A new day means new opportunities and new targets. Things happened just like I had predicted. The sheriff came by and asked me what I was doing at 7:30 in the school, and after I told her I was studying, she believed me and explained everything that had happened to the teacher. Luckily, my parents were asleep when this happened, so I didn't have to worry about getting a beating from my parents for them believing I had caused problems again. As I drank my coffee; it helped calm my nerves, isn't that ironic; my phone rang.
"Hello?" I asked, using my jokeful tone seeing that this was Robin.
"Wally? Did you hear?" He asked.
I separated the phone from my mouth and sighed, not wanting to hear all about the dead teacher again, and returned to it, with a curious voice. "What was I supposed to hear?"
"Dude, one of your teacher's been murdered. In his own classroom!"
"Seriously?" I asked, wondering what I could eat before I left for my... eh... me time.
"Yeah! From what I heard, he was stabbed, but the cause of death was a- wait for it-" He said, trying to add to the suspense. I just held in a sigh. "A knife to the head!"
"No way! That couldn't have happened!" Better play along with him.
"I'm not kidding, Wally. A chick from your English class walked in, and there she found the dude, dead. Amazing thing is there was a note there."
"Really?" I already knew of this. For I had placed it.
"Yeah, you know that Vigilante who has been making the gangs drop like flies?" Of course I did. "It was his calling card."
"Seriously? No way, dude. What did it say?" It hurt me to speak like this.
"Something along the lines of 'This filth was a murderer, raping innocents, damaging lives of the innocent. He got what he deserved'." Strange, he said it word for word.
"No way, there's no way my teacher could be the man he's describing." I feigned my shock, and started looking through the fridge to see if there was anything good to eat.
"Dude, they found a girl in his trunk!" Robin exclaimed.
"Man, that's not possible! I don't believe you!"
I heard him sigh, and then said, "Just turn on the News. Look, I have to go, see you later."
I gagged as I finally ended the call, then decided to look through the cabinets for breakfast. It's not that I didn't like Robin, it's just that he wouldn't see things the same way I do. I mean, Batman is strict on his no killing rule, but I believe that you do what you must when it comes to these scum. I see the bigger picture, if you will.
I grabbed an apple as my breakfast, then got some paper and a pen from the drawers. I wrote down that I would be out until curfew, and that the police was not to be called, grabbed my backpack, then left the house, speeding towards Star City. Today was a free day from both school and the Team, seeing that I was supposed to be using today as a study day for final exams, and the rest of the team had school or shit like that.
Star was bursting with the gang life, and I was to clean it up. Ollie and Roy were doing a somewhat okay job, but I had to step in right now, because the gang violence was becoming too much. They were getting overwhelmed and they didn't even notice it. Maybe see if my friend would finally let me get a tattoo.
There's this new man in Star. Name's Tony DiMaggio. Another name, 'The Slug'. He favors the use of guns, bats, brass knuckles, and knives. Now this man, he wasn't at the top of my list until yesterday. You see, while I was… uh… 'taking care' of Mr. Jameson, he decided it would be a good idea to boast about how he would be able to take on any and all vigilantes that came at him.
And cue me getting mad. I didn't take lightly to anybody saying that they were better than me. I'm actually surprised I haven't lashed out at Artemis for her constant boasting about how she's better.
In my backpack, I had everything I needed for my vigilante persona. My dirty brown trench coat, raggedy and torn cowboy hat, all of my weapons, my boots, gloves, and my black bandanna. You should have a mental picture of what I wear when doing the right thing.
"I don't quite get what you're getting at, Bruce." Dick told his adoptive father as they looked over the details of Mr. Jameson's murder.
"Wally was the last person to see him alive, Dick, he should know something." Bruce told him, a little tired of his son being so dense.
"Bruce, this is Wally we're talking about. Wally. You know, Barry's nephew? The team's comic relief?" Dick continued.
Bruce glared at him, then said, "I'm not saying that he murdered him, Wally. I'm saying that he should know something."
Dick sighed, then said, "Come on, Bruce. We all know that it was the Vigilante. He even left his calling card."
Bruce was now getting mad. "Dick, I'm not saying that Wally did it! I'm saying that he should have noticed that something was off with his teacher!"
Dick cowered back, knowing that he had to stop bothering Bruce now. "I'm going to Star." Bruce announced, swiftly getting up from his seat.
Dick looked up at him, "Why?"
"This gangster, Tony DiMaggio said that he could take on any hero." Bruce told him.
"DiMaggio? Wasn't that the wanted drug trafficker from here?" Dick asked.
"Hit it right in the bulls eye, Dick. Alfred will stay with you while I'm gone."
It's funny, how people change so quickly when there's a gun to their head or a knife to their neck. The squealer wasn't older than twenty, and was taller than me by a few inches, and he had some muscle over me, but the revolver pointed straight at his temple was perfect means of getting information.
"I swear, that's all I know!" He was hyperventilating now.
I cocked my head to the side, and pressed the trigger tightly. "You sure? Is that all you know?" I asked him.
He was close to pissing in his own pants, but that didn't dissuade me. He knew something else. "Okay! He has a new bodyguard!"
I smiled at this, and even though he couldn't see it, he seemed to get even more scared. "Oh, really? What's his name?"
