Gothic City, Time: 0200
It's been only a few days since the disappearance of Dark Vengeance, the caped vigilante who refused to turn a blind eye to the world that decayed around him. Despite his efforts, his hiatus has left Gothic City festering and crime didn't waste any time making their moves. Every crime imaginable, ranging from hourly robberies to daily murders of top officials and local civilians swelled news stations and overwhelmed police forces.
It was never my dream nor desire to fight crime. My only wish was to find my sister, not clean up the streets of a city I had barely called home...But...Whatever little connection I have to this city, I do still call it home and feel some sort of obligation to it. Not a night goes by where the screams of the innocent haunts my dreams and torments me for my lack of effort to quell the anarchy.
No matter how many times I try to convince myself that it's not my place to lift a finger for these ungrateful people.I have no right to assume authority over a system no matter how corrupt it is. I just need to find my sister and get out of this city. I just need to leave this place with her and build a new life on a clean slate where no one knows our names and the identity of 'Vex' will only be a bad dream from a stressful day at the office.
Did Dark Vengeance question himself like this? Was he ever filled with so much doubt and hesitation as I am? No...He couldn't have been. He saw the pain and suffering of others and put a stop to it, even if it meant sacrificing his own identity, his body, his soul, and his morality. All of this, for these people. And here I am, a kid secretly worshipping an idol that I have no intention of following. Or am I just too scared to follow him? Are his boots too big for me too fill and are the obstacles ahead of me too great to overcome? When I find my sister, how can I look into her eyes and tell her that I abandoned innocent people when they needed me most?
This city can't die, not like this. Dark Vengeance has endured too much for these people for his legend to just die and for me to yield to it's transgressions and atrocities. My attention diverts to the shawl in my palms. It's tattered and torn cape feels like silk between my fingers as I rub the bullet holes that pierced the sides. A small token I had found for sale at a pawn shop that claimed to be the real thing and actually belong to the hero. No one bought it because it lacked proof of it's authenticity, but it didn't matter. Not to me. It's ebony cloak and worn down fabrics were a symbol that pushed me. Telling me in my mind whenever I was beaten or thrown down, "This isn't the end. Others have suffered worse."
If no one wants to rise against the evil here, then I will. I grip the outfit and make a hasty stride towards the back closet of my room where I had the memento hanging behind a sewing machine. The tailoring tool came in handy plenty of times for repairing my own suit after a night's hard work of investigation that took its own battle scars and this was no exception.
An hour later and I'm on a tower roof, scanning the alley below. A group of masked men prepping themselves for a liquor store robbery where I happen to know the owner, Mrs. Bailey. A widow for the past five years who sends her profits to the local charities and orphanages, one of the few clerks who decided to maintain their store hours to continue to help support those charities. These men don't care though. Its just another score for them, and another crime scene for investigators, but not to me. Not anymore. Now it's more personal than it has ever been.
The outfit is a little hard to manage since Dark Vengeance was older and had a bigger build than me. The awkward feeling of the cowl causes a strain on my neck as it cuts my reaction time, but I've gone too far now to for Dark Vengeance to die. I rise off my reconnaissance position and take a deep breath before diving down towards the center of the mob grappling the largest man holding a pistol and twisting him to the ground. I contort my body around his into a sleeper hold and my arms constrain his neck so tightly, that he goes unconscious before the rest of the group can acknowledge my presence. It's too late, I'm already on the next two, driving my left steel lined boot into one of their sides crushing a few ribs and right elbow striking the collar bone of the next one. My movements are hindered by the cape, but still remarkably swift for a normal eye to follow. The last man is trembling with the short knife in his hand as this all occurs in a matter of a few seconds. He's consumed my fear and too astonished by me to be any sort of a threat.
"You're n-not suppose t-to be here. You're gone! W-WHO ARE YOU!?"
I don't smile. Not this time. Vex smiled. Alexander Rook smiled. They're dead right now.
"I am Dark Vengeance, and I never left."
After all, he never smiled.
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