"And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light." 2 Corinthians 11:44

Sheila Donovan sighed as she came home from work, exhausted. She had worked over 24 hours today at the Emergency Department in Metro-General Hospital, covering a nurse who had called out sick for the evening shift. Sheila had ginger red hair, green eyes that had a weary expression at the moment. Her cheeks and nose were dotted with freckles. She wore her navy blue scrubs and sneakers.

She found her roommate, Brynn Chester, in the living room; sitting on the couch, watching TV and munching on Doritos. Brynn was an Australian girl with auburn hair and brown eyes. She was a slob who worked part time at a sandwich place called Hoagies Heroes. Unfortunately instead of going to work, she preferred to play hooky and binge watch cable shows.

Sheila went to the kitchen to get something to eat. She hung her head and groaned in exasperation when she saw the kitchen was a complete disgusting mess: dirty dishes in the sink, crumbs everywhere, and milk was left out. Sheila cleaned up the mess despite her exhaustion—she knew that this would only attract rodents and roaches. She did what she could to prevent that despite her many emails and phone calls to Mr Armand Tully, the pretty much nonexistent landlord.

Once the kitchen was straightened out, she noted the pile of pink envelopes on the kitchen counter. This told her payments were late. Again. Now she had to confront her roommate about the next problem.

"Brynn, did you pay for this month's utilities?" Sheila asked, looking through the mail.

"Yea. I sent a check in the mail," Brynn responded, her eyes still glued to the TV.

"So if I call them, I'm not going to get 'we haven't received a payment from you today?'" Sheila questioned.

"Sent a check in the mail."

She knew this was complete bullshit. Brynn would come up with any excuse to weasel her way out of responsibility. Frankly it was getting on her nerves.

"You do know you can pay online, right?" Sheila pointed out.

"You changed the password again on the account. So I mailed it," Brynn automatically said.

Frustrated and exhausted, Sheila let out a huff from hearing her roommate's bullshit excuses. She was too tired to deal with this shit right now and decided to deal with this first thing in the morning.

"I'm going to bed. I have to be at work in a few hours," she told Brynn. "So can you keep the noise down please?"

"Sure thing, love," Brynn responded blankly.

Sheila went to her room to change out of her scrubs and placed them in a plastic bag so she could wash them at the laundromat. The washers and dryers in the basement had ruined her last set of brand new scrubs. It seemed the landlord had no intention of fixing anything in the building. Mr Tully never responded to any of her calls or emails. Yet she wouldn't give up.

Wincing at the aches and pains coursing through her body, it was the many things that came with being an ER nurse. She pulled the hair tie out, her red hair tumbled down from the tight bun. She headed for the bathroom to shower. When she turned on the water, it was freezing. Not wanting to waste time, she stepped under the cold spray while washing the sweat and filth from the hospital off her body. Her whole body shivered—she was regretting coming home. But she had responsibilities and Brynn wasn't going to do shit.

After her shower, Sheila tied her hair back up into a messy bun and popped 4 mg of Ibuprofen to relieve her aching body. Hopefully she could get some sleep. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt from Michigan U, she collapsed on the bed exhausted from a long day—she began to drift into a dreamlike state.

Brynn's shrill voice interrupted her thoughts, snapping her from her sleep. She buried her head under her pillow in order to mute the noise.

"Fuck!" she muttered.

It was going to be a long night. Frustrated from her roommate's inability to keep her voice down, she got up to go for a walk. Her roommate barely noticed her leaving. She was so sure she asked where she was going, but she completely ignored her.

Upon exiting the building, the streets were dark and quiet in Hell's Kitchen. The breeze blew through her hair. She was used to living in the city. While walking to the bus stop, she contemplated going to the diner to grab something to eat, maybe the bar for a stiff drink to take her mind off of her roommate. She was going to have another talk with Brynn regarding all these problems: not paying her share, leaving a mess, eating all the food and touching her things, plus respecting her request to be quiet when she had to sleep. First thing tomorrow during her break at work, she was going to call the utilities companies in regards to whether or not Brynn had paid her share. She rehearsed her speech, repeating it and using her hand to emphasize her points.

Her thoughts were interrupted by noises coming from a dark alley. Usually she would mind her own business when it came to this. But as a nurse, she had every right to be concerned. What if there was a crime going on and she did absolutely nothing? She had to make note of what she saw if the police got involved. On tiptoe, she followed the sounds, squinting as she tried to see what was going on. It was hard to see from where she was standing, so she decided to move closer. Craning her neck, her eyes widened in shock at the sight: there were four men fighting-three against one. It was hard to tell what they were wearing since it was dark outside, but one man had unnatural fighting skills-the only way she could describe what she had witnessed was this man seemed to move in an acrobatic manner, almost supernatural. The sounds of shouting, groaning, grunting and bones breaking echoed in the dark alley. Sheila covered her mouth in horror and shock at the brutality of this fight. Even when the man in black got beaten down, he just kept fighting with endless ferocity.

