Red Moon

Blood Moon

Perched on the building, a figure dressed in white surveyed the building crowded area with a hawk-like gaze. The pair of binoculars she held focused on a specific building which held a flickering light within. The movement in the supposedly abandoned ware house confirmed what The Moon had already known. With a small, righteous smile, the vigilante jumped gracefully down, her grappling hook gun connecting with the edge of the ware house.

The already broken window, (shattered earlier purposely during the day while The Moon was in her civvies, after waiting for the guard to take his afternoon smoke at 11:15, giving her 20 minutes to break the glass and leave as quickly as she could) was waiting to be used as her means of entry. This night was a long time coming, long nights of planning went into this.

She snuck in silently, her boots barely making any noise. The men in the center of the ware house didn't notice her, continuing the drug trade. Moon had to hide the disgusted noise that rose in her throat. She knew these drugs were meant to circulate around the school yards of Gotham, around the orphanages and in the bad neighborhoods. Aiming for teens with extra work money they save from not having to pay for gas or rent. Drugs started out cheap, $20 a bag sometimes. But the bigger the fix the bigger the price, soon experimenting teens willing to give up allowances turn to desperate adults who are willing to do deplorable favors for the next dose. It truly was an awful situation.

The Moon crouched lower to the floor, behind several large, empty crates that smelled fish. It smelled awful, but the crates were dig enough to completely cover her form. She watched silently as the men (all at least six feet tall, all speaking a Slavic language) argued over something. Probably the price.

Her gloved hand gently pressed a button on the side of her goggles, which started to take a video of what was happening, should the inevitable fixed trial need a push in the right direction. Once the film was rolling, Moon activated the electric charge in her knuckles, belt, and boots. She gripped a baton in one hand and crouched low again to prepare to launch.

The drugs were displayed; money was exchanged; and a wicked smile crossed Moon's face with the knowledge that this evidence was irrefutable; and then-

A gunshot rang through the air.

It came from past the dealers, and they too turned to see the commotion. In shock and instinct, Moon rolled backwards, further into the shadows.

A new figure appeared. A brown leather jacket covered his charcoal grey body suit, a red full-face helmet and red bat on his chest told Moon who it was.

Red Hood. The most notorious anti-hero in Gotham. Like Batman, but willing to kill his opponents. Violently. There were so many rumors clouding around him. How he came from Crime Alley; and how he was associated with Batman; how he actually was Batman; how he was dead before; how he's not human anymore, if he ever was.

Moon cut the feed in her goggles. The jury won't need to see this.

In the Red Hood hands, he yielded two machine guns, both aimed at the group on men.

"Good evening, gentlemen!" The male vigilante shouted in mock joy.

Moon was shocked to hear the young voice. She was half expecting the gravelly voice of the Dark Knight, not ...this.

"Now, seeing as you are on my turf, with full intention of selling drugs to kids, I have decided to terminate this operation, and, by extension, you." He boasted loudly.

Moon sighed quietly. If this is a personal vendetta for Red Hood, she shouldn't get involved. Logic overruled justice right now. Justice and penitence would be brought by the Red Hood. This scum will receive what they deserve.