What defines a villain?

Chapter 15

~Third Person POV~

Undead strolled around the large warehouse with his bag slinging from his shoulder. Time to time he crouched down next to a terrified slave, looking at them with the curiosity of a preschooler. 

His stomach voiced it's complaints, reminding the masked boy that why he was here in the first place. He sighed, slouching his shoulders. Not only was he hungry, the warehouse was very loud too. Victims struggles and screamed, the workers laughed and yelled at each other, and don't even get him started on the car engines.

"Honestly." He clicked his tongue in distaste. "Human trafficking is such an annoying business."

Undead sighed, glowering at the workers. Although no one could see his face, they could feel the glares coming their way. Everyone made sure to leave a three meter radius whenever they walked past the serial killer, sweating profusely as they did.

After a few more minutes of sulking in the corner of the warehouse, he felt something. His eyes widened, freezing in place.

They are closing in. The warehouse is about to be surrounded, Undead thought, mind racing. I have three escape routes from here. Five seconds until one of them gets blocked, eleven seconds until the second one gets blocked, the third one shouldn't but it is the hardest to get to.

In a split second decision he sprinted to Mustard, which to most people would look more like teleportation. He grabbed the boy by the waist and sped off, catapulting through a nearby open window.

As expected, the masked serial killer saw multiple colourful shadows below him as he flew through the air. A hero ambush.

Silencing Mustards yelp of surprise by the sudden action, along with his own rushed landing, Undead began sprinting away from the scene. He may be one of the most dangerous and unpredictable criminals, but he is far from invincible.

One of the heroes noticed this. A loud gunshot pierced the air as a bullet was launched at the fleeing killer. The bullet imbedded itself in Undead's leg, which would've left anyone else unable to run. However, to the masked boy it was child's play.

He ran even faster, leaping into one of the alleys nearby with enough force to leave cracks in the concrete where he landed. And just like that, he was out of sight.

"Eraserhead, catch them!!" The hero who shot the serial killer commanded.

A hero who closely resembled a homeless man sprinted off, a look of determination in his red eyes. He might complain about not getting paid enough for this, of his lack of sleep and coffee these past day, but once he get's going even the toughest criminals are no match for him.

He, along with a few other of his hero colleagues, have gathered to ambush a human trafficking storage warehouse. 

Everything was going according to plan as they surrounded the building. No one seemed to notice, and the leader of the operation, Gang Orca, was about to give the signal to close in.

However, something was wrong. Right before the signal was given, Eraserhead felt something. It was something he had never felt before.

A sense of death.

Yes, he has come close to dying multiple times in his career, considering he was a hero, and a lone one at that. 

But this was different.

There was someone in that building who could kill him in an instant. A merciless presence that just noticed them.

The heroes froze, every one of them feeling a new type of fear strike through their hearts. They all knew, that their life depended on the decision of that presence. Run or fight. Whatever it chose would determine whether they live to see the sunrise.