Rated M. Previous chapter: www.comicvine.com/forums/fan-fic-8/dc-recreated-midnighter-part-1-1585842/#14
Midnighter perched precariously on the edge of the water tower down towards the 5 storey apartment building across the street. His coat flapped in the slight breeze as he looked the building over.
Wonder what A...
He stopped and tapped the side of his head like he was a broken toy.
Get it together! He was a bit of fun! Back in the game!
He checked the pager again just in case there were any last minute variations to the plan like Tijuana. It was a…nice variation.
Nice! Nice? Since when do I use the word nice??
-Terror group called Oblivion Front has taken a hostage who is an ally to our cause. Rescue, and remove any resistance. B-
Be nice if I knew what he looked like!
Midnighter lit up a cigarette as his combat computer and enhanced senses calculated the best route into the building, his eyes fluttering somewhere between epilepsy and waking REM. Seconds later he smiled like a hungry wolf, drew his bo staff from his jacket pocket flicking it into full size. “Show time.”
The dark avenger leapt off the building using his staff to zipline across on the powerlines before smashing through the fourth floor window like a cannonball. He rolled up into a standing position and immediately beating the startled Oblivion Front terror members in the room.
**
The steel basement door flew off its hinges as Midnighter kicked it in, the Oblivion Front member under his arm struggled for breath in the tight headlock. A man in red and black pulled a glowing sword from the back of a terrorist and kicked the lifeless corpse to the ground.
Seemingly psychic. Energy manipulation.
“Who the ^%$# are you?” snarled Midnighter as his eyes stared at him, his grip tightened around the hostage’s throat.
“Who the ^%$# am I? Who the ^%$# are you?” he replied as he spun the sword up into a ready position.
Standard chūdan-no-kamae or middle-level posture. Possibly kendo trained but grip indicates possible Korean influences. 240 possible strikes with sword, double if unarmed strikes are used in conjunction. 982 possible blocking or parrying combinations, 14 instant kill shots. Ready
“This fight is over before it’s begun,” stated Midnighter as he snapped the man’s neck like a twig and dropped it to the ground like old laundry. “I asked you a question.”
“And I answered your question,” he replied as he slunk slightly to the left.
Feint. Trying to sell left side whilst obviously right handed, tell by muscle tone and eye alignment.
“Wrong answer.”
Fight will be over in 6 se…
The sword winked out, the man folding his arms. “My name is the Eminence of Blades.”
What the ^%$# is he doing?
Midnighter pulsed his fists making his knuckles crack ominously. “That supposed to mean something?”
“We’re on the same side,” he said as his tongue ran over his teeth. “You’re here to extract someone.”
Something’s off with this guy. Can’t work it out
“You have eight seconds to explain or I am going to kick your head off your neck. Seven…”
The Eminence of Blades took out a pager and threw it at Midnighter “Read it.”
Midnighter glanced down at it -Terror group called Oblivion Front has taken a hostage who is an ally to our cause. Rescue, and remove any resistance. B-
This clown is on the Black Team?
“You’re Stormwatch?” said Midnighter as tossed it back.
He nodded “We need to be in the basement, that’s where they’re keeping him.”
What the hell has B done now?
“Who?”
“Somebody called Miles Craven, the guy we’re here to rescue.”
Midnighter snarled audibly in frustration “Slash an X on the floor two feet to your right.”
The Eminence of Blades fired up his sword and did as he was asked, sparks flying off the concrete as the weapon carved a neat marking on the floor. Midnighter took a small run up, somersaulted and smashed his foot onto the ground kicking a large hole in the floor as he fell through it “You coming?”
**
SLAM!
I don’t like or trust this guy.
WHUMP!
At all!
SNAP!
Can’t read him right.
CRACK!
Midnighter stood back to back with the Eminence of Blades. The room was full of corpses except for the neat little circle around the pair and their target; the badly beaten and unconscious body of Miles Craven.
“Clear.” The Eminence’s sword disappeared. Midnighter scowled at him as he hauled Miles to his feet.
“What makes you so important huh?” asked Midnighter as he shook him.
“Hey tall, dark and mean! It said rescue not shake the $#!^ out of.”
Midnighter looked at the hand resting on his wrist “Did I say you could touch me?” He grabbed the hand, kicked his feet out from under him and slam tackled him onto the ground, driving his elbow into his throat.
“Get…offa…me” he gagged.
Midnighter raised the elbow off the throat and smashed it down onto his forehead with such force it dented the floor behind his head. “Start talking blade boy. There’s something up with you. Can’t work it out just yet, it’s like…”
“You…can’t read me,” The Eminence smiled as he smashed his forehead onto Midnighter’s nose spreading it across his face. He slid out of the hold and handsprung up to his feet, sword materializing in his left hand.
Right hand attack pa…it’s in his left hand? 302 different moves but IT’S IN HIS OTHER HAND! I can see it there. Combat patterns all wrong.
“Something the matter?”
Midnighter held the top of his nasal bone and blew a stream of blood out onto the floor “Only for you.”
The Eminence of Blades stepped forward, bringing his electric sword down as Midnighter barely slapped his palms together to catch the blade inches from his head. His black leather gloves fizzled under the intense heat. The pair struggled like titans before Midnighter as he threw his hands left and body right to avoid being cleft in twain. Quickly his bo staff came out and they traded blows, each one barely able to block the others attacks.
“I could do this all day,” said The Eminence “But I’ve got a job to do. Any time Fox?”
Fox; small red mammal, fantastic mister, news channel, 21st Century, Matthew actor, Michael J actor, Samanth…
BLIP!
A small black portal opened up behind The Eminence of Blades as a wiry little man in a costume looking like it was made by his partially blind grandmother popped partially out of it.
“HOLY $%#$ IT’S HIM!” screeched Fox.
“Settle down,” The Eminence of Blades said firmly as he threw a handful of silver balls towards Midnighter “Just get us out of here.”
Modified M84 flashbangs with sonic pulses, 22 ways to counter
Midnighter spun into his coat covering his eyes as he jammed his fingers into his ear, crouching into a tight ball. The balls exploded with sound and fury and to a lesser opponent they’d be blinded, deafened and possibly burnt from the phosphorus. Midnighter exhaled at the last pop and exploded out of his coat like a feral jack in the box at the Eminence of Blades who was hauling the unconscious body through the portal.
“GO! GO! GO!” screamed The Eminence as he played tug of war with the dark vigilante, the rope being the body of Miles Craven.
“But he’s got hold of his foot!” screamed Fox from the darkness.
“I DON’T CARE!”
Midnighter stared down the screaming swordsman as he clenched his teeth and yanked with all his might “You’re not going any…”
BLIP!
Midnighter fell backwards, the detached hand of Miles' in his. It wasn’t bleeding; it was simply neatly seared off the body as if someone had erased the remainder, almost comically.
Oh this is ^%$#!!!
To be continued...
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