Blood for Blood

Orlando leaned against the side of the car as he waited for Charon to arrive; inside, Janitor sat in the back seat, cleaning his shotgun. When news of Mute's death spread through the group and Charon wanted to launch a counter attack on Mammon swiftly, the Janitor was one of the first to volunteer. Orlando wasn't about to let one of his best friends undergo a mission like this alone, and so he volunteered as well. It was an easy enough sounding job: bust into one of the bars in Mammon's territory where a large number of their gangers were, open fire, get out. Orlando wasn't sure how he felt about it considering the fact that there were almost certainly going to be some civilians in there, but the Janitor was the one who came forward with this plan, and Orlando wasn't about to argue with it. A brother had been killed, and Father always believed in "Equal or greater retaliation". War is nothing more than escalation until one side is willing to pay a price the other will not. The sooner that price was paid, the sooner the war would end.

The men didn't have to wait long before Charon arrived. He walked out from the building, well armed and a dead look in his eye. Charon had a naturally scary look to him, but it was one that you got used to after spending so much time with him. While Orlando and Janitor were still on the newer side, they knew Charon well enough to sense the negative emotions coming from him. Charon meant business tonight. No games, no politics, no mercy. This was about sending a message. Charon didn't even acknowledge the men as he got in to the passenger seat, checking his ammo while the other men got inside.

"You both understand the mission?" Charon asked as the car began to move. "This isn't about intel gathering or anything we've done before. We're sending Simon a message about what he started here. He needs to know that every choice he makes from here forward is going to have a disasterous consequences" Charon spoke coldly as he just stared at the road ahead of him. "I want three members captured tonight if possible. One will do, but there's a bonus in it for both of you if you get me three" Charon said simply. Charon didn't reveal what he planned on doing with the men, but Orlando and Janitor were smart enough to get a pretty good idea.

After all, someone had to tell everyone what happened.

Orlando nodded grimly as he started the car, driving toward the bar. Janitor let out a grunt. "I'll do what I can. Can't guarantee they'll have all their limbs intact if Mop and I get to them before either of you two, but I doubt you'll have an issue with that, sir." He double checked his gear; he brought his shotgun, lovingly named "Mop"; his trusty steel riot shield; and, for if things got messy, his trusty baton. Orlando was less extravagent with his gear; he was wearing his Kevlar gear, and was packing only a good old fashioned tommy gun and some extra drums for it. He was going to be spearheading the entrance to the bar, laying down opening fire and mowing down who he could before Janitor took the front line with his shield when they started firing back.
"Got some zipties in the trunk to keep whoever we apprehend tamed." Orlando said, his eyes focused on the road. "I'm sure we can fit three of them in there if we stack them neatly enough."

"No need for them to be comfortable, or all in one piece. Just need them alive long enough" Charon said quietly as he shut his eye. He traveled the rest of the way in silence. The boss wasn't in a very talkative mood today, though Orlando and Janitor absolutely knew why. Mute had long been a good friend to Charon, and the loyalty the two had for each other clearly was mutual and extended far. The two had a history, but one that ended with Mute's death. The man was going to have a war fought over him, his blood was going to be repaid by the blood of hundreds.

"I'll have my mask off the moment we walk in there" Charon said, dropping this information when they were a few blocks away from their target location. "I'm going to give these bastards as little chance to fight back as I can, you two had best brace yourself. I can't stop my power from affecting you"

Orlando swallowed. "Appreciate the warning, sir." He said.
"Smart play." The Janitor added. "This is where they go to celebrate. I'd be surprised if we didn't run into at least one super in there. The more even the playing field, the better."
The group pulled into the parking lot of the bar, a slab of mint green in the darkness of the night. Inside, loud music was playing, and laughter could be heard. Through one of the windows, one man could be seen conjuring flames from his hands, creating rings and other creative shapes. "We got a pyro." Janitor announced, spotting him first. "We leaving him alive to roast his buddies in the panic Charon's making, or is he priority one?"
Orlando cast a look toward Janitor that silently said, "Are you an absolute moron?" He reiterated the silent look audibly. "That guy isn't just gonna roast his buddies. We're gonna be balls deep in that bar when hell breaks loose. I'm aiming right for him when we break down that door."

"Orlando's right. My power is still developing, I'm good at weakening people but I still have to use a gun or a knife to kill someone. I'm not taking the risk that this pyro is just a conjurer of cheap tricks. We kill him first, send a message to everyone else" Charon said as he loaded his gun with the first two bullets. The weapon had been a gift from Father, and it was time to use it to send a message. They stopped the car and it was time to go.

