Streets Run Red

Knockout Gym, Hub City. 17:00

Traci Thirteen threw her arms together over her head as Ravager swooped down from above. Her hands emitted a purple energy as her wrists burned gold, channeling enough force to absorb her foe’s momentum and hold him floating in the air, his searing blade inches from her face. She smirked. The team had been training long and hard with Deathstroke, the infamous assassin and their teammate’s father, and now was the time to test what they had learned.

But while Traci celebrated catching him off guard, Grant used the moment to his advantage. Though the young street witch held his chest and arms rigidly in place, Grant swung his weight in the air and kicked out, hitting her square in the chest.

Her concentration broken, Traci’s spell waned and Grant went tumbling, knocked back by his kick. Traci stumbled but Grant landed comfortably on his feet, skidding to a halt. He’d been training with his father Slade for as long as he could remember, so there was no way he was gonna lose to any of Slade’s week one recruits. He charged, strafing left and right, but Traci pulled herself back up faster than he expected. She flashed her wrists with glowing runes once more and began making sweeping, cutting motions with her hands through the air, conjuring indigo slits of force to knock Grant out of the air. But Grant WIlson was fast, especially so thanks to the HIVE augmentations he had undergone to replicate the process that had once transformed his father.

Traci hastened herself. Grant was getting closer, gaining momentum as he charged at her. She watched as he threw his weight forward, leaping in with a slash, and she panicked. Throwing her hands together, she activated a duplication spell with a bright flash, transporting herself into a lineup of indistinguishable spectral duplicates of herself. And it paid off, as Grant helplessly tumbled forward, his blade and body alike passing through the flickering false Traci.

Looking to finish things, she spun on her heel, thrusting out her palm in an attempt to deliver a concentrated blast of force to the middle of Grant’s exposed back, but as she turned to face him, Traci realised the fight was already over. The Ravager had found his foot, and his blade was already held out a hair’s length from her face.

“Daaaaaaaaaaamn!” cried Eddie, watching from the sides, as he burst out into a round of applause. “You totally nearly had him, Trace!”

Grant bowed out of his battle stance and sheathed his blade before detaching the faceplate of his silver helmet. He turned and held out his hand to his sorry combatant. Traci shook it, admitting defeat.

Eddie Bloomberg bounded up to the two fighters, both having worked out a hell of a sweat. They stood in relative darkness in an old, abandoned boxing gym in the middle of Hub City. They had to keep the lights off, in fear of alerting folks that there were squatters inside, not that Eddie was even certain that the electronics in the place even worked anymore. “You’re getting really good!” Eddie grinned at Traci.

“Th… Thanks…” she panted.

“No, seriously, Traci,” Grant smiled softly, sweat caking his skin. “Your hard work’s paying off. How do you feel?”

“Exhausted,” she heaved. “Using my magic that much… really takes it out of me. But I think it’s getting easier. I can go longer than I could before.”

“Good.”

Eddie swatted Grant on the arm of his silver and black armour. “When’s Slade dropping by again? I’m totally ready for more lessons.”

Grant moved off to the side of the room, reaching for his towel, removing the back part of his helmet and beginning to dry himself off. “If there’s one thing I know about my dad, it’s that he tends to come and go unannounced. He’ll be back when he’s not busy.”

“Busy killing people…” Eddie mumbled to himself. He shook his head. He preferred not to think about it. “Did he at least give you your allowance?”

Grant stopped. As Traci snickered, heading for her water bottle, Grant turned back to face Eddie. “What?”

“Well I don’t have any money, and Jennie thought it’d be tight to go find someplace in the city to eat tonight. Celebrate how far we’ve come, y’know?”

“We took down some minor ghouls and a wendigo,” Grant replied, not impressed.

“Exactly!” Eddie exclaimed.

“Where is Jennifer anyway?” Grant asked, beginning to remove segments of his Ravager armour, revealing his grey sweats underneath.

“She said she was checking in with the families the ghouls were haunting,” Traci replied.

Grant slid his detached pauldrons free. “Wouldn’t they be freaked out… y’know, by the… green skin?”

