouldn't be possible." He added.

"The dead shouldn't be able to rise, period, Darryl." Sarah pointed out.

"Touche." Theshaded man shrugged. "But that begs the question: Where'd Eric go, if he's really back?" He wondered.

"I don't know, and I'm not sure I want to know." The girl said as darkness fell, and rain started to pour.

"Come on, you can crash at my place." He told her as he led the girl out of the cold.


(Elsewhere)

Back with Eric, he was still rummaging around what was left of his apartment to remember what he could since he was still drawing blanks on some of his memories. After a bit, he came to a vanity set his mother liked to use and looked at the mime mask hanging on a hook… If it could even be called such.

More memories flashed back as he remembered his father playing tricks on him with that mask, and how Eric himself would copy the mask's expressions with his naturally mime-like face, which always got Shelly and his mom to laugh.

His father even joked that he could become a gothic mime once.

More and more memories flooded back to him as he flipped through the various memento moris, until he shoved the contents aside and punched the mirror… only for his pain to be minimal, and his wounds to rewind back to where he was never hurt.

This thing, whatever it was inside him that Edgar had unlocked, had made him… Immortal.

"What the hell…?" He whispered to himself in confusion. Shaking his head, he looked at the mime mask again and an idea came to mind. Going to the wardrobe, he pulled out a box and opened it, pulling on a black long sleeve synthetic shirt, black jean pants, and then started working on modifying a gray hoodie with his mom and Shelly's sewing materials. The end result was a gray hoodie with red interior lining and a feathered and beaked hood.

He looked over his handiwork and nodded in satisfaction. Now he just had to deal with the second part of it. He then performed a parkour vaulting flip onto the roof before he slid ran across the roof and slid down a light pole and arrived at a Hell's Kitchen shop called Man and Arms Knife and Blade company.

Going inside the building by jimmying the lock, he proceeded to pick up various knives and bladed weapons, before he went over to the forging materials, grabbed some–and went to the forge.

Hammer strikes could be heard and sparks could be seen flying as the boy got to work. Billowing flames and excruciating heat roared around him as he forged his weapon–pouring every ounce of grief, hate, sadness, sorrow, despair, and malice into every strike of his hammer.

These would be his instruments, to play a symphony of death, when it came time.

As he worked, however, he made a new discovery about himself: He had a talent for forging, since he was pretty meticulous about the work he was putting into his creations. Right down to the mechanism that would deploy his new weapon simply by tensing his forearms and flicking his wrists.

"Everything is permitted." He mused to himself before he began forging on another weapon, this time a sword. The sword itself took some time to create, but it was worth it when the piece was done.

It looked to be a double edged sword in similar style to a claymore, but it was considerably smaller than the average sword of the same type. Its blade was fullered four times and its handle wrapped in thin wire cable, while it also has a crow head on the pommel.

As he finished these weapons, he put them on. His sword was in a scabbard on his back and his Hidden Blades on his arms under his sleeves. He also strapped throwing knives, push knives and a couple combat knives to his legs and belt–before leaving the shop, Edgar landing on his shoulder.


(Elsewhere)

Meanwhile, with Darryl and Sarah, the two were now investigating the Draven's old apartment for any clues as to where Eric might have gone. So far, other than it looked like someone had been here recently (probably Eric, since the police tape was gone), there wasn't a whole lot to find.

As they looked around, they heard a meow and looked to see Gabriel walking up to them.

"There you are, Gabriel." Sarah sighed as she picked up the cat. "I was worried about you." She added as Darryl looked out the window, trying to locate Draven with his enhanced sight.

"Hm…" He hummed as he looked around, but couldn't find anything to help him out. "No good. I can't see him. He's probably outside my vision range, some other building or both." He sighed, shaking his head.

"Guess we'll have to keep looking somewhere else, then." The girl sighed as she held Gabriel. "Come on, let's go." Told him.

"Right." Darryl nodded as he walked away with her.


