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yespolkadotkitty · 4 years

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Rainfall anon! Had a dream last night that sparked something Ezra in me. I love that you built Rainfall having a jigsaw emotional past as much as Ez. As somebody who has sleep problems, I can see Rain’s getting bad near the anniversary of something hard in her past. Maybe she self medicates. Maybe he’s supportive of that. And maybe for the anniversary he takes her to see something beautiful. My dream last night was a purple sky of northern lights.

Enough

(gif from Pinterest - if it’s yours and you’d rather I not use it please chime in!) Beta’d by the lovely @heatherbel Warnings: mentions of abandonment; mentions of nightmares

The closer it got to the anniversary, the thicker and faster the nightmares came - slicing into what was usually peaceful sleep, even more so since you’d been co-habiting with Ezra. He fitted into you like the missing part of your jigsaw.

That morning, one day before the anniversary, you woke to Ezra sitting up in your shared bed, brows creased, a storm in his dark chocolate eyes.

“Rainfall… you gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

You started to close in on yourself, as you always did around this time of year.

Last time Ezra had been off on an aurelac mission so you’d weathered the anniversary alone.

“It’s nothing,” you countered, half-expecting Ezra to accept this. Hadn’t all the men you'd known? Just got up and continued with their day?

But you’d forgotten how perceptive Ezra was. And how much he cared for you.

He turned, trailed the finger of his remaining hand along your hair. “I can’t help but feel you’re not being entirely candid with me, sweet girl. The screams I heard last night were not nothing.”

You looked into his eyes, miserably, then turned away to rummage in your bedside cabinet for the little bottle you kept there.

You waited for Ezra’s judgement as you took out a pill and chewed, but he only continued to gaze at you. You felt the weight of his warm, dark eyes.

“Go on, say it,” you baited him.

“Rainfall, I’m not sure what it is you’re angling for here, but if you’re self-medicating, then you’ve got a good reason for it. As to whether you want to share that with me, well, I surely hope you will, but it’s not in my nature to force.”

Your eyes burned. “Why can’t you just shout at me? Tell me to snap out of it?”

“Sweet girl, I will, if you think that’ll help.”

For Kevva’s sake, did he have to be so fucking reasonable?

You shoved your hands through your hair. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay.”

For a long moment you sat together, next to each other but somehow a planet apart. Ezra said nothing, just gently played with a wayward strand of your hair.

“It was my mother’s birthday,” you said eventually. “We’d saved all our points, my brother and me, to buy her a gift. Things had been hard between her and my father; he’d left the month before, but she was getting better. She was.”

Ezra nodded, silent.

“We went to the trading post together and we bought a gorgeous fan, for the hot nights. Something beautiful and frivolous. When we got home to give it to her, she’d gone. Just a note on the table with some money, enough for food for a while. We never saw her again.”

“Oh, Rainfall.”

And he pulled you into his embrace, and you went willingly, burying your face in the crook between his neck and his shoulder. He held you tightly, pressing kisses to your hair as you trembled against him.

“Wasn’t I enough? Why didn’t she stay?”

“Sweet girl, her up and leavin’ says more about her than you and your brother. You know that in your heart.”

The rumble of his voice under your ear calmed your heartbeat.

“Doesn’t make it hurt any less, though, and believe me, I know that,” he murmured, his arm banded tight around you.

“Sometimes I dream, Ezra, that you’ll leave on a trading trip or a supply run, and that you don’t come back,” you said into his chest. It was easier to admit that, easier to show your soft underbelly, when he wasn’t looking at you.

“Look at me.”

At length, you did, leaning up on your elbows to lift your head and meet his gaze.

“I made you a promise, Rainfall, that I’d be honest with you, always, and that I’d tell you if this no longer worked for me. For us. And that promise holds. Kevva knows I love you more’n I’ve ever loved another. And may She strike me down - I will always come home to you, as long as there’s breath in these lungs.”

And you leaned down and kissed him, and he held you tightly, almost to the point of pain, and he was everything you needed.