“She went as ‘Jade’ in the whole white-and-black outfit. So she’s basically a superhero to them.”

“Look, did Slade give you your lunch money or not?” Eddie persisted.

Beat.

Grant sighed. “He gave me a bit of cash to tie us over,” he rolled his eyes, embarrassed. “I suppose we could see if there’s a nice backroom restaurant that doesn’t mind… red and green people dining.”

“Hey!” Eddie spat in the jet, “That’s racist!”

⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣

Hub City. 20:00

A few hours later and the four touring monster hunters walked back along the streets of Hub City toting full bellies, filled to bursting with assorted dishes from a small family-owned Chinese restaurant. It was a well deserved change of pace for the young hunters, who had been on the backfoot ever since the day they were brought together.

Eddie Bloomberg was only a kid, who had never even left home before the day he made that stupid deal with a demon, and now he was moving from city to city constantly, hardly ever resting as he and his new friends fought a long list of what he once thought were merely mythical beasts. It all scared the Kid Devil to death… and for that he couldn’t be more excited.

He smiled as he led his well sated companions through the streets, back to their squat at the Knockout Gym. Traci was a hard worker, but she was new to this game like Eddie, so they got on well. Jennie had a big heart, though she kept to herself a lot. And Grant? He was rude, and often cold, but Eddie knew he had a soft spot for him really. When Eddie first saw the fire red, demonic form he’d transformed into following the deal, he thought no-one would ever trust him again… but now, Eddie thought to himself, maybe he could tell them the truth about the deal he’d made.

But before Eddie could open up, as they meandered through the city, the four were deafened by the thunderous boom of a single gunshot.

As his eyes went wide, Eddie’s first instinct was to flatten himself against the nearest wall, ducking into the shade of the burgeoning night. And while Traci crouched and began to scurry, Grant and Jennie - the former HIVE operatives - were much more proactive. As Jennie looked each way to identify the source of the sound, Grant dug his hand into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and drew a single silver handgun.

“You brought a gun to a restaurant!?” Eddie exclaimed in a hushed voice.

Grant whipped around suddenly, making daggers at Eddie with his eyes. Though before Eddie got throttled, Jennie grabbed Grant by the arm and gestured towards the alleyway across the road.

Traci readied defensive magic - or what she could in her fatigue - and Jennie burned her hands with an emerald glow as the four hunters tiptoed into the alley. Torn trash bags were strewn across the floor, with spoiled food pouring out of each, giving the small gitty a putrid stench. As they approached, they almost missed the motionless figure at the foot of the alley. A blood-drenched body, a man shot through the head.

Eddie vomited onto the nearest pile of rotten trash reflexively, and while Grant searched the body of who he quickly surmised was some sort of businessman, Jennie searched above for the culprit. And it only took a second to find the scarlet shadow that clung to the firescape.

The tail of her blood red coat cut through the air as the pale, dark haired assailant turned and dove onto the roof above.

“Up there!” Jennie cried, her eyes glowing the same emerald green as her hand bolts surged in preparation.

“I’ve got this!” Eddie growled. A man had been murdered, and he’d bring the one responsible to justice. He dug his heels into the trash-smattered asphalt floor as he centered his weight, bowing his legs slightly. Then, commanding his superior strength, Eddie sprung upwards, hurtling himself into the air with a mighty jump. However, after soaring four feet off of the air towards the fleeing killer, he felt a cold grip tightened around his ankle.

That was when Grant tore the Kid Devil from the air, dragging him back down from the ground with a respectable strength of his own. Though Eddie hit the dirt with a thud, it wasn’t his backside that hurt as he leapt back to his feet, launching towards Grant.

“What the hell!?” he roared far too loudly. “I could take her!”

“I’m sure you could,” Grant spat. “But it isn’t your job. We hunt monsters, not murderers.”

“What’s the difference!?” He saw how deftly the killer had leapt away. He highly doubted he could catch her now. “We save people, and we definitely didn’t save him.” Eddie looked to the dead man by their feet. By getting here too late, he’d failed him.