(Elsewhere)

Meanwhile, Eric–now armed with his new weapons and other gear he snagged from stores–was running through the alleys of Hell's Kitchen before he ran to a wall and did a double face parkour jump and grabbing a ledge before running on a roof, vaulting over objects almost effortlessly and on instinct–because he could see a route through Edgar's eyes as the corvid bird flew overhead.

Then he started running along the rooftops, and since his route went along a cluster of buildings, he had little worry of coming across a gap he couldn't clear. After a bit, Edgar descended into an alley… Where he saw Tin Tin walking.

The teen charged towards the ledge above Tin Tin and performed a leap of faith off the building, and landing on a pile of garbage bags before he couldn't help but laugh as he got up, running towards where Tin Tin was to jump assassinate the man with one of his Hidden Blades–only for the thug to dodge and cause Eric to rollover his shoulders–making them face each other.

"You think you're slick, motherfucker?!" The thug taunted, obviously not recognizing Eric. "What's with the costume, freak? Halloween ain't till manana." He added, brandishing one of his switchblades.

Eric simply stood up, arms open as Edgar landed on his shoulder, blades extended and sword brandished. He also allowed the firearms GLOCK 93, UZI submachine gun, 20 gauge shotgun, etc, various knives, grenades, and rope darts to be visible.

Again, armed to the teeth.

"Walkin' gunshow motherfucker right here…" Tin Tin said as he readied his weapons.

"Quite." Eric shrugged. "But you don't deserve to have me use these on you." He added condescending, trying to goad him into attacking first.

"Bitch ass little punk!" The man growled as he hurled a knife at Eric, only for him to dodge it. Then another knife was thrown, which was deflected. And then a third was actually caught by the boy, and returned to sender.

Tin Tin grunted as he was pinned to the dumpster by his own knife in his shoulder, and Eric approached him slowly. As he did, he whistled a tune the was ominous in nature, but Tin Tin ignored it.

"Too slow, punk!" He yelled as he pulled the knife with a yell before charging at Eric, tackling him to the ground before the two started brawling, the boy socking the thug in the jaw while Tin Tin kicked him in the gut–only for the teen to turn the tables by spartan kick him to a wall and pin him, his left hidden blade at Tin Tin's throat and the second in his face.

"Slow and steady wins the race." The teen told him. "A year ago, you killed a family of three and a girl. Cut the mother, and raped her with three other guys before moving onto the girl. You remember that?" He growled.

"Yeah yeah, some dude, some punk ass kid, a little bitch and a hot ass MILF with a nice mouth, what about it?" The thug questioned, only to tense when Eric dug his left blade dangerously close to going through his lower jaw.

"Take a good. Long. Look. At me." The goth told him slowly, gritting his teeth in anger. "See anything familiar?" He questioned.

The dreadlocked African man looked at the boy and saw a gray skinned and blue lipped face looking back at him—and it wasn't because of makeup.

"Son of a bitch." The man uttered in surprise, but didn't seem too horrified, or worried—more baffled than anything.

"Aren't we all?" Eric said as he raised his fist and drove his blades into Tin Tin.


(Elsewhere)

Meanwhile in an underground club that T-Bird and his pals hung out at, the man in question was currently in the process of checking up with the second in command of his boss Top Dollar, a man by the name of Grange.

"What's the word?" Grange questioned.

"Arcade games tipped over and went boom." T-Bird replied with a grin on his face.

"Boom." The bespectacled man parroted.

"Can you imagine that? It's tragic." T-Bird sighed mockingly as he lit a cigarette.

"Anything else of note?" Grange asked.

"Yeah, actually." T-Bird nodded. "You hear about what happened in the cemetery last night? The grave that got pushed out?" He questioned, puffing his cigarette.

"I did. Strange occurrence, that." The second in command mused in reply. "One must wonder what caused it." He added.

"Could be anything, what with it being so close to Halloween…" The man shrugged. "Anyway, the boss man in, yet?" He asked.

"Yeah. He's in a meeting. You can head on in when he finishes." Grange nodded in reply.


