In a small, modern office, a man sat, scowling. He looked up to see his subordiantes standing around him, looking scared. He snorted. They were just like a bunch of little children.
"Someone," he began, "has been killing of my boys who are watching over the alleys." Silence. No one wanted to cross him.
"So," he said, "what do you suppose we do about it? Who is this guy? What does he want?" One man stood up from where he was sitting. He looked at the mob boss.
"I have an idea," he said, "a mercenary. One who likes killing, who would like nothing more than fresh meat. He's called Overtkill. I think he'll be able to help..."
Church groaned, and slowly opened his eyes. Two figures stood over him, staring down. He raised a hand, realized he hadn't had time to shift back to human form before passing out from pure exhaustion.
"Okay..." one said, leaning down. He was black, with fluffy hair, "He's obviously awake. Caboose, get the crowbar in case he means killing."
"I don't-" Church began, than his chains lashed out, winding themselves around the crowbar in the one called Caboose's hand. Several others quickly bound Tucker and his friend, slamming them both agains the wall.
"Hey, hey hey," Tucker said, speaking quickly, "no need to get all crazy on us. We didn't do anything. Well, nothing that counted..."
"You tried to kill me," Church said, willing the chains to lift Tucker closer to him, "how the crap do you think I was going to respond? Say hello and give you freakin' cookies?!"
"N-n-no," Tucker stammered, idiotic grin stuck on his friend, "we just wanted to make sure you weren't going to hurt us or anything like that!"
Church retracted the chains, letting Tucker and Caboose fall to the floor. Then, he shifted. As the two bums stood up, they found him in his human form.
"What's up?" Church said, enjoying the confused looks on their faces. Tucker stepped forward, hands up. He looked nervous.
"Nothin', man... Just go back to you home or something... it doesn't matter to us."
Church nodded slowly, then turned and walked away. Tucker and Caboose watched his retreating back, expressions of relief on their faces. "That was some crazy stuff, dude," Tucker said to Caboose.
"Do you think it was... him?!"
"Al? No way, man, Al would never have attacked us with the chains."
"Sure looked like him."
Tex stepped out of the shower, put some clothes on quickly, then went out. The news was buzzing with the fact that Billy Kincaid's body had been found in the back alleys. Tex didn't particularly like the fact that it had been so close to her home.
And then the doorbell rang. Grimacing, she went to answer it, only to be completely suprised by who was standing there.
"Hi," Church said, "can I... umm... spend the night. My memory's still gone and I... yeah."
Overtkill surveyed the alleys with his robotic eyes. The cyborg took a few steps forward, eyes weary, ready to go to work.
He raised the chaingun he had for a hand and took several steps foward.
Church layed on the couch, staring at the TV, not really paying attention. He felt no guilt for killing Kincaid. The butthead had it coming.
But there was something else. Something similar to the time in the hospital. He felt things changing. But not in him, around him. The game board was being set, the players had plotted their strategys, and now, they began the game.
Where did that come from? He had been practicing shifting. It was easy enough, just focus on the things he could do while in his inhuman form, and he did it. Vice Versa with turning back. Soon, it was took just a thought.
And the power! Whenever he shifted, whenever the costume sprung, Church could feel the warm, tingling power flowing all over him. It was intoxicating, better than any drug or drink. Church couldn't get enough.
Tex had gone to bed earlier, which was easy. Conversation was too ackward. Church didn't know if she thought what had happened at the hospital was a dream or not, but something had allowed her to calm down...
Suddenly the news caught his attention. It had mentioned the alleys.
"And, a shootout is occuring right now at the Blood Gulch alleys, with a mysterious terrorist demanding information regarding the Billy Kincaid killing. Reports are unclear, but a News 2 helicopter is on the way, folks."
Church slapped his palm against his forhead. "I'm so stupid," he mumbled. Of course someone would react to him killing mob goons in the alleys. It was so predicatable.
He stood up quickly, and shifted. This time, he was suprised by a new addition. A crimson robe was now added to the ensemble.
Running, Church leaped through a window. Again. This was becoming a really bad reacurring theme, he thought, don't want to get arrested for breaking city property.
He launched the chains out, which anchored to a small steeple. He swung the length, then retracted the chains, his new cape spreading out to allow him to glide.
As Church took off, a figure melted out of the shadows of the steeple. O'Malley watched gleefully as Church headed toward the alleys.
"Go on, Spawn," he said, "keep playing into our hands... just like they always do. Except for Simmons, but he was different. Too different."
Church got there just in time.
Overtkill held a bum over his head, gun pointed at the unfortunate man's face. The man was shaking, and Overtkill clearly delighted in his torment.
"So, tell me, little man," he growled, "where's the guy who's been killing our boys?"
Church dropped down from his perch, landing behind the cyborg, cape billowing out around him. The nearby bums' eyes bugged out, clearly in terror. "Here I am," Church said, as Overtkill turned around.
The cyborg lashed out with a punch, which caught Church in the stomach, sending him into a wall. Stars filling his vision, Church didn't struggle much as Overtkill lifted him up.
"I hope you're just a fake," the cyborg sneered, "not somebody who kills in a mask and a crappy outfit." He then hurled Church threw several feet of plywood someone had stacked on the wall.
Church's vision was all mixed up. This was no ordinary thug. This was someone who could, and would, kill him without thinking.
Overtkill lifted him up for the killing blow. And that's were things started to work. Chains lashed out, wrapping around the cyborg's neck. While he struggled with that, the cape whipped around, it's tip wrapping around Overtkill's leg, and pulling back, sending him toppling.
While he fell, Church reached out and gripped an old pipe, which he smashed through the cyborg's robot eye. Overtkill screamed in pain and rage as they both hit the dirt, the pipe still sticking out of his eye.
Church hit the rubble just as the cyborg got to his feet, and lifted his chaingun. Glass-proof or not, Church was pretty sure enough bullets would kill him. He reached out with a hand, attempting to plead mercy...
And his hand slowly remolded itself like putty. Church and Overtkill watched in amazement as the arm reshaped itself... into a huge gun.
"Wow." was all Church could say before it let off a blast of pure darkness, creating what looked like a black hole on Overtkill's chest.
The cyborg screamed as he was torn apart, robot parts being ripped free and sucked into the hole, while his human body was mangled. Finally, the black hole gave out with a flash of darkness, and Overtkill's human side collapsed, while his broken robot enhancements clattered to the floor.
Silence rained for a few minutes, as Church pulled himself to his feet, and his cape and costume gathered around him. And then clapping broke out.
The mob boss and his friends walked leisurley to their limo. They expected to hear any moment Overtkill's report of a mission successful.
Yet, when they opened the door to the limo, a large group of broken cybernetic parts collapsed on the floor. Attached to one was a note:
Dear Esteemed Gangsters,
Stay out of alleys. Your goons where strike one. Overtkill was strike two. Srike three? I come to pay you a visit personally. Think about it.