Daredevil: Defender Of Hell's Kitchen - Volume One: Heightened Terror

Chapter Five: Heightened Terror Pt. 5

"The Kitchen is mine," I say menacingly, getting the attention of two low level thugs. Henchmen for two different crime bosses, apparently. The jumpy criminal working for a boss calling himself 'The King'pin, Patrick, moves his gun from the other guy, Derrick, and points it at me.

"Who are you?" He asks, shakily. His index finger is seconds away from pulling the trigger. I lower my head to conceal my identity.

Derrick turns to face me. "Some costumed freak who clearly forgot the tights at home. Judging by the sticks, you've gotta be Daredevil."

"The batons were the only giveaway? You guys aren't really that smart, are you?" I smirk, throwing one baton at Derrick's face. He can't even react before it hits his nose, breaking it instantly and knocking him to the ground. His finger accidentally pulls the trigger of his self-modified magnum.

"Y-You're dead, Daredevil!" Patrick shouts, firing a few shots from his pistol at me. I jump out of the way, bouncing off a nearby wall as leverage to deliver a sucker punch. Patrick stumbles back, accidentally dropping his gun before falling on his ass.

"Which one of you can tell me about Stilt-Man?" I ask, picking my baton back up and spinning it around, menacingly. "I wanna catch him before he just become a pain in the ass, like always."

Instead of answering, Derrick raises his gun at my chest and tries to pull the trigger. Before he can, however, I swing my baton and it hits his hand. "You bastard!" He grunts, as the magnum leaves his grasp.

"I'll break your hand next time you try something, Derrick," I say, impatiently. His heart rate increases after I mention his name.

"A-Are you a psychic?" He asks me, suddenly concerned.

"If I was a psychic, then I wouldn't have to ask about Stilt-Man. I would've just read your mind or whatever and be on my way. Now, what can you tell me?"

"Nothing. That freak's not my turf, DD. He's yours," He replies, truthfully. I lean over him to scare him a little.

"I appreciate the honesty, but one of your bosses paid his bail and has plans for him. You'd make my job a whole lot easier if you could tell me something useful."

Patrick's breathing grows sharper, so I move past Derrick and approach him slowly. He tries to pick himself up, but slips on the pavement. Gasping, he begins to backup as fast as he can.

"So, Patrick," I begin, now standing in front of the lanky man. I lean over and grip his left arm, the dominant one, and begin applying pressure to it. He begins to squirm. "What do you know? If you don't start talking—"

"The Kingpin's the one that freed him!" He begins to panic. "I'm not even one of his enforcers, so I don't know much. J-Just rumours...Word has it, though, he's sending Stilt-Man on the Big Man's East End warehouse! To clean it out, sever Big Man's only tie to Hell's Kitchen."

"Asshole," Derrick whispers. I swing my baton at his head, knocking him unconscious.

"Is that it? Do you know when this is happening or anything like that?" I ask Patrick. He shakes his head. "Well, thanks. At least I've got a lead now."

"Please don't hurt me..." He cries. I shake my head, before bringing my knee to his face. He lets out a strange cough before also drifting unconscious. I form my batons back into my cane and walk back over to the bathroom window, climbing through it again.

Putting my jacket and glasses back on, I tie my tie around my collar and leave the bathroom. "Sorry, I really had to go," I say to Karen and Foggy. Karen nods, understandably but Foggy sighs under his breath and shakes his head.