(Elsewhere)

Meanwhile in what looked to be a bedroom, the crime boss known as Top Dollar, nephew of the notorious Wilson Fiske, aka Kingpin, was sitting on his bed while he examined a snow globe in his hand—a naked woman laying still on the bed next to him.

In the bathroom adjacent to the room, a woman with long raven black hair and a voluptuous figure, complete with a heart shaped ass, was taking a shower.

This was Myca, Top Dollar's half sister… Or so the rumors said.

Myca walked into the room, draped in only an emerald green robe as she sat on the bed next to the pimp in question, hugging his head close into her ample D-cup bosom.

"You are troubled." She noted softly.

"Heard about an upturned grave, got me thinking about this." Top replied as he showed her a snow globe of a cemetery. "Dad gave me this, on my fifth birthday. He said, "childhood's over, when ya know you're gonna die"." He added.

"You think an omen has appeared." Myca said, her voice still soft.

"Omen? Maybe. Sign that this year's gonna be different? Yeah." The man replied as the woman kissed him on the forehead before looking at the woman next to him.

"I like her eyes. They're pretty." The supposed half sister commented, turning the woman on her back. She didn't react.

"I think we broke her." The long haired man commented idly.


(Elsewhere)

Meanwhile, after a bit of fruitless searching, Darryl and Sarah decided to try and grab something to eat at the same hot dog stand that they went to the night the Draven family massacre occurred.

"You two look like you just failed at something." The stand owner commented as he got some hot dogs ready for them.

"We were trying to find someone, but he's been eluding us all day." Sarah explained.

"Despite the evidence pointing us in the right directions." Darryl sighed.

"There's a pain in the ass if I've ever heard one." The man remarked as he gave them their food. "Haven't seen anything here, though, so I got nothing." He added.

The two kids sighed and Darryl decided to change the subject.

"So where's your mom?" He asked.

"Doing her own thing, as usual." The blonde replied in irritation. Her mom almost never stuck around to actually take care of her, and was often doing whatever she wanted… Including, but not limited to, doing drugs.

"You should really come stay with us, Sarah. You can't keep living like this." The Seer told her.

"I know, I know… I'm just hoping to try and turn things around before it comes to that." Sarah sighed, and it was clear she knew that if she didn't figure out how to straighten her mom out soon, she'd have to move out and start rooming with someone else.

Unbeknownst to the two, someone was watching them.

Perched on a building like a gargoyle, Eric watched the two with Edgar preening himself—his vision a dark blue and black, with the two being highlighted in gold.

"Come on, let's go." He sighed as he got up, running to his next map point.


(Later)

It was later that night and Sarah was being walked home by Darryl, when they came upon a spot in town where high foot traffic was common, especially during Halloween trick or treating.

And what they saw caused the young blonde to scream.

It was Tin Tin's dead body, and it was hanging from a light pole in the middle of the square. There were two knives shoved into his eyes and he was hanging from several rope darts that pierced all his vital spots.

"Son of a bitch, what the fuck happened here?!" The Seer cursed, feeling disturbed by what he was looking at. Sarah then started pointing at something, which he turned to look at.

It was an image of a crow, and it was spray painted on the wall behind where Tin Tin was hanging, as if to serve as a calling card for who did the deed.

"You don't think…" She trailed off, her voice shaky.

"I think it was." Darryl confirmed, quickly taking out his phone and dialing 911. "Hello? Captain Hook? This is Darryl Albrecht." He told the person on the other end. "I'd like to report a murder, and I think I may know the culprit." He added.


(Elsewhere)

Back with Eric, he had just reached Gideon's Pawn Shop. Walking up to the door, he forcibly pried open the gate and rapped on the screen of the door.

"Hey! Piss off! We're closed!" Gideon yelled from inside, only for Eric to knock again. "Goddamn, creatures of the night, they never learn." He groaned. "Go home! Unless you wanna get mutilated." He added as he grabbed a revolver.

Growing impatient with the man's attitude, the teen smashed his way through the glass on the door, causing Gideon himself to scream in panic.

"And so I heard a tapping, as if someone was gently wrapping, wrapping at my chamber door." The teen in black said as he stalked into the shop.

