Bad Things

A knife stuck firmly into the wood paneling, the handle still vibrating from the force of the throw. A faint chuckle followed, one might even call it arrogant. Between the weapon and the wall, there was a picture of a Mr. Hannibal Blake. I suppose i really don't have to explain this to you, but i will anyway. The picture was target practice, and perhaps a symbolic way of checking another target off the vigilante's list. Regardless, a blade was stuck in the head of the picture, right between Hannibal's eyes, and that could only mean one thing.

Drifter had found a new target.

If you looked at this wall, it would quickly become apparant what it was. There wasn't just one picture with a knife through it, but dozens. All of them were dead, except for the newest addition. Drifter was going to change that today. After all, his collection of dirt bags had to be complete...... Blake was a cancer, you see, feeding off the rest of the world just to make himself stronger. People like him ruined lives with a reckless lack of empathy. He would get a taste of his own medicine, in more ways then one.

Luke sat at his work table, filling a few syringes with a blueish fluid. He wore gloves and a face cover, that's how dangerous this stuff was. And to think this was meant to help people........ Well, perhaps it would do just that, only not in the way Blake promised.

Once done with his little toys, he loaded them into his gauntlets. The guns on the custom gloves let out a hiss of air as they cocked, ready for the fight to come. Blake was known for keeping body guards, so this wouldn't be as easy as other targets. That said, the result would be the same.

Luke got the rest of his gear on, pulling his hood up over his masked head. The entire outfit looked more high tech then it was, but that allowed for an element of intimidation. Opposition might fear him a bit more if they thought he was packing million dollar technology, after all.

Once all his weaponry was in place, Drifter headed out. What he didn't know, was that his opponents had already figured out who his next target would be. He could have been walking into a blood bath, and he was none the wiser.
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Drifter was not a sniper. Sure, he had long range capabilities when it was required, but the vast majority of his targets were taken out with a mixture of planning, tech, and close combat. He made sure to make the kills as intimate as possible. Just killing men like Blake wasn't enough, you had to send a message. Yet again, that's what he intended to do tonight.

Drifter had decided to use Blake Industry's window cleaning lift to get a couple floors up, rather then using the door. He had made sure the cleaner wouldn't show up for work, and then used the equipment himself. After being elevated, he used one of the only accessible windows in the building to get inside. After that, it was only a matter of discreetly getting to the penthouse. An easy task if you knew what you were doing.

After a good ten minutes of dodging security and climbing stairs, Drifter was one floor below his target. There was no way he was getting in there through the stairs. The door was guarded by at least a half dozen men, and was made of solid steel.

Instead, he used a thermite bomb on the ceiling of the floor below. He had to take out a couple guards down there, but a simple taser dart made that easy without alerting the building to his presence. After that, he only had to detonate.

The explosion wasn't that impressive, but what it lacked in power it made up for in it's abilty to burn through practically anything. Within seconds of his entry point being formed, Drifter had kicked off the wall and leaped through it, gaunlets raised.

He saw two men, taken off guard and unready for action. Just like the men below, a incapacitating dart was all it took, and they went down with violent convulsions. But, they weren't dead. There was no need for that. He only had to kill his target, because after all, the men that worked for Blake didn't deserve to pay for his sins.

Apparantly, he still had the element of suprise, but the floor felt too quiet. There should have been much more security today, yet only a few incompetent guards stood in his way thus far. Either Blake's militia of enforcers wasn't as impressive as people said, or he was being played.

Drifter shrugged. He was probably just being paranoid.

Luke took his time. There was no reason to go rushing into things, especially when everyone seemed so unaware of his presence. He could use this time to gain some valuable intel, or foil any kind of would-be ambush. He moved to one of the cameras, pulled out his phone, and began sniffing the surveillance network. The best part about these new systems was that they were so digital, anyone who knew what they were doing could upload whatever they wanted. Cracking bots, packet grabbers, you name it. All it took was a little finesse, and a good minute or so, and his self made program was brute forcing it's way into the system. In a moment, he had eyes inside the office.

Now, how do we infiltrate a square room, four armed guards in the center? There's absolutely no cover, and each of the doors have a gun trained on them. Even if i popped smoke, they would know where i was entering from. They have full auto weapons. They don't need to see, just spray and pray......... I have to do this quickly, a shock operation. Luke thought to himself, pulling from his satchel a couple grenades and a stick of Semtex. He stuck it on the wall then moved to a safe distance, but one that would still allow him to quickly enter the room through the hole his explosion would create.

