"We are live from Wade Middle School here in Oakville. We have reports coming in of a brazen hostage crisis involving the Caputo cartel. Eddy Caputo and his gang have taken over the school and are holding the staff and students hostage at gunpoint. The reason for his motives isn't clear and demands haven't been brought forth yet. Andrew, we will turn to you for the aerial coverage- Hold it, this just in! Breaking news! A lone figure has left the building from Wilson street! Andrew, can you get a better shot?"
Sandro Lombardi nearly choked on his chocolate milkshake as he watched the news with his best friends Anthony Wheeler, Joe Maggio, and Nick Lieber. The 16 year old juniors from Lee High were chilling at Archie's Diner afterschool, after all, it was located a couple blocks down Stanley street, when the news report came on.
"Incoming reports! Caputo and his men are reported to be found dead! We have yet to confirm-Hold it, was that Poison Gas?"
"Dayum, the bro with the gas-mask wacked all those druggos?" Anthony's jaw dropped. " Incredible! I wouldn't be able to take on even one."
"Nor would we all." Joe shook his head.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡte8Ufd1IlJ
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"Not even the cops would attempt to mess with the Mob or the cartels, " Nick added. "How does this dynamo do it?"
"Told you all he was quite something." Sandro smirked. "Maybe he should replace the security forces of Oakville. "
Alessandro Lombardi had admired the badass scourge of the Underworld and had personally looked up to him in order to stand up to anytype of injustice. Ever since he was 12, Sandro was never fearful of standing up to bullies and punks and even stood up for those who couldn't do so for themselves all because of his childish acclaim for Oakville's shady vindicator. Part of the reason he cheered on the masked man each time he made a criminal bite the dust was the anger he had when his father, a known firefighter, was killed when Syndicate capos had their soldiers fire on his unit for reasons unknown today. He secretly hoped that Poison Gas was accomplishing what the police couldn't or wouldn't, and avenging his father in the process.
"I wouldn't go that far, but you are onto something. The dude has taken out three times more criminals than any security force in the city," Nick explained.
"It's because he doesn't take prisoners,"Joe pointed out.
"Don't you think it's better for the city or the world for that matter, that way?" Anthony challenged.
"Um, want to come over to my place for band practice? My mom is making gnocchi for dinner."
The high schooler was glad to change the subject as it was getting touchy for his friends. Once they agreed, they were on the way to practice for the Battle of the Bands event at Lee High that weekend. Sandro really wanted to win this one.
---
Excellent, he is made of sturdy material alright. It is breathtaking how he was able to to take out a dozen drug runners without killing a single hostage. He has the mettle of a one man cavalry. This all worked out ideally.
"Sir, you need to see this! The lad you earmarked has slaughtered the cartel employed by the Syndicate."
Glancing up from his new desk hidden in the upper layer of the Syndicate's base of operations, Rupert Hedgerington, now going by the moniker Agony, saw his frizzy-haired aide Celeste enter the room, a smart phone in her hand. She was one of the few aides that he had posted here to keep tabs on the Syndicate and report to him in order to alert the top shark of the Syndicate in case one of these Dons got any delusions to act out of line. Agony's aide then presented him the video one her phone. It was the same one he had relayed to his computer before she barged in.
"This is bad! What's our next move? Do we have a contingency plan? Please advise, good sir."
Agony just chuckled. "It's perfectly fine, Celeste. Just relax. Everything is going flawlessly according to the plan."
"It is?" The frizzy-haired Brit tilted her head. "Well, if you say so, then I'll humor you."
"That would be best." Agony sipped some of his tea. "Now that we have gouged his capabilities and seen what he's made of, we will progress to the next stage of my plan. Are you ready?"
"Ready as can be , Sir."
"Excellent, now I need you to deliver this thumb drive to a freelance journalist known as Gwen O'Shay. " The English entrepreneur handed her a hand-sized manila-style package. "She'll know what to do with it. "
"Understood. I'll leave at once."
"I will have Shifty escort you. He will take my form as my double in case the woman gets any grand delusions. With freelancers, you can never be too careful, you know."
As Shifty stepped forward from where he stood behind his employer, his body shimmered as if a hundred fireflies were congregating around on him before he morphed into his boss. Agony saw Celeste blink her eyes in confusion and awe like most people who saw the henchman's gift. Agony couldn't blame her since seeing Shifty's quirk was a queer sight for sore eyes. As he watched the shifter escort the aide past the doorway where Reaper, the demon-masked guard, and Ghoul, the phantom-looking one, stood on either side of the doorway.
Ah, Shifty, I remember the days when you were known as Samuel Walton. When I met you in New York, you were nothing but a petty big city thief who had tried to rob me, but I saw through your ruse. Your ability has come in handy since then and I am flattered you knew what was beneficial for you and joined my entourage. Now, if only this Poison Gas man would have the same smarts as you.