“We do what others can’t,” Grant explained, not rising to Eddie’s rage. “Someone else will catch the killer. Like Superman, or The Flash.”

“We’re supposed to be heroes.”

Beat.

Eddie looked between the faces of his friends, from Grant, to Jennie, to Traci. The looks on their faces made it clear to him the mistake he had made. “Aren’t we?”

Grant took a deep breath. He almost felt sorry for the wide-eyed, idealist Eddie. He tried his best to look him in the eye as he spoke. “What we do… it’s a thankless job. We save people from the shit they aren’t supposed to know exists. We work best when people don’t know we’re working.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t be heroes.”

Jennie shook her head, smiling modestly. “We’re not heroes, or villains. We hunt, we kill. We’re not… like them.”

⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣

Sundollar Café, Hub City. 08:30

The next morning, Jennie dragged herself out of bed and down to the nearest coffee shop. The group hadn’t travelled with many supplies, but had managed to accumulate a small pocketful of wealth from grateful civilians affected by the monsters they had battled, and so each morning Jennie would make a tradition of finding a small shop and getting herself a mocha and a panini for breakfast.

So, she walked into the chain store, Sundollar, with a grey hood pulled tight up over her head. She had caked on several layers of pale foundation in an attempt to hide her limey complexion, and while she struggled to mask the strong emerald pigment, keeping her face in the shade of her hood did good to draw attention away from her abnormal appearance.

She tapped nervously at her wristwatch with gloved fingers as she waited in the queue, as if she had somewhere to be. When her turn to be served came, Jennie squirmed beneath her hood. She still hadn’t gotten used to being out in public, under public scrutiny.

Back at HIVE, she grew up in a family, with adoptive parents and other HIVE kids. She’d only ever leave HIVE-owned property for missions, and whenever she needed anything from the greater world, it was fetched for her. But now, with distance, Jennie was beginning to see her ‘parents’ more as handlers. Distance, providing only the bare minimum. Keeping her indoctrinated. Keeping her loyal. And she was left with little to no social skills because of it.

And as the barista at the counter dismissively asked for her order, Jennie failed to realise how seldom people cared about her and the way she acted. She channeled as much energy as she could on acting ‘normal’, keeping her green face out of view, but not so much that she looked to be hiding, and speaking in a tone that showed confidence, but didn’t sound performative.

“One mocha. Medium,” she began. “And a ham panini. And cheese.”

Shit. She hoped he didn’t notice her messing up her order.

After paying without a hitch, Jennie moved along and stood by the far end of the counter while they prepared her drink and toasted her sandwich. As she waited, she looked around the rest of the coffee shop and listened in all she could. By the time she’d taken a seat with her piping hot coffee and toasted sandwich, Jennie had quickly surmised something about the people of Hub City. Many sat in silence, rattled by the recent happenings: the actions of a familiar assailant.

Listening to the gossip, she learned that the corpse they had found in the alley the night before was only the latest victim in a series of murders targeting associates of the criminal gang the Madmen. So the man they found was a criminal?

The people of the coffee shop showed little sympathy for the deaths of gang members who seemed to spend year after year terrorising Hub City, yet they all lived in fear. The murders showed no sign of slowing, with many fearing the chaos this killer vigilante would bring to their streets.

Whether she and her team were heroes or not, Jennie knew they had to do something.

⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣

Knockout Gym, Hub City. 10:00

Starting slowly and working up to a more rigorous pace, Grant walked Eddie through several strikes and attacks. Shirtless, and with sweat pouring off his scarlet skin, Eddie threw punch after punch at his friend, who blocked them with the silver plating of his gauntlets. It took a lot for Grant to steady himself on his feet, as each hit from Eddie crashed against him with inordinate strength to the kid’s size. Eddie Bloomberg wasn’t taller than 5’8”, and was as scrawny as they came, but that didn’t stop him from commanding unholy might.

