It was Sunday, February 6th. I woke up with the same groggy haze as always, dragging myself out of bed. I rinsed my eyes, catching my reflection in the mirror. Greg's face stared back at me, but I quickly dismissed it. I was never Greg. I was Crowley.
I went back to my desk and opened up my laptop. Parahuman Online greeted me with its familiar dull blue and white interface. Username: XxVoid_CowboyxX. Not exactly subtle, but Greg hadn't exactly been known for subtlety. I scrolled through the recent posts, skimming for any mention of Brockton Bay's latest happenings.
And there it was.
I paused, eyes narrowing as I read through the latest thread. Crowley Spotted in Downtown Heist! Who Is He? New Parahuman?
"I am the King of Hell, so of course I need my ego stroked… sue me."
A grin spread across my face. It seemed I'd gained a bit of fame already. The name "Crowley" was beginning to circulate. Some of the posters had seen me teleporting out of the high-end fashion store last night, and they were all speculating on what kind of parahuman I was.
One user, Tempest_67, commented: Saw him last night. He's fast. Like, teleportation or something. Totally slipped past Assault and Battery like they were nothing.
Another one, DataCruncher, had a different theory: No way it's teleportation. Too smooth, too calculated. I'm thinking more like a space-warp ability. Maybe he's got some connection to the Faerie?
I rolled my eyes. Humans loved their wild theories. They couldn't just accept that they'd encountered something beyond their comprehension. But for a second, I almost thought they were referring to… leprechauns.
One post stood out to me more than the others:
No way this guy's just a random parahuman. I've seen him before. Dark suit, British accent? Could be an international villain. Crowley might be a code name for something bigger.
Stupid blabbering idjt.
They were trying to figure out who—or what—I really was. But they were way off the mark.
As I scrolled through more comments, I leaned back in my chair, thinking. If people in Brockton Bay were already talking about me and that meant the word would spread— and it would spread fast— it could either be a good thing... or an inconvenient thing for me. After all, attention brings both curious minds and unwanted enemies.
Of course, I would welcome the challenge.
I decided to make a post of my own, for a bit of fun.
XxVoid_CowboyxX: I wouldn't worry too much about Crowley. He's probably just testing the waters. Maybe he's got something bigger planned. But who knew what this bond villain wannabe wanted from BB.
I hit post, smirking to myself. Let the rumors spread.
Then, my phone buzzed again, snapping me out of my thoughts. Sparky. Again.
"What now?" I muttered, grabbing the phone.
I sighed and asked a second time. "Yeah? Hello?"
Sparky's voice was almost annoyingly chipper. "Hey man, did you see the news? Brockton Bay's got a new player in town. Some dude named Crowley. Dude sounds like a total badass!"
I chuckled. "Oh yeah? Sounds interesting."
Sparky continued, oblivious as always. "Anyway, we're getting the D group together again later. You in this time?"
I smirked to myself, glancing back at the Parahuman Online threads. "Not today, Sparky. I've got other things to take care of." I didn't feel bad rejecting the poor sap, and I swore Sparky was more or less very suspicious of me now… and it was my fault ultimately.
I continued reading through the threads, lazily scrolling past the typical back-and-forth arguments about Brockton Bay's gangs and recent cape activities, when a new post caught my attention. The title: Vampire-like Killings in the Docks?
I clicked on it, intrigued. The post was by a user named CapeWatcher_42, who had a habit of posting rumors and sightings before they hit the mainstream news.
"Found another body last night. Same as the others. Drained of blood. Weird puncture marks on the neck. Anyone else think we've got a vampire cape running around? Victim was Asian—another ABB member. Third one this week."
I leaned forward in my chair, my interest piqued. Gruesome, indeed. The idea of a vampire-inspired cape—or someone emulating that kind of flair—was amusing. In a city already filled with wannabe gangsters and capes, someone was really going all in on the theatrics. I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride. Whoever was doing this had a flair for the dramatic that I could appreciate.
"Hah! Who am I kidding? I am so proud of my bloodthirsty little friend!"
I didn't give vampire Emma any order or such. This was purely her doing. It was most likely she was just hungry. Scrolling through the comments, I saw the usual speculation:
"Could be Oni Lee. Dude's crazy enough to pull something like this."
"Nah, too sloppy for Lee. He's more of a bomb-and-run guy."
"Maybe it's a new parahuman. ABB's pissed someone off, and they're taking their revenge one bite at a time."
I raised an eyebrow. Revenge? Possible. The ABB had its fair share of enemies, and if someone was targeting them, it wasn't my problem. But I had to admit, the blood-draining aspect was a nice touch. Dramatic. Deliberate.
Emma might have a vendetta against them.
I scrolled further down, finding a few more details. Apparently, the police had no leads, but it wasn't hard to guess that this wasn't your run-of-the-mill gang war. The ABB was getting picked off, one by one, and whoever was behind it was making sure to leave a statement. And quite the bloody one, at that.
CapeWatcher_42 updated the post with more speculation: "Could be a rogue cape, or maybe someone playing at being a vampire. Either way, ABB's gonna retaliate if this keeps up. City's already a powder keg."
I chuckled to myself. A powder keg? Please, the city had been on the brink of explosion for years. This was just another spark in an already fiery landscape. But it was interesting. Maybe it was time I took a closer look at these killings. After all, a little chaos never hurt anyone—except for the victims, of course.