---
"Luigi Denza was not only a competent and honorable business associate, but a devoted family man as well. He showed unwavering devotion to whatever cause he believed in whether it was in the professional or personal setting. I had the honor of knowing this reputable man personally before he was murdered in cold blood in front of his wife and daughter."
As it began to drizzle, Rosa Denza blinked as tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. No one could tell she was crying with the rain that was starting to pour from the weeping sky. It seemed that the sky also mourned for her father. No longer listening to Moretti, the disgusting-looking greaser who gave the eulogy, her eyes wandered the funeral home, taking in the attendees. Many of her father's associates had attended , forming a box around his pearl-white casket. She stood close beside her mother, who was sobbing heavily. Every time she closed her eyes, Rosa would see the malevolent-looking monster holding the smoking gun as she and her mom huddled together in fright, still wearing her deceased father's blood.
"You knew what he was." The killer had said as he turned to leave. "You have two choices now. You can pick yourselves up and reform yourselves or continue on as you have, bringing more despair and tragedy upon yourselves. "
Her fist clenched and she ended up grinding her teeth in rage. How desperately she wanted to find the gas-masked brute and avenge her father's brutal death. She immediately calmed down as her mother reached over and gently clasped her hand. Her mother's touch never failed to assuage her of her fear, anger, or sadness. An hour later, the procession had ended and after endless crowds of her father's associates or close friends and family came to give their condolences, Rosa, weary from the day's proceedings, was going to ask her mother if they could leave, the sooner they escaped the crowd, the better, when four individuals approached them.
"Pardon me, but you are Bennedetta and Rosa Denza, correct?"
Glancing at the umbrella-donning man with the polished British accent, Rosa noticed that he was surrounded by three uncanny figures she assumed were the Englishman's bodyguards. They were either hooded or masked, but the one that chilled her spine the most was the one who's eyes resembled empty black holes. As a flash of lightning lit up the sky, the pale-faced man's gaze then pierced hers, resulting in her averting her eye-contact.
Holy Shyte, is that a man or a demon?
"Yes, we are." Her mom glanced up through the veil of her black outfit.
"I've come to pay my respects," the man explained, his dark eyes flitting from side to side. "Despite not knowing him personally, I must say that your husband was a wonderful man and was an asset to our line of work. It's a shame he had to go the way he did. However, I am not going to let his death go unavenged."
Rosa's ears perked up at that. "So you mean, you are going to send someone to take him out?"
"Why yes, I certainly am and I will personally oversee the mission." The slim-bodied Brit approached her. "Rupert Hedgerington at your service. Before I send these three gentlemen after your father's killer, I need to know a few things about him. Will you be willing to describe what occurred that night and what you recall about the killer?"
Oh my God, he's sending those creepy looking men after the gas-masked menace? I would sure hate to be him right now. The only other characters that scare the bejeezus out of me more than him are those three!
She glanced at her mom, who nodded, before glancing back at the men who may be the avenging force that they required. Glancing between the one hooded one with the animalistic yellow eyes staring at her, the one with the purple-patterned mask with demonic adornments, and also the ghoulish one with ragged breathing that sounded like the sighs of the wind, she turned back to Mr. Hedgerington.
"Are they going to be the ones who will make the militant maniac pay for what he did to my father?"
The British man nodded. "Of course. Shifty, Reaper, and Ghoul are dying to see action once more. They never failed me once."
Are they even human?
She took a breath before informing them of the masked man. "Ok, here's what I know."
---
I've got you now!
Craning his head to and fro to scan the dark hallway of the apartment complex , Poison Gas kicked in the weak bronze door and entered the room a cell of Al-Qaida was staying in. He had thought he'd ended the terrorists' ambition to carry out an attack in Oakville's soil, but chopping the head off the snake didn't end it. Instead, a new one took its place and was planning an imminent attack on City Hall. It was all thanks to intel the vigilante received this morning due to him listening in on places he bugged that he would thwart the attack by eliminating this Islamic terrorist threat in his hometown once and for all. Arabic music greeted his ears as he entered the lion's den.
"Hello to you as well!"
As three scarved men glanced over at him with stunned looks in their eyes, Poison Gas advanced on them with only a hunting knife in order to preserve his bullets unless necessary. These men didn't appear to be armed after all. Shouting in Arabic, two of the cell members charged at him, but the vigilante had seen his own fair share hand to hand combat and was able to counter one man's attack and flip him on the table before turning to deal with his partner. He plunged his knife into the man's gut and twisted it before pulling it out. Blood seeped out of the gasping man's mouth and onto his multi-colored scarf as he collapsed onto the orante carpet below. Before he could turn and deal with his other adversary, he felt a heavy blow on the back of his head. Staggering forward, he gripped the edge of the table before turning to face his other target, who grasped a fire extinguisher in his arms.
