Another type of justice (closed)
The screams could be heard down the water front, but since no one ever came into this territory, the figure wasn't afraid. He knelt over one of Merlyn's men and it was this man, a figurehead of the community, a man who washed his hands in the blood of the innocent, a man who was on the Archer's list, from whom the screams came. But far from failing the city, he had another, worse crime for which the figure was making him pay. He'd made a deal, and then tried to welch on it.
"John, John, john, You shoul'a known, we keep records." The figure laughed, sinister and loud. "You can' jus' make a deal an' walk away." The figure had a hand in John's chest, but there was no blood. "The more you figh' the worse it will be."
He could feel the presence of the vigilante, but other than turning his head, he made no other move. He could see the archer, arrow on the string, pointed, he assumed at him. "Stay outta' this Archer, he's my legal prey."
The eyes that met the vigilante's were black without iris or pupil. And there was no trace of fear. In fact, the only emotion was a look of bored disgust on his face.
