Blurry Vision ∷ Daredevil; Matthew Murdock

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Chapter 9

I stare up, absolutely horrified, what the hell?! How does he know where I live?

"Frank, what the.... HOW the..." I mutter as I struggle to close the door, but I spot my pistol on the edge table a few feet in front of me.

I reach my hand out but it's just slightly out of reach, either get the gun and let him in, or stand here, unarmed, until he kicks the door down. Yeah I'm getting the gun.

I jump forward, which is followed by the door being flung open, completely breaking the chain.

Before I can cock it, I'm being pulled away by my waist and pushed into my stair case.

"I'll make this short, you're in danger." He says while locking my door and walking over to me, rather calmly.

"No shit, you're in my house." I mumble, pushing myself back up, while minding my practically useless leg.

He laughs and as he take another step towards me, I take some steps backwards until my back brushes the wall.

"You got the paper talking about the mob and stuff?" He asks and I nod my head slightly.

"You get involved, you'll die." He informs me making me laugh slightly.

"And what is stopping me from spilling you onto the floor right here?" I ask, making him smile and look to the door.

"Your neighbors seem nice. Old woman, single mother, brother and sister, oh and the devil."

My eyes widen and can't help but laugh, "That's ridiculous."

"Doll, I thought you were smarter then that."

"Stop calling me doll." I say slightly irked.

He moves across the room, back to me, looking around, "You didn't give me a name."

"So why do you care if I die or not?" I ask curiously, changing the subject.

Matthew Murdock and Frank Castle... I wonder if Frank knows that's who the Devil is. I wonder if that's how he found me and my house.

OH GREAT! So both FRANK CASTLE and the fucking DEVIL OF HELL'S KITCHEN know where I LIVE!

"Because now you owe me a favor." He says like he save my life or something.

"Frank, I'm going to be very honest here, I don't care if I die. No one really cares about me. So I'm just going to go out on a limb and ask if that favor would involve getting the Devil off of your back, because you seem very bothered by him." I say making him raise an eyebrow curiously.

"See, doll, I knew you were smart." He picks up my other gun, examining it, making my stomach churn uneasily.

"Yeah this is about all I can handle, Frank, get out. Go deal with the Devil yourself. Kill him, send him to China, hand him over to the mob, somehow convince him to join SHIELD- I really don't care; don't involve me." I say sternly while taking careful steps towards him, thumbing at the hammer lightly. But would I care if Matt- the Devil died? I don't know him. It's not my problem who Frank kills...

He turns around, waving his hand as if he is pushing my comment away, "That's not how you repay a debt is it?"

"I don't have a debt to 'repay' to you, Frank." I say coldly.

"I could have easily killed you on the roof." He says making me laugh.

"You sprayed a round of bullets at me."

"You shot me as well."

I cross my arms, "You were wearing Kevlar."

"You had basically bullet proof armor." He mimics my actions, making me irritated.

"What is stopping me from calling the cops? Because I would love to call the cops right about now." I ask curiously.

He looks away before sighing, "Doll, don't make this get ugly."

I cock my gun and he does the same, "Ugly happened the second you stepped inside."

He laughs at that, but he aims the gun at my head, and I aim it at his chest.

"I really don't want to do this." He says, while readjusting his grip on the pistol.

"That's funny," I muse slightly, "Because I really do."

He pulls the trigger, but nothing but an click of a missing pin sounds through the apartment. And the look he gave me could kill an entire army.

"Stole my trick, Doll?" He says through clenched teeth.

"You really think I would leave two loaded guns that are ready to be used out in the open? I'm insane, not stupid." I say while keeping my gun in the air while moving across the room towards my cell phone.

"Don't call the cops." He says in a half pleading and half threatening tone.

"Well now that you asked so nicely." I say sarcastically while picking it up and keeping my finger hovered above the last digit of 911.

I carefully take the cartridge out and slide it across the floor, away from us both, "Just talk."

He gives me an amused look before taking a step towards me, and I take a step away from him.

"Scared?" He asks curiously.

I lick the dryness off my lips, "Something like that."

"Yeah, that's the problem about you masks. You just hide behind them, and once you take them off, you're nothing tough." He says, making me angry.

"Don't call me that. I'm not like them." I growl.

"Oh? You don't prance around behind that little mask, pretending to be a hero, saving people, killing others, then you come back here, take it off, pretend none of that happened? Of course not, Doll."

"I'm not a hero. I don't want to be a hero. I wear that mask because it hides my breath and it is made of vibranium and protects my face. I'm a marksman, not a hero. I'm a couple of steps to becoming a mercenary if I didn't have SHIELD. Never will I become a 'hero' or better called vigilantes. I despise them. They think their all high and mighty, they think that what they do is more important, what they do 'saves lives'. I think all of that is bullcrap. But what I know is you just paused for a couple of minutes, you could find a way to do what you do legally."

That last part catches attention because his eyes widen slightly, "You trying to help me kill people?"

I grimace slightly, "Not randomly. You won't get to chose, but you'll kill bastards that deserve it."

He scratches at his chin while nodding his head, "This is oddly unexpected."

My ears start to pick up the sound of footsteps moving across the roof.

"Fuck." I mutter while throwing my phone down and sliding across the floor to a chest. I'm serious when I say slide, I mean like baseball slide. It works better than walking or running on my useless leg.

"Whats happening-"

"Devil."