Spider-Devil

Matthew Murdock

The vigilante crouches on a high rooftop as he overlooks his city.

Well, overlooks is be a bad word to describe it. As he... studies his city.

The sky is dark, and lights are far and few between. But this doesn't bother the Devil Of Hell’s Kitchen. To him, light serves no purpose.

There are other ways to see.

So there the vigilante sits, sensing his city. He hears every word being spoken, every car that's running, every electric light buzzing. He smells every touch of salt from the water, every bottle of cheap liquor, every hint of copper-

Copper. Blood. Daredevil focuses his attention on the scent, and makes himself listen closer.

Across the city, there is a single voice, a single man, that Daredevil picks out.

“Agh- Note to self... don’t let self be -urg- stabbed." A raggedy voice groans.

Daredevil stands, and, with a running start, leaps off the building he had been crouching on, landing on the next one without breaking stride.

He's too far away to hear the man's heart beat- or to get a sense of the man's age. But he'll get an idea once he gets closer.

The ragged breathing grows louder as Daredevil reaches the building.

Its a boy. Seventeen to nineteen years old.

And he's sporting a stab wound.

"Jesus, this hurts like a bumble-bee." The boy groans.

And that's when Daredevil put the pieces together. "Spider-Man."

"Wha- who- who's there? Show yourself!"

Ah. Daredevil forgot that other people kinda need to see. Whoops.

He steps into the view of the boy, with his hands raised. "I'm not going to hurt you." He promises, taking care to sound gentle, rather than the growl he typically used when in costume. "I just want to help."

"An'- And why should I - urg - trust you, Mr. Devil?" The spider-themed hero questions.

"You shouldn't." Daredevil replies honestly. "But right now, you don't have a choice." Blood is pouring out of the boy at an alarming rate. He won't last much longer. He's already beginning to lose consciousness.

"N-no hospitals." The boy states, a touch of nervousness in his tone.

"No hospitals." Daredevil agrees. "Will you let me help you?"

"The mask stays on." The boy says. Then, he slumps over.

Daredevil picks the boy up, bridal style. Well, not exactly. It's not the heroic move you see in the movies. Daredevil is clutching the hero to his torso, trying to stem the blood loss while moving. There's no flashing lights or lens flares. No impressive explosion in the background.

There's just a blind man in skin-tight kevlar trying to save the life of a young boy before it's too late.