The four guards would hear a faint burning sound, like a fuse slowly burning down, and then it would happen. A large explosion blowing out the wall, followed by the room filling with thick white smoke. One thing about Drifter's mostly cosmetic mask was that it had been crafted with special back lit lenses which allowed, well, decent visibility in smoke. This was no Alba Tech, but it would give a small advantage none the less.

Coughing would erupt in the room as Drifter entered, wasting no time charging the first guard. He needed to use the low visibility and shocked senses of the guards to his advantage. He quickly attempted a take down on the first man, repeatedly laying heavy blows on his head once on the ground. Only a truly hard individual wouldn't be knocked out by such a surprise onslaught. These were brutal, impatient hits. One mistake could cost him his life, so Drifter didn't care if it was a bit over the top.

After taking care of the first, he tried to make out other figures in the smoke. He really didn't care if he hit Blake with his tasers or not, so he simply sprayed the outlines with the darts. hoping for the best. He heard one, two, and three loud thuds. Only three. There was one other man left in this room, Drifter only hoped it was the one who wasn't a trained merc. The smoke was fading a bit, not gone but not as thick as it was at the start. Lukas realized he needed to find the last man before it was too late, but that's when he heard a familiar sound. It was a tell, an automatic weapon, being readied to fire.

Drifter hit the floor, and a spray of bullets came his way. He knew now where the man was, but that didn't help him when high velocity rounds were being shot at him. Luckily, these weren't the highest caliber, so the hits he did take were mostly absorbed by his armor. They still hurt like heavy blows to his body, but he was staying alive, even if his ear drums were screwed at this point.....

Once the clip was wasted, Drifter didn't hesitate. He pulled his bat from it's holding place, chucking it as if it were a throwing knife. The bat spun into it's target, making a smacking sound on impact. A grunt, then a thud, followed.

Drifter got up, the smoke fading to the point that he could make out where everyone was. He took a breather, glancing out the window for only a moment. Thank God he did, as the sun reflected in an oh so perfect way at that very moment. It was like a shiny coin in the distance, positioned on a roof. A mundane sight to the uninitiated, but doom to Drifter.

"Fuck!" Drifter said, diving for cover. Unfortunately, there really wasn't any. This office was completely open to the window, so all Drifter could do was make a B-line to the room he came from. He doubted he would make it without a bullet in his chest, though.

Why would a sniper throw away their advantage after a single shot? It made no sense. Drifter wasn't complaining, but it did bring up a few questions. Perhaps this person was confident in their own power, maybe even a meta. That, or Drifter was worth more alive then dead. Could also be that Drifter was simply overthinking it, but he wasn't alive today because of a lack of analysis.

Drifter moved behind a bar in the room outside the office. It was some sort of wreck room, he guessed. He awaited his opponent, knowing now his eyes had not deceived him. After all, a fifty cal had just barely missed him. Why was there a sniper in the first place? Whoever it was, they were waiting for him. How was that even possible? He couldn't answer that question yet, his life was on the line. He heard his potential assassin land, then walk into the room. His heart was in overdrive, his breathing heavy, but controlled. He was mostly calm, knowing that one mistake could cost him his life, but also knowing he wouldn't make it.

The composure he had was solid, but it went right out the window in the next few seconds. Hearing the voice, the woman's voice, made his heart sink. His eyes widened in both anger, fear, and betrayal. So this is where she had went. Not strong enough to deal with the stress of their relationship, Skyler went back to killing for money. This was the kind of person he thought that he might have loved. Maybe he was right to deny it in the first place.

Drifter laughed, giving away his position. The laugh turned into a more extended display. Yet another joke life had played on him had the young man in a fit. He had to hand it to the universe, it had a sense of humor, as cruel as it was. But like everything in his life up to this point, he would make it through....... Even if he had to go back on some of the things he had said to Skyler in the past.

"That's the most cliche line I've ever heard uttered. Stick with the trying to kill me, hun. But first, i think I'll make this more entertaining. No super toys, alright?." Drifter said, flipping a few switches on his gauntlet. In a moment, a whirling sound came from it, and his military grade EMP was activated. It let out a faint pulse, lights flickering and the TV in the room practically exploding. His mask went down, his phone, and all the other hacking devices he had home brewed. He was willing to bet that his opponent would be more inconvenienced, though, so it was fine.

"What's a fine girl like yourself doing working for Hannibal Blake? You know how much of a piece of shit he is? You're not just killing me, you're killing thousands." Drifter said, distracting Skyler with words as he pulled the pin on a frag grenade. She could handle it, he knew. And if she couldn't, well, maybe she deserved to feel some pain for her lack of convictions.

Drifter tossed the grenade over his shoulder, making sure to cook it long enough to avoid any throw back tricks, then covered his chest by balling himself up behind his cover. The grenade would go off before it hit the ground.

