A car crashed into an abandoned five storey residential building.
5 armed men dressed in dark coloured puffy jackets and jeans, with black ski masks covering their faces. Two of them had a large bag slung over their shoulder. The men quickly rushed inside the building, keeping an eye behind them to ensure they weren't followed.
They climbed up the stairs quickly, finding themselves on the second floor and went inside one of the apartments.
"What the hell man! That was scary!" One of the bags carrying one said, his voice trembling in fear.
"Shut up, Moe. It's not time to get scared." Another one with a pistol in his hand, clearly the leader of the little group, scolded him while he took off his mask.
The others did the same, taking off the mask before setting down the bags.
"Do you think he followed us here?" Another one with an Assault rifle in his arms asked.
"Even if he did, so what? He's just a guy running around in a mask." The leader spoke once more,"What's there to be afraid of, huh!? We are 5, we have guns, why are you all still acting like scaredy cats?"
"Yes, we are 5 armed men, but still a guy running around in a mask is chasing after us. Don't you think that's a little unsettling at the least."
The leader went silent at that. Suddenly, a noise was heard from the stairs. All 5 of them immediately whipped towards the direction of the noise, raising and aiming their weapons forward.
"Larry, go check what it is." The leader commanded.
The person in question begrudgingly went forward, keeping his Uzi up and aimed at the doorway leading to the stairs. He climbed down a few steps and leaned over the railing, scouting out the 1st floor and the stairs, his Uzi raised above the railing and aimed downwards. With the darkness hindered his vision he didn't see anyone.
Larry let out a sigh of relief when he realized he was alone. He was about to return, when from the darkness something shot towards him and wrapped around his neck. Larry couldn't even let out a noise before he was suddenly pulled over the railing and fell into the darkness.
Back in the room, the others were getting impatient. "What's taking him so long?" Moe complained.
"Keep quiet Moe, we don't want to hear you whining all the time." Another of the thugs replied.
"Oh yeah, why don't you make me, Carl!" Moe angrily snarled, pointing his shotgun at Carl. Carl in turn pointed his revolver at him.
"Guys..." The final member of their team, Tylar, called out in concern.
"Shut up you two! It's not time to fight." The leader reprimanded them, putting a stop to their fight.
Suddenly, a creaking noise was heard and the thugs immediately jumped at their feet, and pointed their guns at the entrance of the room. Then footsteps were heard, along with the creaking of the old wooden panels of the floor.
The thugs stood there, their guns still held up as they heard the footsteps coming closer and closer, until it suddenly stopped.
"Larry? Is that you? It's not funny, man." Tyler called out.
But there was no answer.
"Larry, get in here right now." The leader said this time.
Suddenly, an object shot out from the dark and dropped near their feet. Before the thugs could react, the object suddenly exploded. The bright flash of the explosion, followed by the loud noise had left them disoriented. Just then, something else dashed towards them from the darkness.
With a sharp blow, the leader found himself on the floor, clutching his stomach in pain.
Moe raised his shotgun and attempted to shoot the dark figure that now stood before him. But before he could, the figure struck his weapon, redirecting the barrel towards the floor as the fired shell blew out a chunk of the wooden panel. It was quickly followed with a strike to his throat that left him gasping for air before turning towards
Tyler shook his head to clear the haze and raised his rifle, but he got punched to the floor, his rifle flying out of his hand.
Carl points his gun forwards, but it gets grabbed before he's punched to the face, and then disarmed. Punch landed on his gut, followed by a punch to the face and then an uppercut, throwing him back on the floor.
Moe manages to get his bearings together and tries to tackle the dark figure, but the figure flips him over and onto the floor before stomping on his head, knocking him out.
Tyler gets up and tries to attack, but the figure ducks under his punch before throwing a jab at the side of his abdomen, followed by a punch to the face. Before Tylar could recover, the figure grabs him by his collar and starts punching and hitting him continuously, hitting his face and abdomen several times before dropping him on the floor and continuing to deliver a few more punches
The leader meanwhile crawls away, reaching for his pistol. Grabbing the weapon, he turns around and from his position on the floor, he shoots at the 'thing' attacking them.
The bullet strikes it, but nothing happens. The figure turns towards him and the leader feels a wave of terror washing over him.
He crawls back, and keeps firing at the dark figure, desperate and terrified. His terror only grew more and more as the figure slowly slowly walked towards him. The bullets that hit it bounced or ricocheted off its body, creating a yellow spark each time, illuminating the figure slightly.
He kept firing until his gun ran out of bullets, creating 'click','click' noises as he kept on pressing the trigger.
"D-damn it." He grunted, bringing his gun down as he produced another magazine from his back pocket and shakily tried to load it in his gun, but failing to do it as his shaky hands made the task difficult.
Terrified, he glanced up, his breath hitching almost when he saw the dark figure still getting closer. "Come on, come on..." He chanted,focusing back on his weapon.
Finally he managed to put the magazine in and racked the slide, inserting a bullet in the chamber. He looked up, holding his gun forward, ready to shoot once more, but it was too late. The dark figure stood before him and grabbed his wrist in a vice grip.
A bullet shot out of the gun in the process when his finger squeezed down on the trigger as pain shot through his wrist under the inhuman grip, earning some pained moans from the thug. The dark figure thrust his other hand forward, grabbing him by the neck and pushing him against a wall while bending his arm to make the gun point upwards.
