[b][center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bA1PAkKD3Q4]Ready or Not: 
Pt. V[/url][/center]
[/b]


[b]Industrial Pak
12:50 AM[/b]


I ran barefoot across the factory rooftop, gravel biting into the soles of my feet. With my running start I hurled myself into the air over a gap between buildings. I hit the roof of the adjacent building hard and landed with a hard thump. Recovering from my fall, I stayed low to the ground and hugged the shadows. Even in the dark I could feel his eyes upon me. It had been years since he had taught me the hunt, and I had learned well. But laying in the dark, with the a crushing sense of foreboding creeping in, I knew who the real master was. I took a deep breath in an attempt to clear my mind. Kraven was the better hunter. On that fact there was never any doubt. But he didn't know this city like I do. He's the master of the jungle, but the urban jungle is a different story.

Gathering myself, I began to creep across the rooftop. I prepared for an ambush after the crunch of gravel that accompanied each footfall. I made my way to the fire escape and climbed down towards the street. As I started down I heard a sound. A new noise amidst all the sirens, hoking horns, and sounds of industry. A gentle sound. Like rope tearing through the air.

Letting go of the fire escape I fell back towards the ground as a bola struck the ladder and wrapped around the rungs. Falling towards the ground, I straightened my body and dove from two stories up into a trash dumpster. I may have hit trash but it was all glass bottles and plastic trays. Cut, bleeding, and in pain, I climbed out the trash and hurried into the shadows.

"That was my warm-up," Kraven's voice echoed through the alley I was seeking refuge in. Although his voice was close, there was no sign of the man. "So far, so easy. You are predictable, richboy. What will you do, now?"

The courthouse clock four blocks over chimed one in the morning. That's when inspiration hit me like a bolt of lighting. Standing I darted from the shadows and ran down the alley. Kraven chuckled and the sounds of his laughter followed me out the alley. Leaving the alley, I ran across the street to another building's side. Once there I jumped on the building's fire escape and climbed up to the rooftop. A moment later I was running as fast as I could and leaping across the gaps between buildings.

Footsteps crunched behind me, distant at first they were rapidly approaching.

"I have tracked down cheetahs, gazelles," Kraven yelled. "Do you think you can outrun me?!"

"No," I hollered back. I could feel the gentle vibrations getting stronger as I approached the edge of the rooftop. "But I know the 1:05 can outrun you!"

Jumping from the roof I landed on the last car of a passing subway train as it tore past the building. Struggling to find a foothold, I managed to stand up and look back at Kraven as the train carried me off into the distance.


[hr]


[b]The Bowery
1:35 AM
[/b]


I jumped off the subway while it was stopped at the station and melted into the shadows. The stunt with the train had bought me some time, but I needed to go on the offensive. A few blocks away I came across a closed hardware store. The doors and windows were barred, but it wasn't entirely impregnable. I kept a running total and I went in and took the items I needed. I made a note to send the money to the store the next morning.

If I lived to see the morning.


[hr]
​


[b]2:45 AM[/b]


Kraven could tell Wayne was nearby. He could smell him. Even through the repugnant stenches of this city, Bruce Wayne had a unique scent. He smelled like silk suits and money, like all people of wealth. Despite the year he spent at Kraven's side, Wayne had showed his true colors at the end. He was not a hunter, just a rich boy playing hunter.

Kraven jumped from a rooftop and landed in an alleyway. Bruce's scent was close now. Creeping, Kraven approached a trashcan. The smell was coming from the can. Looking inside, Kraven saw a pile of dark clothing and mask. On the shirt was the symbol of the Batman.

"Ha!" He scoffed aloud. "This is how richboy beats me? He gets naked and tries to hide his scent? It is a valiant effort, but it will fail!"

To show his rage Kraven kicked over the trashcan. A wire attached to the can's underside snapped. The spring loaded trap underneath the trashcan sprung, shooting a half dozen nails out at Kraven. While most of the nails missed, one lodged into his left shoulder, another nail struck his right forearm with a glancing blow.

"Ah," he grunted, holding his shoulder. "Clever, richboy... very clever. You fooled me. You will not do it again!"

Kraven yanked the nail from his shoulder. Holding it up, he noticed there was a balm slathered on the tip, mingling with his blood. "What..." His knees buckled as an intense burning sensation hit him. His shoulder irradiated in white hot pain. Kraven ground his teeth in pain and roared out into the night.

"DEAD! YOU ARE DEAD!"

Fighting his pain, Kraven saw a fire escape and jumped at the ladder. He grabbed a rung and fell back to the ground. Holding his hands up, he saw the grease covering his palms. The hunter yelled out in frustration again.

From a distance, a figure in work boots, jeans, and a hooded poncho watched Kraven from the shadows. The shoe was now on the other foot. For all his skill and ability in the jungle. Kraven was out of his element. In this concrete jungle, in his domain, Bruce Wayne was the hunter. And now Kraven had become the hunted.