Disclaimer: If you recognise it, surprise, I don't own it.
Chapter 37- The Mark.
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"W-Wait! Who are you!?" I hear shouts on the streets below. At this point, I am just supposed to disappear without a word. the silent hero.
"I'm Batman." The words hang in the air as I slip out of sight and dart off into the night unseen.
So yeah, I am back out as Batman going around and beating people up. And saving people, I suppose. But I can't just beat people up without saving victims, can I? Yeah, yeah, I know. I was supposed to lay low and stop going out as Batman since there was no point to it anymore. Just wait at home for Felicia to finish her heist and steal the last thing for Fisk, and then we could run away from New York entirely.
But I got bored. It was fun at first, but beating people down in Grand Theft Auto wasn't really fun when you had real-life experience knocking heads together. There was a rush to it. A satisfaction when you feel bone fail against your fist and know some douchebag asshole motherfucker will be hurting for months after. Without the pressure of helping Felicia and working towards Fisk's downfall, this is actually quite fun.
It is just great. I come out, and I fly around for a while. I go, and I bash some mugger and attempted rapists' faces in (and a lot more to them), and then I move on to the next waste of space. I avoid the high-traffic areas, knowing I will probably get more than I bargained for there, and I stick to the quieter areas and the alleys. Places like Hell's Kitchen, where there are a lot of scum that need to lose their teeth, but also hardly anyone that could cause me trouble. Am I a bully now? Probably.
Also, there is another reason I am prowling these streets, and that is because I am on the hunt. I'm on the hunt for a very specific somebody who I need to get some payback on. I had gotten the information a few days ago, and I did need something to do.
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Above the city, floating silently over the blaring noises far below, a paper plane soars forward. And somehow, it is guided towards one certain block, one definite skyscraper and one particular window. It didn't even matter that the window was closed, as the paper plane smashed right through to enter inside.
"What?" A balding, glasses-wearing man in a luxury dress gown is startled as the paper plane shoots across the room.
"It can't be- but..." He can only comment as the paper plane embeds itself deep into the wall behind him.
"It is! A paper plane! But how could it break through my window?" The man questions, walking over to the wall and then reaching out for the paper plane. "If this is some trick..." He says, but his hand grabs onto the paper and pulls it free.
"It can't be. None of my employees would dare joke with me. They are all too frightened of losing their jobs." He wonders, unfolding the paper plane as he does so. "Eh? Writing. A message for me?" He notices words on the page as he pulls the paper apart and reveals the message.
"What!?" He exclaims, having unravelled the paper and discovered the message. Pay me $100,000, or I will kill you!!!. And then, written underneath that with a stylised target on the paper was the word, Bullseye.
"What sort of nonsense is this? Someone is going to answer for this tasteless joke." The rich man starts to complain, growing infuriated at the threatening message. "And, when I find the culprit, I am going to fire him." He declares to himself, and unknowingly, someone else.
"I honestly doubt that. Mr. Hunnicutt." A voice reveals itself, and the old man looks over in fright. "Hunh? Who-? That costume!" Fear grows on his face at the sight of the costumed individual standing across from him in the room.
"So nice of you to notice. Well tailored. Is it not?" The man asks, referencing his own clothing. A black body suit, with a white belt and yellow pouches. He has white rings around his upper body as well as a white target on the middle of his forehead on his half mask.
"Who in blazes are you!?" The old man shouts, backing away.
"How rude of me not to mention." The man says, waving his hand about. "My name is, well, probably meaningless to you, Mr. Hunnicutt." He moves over to the desk, picking up a pen.
"Though you will probably recognise my, shall we say, stage name? It's Bullseye!" He reveals, pulling his arm back into a throwing stance, transforming the pen into a dangerous weapon. "Oh yes, the same one who just sent that note. Do you have the money I asked for?" The insane man questions, wanting the money he had only demanded around twenty seconds ago.
"No! I don't have any money here. But-" The old man says, but tried to assure his assailant that he could get the money. Unfortunately for him, he was not dealing with a rational man.
"No money? Tsk tsk. I so wanted that payment, Mr. Hunnicutt. Ah well, I can see there is no other alternate." The man throws his arm forward, and there is a sudden rush of air. "I must carry out my threat, to the letter!" The simple pen, in this situation, is truly mightier than the sword, and that is because it is now acting as a veritable missile.
"Agghhhhh!" Mr. Hunnicutt screams, his hands clutching at his throat, trying to save himself. And yet it is useless, as the pen is embedded deep into his throat, and blood flows out around it as well as through the inside of the pen, seeping through the gaps.