****

The next morning, Ezra asked you to get in the shuttle. He wouldn’t say where you were going, just asked you to dress warmly.

The excitement and strangeness of this unplanned trip took your mind off the anniversary of finding your mother gone. Of laying in her bed, your face in her pillow, breathing in her scent until it seemed you’d absorbed every last molecule.

“Are we nearly there?” You asked for the seventh time.

“Rainfall. Who knew what an impatient little soul you were?” Ezra chuckled. “If I were to tell you, that’d ruin the surprise, now, wouldn’t it?”

You slumped in your seat, pouting.

“I’m not immune to that pretty little pout, sweet girl, but the surprise will be all the sweeter if I keep it to myself.”

The journey seemed long, but finally Ezra set the shuttle down somewhere quiet. When he opened the hatch to the outdoors, he gestured. “You can take your helmet off, sweet thing.”

“Really?”

“It’s true.”

You released the catch and breathed in the crisp, damp air. You’d smelled this only once before, in a simulation of the long-gone Terra-1, or Earth as it was called back then. The simulation had included the crisp crunch of leaves underfoot, the hoots of a small, flying species called birds.

Ezra held out his arm and you put your hand in his, your gloved fingers tangling together.

The cold air hit you first, and then, when you looked up, you saw it.

The rainbow was enormous, filling ninety percent of the sky. Neon bright, the colours bled into each other as clouds drifted past them. The rainbow shimmered before your eyes, as if someone was waving the ethereal paper it lay on.

“It’s... beautiful.”

“Spied it once on my way back from a rather unpleasant job. Needed a break, so I stopped here, and the sight calmed me more’n a little.” He held you close, kissing your forehead. “From now on, on this day, we come here and we look at our rainbow, sweet girl. And we talk about our future. Enough of the past. It’s gone, but we’re here. Together.”

“Together,” you repeated, and snuggled into him, and it was more than you’d dreamed of; he was more than you’d dreamed of. More than enough.

Tagging the Pedro pals: @songsformonkeys @alwaysbethewest @beccaplaying @knittingqueen13 @agirllovespasta @thegreenkid @nelba @soldade @holographic-carmen @thirstworldproblems @lackofhonor @mstgsmy @buckstaposition @dornish-queen @gamingaquarius @mrschiltoncat @alldatalost @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @cryptkeepersoul @abuttoncalledsmalls @poenariuniverse @ezrasarm @pajamasecrets @mrsparknuts @a-seeker-of-imagination @keeper0fthestars @pedropascallion @f0rever15elf @jaime1110 @alienprincesspoop @chews-erotically @littlemissthistle @mourningbirds1 @kindablackenedsuperhero

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antics-pedantic · 4 years

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RALLY CO. #4: THE GATE TO WITHIN, PART 1

Dieter was getting on in years. He scrambled to open another bottle of some vigor or tonic promised to grant greater vitality. He went through these quickly—it had been a guilty pleasure of his to indulge in formulas for prolonged youth. But nothing could compare to his true goal: To return to the secret place he had begun his work in. A place on Earth, yet unlike it.

But here he found himself in hiding, at the Harbortown ports. It was not so long ago that he had been in Arcadia, Harbortown’s neighboring concrete jungle of art deco. And Dieter had yet more distance to travel. He had to get overseas, away from here. And after that, an even more tremendous distance the likes of which the world had never known.

“Bumbling oaf!”

Dieter cursed all the while: Money could buy him the strong arm of thugs. But these local toughs were too clumsy for him. Unforgivably so: He was far more forgiving of his creations. Mankind squandered its potential, where his creations only had the capacity to keep learning. And without complaint!

“Be careful with my shipment! One wrong move and everything will be ruined!”

“Cut us some slack, Prof!” wheezed a goon, as they and their gang carefully brought the wide crate down in front of Dieter. “This thing weighs a ton. What’d you get, a new fridge?”

“Hardly. Once it’s assembled we’ll be home free.”

