Noir (Warning: violence and bad language)

Klingon Hamlet

Night's black heart was torn asunder by waves of lightning. Thunder broke the silence. Giant clouds parted to allow the moon's pale fire penetrate the darkness. Below, shrouded in man-made smog, the city glistened.

Atop the highest tower in this long-forgotten metropolis, a solitary figure crouched and viewed his home with disdain. Thirty years he had spent fighting for their freedom in the Liberty League. Yet they had done horrible things to stop him. Once he had a loving family, a proud home, beautiful children. Fame, fortune, and a bright future. Now he was a changed man. All those friends slaughtered before his very eyes. Riots, executions...it was like a nightmare that never faded, only grew in strength and persuasion.

Nicholas Norton gritted his teeth, swallowed down the memories like a poisonous gulp, felt his chest tighten and felt the all-too-familiar relief of mind-suppression. The neurodrugs worked their charms when they wanted to. They helped ease his pain---mental, physical---plus they made him more focussed than any other creature in the town. There, peering down among the intertwining streets with love and hate, he was the last of the heroes, a champion exiled by his very own lifeblood. His mission should have been over, and would be, when he finally delivered vengeance upon the man that commanded the death of his beloeved family.

That man's face flashed before his very eyes. Slick hair, wide grin, tall and skinny and pale like a vile cocktail---Justice Lord Frederik King. To the general public he was a commander of police and government and a hero of the modrn age, wiping out the scores of superpowered mutants "running amok"---who had in reality used their unholy powers to do good. People were stupid and eat bull**** for breakfast, Nicholas knew. Didn't make it any easier, though.

Tonight, Nicholas was not looking for Frederick King, though. Not in his normal guise. king liked to stalk the night as a far more predatory creature than his daylight persona. He called himself the Freak, an unstoppable force of menace that was strong, violent and intent on victimising the most vulnerable---women, children---that made even Nicholas' steely mind break down at times.

He remembered the faces: twisted, torn, bulging in all the wrong places....

There! A shape moved across the sea of sickly yellow streetlights. Normal humans would not have seen, nor would the mutasapiens, but Nicholas was different. He was an artifically-made superhero, a product of the government's First Wave. Now he was rogue. Now, he had found his target.

He stood up, adjusting his body armour. The chest and back plates weighed heavy even for his athletic frame. As a precaution, he took a boost off his drugline. Instantly, blue flame soursed through his veins. He was ready.

One step back, two steps forward...and he was airborne.

Wind sang in his ears. The barbed peaks of countless unused starscrapers rushed up to gut him. He punched a button at his hip and his suit extended thrusters. Calmly he guided himself around the onsluaght of towering monstrosities. Slick black metal ripped past him at all angles, whilst below the screams of sirens and the grunts of countless motor vehicles rose in volume and irritation.

Nicholas punched a switch at his visor. The sounds dimmed, the lights became more vibrant, and that single human shape jumping from rooftop to rooftop became a blue bullseye, racing across the night, unaware of the violent death that awaited him.

A loud crack deafened Nicholas, made him roar out in pain. Pain. His shoulder! Something had pierced his left shoulder plate and lodged deep inside his body. A readout on his visor confirmed the horrible truth: blister bullet. He had only seconds to react. And all the while, he hurtled earhtbound! He brought his right palm up to his left shoulder, twitched a finger to activate the strong magnet, and with a roar felt the bullet rip back out of him. He flung it away and just in time: it exploded in a gigantic fireball knocking the windows out of the many buildings now crowding the human projectile.

With a crash Nicholas landed on the Prime Motor Company building. He was ina gony but he dorve himself to his feet and raced towards the enxt rooftop ahead. The Freak was a minute away at top speed. Thrusters were good for freefall but no use on land. He used them to leap over each building but it was mostly his own strength and determination. Building after building he leapfrogged, cursing his aging muscles and wounded arm. He tried not to think who shot him, tried not to imagine the possible trap that lay ahead.

"You're mine, Freak!"

A fist slammed into his face just as he landed atop the KX Science Lab. He crumpled to the silver decking, face on fire. Instinct overrode the pain and shock; he jumped to his feet and confronted his attacker. It was Freak, garbed in his own mecharmour, grinning as usual.

"Hello Mr Noir. How's the arm?"

Nicholas, aka Noir, hammered Freak with both fists in the nose, driving the human beast to the ground. "Fine. A bit creaky. How the fu*k are you?" Manners would dictate he wait for the desired response, but Noir was not feeling particularly accommodating. All the waiting and training and hunting and hiding had tlead to this night. Here his prey mlay, ready to be destroyed.

A loud crack, and his spine went rigid. His teeth chattered, and his eyes could not move. His fists clenched and would not open. He was on one knee, unmoving as a stone statue.

Freak wiped the twin streams of red-black blood seeping from his beak-like nose, and flashed his perfect white teeth. Long and saber-like, they were, between thin, dry and cruel lips. Noir wanted to punch them through the back of the bastard's head, along with whatever lay in his head that resembled a human's brain. But he was frozen, and, quite possibly, *fu*ked.

"That was not a bullet, my friend. Not this time. No need to kill my prized trophy. That was a neurodart. Quite likely, it's reacting to the nasty mix of drugs pumping through your heart. So no quick movements." Freak knlet down so they were eye to eye, and Noir had no choice but to endure the rain of spittle and noxious stench of the monster's breath, as he told him:

"You will be my pet dog. Just like your pretty little wife and kids."

Through the red haze, the words slipped through. They...they...

"A-alive...?"

Freak through his head back and laughed, his chin jutting out. Noir so wanted to smash his fist into that horned chin, break his face open and stamp his eye sockets in. But he could only feel tears rolling down his own cheeks as Freak declared:

"I killed them, oh yes, but not straight away. Lots of time, I had, to make them my toys. And..." He rubbed his stomach. "They were delicious."

The words were like daggers to his heart. Energy surged through him. His visor flared up with heart rate warnings. He took them as good omen. His body cried out, and so did he, and without a single thought bar KILLKILLKILLTHATFU*K he pushed himself to his feet, grabbed the Freak by the scruff of the neck and jumped off the building, taking Freak with him.

Lights, steel, tarmac rushed up to meet them. Noir closed his eyes, ignoring the hail of punches and kicks that Freak brought upon him. The little insect was squirming. But not for long.

Only a few more seconds now.

More faces, this time his family. Smiling. They were sad smiles. Relieved smiles.

Thunder rolled and subsided, giving way to the silent night once more.