Exekiel was very much at a loss. It seemed that the city of Lost Haven has been the staging ground of some rather ridiculous things as of late. If it wasn't Metas running to and fro, then it was surprise visits from bloodthirsty so-called demons from the Pit. That was a hell of a busy night (pardon the pun) for Exekiel. Many had died in the French Quarter, and there wasn't a whole lot he could without exposing himself to some pretty prominent Metas. Between Icon, Iron Knight, and that angelic looking meta, the half-demon was just about ready to dig in and wait it out. Instead he shifted in his demonic form and harvested many of the invaders that night. He kept to the darkness and the fringes of the invading force; picking them off little by little. Honestly, it was more likely that others would assume that he was a part of the invading force than an ally of any kind. It wasn't their fault that they couldn't tell the difference between a Pit demon and an Abyssal demon.

Thankfully, the aftereffects of the invasion led to reduced crime rates at night... albeit only temporarily. By day, Exekiel was your everyday Engineer, and attended a pretty standard 9 to 5 job over at Midas Industries. It was a fairly well-paying job even though he didn't really have an immediate use for a greater portion of his income. He lived in a cheap but cozy apartment in Chinatown with rather spartan arrangements of a few pieces of furniture; the only thing of worth being his top-of-the-line computer that he pieced together and upgrades as needed. His daytime schedule was predictable for the most part. Other than work Exekiel would make himself attend some local singles functions to acquaint himself with society a bit, and at least once a week he would volunteer at the Lost Haven Home for the Elderly. His own grandparents were rather horrible people and died in a failed attempt to harness a demon from the Abyss. Despite that he always wondered what it would be like to have an older relative around who had lifetime of experience they could share. He tried to fill that aching void of family-ties by attending to the elderly and in-firmed of others. By allowing himself to be seen and considered a normal (if barely remarkable) functioning member of human society, the half-demon would remain hidden in plain sight.

At night, Exekiel would not sleep... just as Lost Haven does not sleep at night. The darker elements of crime rise up at this time, and he rises with them. Of course he doesn't abet and aide them... rather he hunts them and punishes them for invading his territory. As Predator, the half-demon terrorizes the night but he does so carefully and with great deliberation. At first, in his naivety, Predator took out whatever thug and gangster he could rend with his talons. He learned quickly that underlings were replaceable and that killing them only made their bosses paranoid and harder to track. As a result, he learned to listen, to stalk his prey slowly, and to savor the hunt. There was no satisfaction in a sloppy or unorganized kill. Exekiel always believed he was in harmony with his demonic self but there were times he felt that maybe he was slipping a little too deep into the Predator role. He killed off a few small time crews and cleared out some territory for himself. Occasionally, Predator would pin the crime on a rival gang so as to avoid suspicion. Eventually, he came across a few Meta crooks and found himself at odds with strange powers that temporarily threw him off the hunt. However, he was not easily put off by a few obstacles. He made special examples out of those who abused their powers to hurt and hinder the common people. He also found that killing them gave him a rather large boost in his power and allowed for quicker elevations to the next evolutionary stage.

All those years of careful hunting and discovery pre-dated the Meta explosion of heroes and villains that swarmed onto the scene of Lost Haven. It threw off Predator's hunt for a couple weeks, but soon he adapted once more to the helter skelter of new players on the field. The objective was the same even if the playing field was warped. Predator found himself stalking and spying for longer hours as he figured out the major power players that had changed the game up. It was only recently though that he found a couple names popping more and more often in the underworld.

[color=red]"The Cowl. Shroud. The Cancer."[/color] rumbled Predator in his deep other-worldly growl as he stalked outside a particular warehouse on the wharf.

The people behind these names yielded no direct search results. It took several weeks of careful spying and stalking to obtain the information he wanted. Even then, it was greatly insufficient to serve his needs. Too many unknown variables surrounded these names. That was why he was going to slowly draw them out. Predator would start near the bottom of the chain. Clandestine and low key jobs that were easily disrupted if he picked off the right people. Tonight happened to be a night where one of those scheduled routines were to happen. The Cowl had his fingers in everything related to crime in Lost Haven and Predator wanted to see what it took to start pricking those digits. The massive creature slunk gracefully through the darkness and the intermittent shadows cast by powerful lights onto boxes and other obstructions. It was fairly easy to get inside the warehouse and he ignored any grunt that wasn't directly in his way. His target was in the offices near the rear of the building. Of course this part was more heavily guarded but guns meant nothing to the half-demon... not anymore. Despite that invulnerability, Predator did not want to alert his prey so he took to killing them softly. Not much of a sound was made as he blew out the lights above them; casting them into darkness. He worked quick and methodically. He left the bodies there. No one would see them in the darkness.

The blown out lights would eventually attract attention so Predator soundlessly vaulted up the stairs and sidled up to the office door. He listened in carefully for sounds and could hear the prey speaking oh so smoothly to whoever was on the phone.

"Listen. Let The Cowl know that even with the whole fiasco with the demons and the Meta flunkies, we've been on schedule without fail. Today's shipment will go without a hitch. No one in this town gives as s*** about the shipping ports and with all the hub bub surrounding these Metas we've pretty much got no one snooping around." soothed the man to his recipient with an almost greasy air like that of a loan shark.

Predator waited patiently as the man finished his call and then burst into the room with speed and power far greater than a normal human. There was no time for screaming. Massive scaled hands wrapped tightly around the middle-aged man's neck and applied the proper amount of strength to strangle him but not break his neck. The man's eyes popped out of his eyes in sheer terror as he looked upon a creature from the Abyss in rarely viewed majesty. Saliva dripped down jaws filled with rows of razor sharp teeth and burning red eyes glared at the prey beneath him. The prey's name was Jim Wilson. He was a criminal with a rap sheet as long as Predator's arm but the Shroud Syndicate's influence was strong indeed. Wilson served a very key role in the import and export of very very illegal things. He handled the contacts, the shipping manifestos, the bribery, and the thugs needed to keep the operation running smoothly. Tonight he would die in a rather cruel manner as he was forced to look upon his killer's horrific visage while his life slipped away. For Predator this method was least used but often the most prolific to him personally. To strangle someone to death was a very purposeful act. To hold your hands at another persons throat as they thrashed about for life and deny them that breath of salvation truly could not be mistaken as an accident.

[color=red]"Hellfire and suffering awaits you my prey. I thank you for your contribution to my evolution."[/color] snarled the half-demon with a mocking sneer.

Jim Wilson died that night of forced asphyxiation and his office was stripped clean of both evidence of the killer and information on the illegal operation. The first prod at the massive underworld organization was made. Predator would now wait and observe.