The thing in the crate was an archaic archway. The goons were more than a little annoyed at this bout of admiring archaeological findings: They had been expecting something more obviously capable of helping them out of their present situation. That is, until Dieter had started to use his instruments to toy with the stones. The tracing of his instruments over the stones revealed etched grooves. Symbols patterned into each face of the archway’s stones rather than alphabetic characters. Patterns that Dieter had studied for some time now.

“Dieter Leistung…”

Even in his anger, the voice that Dr. Dieter Leistung heard now gave him chills. He turned to look in every direction. But could not pinpoint the source of the sound. Nor could his hired goons, who were getting to be on high alert. A prankster would hardly pose a threat to such a watchful bunch.

But this was no prankster. It was however, one of those times where misdirection made bedfellows of folks and foolishness: For the sting of .45 caliber bullets knocked away any melee weapon or firearm that might have been brandished.

“Justice finds you, Doctor.” the voice from no discernable direction continued.

“Impossible! Though I abandoned my work, I left no trail!” thundered Leistung.

The voice offered laughter. Mocking laughter.

“Think of me as the guilty conscience you thought yourself above having. Ever-watching, ever-judging.”

A fist lashed out to send one of Dieter Leistung’s men a couple of steps back. It wasn’t an immediate knockout. But it had them startled, ready to lash out at the first sign of another person close-by. It served to scatter them, despite their boasts to the darkness. If the shadows did not heed them, would they fare any better with their vigilante tormentor?

“An extra thousand to the man who can gut The Junker!”

Leistung set about introducing some chemicals and copper wiring to set points on the gate and activating a portable generator. All the while behind him, several of his thugs were knocked around, fighting with their phantom foe. They scored a few punches but only blindly so, never with consistency.

“I’ve got him!” one goon exclaimed, gesturing to a white scarf he’d grabbed. “Someone grab the tommy gun while I’ve got him all choked up!”

Another goon dived for the weapon that they’d been disarmed of earlier, preparing to fire. They caught the briefest glimpse of a raven-haired figure in an aviator’s jacket, the white scarf, and goggles. Goggles whose lenses gave off a light green glow. Even for the darkly colored ensemble, this hardly seemed a figure that should have been able to escape their sight. And yet he did, along with all the other senses.

“AUGH!”

A swift motion from two gloved hands locked the arm that had held the scarf. What few features of the mystery man that were visible only offered a minute displeasure at having his breathing briefly constricted. This prompted the goon with the tommy gun to cut loose, showering the area ahead with gunfire. The bullets stopped abruptly following two clicks: One of the submachine gun’s ammo drum being suddenly removed, and the second being as the goon reflexively continued to shoot. At least, until he was hit in the mouth with his own ammo drum.

The Junker loomed over this body, drawing his dual pistols once again to threaten Leistung. But the mad doctor was already going through the archway, as a shimmering effect occurred in the space beneath and between the stone archway that caused his disappearance, before the generator shorted out and damaged the arch.

But, that wasn’t to say the Junker lacked for an idea as to where Leistung was going. Junker did after all, recognize the patterns of the archway…

Elsewhere, world-renowned occult detective Solomon Callahan awoke from his slumber. He had recalled that he’d traveled to the markets of Morocco after some such artifact or trinket of interest. Perhaps inquire about any local issues with the paranormal, or other exceptional forces that might have been troubling folks. And he did so with the company of his students, all of whom drew closer and closer to being professionals under his guiding influence.

Almost all of them, at least. Solomon didn’t wish to dwell on that, at this moment where there was little he could do about the past. Not when he was needed here and now as a guide. To put forth all his learned skill as a mystic to use against the forces of evil, as was the trade of investigators and explorers—the noble adventurer.

“Monsieur Callahan, are you well?”

Where Solomon’s hair turned snow white from stress, Katrina Kafka’s hair was more of a silver, accented by her favorite red hairband. Her eyes and complexion were like the paled terror of one who appeared haunted. But in spite of that, the former Parisian inhabitant had traveled overseas with her mentor to stay with him while she honed her psychic abilities.

