Alls Well That Ends Well

Those few weeks in my life were a time of great pain and confusion. To be painfully honest I am quite unclear of what actually occurred. If you can fill me in feel free. In an attempt to get to me a great mans life was sacrificed. How can one fight against such men when they are willing to stoop to such means? I know that we, more now than ever, need a hero but will he be accepted is my question. I've given my entire life to fighting so called bad guys. For this reason it is not a choice I can make. I need to believe that what I do is worth it. I know that for every criminal put in jail more will replace them. They need to know that I will put them in jail and when others take their place I will put them in jail as well. I don't mean just the common thief stealig to make a living, I send this message out to all. You are being watched. No matter how rich or powerful you may be evil men deserve harsh punishment. You will be found and you will be dealt with. You may take it upon yourself to destroy me. I will be waiting. I am fight for those that cannot protect themselves. I come winged in the night to deliver thy deserved retribution. I am every criminals worst fear. I AM NIGHTHAWK!

Briggham's Revenge

Colonel Briggham was a decorated military man who grew up in a generation unforgiving of being different. Sanford was different than most military officers, he had a secret one that he had kept all his life. Some evil men and one crazed amphibian figured his secret out and used it to destroy him. The last of these alive, Crock, took his life and tried to take mine just minutes ago. Now I am vaulting over rooftops in hot pursuit of my clawed friend. He will pay for what he has done. I've come to the end of the rooftops. There is nowhere left to go but a drop of several dozen stories. Crock passed the stairs in his hurry to evade me only to have run out of options. I see him leaning against a chimney, he has thrown down his weapon and has his hand out. "So here we are," he shouts and with that he attacks. We grapple with each other, each desperately seeking the upper hand, neither finding it. I have forced him to the edge of the building into the supports of the buildings abandoned long derelict water tower. They had they on top of skyscrapers in days gone by in order to help put out fires. This like many others has been left as a relic of the past, cheaper to abandon to decay than dispose of properly. King Crock's strength is unbelievable, he roars in frustration and then forced me into a rotting beam. I dodge a monstrous right hook that managed to tear a huge piece out of the support. Two quick punches to Crocks large snout send him reeling back and a swiftly executed kick to the chest sends Crock barreling into the support beams of the ancient water tower. A loud crack can be heard as the ancient structure destabilizes. Slowly but surely the tower begins to slide off of the top of the building. King Crock panic stricken desperately scrambles to free himself from the wreckage when his trademark overcoat suddenly goes taught. It has been caught on a protruding spike in one of the shattered support beams. "NO!!1!" A terrified look crosses King Crocks face and suddenly he is gone, the place where he stood is only occupied by dust and the sound of falling debris until that too falls quiet as the tower and its unlikely passenger has reached its final resting place. I stand in silence on the edge of the abyss and look into myself for a moment. I do not like what I see. Noticing the cops approaching I take flight with a quick shot of my trusty grappling gun I am swinging away into the depths of the city.