I quickly grew tired of Parahuman Online. The speculation, the conspiracy theories—it was fun for a while, but it could only hold my attention for so long. I booted off the computer with a soft click of the power button. The vampire cape stuff had been intriguing, but if it was who I thought it was, she'd show up eventually in a more public manner. In the meantime, I needed to focus.
Stretching, I stood up and paced around my small apartment. There was a gnawing feeling in my chest, something that had been building for days. I hadn't tested my powers properly in a while, and the urge to stretch those metaphysical muscles was getting harder to ignore.
I flicked my wrist, feeling the familiar pull of infernal magic. Dark energy only visible to me swirled at my fingertips, crackling with restrained power. It wasn't as potent as it should've been—not here, anyway. This world was different, somehow. My usual abilities were… limited. I could still teleport, summon fire, and manipulate certain elements to some extent, but the true demonic strength I possessed in my realm wasn't fully available to me here. It felt like trying to run in a dream—something always holding me back.
Perhaps the lack of hell was the problem… or maybe because I was low on souls.
I listed the powers I could use in my head as I prepared to head out: teleportation, demonic deals, minor electrokinesis, telekinesis, and crimson smoke transformation. Each ability had its place, and its use, but they weren't at full capacity here. Still, they were enough to keep me ahead of most of the capes in this city. And maybe… there was more I hadn't fully unlocked yet.
I needed to train. To push myself further. My usual apartment wasn't exactly ideal for practice, not when I had to deal with nosy neighbors and the constant threat of a power outage every time I tried to experiment with electricity.
So, I had a place. A training ground, deep underground, far from prying eyes. It wasn't glamorous, just a reinforced bunker I'd found in the southern part of the city—near the industrial district where nobody bothered asking questions. It was perfect for what I needed.
I slipped on my jacket, grabbed the keys, and teleported. The familiar sensation of my body slipping through space washed over me, and in an instant, I was standing in front of the heavy steel door to my bunker.
The air down here was cold and damp, the faint sound of dripping water echoing through the tunnels. I flicked my hand, summoning a spark of electricity to illuminate the way as I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The bunker was mostly empty—just a few scattered pieces of old machinery and metal crates. Enough space to work with.
I took a deep breath and focused. First, the teleportation. It was the easiest of my abilities, but I needed precision. I began blinking around the room, faster each time, testing how quickly I could move from one spot to another. The sensation of vanishing and reappearing felt like second nature now, but I wanted more than just speed—I needed control.
Next, I conjured crimson smoke, letting it billow out from my body. It was thick, swirling around me in a cloud, hiding my form entirely. I shifted through it, allowing myself to dissolve into the smoke and reform on the other side of the room. The transition was seamless, but there was always a lingering sense of disorientation afterward. Something to work on.
I clenched my fist, and sparks of electricity danced between my fingers. Minor electrokinesis—useful in a pinch, but not nearly as powerful as I'd like. I pointed at one of the metal crates and sent a bolt of lightning arcing toward it, the crackling energy striking with a loud bang. The crate rattled, but it wasn't enough. I needed to refine it, to channel more power.
"Come on," I muttered to myself. "Focus."
Telekinesis was next. I extended my hand, feeling the mental strain as I lifted one of the crates into the air. It hovered for a moment before I sent it crashing into the wall with a loud thud. Not bad, but I needed to control the fine movements better.
Finally, I summoned the dark energy I used for demonic deals. This power was… different. It wasn't something I could easily control; it relied on the twisted, infernal contracts I made with the damned. In this world, it manifested as a shadowy, binding force. I could feel it tugging at the edges of my consciousness, eager to be used, but I didn't call upon it now. Not yet.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and took a step back, surveying the room. The bunker had seen better days, but it would hold up for now. I was far from the limit of my abilities, but every time I pushed myself like this, I could feel that power growing, inching closer to something… greater.
Something that could turn this entire city on its head.
After my power-testing session in the bunker, I returned home, teleporting back into the small, cluttered room. I reached for my desktop computer again, though this time I had no real intention of logging back into Parahuman Online. Instead, I began sketching up plans for the future.
I pulled out a stack of papers I kept hidden beneath the study table. Blueprints, maps, and half-finished scribbles about Brockton Bay's key locations. I unfurled one that I'd been particularly interested in—a map of the financial district. It was pristine, wealthy, and filled with opportunity.
I leaned back, staring at the paper. "If I hit there, they'd never see it coming," I muttered, a grin creeping across my face. "Maybe too obvious. Or maybe, just bold enough."
The memory of last night came back in flashes. The way I'd played Assault and Battery like a pair of fools. It was fun—too fun, really. I could be impulsive sometimes, I knew that. But then again, it kept things interesting. The thought of them scrambling around, trying to figure out how I'd slipped through their fingers, was enough to bring a full laugh out of me.
My phone buzzed again, dragging me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen and saw it was Sparky. Again. Bollocks!
"God, does this guy ever take a hint?" I groaned, reaching for the phone. "Yeah, Sparky. What's up?"
Sparky's voice was as annoyingly cheerful as ever. "Hey, man! We're starting the D session in like, half an hour. You sure you don't wanna join? We're short a player—could really use your chaotic energy, you know?"
"Fine! Fine! You win! I am coming!"
That day had been a mistake.
I never knew I'd get hooked up with playing D , thus a new hobby was introduced in my life.