“I can’t hide much from you, can I dear?” chuckled Solomon.

But Katrina shook her head. “This is not being the most ideal state, let alone just before important actions are to be taken. And I know it is made worse, by hearing of the Junker.”

Solomon frowned.

“That vindicator is all the way back in Arcadia, stateside. I can only hope he’s not stirring the proverbial hornet’s nest.”

“Yes, but—”

Katrina meant to ask Solomon more about his ties to the mystery man, before there came a familiar pair of dueling voices: Returning to their shared hostel were two lively sorts: A tall, umber-skinned woman whose pockets were lined with a couple of test tubes, and her shorter companion who might have passed for an escaped orangutan with his messy reddish-brown head of hair and full side-burns about his round cheeks.

“And I say to ye again, Ez!” bellowed cryptozoologist Tycho Gallagher. “That ye be missin’ out on some mighty fine Turkish coffee. That ladle-thing set in the hot sand. Makes for a stronger drink than most sell it as such elsewhere.”

“And I say to you, my hirsute accomplice.” spat emininent bio-chemist Esmerelda “Ez” Broughton. “You may enjoy your deplorable bean waters without bringing me into it! Just as I was set to find fine fabrics with which I might set upon making my own fashions. Katrina dear, I’m so sorry that Tycho prevented me from finding a proper souvenir!”

“Th-that is quite alright, Esmerelda!” chuckled Katrina, nervously. “Might we perhaps resume our original goal first?”

“Yeah well, I don’t see much stock in it.” said Tycho, as he stuck a tongue out at Ez. “Shooing a lion from a movie theater was all the action I got to see. Nary a true disturbance by cryptid or any other manner of monster. I shoulda stayed back in Arcadia and continued at the university!”

“Indeed, save us the trouble.” Ez playfully jabbed, as was her custom with Tycho. The two were always friends beneath the taunting. “I for one, have done splendidly on my analysis and restoration of artifacts. Say, has anyone seen Felix?”

Felix Basra was a very serious Pakistani woman, in training since adolescence to become a detective like her aunt Malika, or Solomon. Versed in the martial arts, preferring the use of a hooked rod known as the jutte, perfect for catching blades and striking foes bluntly. And maybe, Felix also had taken to leadership well. For it was her efforts that brought together and now kept alive the adventuring alliance known as the Rally Company. She was following in the tradition Solomon and his colleagues had begun, righting wrongs and using specialized knowledge and skills to tackle strange situations.

And that included this one, in which she had personally set about finding back alley leads on the crime cult of the Golden Shadow. A supposed necromancer, but for certain a gangster of mystery. Felix specifically wanted revenge against the assassin that injured her aunt, forcing her out of investigative work. Felix owed this to her after Malika cared for her like Felix was her own daughter.

She deftly avoided the thrust of several daggers, their steel clanging against that of her jutte. The battle was back and forth for a time until finally not one, but two of her would-be slayers erred and got their blades caught on the hook of the jutte. A strong twist later, they were disarmed of their knives. The remainder sought to throw their blades, Felix just barely catching their glint in the light as she drew her revolver and fired. When the gunsmoke cleared, every cheap hitman in the room had been subdued.

“The Golden Shadow. Who are his most favored assassins?!” demanded Felix, huffing all the while from her exertion, as well as her anxiety over finding answers.

“We don’t know! They come and go so swiftly through our neutral grounds.”

“And outside of it?”

“Fool! Rival assassins are at each other’s throats all the time. Any who might know would never live to tell the tale.”

“Then why did your lot work so intently on those?”

The assassin turned: Nearby was a large set of large, lidded vases. And Felix pointed to them, seemingly for no reason.

“Have you gone mad?”

“When I walked in it was the only container with holes drilled into the lid.”

Just then, the container in question tipped over and was smashed open to reveal a fellow wearing a poncho over surplus military gear.

“You oaf…” grunted the assassin. “I can’t believe we paid him so much to come here—AGH!"