It then twisted his wrist, making the thug scream out in pain and drop the gun. The thug stared at the 'face' of the figure, staring into the dark lenses that covered where its eyes should be. The leader could feel his blood running cold in terror as he was now staring at the Devil himself.
"No, no, no, please,... No, no..." The thug chanted, begging for mercy.
A number of loud screams could be heard from the building once more and then, it was silent.
...
In the morning, the area was surrounded by police. Police tapes were placed around the spot of investigation while officers went around the place to check. The thugs were already taken into custody by the time Astrid arrived at the location.
She looked up at the building before moving inside. Arriving at the second floor, her eyes swiped over the surroundings, taking in each detail. She then noticed something on the floor. she knelt down on one knee and picked up the object, a bullet.
She then looked up at the scene again with a frown.
...
"Okay, but how do we know it was actually Nightfury? For all we know, the culprit can be one of the thugs who might have had a fall out with the others, or some rival team."
Astrid let out a frustrated sigh as she heard Snotlout. Steven "Snotlout" Jorgensen was one of her colleagues, and he had become an agent around the same time as she did. Though, if she was being honest, she doubted if Snotlout was even capable of being an agent. Sure he had taken some minor cases, but with his brash arrogant attitude and main character complex and lack of smarts make him a poor choice as an agent.
In fact, she doubted he could have gone this far in B.S.D.I without the help and influence of his father, Stewart "Spitelout" Jorgensen, who is one the board of directors.
"Snotlout," Astrid turned to face him,"If it was their unknown teammate or some rival group, the two duffel bags full of money wouldn't have been found there. A grand total of half a million dollars was stolen from the bank those thugs robbed, and only 50 grand was missing from the total amount found at the location.
Besides the surveillance cameras on the streets have recorded a black clothed figure zipping behind them on a bike, and pursuing them. The witnesses on the streets have also confirmed it, just like every other case involved with the Nightfury.
And like those cases, this one also falls in line with the pattern of Nightfury's works. The criminals were brutally beaten, and some were even traumatized. Thankfully none were dead by the time police found them. One of the thugs was found laying on the 1st floor with a cable wrapped around his neck, fragments of some sort of explosive were found on the second floor where the other thugs were found.
With all that, you still think it was a set-up made by some other guy or group."
"Ye-yeah..." Snotlout tried to reply with a weak voice.
Astrid glared at him and Snotlout gave up, leaning back on his seat and sulked in silence. The Thorston twins laughed at Snotlout's reaction, and Astrid sighed.
"I'm working with children." She lamented in her mind.
The Thorston twins, Theodore "Tuffnut" Thorston and Rachel "Ruffnut" Thorston, are also her colleagues. Their child-like antics and chaos gremlin energy had made them quite well known among their peers. The twins were often arguing with each other and pulling pranks on any and every one. But despite their flaws, the twins could be smart when they wanted to and were extremely loyal to each other.
The twins, Snotlout and Finley Justin "Fishlegs" Ingerman, an IT department trainee turned agent, were the only friends she had in and outside her work, and despite how exhausting it is to deal with them sometimes, they were good folks.
"Shut it you two!" Snotlout barked at the twins.
"Oh, come on, Snotman. Not our fault you suck at doing detective." Ruffnut laughed.
Snotlout growled more in annoyance and anger. And Astrid sighed once more, rubbing her forehead. This group discussion with her friends is now giving her a headache. "Guys, can we not do this now?" Fishlegs squeaked, trying to calm the situation.
"I need a break." Astrid suddenly announced and left the room.
She walked down the corridor and on her way, she bumped into someone.
"Astrid." The person called her name.
"Eret." Astrid replied, looking up at him.
Eret Eretson is a senior agent, working in the field for way longer than she has. He is a tall burly man in his late 20s with long hair and a tattoo on his chin. Over the years, he has made quite a name for himself in the field.
"Going somewhere?" Eret asked.
"Yeah. Going to fetch some coffee."
"Oh, okay."
Astrid walked past him, but she had only taken a few steps when Eret called for her again. "Astrid," Eret called, and when Astrid faced him he said,"Goodluck on your case."
Astrid smiled and nodded. "Thanks." And with that she left.
...
The B.S.D.I HQ is a large tall building. Astrid stepped out from the front gates of the building and onto the streets. She walked down the road, and after walking across three blocks, she arrived at her destination.
It was a small cafe called "The edge". This was a place she was introduced to via a 'friend' she once had. Astrid stepped inside and took a seat at one of the tables. The morning rush hour had passed, so the place was rather vacant with very few customers at the moment.
"Hey, Miss Hofferson. How was your day?" One of the waiters approached her.
"Oh, hey. My day was just fine." Astrid replied with a smile.
"That's great. Should I bring you the usual?"
"Yes please."
A few minutes later, she was served with her beverage in a paper coffee cup. She thanked the server and took a sip of the warm drink, a strong black coffee with some brown sugar and a little cream. She sat there, sipping her drink, while her mind wandered onto her task, trying to find links and patterns between all the information she had.
Finishing her drink, she paid her bill, even leaving a generous tip for the server and headed out, ready to continue her work to trace down her target.