Opus to Revenge with Gunfire [Roman]

[Deleted]

“Hey this is Vince with Shamwow. You’ll be saying wow every time you use this towel. It’s like a shammy, it’s like a towel, it’s like a sponge…”[/i]

Nathaniel leaned back in the study back of his desk chair and his eyes trailed to the screen of the small television that occupied his bedroom. He arched his brow at infomercial before shaking his head. The guy had such enthusiasm, by which he meant, he could taste the man’s need for a sugar rush kicking in. His joy needed to be kicked up a notch if he wanted to sell whatever it was. He hadn’t really been paying attention: case in point right there. The man needed more classes on acting like he was enthused about the product. Nathaniel toyed with continuing to make some commentary on the item and its seller, but deemed it an honest waste of his time. There were better things to do and he wasn’t that bored. He straightened in his chair and returned to his previous task.

The fingers of one hand curled into his dark hair while the other opened a manila folder. The information held within was on a female patient, referred to Arkham’s out-patient program after institutionalization proved less than conducive in the treatment of her eating disorder—in fact, going by the reports it seemed to have agitated it. Interesting; anyway she was to be one of his first cases of therapy at Arkham Asylum. He would be handling the psychological aspect of her treatment—all recommendations for drugs would require the involvement of a psychiatrist in the building to assess her before medication could begin—while the physical treatment would be administered by a doctor of the medical facility. Nathaniel had yet to meet the patient personally, but he wanted to be prepared for that, even if their first session would consist of nothing beyond introductions and expectations of therapy and treatment. He was helped along by the fact that she had already filled out the preliminary psychological tests and surveys. The results were highly indicative of an anxiety disorder—most likely Obsessive Compulsion Disorder, but there were other possibilities—and Major Depression. Those diagnoses weren’t all that surprising, however. Nathaniel tapped his fingers on the desktop. They weren’t surprising at all. He would have expected she would test for those disorders. Anxiety and depression were absolutely expected in an anorexic patient who constantly counted calories. He pursed his lips. These tests were a start, but any final judgments could be made after meeting with the woman in person. Paper only told him so much, it recorded only what she could hide in script. People could lie as well, he knew, but it was so much easier to push through those lies when they were standing in front of you. He would figure out if she was hiding anything once he saw her, he decided, and thumbed through the rest of the file to gather more identifying, rather than psychological, information about her. Yet she would not be his only patient.

Nathaniel ran his tongue along his teeth and closed the female’s file. Setting it aside, he took up another. This one was thicker. He opened it, worked his mouth while he browsed it momentarily, and then he closed it. If he was going to read through that chicken scratch, which was either because someone had a lot to say or someone felt they should say a lot, he was going to need some caffeine.

Unlike his father, Nathaniel had not quite acquired the addiction to coffee yet. His poison was more modern in manufacturing and marketing. He pushed his seat from the desk and walked out the bedroom door. His feet were bare and he wore little nothing more than a pair of dark jeans and a simple, white wife-beater—the shirt he’d worn over the tank top was lying discarded in his floor.

The television grew lower in volume as he crossed the short distance between his bedroom, the hall of his flat, and its kitchen, yet he could still hear it humming as he came to the refrigerator. He opened the door, taking no time to peruse its contents before he reached in and grasped a can of some popular energy drink. Twisting his twist he separated it from its brethren and shut the door. He placed the cold can on the counter and moved to open a cupboard about it. He pulled down a bag of chips. They were quick, easy; a perfect near midnight snack. He separated the seams of the bag and extracted a chip which he promptly popped into his mouth. He then opened the can and took a sip of the tangy, sweet liquid.

He needed a short break anyway, he decided and leaned against the counter, eating his chips and taking sips from the energy drink. He was absolutely unaware that this wasn’t to be a normal, relaxing night in his new flat. His almost peaceful return to Gotham was about be shattered.

[blackmask]

Roman still wasn't sure how Arkham's boy was able to screw up the hit he had placed. And at the moment he didn't care how. Right now he just wanted to get his revenge. He was currently sitting in the back of a plain white van, he had brought five of his men with him. Not that he needed their help for what he was going to do. But it didn't hurt to have them around if things got dicey. And one of them needed to drive the van. He was wearing a white dress shirt under a black suit with matching pants, dress shoes, along with a matching black neck tie. A business suit.. Perfect for what he was going to do.

He looked at each of them one by one. They were all armed with military grade weapons. AK-47s mostly. One was carrying a G36. Roman himself was armed with his two trusty 1911 .45s But in order to get past the lock that was likely to be on the door he had brought a SPAS-12 shotgun. He looked at the men one more time before giving a nod... It was time to begin.