Felix shoved aside the assassin to address the foreign mercenary.

“The mercenary, Duke Luke, I presume?”

The man threw his poncho at Felix in the hopes it would give him the chance to get up to his feet. He lunged, trying to go for a pistol hidden under a desk. Felix dived for cover behind a sofa, revolver in hand. Duke Luke was at a disadvantage: He was afraid. If Felix hadn’t gotten such a workout from fighting off those assassins just now, she might have captured the mercenary by now.

“Give it up. Even if these killers weren’t writhing in pain, I’ve smashed your illusion.”

“The hell you have! I’m a soldier of fortune. I’ve fought in conflicts around the world!”

“Mm. And always lived to tell about it. You’re a smart little chicken, aren’t you?”

Duke Luke roared. He emerged from his hiding spot to fire. There were only a couple reports from his weapon, bullets drilling through the furniture Felix was behind as she gave off an anguished cry. Duke Luke’s laughter was boisterous, as he approached to confirm his kill. So boisterous that he almost missed the sound of Felix’s foot kicking the gun from his hand.

“Damn you! I’m going to make it out of here! They swore it!”

“Swear all you want, Duke. You’re going to tell me all about your time as an employee of the Golden Shadow.”

Felix finally had a lead. This was it! While the rest of Rally Co. had managed to find the artifact being smuggled, she had pressed the possibility that the Golden Shadow’s gang was behind this caper. She did have to wonder why Solomon was not as forthcoming with that information as he should have been though.

And then a velociraptor broke through a padlocked door.

Duke Luke screamed, Felix’s own vocal chords freezing in fear. She turned her gun to fire, grazing the beast. Duke Luke saw something in the room it emerged from, and sprinted towards it while Felix rolled out of the path of the raptor, adrenaline pushing her to avoid its tooth-and-nail attacks, as she received a few fresh cuts and some spots on her jacket were torn. Finally, Felix forced a chair into the jaw of the beast, before running into the room after Duke Luke.

And there stood the carved stones in an arch, not unlike the one she’d seen the Golden Shadow attempt to use not so long ago. Within the center of the arch was a shimmering light that also seemed to move like the surface of troubled waters. She could make out greens—even purples and other shades of jungle foliage along with craggy rocks and dimly lit tunnels. There she saw Duke Luke sprinting with no regard for his own safety.

The wooden chair Felix had used to stave off the velociraptor was broken to splinters. The dinosaur charged ahead at her, aiming to whip her with its tail. Felix dived to the side as the tail lashed upon the stone arch, with sufficient force to damage it as it stumbled through the portal just before it closed.

Felix would have to find the nearest payphone or teletype: The others had to get here immediately to examine this before it was too late. The trail couldn’t end here, and perhaps it was leading to something bigger.

#Rally Co.#Rally Co. 4 #Web Fiction #Antics-Pedantic

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fyeahwildfire · 5 years

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Before Among the Dead

Chapter 1

When you were young, you didn’t understand why your father had sent you away. You were taken in by the Shimada Clan. The head of the clan, Lord Shimada took in orphaned children as well as sold children. He made you go through brutal training in order to become one of his most lethal assassins.

He later revealed to that your father, who was a retired assassin, had sold you to him. This news did not sit well with you. You made a silent vow to confront him in the later future.

As time went by, you had befriended a young girl named Harumi, who sought to abandon the clan. One night, Harumi tried to encourage you to leave with her, but you refused and instead chose to stay. You begged her not to leave as you both knew what the punishment would be if they captured her. Not heeding your words, you watched as the only friend you had, climbed over the wall and escaped.

Harumi was later captured and branded as a traitor. You watched as your friend was executed before your eyes. You made silent vow to destroy the Shimada clan for what they had done.

When you were around fourteen, Lord Shimada instructed you to complete your first assassination. Coming out successful, you meet the rest of the clan by the docks.