He now had tears running down his face along with snot, and I couldn't help but think that they just didn't make scum like they used to. I mean, I just pointed a gun to his face and he was chattering like a somewhat coherent monkey.
"I don't know!"
I just shoved the gun a little harder into his head, and squeezed the trigger a little more, and he was singing like a canary. Heh, wonder if Black Canary would sing like him if I had a gun pointed to her face.
"Okay! He's under the protection of a man called the Hood! The Red Hood!"
I growled at this, and put my gun in it's holster, and took out my knife. This was taking up too much time. "Either you give me the answer I'm looking for, or you start losing fingers." I growled.
He was now sobbing. "Okay! Okay! The Hood's in there as a body guard to DiMaggio! H-he asked to be protected from the people that would show up!"
"Wasn't the Red Hood the Joker?" I asked him.
"I-I don't know! The people from Gotham are crazy, you know?" He asked me, seeming to want to strike up a conversation.
I smiled evilly at this, and moved the knife towards his neck, "Good, now tell me all you know about the Hood."
"I-I don't know much about him!" He cried. "H-he showed up a year or two ago and now he's running most of the criminal gangs!"
"What's his policy?"
Every man like him, a man that had all the gangs under his protection, had a policy to protect them. For some you had to pay a hell of a lot of money. For others you need to follow all his rules, and if not... well... Let's say you'd be better off dead.
"No giving drugs to kids! Y-you can't drag anyone younger than eighteen into this things!"
I nodded at this, feeling a sense of respect for this 'Hood', then slammed the squealer against the wall. "Is that all?"
"That's all I know! I swear!"
"To who do you swear?" I asked him, smiling at the idea that came into my mind.
He stopped sniffling and crying at this question, but when I moved the knife's tip to touch his neck, he answered, "I swear to God!"
I moved the knife away from his neck, then swiftly plunged it into his stomach. His eyes widened and he gasped like a fish out of water. As I retracted the knife, I moved my head so my mouth was near his ear. "Swearing to God is a sin." I whispered, then I let him fall to the floor, to die in his own filth.
I walked away from the alley in Star, wiping the knife on my trench coat; which was already dirty with the blood of my other targets; and I took off running to the warehouse district. I swear, it seems that every city that has a hero has a warehouse district. Metropolis has one. Star has one. Gotham has two. Central and Keystone share one. It's like the government is asking criminals to live there.
Apparently, DiMaggio and this Hood were staying at the abandoned steel making warehouse, and they were making drugs there. Apparently, DiMaggio made heroin, marijuana, and a few more synthetic drugs that just weren't supposed to be made anywhere.
"The good things in life I will always refuse, the worst things in life I will always abuse." I whispered to myself, humming the tune of one of my favorite songs. What can I say? It speaks to me.
As I snuck around the warehouse, trying to pinpoint the right one; I'm not originally from Star, so don't judge me; I noticed that it was awfully quiet.
'You may be walking right into a trap.' A little voice in my head told me, making me smirk.
"Yeah, a trap for them." I told it, and quieted down as a group of four men passed by.
"Did you hear about Joey?" One of them asked.
"Yeah, killed by that Vigilante." The other said.
"You think he's coming here?" The biggest and dumbest looking one asked.
"Could be. But, remember, we're under the Hood's protection. He can't hurt us none." The last one spoke, then they were gone, leaving me with a smirk.
This Hood must really be something for them to feel safe while they know I killed one of their own. This should be fun. I quietly trailed the group; leaving a bug on one of their jackets; hiding into the crooks of the warehouses whenever someone walked too close, and other times just cutting the person's neck. I came upon the biggest warehouse, and they entered, leaving me smiling.
I just love how stupid most of these crooks are. I jumped onto the ledge of the side of the warehouse, going up the fire escape and stopping in front of a window. Inside was the normal drug place scene, machinery to move and make the drugs, men and some women walking all around, bustling through their jobs, and two men at the very middle of it.
One was my main target, Tony DiMaggio, and the other was my secondary target, the Red Hood. Tony looked a lot like the Iron Man, you know, his civilian and billionaire version? Well, he looked a heck of a lot like him. The Red Hood was wearing a brown jacket, black pants with guns attached, a red helmet, and he was glaring at anyone that got too close.
The man who I had bugged walked up straight to them, and I fixed my comm.
"What happened with Joey?" Tony asked, even though he didn't sound curious at all.
"Murdered by the Vigilante." The man answered.
There was a scoff, then the Red Hood spoke, "You're getting your asses kicked by what could be a teenager."
My eyes widened at this, along with Tony's. "And why do you think that?"
"Well, let's put what he's done aside. His messages to the police, while they are very good at imitating maturity, still show that he doesn't feel very impulsed to do this, much like a teenager hates to do what he's told. And, from the pictures I have seen and the descriptions of his body, he's smaller than most adults, which leads me to believe he's either a teen, or a very tall midget."
"There's no way a kid could have done this!" The thug exclaimed.
Red Hood turned to glare at him, and asked, "Do you know how many sidekicks there are on this Earth? Robin's only thirteen, and if given the right push, he would be doing the same things to you."
The man was now red, but Tony stopped him before he could say anything. "There is no need to bother the Red Hood, Mickey. Now get back to work." Then the man was gone.
I glared at the Red Hood, but put my feelings aside and walked towards the electrical conduit. Let's see just how dangerous a teenager gets when he feels indignated.
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