“Who do the crooks turn to when The Bat …
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ཐིཋྀ #𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐌
#𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 ཐིཋྀ
“This city’s a costume party, man,” Moth mutters as he walks in, helmet tucked under one arm. “You didn’t say nothin’ about three capes bein’ on the board.” He doesn’t waste time stepping closer.
“Spider-Man and »
» and limps down the street until he spots someone worse off -- someone twitchy.
Moth snatches it without a word. Quick flick. Flame danced. Off comes the helmet; a snapped beak. This killer needed to blend in.
“Thanks.” Then the coat -- a tattered one. Abandoned on a »
» Curiosity passed over through his mind--what exactly would it take to crack someone like him?
“Wake up, Bullseye,” He crouched down, the modulated voicebox of his helmet emitting like a ghost from the hit movie Scream. Yes, that movie.
“Where is he?”
already two steps ahead, focused solely on extraction. Yet, even he couldn’t resist firing back a cutting remark.
“For someone so completely clueless, Spider-Man, you sure talk a good game,” likely a voice box Spidey would figure. “Be glad I didn’t have my Misfits tag along.” »
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ཐིཋྀ #𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐌
#𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 ཐིཋྀ
⠀
dragging Bullseye across the loading bay, leaving a slick, glistening smear of blood in their wake. Spider-Man’s incessant banter was little more than white noise buzzing in the background.
Moth’s mind was »
That’s all that mattered.
“Let’s get you out of here.
You know... I read up on you. I know what you can do and I’m impressed -- but Daredevil is a problem, isn’t he?
Maybe I can help -- After you help us.” Looking back as he hauled Bullseye toward the exit.
Bullseye, a baritone laugh came from his helmet’s voice box as he unlatched the bloody bandit’s bandolier.
Without a word, moth hooked his hands under Bullseye’s arms, pulling him with a heft. The marksman was a mess; bloodied, and bruised, but breathing nonetheless. »
* #𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐌 * #𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 *
moth fired his cocoon gun, the weapon releasing a web-like net that shot across the space to wrap itself around Daredevil’s torso. The sticky threads solidified, a shimmering net of entrapment that would hold the blind »
» “Wound up’s my speed. Let’s ride it out.” Voice bites the air, his helmet is knocked off with a hand, slamming her back to the workbench. Wood groans, tools scatter.
He wedges between her legs, pinning her there, one hand raking up her spine, the other anchoring her hip.
🎶I promise I’ll be here when I can get some time…
Right now - - I gotta get what’s mine
I’ll be thuggin’ ‘til the end of time🎶
Drury exhaled with a note of sour, the realization creeping in like a slow-working poison.
He was a nobody.
“I’m sure you’ve heard of me before, and it’s time you get some fresh blood - - someone your enemies won’t expect.”
rotting away. He’d make do.
He darted through the broken remains of Arkham’s main gate, his wings unfolding as he launched himself over the barbed wire, using the wind to propel him forward.
He landed hard, skidding to a stop in a dark alley.
Freedom.
Killer Moth was back.
hinges and hurled it like a discus at a fleeing security officer.
𝘉𝘈𝘕𝘎! 𝘉𝘈𝘕𝘎!
Gunfire erupted from the front gates. The GCPD were moving in. “Not my problem,” Walker grumbled.
The Mothmobile was gone. Of course it was. Probably in some impound lot, »
Clayface was already halfway through liquefying his way through a steel-reinforced wall.
Victor Zsasz had tackled a guard, carving tally marks into his own arm before the poor bastard had even stopped breathing.
And just down the hall, Bane ripped a cell door off its »
With practiced ease, he suited up. The weight of his gear settled over him like a second skin.
“Alright…” Walker breathed out, checking the chamber of his cocoon gun. “Let’s get the hell outta here.”
He could hear the fights breaking out all around him. »