"Wh-What're you talking about?" Gideon questioned in a frightened tone as the crow from before dived at him.

"You heard me wrapping, right?" The teen questioned.

"You're trespassing! And you owe me a fucking new door!" The man yelled, pointing at the busted door.

"I'm looking for something like a wedding ring. Two of them." The figure stated. "And an engagement ring, a gold one." He added.

"You're looking for a carpenter, shit for brains!" Gideon yelled as he pulled a revolver and blasted the boy in the chest… only for his eyes to widen in horror as the wound disappeared in seconds, as if rewinding itself. "Shit on me… Shit on me! " He gasped.

The gray skinned boy then grinned as he grabbed Gideon by the face and then hurled him over the front desk, causing him to hit the wall.

Then the gothic teen started getting progressively more violent, growing impatient and irate as he kept trying to find whatever he was looking for.

Gideon yelled as he swung something on the counter, but missed the intruder, only for him to dangle from the ceiling beside him.

"Mr. Gideon." The Gothic teen said, causing him to turn around. "You're not paying attention." He added before punching the man in the face.

As the man fumbled on the display case, the boy suddenly broke it, taking a K-Bar knife and stabbing it in the pawn shop owner's hand, causing him to yell.

"AHHHH! FUCK! My hand!" Gideon yelled in pain, before the boy covered his mouth.

"I repeat. A pair of silver wedding rings and a gold engagement ring. One with western designs, one with jade and emeralds. Where are they?! Where are the rings?!" The teen demanded.

"What do you care?!" The man snapped as the boy walked to the back, pressing himself against the wall fencing.

"A customer of yours sold it to you a year ago. A man named Tin Tin." The boy stated. "He told me that before he ran out of breath." He added, looking at his corvid companion who was pecking Gideon as he tried to get his hand free. "Didn't he, Edgar?" He asked the bird. "He confided in me before he ran out of breath." He hissed.

"Alright, alright!" Gideon conceded with a small whine. "They're in the back on the bottom of a shelf in a metal case!" He added. "Go ahead and choke on' em, ya crazy bastard!" He yelled as the boy left him for a moment.

"I like this knife." The boy mused as he slid it into a sheathe on his boot. "I'm keeping it." He added, before he started dousing the table in gas while holding a shotgun in Gideon's face. "Now you're gonna tell me where to find T-Bird and the rest of his little party pals!" He yelled.

"I-I don't know! They left the city, what, a month ago?!" Gideon replied, trembling in fear. "They're probably at the Heap. T-Bird and Tin Tin, they hang out there. Funboy, he lives up top!" He added.

"Funboy…" Eric mused with a growl as he closed his eyes, before flinging rings at the man. "Each one of these is a life you helped destroy. So now you will pay a recompense." He continued.

"Please! Don't kill me, alright?!" He begged.

"I won't." The boy states, his pet crow on his shoulder. "Your job will be to tell them that death comes for them tonight. Tell them the Crow sends his regards." He added as he started to leave.

"You'll be nothing but street grease, you mother fucker!" The man yelled.

"Is that gasoline I smell?" Eric asked before strutting out.

On his way out, he held his shotgun up and then blasted the place with buckshot, igniting flammable liquids on the floor. The end result?

BOOM!

The pawn shop went up in flames. Gideon, who was trying to escape through the back, was blasted out the door. When he regained his senses after a moment, he started panicking when he saw that his leg was on fire and tried to put it out.

Meanwhile, Eric was walking away when…

"Hey!" Darryl barked as he approached, a pair of Ulaks in his hands like he was ready to fight. Eric turned his attention to him upon hearing his voice.

"It's not a good time to be out tonight. Best be on your way home." He said to the goggled teen, lighting himself a rum flavored cigarillo.

"Thanks for the concern, but I'm not scared of a couple of morons hiding in an alley." The African boy retorted. "You got a reason for blowing up a pawn shop?" He questioned.

"This man was pawning off goods robbed from innocent people and the dead." Eric stated, again puffing on his roll of tobacco. "It isn't an establishment that will be missed." He added.

