The Shit-Town Saga:

The Blood Circle part 1

A man sat on a bench, contently eating an ice cream cone.  He was a short man with unkempt red hair and a slightly chubby build.  A small, white drip fell on his striped shirt and he happily wiped it clean with the tip of his finger.  Soon, a lean man with dark hair and a goatee came and sat beside him.

“Hey, Freddy,” the dark haired man greeted him gingerly.

“Hi, Joey,” he greeted him back and began biting into his ice cream cone as if to finish it quickly.

“It’s okay, take your time,” Joey spoke slowly to him, his smile never fading.  He noticed Freddy’s shoe was untied and crouched down to tie it, “Lemme get your shoe.”

“Thanks,” Freddy finished the cone, leaving a chocolate smear on his face.

Noticing the small mess, Joe produced a tissue and began to clean his brother’s face, “I think we’re all set today.  Are ya ready?”

“Yep.”

They made their way to Joey’s car and he opened the trunk.  “I made sure of everything upstairs,” Joey assured him, “I didn’t want you to be startled by anything.”  Freddy smiled at him, “I’m fine, Joe.  I’m not scared.”  Joe rubbed his red hair, “That’s my little bro,” then indicated the opened trunk, “So, you can take whatever you want.  Your choice.”  Freddy peered inside and stuck his tongue out as he silently made his decision based on the items displayed – a baseball bat, a hammer, a meat cleaver, a chainsaw, and a gun.  Freddy happily took the meat cleaver out of the trunk and hurried into a nearby apartment building.

As he walked up the stairs, his pants began to droop a bit before he pulled them up.  “Room 24B,” he said to himself and knocked on the door.  Soon, a large man answered and gave him a curious look.  Freddy smiled at him innocently before planting the cleaver into his skull.  The other men in the apartment rose up when the man fell dead and Freddy went to work.  When guns were drawn, hands were sliced off.  If they ran, legs were chopped.  Throats were slit and stomachs were cut open.  Blood sprayed across the walls, furniture, and floor.

Not long after, Freddy exited the building with a briefcase and quickly got into Joey’s car.  “I got the money, Joey,” Freddy said proudly.  “Good job, buddy,” Joey told him, “Mr. Spicolli is gonna be so happy.  We’ll get paid and maybe swing by McDonalds, but we gotta go home soon `cause we got a big day tomorrow.”  Freddy cocked his head curiously, “What’s gonna happen tomorrow?”  Joe smiled at his brother. “We got another job.  Big one!”  They continued down the street.

****

“The FBI and law enforcement are still on the lookout for Nathan Collins, a former motocross rider from Milford, Connecticut.  Collins was arrested for alleged vigilante activities under the guise of the Horseman, the central figure of a vast, multi-state vigilante network comprising mostly of police officers in the Tri-State area.  Collins escaped FBI custody last month and is considered armed and dangerous.  Officials urge anyone with information to come forward…”

The construction worker shut the news clip off and returned his phone to his pocket before going to work, his break time now over.  While he was satisfied with the job, he was still unsure about his new coworkers.

Metal I-beams rose into the air, guided by a man with metallic skin.  Once they were positioned correctly, construction workers bolted and welded them in place.  Below, a large man carried several tons of equipment across the site.  As suggested by the Cavalier, many citizens of Agartha found jobs in construction.  It was reported that hiring metahumans to repair and rebuild damaged buildings in New York sped up the reconstruction process by 50%.  Raphael was still in the hospital after the attack from Hellbender, so he couldn’t visit the worksites personally, but he was proud to hear his people were thriving.

At City Hall, another set of workers attempted to rebuild the building after the Costa Tristen attack.  An interim mayor, district attorney, and a city council ensured the city remained functioning during the expedited elections.  One such mayoral candidate called for a press conference near City Hall.  The middle aged man in the gray suit walked with a brace due to a recent attack from the “Pure Bloods” of Agartha.  Danny Slade was better known to the public as the hero Gatorback , but after being thrown from the top floor of New Agartha, he suffered major injuries that ruined his superhero career.  The doctors explained that, with his superhuman strength, he was able to live through the experience but at his age, he wouldn’t be able to bounce back from broken bones as easily as he could in the past.  It didn’t matter to him.  He wanted to fix the city and recent events made him realize he needed a new approach.

He slowly stepped up on to the stage, leaning on his brace for balance.  Once he approached the podium, he propped it up beside him to free his hands.  “Good morning, New York,” he addressed the small crowd of reporters and curious citizens, “By now, most of you’ve heard that I’ve thrown my hat into the mayoral race.  You might recognize the name Gatorback, but that isn’t my real name.  My real name is Daniel Slade and it would be my honor to be mayor of this city.   I’ve spent years protecting this city against crime and corruption while also atoning for my past mistakes.  Recently, I’ve been rethinking how best I can serve the people of New York and I can think of no better way than this.  If I’m elected mayor, my first order of business would be to ensure people get affordable homes by implementing responsible regulations.  Too many billionaires have exploited the attacks on our city to buy up property and sell it to millionaires.  In fact, an international cartel recently used this sort of practice to sell heroin.  This needs to stop.”

