No Heroes, No Villains

Chapter 1

"HELP! PLEASE SOMEONE!"

Hells Kitchen. A place where dreams come to die, or is it a place where dreams come to thrive? Either way, right now it feels like the latter as the barrel of a revolver brushes my nose. Growing up here as a kid, you're warned every day about the threat of being mugged. The threat of being beaten. The threat of being murdered. The break from the madness was refreshing, and at this point I would do anything to be back at University. The night is cold enough that my panting breaths are visible. The man in front of me is masked in a dark hoodie and sweats, with a basic tennis shoe on his feet. He's medium height but broad, broad enough that trying to take that gun would be stupid. Breathing deeply, I make eye contact with him, trying to give a pleading look.

"Alright, listen dude. I'm a broke graduate, the best I can give you is my neckl-"

I don't get the chance to finish before the whistling of a thrown object permeates the air. A flash in the street light catches my attention and the mugger is on the ground. Beside the wide body lay a red baton, and the shiny gun. I kick the gun away and step back waiting to be attacked myself. A muffled footfall creeps in the darkness,  as another dark figure appears. While the figure approaches the stench of blood and leather attack my nostrils. My face crinkles at the scent, the urge to turn away not strong enough to pull my attention from the masked figure entering the dull light. He's not too tall maybe around 5'10. He's covered from head to toe in red leather, with a helmet like mask covering his face. His footsteps are quiet as he approaches, looking directly at the groaning thug in front of me. I can feel my heart jump into my throat as he gets closer and can't stop myself from word vomiting.

"Listen, helmet mask guy, like I told the fuck wad; I am a broke college graduate and I have a pretty cheap necklace... Hey, HEY! What are you doing?"

The figured has turned the thug over, and straddled the almost unconscious body. The leather covered hero, now turned vigilante as he continues to beat the thug. The sound of gloved fists breaking bones in a mans face will forever be unforgettable. Every time there is contact, blood splatter decorated the dirty concrete. The pained groans of my mugger begin to fade, the thug slowly dying after each connection. The leather coated man continues his onslaught, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I move forward, and use all my strength to push my would be hero from the motionless body. This action seems to snap the guy out of his daze, and he looks up at me. The remnants of blood paint my hands a brilliant shade of crimson, and I meet his gaze with a scowl.

"What the fuck dude! Were you planning on killing him, or putting him into a coma for the rest of his life? Fuck, your cheerleader equipment did a fine job of putting him on his ass. Are-Are you listening to me? I'm TALKING TO YOU!"  

Walking away slowly, the bloodied man chuckles ever so slightly before stopping. I can see his shoulders sag in the dimly lit street. It feels like a western stand off, both of us waiting of each other's move. The tension is palpable, the temptation to reach out and grasp it is intoxicating. The man turns around, his movements swift and silent. His breathing still ragged from the beating he gave to the now groaning body. He spoke thoughtfully and eloquently, surprising me to the core. 

"Um, thank  you. Really. If  you didn't stop me, I might've killed that man. Or put him in a coma. So again, thank you."

"Yeah, well you're welcome. Um, thanks for hitting him in the head with your cheerlead-"

"It's not a cheerleading tool."

"Eh it kind of is. It's a baton right?"

"Yes."

"Cheerleading."

"Gymnastics."

"The point is, helmet mask, I'm saying thank you for stopping that guy. Now, can you maybe walk me home, because I'm scared shitless to walk down this street."  

"Daredevil."

"What?"

"Th-they call me Daredevil."

"I don't know, I kind of like helmet mask"

"Please.."

"Fine, Daredevil. Now can you please walk me home before another gun toting lunatic comes out?"

"Yeah, I can do that."

*********************************************

The walk home was long and tedious. 'Daredevil' kept very quiet the whole time, even when I tried to start conversation. Before we started on our walk he grabbed a black duffel bag and slug it over his shoulder. I attempted to ask if he had pom poms hidden within, but he refused to answer. Any attempt at conversation he would brush off with a grunt or telling me to watch my step. The night grew colder and colder, even with the heavy sweater I had on a chill began to creep within my bones. As if feeling the warmth from my body disappear, my temporary body guard hands me a black zip up. The scent of cinnamon and a light hint of a familiar cologne, is a relief from the old blood and leather that I had been smelling. I thank him and continue to try and get some information from him.

"So Daredevil, that's an interesting name"

No response.

"You sure you didn't give it to yourself  or?"

Again, no answer.

"Ah, the silent, brooding type. Are you single? I know this-"

What appears to be a muffled laugh escapes, making the street around us seem to brighten. The laugh was soft and kind, almost infectious if he kept it going. He was shaking his head, white straight teeth cutting through the darkness. Smiling in return I continue to try and get something out of him, anything to find out who my hero is.

"So helmet-"

"Daredevil"

"Right, Daredevil. You've been doing this long?"

"It feels like an eternity, but around 2 and a half years. This is your place, isn't it?"

 "Uh yeah. Weird. You sure you're not stalking me Daredevil?"

This gets another small chuckle from the masked man. Tonight has been full of fear, adventure and near death. The small stoop to the door seems to be miles long, each stair a mountain. I'm not ready to leave the company of my new devil companion. Maybe this is what Stockholm Syndrome feels like. I reach for my keys, and look back at the masked rescuer. He's stood still, as if hearing for anything to give away that we were followed. Clearing my throat, his attention passes back towards me. A hint of a grin playing at his lips.

"Welp, I'd invite you in but you could still be a serial killer. You also don't seem like the kind to hang out with their damsels. So thanks again 'Daredevil'. I'm keeping the hoodie by the way, it's what us women do."

"Eh-heh, you're welcome..."

"Oh, that's you asking for my name. I'm Charlotte, but go ahead and call me Charlie. Not that we'll meet again, but uh yeah. Goodnight Red."

"Red? I haven't heard that in a while. I'm sure I'll see you soon Charlie. Goodbye."

That was it. Before I knew it, he disappeared into the night. Maybe he flew away?  A long tired sigh escapes before the door is even opened. At least maybe I'll sleep decently tonight. Slinking inside the small apartment, I pull out my phone to see a text from Foggy. 

Foggy:

Hey Char! I can't wait to see you tomorrow! Get ready to be apart of Nelson and Murdock!

Man, he's gonna shit himself when he hears what happened tonight.