#1 Posted by Mark_XV (331 posts) - - Show Bio

Los Angeles, California

 
Mark sat in the darkness of a hotel room, completely deprived of any sound or visual that would distract him from his one goal. Death's Reaper had been informed of a Lycan whose subsequent release had been spurred by the madness of the Ruin Kingdom. Although he hadn't partaken, the Legacy knew all too well the craftiness of the Cajun and the chaos he created whilst 'imprisoned.' In the wake of the whole fiasco, the Utopian Registration Act, and an expected war, the aftermath of the ordeal was coming to light. The Ruin Kingdom would be the start of a change. That's also why the Shadow was employed to go after this William. The man could start a sea of change on his own and change more with his team. Certain individuals didn't want to see the Lycan reunited with his old group. 
 
Mark knew he would not have a chance of defeating him while he was in range of his allies. But alone, isolated from the world, and still rusty?--This was his chance. 
 
The Reaper had stationed himself in Los Angeles, a major city where William would probably travel through on his way to meeting his team. Mark knew in a old prison that his Lycan target wouldn't be able to access sufficient weapons and would need some after his escape. So, in a ingenious plan, one of his associates was posing as a arms dealer who could trade with William for better weapons in exchange for whatever he could offer. Then, before the deal was done, he could catch his opponent off-guard and handle him. 
 
He sat still, until a vibration on the table in front of him causes him to flicker his eyes open.
 
My phone, he thought, grabbing it. "Hello?"
 
"I've planned a meeting in the warehouse district in thirty minutes. Be here."
 
"Alright," he replied, ending the conversation. The Clone laid his phone on the table, grabbing his tools of war and preparing himself for a difficult battle. Mark had never met William, but he knew of the raw power that Lycans had. From what he had heard, this Lycan would be much tougher. The Legacy was in for a fight.

Warehouse

 
The Shadow peered through a roof window-pane down at the two men below. One of them was the very familiar associate who he had tasked with luring the Hunter into the trap. Mark amusingly grinned to himself. It was ironic that the Hunter was now the hunted--just after his liberation from prison. The Assassin looked towards the other man, who he identified quickly.  Mark was impressed by William's imposing body structure. He seemed to be all muscle, without a hint of fat on him. Mark could tell he was tall just from his width, and he suspected that the Hunter was the average size of a small forward in the NBA. "Wow," he said, watching the mannerisms of his target. He waited a while, watching the two discuss their business before he slowly began unzipping a black duffel bag next to him. Death's Reaper produced a quiver of arrows and a bow which he knew would be essential to keeping out of reach of the more imposing man. If things came to close quarters--which Mark hoped they wouldn't--he always had his two scimitars, daggers, and knives. 
 
Mark grabbed an arrow from his quiver and notched it into his bow. Instead of aiming at the Hunter, the Clone aimed at his associate. The man wasn't a good friend in the first place, and Mark felt no remorse in ending the loose string attached to his mission. "It's now..." he pondered. "Or later." 
 
"Now," he finally said, releasing the arrow. It passed through the window pane, shattering the glass, and barreled toward the associate. Before it collided with him however, it burst, releasing chemicals over his body. Mark watched as the man writhed in pain, his skin slowly melting away into a gooey substance. The whole thing was a distraction, which Mark hoped would get the Hunter a little off-guard for him to swoop down and initiate the fight. Without waiting another moment, Mark plummeted through the broken window-pane and toward the ground. Before, he had tied a rope to a metal overhanging, and it now stopped him just a few feet from the ground. Without hesitation he sliced the rope and looked at the Hunter, pulling an arrow, this time a regular one, and shooting it at him.
 
"Sorry, William. You're being terminated." 
#2 Posted by The Hunter (7545 posts) - - Show Bio

"So where is the ammunition?" William asked, his patience wearing thin.
 
"The only ammunition allowed in the 'showroom' is right here." the dealer replied.  With that, he opened a portion of his jacket to reveal a concealed shoulder holster.  Nestled inside was a .40 caliber Sig P226.  "It's the same model as what the SEAL's use." he said.  "I've got a few of these if you're interested."
 
Undeterred by the sale's pitch, the Hunter asked, "How am I supposed to test these out?"  He then placed the rifle which he was inspecting down upon the display table.
 
"There's a separate location where we conduct the test firing." the dealer replied.
 
Just as he was about to lose patience, William suddenly stopped and sniffed the air.  The scent of another had entered the scene.  Just then, his ears picked up the unique groan of a compound bowstring being pulled.  Immediately, his reflexes kicked in as he stepped to the right and spun to the left.  Just then, an arrow passed dangerously close to his face and plunged itself into the arms dealer.
 
However, just before the arrow reached its target, it projected a chemical spray.  While most of it was directed towards the arms dealer's direction, a portion of the spray spread into William's position.  Though he quickly raised his forearm to shield his face, a portion splashed onto an area just above his right eye, down his cheek, and over a portion of his raised forearm.
 
Greystoke grimaced and growled in anger as a portion of his flesh literally began to melt.  However, due to his unique healing abilities, the damage was quickly curtailed and his flesh began to rapidly heal.  The arms dealer, on the other hand, was not so fortunate.  Shaking the excess substance away, the Hunter looked up to see an unknown assailant standing before him.
 