That really stung. Luckily, this vintage World War 2 helmet the Army/Navy store came in handy. It really cost me a fortune.
The terrorist let out a yell as he came in for a second strike, but Poison Gas sideswiped him, disarming in the process, before yanking him close and slitting his throat. Hurling the dead terrorist away, his eyes surveyed the apartment for the cell leader who now bore the late Abu Omar's name.
Where the hell is that yellow-bellied rat?
Poison Gas then heard shouts outside before racing to the window. He saw the olive-skinned man, the lower half of his head covered in his scarf, push past people on the stairs as he fled. Oakville's shadowy enforcer hurried out of the apartment and tailed after the terrorist. However, once he saw that his target was already at the end of the floor, he knew he had no choice but to resort to his shotgun.
If it is martyrdom he wants, then it is martyrdom I'll give him. Allahu Akbar, huh? How dare he sully a peaceful group's god with his bloodthirsty aspirations. More like Seytanu Akbar! Say hello to the virgins for me-not!
Taking aim, he spied Abu Omar leap over some laundry lines toward the roof of the smaller complex before he let a round loose. HIs shot was confirmed as the dead Islamist plummeted to the lawn below.
All in a day's work.
Heading back to his hideout in his black BMW, the vigilante thought about how he wanted to spend the rest of his evening. Maybe he'd get some chicken fingers from Kane's or a Habanero Texas-style sandwich from Delmar Brother's Deli, but what he craved most was some alcohol in his system.
I need to see how many tequila or whiskey remain in my stocks. At the very least, please let there be some beer left in the fridge.
As he stopped at an intersection, he noticed a punk in a kelly green hoodie with a Cleveland Indians cap handing a substance in a pouch to a similar-looking youth who handed him wads of cash. This looked much like a drug deal to him. As the young punk strolled away, the trenchcoat-clad crusader caught the grinning flame patched onto the boy's jacket.
The mark of the Fear Street Avengers, huh? Maybe he can lead me to their hangout. I can deal with them in one fell swoop while the night is done. That will make my night.
Poison Gas turned his vehicle to gradually tail the gang member and once he saw him slip into a shady-looking alley, he gunned the engine and turned into it to launch his little blitzkrieg onto the unsuspecting street rats.
---
A day later, Alex Smith approached a Newspaper stand to purchase some Oakville Daily, to see what they reported on his alter ego, and some cigarettes, all for enjoying while he read the paper. As he paid the elderly Asian man who ran it, he made his way to a bench at a bus stop nearby when he spotted a posting on a post that captured his attention. Alex had seen a few of those plastered around several gun stores, liquor stores, sporting and military surplus lodges, the mall, and other places he frequented. Initially, he paid them no heed as he dismissed them to be several scams designed to prey on the unemployed or the desperate, but once he saw the picture of Poison Gas, he couldn't resist giving it a look.
So, a freelance journalist decides to write a scoop on me? I hope it's good.
Beginning to think that the articles of him written by Gwen O'Shay were plastered about to spread awareness of his heroic deeds, Alex had decided to read it when his eyes came upon a small map of Oakville with a gas mask marking the fountain in front of the town's City Hall.
What's that? Some kind of treasure buried there? I should go check it out. It could be meant only for my eyes. I should gear up first as if someone sees me like this, they may put two and two together. The last thing I need is for my identity to be exposed. The press would make a field day out of it.
---
He arrived at the fountain at sundown when the place was the least crowded to be as inconspicuous as possible. Prior to arriving, he had scouted the area for any lurkers, spies, or cameras, and once he was satisfied, he had approached the stone fountain. The water glowing a vibrant blue from the lights at the bottom, Poison Gas used a treasure detector he had bought in the past to scan the water. Once it was put to good use, the squawking sound started up. The masked hunter found a small waterproof pouch hidden between the levels of the fountain's stony exterior. Snatching it up, he decided to give it the once over.
That detector was a good investment after all. Now what is this little thing that someone took the trouble of hiding in plain sight? I'll find out once I'm back in my hideout. I need to see if it is some booby-trap my foes left me.
Once he was back in his hideout and completed the necessary checks , he opened the pouch to find a small silver flash drive the size of a bullet.
What do we have here? Fanboy or Fangirl pics? More articles on me? Let's find out, but first we need to check for any malware.
As soon as his computer's antivirus scan was complete, he opened the contents of the drive. The screen was then filled by what looked like a mild-mannered man dressed in a business suit seated in a leather chair in what looked like a rich man's estate complete with the bookshelf behind him.
