Alvey McConnell - Northern Sector

The sun had already faded into the abyss by seven thirty pm. From his city-like apartment complex, Alvey and all other tenants could hear the gangs outside start waking up from their quiet slumber. One could hear the sirens of police officers and ambulances race through the streets in attempt to reduce the city to silence - but they never managed. The city had been plagued by these thugs and mafia wannabees. One would think that these criminals would come together and tear down politicians, law enforcement, and etc, but that was definitely not the case. These people spent their nights fighting each other, leaving Crown City in embers by sunrise.

Because the city was divided into two sectors - like the equator divides the earth - each side is controlled by a certain Kingpin. Of course, that brings forth the issue of territory which is what the two fight over. Nobody knows the identity of these Kingpins because they always delegate the dirty work to greedy ex-convicts. All this happened because the heroes of yesterday didn't have the balls to put these people down. Instead, they turned them in into the corrupt system that immediately let them back out. It's obvious that with the money these Kingpins have, a third of a quarter of law enforcement is on their side - paid fuckers who don't care about the city, but just want to have their bills paid for little contribution.

Anyhow, the evident truth was that the vigilantes of yesterday were mostly gone. Now, the vigilantes of today roam the nights. These people aren't afraid to do the dirty work the old folk couldn't manage to get done. They would not fear killing these rats, the vermin. Alvey McConell had chosen to become one of these 'dark heroes' as the newspapers deem them. There is controversy over what they do, dividing the public in their favor, while others think they are worse than the criminals they kill. But the only way to clean the city, was to destroy it's disease.

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At eight o' clock Alvey had already strapped up. He had his bullet proof vest, his armory hanging from his shoulders and on his belt. He was prepared to go out there and purge on these criminals. It didn't start off that way, but it gotten to this point. He initially just wanted to find out who had killed his military comrades and declared them AWOL, but the city transformed him. He couldn't bare to see it broken down just like he had been. So now he stands up for the weak and claims the life of the so called strong. These criminals weren't strong, that's why they covered their faces and attacked those who could not fight back.

Someone suddenly knocked on Alvey's door as he was about to make his way out. The man placed the picture of his unit back on the nightstand. Then, he opened it reassuringly after looking through the peephole. After the door was flung fully open, a woman stood there in his door frame with a look of disappointment on her face.

"You're going out again?" she asked him in a whisper, looking directly into his eyes. "It won't bring them back. It won't make you feel any better" the woman persisted, facing him directly without fear. This made Alvey's eye twitch a little, his eyes darting in attempt to not make eye contact.

"It's getting late, I need to go" he stated with his raspy tone of voice. He fixed his belt and walked passed her, shutting the door behind him. The woman stood there as he made his way down the stair, hugging her arms together as her eyes watered.

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Driving through the streets in his black plate-less Dodge Charger, Alvey looked side to side for any suspicious activity. He had a police radio in the vehicle to make sure he got all the updates he needed. That night he was in search of a man nicknamed Killer Shark for the large shark tattoo he has on his back. His criminal record states he had been convicted for more than twenty offenses regarding sexual harassment and illegal firearm distribution. He was a simple thug, but a good one at that. But now, he was about to come across one of the most dangerous person he'd ever meet.

The dark cloaked figure dodged around a corner, ducking into an alleyway as a few gang members ran passed. She took a deep breath, sucking in some of the fabric around her mouth and let it out quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself. She peered back around the corner to see if there were any of them left. There weren’t. She let out a sigh of relief and pulled down her mask from around her mouth. She just shook her head and said, “You have got to work on your endurance, girl.”

“It’s not my fault!” Cora snapped, glaring down at her hands. “You keep going back home with bruises every night, so that makes it kind of hard to actually be able to work on running and crap!”

“Oh, go back into your little hidey hole and let the big girls do the dirty work,” Shadow snarled back and Cora disappeared once again. Shadow drew up the mask around her face and looked around. She saw a rain pipe leading to the top of the nearest building and immediately she grabbed on. She began hoisting herself up over the edge before taking off a sprint down the buildings, leaping with graceful ease from one building to the next. She did a duck and roll onto the final building and jumped up, looking around. She drew out some binoculars from her pouch and looked around for those gang members again. If she could section one off from the group…

She suddenly got still, like a lion who has seen its prey. She saw the group of gang members tracing their way back. The edges of her lips curled up into a cruel smile and she stood on the edge of the building, staring down into the darkened street below. As they approached, she could hear them talking in low hushed voices.

“I swear, she went down that alley!”

“We checked the damn alley. She wasn’t there.”