There, Lord Shimada ordered you to execute a young girl who had also tried to escape. You looked into the girls eyes and only saw your friend Harumi. Her death weighted heavily on you and you hated the clan for what they did. You even swore to avenge her death, even if it meant your own demise. You used a kyoketsu-shoge to slash Lord Shimada’s face. Enraged, he ordered the clan to kill you. You fought and killed your former allies, until you fell into the bay severely wounded.

Shortly after, you recovered and sought out your biological father to ask him why he sold you. You found him surrounded by Shimada ninja assassins. Before they could killed your biological father, you had intervened by using the shadows to blend and kill the Shimada assassins.

Once you dispatched every single assassin, you announced yourself to be his biological accident of a daughter, Isabel. You questioned him and he confessed to selling you to the Shimada clan so that his debt with them could be paid.

He also confessed to being a manwhore and abandoning his other children. With a list of names, you promised to find your other siblings.

Before you left, you gave your father a final promise. That you would never intervene with his fate again. You disown him as your father and renounce your name. No longer named Isabel. You chose a name for yourself. Y/N.

Sometime later, you encounter a tall man with an athletic and muscular build. He had short, light brown hair and had striking light blue-eyes. He introduced himself to be Thomas Black. He had once served in the United States Marine Corps and was now a hunter and weapons dealer to the government.

Upon learning that you were an “orphan”. He took you to meet his wife Victoria and together they decided to take you in.

Not long after, they gain your trust and you confided in them. You told them you were sold to the Shimada clan and faced never ending abused. You even told them you were forced to become an assassin and revealed the scars littering all over your body. From that point on they decided to official adopt you.

Months later, your adoptive parents introduced you to two people Maseo and Tatsu. With both of them having knowledge about the Shimada assassins, your parents hoped the interaction with the three of you would help and ease the transition to a normal life.

After having several “therapy” session with them, Maseo believed the wounds that the Shimada clan inflicted on you, had stained your soul. He did not think you would ever recover.

However, his wife Tatsu believed differently. She stated, ““Everyone has a demon inside of them. The Dao De Jing recognizes the yin and the yang. The opposing forces inside all of us. The darkness. The light. The killer and the hero.”

She offered to train you in a much healthier way, while your parents incorporated schooling and activities, seeing as you were intellectual gifted.

Three years later, you are a junior Stanford student and are in a committed relationship with Ezekiel Reyes.

When your father found out he was displeased and didn’t think Ez was the right guy for you. He had invited him over to dinner as he wanted to know more about Ez and what his plans were for you. Your overprotective adoptive father spent the entire night interrogating Ez until he became uncomfortable.

Despite how dinner ended, Ez still loved you even if you had an overprotective father. In fact, he was not sure if there was anything about you that would make him not love you. He loved you since he first laid eyes on you. He loved you when he realized you were slightly touch starved.

Sure you didn’t exactly tell him about your whole life story, but maybe one day you would. He didn’t pressure you. All he knew was that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

Shortly after, you found out that your parents had been keeping a huge secret from you. Your father was not only a weapons dealer and hunter, he was a former professional hitman. He was highly respected and feared within the criminal underworld. He even had contacts such as the Mayans and the Sons of Anarchy.

During one of your family hunting trips, you confronted him about it. He revealed he left that life behind long ago, due to him falling in love with Victoria. He didn’t want his past life to interfere with your progress, so he never told you.

With secrets being revealed you told him about your other siblings and your desire to find them. He offered to help and you gave him the list of names.

2 Months later, you are attacked by members of the Triad, they sought revenge as your father denied them weapons. You were forced to defend yourself, so you took down as many of them as possible without getting hit. However, you weren’t alone a mysterious women intervened and helped you.

The women who helped you turned out to be an assassin named Nylah, she confessed to knowing who you were. She congratulated you on being the first successful Shimada assassin to escape their clan alive.

After getting a taste of your mental state, Nylah offered to take you under her wing and told you could learn to control the monster inside of you… if you find an outlet, such as being a vigilante. She proceed to give you a black leather suit along with a bow, arrows, and a sword.