"Though please don't take this personally, Mr. Hunnicutt. We have just met, and though you seem to be a rather rude fellow... I am quite sure you are probably good to children and dogs." Bullseye speaks nonchalantly, walking close to Mr. Hunnicutt and edging the man backwards until his back hits the wall, which he then begins to slide down.
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"Alas, your death is strictly business, and therefore necessary. And, right now, I just can't afford to take any losses. The recession and such." Bullseye turns around to leave, Mr. Hunnicutt bleeding out on the floor behind him.
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I learned about Bullseye's little escapade and failed shakedown through the Daily Bugle. And once I found out the fucker that perforated me was running amok, well, I couldn't sit still anymore, could I? I needed to go fuck that asshole up. So, I broke into the police headquarters and checked out the case file. There was CCTV footage of what occurred there, Bullseye being aware of it but not caring, even smiling at the camera in the end.
It turns out Bullseye actually hadn't really debuted yet when I fought him and was just working as a specialist under Fisk. But now, well, it seems he has decided to branch out and have some fun. And he started by shaking down some rich guy, and very poorly at that. He has been on a bit of a spree lately and leaving quite a trail. I had just gotten wind of a bizarre murder, and chances were it was him, so I was on my way to check it out. And here I am, at 344 86th Street.
I can hear voices on the inside, and that is probably the police. Since I am obviously a guy dressed in a black bat costume, I don't think they will be very appreciative of my presence. Best to hide and gather information. I sneak in with ease, sticking to the shadows. Of the two inside, one is young and excited while looking at the body, and the other is older and has a gruff voice, tired of his counterpart's actions and used to the situation as if he has been through it a thousand times.
"A nut did this. You wanna know how I know? Listen. A: Only a full-fledged banana would leave a message for us. B: Not only a message, but he took the time to spray paint that ridiculous Bullseye over the body and wall." The older cop juts his thumb at the body and the spray-painted rings surrounding it. Written on the wall next to the corpse were the words. This is an example to all who refuse to pay Bullseye.
"And three, look at the rug. He dragged the victim to where he could write that note. A nut, case closed!" The man puffs his cigarette, closing his eyes and nodding his head as if that is everything solved.
"You are probably right, Lieutenant Rose. Now the question is, why did Bullseye kill the man?" The young policeman questions, kneeling on one knee next to the body with his hand on his chin, really playing up the detective feel. "It couldn't only be for the money, could it?" He says, his voice trying to be serious.
"Couldn't? Where did they teach you motivation, Jones? Sesame Street?" Lieutenant Rose, who is very on-theme, has a rose attached to his lapel and mocks Officer Jones. "Message says money. Get it? To me, that means money. Straight and simple! Now let's get out of here and mark this thing solved." Rose says, motioning for them to leave.
"Solved? But we haven't solved anything!" Jones says, indignant.
"Don't worry about it, kid. The other wacko will go get him for us." Rose waves him off.
"You mean Daredevil?" Jones asks, and I find myself confused as to why that guy is being mentioned here.
"Yeah, that guy. He came in here, walked around the crime scene like he owned it, and then he left. So he can do it. Hell, it's only been a couple of minutes since he left, and I bet he has already caught the nut." Damn, so Daredevil got here just before me. Fuck, and that guy means business. If I don't hurry, that guy will get to Bullseye before me. I need to go and catch up to him. No doubt he is already on the trail with his blind guy sense- Boom!
My head snaps to the side as I look in the direction of that big boom. Something just exploded about a dozen blocks in that direction, and if I were a betting man, then I would say that is where Daredevil is, and most likely Bullseye. I need to go.
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"You see, he wants... he craves publicity. He figures it will frighten his future victims into paying him off right away. He only killed Hunnicutt and the others as an example for all others. He never intended to let any of them live." A smoking man with a fedora on his head speaks, his upper body leaning out of the window high up on a New York Building.
"Thanks, Conover. You may not have helped me find Bullseye, but I think I may have gotten some angle on where he is at. Which might prove just as important." Daredevil replies to the man, standing outside on the ledge of the building, readying himself to leave.
"Take it easy, DD, and get some rest. You could give yourself an ulcer." Connover says, leaning over to grab the windows to close them.
"An ulcer should be the least of my problems right now. This Bullseye is a master of all weapons, and he is most definitely dangerous." Daredevil says as a farewell, throwing his billy club out to wrap around something and then jumping off and swinging into the distance. He makes it a few blocks away when something catches his attention.