Shadow smirked and drew her katanas quietly before deciding to use two weapons this time. She drew out one of her pistols, holding it lightly in her hand, and aimed it down below her. She kept hold of both of her katanas in one hand before peering over the edge, waiting for the gang to step underneath her. Three…Two… One… Two shots rang out in the night and there was a sudden flurry of hands and feet, as well as the silver flash of a blade. Within only a few moments, there were only two left: Shadow and the leader. They circled each other, Shadow twirling her katanas with a cocky grin on her face and the leader, looking intimidating and angry.

“I’ve never seen you out here before, girly,” the leader stated, looking at her with wide, slightly creepy eyes. Shadow raised an eyebrow under her mask. “Heroes who are normally out here don’t kill. What makes you so different?”

“You’re going to kill him?!” Cora screeched, suddenly taking control of the body. “I told you, if we were going to do this, we aren’t going to kill!”

“Get out of my business, Cora,” Shadow snapped, trying to regain control of the body. “When you said crime fight, you said do whatever it takes. Well, I’m doing whatever it takes.” Cora forcibly released her control of the body, but that image of a girl arguing with herself was enough to have the leader stare at her like she was a freak.

“You’re loco, chica!” the guy yelled before sprinting off. Shadow groaned and shook her head.

“Now look at what you did,” Shadow snapped. There was no reply. Shadow rolled her eyes. Obviously, Cora was in one of her “moods”. Shadow just turned around and started after the leader of the gang, but not before seeing a glint of light from a rooftop nearby…


“Dammit!” he muttered under his breath, shifting to move his sniper out of the moonlight, but he had already known that the chick had seen him. It didn’t matter if she had or not. She was not his target. Peering down from the high point of the skyscraper, he peering through his binoculars, scanning the area for the distance to his target, a Mr. Jean Goodman, one of the richest lawyers in the world who had taken Ghost’s client for a lot more than had been done. He was supposed to be getting off work at this hour.

Peering through his scope again, he noticed that the chick from early was still chasing after one of the gang leaders of the city. He rolled his eyes and aimed down quietly. He fired a warning shot at her feet. She jumped and slid to a stop, turning around. She looked up at him and just flipped him off before continuing the chase. He shook his head. Fucking rookie. He turned his attention back to his scan and finally, he saw a black SUV pulling out of Goodman’s firm. He smirked. There he is.

He looked down through the scope once more and noticed that the SUV was moving fairly fast. Someone must’ve tipped off Mr. Goodman that his name was up for grabs in money. Ghost smirked underneath his pale white mask. Well, this should be easy enough. He followed the car for a couple blocks, making sure to line up the shot perfectly before…

Boom.

It was your typical evening in Crown City. People were still playing the everlasting game of "kill or be killed." Smoke arose from a building or two due to whatever kind of arson occured. (Because let's face it: when was the last time Crown City had a legitimate kitchen fire?) However, there was something peculiar. If you had a telescope, and aimed it at the rooftop of 387 South Third Avenue, you would come across a rather shady and mysterious humanoid silhouette just standing on top of the building. Only thing was, that was not a humanoid silhouette. It was an actual human. A vigilante. Her name was Midori Saito, or, better known as, 'Katana.'

At this point, if you're not scared shitless and are still peering through said telescope, you might be wondering, "What is she doing there?" Well, funny you asked. Should you drive by 387 South Third Avenue, you will come across a decrepit and shabby tenement complex. (Provided it's not set on fire like half of the city.) You may still be wondering, "What is so special about a stupid apartment building?" Inside said "stupid apartment building," you will encounter neither tenants or landlords. Just a shitload of thugs, with a shitload of guns, with a shitload of ammunition. It's simple, really: it's just another gang in this city already crammed with the unfortunate organizations.

Katana wasn't there for the lowly thugs. Oh, nonononono. She was there for a much greater cause. These thugs worked in tandem with a much more powerful person. A person by the name of Stacey Wright. It was a few years back when her quest for vengeance against this woman began. She murdered her parents. Her mother and father. Two people who Katana held close to her. And now Stacey Wright must get what she deserves. There is no jail sentence. Only a death sentence.

Katana figured that by wiping out these thugs, she would learn the whereabouts of Stacey Wright, specifically by drawing her out. Once she notices that there is a gap in her criminal network, surely she will have to investigate herself. And so Katana did just that. She infiltrated the complex via an entryway on the rooftop. (You know, one of those stairways you see in movies.) It didn't take much time for some thugs to take notice of what's going on. Nor did it take much time for Katana to swiftly decapitate and thrash up those same men. It was a most bloody scene, but Katana was used to it, so she didn't care. (You'd think after seeing chopped off heads almost every day for two years, she'd still be scared.) Down the corridors she hurried, floor by floor. She was searching for one thing: an explosives cache.

