The Purple Man
The Owl of Wall Street Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six
The Purple Man Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four
Daredevil and related characters belong to Marvel Comics.
Other Marvel Re-Imagined titles can be found here.
Rating: M (for references to violence and also some sexual language; covering my bases)
Part Five
Grappling-hook billy clubs; it was the sort of idea that Matt never thought he’d feel with his hands. Swinging through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, streets he knew from a lifetime of blind exploration and a week of re-familiarisation, he tried to listen in on what the people were saying. For the most part it was ordinary noise; greetings between friends, customers debating with shop-owners and even the high barking of the canine chorus. They never barked so loud so repeatedly, so in unison. Something was up and the dogs could sense it. Matt wasn’t sure if they could smell Killgrave or if they even knew he was roaming the streets with a potential army, but that was something Daredevil would have to check for himself. With silent grace he raced across the rooftops and tried to find a sound or even a smell from Killgrave.
“I’ll take this city as mine.”
The words still echoed in his head and, despite his aching chest and the strain he could feel in his legs, Daredevil pushed himself further on. He’d been beaten because he didn’t crumple. The city wouldn’t feel or smell the same if someone didn’t stop Killgrave before New York could fight back. Stopping on a rooftop about twenty minutes from the office of Nelson and Murdock, Daredevil breathed in deeply. He could feel the air rushing into his lungs and it felt so painful. Behind the red cloth he grit his teeth. Even Daredevil needed rest. Matt had no idea what Daredevil was even capable of. Bursting in on Killgrave and whatever goon squad he’d assembled thoroughly exhausted would be a worse idea than plunging into a careful trap laid by Owlsley. He’d gotten out alright then; this time Matt wasn’t sure Killgrave would be so accommodating as to let Daredevil fly free if he dropped a folder.
He crouched on the rooftop, listening for anything. Matt frowned; he wasn’t sure what the point was to it. Yes, he had learnt how to listen very carefully to compensate for his lack of sight, but that didn’t mean he could see through walls or through roofs. All he could hear was moaning. No, there was something else. There was a dash of giggling; definitely a woman there. Daredevil crawled around the rooftop, trying to listen closer. The moaning was interesting; the moaning had sounded gravelly. Matt could almost hear the voice behind the moan, whispering into his ear again.
“I’ll take this city as mine.”
Daredevil sprang from the roof, throwing the chord of the billy club-grapple hook around the telegraph pole he knew was there. He knew the smell of the street; it had been the same for years. He could feel the air around him, cushioning him. Daredevil was weightless as he flew, but shattered through the window with the force of a blind man flying around in a bad Halloween costume. The thought crossed his mind as he fell into the carpeted floor that having soled shoes had definitely been a good idea. It took a while for the sounds to sink in. The screaming woman, the running around on the ground, but unmistakeably that gravelly Russian, just a scattering of choice words but enough for Matt to really recognise the voice. It was sheer fluke, but he’d found him.
“He’s Daredevil, Mr Killgrave,” he heard one of the people say. It was Urich. He’d recognise the voice anywhere. Matt felt himself almost laughing bitterly. Of course Killgrave would keep Urich close by. The reporter would know people; he’d need someone who knew people if he wanted to take over the city through subtlety.
“Killgrave,” Daredevil said as he stood up, trying not to shake. His legs hadn’t appreciated breaking through a window.
“So you’re the fool attempting superheroics today, da?” Killgrave said as he fished for something on the ground; most likely a shirt. “I get out and try having one of your American whores, for the first time since I left that god-forsaken ice-hole I’ll add, and you choose now of all times to interrupt.”
Matt could feel something hit him in the stomach just before he fell back to the ground and into the shards that remained of the window. Daredevil struggled to breathe as he heard someone walking closer to him, crunching over the glass and gripping him firmly by the throat.
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