Today was supposed to have been just another typical day for Abaddon. He'd go out, scout the city for trouble, stop a few crimes, and then deliver the perpetrators to the League like any good hero working for justice. Sort of... Not really. While Abaddon did turn in most of his subdued criminals, he actually had the habit of stashing the rest of them in inconspicuous places to be tried before him later. One of the most common places of storage was the slaughterhouse district, which was a perfect place to conduct any kind of questionable activities in secret. It was well removed from many populated areas, and it was even completely abandoned as an added bonus! In that place, Abaddon was free to deliver his own style of justice, one which removed the right to a "fair" trial by jury, the right to remain silent, and the right to a humane punishment when found guilty. Punishments included but were not limited to psychological terrorizing, dismemberment, vivisection, being eaten alive, and a simple execution by beheading. It seemed, as he'd tell the guilty, that the district was still in the business of putting down animals!
So yes, if you hadn't guess it already, the slaughterhouse district was the place where Abaddon would play the roles of judge, punisher, and executioner. He wasn't dumb about it though, and was in fact very meticulous about leaving no trace of himself and his actions behind. It wasn't hard to do that really, especially with his all consuming energy that easily vaporized any and all evidence. And of course, he kept all of this a secret, and really never had to be wary of anyone stumbling across the district by accident... at least until he arrived there to make sure that nothing strange was going on since he, like some of the mages back at the League, had been feeling a lot of ominous energy coming from the area. Either a rogue spirit had decided to haunt the place, or another group of amateur dark mages had tried a conjuring ritual that had gone horribly wrong. Much of the dark power seemed to be emanating from the main abattoir itself, but before Abaddon could actually investigate it he heard what sounded like a miniature airplane approach the area and quickly took cover in one of the empty buildings.
It was a VTOL sent by the League. In it were three notable League members: Furious, Arachnid, and Saint Michael. Well... Shit. Abaddon growled lowly as he readied himself for a fight. That's why those three were here right? Because the League had somehow become aware of Abaddon's activities and had decided they'd capture him like they would any other criminal or supervillain? That wouldn't be happening on Abaddon's watch anytime soon...
And it didn't. To his surprise none of them began to spread out and search for him but instead headed for the main slaughterhouse together. It seemed they were here for the same reason he was. That was a relief, it would have been a shame to subject his allies to the same treatment he'd give supercriminals. He waited a bit before following them until the three were at a safe distance, and when Abaddon finally did come out of his hiding place, he tailed them silently. Everything was eerily quiet at that, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Abaddon figured they could all use the stillness to get a drop on whoever or whatever was responsible for the malevolent energy-
NOPE. The sounds of wood being smashed apart echoed through the area as Michael decided that smashing the abattoir's door to bits was a much better alternative. Abaddon shook his head... but he guessed that kind of worked too? It certainly would have surprised anything in there... if there had been anything in there at least. Much to everyone's surprise, the building was about as empty as the others. Regardless Arachnid, Furious, and Michael all headed deeper in, Abaddon still following their progress by stealthily crawling across the walls and ceiling of the dark slaughterhouse. The dark presence was overwhelming now, so it must have been deeper inside. Abaddon thought he could actually hear a child crying though... what? Moments later Abaddon heard the loud sound of another door being smashed, this time by Furious, and that's when the chaos ensued. There actually was a child crying on an altar in the center of the next room, and the poor kid was surrounded by a group of cultists that were just about ready to sacrifice him. The League trio immediately sprung into action, but were seemingly met with some apt resistance. Abaddon could help them take care of them easily, and he would have joined the trio in their small struggle had it not been for another group of cultists entering the building to try and overwhelm his allies. Unfortunately for them though, Abaddon was just in the right place to hold them off. When the first of the new cultists tried to strike with a spell, Abaddon surprised him by dropping down on top of him to deliver a fatal bite to the neck. Blood gushed from the wound as he threw the cultist towards the others, who were already surprised enough as it was to dodge the body and avoid getting knocked down. They were quick however, levitating the fresh corpse off of themselves and lashing out at Abaddon with flying sickles of magic. Easily dodged, though some of them caught Abaddon in the sides, and they actually hurt! They seemed to have a different kind of black magic at their disposal unlike most wannabe demon summoners...
"Scythes are my game!" Abaddon hissed as he morphed his right arm into a serrated reaping tool. He lunged for the cultist closest to him, stabbing her through the neck for a swift decapitation. Another one held up his hand to send a power wave of magic at Abaddon, making him stumble and giving the cultist a chance to rush at him with an magically spawned weapon. Abaddon allowed himself to drop to miss the lunge, then swung his sickle arm at his enemy's legs. It was a gruesome tactic which left him legless, but Abaddon left it at that to let him bleed out. By this point the last few cultists were just rushing at him full force. Big mistake on their part really, since that gave Abaddon the opportunity to just impale them all with multiple tendrils coming from his body. One tendril for each, all through the stomach and out their back. He tossed them aside, their moments of defeat coming shortly before the trio took care of their own business. Abaddon tossed the bodies aside before he wordlessly began to watch the resulting carnage in the other room.
He was pleasantly surprised. There were actually DEAD cultists on the ground! DEAD! Shot in the head or with faces caved in! He knew that not all of the League members were dumb enough to just give threats a slap on the wrist! Things were going great now... until the dark presence returned. Out of nowhere an even larger group of cultists appeared before Arachnid, Furious, and Michael, all lead by a woman with scarlet robes. Now... that wasn't good for them. If Abaddon needed a time to make himself known to his allies and back them up, now was it. He flew into the room and above their heads, landing in between his allies and the cultists before spreading his sharp wings and readying his claws in warning.
"Let me guess... you need their strong and noble souls to summon a demon to do your bidding? Too bad that one's already here, but you'll soon find he's not too keen on following the orders of weak ritualists and has quite an insatiable hunger when angered..."