These thugs, being the idiots most criminals are, stored their explosives cache right next to their drug and firearms cache. As well, they all decided it would be best if they all guard the many caches in one area. (Because surely if the explosives go off, they'll be fine?) It only took one quick spark (and 25 headless bodies plus 132 lacerations) to give these criminals a run for their money. Lucky for her, there already was a gaping hole in the wall to make her escape from. (There were like a thousand more holes in the walls around the entire building, but let's not get into that right now.) The orange inferno raging behind her didn't really concern her. She just kept running away, without even considering to turn around. (You know, like those badass guys in the movies?)

"Imbeciles," she uttered under her breath, recalling the thug's pathetic defense against her. It was just a few hours after the event where Katana was yet again to be found on the rooftops of Crown City. "What's done is done. Now, I just have to wait. That derelict woman can't hide forever. For the meantime, I guess I'll just find something else to kill time."

Outskirts of Crown City, Northern Sector

It was 7:36 PM, according to Viktor's wristwatch. Night time began to settle in. An orange Dodge Challenger R/T stops in front of an abandoned building at the outskirts of Crown City. Viktor gets out of the car as he slams the door shut and heads to the trunk, which he opens up, pulling outside a man, all blindfolded and tied up. After closing the trunk, Viktor gets inside the building, unties the man, puts him on a chair and ties him up again. The man didn't put up a fight at all because Viktor sedated him. By Viktor's watch he should have waken up by now. The man slowly starts to wake up as Viktor pulled the blindfold from his eyes. "Wake up sleeping beauty!" Said Viktor slapping the man on the face once. "What? Who are you? Where am I?" Asked the man, scared as he looked around him and then at Viktor, who was sitting on another chair with his arms crossed. "Does it really matter? What matters is that tonight you're going to die. Now don't get me wrong, it's nothing personal...just business. Somebody hired me to kill you. But he wants me to torture you first and record the whole thing so he can see it. That's what that camera is for." Said Viktor as he got up from the chair and started walking around as he was talking. The tied up man looks down for a second then back at Viktor.

"I bet this is Art's work isn't it? He's the one that hired you to do this right? I always knew he wanted the company for himself but I never imagined he'll go this far." Said the man with a rather upset tone at Viktor, who smiled and started clapping his hands. "Congratulations Frank. You don't mind if I call you Frank right? Indeed that is the answer to the secret question. I assume you deserve to know since you're gonna die anyway. Yes! You business partner payed me 15.000 $ to get rid of you. Now I don't know what kind of problems you two have with each other, but from what I noticed...he clearly hates you! But whatever. It's not any of my business so I don't wanna know. Let's get this show on the road." Said Viktor, pulling out his Gerber Mark 2 knife and heading towards the camera and starting to record everything. "Wait a second, before you go any further...I got a proposition for you. I'll give you double, hell even triple if you let me go." Said the man in a last effort to save his own life. "Really? You're going to give me all that money just so I can let you go?" Said Viktor with a surprised look on his face as he headed to the camera and closed it. "And what about your business partner? He's expecting me to torture and kill you!" Continued Viktor.

"Do whatever you want with him. Kill him, beat him into a coma, whatever, just make sure he dosen't bother me anymore. All I want is to run that company in peace and right now, i'm tired of his threats and demands." Said the man with a fast paced tone as sweat was coming down his forehead. "You know what Mr. Jones? I can be many things, but never a backstabber. So I think you've found the wrong person to make deals like that with. On the other hand, your proposition is very tempting, and hard to ignore." Said Viktor as he headed towards the man and cut with his knife the ropes that tied him. The man rised from the chair relieved and surprised at the same time. Both he and Viktor were looking at each other, both waiting the other one's move. "I think I will hate myself for a while but like all things, it will pass. Now get in the car, in the back seat and stay there. I'll finish this conflict between you and him tonight." Said the man as both he and Viktor got inside the Challenger, with Viktor starting the car and heading back into the city. As he was driving he pulled out his cell phone and called Art. "Mr. Tennison, this is Viktor Rebrov. I have your nice little torture tape right here. Oh and uhhh, your partner Frank Jones is dead. Where do we meet so we can finish this deal?" Asked Viktor waiting for a response as he steered to the right.

