ALL NOVEL Chapter 35: Haunt
Chapter 35: Haunt
SoHo, New York
Cole Stephens
System message: Persona acclimation beginning….
System message: Foundational Persona completed.
System message: Secondary Persona has been confirmed. Host, please stand by.
His second persona's acclimation hadn’t finished.
It was a good thing that he had a distraction.
Cole brushed the prompt out of the way and focused on the newest location, Mabel. He understood the mission parameters were vague, each choice having multiple avenues of completion out of his three options; only one seemed the easier.
The Hero choice could have been made with a phone call; Mabel was undoubtedly being sought after with her escape.
From his observation, Stokes hadn’t stumbled across Purpleman but had requested the man. It was a problem; later, he turned on them and began controlling the game. The question was, why?
He squatted across from the house, watching the figures moving around erratically inside the house. Mable was arguing with her daughter, the councilwoman Stokes.
Cole hadn’t changed his appearance outside of his tattered wardrobe. He had remained under the guise of Todd. He did not want Red Hood to be associated with last night's incident.
He adorned the pitched domino mask secured to his face and a hoodie, further confirming his profile.
Host-Generated Mission: Stokes Crime Syndicate has erred in crossing the path of The Red Hood.
Choice-Hero: Procure evidence and hand over the damming information to relevant authorities. Reward(s): Hero alignment percentage increase. + Axe, Bright Marshall
Choice-Neutral: Tread lightly and discover what is causing the increase in gang-related violence. Reward(s): Neutral alignment percentage increase + Yautja—Wrist Gauntlet
Choice-Villain: Take the law into your uncaring hands and Annihilate the Stokes Crime Syndicate Leadership. Reward(s): Villain alignment percentage dramatically increases. Star Trek—Combadge
He had initially wanted to apprehend her. But what would he do with her next? Turn her over to the NYPD, knowing she would return to the streets in an hour. He didn’t quite like that route; reward aside, he didn’t care for gangsters.
While he contemplated on the future of one of Harlem's most notorious crime bosses, his lithe, cloaked figure dropped through an opening in the roof of the warehouse.
‘Hmmm.’ He pondered.
He was intrigued about why would Stoke crime boss be in a place like this
‘Color me surprised.’ Cole thought.
He cocked his head, his ever-present enhanced senses absorbing noise pollution, audible and inaudible.
A goon turned the corner, his high-powered flashlight flashing across where Cole was moments ago.
“I hate this part of the job. Why have we got to patrol like mall cops?” He groaned out in a pronounced Russian accent.
The open space, sparsely packed warehouse hired goons, a wanted crime boss risked exposure and came here. ‘If I were a betting man, I’d bet on something untold here that has Stokes Crime Syndicate.’ He thought, paused as he descended from the rafters atop the Russian goon.
Cole hadn't had to wait long before he received the prompt.
System message: Russian Bruiser incapacitated. Rewards: +Heroic alignment. $360
Cole dashed toward the sound of the voice, once again Russian. He began to have a horrible sense of forebode as he approached the sound.
He crossed the warehouse with relative ease; he had been quiet, but the woman handcuffed against one of the pillars let loose a muffled scream when she spotted his sulking figure.
“Shut up bitch.” The goon barked, who had been guarding her.
Cole rolled across the floor, dodging the sweeping light of another hired goon investigating the sound; both were on alert and bringing their flashlights across the area, guns raised. He hid behind a crate, his hand tapped his utility belt, and he removed a couple of Batarang.
Cole leaped over the crate, feet connecting with the unsuspecting mobster. He rolled across the ground and sent two Batarangs slicing across the distance and taking the man in the hand, knocking the gun from his hand. He sped forward and dismantled the two mobsters with ease.
The woman's eyes enlarged as she took in his masked figure. He had removed his Jason Todd disguise, so his appearance was unexpected. He raised a black-gloved hand and pressed it against his mouth in a silent gesture.
Cole dragged the two unconscious bottles away, not before applying zip ties to their arms and feet.
The boas drones had already circled the warehouse, mapping and tagging every heat signature.
He had suspected, but now he had proof. This was a drop location for a human trafficking ring.
"Who are you?" The woman asked, twisting around to regard him with suspicion.
"I'm someone here to help you.” He whispered, moving closer to her to inspect her binding.
“Another vigilante? Are you with Daredevil?” She questioned.
He felt his rage boil at the mention of the man that had caused his parent's death, but he smothered it as quickly as it came.
“Hush!” He said coldly as he sliced her binding, letting the woman fall to the floor.
"I’m Kristy Watson.” She said breathlessly. “Channel Six, I was kidnapped earlier today when I discovered the human trafficking ring operating here.”
He did a double-take.
She did look like that news reporter. He recalled a memory from his previous life. Daredevil is supposed to have saved her…
“That explains your attitude and questions.” He gestured her forward, hiding behind a stack of crates.
“I’m sorry. Did Daredevil send you? I was investigating Human trafficking and had managed to get in contact with him.” She whispered, peeping over the crate with me.
I turned and regarded her, regretting freeing her at the very moment. Something about working with that despicable man irks me to the soul.
Ignoring her, I began to collect further data with my boas drones, each of them hovering close to pick up conversations.
