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[right][color=fff200]La Vida: Streets[/color][/right]
[hr]

Knight gave a small smile as the car bumped along the road. They weren’t that far from the Wayward House, the one where his remaining supplies lied. The game was over in Knight’s mind. His point would be proven easily enough. The officer’s head a small crack, causing the one in the passenger seat to turn around and look at Knight. By that point, it was too late. His left hand was out of the cuffs, and Knight was bracing himself as he used both feet to kick at the door. It didn’t take long until the force caused the door’s locking mechanism to break. The car was already trying to pull over to the side. What a mistake.

The three cop cars had pulled to the side of the road, out in the dark streets of La Vida only a dozen or so blocks from the Wayward House. Guns were drawn as Knight stood outside with one arm raised, the other clearly out of its socket with a slightly mangled hand. A wicked smile was on his lips as they fired into him, holes tearing through the fabric of his clothing. The horror that came next, a look he was used to, always got to him. He had a point to prove. And so within seconds they all laid dead, killed by a one-armed psychopath.

Well, all but one was dead. A woman, early 30’s, was clutching to life as the bullet had lodged itself into her stomach. She didn’t have much longer. She wasn’t what James wanted, though. He reached for the microphone attached to the radio on her belt, pressing down on the button. [color=ed1c24]“I am the vigilante known as Knight. I’ve been curing your city of its plague, eliminating members of the gangs. You’ve placed your trust in a certain group of vigilantes… children in costumes. You have one month to reveal their identities to the press and end your support. I tried to save your city… but if you do not comply, I will kill your chief of police. No one will be safe. You have a choice to make, ladies and gentlemen. Choose wisely.[/color]”

He smiled as he fished out his weapons and gas mask, stowing them on his person as he made his way back out onto the streets.

[hr]

Knight’s room was starkly empty. The weapons on the wall were gone, his clothes too disappeared. The window remained open, the wind whistling in. There were only two signs Knight had ever lived there. The hooks imbedded into the wall, used to showcase his vast array of weaponry, remained. A note was hooked into the wall by a knife, containing Knight’s goodbye message, with a smudge of blood along the edge:

[color=ed1c24]“You knew what I was when you asked me to join. I was a shadow seeking to help those who were trampled on and abused. I continue that work in the name of justice, doing what you never could. I warned what would happen, Ashlyn, if you handed me to the authorities. Their blood lines this note, blood spilled as a consequence of your decision.

I am giving you all a chance to walk away and leave me to my methods. If you abandon La Vida and let it be purged of its sickness, you will be spared. Your half-measures are not enough to stop the gangs and end the violence. Violence must be stopped with violence, death matched with death. It is not pretty, but it is necessary.

Good luck with your efforts, you wayward souls. You better hope you don’t see me again.”[/color]