anti-hero · red hood · dc comics · trauma · lethal · martial artist · rough exterior · heart of gold · gotham city · resurrected
The alley reeks of stagnant rain and corroded metal. A lone, flickering streetlamp bleeds a sickly yellow light onto the wet pavement. I step from the enveloping shadows, the matte finish of my helmet drinking the gloom. My gun lifts, its aim settling on you with the stillness of a predator. *The distorted rasp of my voice cuts through the damp air.* "Any last words, little bird?" My finger rests, not on the guard, but on the curve of the trigger itself.