The back of the van flew open and the armed men got out with a cold purpose behind their movements. They calmly walked towards the front door of the building. Roman pushed the door open and stored in pumping the shotgun. No one really noticed. After all it was just five men entering the building.. There wasn't anything too out of place about that. It wasn't until he waved his hand and the men opened fire in the lobby that anyone truly realized what had happened. The initial reaction was one of disbelief. And that was to be expected... After all it was natural for a human do deny something. It was something of a survival instinct. But it didn't help when it was against someone firing an assault rifle at you.

The men didn't slow down. Then moved to the elevator and got in. As the doors closed he took a look at the lobby and grinned. It was a good way to make an entrance. And it was only the beginning of what he was going to do tonight.

When they finally reached the floor their target was on the men stepped off the elevator as calmly as they had entered the building. Roman looked down both ends of the hall and didn't seen anyone else. He brought his hand up in a fist to stop his men. He turned around and looked at them. "If anyone comes out take care of them." He said before moving down to the door that led to his target. He took a step back and aimed his shotgun at the lock..... And fired. Then in rapid succession he fired two more shots into the hinges and kicked the door down. He entered the room and quickly looked around shotgun at the ready for anything unexpected. He moved in until he found Nathaniel Arkahm. "Knock knock!" He shouted as he advanced towards Arkham.... He was going to enjoy this.

[Deleted]

When it all came down to it, Nathaniel had to give Roman, credit; his gathering was flawless. The young man was none the wiser as he lounged against the counter that at that very moment Black Mask and a number of his men had infiltrated the building and were poised to attack, linger at his door like wolves at the scent of a bleeding, wounded, fresh meal.

Unfortunate for them he was no mere mammal. He was hardly defenseless.

He could be surprised, however, despite it being Gotham, who truly expected their door to be shot down? At the first blast he jolted, back digging into the counter as his eyes snapped to the door. Disbelief and denial—the body’s first defense. It freezes up momentarily as if it had been the assaulted object. He felt the tightening of his every muscle, the hammering in his heart as he focused on that door. Yet for the shock wore off quickly. He dropped his drink on the counter, scrambling into his drawers as the second and third shots pierced the silence between them.

He physically startled with each blast, mouth dry, and his pulse picking up speed in his anxiety. It was heavenly. Exhilirating. Yet he could take it, it kept his mind clear to whip around at the thud of the door hitting the floor and the sound of footsteps pattering over the object.

He slipped the knife he’d managed to snatch sheath and all into the back of his jeans when Roman rounded the corner. Nathaniel glanced from the shotgun in his hand to his corpse-like face—black like death.

“Knock, knock.”

Nathaniel raised a brow, arms coming to brace behind him on the smooth counter corners, as Black Mask strode forward, target obviously him. He took a deep breath.

“I hope you plan to pay for that door.” He commented levelly.

Nathaniel Arkham could guess what brought him here—it wasn’t everyday a guy stopped a hit—but it was Gotham, that happened often, and he’d been “entertaining” someone of such import that a hit had been possible, but it appeared now all the pieces were together. He’d been wondering who’d ordered the assassination. He didn’t regret what he’d done, not even now that he knew the figurehead behind it. A bad was a bad shot.

The guy was good, but Nathaniel had been better.

[blackmask]

Roman laughed at the man. "I was gonna try and talk." He said darkly. "But just for that comment I'm gonna spread your brains all across the wall!" He shouted. He pumped the shotgun and took a step towards Arkham. Then pulled the trigger...... Click. Somehow Roman had lost count of how many shots he had. But that didn't matter. He had another better way to get back at the punk.

He dropped the shotgun and shrugged. "I guess I'll do some talking then." He said as he pulled out a switchblade. "You do realize you screwed over one of my hits." He growled as he flicked the blade out. "Now you have to pay for it. And I doubt you have anything that I could use." He looked at the blade. "So I'll just exact my own payment." He said before thrusting the knife towards Arkham's neck.

[Deleted]

His face, which had been stoic threatened to become an amused sneer. He could feel his lips beginning to quiver at the corners, the beginning quirk to his lips pulling, but then his chest constricted, his heart stuttered as the shotgun was loudly pumped. Every nerve in his body was on fire and his eyes began locked on Roman’s. He didn’t move, but his heart was racing and it was almost…no it was euphoric. He locked eyes with Roman.

Click.

