Reptile
August 23 1948
Las Vegas, NevadaTaking a maintenance entrance, one man slithered past a dedicated crew of security workers. His stiff leather trenchcoat silently drug behind him as he snuck out of the boiler room and into a vibrantly decorated hallway. The tip of his fedora hung over the front of his mask, a glimmering helmet fitted perfectly to his face, smirking everywhere he went regardless of what he was going through. For whatever reason, perhaps a death wish, passion for truth, or giving in to the spirit of the times, he'd made it his mission to face off against the filthiest snakes he could find in Sin City.
One of them happened to walk into his sights. With a draw faster than a panther, he pulled out his dart gun and spat a small dose of a debilitating neurotoxin into his jugular. The needle breaking the skin felt like a bee sting, but the venom exploring his veins felt like whiskey flooding his soul.
As soon as the body dropped, a guard came running. His weapon was drawn, but he charged right into the sight of the pistol-firing marksman. His career ended with the whizzing sound of another dart jumping at his arm. The vigilante snuck ahead, creeping down on the floor, ducked beneath the site of any sentries before picking an isolated one off.
Near his goal, Copperhead, the classiest crimebuster Vegas had seen rose up beside an open doorway. He swapped weapons for an option that was definitely lethal, a dart packing venom enough to kill a dozen elephants, all for a single lowlife who'd abused his immune system to Hell and back with drugs, alcohol, and promiscuity. Stepping through the doorway, he nonchalantly stepped into plain view, impatiently bouncing his trigger hand against his forearm like he had somewhere to be. Without any remorse, he sabotaged the target's nervous system beyond any hope of survival, let alone recovery.
7:45 PM, February 25 2010
New York City, New York"No,n-nn-n-n-No!" This was not how my first day was supposed to go, the costumed inventor thought to himself as he used his signature boots to slingshot himself off of one balcony and onto another.
"No matter how far ahead I get, I can't shake him."Leap Frog, as he had begun to call himself, was having a rough day. To make up for his receding wages, he decided to kidnap a little girl to give his income the boost it needed, with the extra insurance of parental worry and cooperation provided by masquerading as a supervillain. He didn't particularly like the plan, but felt it was his best option. His own kids were starving, his inventions were unappreciated, and while he was trying to make a name for himself, he'd only made a fool of himself by failing to even run away. When Daredevil got on his tail, he quickly realized that he had to drop the girl to make his own escape. The only problem was that his inventions were malfunctioning, and it had nothing to do with Daredevil. They weren't supposed to be used so much, and at this point it was frying the motor.
Unacceptable. The electric coils beneath his feet were receiving so much current that it was beginning to burn his heels.
Checking over his shoulder, he saw the crimson clad crusader chasing him hadn't given any sign of letting up. It registered that even if he wasn't being pursued by a judgemental spirit, there was no reason to assume his captor wouldn't burn him with his own brand of hellfire. The thought put the burns on his feet into perspective.
It was impossible to think of a clever way to escape with the ruckus from a nearby train, despite having the ultimate option literally strapped to his feet. Desperate for a way out of accepting responsibility for his actions, Leap Frog sprung over a terrace and onto the rails of the train that had just passed. He then arched his back and pounced wildly, landing on top of the locomotive.
"If that were any closer I'd end up like that stilted fella," the man in the bulbous green costume chuckled, relieved from the prior moments burden like it were years ago despite watching the man in red shrink back into the distance. But.. there was something getting closer, a brown blur that slipped past Leap Frogs' eyes with its natural inspired camouflage against the rusted beams and rotting wood.
Not Daredevil or anything like him, the approaching predator was fast, like his ankles also had coils to thrust him. Leading with his forehead, his body was like an arrow that burst through the air. Running up the back of the train and crawling over the roof's edge, he was hardly seen before he struck with hundreds off pounds of pent-up fury. Springing off of his feet, he rammed Leap Frog, impacting his soft belly and throwing him off the side of the train before he flopped on the ground.
The casing of his battery pack took the worst of the fall. But Leap Frog was shaken by the strike. All he'd seen were the terrible snake eyes and scaly brown hood. His inner self said to run away without looking back, but his flesh disobeyed, trembling in place before being bombarded by his own fear. He shook on the ground, traumatized by a murderous gaze and terrified by a set of talons that raked his arm, a quaking shield to his face. The snake struck again, compacting his full might into a crushing blow dealt by his knuckles. The fists landed like the sky was sprinkling dumbbells.