Later, Nylah helped you track down and kill one of the main drug lords in San Francisco.

After this, the two of you tracked down your older half-sister Shado, who was living in a heavily drugged state with a man who kept her so high so he could use her for sex. Disgusted, you shot him with an arrow so he could never do this to another women again.

Saving your older half-sister Shado accelerated your plans, you quickly began your crusade as a vigilante, while helping her recover and become clean, much to Shado’s irritation.

After succeeding in helping Shado past the worst part of her addiction, you and Nylah trained her both mentally and physically to be able to face anything in her life.

After five months, Shado returned to her tribe in Santo Padre leaving you in San Francisco with your parents.

By day you attended Stanford and by night you fought injustice as a vigilante, all while maintaining a relationship with Ez Reyes.

During this time, your father Thomas had managed to locate your younger half-sister Rose, who was living in an orphanage with her older sister Lydia. With Victoria, they meet Rose and Lydia, they couldn’t find it in their hearts to leave either. So they moved forward with the adoption process.

Months later, Victoria had left to pick up Rose and Lydia from the orphanage, while you and your father stayed behind.

Your father had been reading the news about the Angel of Death vigilante, when you expressed on leaving to Santo Padre to visit Shado for holiday break. He was displeased with the idea, seeing as it was tradition to spend time with them and it was going to be Rose and Lydia’s first holiday as a family. With a promise to be in Santo Padre for a few days and return, your father accepted the compromise.

Christmas break, you visited Shado in Santo Padre. You found out she had been dating Ez’s brother Angel, who was part of a motorcycle club named Mayans. She had been so shocked to hear you were dating Ez for nearly a year, you hadn’t spoken of him since she had last seen you.

No matter, she enjoyed having you there even if it was for a couple of days. Aside from visiting your sister, you had other plans to follow up on the disappearance of the missing girls. It turned out their disappearance was linked to a drug cartel called the Salazar Cartel.

With Shado and Ez spending time with Angel you tracked down the missing girls before the party started. However, you weren’t the only one searching for those girls, it seemed the MC had been as well.

Caught in a Mexican-standoff, the MC and cartel guards didn’t expect to see a bunch of black roses falling from the ceiling. One of the guards prayed and told his companions that the Angel of Death was coming for them.

Soon right after, the lights shattered in the room. Chaos ensued after, the MC heard the panicked screams of the fleeing guards and girls co-mingle. One by one, the cartel soldiers were eviscerated.

Bishop, Taza, Riz, Creeper, Gilly, and Tranq saw a rush of movement in the shadows, felt more than seen. They had heard of the vigilante known as the Angel of Death, who warned her victims of their incoming deaths with a single black rose. She showed no mercy towards criminals who preyed on the weak and innocent. She instilled feared within the criminal underworld.

They heard the whistle of your sword coming through the air. Cries and screams followed. The cartel soldiers fired at the shadows and forced the MC to take cover. Taza and Riz took a bullet in the shoulder and leg.

Only one of the cartel soldiers remained, he stood by a nearby window allowing the thin trace of moonlight to hit him. He froze as he looked before him and saw his fallen allies.

Then after a moment, he saw the Angel of Death emerge into the moonlight, the way your shadow coalesced into a panther gliding from the dark to finish off its prey.

Bishop and Creeper watched with horror in their eyes, as the last remaining soldier begged for mercy. They both heard the shing of your sword being unsheathed. They saw your blade slice through his body as if it were barely there. The body fell in two pieces, splattering with blood. They dared not to move as the vigilante approached them, her steps soundless.

What had surprised them was you offered them aid, while helping the girls evacuate.

Before the police arrived the scene, you entered their cargo van and noticed the pale faces of Taza and Riz. You inspected their wounds and noticed the bullets were curare-laced bullets. You pulled out herbs from your utility belt and had Taza and Riz ingest them. You took off right after as you wanted to conceal your identity from them

#walking dead x reader #sons of anarchy x reader #mayans mc x reader #ez reyes x reader

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