Death of a Hero

By the time I had showered and taken care of my numerous wounds the colonel had taken it upon himself to cook up some breakfast from the emergency stash left here. Potatoes, dried egg mix, a hell of a lot of hot sauce, and some defrosted OJ. Breakfast of champions here I come. It has been a tough couple of days for the NightHawk, I wouldn't expect much from me over the next few days unless something comes up that you need to know about. I bruised two of my ribs pretty badly unfortunately, I think it was probably when my body was passing through my wall from my kitchen into my living room. I will miss that place, Sanford, yes that's the Colonels first name, told me that shortly after he had dragged me out of the building multiple incendiary devices had ignited. He told me the blaze was burning white hot by the time he got me out of there. That's my security system, I smiled thinking of he hours I spent rigging everything, when that fire was out there would be no trace of my existence but also no evidence of the Mad Bomber. The matter of what to do about King Crock is still on my mind, his devious plans have threatened the people of this city before, I won't let it happen again. "Alright Sanford Briggham," I said, "This is where you make it all make sense for me. What's your part? Why are you here?" The colonel was a hardened man with a scar across his face from a campaign long past. He looked up with a grimace he had taken a a small piece of my granite counter top in his ass during one of the explosions. It pained him to sit down. "I am a patriot. I would never do the things you have accused me of, don't you believe me? I saved your life Nighthawk!" I stared right back at him, "How am I supposed to know yo didn't set up the entire situation for your own benefit to gain my trust." The colonel seems on the point of rage or tears at this point, it unclear to the casual observer. "There are things that I can't talk about because of who I am. I am an important man in the military one who carries respect with him. There are certain parts of my life that I cannot share with the world or my employers because I would be thrown out and outcast. Do you know what I'm talking about yet boy? These are evil men working to get to you. They have evidence i didn't think possible. I couldn't let it out. They were willing to blackmail me to get the explosives in a hope that they could get to you." A look of understanding passed between us, and then the colonels eyes seem to fill with shock. I wondered why he seemed to be almost smiling. Then the reality of the situation came crashing down, the colonels coffee mug exploded as he came tumbling down the the hole in the window indicating a sniper of high skill using a high powered silenced rifle. I fall with his body realizing by the second shot that the assailant was gunning for me now. As I fall I realize to myself what Briggham's smile meant; he had carried with him a secret for so long that he would do anything to keep it secret including treason, finally he had the courage to in his own way reveal his inner secret. God damn these people I think to myself as I roll behind a sturdy steel girder sliding my headgear on. Glancing around the corner, using advance lenses technology, I capture an glimpse of the shooter. That trench coat wearing King Crock is back and this time he wants to finish it. Ducking back just in time I feel bullets whiz by striking the refrigerator in the kitchen beyond me. Some kind of safe house this turned out to be, I think to myself. Sneaking out the back I climb a ladder up to the roof of my building. I fire a flare at Crock blinding him temporarily keeping him from taking his shot. Shooting a gas propelled grappling hook across the divide I swing toward him. The crock hunt is on.

For Every Action There is A Reaction

When I finally came to after the explosion with the worried Colonel's face hovering over me I realized the wounded King Crock must have slipped away in the confusion after the blast. I also realized what I had done to the Mad Bomber. I will not say that men haven’t died around me or due to my actions, no I will not say this. Many men have given there lives in foolish attempts to take me down. While I did act in self defense there most likely was a better way to have acted. I should have acted as a hero did and preserved this mans life, he cold have been rehabilitated. I could say all of that bullshit but I’m tired of it. These past few weeks have left me drained and beaten. All I ever wanted was to make it safer for someone who scared and alone walking home at night. I did it so they could have a little hope in there day. All of these schemes and criminals attempting to kill me for trying to stand up and fight back. Have the masses been down trodden for so long that they have forgotten how to be free, I am only one man and I did what I did for results. I could have incapacitated him and had him locked in the same high security prison he’s blown his way out of three times before this. There’s no stopping some people, some are just born bad is the lesson here I guess. I acted the way I did because I am tired of it all an to be honest I didn’t feel like chasing the same criminal on the exact same spree of destruction. Call me lazy, call me a criminal, call me a killer, I just don’t care anymore. I know the streets are safer today because of my actions.

The Mad Bomber!

The Mad Bomber stood framed in the door. With his combat mesh stocked full of different firearms, grenades, and explosive looking devices he struck a comical pose, "Did you miss me Hawky?" His eyes are hidden behind a dark pair of goggles that glow crimson. He cackles again and before I had time to react he had thrown a stun grenade my way. The concussive force of the explosion blew me through my kitchen wall. This is going to be hell explaining this to the insurance company I thought to myself as I land on my expensive coffee table shattering it into a thousand pieces. Great they're working together I thought as I heard them cackling away in the remnants of my kitchen. With an dept twist of my wrist I have in my hand a small capsule previously secreted up my sleeve away from harm. As I stood up they were coming at me again, I can't take the two of them I thought to myself. Flicking the small capsule in the direction of King Crock I am rewarded with his startled cry as the chemical agents within the capsule merge and begin to take action. Within moments he is doubled up on the floor in pain clawing at his face desperately. The Mad Bomber glances down at his fallen villain with little regard, tapping his protective eye-wear in a manner clearly indicating that they weren't just for style "I won't be that easy Hawkboy." He's goading me at this point, trying to get me to make the first move. He knows I'm tired for he's come in on the second half of a battle and I look it. Without warning he pounces a blade in one hand and a small black box in the other, I react without hesitation disarming him of his knife only to be rewarded by a painful crackle as I am thrown back a full yard. Damn taser I think to myself, the only thing technology is really doing is giving us more and better ways of hurting one another. "I just hit you with enough juice to take down a bull in heat, your finished hawk, your crime fighting days are over." I lie here waiting for my coming doom knowing only one thing that this madman doesn't know, I am a genius and he is not. It's not your normal everyday crime fighter that would build into his suit a grounding mechanism, essentially a lightning rob, in order to redistribute electrical stimuli; in this case electricity away from my body into the ground leaving my body a little stunned if not perfectly unharmed. I got heat and cold sensors built into this baby as well, when I'm wearing her I'm extremely hard to kill. At this point The Mad Bomber has retrieved his knife and is bending over me, "I am going to cut that suit up and blow you up from the inside, your finished hawky." With that I do several things at once. First I activate my suits ultra magnetic personal field pulling all of his grenade pins, extra bullets, and essentially any piece of metal not strapped down to him off of his body. Second I block his knife strike by breaking his arm in two places using my arms. Thirdly I use my legs to propel The Mad Bomber a good ten feet backwards in a tumbling heap and fourthly run the opposite direction fast. Fortunately for me all of these happen over a period of five seconds, unfortunately for me the Bomber employs three second fuses, I lose consciousness as every single one of The Mad Bomber's grenades explodes at the same time throwing me and the remains of my apartment in every which way.