Lukas had delayed Skyler. Perfect. He had a good half a minute to do whatever he wanted, which, in such a situation, felt like an eternity. He tried to think of a plan, but every one of them was lethal, or at least hurt Skyler quite a bit. That's not what he was intending to do, at least not physically. No, he wanted to show her the pain she had caused him, and eventually reveal himself.

He was disappointed, heartbroken, and full of uncontrollable rage all at the same time. He thought she was different, someone he might be able to trust, but then she left him high and dry to chase her old thrills. He scoffed at the woman's words. He didn't have an elaborate trap this time, and his seconds trickled down to zero. The only thing he managed to do was arm a flash bang, holding it behind his back as he stood up from his cover. He had no weapon raised, unless you counted his death stare.

I...i could kill you right now. It would feel so good. It would certainly be a start to evening the score with this fucked up world......... But you're lucky....... You're lucky i still ..........i still love you. Lukas thought to himself, even within wrestling the word. He couldn't take much more emotional abuse, and that was two weeks ago. With Matt revealing everything to him, the hypocrisy and lies, and Pat hating him for trying to be protective, it was too much. Skyler was just the icing on the cake. He truly had no one at this very moment. But, it still wasn't enough to make him end her.

"You just said you weren't going to tell me, then proceeded to tell me. This is basic stuff hun." Lukas said, his snarky act hiding the true emotion within, at least for now. He slowly walked toward her, stepping around the bar. His boots made a clicking sound against the fine tile, right up until he stopped, around fifteen feet from Skyler.

"So, Doctor, what's the price on my head?" Drifter said. With that loop thrown her way, and nothing but a close combat weapon drawn (Which of course could be thrown, but pretty easily avoided in Lukas' mind), Drifter felt secure. To add to the shock of her identity being called out, Luke pulled the flash bang, holding it in the palm of his hand as it went off.

It would daze him slightly, but the tinted lenses of his mask were enough to make it manageable. Skyler only had one eye to work with, so all he had to do to remove all her visibility was to take out the other. Drifter was sure his flash bang would do just that.

Once it was set off, he dropped it, the dead grenade hitting the tile with a crack. Before it even hit the ground, the vigilante pivoted, a curve to his course of attack. He would charge Skyler from her right, where her lack of visibility was total, and attempt to tear the knife from her hand, even if he had to shoot it with his gauntlets.

If successful, Luke would toss the knife and charge into Skyler with all his might, not caring how ruff it was. If all went well, he would force her against the wall, pinning the woman by her throat. That, or Skyler could have pulled away after losing her knife, or even somehow before. But Luke had his plan, and with superior senses in his favor, he deemed it likely.

His plan had worked out successfully. If he were to be honest with himself, he had thought before this any fight between him and Skyler would result in his death. But, here he was, managing to trick his way into an advantageous position. What could have been a complete slaughter had turned into a way for him to show Skyler how he felt, and the next phase of that was revealing himself.

He didn't even have to reach for his helmet, she was doing it for him. She knocked it off his head with force, expecting resistance likely. There was none, Lukas let her do it, even pulling his hood down while keeping his other hand on Skyler's throat.

His messy dirty blonde hair, his blue eyes, and his pale as a ghost skin were revealed in that moment. A half smile crept up on his face. He tilted Skyler's head from side to side with a bit of strength, man handling her. Though, concern was in his eyes, and checking for wounds was the point of the action.

"I didn't hurt you too much, did i Sky?" Drifter said, still keeping a firm grip on the woman. His eyes then lit up with the anger that had previously only simmered in them, and he pushed his face closer to her's, staring into her with pure contempt--outrage.

"Well maybe i should have! After all, you were going to kill me, and for what?! FOR WHAT?!" Drifter screamed, attempting to pull Skyler toward him, before slamming her back into the wall. He was clearly emotional at the moment, the intensity of his movements turned up to eleven. Drifter was not himself.

"I could have been anyone. A father, a son, a lover, a husband. I could have been a kid, just trying to make a difference. You'd have killed literally anyone from that roof, for fucking money!" Lukas said, now trying his best to throw Skyler to the side, hopefully to the ground. Tears were streaming down his face, but the primal anger persisted.

"I should have known the first day i met you, should have known you were nothing but a lap dog. What are you doing? You think you're doing this for me? No, this isn't for me. If it was you wouldn't have left me when i needed you most. You couldn't handle the strain i put you through, so you ran off to do the only thing you know. Killing." Lukas said, wanting desperately to kick her, but he couldn't. He knew he was going off, but he couldn't do it. He had to stop himself.

