Black Hood: Season Two - Nick Venom (popular e readers .TXT) 📗

a fist to the jaw, knocking her out. Her body slumped to the ground, being picked up by Hawkins and laid on the nearby couch.

“You sure I won’t be jailed for this?” Hawkins asked, rubbing her knuckles.

Croft shook his head. “The king ordered us to do this. And-” He looked at Hawkins. “-at the very least, being jailed is better than execution. However, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear your execution date after this mission’s over.” He joked.

Hawkins’ eyes widened as she panned from Croft’s serious face (that he used to hide his laughter) and Liliana’s sleeping face, her lower chin slightly bruised by the hard punch. “E-Executed?” She mumbled.

Croft approached her, resting an arm on her shoulder. “Calm down, it was a bad joke.” He turned away, taking his hand off her. “Let’s call the rest of the team and head to Ripley Park. It’s going to be a bloody massacre.”

***

“You’re Raide?” Spec questioned, the cheap cloak barely covering his eyes. “You’re the self-proclaimed Ruler of the Slums?”

“Self-proclaimed? I see that you underestimate me.” He glared at Spec. “You’re Black Hood, I can tell by your weapon. A double-ended scythe black as night with a red outline. Am I wrong?” He was mocking Spec at this point. “You defeated Wick, so you’re experienced in dealing with a Ruler of the Slums, but my strength far surpasses his. Don’t think a few punches will take me down.”

“Stronger than Wick; what a farce!” Rock retorted.

Raide ignored Rock, focusing his attention on Spec. “Take off your cloak and reveal your identity to me. Face me like a man.”

Spec stood silently, glaring at him. He brandished Deathstriker, pointing it at Raide. “God has looked down upon you. Death will be your fate.”

Raide smiled crazily. “Good, I’ve been itching for a real fight.” He charged forward, brandishing his fists. He closed the distance between them in an instant, throwing a punch. Spec raised Deathstriker, his scythe taking the blow. The energy behind Raide’s punch blew Spec back a few feet.

“Good, you don’t crumble under a blow. Now-” He licked his lips before smiling an ecstatic smile. “-let’s see how many more you can take.”

Raide sprinted and slammed his fist into Spec’s body, nicking his weapon. This punch forced blood to leave Spec from his mouth, splattering on the ground.

Spec waved back-and-forth slightly before regaining control over himself, taking a few steps backward. He gripped Deathstriker tightly before closing the distance between him and Raide. 

Once close enough, he threw the scythe at him. Raide dodged the scythe, watching as it nicked his ear and landed behind him. “He… threw his weapon?” He questioned, not truly understanding Spec’s reasoning. Even so, he didn’t care. He now felt like he was at an advantage. Raide turned back to face Spec, throwing a punch. Spec dodged the punch, sliding in between his legs and grabbing Deathstriker from behind him.

Spec glared at Raide, who turned around to face him. “Slick aren’t ya’?” Raide asked.

He didn’t speak a word, twirling his scythe before launching it at Raide. Raide dodged this attack easier than the first one, his not-bleeding ear remaining non-bloody. A dagger nicked his left ear, coming from Rock. She stood defiantly, holding her circular weapon in one hand and a dagger in the other. “Boys always underestimate me, but you really shouldn’t have.” She remarked.

The Holy Grail team arrived on the scene, made of seven individuals. Croft Baxter led them into battle, holding his trusty sword. He glanced up at the nearby rooftops at Kaye, who held a bow. He nodded at her and she returned the offer.

“Surround him and assist the assassins.” He declared, brandishing another weapon from his pocket; a prototype revolver. This revolver had been scavenged after Spec’s fight with Wick, found on the grass surrounding the building they stood on. “Spencer, provide magic attacks! Everybody else, focus on denting his health!” He ordered. The team moved together to provide Spec assistance. 

Meanwhile, Spec faced Raide head-on, slicing at his skin. Raide covered his vital organs from the slices, being punctured on his arms and legs. However, Spec’s slashes weren’t enough to put the beast down. Instead, he grabbed Spec’s scythe---taking a few moments to watch Spec’s movements beforehand---before reaching for it and ripping it out of his grip. He threw the weapon to the side, grinning as he did so.

“Now unarmed, what could you do?” He asked, his figure seemingly towering over Spec. He grabbed Spec easily and raised him in the air before slamming him into the ground. The slam knocked out all of the wind from Spec, left curled up, gasping for air. Raide laughed loudly to himself, pleased with his efforts. He crouched down, glancing at the frozen stiff Holy Grail team and Rock. 

Kaye, hit him! Croft wanted to shout. However, his body tensed up, his limbs stiff and mouth glued shut. I’m sorry, Spec. He failed his mission. In a few seconds, the identity of Black Hood would be exposed.

“Let’s see who is under the cloak, posing as a hero?” Raide asked as he took the cloak’s hood off and revealed a badly wounded Spec. “Oh, I… I recognize you. Wick visited you often before his death.” He facepalmed himself. “Why didn’t I connect the dots? I guess that female assassin is right, I am more brawn than brains.” 

He glanced at everybody, stiff in place. “Oh, well.” He muttered before standing up. “Spec Aiken, the son of Roy and Liyah. Oh, how tasty she was.”

Chills went through Croft’s body. He killed Spec’s mother. He… He raped her? He couldn’t think about anything besides that. Raide’s presence had glued him in place, unable to help Spec. 