Through their training, the group had slowly surmised the extents and limitations to Eddie’s powers. He possessed enhanced strength and durability, could breath fire within a limited charge, and could superheat his crimson hide to unfathomable temperatures to melt the toughest of steels upon touch. Though, breaking out of simple strikes, Eddie would learn the limit of his self-named ‘burning effect’ as Grant’s prometheum shield held tight against the more intense temperatures Eddie could command. And luckily for them all, it would appear Eddie’s burning effect was localised to himself and what he contacted, sparing the whole immediate radius from being vaporised instantly, along with everyone in it.

After a short knock, Jennie pushed through the far door heaving plastic bags filled with some basic groceries. Eddie turned and smiled at her as he moved away from Grant, who’s arms ached from sustaining so many of Eddie’s attacks. But it had to be him, Eddie would have broken anyone else’s arms in one.

“How was breakfast?” Eddie grinned.

Jennie moved along, setting her bags down and pulling a wet wipe from a rucksack set in the stands of the boxing gym. She spoke as she smeared the pink foundation off of her dour face. “That man we found dead last night? He’s the talk of the town.”

Eddie’s smile dropped. “Oh?”

“The woman who did it’s been shooting up gangsters in the city for weeks, every night someone else washes up dead from this Madmen gang.”

“He was a bad guy?” Eddie replied, a grim look on his face.

Just then, across the room, Grant’s cell phone blared. Tossing his shield aside and tearing off his detached gauntlets, he dashed across the gym in his vest and sweatpants and scooped the disposable flip phone up off the seat of the bleachers. Standing high on the raked seating, he shot Jennie a knowing glance as he pressed answer. It was his father.

“Dad.”

“Son.”

“Do you have an update?”

“I’m still out on a job, but I have some information,” Slade spoke, directly to the point, no warmth in his voice. “Are you still in Hub City?”

“We are. Took down the ghoul, now just hunkering down to brush up on some moves.”

“That’s nice. There’s something I need you to investigate before you leave.”

“A monster?”

“Several.”

Grant had no reply.

“The Madmen, a mercenary gang operating out of Hub are being targeted by an unknown assassin.”

“What do you mean ‘unknown’?”

“I mean even I haven’t heard of him before.”

“Her,” Grant corrected Slade.

“I’m sorry?” Slade replied. “You made contact with the assassin already?”

“We… found one of her bodies. She’s fast and evasive but hardly subtle.”

“And you let her get away?” Slade shot back, an intensity growing.

Eddie looked to Grant, and Grant looked back. “She was fast and… it didn’t seem like our kind of business. Some girl shooting up businessmen.”

“Yes, well, among these businessmen are a good few sensitive individuals. The Madmen are majority non-powered henchmen for hire, but among her bodycount are several metahumans. Including a man with impenetrable skin.”

“So what? I’ve seen you take down the Justice League a half dozen times.”

“She cut down a man with diamond-hard skin using a handgun, Grant,” Slade growled. “I need to know how, and you’re going to find out for me.”

“With all due respect… this kind of stuff… really isn’t what we’re trained for.”

“I trained you, Grant,” Slade replied, unflinching. “You were trained to do as I tell you.”

Grant nodded. “Yessir.”

⬣ ⬣ ⬡ ⬣ ⬣

Hub City. 21:30

The Hub City Police Department was rocked when a man covered in blood, with wild eyes burst through their front door demanding to speak with someone. Put in front of the chief, the man spilled all about how he was an accountant for the Madmen and how, hours before, a woman in a red duster and a mask had shoved a gun in his face and demanded to know where his employers were based.

He begged to be put into witness protection to hide from the killer, relinquishing all the information he could on the Madmen and their operations. And so, as they listened in from across the street using state-of-the-art surveillance equipment, Grant, Jennie, Traci and Eddie learned all they needed to pursue Slade’s murderous inquiry.

The squealing snitch led the four of them towards the Hub City waterfront, to the door of the Seaview Hotel. But as they exited the elevator to the twelfth floor it was immediately clear that they were too slow.

The lights were all blown out along the narrow corridor, but the amber rays that poured out of the elevator behind them were enough for them all to see the bloodbath they had happened upon.