"Yes. I know where it is. I'm heading there right now." Said Viktor closing his cellphone and putting it back in the pocket. "It seems you're in luck. Art wants me to meet him right now in the parking lot of the Aces and Eights night club." Said Viktor looking in the rear view mirror at the man who was a mix of feelings right now and didn't know how to react. He just took a deep breath and made himself more comfortable.

Bombshell - Charlie Wilcox - Northern Sector

As night fell, the underground came to life in Crown City.

That's where Charlie waited that night, at the bar of a discreet club located in the literal underground. It was marked outside only by a staircase that lead from the broken sidewalk of a city street into the basement of an old building. It was the type of the place you could only discover if you already knew it was there. No one really knew how it had earned the name "The Gravestone".

Although she was fully clad in leather Bombshell gear, the pink-haired vigilante didn't especially stand out. The were a number of attendees wearing costumes, some with the distinct themes and others with loud clashes of color or stand-out materials. Many of the ensembles were accompanied by a mask. In effect, the long, statuesque figure longing by the bar in a gas mask didn't stir too many questions. At least, nothing apart from the numerous variations of, "Can I buy you a drink?" Each time she declined. Usually, Charlie didn't mind a free drink, but tonight the sea of freaks could be nothing more than decent cover as she stalked her prey.

His name was Ralph Caine, and she had spotted him early in the evening when he had entered The Gravestone. He was traveling with a small entourage of security. It seemed he wasn't brave enough to travel unprotected, but not notable enough to require heavy muscle. That would work in Charlie's favor. He wore a grey, pin-stripe suit with a matching black tie. His shoes were in need of shining. Charlie judged him to be the type of man that like to assert himself as important, but lacked the detail to attention to really carry it through. He was playing at the life of wealth that she had been born into.

She watched as he slipped into a back room with a woman that he had been entertaining; she was scantily dressed as something akin to a bumble-bee. Charlie waited a few beats of her heart. One, two, three... It pounded heavily. It was hard to contain her excitement.

Her leather body fluidly slid from its perch on the stool. She glided through the crowd of party-goes as if she were parting a multi-colored sea. At the door, a large man - whom she feared would rip his suit if he flexed - lifted a meaty hand to stop her. Without missing a beat, she pressed a large bill to his rock-solid chest. He paused, looking down at the bribe, then back up at her curved body clad in leather. He still seemed unsure.

Her hand lifted to pull the mask up and off, shaking out her pink waves of hair. She gave him a charming smile, "I was hoping to meet Mr. Caine tonight. I know it's probably against the rules...but do you think you could let me through? Please?" The guard shifted between his feet. He didn't seem to view her as a threat, yet he sternly stated "He's occupied." She pouted her pink lips, clutching her mask to her chest, "Theres enough to share. He'll thank you for this, I swear." He hesitated. Finally, he pocketed the money and let her pass. Rookie.

The room she stepped into was dimly lit, the air quickly filling with thick smoke from the end of a lit cigar hanging from Ralph Caine's mouth. He was lounging on one of the many plush love-seats that furnished the room. Quietly, she closed the door behind her. He and his companion were too distracted to notice her entrance until she came upon them. The bumble-bee looked at her indignantly when Charlie clutched her uncovered shoulder and gave a cold, "Beat it." The bumble-bee parted her lips to argue, but was met with a cold glare that immediately ended any argument before it began.

Once she had skittered from the room, the man on the other end of the cigar curled his lips into a sly grin, "My, my...aren't we impressive." As he analyzed her 'impressiveness,' he straightened in his seat and gathered the cigar from his lips, flicking the ash carelessly from the tip, "What can I do for you, princess?"

The charm drained from her soft features, "You can tell me where the Killer Shark is." A look of confusion wrinkled Caine's face. Charlie lowered the gas mask over her face as she reached for a canister along her belt, "Oh, honey...I'm not going to ask nicely again."

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Approximately 10 minutes later, Charlie bursted through the back entrance of The Gravestone. She sprinted, a black shadow with a flash of pink hair, to a waiting motorcycle hidden from view. In a fluid motion, she gathered the rocket launcher from the seat and slipped it onto her back, gliding into place on the bike. The backdoor of The Gravestone flew open with an angry, "Stop her!" as Charlie went screeching from the lot, flying towards the location that a now passed-out Caine had been forced to give her.

Alvey McConnell

The Dodge Charger, a very familiar vehicle in Crown City. It had been a very popular car during the last few years - affordable and very practical. The difference between the stock Charger and Alvey's was one: the engine. Straddled with a V8 LS3, the car's torque and horsepower were off the roof - and despite it's simplistic look, it was a rather beast on the street. Secondly, the windows were bulletproofed with acrylic material and could last quite a while against automatic weapons. Last but not least, the entire car was enforced from the outside. All of it was surfaced with Kevlar material - a bulletproof metal - which made Alvey's car metaphorically a tank on the road.

