Light. Blinding, painful light. Solomon Grundy sat up and tore the thin body bag away from him like a veil. He saw they hadn't moved him yet, and his other two victims were neatly tucked into body bags on either side of him. The scene of his battle earlier had been carefully cordoned off, with little pieces of numbered plastic around areas of interest. The ray gun was sectioned off with string, as was the holes in the wall and the ground. He felt...something hanging off the side of his head that wasn't there before. He reached up and felt a leathery flap. They had tried to cut his mask off. If his lips hadn't shriveled away long ago, he would have smiled. He imagined that it was the thought that counted.

His battle had been enjoyable. He wasn't expecting to fight a dragon and was pleasantly surprised when the young girl changed into one. He had become so bored with killing regular humans that he relished the challenge that she presented. The parents were interesting, but hadn't quite been the challenge that he had been looking for. But this girl would do nicely. Maybe her pet freak would even like to play along. But for now, the pain was back, worse than he could ever remember it being. Perhaps it was a sign of how close to death he had come. He wasn't even sure he had the energy to hunt, but thankfully someone had prepared a to-go order for him.

“Freeze!” someone shouted from behind him. Grundy turned to face a police officer, his wavering gun trained on Grundy.

“You're lucky that I'm in a charitable mood,” Grundy said as he turned back and picked up both body bags, grasping one under each arm. “I think I'll let you live.”

He began to walk away and was crouched down to jump off when he heard a distinct “pop, pop” and felt like he had been punched. He dropped the corpses and turned to the officer, whose eyes had expanded to white orbs of pure fear.

“On second thought, I haven't eaten all day. I probably earned an extra snack."