"Uh huh…" Darryl hummed, though whether it was meant for Eric's words or what Gideon was doing was unclear. "Just drop the weapons and sit on the curb." He instructed, trying to sound like he was giving an order, but the gothic figure in front of him was nonplussed.

"Death comes tonight, to play a solemn tune. And I come to herald its arrival." Eric sighed, turning to face Darryl as he neared a puddle in the middle of the road. "Be glad that it doesn't come for you." He stated before Edgar flew to his shoulder and a swarm of crows suddenly started swirling around him—and moments later—he disappeared.

The Seer was left there, standing around as he tried to look for his target but came up empty.

"The hell…?" He uttered in confusion and bewilderment.


(Elsewhere)

Meanwhile, back with Top Dollar and Myca, Grange walked into the room with T-Bird while the woman was making out with the man before her, laying down on the table.

Burning in a candle holder on the table was… an eyeball. One that was most likely gouged out from the woman in Top Dollar's bedroom.

"Gideon's pawn shop just went up in smoke. Right down to the foundation." The bespectacled man explained.

"And one of my guy's, Tin Tin, was strung up in town square with rope darts and had his knives sticking in his eyes and vital organs in alphabetical order." T-Bird added.

"That is rather unfortunate. Let us have a moment of silence for Tin Tin." TD said in faux sympathy. He honestly didn't care one way or the other for his people much. "Anyone know who did all this?" He questioned.

"Someone called the Crow seems to claim to have done it." Grange explained.

"The Crow…" The man hummed with minor interest. "I don't know anyone by that name. You?" He questioned.

"No, I can't say that I do." T-Bird replied with a shrug.

"Well, go see if you can't find this guy, bring him in for a talk." The pimp stated. "Maybe we can broker a peace before we set this entire city up in flames." He added.


(Elsewhere)

Meanwhile, back with Sarah, she was trying to catch up to Darryl who had run off without her before she ended up losing him, causing the girl to unfortunately get lost while skateboarding and looking for any sign of her friend.

When she tried to cross a street, however, she failed to notice the cab coming her way before someone yanked her back to safety.

"Hey! Let me go, you creep!" She exclaimed, before she was set back on her feet, her odd savior leaning against a pole.

"He couldn't have stopped." He told her as he tried to collect himself, all while a familiar black bird sat atop the pole he leaned on.

"Well I could've moved faster than that prick." The blonde grunted as she looked at the teen. "You supposed to be a clown or something?" She asked.

"Sometimes." The figure replied, pulling his hood down as the girl turned around and looked up at the sky while it rained.

"It's always raining here. It feels more like I'm surfing than skating." Sarah sighed before she went to grab her skateboard.

"It can't rain all the time." The goth told her, causing her to freeze. Only one person tells her that.

"Eric?!" She gasped, turning to look at him… Only to find that he vanished. She looked around to see if she could find where he went, but couldn't.

All she could see was the rain.


Dragon Emperor0: Hey guys. Hope you all are having a fun Halloween night. I'm posting this as a way of telling you that we'll be rebooting this story and as such you'll likely see various changes made to it and differences going forward. ThermalsniperN7 will help explain why.

ThermalsniperN7: One of the reasons for the reboot is we weren't really… Feeling proud of how the original turned out in some aspects. What happened with Darryl there is one such thing, and another is the cliche fact of villains going after Jean, so we're changing that up. As well as some other things. We'll also be making Eric more assassin-like earlier on rather than having it tacked on, similar to the Assassin's Creed games. With how often leaps of faith were apparently common in the original The Crow film, it feels like something we should've done from the get-go.

Dragon Emperor0: Yeah additionally due to some reevaluating of faith related stuff on my end, we'll be scrapping any harems and lemons, changing them to limes and stripping out certain types of characters, and other such changes. But that was already covered in the update that was posted before this, so I'll leave it at that.

ThermalsniperN7: So enjoy a little Halloween themed reboot, and hopefully it'll turn out better with this makeover. Anyway, see you next time.