Bodies were strewn across the carpeted hall, their brains and guts decorating the off-white walls. There was no end to it, dead men sprawled on the ground as far as they could see. Eddie tried his best to steel himself to the horror as Traci fought the urge to look away, while Grant and Jennie just stared forward wishing they had gotten there sooner.

Eddie moved to approach the nearest corpse, but Grant stopped him, pulling him back.

“Stay alert,” he spoke hushed, “She could still be here.”

Traci jolted to the side, hypersensitive as another shot rang out, an explosion resounding through the many walls. Perhaps they weren’t as late as they thought. Grant sheathed the blade he had ready and instead pulled up the rifle he kept slung over his shoulder. He tapped the side of his helmet and activated its amber lenses, plunging his sight into night vision before leading his allies forward, moving at a brisk pace. Jennie readied her hands, though waited to fire up her emerald beams, not wanting to draw any attention. And while Traci nervously recited “Manibus vincula capto” and other incantations she may have been about to prove useful, Eddie flexed and folded his hands, not sure if he was ready to use his strength to hurt a person.

Then, before yet another shot could fire, Grant kicked down the door to the room they had been pointed towards, instantly commanding the attention of the murderous assailant with a bang. Grant, Jennie, Traci and Eddie pushed into the hotel room. Jennie conjured roaring green plasma and Traci threw up a violet shield around her forearm, protecting herself and Eddie.

They entered a spacious penthouse to find the red-clad killer standing over a single remaining target, brandishing two large ebony handguns unlike anything even Grant could recognise.

The surviving gang member cowered on the floor and leapt at the crash of the door. But the killer turned towards the interlopers calmly, keeping one pistol trained on her quarry, and turning the other towards the door. That was the first time they got a good look at her.

The woman stood in a slick red coat over a white shirt, with a similarly red domino mask covering her eyes. She was pale, had raven black hair, and didn’t look much older than twenty, but an intensity far beyond her years burned in the gaze she shot towards that group that interrupted her mission,

“Put the guns down,” spoke Grant plainly, his rifle still pointed, not even hesitating despite being firmly in her crosshairs also. “You’re outnumbered.”

She smirked. “That’s cute.” And then, completely disregarding the rifle pointed at her, she went to turn back to her prey.

But Eddie wasn’t having this. “Hey!” he called out, pushing out ahead of the rest of his team and taking several steps forward. “We mean it. Stop right now!”

She winced, baffled by the bravery of the young red devil, while seemingly completely unfazed by his scarlet skin. “And… who are you?”

“We’re…” Eddie began with moxie, before quickly realising they hadn’t yet decided on a team name.

“We’re here to put you down,” Jennie finished, taking a step forward herself, her closed fists shimmering, prompting Eddie to almost do a double take. Were they here to kill her?

Grant kept deathly still, aiming down the sights of his rifle, ready to pull the trigger the second the girl’s finger as much as grazed her own triggers. But then, in his focus, Grant realised that her firearms didn’t even have triggers. Then how had she cut down so many men?

“Go home, heroes,” the woman spat with disdain. “This isn’t your fight.”

“No,” Eddie shot back, letting go of any restraint. It was untruthful to say he was fearless, but, as he strode towards the gun-wielding woman and positioned himself between her and the witless gangster she towered over, his fears didn’t matter. “We’re not heroes. But that doesn’t mean we’ll just let you kill an innocent man.”

“Innocent?” The woman scoffed. “All of these men were career criminals. Extortionists, murderers, and worse.”

Eddie took a deep breath, caught off guard by the recognition of his mistake, before bolstering himself. “And how are you any different?”

As the Kid Devil stood in front of her, she had no clear shot at the whimpering mobster, but the killer kept her gun pointed forward, the other still at Grant, Jennie and Traci. “I don’t pass judgement. I don’t take the law into my own hands. I just do as the guns will. As vengeance wills.”

“Yeah, well I’m pretty bulletproof, so give me a try,” Eddie smirked.

“Don’t,” Grant spoke out. “She’s already taken down creeps stronger than you. Those guns are magical.”