Eventually the battle came to an end, the man in black was the only one left standing. Three bodies lay on the ground, not moving.

So many things ran through her head-were the men dead? Were they alive? What was the whole reason that this fight was going on? Her heart beat so loud and fast, adrenaline rushed though her body, activating the fight or flight response. Her mind was screaming that she had to get the hell away from here. Observing his movements, the man jerk his head in her direction, prompting her to hide behind the wall.

Panting, the man in black stilled as he sensed a presence-three steady and slow heartbeats, one was beating rapidly. Had someone seen him? He caught a whiff of green apple shampoo and sage and citrus body soap in the air. He followed the sound of the beating heart with careful steps like a predator hunting its prey.

Sheila had no idea what this man's intentions were. What if he hurt her because she was being nosy? Upon hearing his approaching footsteps, she broke into a run, bumping into a trash can-it tipped over in a metallic clang and garbage spilled on the ground. She kept running without looking back, praying that this man would not pursue her.

Come morning, the alarm went off. Sheila just laid in bed wide awake in absolute terror. She had seen a man beat up three men in a back alley. And she did nothing to stop it. She thought about calling the police, but she didn't know what to say. How was she supposed to describe the men involved in the fight when it was too dark out?

Getting up, she still felt completely exhausted. She really didn't want to go to work, but what choice did she have? She had no time to make coffee so she decided to stop by Starbucks and get one on the way.

"You don't look like you slept well," Brynn commented.

"No thanks to you," Sheila remarked waspish while going out the door.

Upon arriving at work, she had a few cases. Her mind kept drifting to a place between awake and asleep. She kept thinking about what she had seen.

While she had grown up in the city and saw some ugly things happen, she learned to mind her business and keep walking. But it was different now that she had become a nurse. She learned pretty much everyone's business. It was hard for patients to find someone to trust. She would try to be as nonjudgmental and nonthreatening as possible so they would be comfortable talking to her. Yet it didn't always succeed.

"You...look like shit," Rick commented, handing her a second cup of coffee.

Rick Denver was a paramedic who had long brown hair and tattoos. He had a southern accent. He was one of Sheila's friends. He gave his colleague a smirk. She thanked him with a sigh of relief. There was no way she was going to make it through her shift on little sleep.

"Yea. My roommate kept me up all night," she responded with a light chuckle, taking the coffee. "Thanks, Rick."

"When are you gonna find a rich man to live with and move out of this shithole?" he joked.

"Yea...after what Lennie did," Sheila remarked. "I think I'm better off being single and ready to mingle. Plus it's too damn expensive. Hell's Kitchen is within my salary range. And that's WITH a roommate."

"So find a new roommate," Rick suggested with a shrug.

"Sure. I'll get right on it," Sheila said sarcastic. "Along with the mountain of bills I have to pay, Rick."

After a beat, maybe she should tell someone what she saw last night.

"Besides Brynn being an obnoxious loud bitch, I just saw the weirdest shit last night."

A frown came to Rick's face when his colleague told him this, intriguing him. Usually they shared their personal lives and he always helped Sheila out when she had an emergency on the street.

"Ever since that alien invasion, Hell's Kitchen is full of weird shit, Sheils," Rick said. "Be more specific."

Sheila laughed. She had heard these crazy stories about the Incident, but she still remained skeptical. She didn't see anything as she was stationed at Metro-General, but the aftermath was horrible. Many people died, thousands were injured. The ER department was overwhelmed, everyone was working around the clock to get everyone care. The city had been saved by a group of heroes called the Avengers.

"It wasn't so much as weird—more like scary," she admitted.

"Scare me," Rick challenged.

"So I was walking down West 54th—and I kid you not, there was a fight going on in an alley. And it was one guy was fighting three guys at once. I mean, he just took them down."

"So? Lots of people get into fights. What's so scary about that?"

"It was the way he just moved and shit-almost like something straight out of those ninja movies."

"What'd he look like?"

"I didn't really get a good look," she admitted. "It was really dark, but he was definitely dressed in black. His face was half-covered-kind of like Antonio Banderas in the movie Zorro."

The paramedic arched his eyebrow at Sheila's story. He had known about this nameless fear that roamed the streets of Hell's Kitchen, having collected many injured bodies in his line of duty. He'd find men beaten to a pulp that their faces were almost beyond recognition. Broken bones. Bruises. Bloody. Everyone feared this Masked Man.

"Huh. Sounds like you had a run-in with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen," Rick said.

"I'm sorry, but what?" Sheila exclaimed in disbelief.

"He's an urban legend around here. He was in the paper. Supposedly, he's this masked vigilante that goes around and beats the shit out of really bad guys, but he leaves them alive. Everyone is scared of him. But other people seem to think he's a hero. Just a few months ago at the docks, there were these girls who were being kept in a shipping container-they said a man in a black mask took down their kidnappers-and they were armed too. You ask me, guy's got real balls of steel."

Sheila stared at her coworker in complete stunned silence.

"You're telling me this guy runs around at night, beating up bad guys like he's some kind of black noir comic book superhero?" Sheila said with a laugh.