He flipped the pool table instead. It was difficult, quite heavy, but with all his emotionally fueled energy, he managed it. It crashed to the floor, cracking tile and shaking the room. He took a deep breath once he was done, turning back to Doctor Karma.

"I thought you were different, you know. That maybe i loved you. But how can i love someone i don't even know? How can i be with a person that abandons me when shit gets tough? You're a terrible person, and so am i, but at least what i do does some good. All you're doing is lining your pockets with dirty money. And to think, you chose that over me." Lukas said, panting. He sauntered over to his mask, picking it up off the ground. Blake was still alive, and he didn't have time for this. Luke had already accepted Skyler had left him, her coming back to kill him didn't change anything.

"Go home, Skyler. I have work to do..... Unless, of course, you want to collect your bounty. Your knife's just there, if that's what you want."

Drifter stopped just as he reached the door, prepared to leave for good. Skyler's rebuttal stopped him though. It was some story about how she was really after Blake. Drifter couldn't believe it, he wouldn't. Everything she had done this far told him she wanted Drifter dead. This was a way to turn the tables, to pin the blaime on him. He was about to unleash a verbal fire storm. He had seen this type of manipulation too much to accept it, but that's when Skyler stabbed herself.

Drifter's eyes widened, his breathing speeding up almost instantly. His head was grinding, trying to process all the variables of the situation. He couldn't understand it, the pain was too much. Why? Why did....... Was it his fault? He could never get enough air, never enough. His legs shook nervously, eventually collapsing at the knees. He didn't immediately go to her, instead holding his head in what was apparently pain. He laughed, cried, and mumbled to himself, nerviously twitching.

"It's.....it's just a path. Just a street. Just-just a road i gotta go down, down the....the road. Keep on it........ You're gonna go far, son." Drifter said, his voice changing in pitch, and his tone changing from happy to sad on a dime. He couldn't handle it. There was too much to think of, too much to control. Was she telling the truth? Was she lying? Had she done this on purpose? Why would she kill herself if she had a daughter. Lies! Tricks! Plays!

Everyone was here, and nobody was. They all wanted his head, and nobody was his friend. It was like he had always thought. Nobody was on his side, and everyone wanted to hurt him. All his friends, all his family, the whole world. No matter how much he tried to keep the pieces together, no matter how much he obsessed over order, he would always fail.

"Need....need a helping hand? Yeah? No....no way. It's all you, kid. Just you, no one else. It's not your fault.....it's all your fault...... She's......she's just a knife. Just a dagger like um all, out to hurt ya." Lukas said. He was holding his head, rocking back and forth now. He felt like he was dying, shattering into a million pieces while simultaneously being put back together. No words could explain the thoughts that rolled through his head. It was all just too much.

"Not again. No. No games. I hate.......i hate games. Get away. I don't....i don't want any of you. GET AWAY!" Drifter yelled, pulling fracture and pointing it at Skyler's head. His hand shook, his mind raced, and his body quivered.

After a few seconds of contemplating, the unreasonable thoughts in his mind had won, and his finger pressed down on the trigger of his special handgun.

Drifter didn't want to shoot Skyler. He tried with all his might not to. He knew that there was a chance to save her still, and that shooting her would remove that chance from the equation. But, for only a moment, she was an anomaly. In Drifter's mind, she represented all that was wrong with his life. Every unfortunate situation, every fault put on him, every person that had wronged him. To live on, to stop this pain in his mind, he had to remove the anomaly. No matter what logic he used to reason with himself, the compulsion was stronger. She had to go in that moment, but not in the next..

She embraced him, and his nerves calmed. She had avoided his deadly shot, and thank God she did. The bullet would have killed even her, spiraling out into her body on impact and latching onto anything it could. Luckily that didn't happen though. Instead, the two weeped in each others arms. Lukas couldn't help but sob, the stress of the situation overcoming him. He held Skyler tightly, holding on for dear life.

"I'm........ I'm so sorry. I'm a freak.... I didn't.... I didn't mean to, Sky." Drifter said, only now pulling back for the woman. He wiped the tears from her face, taking in the sight of her. He couldn't find the words to how he felt, so he didn't say anything. They both understood, he knew it.

That's when Drifter heard footsteps down the hall, and knew it could only be one person. Lukas heard the click of a large weapon being carried, quite clumsily in fact. As soon as the realization hit him, Lukas was on his feet, and Blake was in the room.

Lukas raised his gauntlet, firing a single shot at the quite visible mag of the weapon. The idea was to both decommission the weapon, and cause it to explode. Unfortunately, Drifter likely wouldn't be able to achieve this before getting shot. He just hoped it hit him in his chest, instead of his head.