Chapter Text
There’s a new villain.
Well, that statement is a hyperbole, actually. This villain isn’t new by any means; they’ve been around for a couple months, long enough to make their stain permanent on this town's history. Blonde Blazer doubts she’s ever seen a person rise up the ranks as quickly as this guy, going from an unknown to a well-renowned and feared bounty hunter. Most fellow villains she’s interviewed about him– if they didn’t express unwavering adoration, that is– report even being scared of him coming after them.
It took a while to track down the exact reason why the villain targeted who he did, why corpses ranged from powerful to barely even a vigilante. It all has something to do with the supervillain group that’d been terrorizing Los Angeles; the Red Ring.
Every death comes directly after a confrontation with the Red Ring. It mostly starts like this; the Red Ring will have a scuffle with a superhero, the superhero will over power or arrest or disable the Red Ring in some way, and that superhero will turn up dead days later. And, especially in later cases, it seems that courtesy doesn’t extend to just heroes; some villains have popped up with charred corpses after getting in the Red Ring’s way. Their corpses are always recognizable by the explosion marks scattered across their bodies. If not for the similarities in cause of death, it’d be impossible to track these murders to the same person.
That difficulty lies in the fact that nobody has actually seen this villain. In official documents, he’s referred to as the “Red Ring Assassin," though Blonde Blazer has heard villains and bystanders alike naming him as “Shadow.” If not for the consistency in their descriptions of the guy, the concept of this being multiple people would still be on the table. Technically, that theory isn’t entirely able to be debunked; for all they know, it could be multiple people with similar figures wearing the same costume. But the heroes like to think the odds of it just being one guy outweigh the doubles idea. Whether that’s just wishful thinking or not, they’ll never know until they actually meet them.
Which is to come to the point of this discussion; the esteemed Red Ring Assassin has surrendered.
They’ve been tracking him down for weeks now, ever since they discovered the connection between those seemingly baseless murders. A dispatch call had come through from a remote location; the only thing discernible was the heavy breathing of someone unidentified.
Chase had called Blonde Blazer to headset immediately, getting what he described as “foul vibes” from the call. As if the person knew, as soon as she got within listening distance, they spoke.
“Come get me.”
There was no threatening tone to their voice, no sign of this being a call to action or a means to spike anger; the person on the other end sounded almost… Resigned. Defeated. But it was too clouded to be a rescue call from a civilian, however. Too many emotions hid behind those three words to be as simple as someone who needed help.
Soon after those words were said, they hung up. Chase had turned to Blonde Blazer, an uneasy expression on his face.
“If that ain’t fuckin’ cryptic, I don’t know what is.” His eyes squinted as he looked back to the location of the call– an abandoned warehouse not too far away from their current location. “You think it’s something serious?”
Blonde Blazer rolled her bottom lip through her teeth, something deep in her bones telling her this call was something she couldn’t discredit. “Any call that reaches us should be taken as something serious, Chase.”
Chase scoffed. “No shit. I mean if you want to take this one.”
The hero in question would’ve raised her eyebrows if she didn’t feel that those words on that call were supposed to be said to her, not Chase. She gave a small laugh. “I’m that obvious, huh?”
“Blonde Blazer, I’ve known you for damn near a couple of years now. You don’t think I recognize your body language?” Chase rolled his eyes, but there wasn’t any heat behind it. There never is. “If it’s calling to you, stay safe and go for it.”
The aforementioned woman stared at her companion for a moment more, knowing she hasn’t willingly offered herself for a dispatch in a long time. But this felt right. She was always supposed to go to this dispatch caller’s location.
“Thank you, Chase.” She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ll call for backup if things get out of hand, I promise.”
And that leads her to now, staring at another exploded corpse and the sinking feeling that she’s being watched.
This one is more brutal than the ones she’s seen before; she can’t even begin to conceptualize who it might be, their corpse charred beyond any recognition. She doesn’t step forward, though. Not yet.
It seems she doesn’t have to make the first move, however. Up above, she sees a flash of movement on an upper walkway; the metal clacking as footsteps walk across it. She feels herself go into a fighting stance, instinct taking over as she waits to realize if this is a civilian or a threat.