"Eh? Sound of something whooshing by me- Goddamn it!" Daredevil quickly manoeuvres himself to the side mid-swing, avoiding the launched object. 'Unless my radar sense has short-circuited.' He thinks to himself as he turns around to swing the other way. 'It's a hand grenade!' The explosive darts past Daredevil as he focuses his senses on it.
'Uh oh- the grenade has a four-and-a-half second fuse', Daredevil thinks to himself, focusing on the grenade and unravelling its inner workings to conclude just how deadly it is and how much time he has. 'And at the rate, the acid is burning-' He quickly retracts his billy club and flings it up higher, and swings up higher into the air, above the grenade.
'I only have a second to-' BABOOOM! The grenade explodes beneath Daredevil, sending him high into the air and damaging him. But not in the usual way. The sound of the explosion beneath him is deafening, and given that he was focusing on it, the damage was much worse.
'Stunned... I can't think straight. Come on, Daredevil, get your act together-' He thinks to himself, clutching his head as he falls through the air, getting closer and closer to the ground. 'Or it's splat all over the sidewalk!' He tries to reach for his side, where he keeps his billy club to try and save himself from the ever-enclosing earth.
'Heads clearing... but it may be too late! Only moments to act... To shoot out my billy club line.' He points his billy club line out towards an outcrop on a building ahead of him and shoots it out. 'Come on, come on! It's only you and me, Billy boy!' He smiles as his billy club connects, and he begins to swing.
'Another second, and they would be scraping me off the concrete.' Daredevil thinks to himself as he swings into an alley, his legs scraping against the ground. He has to let go, falling to the ground and tumbling across the grimy alley floor before rolling to his feet. His eyes travel to the figure across the way, covered in the shadows of the alley.
"Ah, my scarlet friend. You have well earned your reputation, I see." Bullseye says as he stands there calmly with a smile on his face, his hands by his sides, close to the pouches on his belt. "Very good, it will only add to the sport... when we engage in our final and most inevitable duel." He grins darkly, seeing something only he can see.
"Talking to yourself, Homer? No one agreed to delay our little game but yourself. And incase I am not getting through to you-" Daredevil suddenly lunges forward, throwing an arm forth to punch at Bullseye. "The fight begins now!" And it truly did, but Daredevil was not the one who drew first blood.
"Hardly, my friend, unless you can fight your way through this garbage," Bullseye says, lashing out and kicking the garbage can beside him at Daredevil, sending garbage spewing out and hitting him in the face. "Unggghhhh!" Daredevil groans as the trash knocks him back, covering his upper body. Each box and can in the garbage can had flown forward, striking Daredevil and hitting him like a missile. The trash was so dense that he was unable to dodge it in time.
"But, I have no wish to finish you off here, my friend. It would hardly serve my purpose. Thus, while you pick yourself up from the litter, I will make my escape..." Bullseye says to Daredevil, who is on the ground covered in filth. "But slowly enough for you to follow me. Farewell, my friend. We shall see each other shortly!" Bullseye then turns around and begins to walk, calmy, out of the alleyway, pausing at the end and then taking a left.
"Friend, you are a grade-A lunatic," Daredevil mutters to himself as he picks himself up off the floor, dusting the garbage off of himself. 'He's baiting me... wants me to follow him... and I have got no other choice than to play fly to his spider. I want to know what he is trying to achieve here.' Daredevil thinks to himself as he follows after the insane killer.
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I reached the area where the explosion happened as fast as I could, but all I had was the general area. There were no more loud noises occurring. There was nothing for me to go on from here. I start to peruse the surrounding area, trying to find evidence of a fight or something. Anything that could be a clue and give me a trail to follow so I could find Daredevil, which is my most likely way to find Bullseye. Daredevil is on the case, and I can say without question that he is the better detective of the two of us.
I hear noises below and quickly drop to a rooftop so I can get a better view of the situation, and I witness... Daredevil is covered in trash, slowly picking the filth off of himself as Bullseye walks away from him. Okay. Well, that lines up with what I thought, I found Daredevil, and so I found Bullseye. That makes sense. What doesn't make sense is the fact that Daredevil has started to walk after Bullseye, following him. And not in the predator way.
Bullseye knows he is there and is leading Daredevil somewhere, and Daredevil is following along. Now, ordinarily, I wouldn't give a rat's ass and would fly down so I could take Bullseye by surprise and beat the shit out of him. But Daredevil is there, and if there is anything my last encounter with a Hero has taught me, it is that they are not immune to subversion. I can't take the chance that Daredevil will team up with Bullseye against me since he seems to be subservient right now.
It's best I follow along quietly. And see where this goes, and strike when the moment is right.