The men got out of the car as Charon walked forward. He reached for the mask and soon removed it, his scarred face showing as he moved to the door. With a swift kick he opened the door. "I'm here bitches, tonight's on me!" Charon said before throwing two gold coins in the air. As the fear and paranoia began to set in to the large crowd, Charon pulled out his double-barreled pistol and began firing. Mammon had a distinctive combination of leather jackets and tattoos. Charon started firing at anyone nearing him, trying to think out the close ones to allow some room for that machine gun to come in to play.

The pyro was too far away for Charon to get a good shot at, but hopefully a machine gun would do the trick nicely.

Orlando immediately began opening fire on the group of gangers where the pyro was entertaining, sending most sprawling to the floor, but the pyro managed to scramble into cover. There was screaming and mayhem, some of the people started firing back, some were pushing back to flee, but a few started rushing toward them boldly. The pyro started launching jets of fire in their direction, but the Janitor pushed to the front and took the brunt of it with the riot shield. Behind him, Orlando continued mowing down who he could without exposing himself too much. With everyone's attention to the front, it was easy for a man with flaming purple hair and mismatched eyes to get a lucky kidney punch in on Charon. He whirled the man around and started cackling. "Remember me, spook?" He hissed. "You killed my boss. You killed my girl. You killed my gang. Then you forked me over to them Red Diamonds as their play thing. But a true Cerberus never forgets where he came from. And he never forgives." He pulled out two glinting daggers and slashed at Charon's face in an X pattern.

Charon was quickly moving forward, wanting to make sure that his fear was affecting as much people as possible. Charon's powers were growing, and a crowded place like this was the perfect area for his ability. This was the most people Charon had ever willingly affected at once. He hadn't caused this much panic with his power in a long time. However, he was soon halted by a familiar face. "You..." Charon growled as he recognized the man. Sam had told Charon that he had escaped, but he had been lying low. Charon had always wondered how he had disappeared without the held of his own gang.

"I put your bitch down with ease, and I'll do the same to you!" Charon shouted as he used his footwork to dodge the sharp ends of the blades. Charon moved forward, quickly attempting to use one of his arms to block his enemy at the wrists. Charon's free hand removed his karambit from his jacket, quickly slashing at the man's chest to dig as deep of a cut as Charon could muster.

The man took a quick step backwards, the karambit catching is shirt and leaving a fine line on his chest, but only a small trickle of blood came out. He quickly moved forward, his skill with knives seeming to have only sharpened since their previous meeting, lunging with a double slash at Charon's throat. At this distance, it would be obvious that despite his bold aggression and full awareness of Charon's powers, he was still fighting to maintain control of himself and keep the terror he was feeling at bay. He seemed to be masking his fear through loud maniacal laughter.

Charon didn't have time for this. If one man held him back for this long, too many people would get away. The streets needed to run red tonight, and Charon wasn't going to let this guy slow him down. When the man made a wide slash, Charon caught him by the wrist before twisting it to the point of breaking the man's arm. Charon kicked the man down to his knees before stabbing his karambit in to his shoulder and slashing all the way down his arm. It was a big wound, but he wasn't going to bleed out from it. Charon pulled back on the blade sharply though, allowing him to step back and gain a bit of distance. The man still had one usable arm and blade, and Charon wasn't going to take any of his injuries. He still had a real Super to deal with tonight.

The man let out a loud yell, but slashed back wildly with his other arm. Preemptively avoiding Charon's next strike, the man leaped backwards, doing a surprisingly acrobatic flip to create distance between him and Charon. However, in the chaos of people scrambling to flee the bar, he ended up colliding with a stream of people, tumbling to the ground, and having several fleeing patrons run on top of him, one person's particular heavy footstep knocking him out. As Charon stared at the spectacular failure of the jester-like man, a lone voice seemed to rise above the chaos, despite it being little more than a whisper.
Neal Crane. The voice whispered. A man dressed in black suddenly stepped in front of Charon and placed his palm on his forehead, and the world around him went dark; not as though he passed out, but as though all the lights in the bar simply... Vanished. Not just the lights vanished, but the noise, the people. Everything was just... Gone. A black plane of existence, void of everything except Charon and, about ten feet away from him, a tall, bald man with icy blue eyes dressed in black leather.
"Hello, Neal. Welcome to our personal hell." He said calmly; he seemed remarkably unaffected by Charon's powers.

"Huh, I wonder how he got so high in Cerberus anyway?" Charon asked himself before making sure the man was tied up nicely. One down, two to go at least.

