Birds Of A Feather

Chapter 3: Darkness

"Let's take our positions," Bleeding Specter said briskly once we reached the warehouse. He pointed to a stack of crates in the corner, and we took cover behind them.

    Ebony Lynx glanced at Whisper and quietly asked, "Why have I never seen you around before?"

    The blonde scoffed. "One of my abilities is stealth. Why do you think?"

   "Hey," I cut in. "Can you two shut up?"

    Whisper winked in response. "Make me."

    I groaned softly, and Bleeding Specter admonished us, "This really isn't the time for flirting. We're on a mission. Act professional."

    "Killjoy," the gray-eyed girl muttered. I resisted the temptation to hit her in the side of the head with my gun.

The four of us waited in silence for Nightfall to enter the warehouse. When we heard approaching footsteps a few minutes later, Bleeding Specter wasted no time shooting our target in the leg with a tranquilizer dart. There was an audible thud as a body hit the floor.

I went to pull a pair of handcuffs out of my jacket's inner pocket, but before I could move, a smooth and deep male voice flared into my head.

"Hello, Oswald," the voice mocked. "Or do you prefer Nightbird when you're wearing that mask of yours?"

I tensed and reached for my pistol.

"There's so much angst in your head," the voice continued. "Keeping it all bottled up isn't healthy, you know. You should really see a therapist, kid."

Unwanted memories that I hadn't touched in years suddenly flashed through my mind—leaving my home in Ireland at the age of nine, seeing my father passed out on the floor for the first time, and most painfully, the face of my mother just before she abandoned us.

    I clenched my jaw and looked at my companions. As quietly as possible, I whispered, "He isn't down. The dart hit a decoy."

    Nightfall's mentally projected laugh was condescending. "You're a clever little pigeon, O'Malley."

    "Stop hiding, you bastard," I hissed, gripping the handle of my knife in a white-knuckled fist. Taking cover and speaking quietly were both more or less pointless, since he already knew we were here.

"Which one of us is really hiding?" he asked. "You try so hard to keep up a barrier, but I can see right through your little tough guy facade. You're just a kid who grew up too fast, and you're terrified of losing people you love. Understandable, really. You're afraid to trust anyone after all that you've had to go through at such a young age."

     "Stay where you are for now," I told my allies, clenching my jaw. I took a knuckleduster out of my utility belt and slipped it onto my left hand, then drew my gun out of its holster and ventured out from behind the safety of the crates. Nightfall was waiting for me near the entrance, wearing a totally black armored super-suit that had a hood, paired with a full-face helmet that had purple-tinted lenses.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel bad for you, kid," Nightfall told me. "At the same time, though, I'll have to take you down. Nothing personal, I just can't have you getting in the way of my plans."

     I groaned and spoke aloud. "Will you shut up already?"

     I stopped walking forwards when I was fifty feet away from him. The villain beckoned me to come closer, but I stood my ground. He sighed dramatically and started to close the distance himself. He was taller than me, maybe around six feet, and his eyes were invisible behind the tinted lenses of his helmet.