Walking into the dim light of this shoddy warehouse, a figure slowly comes into view. A person dressed in black clothing, wearing a black mask to conceal their identity. Their clothing is loose fitting, and the mask seems to cover their entire head; whoever this is doesn’t want anyone to have hints to their identity.
Blonde Blazer thinks back to descriptions she’s heard about the Red Ring Assassin, ones that were consistent across all accounts. All black, mysterious, large hood and baggy clothes…
“Is it really you?” Despite knowing her own strength, she can’t help herself in the chill that shoots up her spine. This guy– if it is who she’s thinking of– has taken out heroes even she admired. “Or are you some decoy?”
The figure jumps down from their spot on the walkway, landing square on their feet without a sign that the high drop affected them. Slowly, they raise their arms; a sign of surrender. Blonde Blazer only stiffens.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” There’s a low laugh that leaves her now, venomous and angry. “There’s no way a villain of your caliber would just surrender like this.”
With that same practiced slowness they used to raise them, their gloved hands reach up to tug at their hood, dragging it down. And without hesitation, those hands reach to the back of their neck, taking off their mask and dropping it to the floor with a pathetic flap of fabric.
Blonde Blazer feels herself unwind a bit– not in relief, no, but in confusion. The person under the mask is… A man. A young man with striking blue eyes. Eyes that’re weighed down by heavy eyebags, highlighting sunken cheeks and unruly facial and head hair. There’s a chip on his right ear. There are veins crawling up his neck.
“I’m not asking you to believe me.” His voice is raspy with signs of disuse, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as if it isn’t used to the movement. “I’m asking you to arrest me.”
Blonde Blazer stares at him. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m serious.” He gestured a booted foot to the corpse between them, the only thing getting between a clear shot either of them have to each other. “That was my last kill. I’m done.”
Another laugh leaves Blonde Blazer– this time out of disbelief. “You quit? What could’ve ever made someone like you change their tune?”
It’s rude, and personal, and usually she wouldn’t let herself lose her composure like this but God forbid a woman act a bit strange because of the scenario she’s in. The man shows no signs of being affected.
“We really don’t have time. If he finds out I’m giving myself up, I won’t have a choice in what I do next.” He talks with a detached calm, but Blonde Blazer doesn’t miss the streak of fear behind those guarded eyes. “Take me in first, please. The rest can come after.”
“He?” She shouldn’t be entertaining him like this. He’s one of the most powerful villains, a part of the most powerful villain gang Red Ring– this should’ve ended before it even started. But something in his tone makes her want to believe him, to believe in him. Maybe it comes from working in the Phoenix Program.
Maybe it comes from recognizing signs of torture.
“Shroud. You know him.” He drops the name like it’s the most casual thing ever, like he’s talking about the weather, like he didn’t just give up crucial information about his leader. Well known information, but confidential all the same. “I don’t want to die.”
I don’t want to die. Blonde Blazer winces. “That’s a bit extreme. You’re not going to die here, I swear.”
Her fists clench all the same.
He takes a step forward, boot silently stepping onto the concrete ground. “So you’ll take me in?”
She feels her fighting stance relax a little in the almost childish hope in his voice. This man wants nothing more than to be locked away. Her eyes dart to the wall behind him, breaking crucial eye contact. “I’ll have to take you to a federal prison. You’ll be sentenced to life– that is, if you don’t get death.”
He nods, like this was expected. Like this was the ideal ending. “I know.”
Blonde Blazer is still tense, still expecting to jump over a rug getting pulled beneath her. The Red Ring would not be as cocky as they are if they didn’t have the intelligence to back it up. This could be a long game, this could be bait, this could be any number of things.
This looks like none of those things. This looks like silent defeat. But looks are made to be deceiving, and you get nowhere by judging a book by its cover.
“Throughout all your infamy, we’ve never got a name for you.” She tilts her head. “Mind giving me one?”
He seems almost taken aback by that, eyes widening being the most expression she’s seen out of him since he revealed himself. Slowly, he takes off the glove on his right hand, holding it out.
“My name is Robert.”
She stares at his hand. It’s covered in ridges and bumps, scars from who knows what overlapped by those same veins that trace his neck. The blue is the same muted, dulled blue his eyes are.
She takes it in her own, smiling. “Well, Robert. You’re under arrest.”