His chest had heaved at that, breath locking for a moment as his brain snapped to attention. He’d really tried to shoot him. He’d tried and…it…it hadn’t worked. He lowered his head and peered up at the skull-faced man from beneath his brow. His mouth stretched into a smirk. He’d faced death and here he stood, still breathing. He couldn’t even describe that rush.

“So that was your man?” He spoke finally, voice light. “Makes sense…you need to get better help, then. He’s kinda…dead, but you would know that.” His eyes scanned over the switchblade as it caught the lighting in his kitchen. He scoffed and then Roman was rushing at him.

Nathaniel leaned his weight onto his forearms. He lifted himself and swung his legs out towards Roman’s chest. Come at him with a switchblade. The body was just a effective a weapon at times, and especially at times like these.

[blackmask]

Roman completely ignored Arkham's comments about the failed hit. He wasn't here to talk to pretty boy here. He was here to kill the bastard. When he didn't feel the blade cut flesh he quickly flipped it around in his hand and tried to drive it into the man's back. As he did this he also brought his knee up to hit the man in the stomach in order to cause the man to bend over making it easier to stab him in the back.

Meanwhile the men Roman had left outside were spreading out in order to better cover the hall. They ran into nearby rooms to set up positions in order to shoot at any officers who would show up outside. While others blocked the stairs leaving the elevators open. Being stuck in a closed space like an elevator wasn't a good thing when it involved being shot at by men with automatic rifles.

[Deleted]

Nathaniel didn’t have eyes for any other men, he had awareness, but his main focus was the head of the snake that was before him. He wasn’t in the mood for much small talk either, but if that kept Roman distracted and bought him time, who was he to deny it? He was just trying to survive. So far he’d succeeded. The blade hadn’t cut him, but then came the knee. Nathaniel attempted to dodge the blow, but it clipped him in the side. He fell against the counter, managing to catch himself before he whipped back to face Roman.

He pulled the knife he’d pilfered from his own kitchen drawer from the back of his pants and faced Black Mask, all aloof manner gone. He turned the blade and his eyes met the others. He lifted his free wrist and then he pounced aiming to stab the man in the stomach and if not that, his other hand was clenched to sock him across the jaw.

[blackmask]

Roman managed to stop his blade before it struck his own knee when Arkham moved. He quickly flipped the blade back over in his hand keeping it pointed at his opponent and out where it could be seen. He was going to get this guy even if it was the last thing he did. When he saw the other man pull a blade out he grinned a feral grin. Now the fight was getting good.

When Nathaniel struck Roman simply reacted by windmilling his right arm and striking the man's wrist knocking his arm aside. He began to get ready and stab at Arkham's stomach but quickly changed his movement when he noticed the fist coming toward his jaw. Roman began to duck but felt it clip the top of his head. As he head rocked to the side he brought his foot up in an attempt to kick Arkham in the ribs before thrusting his blade towards the man's neck. Roman could feel his blood pumping and knew that there was no stopping him now.

[Deleted]

Nathaniel held the opposite sentiment. He was going to get away from this man and his petulant notion of revenge even if he had to endure severe injuries to do it. He met his feral grin, and Nathaniel let his brows raise and his own mouth twitch into a daring smile, but the expression was quick before he’d acted.

He wanted rid of this man, wanted him out of his hair. He wanted to go back to his evening and this man was just a nuisance, a guy who apparently hired rather incompetent hitmen. So when his hand holding the blade was knocked aside, he was not pleased, but he kept his grip on the handle tight; he wasn’t losing the knife. Yet the clip to the man’s blacked head satisfied him enough to take the hottest edge off. Yet he knew the game was just beginning with this guy. He couldn’t dodge both stab and blow to the ribs, so he tensed his abdominals, leaned back and took the foot to the chest. It was hard enough to send him to the floor and knock his breath out. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe!

It was euphoric to feel the way his body began to panic. His heart slamming, his sympathetic nervous system sending out chemicals to cause such a reaction. They were all reactions he knew well. His breath, was quick, his mouth going dry. He felt like he could stop breathing at any moment. Euphoria. He leaned his head back and let out a choked laugh and tried to grasp on to the feeling of his fear rising to the surface as he peered up at Roman. He was going to be bruised from that hit, but it was worth it. He almost wanted to thank Roman, but first he needed to finish this ridiculous business. That meant he needed to get up or bring Roman to his level. He liked that second option.