"I think that's enough for now," the devilish figure seemed to burst into place, his molten red eyes locking onto the criminal's assailant with automated accuracy. The contender met his warning with a venomous glare.
"Unless you want to leave as rough as he is, this is your last chance to back out." Getting the hint, the scaly fighter slipped into the background, shooting across the ground like a deflating balloon. Redirecting his attention, Daredevil's neck dropped to the ground before he focused on the kidnapper at his feet.
"Sn-s-snake-man," he croaked, too weak to say anything clearly besides fumbling through a barebones description.
"Anything more to say?" Daredevil's voice rumbled, intentionally distorting his range. Passion ignited by silence, he slipped out the billy clubs from his holster and fired the hooked end into the distance, grabbing the green child-snatcher in arm before zipping off to the police station. There was no hope of catching the snake in the concrete jungle he hunted in. At least, not yet.
Matt Murdock
9:30 PM, February 25 2010
Hell's Kitchen, New York CityIt's not that I had something against him, besides his secrecy, it's just that he was an unknown factor in my war on crime, an extra beat in the ballad of truth and justice. If something outstanding were to happen after he caught Leap Frog, I needed to know because inevitably one of them would come back around to bite me.
The
chattering of my phone
jackhammering on my nightstand drew me into a conversation with exactly the right man to solve the mystery: Mr. A.
"Incoming call from: Rex_Graine.""Answer," I commanded my phone.
"Matt, I got your message last night so I did a little digging. The man you described is most likely Copperhead, vigilante from the area that has a few advantages over the every man, venom for one. There are few reports of his activity, but his M.O. is just what you described: Guerrilla tactics enacted in urban locations. There's nothing there to be suspicious about, but, he paused,
"that is a reason in itself."A
ping from my phone dropped off a few audio files of internet recordings, read aloud by Graine personally.
"Great, snakes.. Is there anything else to him? How do you think I can get ahold of him?""I dunno, kidnapping worked the first time. That's worth a try.""Alright, thanks Rex." Without actually answering me, he hung up. So I picked up my phone and said
"Play the Recordings." Cooperating with Graine is great, especially because I can't read anything on a phone.
"Playing File One: In the late 1940s, there was a vigilante named Copperhead who wore an expressionless copper mask and a trench coat," much like Mr. A himself.
"He tactically liberated Las Vegas of dozens and dozens of mobsters with his venom gun. The impression he left was minimal once he disappeared though. How, or if, he died was never confirmed. But his golden face has been recreated and used as a symbol by Vegas gamblers as a disrespectful tradition.""Skip.""Playing File Two: The rats of New York City have been getting swallowed up by a new criminal hunter dubbed Copperhead. His agility and blazing speed, in combination with venom-filled claws on his fingertips have sped through a slew of the NYC's colorful criminals.""Skip." I continued on like this for roughly two hours or so, playing everything Sage sent me over a couple times, making sure I really understood what I could. More than anything, I got the feeling that he was inspired to continue a legacy.
Daredevil
11:20, February 25 2010
Hell's Kitchen, New York CityThe taste of
sweat in the air is overwhelming. Usually the backroom of Potter's shop smells more like melted wax or various fragrances. I crept in through the back door, unlocking it with a heroine needle I'd picked up out of an alley. I can't really imagine knocking on the door being good for a highly surveyed man whose job is to keep me off his employers backs. I listened to the area while I was coming in, the only heartbeat was his own. So gently, I walked up making a little noise and set my hand on his shoulder.
"Melvin.""Gaugh!" A scream like a banshee popped out of his lungs. Catching his breath, he even
gagged on his own saliva.
"Melvin, I need to ask you a favor.""Of course you do," he gathered some poise, even spiting me a bit,
"but it'd be great if you'd actually knock 'er something instead a' breaking into my shop. Or maybe you could do me a favor, and stop with the dramatic entrances. I've known you for years, you could call me. We both know we aren't really enemies.""Yeah, well.. Melvin, I need to borrow a mannequin." Swallowing my pride a bit, I hoped he'd come around.
"It's fifty dollars." Dead serious, stonewalled, and compassionless.
"Please, just for one day.""I have a business to run, I can't afford to lose any more money, money costs me time and time makes me money. Besides, I know how rough you play. I can almost guarantee you won't bring it back.""Melvin, I swear I'll bring it back. I'll even pay you, but I don't have it on me right now. Please, just take my word for it.""Said the man who literally masquerades as a devil," the words stung.