BRAWL!

The fight lasted almost an hour destroying most of the house I had known these past years since I came to this city. I can still feel his claws digging into my back. Our battle had raged across my make-shift lab for nearly ten minutes with neither of us achieving the upper hand before I noticed his weakness. The difference in our facial structure while allowing for greater peripheral vision on his part allows for a slight blind spot whenever an opponent was directly in front of him. While he compensated fairly well by always moving that god damned giant head of his, I managed to take advantage of this blind spot by always dancing to the center of his line of sight. Two vicious and devastating blows to the side of his neck strain the powerful muscles restraining his muscle movement and thus improving my advantage. We were both tiring at this point, I knew Crock knew it too because his remarks and cocky demeanor have vanished leaving only silence. I could feel myself slowly starting to overwhelm King Crock as the fight progressed, all those nights of running along rooftops or dirty streets have definitely been worth it. I got overconfident at one point and felt the burning hot pain as the beast's claws ripped through my shirt and strafed my ribs. Suddenly the door to my house is blown apart, literally the entire frame is reduced to splinters of wood. A maniacal laugh can be heard, "Guess whose back!"

Henchmen Suck

Don't they ever get tired of taking a beating? IF there's one thing that I'm sick of its the constant cycle of defeating henchmen. No matter how many times they have failed before an evil villain will continue to send them again and again. It's as if they've never read a single comic book, don't they understand that no name nobodies have no chance against the super hero. I'm so sick of these amateur criminals. That was four of Crock's men who were banging down below; stupid fools were loudly trying to break into my neighbors apartment; couldn't even trouble to at least get the adress right. Being that I took them from behind three of them were incapacitated by the time the fourth spun around and shot at the air where I had just been standing. Before he know's it he is unconscious and I am out a window leaving my elderly neighbor to discover the four thugs bodies and call the police. The colonel is feeling better and says he is ready to go, either he's lying or he tough as nails, either way we both have to get out of here and now. I'm just going to run back up to my office and grab the file for this investigation, Can't start all over after how hot this trail has gotten. I'm halfway out of the room before my nose detects a foreign smell, something that was entirely out of place in my old house, and then I hear it. The voice is slimy and wet, "I knew you couldn't miss my particular stench George. Those men were just to distract you while I got here!" The hulking form of a crocodile slides out from his hiding place, the ancient oak dresser that had been a purchase of mine years ago. When I had bought it I never thought gigantic killer intelligent crocodiles would hide behind it. There's no getting out of this one I think to myself, I have to fight him now and be done with it. "What do you want crock?" I slowly edge to the right hoping to get to a place in the room where my back is not to the door; who knows when more of his men may show up. "Nothing. I just want you to stop doing that thing you do, Nighthawk." I smirk, "You know that's not going to happen crock!" Having made my way to the large desk I quickly hurl the heavy metal paper weight at my opponent, striking him in the head the four pound piece of steel makes his reel back. It's then when I hit him in the chest with a flying kick across the room propelling his massive frame back through the antique dresser shattering the large doors. "I wouldn't do that if I were you HAWK!" He screamed as he charged me across the room claws out with his black fangs bared.