"Salutations, my friend. At long last, we get to set up contact. Oh, how rude of me. I forgot to introduce myself. You may call me Agony and I have an offer you can't refuse. I have seen how you take down criminal elements within your hometown, even against uneven odds. How you accomplish such a feat astounds me. No matter, I would love to have someone who has the unstoppable force of a one man army as one of my enforcers. You get to experience the thrill of battle at my command and I pay you in the millions. What do you say? Think your decision over carefully before you respond. Would you like to retire to the Bahamas? I can make it happen. All you have to do is seal the deal. I look forward to receiving your reply."
As the man with the London accent finished his proposal, a grin formed upon Poison Gas's face underneath the industrial mask upon his face.
No need to wait long. I have already thought it over. It's time to submit my answer.
---
"Park here , please."
Josef, the white-mustached chauffeur, parked the black unmarked van with red tire plates beside the dumpster in front of the back alley of business establishments and residences. Stepping out, Agony and his three henchmen made their way to the alley where their contact awaited them. A petite-statured fair woman who looked in her late 20s approached the group, clutching a small manila pouch. Her shamrock-green eyes looked them over nervously before she spoke.
"You must be the one that goes by Agony. Your intended recipient has responded."
"Excellent." Agony glanced over at Reaper and nodded. The purple-masked ruffian, clad in a mask, headed over to the woman to retrieve the drive. Despite his gruff-looking exterior, Reaper, once known as Oakville native Gerard Winchester, was an intelligent and studious lad who had a bright future for himself in the field of criminology until his work had gotten the better of him. Unable to restrain his murderous impulses, Winchester became Oakville's renown serial killer dubbed the Reaper for the way he slashed his victims until detectives soon caught a whiff of his trail. Had Agony not intervened, Reaper would not have been here today by his side.
Ah, it's only disheartening how the son of an accountant and an English teacher should delve down to animalistic instincts. However, since he has yet to hesitate to do whatever I require of him as well as the jobs that require the most vicious responses. I know I can count on him to get the job done. His older sister Carey is now a medic in the Navy, but it was my intercession that won her the position. I make sure to reward those who serve me, that includes their loved ones.
The freelance journalist gulped. "I don't think you are going to like his response."
"Huh?" The bespectacled corporate leader blinked in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"
Gwen seemed to pale up a bit more than usual. "You will need to view his response for yourself to understand."
"Let's have it then!" Agony motioned for his goons to retrieve the flash drive and a laptop to insert it inside to view the message. "What's keeping you? Get my laptop from my bag!" He jerked his thumb at the van where Josef was seated.
"No need for that." Gwen took out her own. "I've got one right here."
As the four overlords of the Syndicate gathered around the woman as she started her laptop. Reaper handed the shiny silver flash drive to Ghoul, who inserted it in the docking bay of the device with his gloved hand. The ghastly-looking human, if that's what you can call him, was once an aspiring thrill film creator from Germany known as Eddie Bauer who was experimented on to be the next generation horror film attraction. The result was his appearance appearing ghoulish, hence his name, and the acquirement of superhuman stealth and nimbleness. At the cost of his humanity, he earned the ability phase through solid walls and made a perfect spy or assassin almost like Shifty. Their little rivalry was something Agony welcomed as one asset tried to outdo the other. The businessman running the show immediately stopped reminiscing about how he came upon one of his most trusted henchmen as Poison Gas, surrounded by a bright green background, appeared onscreen.
"Agony, I am touched that you'd approach me with an offer of this caliber. That is quite a lot of money you are offering me and I must admit that I was lured by the temptation itself, but I have made my decision and remain steadfast in it. You really think money can buy you everything? Does having influence on some of the most powerful people in the world make you all that? I got news for you, buddy. It doesn't. In fact, money corrupts the soul. Perhaps you have learned that the hard way, Mr. Rupert Hedgerington. Yes. I know all about you and Hedgerington & Hurley. I do my research, you know."
The post-apocalyptic man cackled before he resumed speaking.
"In case you didn't get the hint or it went over your head, let me break it down for you. My answer to your proposal is no. Not even all the money or riches in the world will get me to work for you. Instead, your offer just invigorated me to hunt you down. Since you are now at the very top of my hit list, you need to watch your back. Mark my words, I am coming after you next, scumbag."
In the lime green light, Poison Gas revealed his shotgun, which he cocked, before the video ended. Gritting his teeth, Agony turned and kicked the dumpster, resounding in a loud thud that could be heard in the dim alley.
"No one says no to Rupert Hedgerington! No one!" Fuming, he turned to the three misfits and the chestnut-haired writer. "That does it! It's time to implement Plan B! You all know what that is?" As Reaper, Ghoul, and Shifty nodded, the raging sponsor of organized crime turned his attention to Gwen. "As for you, if you would agree to carry out one final task for me, you'll find an extra $100,000 dollars transferred to your account. Sound good?"
The brunette columnist nodded, her green eyes bright at the mention of money. "I'm all in, Mr. Agony."
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