A journalist raised his hand, “What are your thoughts on the Cavalier?”

“I admit I was apprehensive of him for a while, like many of you, but in light of recent events, I’m coming around to seeing things clearer.  I think we were all led astray.”

Another spoke up, “Are you referring to the Horseman and his network within the Tri-State police community?”

“Partially, yes.  It seems evident the Cavalier was targeted by corrupt police officials and I pledge to assist Commissioner Reigns in weeding out any future threats.  Additionally, now that the Horseman has escaped FBI custody, I plan to do everything within my power to apprehend him as well.”

A third journalist spoke up, “Anything to say to the citizens of New York?”

“Sure,” Slade turned to the cameras, “Let’s stop calling it Shit-Town, huh?”

In Southern Connecticut, a series of dilapidated cabins stood in a row within a clearing of trees.  They were once used in a private campsite that had gone under years earlier, but park rangers occasionally ventured to the old site to ensure there were no squatters.  Once they reported strange movement, the FBI caught wind and decided to look into it.

Mano escaped FBI custody shortly after the Star Beast incident and was suspected of taking a number of hired-gun jobs, likely as a means to return to Costa Triste.  The old camp site was a potential hiding spot.  A pair of black boots stomped through dry leaves as the figure approached another cabin.  A mechanical cast was once affixed to his ankle but it had since been removed.  As if to test his remewed strength, the figure kicked the cabin door, nearly breaking it off its hinges as it swung open violently.

The Horseman stepped inside while wielding twin MP5s.  The FBI reported that the Horseman had escaped custody, but in reality, a subset within the agency freed him with the expressed purpose of removing “elusive targets”.  The Horseman obliged as, aside from avoiding prison, it gave him a larger network to work within since many of his police allies were now in prison or even dead. 

When he entered the cabin, he noticed a cheap sleeping bag and empty food containers.  It was obvious someone had been there and possibly left so abruptly that there was no time to remove evidence.  He draped the straps of the guns over his shoulders and began sifting through the trash, eventually making his way to the sleeping bag where he found a piece of paper tucked under it.  He opened the visor of his helmet and picked it up to take a better look – it was a map of the New York harbor front.

An hour later, he rode his motorcycle down an empty road, coming to a stop next to a black BMW.  The tinted driver’s side window rolled down and an agent in a dark suit cocked his head partially out the door while his partner sat silently in the passenger seat.  Agent Calvin glanced down the length of the road to ensure no one was around and began to speak, “Barlowe says the media’s released your name.”

“I thought he had it under control,” the Horseman growled under his helmet.

“He said he would hold them off as long as possible.  He did.”

“You’re wanted in all 50 states, Collins,” the passenger, Agent Hobbs, leaned toward the driver’s window, “It was only a matter of time.”

“Whatever you say,” the Horseman showed them the map taken from Mano’s cabin, “At any rate, I think our target’s headed for this pier.”

“It’s worth a shot.  We’ll go ahead of you, if you don’t mind. Prying eyes and all that.  We’ll alert you when the coast is clear and rendezvous then.”

“Make sure you do,” the Horseman revved up his engine and sped away.

In New York, Michael Hawkwood sat in his father’s living room.

“So Mariah knows you used to be a Cavalier,” Michael began.

“Yep.  When those idiots broke in, it kinda blew my cover,” Arthur told him.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m actually okay with it.  I like her and I should be honest with her anyway.”

“Where does that leave me?”

“I told her I let some other guy take the mantle and left it at that.  Not really a lie.”

“It’s about the best outcome,” Michael ran his hand through his hair, “Speaking of secret identities, the press finally released the Horseman’s name and mugshot.”

“Yeah, hopefully you’ll find that sneaky sonuvabitch.”

“I won’t have to go looking.  He’s gonna end up in the city one way or another.  There’s a lot of unfinished business here.”

“Like Nadie and his little friend?”

“Yeah. Mano’s out there somewhere, trying to get back home. I got a feeling he’s not gonna leave without taking one last shot at me. And the Horseman, of course, has been after Mano.”

“Unfinished business,” his father echoed.

Michael checked his watch as he stood up, “Speaking of which, I gotta go.”

Across the city, Jayden Nash got onto a subway platform and waited for a train.  He once worked for the Costa Tristens and made a lot of money, but once the Star Beast operation was halted, he had to return his car and try to go back to school.  An encounter with the Cavalier inspired him to consider returning to the Metro Knights, but he wasn’t sure they would take him now that he had left.  As he waited for the train to get to his part-time job, he saw a familiar face approach.

