↠ FALLEN ANGEL [Matt Murdock]

ONE ↠ FALLEN ANGEL

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CHAPTER ONE

My foot went flying towards his face, knocking him back several feet, into a murky puddle on the alleyway floor. The knife flew from his hand, glinting in the dull light. His groan of pain gave me a satisfying shiver of pleasure and I smirked at the man on the ground in front of me. I could feel myself nearing the darkness.

It was dark, a dim light coming from an apartment behind me was all that lit up the dingy alley. Giving me and eerie and more terrifying look. Making it easier to scare him into doing what I wanted. So far it was going well.

His lip was split and a bruise was already forming on his cheek. I had broken one of his arms and dislocated the other.

He had only got one punch on me but managed to cut me as I reached up, exposing my stomach, I'll need to fix that fault in my outfit later. He managed to get me in the one place my suit didn't cover. I was only just quick enough to stop him from gutting me but not quick enough to not get cut. I was slacking.

My suit consisted of black trainers, black leggings, a custom non-Newtonian STF bulletproof jumper-top. It was specially made for me, it fitted my body perfectly, it had extra layers for warmth and a hood. It was slash proof, meaning I couldn't get cut by knifes, and it was supposedly bullet proof. Across the back of the STF top, two beautiful wings were printed, which is where people get the name Fallen Angel. To top off the look I had a neck tube scarf, concealing my identity.

"So, we can either do this the easy way or the hard way." I crouched down in front of his shaking form and grabbed his collar. There was some slimy fluid on it and I resisted the urge to puke.

Ew.

"What do you want! I have nothing!" He yelled. He was frightened and wasn't trying to hide it. All of his body language gave him away, the shaking hands, the sweat dripping down his neck, the wide frantic eyes. I was enjoying this more than I probably should have been.

"You do. You have a bag full of drugs that you're dealing. And don't say you don't because I know who you are." I paused for dramatic effect, it was very obvious that he was a drug dealer for the fact that as I jumped down from the fire escape behind him I scared off a guy who he was not so discretely  passing white powder to. Idiot.

"I know who you are, Fernando Jacurez." His eyes widened.

It was written on his label on the inside of his faux leather jacket. It was literally written there. Who in hell writes their full name in their jacket?

"How do you know me?!" He shook.

"Doesn't matter. Now answer my question."

"What?"