She nodded slowly. “Right. I was hoping to not leave too much of a reputation, but the boy’s right. I point these things at someone who deserves it, and they go off, they’re dead no matter what. And let me tell you, the man you’re protecting deserves it. I can feel it.”

“I won’t let you kill him,” Eddie protested. “He doesn’t have to die.”

“Neither do you,” she replied. “You might look like a hellspawn, but I can feel that you’re a good kid. But if this guy deserves it - and he does - the guns aren’t going to care that you’re stood in the way.”

“I…”

“Is your life really worth it for this scumbag?” she accused. “Farley Fleeter founded the Madmen. Made them an institution. He profits off of the drug trade operating in Hub City, the several regular bank heists, and not to mention the child sex trafficking rings run by the Madmen’s associates. Is he worth laying your life down for?”

“I… I…” Eddie was lost for words. He wanted to protect people, but… did this man really deserve it? And more importantly, was it worth dying to save him? Eddie had made a deal, and he intended to make good on it. He had a responsibility, and he knew he could do good. But he couldn’t do that from a grave.

And so, overcome with a viciousness awareness of his mortality, and with his friends helpless to intervene, Eddie stood aside.

The woman before him took a deep breath. “I’ll make it quick.” With a shot, Farley Fleeter was dead. And though she now had no bargaining chip, and though she lowered her weapons, Grant didn’t fire. It was as if a wave of energy washed over the lot of them, a wave of mental and emotional exhaustion. For it was in that moment that Grant, along with each of his teammates, was forced to conclude that she was no different than them. A monster hunter.

Turning her back on them, the woman grimaced. “I’ve stuck around here for far too long.”

Then she moved towards the open window, ready to exit. But Grant called out. “Wait.”

She turned, her head hung low. “What?”

“Who are you?”

She sighed. “I’m the Crimson Avenger. I’m--”

A bullet rocketed through the window frame, punching through her shoulder. Already halfway through the wooden frame, she couldn’t help herself from tumbling forward and out, dropping from the twelfth storey window.

In their shock, the team rushed to the window, watching the self identified Crimson Avenger as she struck the flat roof a dozen feet below with a slap. Without hesitation, Grant vaulted the window frame in one, cutting through the rain before safely deftly on the paved roof with a roll. He jumped to the side of the injured girl, putting his arms around her to lift her up from the ground, but she shook herself free, insisting on standing by herself. Then as Eddie, Traci and Jennie descended with more regard to their safety than Grant had shown, they joined them just in time to witness the arrival of the new assailant.

He flew in on what looked like a zipline of thin, red plasma burning in the pouring rain against the black sky. As he approached the roof, the wire vanished, and he dropped to the ground on his feet. He was dressed from head-to-toe in sleek, black body armour, with a torn red cape wrapped around his neck. His hair and most of the features of his face vanished beneath his ragged hood, but his glowing red eyes were clear to see. In his hands, all he held was a red leather-bound book.

“Ruby,” the Crimson Avenger grumbled. “You caught up.”

The man, presumably Ruby, smiled, his thin dark lips appearing out from the shadow that eclipsed his face. “I did.” He swept his offhand from the open pages of the book and painted a volley of spectral red bullets into the air, firing them at her with a gesture. But she threw herself to the side, expertly dodging the magical gunfire with inhumane dexterity. However, the monster hunters who had suddenly decided to endear themselves to her weren’t nearly as fast. It was only Traci’s indigo force field that spared them the brunt of Ruby’s attack.

Yet Ruby seemed unconcerned with them, as he dashed to keep up with his quarry. The Crimson Avenger leapt and manoeuvred with expert grace, firing off her magical handguns and sending bloody blurs through the air. Though none would find their mark thanks to the many tiny shields Ruby was able to paint from his tome, in conjunction with his equally impressive agility.

Eddie and friends were simply left to watch the red-clad pair of assassins zip and weave across the rooftop, circling them while also both seemingly oblivious to them. But Eddie wouldn’t have that, picking a moment where the tome-wielding Ruby had his back to him and then pouncing.

