[center][color=Lightsteelblue][sub][h1]Wounded[/h1][/sub][/color][/center]

Marvin sat in the soft computer chair when he heard the thud of something against the walls of his warehouse; part of him wanted to activate the warehouse’s defenses--but something else told him that would be excessive. Maybe it was just those kids again; some of those knuckleheads never learn! Marvin wanted to go check, but he couldn’t expose himself to the denizens of Marcy, even if everyone knew who the Man in the Warehouse was now. He could use his present predicament to his advantage somehow, but Marvin was unsure how as of yet. He wasn’t in fighting shape, and though his body was repairing itself at an astronomical rate, the aches and the frequent jolts of unanimous pain throughout his entire being made each step agony.

All Marvin knew now is that yet another person or being had found where he lay his head, but at this point it didn’t matter. It was time to plot. If his enemies wanted to flank him, he would let them think they had the advantage… except, he couldn’t plan for something he couldn’t see. The phone continued ringing and Marvin picked up,

“Marvin Hayes? Forensics officer Felix Martinez. NYPD. We have something you need to see. Translator at the lab said it was German.” some seconds later, a blue loading screen fizzled onto the massive monitor in front of him. When the loading was complete, it read, [color=red]Kinderfressen[/color]! With one click of his mouse, the video feed was freeze framed, cropped, and saved to the cloud storage of his personal network system. Marvin’s eyelids tipped closed and lifted open in rapid succession, he tried to muster a reply to the forensics officer but it was less than true English and more gibberish.

A gunshot. Marvin’s eyes flushed open. It never ended! He had given his all, but the shootings, the muggings, the greed, the murder, the selfishness, it never ended. Beleaguered, Marvin dragged his hapless unmasked head toward the lower third floor window and stared out at the sound as its hollow rang dissipated into the mouth of the night’s howling winds. Even if he was healthy, he was too tired. Tonight, he would sleep--someone else could handle it tonight. Little did Marvin know, someone else [i]was[/i] handling it.

October 30th, 11:00 p.m.

 Marvin had just awaken. The 70’’ television displayed the news,

[quote=BREAKING NEWS]”Jennifer Greene with Channel 52 News. Yet another child has gone missing from Brooklyn’s Marcy Housing Projects. Last night, 15 year old Teon Hollins disappeared from his home. Residents say they heard nothing suspicious in the lowrises last night. We spoke with the victim’s mother this morning. Here is what she had to say,”

Pan. A hefty black woman wearing a long flower print gown, pink rollers, and black house slippers to match stood in front of a rounded microphone and she was surrounded by family members and other dishevelled looking residents of the neighborhood. On her cocoa skin there is worry slit into the lines of a weary face. Dried tears decorate the sides of her smooth cheeks. An older man’s hand rests on her shoulder, consoling her as she fights through another wave of tears--he grips tighter the more frustrated she becomes as if to relax her.

“I-I just don’t know! I don’t know, I do--who done took my baby from me? Why they took him from me?! MONSTER!” she had nearly begun to cry again, her consoler--another black man who appeared no more than 40, sporting a bushy mustache, bald head, a white tanktop and some pajamas--tightened his grip and she composed herself

“All our babies is missin’ and nobody care! Who next? Huh? Who next! Ain’t nobody gonna nothin’? Why we gotta suffer? Y’know--it jus’--” her thoughts appeared to escape her, someone in the background filled the lull,

“I know tha’s right!” an Afro puff laced black woman erected from the back,
“Don’t make no [i]damn[/i] sense I tell’ya’at.” a grandfatherly gentlemen added. The camera was still focused on the woman of the hour, Teon’s mother and she spoke again after she had once more gathered herself,

“And, you know--where that ‘Tiger’ at, huh? He supposed to be some type’a ‘hero’ or somethin’, but far as I seen he ain’ done [i]nothin’[/i]!”

“Yeah!” someone else added from the back,
“Ain’t [i]none of em no good.[/i]” went another,

The camera swayed up to the reporter on scene, Jenny Wong, who re-directed the segment back to Jennifer at the station.[/quote]

Marvin cut the TV off. He [i]had[/i] done something, something rather idiotic in truth. He had sent every kid he could round up within a mile of the projects to Gotham City. Outlandish? Yes. Foolhardy? Yes. And evidently his plan was not as foolproof as he thought, kids were still disappearing. Marvin played his hand too early, and from the looks of the deal, he had lost. At least now he had a lead; “Kinderfressen.” German. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had--and like with everything else, Marvin would unveil its shroud.