Before Charon could move to go after anyone else, the lights and the area around him started to become strange. Everything just seemed to vanish, everything but Charon himself and a lone man across from him. Charon was bothered by the power, but he was far more bothered by the use of his real name. No one had used that name in a long time, and Charon hated the sound of hearing it now. Yeah, this bastard was dead.

"I do not have time for you asshole" Charon said before lifting up his gun and firing off two shots from each barrel, aiming to kill the man quickly so he could slaughter more of Mammon's men.

The man made no motion to move as Charon drew his pistol, and he simply vanished into black mist when the shots ran through him. As he reappeared, the darkness around them seemed to... Shake. Cracks of light shown through the darkness, and the sounds of chaos could be heard through it. "So very aggressive, aren't we, Neal?" The man asked, his voice seeming to reverberate hundreds of times in the emptiness. "You've not even stopped to see what I have to offer. Touchy touchy..." The man calmly stepped toward Charon. "As I said, this is our personal hell. But I could easily make it paradise for you." He snapped his fingers, and an odd warmth washed over Charon's face. Once he went to feel, Charon would find his face... healed. The burns gone. As his face was repaired, however, the walls shook again, and Orlando's and Janitor's war cries could be heard for a split second through the cracks of light. "Everything lost can be brought back. Everything." He said; again, the walls shook, and mist swirled in front of Charon. "Something's been preying on your mind, Crane. Allow me to alleviate your worries." Slowly but surely, the mist transformed into Mute; once the transformation completed, the cracks sealed again. "You stay here, you comply, and you get everything you can ask for. A fair trade, I'd say." The strange man had looped around behind Charon, and now had a hand resting on his shoulder. "Do we have a deal?"

Charon felt his face, his healed and normal face. He also saw Mute, saw everything that he had ever envisioned for himself. He didn't feel the fear within him anymore, he felt...at peace.

But it was all a lie, Charon knew more than most how to make people see and feel things. This man was no ally of Charon's, he was trying to distract him, and he dared to use an image of Mute against him. Charon's one eye burned with anger before removing his Karambit and slashing at the man's neck who stood behind him. "GO TO HELL!" Charon screamed as he started focusing on his power, trying to gain the mental power necessary to break out of whatever this thing was.

Orlando and Janitor were still fighting, Charon had to get back in the fight.

The knife cut through the man, who evaporated once again into the mist; the light cracked through, the cracks slightly wider than before. The man reappeared behind Mute. "Then you shall remain trapped here in your own personal hell of your own making." He whispered. He turned into mist, and the mist swirled around Mute's head. Mute's eyes shifted to the same icy blue, and his face contorted into unnatural rage and aggression. The man's voice continued whispering "Your own personal hell", seemingly inside of Charon's skull as Mute trembled, letting out blusters of sound like sobs or grunts of rage. The walls shook, the light flashed in and out, then everything went silent for a moment as the man's voice whispered, "Goodbye, Neal." in his disturbingly calm tone. Once that happened Mute charged towards Neal, the ground beneath his feet cracking with light whenever his feet hit the ground. He began swinging wildly at Charon, letting out a cry of rage as he did.

Charon could be a patient man. He could be a calm man, a man of reason and understanding. In the world of gang violence, you needed all of these things in order to survive. However, tonight was different. Tonight Charon wasn't the same man that he had been weeks before. No, rage and anger were consuming him on multiple levels, and he was looking for the right kind of people to take it out on. This bastard was getting more and more cruel, and it just meant that Charon was going to have to punish him for it. He would be the first to die, his corpse would serve the proper message.

This wasn't Mute, Mute was never going to come back in reality. He was dead, his body would end up in somewhere random and he'd likely end up in some unmarked grave. It was a risk in this industry, but that didn't make it any easier. Mute had been a good and loyal friend, his kind were rare to find. Even without a voice Mute was able to understand Charon better than most. He'd be missed, but this illusion was in the way.

Charon removed his knife before stepping back, quickly lashing out his knife to cut at this fake Mute's throat. He didn't want to do this any longer, he had too much to do. "I'm sorry" Charon just whispered.

As the figure of Mute dissipated, so the did the darkness; with it, the illusions. When Charon came back to reality, he found that his knife was embedded in the throat of a woman in a short red dress; she had no tattoos on her arms, and was clearly not a member of Mammon. As the rest of the world came back into focus, the man's voice whispered in his head, "Apologies mean nothing, Neal." When Neal looked around, the man who had plunged him into darkness would be no where in sight, the mob of people had covered his escape.
"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, CHARON?!" Orlando screamed; he and the Janitor had spread out in the bar, Janitor dealing with four men on his own and Orlando fighting the pyro on his own, the tommy gun on the ground at his feet, the metal twisted and melted.

