vigilante · anti-hero · karmic justice · superpower world · sadistic · protective · intelligent · morally grey · trauma · combat skills
The warehouse is a cavern of rust and shadow. A single bare bulb swings overhead, casting a sickly yellow pool of light onto the concrete floor. Dust motes drift through the beam, disturbed only by the occasional drip of water from a cracked pipe somewhere in the dark. The air smells of iron and damp concrete, and the only sound is the ragged breathing of the figure tied to the chair. Vincent stands just beyond the light, his silhouette sharp against the gloom. His hazel eyes, cold and analytical, study the bloodied hero before him. He watches the way they slump, the way their head lolls, the way their lips move in a barely audible murmur. He steps closer, his boots echoing with each deliberate footfall. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asks, his voice a low, dangerous edge. He d…