Eddie launched his full weight against Ruby, knocking him clean off his feet and giving the Crimson Avenger a big enough opening. But then, as her guns sounded, Ruby wasn’t shot dead, but the force of two rounds of her mystical weapons knocked his prized book cleanly from his hands.

Disarmed, Ruby bounced up from the ground and turned to Eddie. He may have been without his signature weapon, but he wasn’t helpless. Ruby launched into a rapid flurry of close-quarter blows. And while none of the swings and punches did much to hurt Eddie through his hardened skin, the power and speed behind each blow kept Eddie solidly on the backfoot, overwhelmed and unable to form a response. That was when a jade blast collided with Ruby’s side. His last punch sent Eddie veering back, clear of him as he winced and pulled at his scorched torso. But he didn’t have long before the Crimson Avenger was back in close.

The pair traded swift strikes, each blocking almost everything the other could throw at them. But Ruby had to break the chain when Grant came in swinging his sword. He ducked, sending Grant swiping clean over his head, knocking into the Crimson Avenger, who recoiled back. Though Ruby wouldn’t scurry away, not when Traci had a new spell to try out.

Speaking an incantation under her breath, Traci swung her wrists and manifested a translucent pair of manacles wrapping tight around Ruby’s ankles, sending him toppling into the soggy surface of the roof. With another spell, his wrists and mouth were bound shut also.

Traci, Eddie, Grant and Jennie, along with their newest reluctant ally, all took a moment to catch their breaths, the sky still howling it down with rain. Slowly, they all assembled around the helpless Ruby.

“Who is he?” Jennie asked.

The Crimson Avenger crouched down. “He’s pest control, for pests like me.”

“No but like, who is he?” Traci continued, not caring much for her poetry.

The woman sighed as her familiar attacker squirmed. “He has been hunting me for months. That’s why I try not to stay in one place too long.”

“Why’s he hunting you?” Grant interjected.

“Why does anyone hunt anything?” she paused. “I pissed off some really bad people.”

“So you’re going to kill him?” Eddie asked.

She smiled. “I don’t know.”

The Crimson Avenger then raised her right pistol and pressed it against Ruby’s head. Though he flinched for a second, he soon resigned himself to his fate, only shooting his enemy the best death glare he could muster. But she then pulled the gun away.

“I guess not,” she continued. “The guns don’t want him dead. But it doesn’t matter, they’d only send someone else to replace him anyway.” She stood up and began to walk away.

“What does that mean?” Grant exclaimed, tired. “The guns don’t want him dead?”

She stopped, sighed and turned, equally on the end of her rope herself. “I told you. I’m executioner, but I’m not judge and jury. The spirit of the guns decides who lives and who dies.”

“So…” Eddie began, “You made a deal?”

“If it was a deal, I got sold short.”

“Who’s after you?”

“God, what is this? Twenty Questions!?”

“We can help!” Grant interject, cutting through the barrage of queries. “You can come with us.”

One by one, each of the rest of the team turned their heads at Grant. Was he really inviting their latest target to tag along? But Grant was insistent, especially if it was the only way to learn more about her and her weapons, like his father had demanded.

“Why would I do that?”

“We travel from place to place. Hunting monsters,” Grant explained. “Seems like you’re pretty good at that. And with us, you’re much less likely to get caught out by anything Ruby’s bosses throw at you.”

A quiet fell over the monster hunters on the roof among the lashings of falling rain. She looked to the ground, and to each of the members of the team propositioning her. The green girl seemed fierce but not all there. The witch looked like she wasn’t sure what she wanted to be. And the kid with the horns looked like a cloud cuckoolander flying by the seat of his pants. Was she really safer with them?

But the other one was different. She could see that from his actions and from the look on his face as he removed his silver faceplate. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he was fiercely determined to accomplish it. That she could respect. That she could trust.

“What’s your price?”

“Just your name,” Grant told her.

The Crimson Avenger took a deep breath as she slid her twin handguns into their holsters. She reached out her hand to take his. “Alice.”