Rock’s eyes widened as the truth was exposed. She had no part in Liyah’s death, but she had learned and concealed the cause of her death from Spec. She didn’t want him to know the truth and be blissfully ignorant. However, Raide ruined it.

“She was a fun toy to play with. She kept crying, saying stuff like ‘stop’, ‘no’, ‘don’t touch me’. She was annoying in that degree, but her body-” He licked his lips, staring deeply into Spec’s shaken eyes. “-it was too good to be true. However, all good things come to an end.” He smiled menacingly, chuckling to himself. “Don’t worry about burying her, I already encased her in fifteen feet of water and trash. It was… a few years ago, so there are only a few bones left. If you want, I could take you to her.”

Spec’s body trembled. He figured she was dead, but never believed in the rumors of her being a man’s toy to play with before being disposed of. It sickened him to his core.

Croft moved his eyes to the best of his ability, staring at Kaye. He tried his best to nod, restricted by Raide’s menacing aura, but it was enough for Kaye to nod back. She stood up, breaking her stiffness, and drew her bow. She launched a poison-laced arrow at him. Raide, who had been whispering awful nothings into Spec’s ears, didn’t notice the arrow until it was too late. It hit his shoulder, embedding itself into him.

He looked up at Kaye, shooting her a glare. “Damn archers. I thought you were frozen.” He muttered before reaching for Deathstriker.

Please grab it! Croft thought. His team was in charge of collecting the revolver and other artifacts but wasn’t able to grab Deathstriker with their hands. It killed the guy who touched it, burning him to a crisp. Instead, they were forced to use sheets of metal to sweep the scythe into a metal box before hauling it to the castle.

Raide grabbed the scythe, feeling intense pain circulating through his body. Deathstriker could only be handled by the user and not any normal person. It would kill them instantly.

However, the pain and the heat it brought to him weren't enough to kill him. He gripped the scythe tightly, the heat and pain rushing to overtake him, and launched it at Kaye. The attack was slowed down by the pain surging through Raide but it barely missed Kaye. She ducked, hearing the scythe tear through the front barrier of the rooftop before landing behind her.

Spec felt the same pain coursing through his body. However, this pain was different. It hurt at first but began weakening in intensity. It began to flow as normally as blood does.

“W-What?” He croaked as he looked around. Raide had disappeared. He glanced around and noticed that nobody was around him. He looked down and saw that he was laying on concrete and not grass and that his wounds weren’t wounds; they were healed. “Where-” his voice was slowly coming back to him as his lungs refilled with gracious air. “-am I?”

“Deathstriker’s Skyscraper!” A voice boomed behind him. Spec stood up, turning to face the mysterious voice. Behind him now stood a man dressed in an extra-large cloak that covered his body and head. He was nothing more than a talking cloak.

“Who are you?” Spec asked.

“I am Retribution, the God of Vengeance. I am the creator of the Deathstriker.” The cloak declared.

“You created… You created Deathstriker?” Spec asked. “And you said you’re a god, so you must’ve been looking over me, right?”

“Correct-” Retribution started. “I’ve been looking over your family since the first Deathstriker user, Ripley Aiken.”

“Then-” Spec began getting angry. “-you could’ve saved my parents! My father, mother, and elder brother could still be alive right now!” 

Retribution shook his head (if he had one since Spec could only see the cloak’s hood move). “I am a god, but I’m not omnipotent. I can only train and assist you once you become a user, but using my powers to affect the mortal realm and interfere with mortal problems is outlaw by the other gods.”

“You could only train us once… once I’ve been a user for over five years? And this is the first time you appeared? Shouldn’t you have been helping since day one?”

Retribution nodded (again, only the cloak’s hood could be seen moving) before turning away. “You’re right. I meant to begin your training, but something came up. A rebellion began in the God Realm and I was asked to put it down.”

“That’s why-” Spec’s voice cracked as a tear began to form in his right eye. “Every day has been hell for me and I’ve trained to protect my sister; my only blood relative left!”

“I understand, that is why I apologize for everything. However, that’ll have to be shelved for the moment. Raide Sartori, the new Ruler of the Slums, intends on eliminating you and your friends. Currently, you lack the training--which is my fault---to defeat him. Even so, there is one thing you could do to stop him.”

“What?”

Retribution turned around to face him. “Channel the mana that’s resting in your body and pour it into Deathstriker. It’ll activate its ultimate power, Deathstriker’s Vengeance mode.”

“But I don’t have Deathstriker. Raide threw it away from me.” Spec told him.

“Indeed, but he hasn’t destroyed it. Grab the weapon and complete the instructions I gave you. You’ll be able to destroy Raide with ease.”

“Fine,” Spec remarked, staring down at the floor. Retribution didn’t have feet, hovering over the cement. “Once I’m done, you will have to train me. I need to be strong enough to defeat future threats.”

“You have my promise.”

“Good.”

“Now, you’ll be returned to your body. Get Deathstriker and kill Raide.” Retribution ordered him, a small blue light exposed from under the hood. It was shaped like a pupil. “Now!”

Spec nodded, closing his eyes as his mind reverted to normal. He felt nothing change as he returned to where he was. When he opened his eyes, he was laying on a patch of grass, staring up at an angered Raide.

He checked his wounds and noticed that they were healed. His oxygen returned to him, taking in a few deep breaths before jumping up. This surprised Raide, who had his back turned on him. He staggered a few steps backward, his mouth wide open. “How are