Assuming that it was yet another assassin who was trying to end his life, William said, "You all must come out of the wood work or something...."  Little did he know that his young man standing before him was not the typical assassin.
 
However, just as the killer raised his bow, the Hunter began to walk in his direction.  The movements which he used were like those of a predator - slowly stalking towards its prey before abruptly engaging it.  Like a lion moving through the grass towards a gazelle, William's route was a direct one.
 
Just then, Death's Reaper let loose an arrow.  However, now that he was fully focused on his target, the Hunter's reactions were much sharper.  As the arrow sped through the air towards him, the Greystoke Legend calmly rose his hand and caught the arrow with his bare hand.
 
"Sorry, William." the assassin said.  "You're being termin-"
 
Suddenly, the Lord of the Lycans sprang into action - snapping his arm forward like the strike of a viper.  With that, he sent the arrow spinning on its axis through the air towards the Reaper.  While the arrow hurdled towards Mark's head, the attack was merely meant to serve as a distraction.  The real attack began as the Hunter quickened his face and lunged forward.
 
Taking to all fours, the Greystoke Legend leaped up towards his assailant and began the vicious assault.  First, he rotated both of his wrists - revealing a clenched adamantium blade in each hand.  While in the lunge, he lashed out with the blade in his right hand in an attempt to slice through the Reaper's bow.  Turning to his left, the Hunter followed through with a left low backhanded strike aimed at the side of his opponent's knee - attempting to literally drive the cold adamantium blade into the bone and force a grotesque separation with a sharp upward jerk.
 
Refusing to give his opponent a gap of any sort (whether physical or mental), the Cerebral Assassin sought to bring on a perpetual onslaught.  Before he was even finished with executing his attack to the Reaper's lower body, the Apex Predator brought his right blade up to attack his opponent's throat.  Throughout the battle, the Hunter would do his best to maintain a close distance and to maintain his perpetual offense.
 
Sure enough, with this opponent, he would need as much aggression as possible....

#3 Posted by Mark_XV (331 posts) - - Show Bio

The Lycan was far superior in reflexes then Mark has suspected before. William's body moved quickly, snatching his arrow out of the air with what seemed to be relative ease. The bewildered Assassin could only watch as his opponent spun the arrow around and tossed it back at him. Mark soon was the victim of his own arrow, now forced to try to avoid the streaking blur that William had so viciously thrown. Mark, who was quick--but not as quick as a Lycan-- was able to raise his hand to block the arrow. It penetrated his flesh immediately. The arrow sliced through his tendons and broke through the bones in several parts of his hand, protruding out the other end a mere hair's length from his forehead. William's aim was to die for. 
 
Mark's hand throbbed as he returned his attention to the Hunter. Although a serious wound, Death's Angel had a healing factor that kept away most of the pain. Even now, his wound was healing, all he needed to do was pull the arrow out. A painful process, but needed. The Phantom didn't have an opportunity to do this however, William was already upon him. The Lycan, who moved with incredibly inhuman speed, jumped up from all fours toward him. Mark realized too late that William had produced deadly blades. His bow was sliced in half immediately. It splintered into several pieces and Mark was forced to relinquish his grip on the make-shift stake and discard it. 
 
The Avenger staggered back in surprise of William's aggressive action. This small bit of--what was supposed to be--misfortune turned to luck as the blade with which the Hunter was trying to sever his knee missed its ideal point. Instead, the cold metal sliced his knee cap, causing blood to ooze out. Mark grimaced in pain at the initial shock of pain that jolted his body. In response however, his body began to repair the wound. It literally began to sow shut, leaving just blood on his leg where a massive gash should have stood. 
 
The Assassin pulled out a dagger from his hip quickly enough to deflect the Hunter's next strike. The blade cleanly sliced through his dagger. What kind of weapon is that? Mark thought in surprise. His deflection had been just enough to avoid a serious wound, and instead the blade slammed into his shoulder. Mark could feel his collar bone severed, the bone sliced cleanly by William's strength. Mark's vision blackened out for a moment as the pain receptors rushed to his head. His focus returned to the battle as the bone began to mend. Now it's my turn!
 
The Phantom used the hand with the arrow still lodged into it to attempt to slap the Lycan in the face. Mark spun quickly to deliver a roundhouse kick with the hope of knocking the well-muscled man onto the ground.  At the same time he yanked the arrow out of his hand. He yelled out as it cut through newly healed skin, which briskly healed once more. The Slayer immediately used this weapon in an attempt to stab the Lycan in the abdomen, releasing his grip on it and pulling out his other remaining dagger.
 
Then Mark went to work, he tried to slash the Lycan across the chest before rolling sideways and attempting to stab it into his rib-cage. In mid-roll he pulled out a tranquilizer dart, one of his strongest concoctions to date. Mark tried to penetrate the Hunter's skin with this, hoping to lull the man into a delirious state. Then Mark somersaulted away from his opponent, using his forearm as stability, to create space. The deadly Assassin instantly produced three throwing knives and sent them flying towards the Hunter's chest--the biggest target available.
 
"I underestimated him," Mark muttered under his breath, panting as a small bead of sweat furrowing on his brow. "It's time to show him what I'm really made of."