Despite all these modifications, the vehicle looked like any other Charger on the street. It didn't have decals, it didn't have fancy thug life rims, nothing. It was a plain black tinted ride that could compete against any adversary. Anyhow, as Alvey continued to roam the dark abyss of Crown City, his police scanner started to go off. Robbery in progress, car accidents, hold-ups, everything you can imagine was all happening at once. And where were the cops? Probably still at the doughnut shops eating away their corrupted paychecks. Despite the numerous crimes Alvey could follow up on, he was on a mission. He had a lead and was not going to miss his opportunity to get rid of one of the biggest scum in the city.

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After a distant ride from his home, the man finally came across his destination. A 'friend' of his managed to get him an address to an approximate pinpoint location on Killer Shark's whereabouts. The criminal had become difficult to target because nobody ever spoke his real name, nor did they ever speak of him period. They feared the Shark because he wasn't afraid to kill. Many criminals in this city had a brain, they were smart and knew their limitations. But this man Killer Shark was breaking all the rules. He started to become an example to the younger generation that oppression was not real - just a figurative idea that was created merely in oneself. That's why he was so dangerous and needed to be stopped. Because if he wasn't, there would be more of him on the streets in the near future.

So upon reaching the address, Alvey parked across the street and switched his headlights off. Before him was a ragged apartment complex that had seemingly evicted all of its tenants just a week prior to this day. Apparently someone had purchased the entire place with cash and nobody asked questions.

Turning to his passenger seat, Alvey opened up the black gym bag the had laying there. Inside were various weapons and equipment, all prepared to kill anybody that brought harm to this city. He pulled out his pistol and made sure it was loaded - there was no room for error. In addition, he screwed on a silencer in order to stay in the shadows once he entered. His MP5 was also there and soon strapped around his shoulder as he left his car. The man stood there in silence for a second, vision eavesdropping in all directions. Still to this day Alvey has a hard time believing in the terrors this city had fallen to. He had been born to the era when heroes prospered, but that was long ago.

When they started to fall one by one, Alvey was there. The news would broadcast the deaths of these heroes. Nowadays they are called vigilantes, but before, they were definitely the good guys. The only way to clean up the city now is to destroy it and reconstruct from its ashes. With all these criminals owning half of everything, its difficult not to need them dead. Jails and prisons are as corrupted as banks. There is no hiding the fact that these gangsters run what their money can buy - it's that simple.

But anyhow, there was no time to dwell on the problems of the entire city. There was a task at hand and it was Alvey's turn to act. In a slow jog, the man started for the apartment building, keeping his eyes as keen as possible to not be seen. He dashed through the alley way, making his way to the backside of the building as the rap music blasted through the closed windows of said building. Upon reaching the back - a private parking lot - he pulled out his pistol and slowly opened the door. It was an empty corridor that seemed to lead to the front desk. He could hear chattering up there, so crouched as he made his way in. It seemed like they weren't expecting company and forgot to lock the doors.

Step by step his made his way closer to the front. He could see a man's arm from where he was and lifted his weapon accordingly. As he shortened the distance between him and front desk, he could now see the entire man's stature along with the other man he was speaking to. Alvey looked at the floor in search of something and found a little stone which he picked up. Without a word, he tossed the stone at the front door, which caused both men to pause their conversation and turn to the door. "What the hell?" one of the men said, but those would be his last words as Alvey rushed out of hiding and shot him directly in the head. The silenced bullet went through the man's entire skull and pierced the upper wall. The other guy lunged backwards off his chair in attempt to pick up his rifle, but it was too late. Alvey had turned by then and let three bullets inside the man's carcass. Nobody heard anything because the music continued to play and definitely hid the actions of the first floor.

Swiftly, Alvey reloaded and started up the stairs. There was seven floors, and it didn't seem that the music initiated in the second. It wasn't loud enough just yet. So with caution, the reached the second and started to clear the rooms one by one. One shot here, two shots there. In one of the rooms, a guy was having intercourse with a woman. He rushed forward, pulled the guy off the girl and fired two shots in his chest. What he didn't see coming was that the woman yelled at the top of her lungs. "Shut up!" Alvey yelled back at her, covering her mouth and putting the gun to her head. "Shut up! Shut up or I'll shoot you" he grunted at her face, his eyes red. Suddenly everything changed when the music came to a halt and people yelled "Get the guns!"

It was war time.