He had a leaner figure than his father. He had a pair of strong legs, which as he smirked up at Roman, not even feeling afraid of that grisly blade, he bent his legs at the knees and aimed for Roman’s own knees. An old-fashioned fight on the floor. Maybe it was a dirty tactic, but he knew neither of them were playing fair.

[blackmask]

Roman watched the man fall to the ground and stretched his neck as he looked down on the boy. This was going to be faster then he thought it would. He'd be out of here before the police got here. And speaking of the police he could hear their sirens in the distance. He would know when they showed up because his men would open fire on them when they arrived. If they didn't then they would have some answering to do.

He took a few steps towards the man laying on the ground and rolled the knife around in his hand. He was about to kick him to drive the point home when suddenly he was kicked in the knee. He fell to the ground with a grunt and snapped a glare at him. He knew where this was going and he was going to have to finish this before this man got the upper hand. He tried to drive the knife down into the man's chest hoping to drive the knife between his rib cage. Part of Roman was hoping that his knife would drive hom. But another part of him wanted it to miss so the fight could drag on for just a while longer.

[Deleted]

Nathaniel could hear the sirens as well, and he either wanted Black Mask gone or to keep him occupied until the police got there. But being honest with himself, he wanted him gone, he wanted his men gone. He sneered as the man toppled to the floor, uncaring of his glare. He reached out his hands to snatch the wrist to stop the blade’s descent. All the while he tried to put even more weight behind the push to knock him onto his back.

He grunted. “You play unfair, you know that? Coming at a guy without a knife,” he grit his teeth. “You should take your ugly, death-availing face and get out of here before those cops show up…or better yet, Batman.” He tried to kick at him. “Bet he’d love to drag you back to Arkham or Blackgate, or wherever is it you’re supposed to go. Bet it’d be like a homecoming, hm, Mask?” He smirked.

“Oh and while you’re there…You should get some better help. Maybe they’ll be better shots.” He chuckled.

[blackmask]

Roman heard the sirens and knew that he had to finish this now. He placed his left hand on his wrist in an effort to overpower Arkham and thrust the blade into his neck. It didn't seem like he was making any more headway. As this was happening the sounds of gunfire erupted as his men opened fire on the officers that had arrived. He looked over his shoulder towards the door to make sure that there was no one entering the room.

He knew that if this wasn't going to work then he would simply use one of his guns. He had to finish this before things got to close for comfort.

[Deleted]

He felt the hot rush of blood seeping from his neck. It wasn’t a deep wound, not shallow either, but luckily enough it wasn’t fatal. He was able to deflect the other’s wrist enough that the blade missed its intended target. He continued to hold his wrist to keep him from attempting it again and he watched for any opening and then it came. He looked away. Nathaniel grabbed his shoulder and attempted to push him to the ground.

“You want to get caught, I’ll keep you here. Otherwise I’d run if I was you. I have a fire escape.” He told him gruffly. "Take it or leave it. Your choice, Roman.”

[blackmask]

Roman didn't expect to be suddenly thrown off his feet he lost his grip on his knife and heard it fall to the ground. He looked at the man and listened to his taunt. Roman had enough of this. He calmly got back up on his feet and glared at the man. "I think I should be offering you a way out." He said reaching up and taking his pistol out and pointing it at Arkham.

"Now you wanna keep fighting or you wanna end this now and easily?" He asked in a mocking tone. The whole while he could hear more sounds of gunfire. Clearly his men wouldn't be able to keep the police away any longer. He glared at Arkham and pulled the hammer back on his pistol. It was now or never. Once he heard the gunfire getting closer he took one last look at the window before looking back and preparing to fire the pistol.

[Deleted]

Nathaniel stared at the gun, eyes locked on the way the light shone off it. In that moment he could almost taste the gunpowder on his tongue, feel his mouth filling with the taste of pennies. He ran a hand through his hair as unfazed by the gun. The truth, of course, was he wasn’t unfazed. His heart was slamming against his chest and the gesture had been an attempt to keep his mind on the plane he was currently living in in reality where another man was very adamant on shooting him.

Nathaniel didn’t doubt his conviction, but he did know that he wasn’t thinking straight. He was excited and just wanted Roman to pull the trigger.

“You’ll not get out without being captured now,” he responded blandly as if just shooting off a common fact. “You waited too long now. Shooting me won’t solve your problems, it’ll make them worse.” His flickered from the hammer being pulled back, his nostrils flared and everything seemed to fall away except his voice. “So you tell me, do you want to keep fighting vainly thinking you’ll actually get away or we can do this the easy way.” He sighed. “I’m really trying to help you now. Make this easier on yourself.”