“Ey, Jayden,” the large man shouted, “Lemme talk to ya for a minute.”  Jayden knew Anthony from his neighborhood and knew that his appearance wasn’t a good thing. He nervously turned toward the exit but a second man stood by the steps menacingly.  “You worked for the CTs, right?” Anthony asked, “You were sell’n for `em?”

“I didn’t sell, bruh,” Jayden said respectfully, “I just drove.”

“Did you know that shit wasn’t real?” Anthony and his friend closed in on both sides.

“Yo, they told me Star Beast was real, too! How could I know it was fake?”

“I spent a grand on that shit!”

“I told ya, I had noth’b to do with it!”

“Man, gimmie your wallet!”

Jayden reached back carefully to grab his wallet, then exploded into action.  His Metro Knights training returned and he threw an elbow into the bridge of the friend’s nose, then performed a push kick against Anthony.  Anthony fell onto his backside and immediately produced a gun, “You think you’re slick?”  Hayden froze and the friend grabbed him by the shoulders and whipped him around toward the tracks.  Jayden tried to break free but the man was too strong; he rushed him toward the edge of the platform. He was inches from getting pushed onto the tracks.

Suddenly, a black caped figure dropped down, tackling the man to the floor where he remained unconscious.  Anthony fired his gun in a panic but the bullet bounced off protective armor as the figure closed the distance.  His wrist was grabbed, the gun was dismantled, and the train began to approach the platform.  Anthony’s was pushed forward as the train approached, his head held firmly in its path.  “Hey! Hey! Hey!” Anthony shouted as the train barreled down on him. At the last second, he was pulled back and dropped onto the platform.  The train blew past and the Cavalier’s cape flapped menacingly.  “The kid’s under my protection,” Cavalier pointed at Jayden, “Leave him alone or you’ll see me again.”  Anthony quickly ran down the platform and disappeared up a flight of stairs.

“Thanks,” Jayden said quietly.

“Working for criminal organizations has its consequences,” Cavalier told him.

“No shit!  I ain’t work’n for nobody no more!”

“I know, Jayden.  I’m here because I’m interested in your old boss.  Mano’s been doing jobs all over the place.  He’s trying to get back to Costa Triste and I’ve been looking into it for a while.  Know anything?”

“I heard he’s back in town but he ain’t sell’n or anything.  Something big’s going down, but it’s way beyond me.”

“Any idea where he might be?”

“Nah, but I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon enough.”

Cavalier turned to look at Anthony’s unconscious friend and back at Jayden, “You still have moves, but you know it’s too dangerous out here alone now that a lot of these guys were screwed over by the cartel.  You might not be so lucky next time.”

“You gonna keep tell’n me shit I already know?”

“Maybe think about going back to the Metro Knights,” Cavalier began to leave, “You’re a good kid, Jayden.  I know you’ll make the right choices, either way.”

In the Costa Tristen embassy, Ambassador Daniel Guerrero stood in front of a large screen, the face of Nadie looming over him.

“I’ve contacted all interested parties, sir, and I’ve distributed payment accordingly,” Ambassador Guerrero assured him, “Meanwhile, Mano did well, raising funds for his trip home.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Nadie responded, “He wasn’t pleased working with the quality of people he had to do business with.  Tell me about the contractors.”

“My team found the very best.  Professional.  Efficient.  I personally compiled the dossiers as you instructed and Mano should be meeting them shortly.”

“Excellent.”

“On a related note, the Cavalier promised he’d confront you in Costa Triste if further action was taken in the city.  Are we prepared for that possibility?”

“Of course.  However, if all goes well, he’ll die before he can make good on that threat.”

That night, Mano stood in a dark warehouse near a boat dock.  He was silent, letting the dark figures enter one by one; it was good that they were on time.  It showed respect and competency.  The last to arrive were brothers: Freddy and Joey.

“It’s really dark in here,”Freddy told his brother.

“Just listen to our friend,” Joey spoke to his brother in a hushed tone.

“Good evening,” as Mano spoke, he began passing out dossiers to the figures draped in shadows, “My associates have spoken to you, as I understand.  You agreed to the terms set by my employer, but in the spirit of full transparency, let me explain it to you again.  I need to get home and I need your help,” after he handed out the last dossier, he began to pace, “You’ve each received a set of targets.  In addition to the stipend you received up front, you’ll be paid for every target you kill.  Should one of you fail to assassinate a target, the payout for said target will double.  If that assassin fails, the price increases again.  There’s no incentive for killing each other despite everyone being in competition, but there is plenty of incentive for going after as many targets as possible for as long as it takes with increasing profits for killing the ones that are the most elusive.”

“When do we start?,” Freddy asked.

“The game begins immediately,” Mano told the group of killers, “Happy hunting.”

As the small crowd began murmuring to one another, Mano moved to one silent, white-clad figure in the shadows. “As for you, I hope you know your role?”  The figure in the white face mask nodded. “Good.”

Continued…