Charon pulled the knife out, allowing the woman to drop to the ground in her own blood. She was already dead, a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps she was a girlfriend to one of Mammon's guys, or perhaps she just came in to get a drink. Either way, she paid the price for someone else's war.

Charon snapped his head over as he heard Orlando scream. Janitor was using his weapons to take on four guys, but Orlando was the one taking on the pyro and his gun was now completely ruined. Janitor could hold his own Charon decided. Charon sprinted forward, leaping up on to the bar before using it to jump at the pyro, aiming to smash his knee in to the man's face to buy Orlando some time to breathe and get prepared. "Sorry, this guy isn't the only Super here" Charon said and left it at that. For now, Pyro here was going to be the bigger problem.

The pyro took the full force of the knee to the face, being caught completely off guard by the new addition to the fight. After he stumbled, he whipped his arm back around as he stood back, sending a line of bright red fire at both Charon and Orlando. Orlando let out a shout, being much closer to the pyro than Charon was and unable to move to react in time; his right arm was hit with the flames, not setting him on fire, but burning his skin quite badly. As the flames continued to travel towards Charon, Orlando swung aggressively at the Pyro with his left fist, just missing the Pyro, who unleashed a close range fireball into Orlando's chest and sent him sprawling backwards onto the floor.

Charon had longer to dodge the attack, quickly moving aside in order to avoid the stream of fire. Charon needed to make a plan to end this before this Super burned the whole building down. Charon used his illusions to cause several streams of water to fire at the man in at attempt to make him think he was doused. Hopefully it bought Orlando some time. At the same time Charon ran forward and slid along the ground, using his karambit to try and slice the mans chest open.

The pyro was caught off guard, stumbling backwards to avoid the illusionary water. The blade cut into his shirt, and a streak of red blossomed out, but the cut wasn't deep enough to slow him down significantly. Taking advantage of Charon's position on the ground, he delivered a kick to his upper chest, less to do damage and more to force him on the ground and out of the fight for another second or so. He scrambled his way to the bar, whipping out another jet of fire behind him. It wasn't as powerful as the one before, nor was it carefully aimed, it was simply a deterrent to keep Charon or Orlando from pursuing him. Once at the bar, he reached behind and grabbed a bottle of whiskey, holding it like a weapon and turning to face Charon and Orlando. "C'mon, then! Come and fight me!" He yelled, his eyes wide with terror.
There was a loud blast of a shotgun, and one of the men the Janitor was fighting went flying backwards, his upper torso torn open. He still had three on him, but he seemed to be holding his own, batting them away with his steel riot shield.

Charon fell to the ground, landing on his injured arm. It had been a few weeks since Baskerville tore into Charons flesh, while he was in no danger of losing it the pain was still a little present. Charon used his hood arm to push himself up, looking to see where the Super had taken up position.

Janitor was doing alright on his own, but Chaton knew reinforcements could show up for these guys at any time. They had to keep fighting and fast, Charon still wanted two more hostages. As the Otto threatened them with his bottle of whiskey, Charon raised his gun and fired straight at the bottle in at attempt to harm and disarm him. With the second barrel of his pistol he aimed for the mans chest before firing.

The pyro lunged forward, swinging with the bottle as Charon fired at it. The bullet hit the bottle, sending alcohol spewing in all directions in the air, but before Charon could get the second shot off, the pyro ignited the liquid, causing a large explosion, burning the skin and temporarily blinding Charon, Orlando and the pyro. He staggered backwards, recovering incredibly fast due to this being a common occurrence in his fights, and lunged forward, wrapping his hands around Charon's throat.

Damn it, this was what Charon was hoping to prevent. He had expected the guy to use it as a weapon but not like this. Charons one eye was bad enough, so having your one eye being blinded was a pain in the ass. As Charon felt the hands around his neck he felt the loss of air. Charon kicked right into the mans knee before drawing his knife and lunging forward to imbed his blade into the mans stomach. If Charon made contact, he ripped it out at a random angle to try and inflict as much internal damage as possible.

The pyro let out a scream as the knife sank into his stomach, and he was forced to let go of Charon's throat. Charon yanked the blade out, causing a large amount of blood to come pouring out of his gut, but the pyro seemed far from done. He let out a large blast of fire, seeming aware now that the water wasn't real, or perhaps that he had it all evaporated now. At this close of proximity, the fire ball had little chance to miss, sending all three flying backwards and away from each other. Orlando's head collided with one of the bolted down tables in the bar and collapsed to the ground, unconcious. The pyro hit his head as well, but was slowly getting up. It would take him several seconds to get back to his feet, however, and another few to get back into the fight.