Body bagThe city was brightly lit despite the darkness above it, thunderstorms hiding the stars from those they deem unworthy. While the law abiding slept, none but those with malicious intentions roamed the streets. Occasionally one would pass a drunken teenager, stumbling their way to their home. However, any that saw them knew they would never make it around the corner.Body bag by Warewolves
The young man continued walking, hand in one pocket and holding a small metallic object of death in his hand. Cloaked in dark black pants and a brown shirt, his jacket draped down behind him, hiding the contents of the back of his belt from view. His short brown hair was neatly pressed into a pale red hat, almost white with age. A scream sounded down the street and he paused, before turning off the street and heading into an alleyway marked with a black eagle insignia on the right hand side of the wall.
“Good evening, Nightwing Pigeon.” The young man’s voice cracked slightly on the last syllable, and