"Take it, but I can't afford to do you favors all the time. That suit I made you," I felt the breeze of his finger
sailing towards me,
"yeah, the one you're wearing. It cost me money."What do you say to that? "Thank you, Melvin," letting my head hang down a bit, I went to pick up a nearby mannequin, removing it from its stand before discreetly Trying to leave through the back.
"You didn't say anything about my clothes, Daredevil."With a deep sigh, I apologetically acknowledged him.
"They'll be back, Melvin."
Daredevil
1:30 AM, February 26 2010
Hell's Kitchen, New York City"Someone help me!"The high-pitched scream could be clearly heard throughout the nearly empty street beneath the train tracks. While everyone with a relatively normal life goes to bed, it's well understood that after dark is the most dangerous time to go out, for average joes, villains, and vigilantes alike. With such a ravishing blonde in my arms, I was sure someone would pay attention, and it took a little longer than I hoped, but I got exactly who I wanted on my tail.
He arced through the air, bouncing off walls like a soccer ball to catch me. Now I know what it must be like to be The Owl. If it weren't for the fact that I patrol the worst and most generally dangerous section of the NYC, I'd probably have to deal with bad press or something. But I don't have to work under that constraint.
"That'ss enough running, Daredevil," my animal-themed pursuer commented, purposefully elongating his pronunciation of the letter "S" and giving a loud whisper to the rest.
"Almost," I spat back. His heart gave off a heavy
thundering irregularly. Alert, focused, and less confident in himself than before I had spoken.
My nose caught a whiff of a nearby
ice cream shop, run by ice cream artisans if there ever truly had been such a thing. Dashing with renewed strength, the balls of my feet fired like they were automated, throwing me in front of a short staircase. I nearly stopped on a dime, skidding on the sidewalk before pouncing up the stairs and using the feminine figure in my arms to break through the door for me. We made it inside right before Copperhead did.
As soon as I heard his feet land on the rusty metal surface beneath us, I dropped the blonde to the ground, tugging on a rope hanging from the ceiling and slipped backward before a metal door dropped in front of me.
I'd led him into a shipping container before dropping the doors, baited by recording, a mannequin, and a dose of the makeup from Karen's desk. Honestly, I would've been inclined to rescue the doll.
"Now," I chuckled,
"now, I'm done running."Instead of any threats, I heard round after round of the crate
roaring, echoing as he struck the walls mightily. If he was using his hands, I couldn't tell. The overlapping echoes muddied my radar-sense to be complete uselessness. I found myself on my knees, debilitated by the rolling thunder.
I swear to god, I need some ear-plugs in this thing. It came wave after wave, mixed with his screaming and the echoes that were born in my mind from hearing it go on.
Finally, he stopped, and the sound washed out.
But I was laying on the ground, hands crushing my ears to block the noise as best as I could. I tried to push myself up off the ground, but all I could do was roll over, sweeping my forearm against the floor. But I tried again. I made myself get up. My skull felt heavy, nodding down when I shakily got onto my feet.
"L-listen up.. I'm only going to say this once." I stopped for a second. Talking made me want to throw up.
Work through it.
"I didn't want to fight you. I still don't. I just.. needed to know whose side you're on, what it is that you do."A long silence stood between us. But it let my head clear.
"I fight. I fight criminals, I stop them, and when they're done, I fight some more.""Why? Are you protecting someone, maybe something?" Fighting for fun is beyond preposterous, but it still happens every day. I'd be shocked if I didn't know better. But at this point, I'd have to be living under a rock to forget everything I've seen.
"The only thing I'm protecting, is the original's legacy from being eroded by time." "I'm not so intent on protecting stories of the past as much as I'm invested in a better future. Perhaps you'd want to join, fight with me for tomorrow, where people can appreciate what you're doing today.""I'm not interested," he snipped.
"Now that we've had this talk, can you let me out of the cage?"Stupid. I wouldn't turn him into the cops, they couldn't handle him. I wasn't about to call SHIELD because he played a little looser than me. If he didn't want to do things right, to do more than play make-believe, it wasn't my problem. But I didn't have to make it easy for him.
"When you're motivated enough to get out and do something worthwhile, you'll find a way." Leaving it at that, I stepped away from the crate, hearing the sharp
gasp jump out from his lungs.
"You can't leave me here!"Yes
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