“I trusted him.” She said dejectedly.
“You’re a fool to trust that backstabbing man,” I said heatedly.
She regarded me, her eyes squinting, sensing a story, but her humanity had prevailed. “Listen. I’m not the only one here. There is a group of women and children in an underground dungeon.”
He nodded, having already discovered the heat signatures. “ I’m here for Mable, but I despise human traffickers and criminals inside this building," I told her, motioning to the establishment.
He reached behind as if removing something from his waist and handed her a gun. Her face paled, but he stared into her eyes.
“For your protection!” he stated.
“Are you going to kill people? I don’t think that’s smart.” She whispered, holding the gun properly. I nodded; she at least did know that much
He didn’t respond. The gun was for her protection; if she needed to protect herself, which meant life, then she would be wise to end that person's life, especially these evil men.
“I will free the captives. You will lead them outside. Can you do that much?” I asked.
"Don't kill anyone."She pleaded to my departing figure.
I dashed across the warehouse, aware of the mobster's location. His hand snaked out, grabbing hold of the mobster walking past. The man struggled before he slumped in his arms, rendered unconscious.
Cole had made his way through the warehouse, defeating each mobster with relative ease. He had discovered where the captives were kept and was glad most were in relatively good health.
Cole motioned with his hand. Before repeating the gesture, a teenager stood and walked over to him. Cole's eyes rose when he recognized her. She went to Midtown High.
He stepped toward her. “I’m here to help. Can you get them moving?” He asked, once again offering a weapon. He believes in an armed populace, at least in this universe.
System message: Error….
He halted in his steps at the prompt. Error? What had happened? What couldn’t occur that the system couldn’t solve? He thought. He was getting slightly afraid at the prompt.
“You stupid woman, you bring trouble our way.” The Russian mobster sneered. Cole hadn't dawdled but moved effortlessly through the warehouse, disabling the mobsters.
Cole had moved closer, discovering his prey inside an office arguing with another man; fear waffled off her in waves.
Russian mafia, indeed. He noted the two prominent figures, both armed with countless weapons. One man had long platinum blonde hair; his heat signature was beyond the others, almost unnaturally, and he stood looser than his counterpart, who had a more sedate stance.
These two weren’t your typical mobsters; he became alert, not wanting a similar issue to play out, like the one with The Purpleman.
“I came to warn you. We can’t continue this operation; that damn purple mutant you sent us has exposed everything.” She fired back, standing from his seat, causing the apparent leader goons to move forward, hand easing toward their waistband.
He leaned forward, face a mask of fury as she breathed in and out before scoffing and leaning back; the two stared at each other.
Cole listened intently, the conversation leading him to multilayered conspiracies. One was the production of a new drug dubbed Steel Serpent; the name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place where he heard it from. Second was the Stokes Syndicate's uptick in crime, which wasn’t poor leadership as he theorized but an organization outgrowing its roots and its unsavory toe dipping into human trafficking.
He leaned back, his H.U.D. positively identifying the Russian Mobster on the most wanted list, A man who had worked with and for numerous criminal kingpins, namely The Hand and Wilson Fisk.
Anatoly Ranskahov is a leader of the Russian Mafia in New York City alongside his brother Vladimir.
Cole has contemplated his current situation long enough. He had to be able to branch out. He hadn't wanted to dabble much into other sectors, meaning he wanted Origin stories to remain intact. Unfortunately, this Earth, whatever number or name it was, wasn’t the one he read and none of the most popular.
He sent out two messages, messages that would unknowingly alter this universe's predestined path forward. Cole had become the Catalyst, and now he stepped into the role of the Fulcrum.
Bullseye: I want access to the Serums.
Red Hood: I have the Centipede Serum prepared. I recommend waiting for the doctor to design the Super Soldier Serum that made Captain America.
Bullseye: Now we’re talking. Grant me power, and I’ll be your guy as long as you don’t stand in my way and become all holy about killing.
Red Hood: Do as directed. Life and death of those that stand in your way doesn’t concern me.
Bullseye: Deal. I want more toys. Maybe a suit like yours. Hehehe.
We got a deal, Pointdexter—my ability roiling up from his admittance
Angelica hadn't responded, but it was expected. She still refused to help actively. He sighed and stood. He reached for his glasses and removed them.
Cole had no time to react when everything blurred, and the prompts appeared before him. He groaned, realizing the new persona acclimation might been better to experience at home and not being a hero.
System message: Haunt Persona is a multilayered being….
System message: Fixing issue….
Anatoly stood addressing Mabel. “We shipped now,” his hands pressing against the desk. “Deal remains on the table, comrade.”
Mabel sighed but hadn’t argued. She was spooked after the mind control incident, but the tough-as-nails crime boss hadn't taken a moment to relax, reacting to her situation as usual.
The two mobsters froze when a wailing sound pierced their eardrums from outside, rattling the walls and causing their hindbrains to order them to flee.
System message: Daniel Kilgore- Priest - Haunt 5%|50%
Kurt Kilgore- Special Agent - Haunt 5%|50% Installing ….
Cole dropped to the cold ground and began to convulse—a white substance started to seep from his mouth, ears, and eyes.