"Well, you'd be very surprised," he said. "Some of these guys who encountered the Devil have lived to tell the tale."

"And what do they say?" Sheila asked.

"Not much," Rick said. "Just the fact that they're scared shitless is enough."

Sheila woke the next morning to her alarm. She had nightmares about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen chasing her down the street, screaming in terror.

She got herself ready for work, she sighed in exasperation when she found the coffee pot was empty. She rinsed it and put in some new coffee grinds, setting it up to make a fresh batch. Sighing, she enjoyed the smells of percolating coffee. She had put a sausage, egg and cheese sandwich in the microwave to cook while she got herself dressed.

She was just about to grab her sandwich and head out to work when she realized it was missing. She had no doubt in her mind Brynn had taken it. She decided this was the time to tell her she needed to talk to her after work.

"Brynn!" she called. "Brynn, have you seen my...?"

Her words faltered when she saw her roommate sitting on the living room couch, eating none other than her sandwich! Everything seemed to go silent in the redhead's ears as something inside her snapped...

All she saw was the color red, the screaming chorus of Ennio Morricone's Navajo Joe theme ringing out in her ears. As if she were watching herself in slow motion, she threw a coffee cup filled with coffee at her roommate in an apoplectic rage—the mug spun in the air followed by a brown splash—her roommate stared stupidly at the incoming object hurled at her and her expression changed to that of shock and surprise as coffee splashed on her shoulder and the mug smashed on the wall behind her. All she heard was her own screams as her temper was unleashed...

It seemed like she blacked out in a fit of pique. Once the storm settled, she stood there, looking down to see her shaky hands with remains of coffee dripping down her palms and her red hair fell over her face.

And within those few minutes, she stood in the kitchen, frozen in fear as realization began to dawn on what she had done. The light brown splash of coffee dripping down from the white walls. Shattered porcelain that belonged to a coffee cup on the floor. Various items were scattered all over the room-a phone book split open in one part of the room, a broken snow globe, a few nick nacks here and there. A dent in the wall with light brown coffee dripping down. She never thought one thing would set her off.

She realized she was in deep shit.

She had a feeling that any moment her roommate was going to pursue legal action. She could lose everything—her job, her reputation, her life. She moved herself out the apartment as quickly as possible since she thought it'd be the best solution. Less drama. No cops to drag her out in cuffs. No. She didn't need a criminal record.

She called Rick up to help her move out-which he happily did. She instructed him what to put in storage, what to donate, and what to throw away. She was saddened that she had to give up most of her stuff that she had accumulated over the years all because of her reckless behavior. She had to tell herself that things could be replaced later. Right now all that mattered was getting out before she found herself sitting in a jail cell.

"You sure you don't mind storing this stuff at your place until I can find a storage space?" Sheila asked.

"Nah. I got some space in the basement. Just let me know when you got yourself a storage space and we'll move all that stuff in," Rick said while he loaded some stuff into his truck.

"This is such a fucking disaster," she said panicking. "My ass is going to prison for this."

"Relax, Sheils," Rick said. "Brynn will just learn not mess with you again."

"You don't fucking know that!" Sheila said desperately. "I could lose everything! I need some kind of legal help in case she decides to press charges. I can NOT go to jail and I can't risk my job or my license."

"Well if you really want help, I highly recommend Nelson & Murdock," Rick said as he loaded up the last of the boxes.

"Great! Just what I need-more money to spend on a lawyer," Sheila sighed in defeat.

"Nah, they won't charge a pretty penny," Rick assured. "Some of my buds swear by them-heard they're real sharks with defense. Brynn won't stand a chance if you got Nelson & Murdock on your side. Here's their card. I saved it just in case I ever needed it-but I figured you need it more."

Rick dug his card out of his wallet, handing it to Sheila. She stared it, seeing the bumps of Braille underneath the words Nelson & Murdock: Attorneys At Law.

Honestly she was not liking the fact that she had to spend more money—it already cost her a pretty penny just to get herself out of her apartment, plus find a storage space to rent. Now hiring a lawyer was more money out of her pocket. She was barely scraping by just from living in New York. She took on extra shifts and saved every paycheck—of course it didn't help that her roommate never paid her share of the rent and utilities. Often times, the payments were late that Sheila was forced to give up some money that she saved in hopes of buying some things she wanted in order to keep a roof over her head, electric, heat, hot water and have Internet to watch TV, use her computer and phone.

Shit.

"Guess I should head on over there and see if they can take my case," she said with a shrug. "Thanks again, Rick."

"Sure thing, Sheils," he said. "I'll drive you over there."

Rick dropped her off in front of the building where Nelson & Murdock's office. She stood outside the red brick building, staring at the bronze sign near the door. She contemplated whether to just go in or call first to make an appointment. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she entered the building and knocked on the office door. Inside, she heard the sound of an object tapping on the floor followed by footsteps. Her eyes glanced at the door as it opened, beholding the person who answered.

"Can I help you?" the voice spoke.