Operative Falcon/The Rescue

From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe

(( With thanks to Ascendant for the inspiration. ))

Help me

The alleys hear those words often. The alleys don't care.

Help m-

The thugs don't care either. Their leader covers the frightened woman's mouth, pinning her to the wall even as he grins victoriously to his two companions. The alpha gets to dine first, the rest can only hope for sloppy leftovers.

Suddenly, they notice him. He's standing at the mouth of the alley, a polyresin silhouette black against the lit street, red eyes glowing menacingly. Like animals, the thugs want to run but, as much as they fear him, they fear the embarrassment of flight more. They outnumber him, and it quickly restores their confidence. The leader barks out an order. and his flunkies yell and charge, one with a knife previously stuck behind a waistband, the other dropping the woman's purse next to its scattered contents to grab a worn baseball bat leaning against the brick wall.

He smiles under his face-concealing helmet, stepping forward. He realizes he overestimated their intelligence as they come at him almost one by one. The heavy baton feels good in his hand. The first swing catches the slicer on the shoulder, the studded weapon biting into it painfully. The thug yelps and drops his weapon, gripping his injured shoulder when a backhand catches him on the side of his head. It refuses to go away. He feels himself pulled down by his hair, then the sudden pain of a broken nose, then nothing more.

He lets the unconscious thug collapse, taking a step back. The slugger yells as he swings, the bat sailing over its target's head safely. A quick punch finds the thug's jaw, but he proves made of stronger stuff than his companion, gripping the black armor. Still, his bandanna proves poor protection against a helmet's dome, and he too slumps to the ground.

He looks up, at the last opponent. The leader had pulled the whimpering woman from the wall and was now holding her in front of himself, the barrel of a stub-nosed revolver to her temple, voicing his intentions loudly. The Wolf Spider pauses only for a moment, striding towards them intently. The thug repeats his threat, but his voice breaks up. He panics when he realizes his bluff is called. The leader tries to aim at the soldier, but the baton catches his arm. Bones break, and he lets go of his victim. She falls to her knees, screaming, but the thug screams louder than she ever did. The second swing silences him.

The woman, given the scare of her life, tears still streaming down her face, looks up at her savior, and into two rows of red lenses. Her heart sinks as she realizes she is now, if anything, at the mercy of an even more dangerous predator. But he doesn't care for his prize, moving his attention to the unconscious thugs. She collects her possessions as he puts away his baton and turns away to leave. He calls in to report and for the clean-up crew. Those three won't be moving anywhere on their own for a while, but it doesn't matter.

This is Etoile, he knows, where the weak exist only at the mercy of the strong like him, and he'll find another fight this night, and another, and another. There are Villains here, those who foolishly think themselves strong enough to take what they want.

He marvels, once again, how fortunate he is to live in a City full of them.

He wonders, once again, why he would choose to live anywhere else.