The night was cold.
The sky was dark.
And the moon shone bright.
On the roof of a building, a figure wearing a black coat with a hood over his head curiously watched as burly men hauled crates into trucks.
"I didn't expect it to be true. The Cult of Diablos reached New York," Shadow muttered, his lips curling up. "But it doesn't matter…"
Swoosh!
His coat swayed with the wind, and he jumped from the roof, falling to the ground.
***
Outside an abandoned warehouse, a group of men kept on hauling crates into a truck, their faces and clothes soaked with sweat.
"Damn, what the hell is in these crates?!" one of the men said to his companion.
"How would I know?" the companion replied, rolling his eyes. "If you're so curious, why don't you ask the boss?"
"I don't dare," the man hurriedly shook his head with fear and continued his work. But immediately he frowned as he noticed that it was only his crate that was entering the truck.
"The hell, man! Don't you dare—"
The man's words hooked in his throat as his eyes opened wide—a black crowbar filled his vision.
Bang!
The man fell to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Shadow calmly twirled the crowbar and stepped out from behind the truck, catching the attention of the other workers.
"Who the hell are you?!" a worker questioned.
Shadow smiled.
"Your doom," he said.
"Doom? Fuck you! We can't let anyone know about this! Kill him!"
Guns cracked and bullets whizzed out from their muzzles toward Shadow, who phased in and out like a ghost, slowly closing the gap between him and a shooter.
Swoosh!
The sharp edge of the crowbar slashed through the neck of the shooter. Amid his futile struggles to stop his bleeding neck, he died.
The remaining men froze; the clicks of their empty firearms jarred in the silent night.
His movements, his skills—there was only one word that appeared in the minds of every man here:
"Mutant…" one of the men muttered in fear.
Shadow didn't answer… he vanished.
When he appeared again, he was behind two men who suddenly clutched their throats, bleeding profusely.
One of the men hurriedly raised a walkie-talkie to his mouth. "S-Sir! We are under attack! A mutant in blac—"
He didn't get to finish his words as he clutched his neck in pain, falling on the cold floor.
"Run!"
One of the men shouted, and the others dropped their guns, turned back, and ran. Shadow gave chase.
"Flail all you want!" His voice echoed in the night, mysterious. "In the grand tapestry of this world, your threads end here."
Shadow's crowbar was like the scythe of the Grim Reaper… and he himself was the Reaper.
Boom!
Suddenly the door to the abandoned warehouse shot out, and in the midst of the thin dust cloud, a figure slowly emerged.
He was fair and bald, his muscular upper body bare, exposing tattoos of different kinds.
"Who dares raid Vertigo business?!" the man screamed with rage.
Shadow paused. With his back to the man, he slightly tilted his head, a single gaze fixed on him.
"Seems like you're the local Bishop of this stage," he said with a smile.
"So you're the bozo terrorizing my warehouse?!" the man screamed. "Do you think you're the only one who has superpowers?!"
The man's body squirmed as his height slowly increased, his muscles growing bigger.
"Interesting. At long last, I'll no longer be bored," Shadow smiled as he slowly approached the man—then he switched to fast, and then he vanished.
'Fast!' The man's pupils constricted, but years of fighting in the street made him keep his composure as he scanned his surroundings.
The wind suddenly surged at his side. 'He's here!' The bulky man immediately took a step back and punched to the side.
Bang!
Fist met crowbar, creating a fierce gale, and the man staggered back.
"As expected of a priest presiding in New York," Shadow smiled as he twirled his crowbar, pursuing the man.
The man hurriedly brought his crossed arms in front of him. Shadow's crowbar didn't attack the arms; when he was a few inches away from the man's arm, he let the crowbar go and then caught it as it fell. Twirling it, he used the blunt side to strike the man in his stomach.
"Ugh…!" The man spat out spittle as he staggered back, his face etched with pain.
"Unfortunately, you met me. Today's the day you meet your end, priest of Diablos."
"What the fu—"
Bang!
A crowbar struck the man's chin, and his head snapped to the side… That was the beginning of his beating.
Bang! Bang!
The crowbar moved like a whip, striking chin, chest, stomach, and legs.
Swoosh!
The crowbar cut through the air and struck the jaw of the man, instantly dislocating it.
Thud!
The man fell heavily, kicking up a dust cloud as his eyes slowly closed forever, a single thought in his head:
'What the fuck is Diablos?!'
***
Shadow calmly surveyed the warehouse and nodded.
"Alpha."
A beautiful blonde-haired woman with long ears appeared behind him.
"Master Shadow," she said with a bow.
"Clean this place," Shadow said and turned back, his mind occupied by a single thought:
'I'm really going to school tomorrow, huh…'
***
A/N: How is it?
I made this novel after a reader request should i drop or continue?