It was a quiet night in Hell's Kitchen, the moon casting a cold glow over the city. Two men were laughing just outside a large warehouse. Despite their carefree demeanor, they still had pistols tucked into their waistbands—
BANG!!
BANG!!
Before they could even think about any threats lurking in the dark, their heads were torn off by the blast of a revolver.
Blood, brain, and bone splattered across the pavement, the quiet night shattered by James' boiling fury. He walked past the now lifeless bodies, his gaze locked on the warehouse they were guarding.
With a violent shove, he slammed the door open, the bang echoing through the empty space. The lights flickered to life, sensing movement and revealing the contents of the warehouse.
Dozens of wooden crates lined the room. James stepped up to one and cracked it open.
Guns.
He moved onto the next crate, ammo, and lots of it.
Without hesitation, James reached into his inventory and pulled out a large can of gasoline. Recklessly, he began to douse everything, the liquid splashing with an aggressive hiss. The thick, sharp smell hit his nose, souring the air around him.
He didn't care.
The crates, the guns, the ammo—all of it was useless to him. His focus was elsewhere—on the heat, on the destruction.
It only took about a minute to completely douse everything valuable in the gasoline.
From his inventory, James pulled out a lighter.
He crouched down, flicking the cheap plastic lighter open with a snap.
Then he lowered it, and before he could even blink.
The flame caught.
He stood up, all too casually as flame licked at his boots.
Smoke curled up in lazy spirals, already thick in the air. The flames made themselves known with a large crack and roar.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He turned on his heel, heading for the warehouse door with an easy stride. The Malorian dropped back into his hand like it belonged there.
He figured maybe he might have missed someone on the way in. A guard, a straggler—nothing he couldn't handle.
Couldn't hurt to be safe.
He cracked the door open. Cold air rushed in, colliding with the heat behind him, feeding the blaze with a sudden whoosh. He stepped out without urgency, letting the door swing shut at his back.
Then he heard it.
A dull, heavy thud.
Distant but loud.
James blinked. Turned his head just slightly, scanning one end of the street. Nothing.
The roar of fire behind him was getting louder.
Then came another, still distant but heavier, closer. Like a wrecking ball dragging itself forward.
His grip tightened around the Malorian, the weight of the revolver suddenly more comforting than casual.
Then out of the mouth of a nearby alley came a man, stepping into the path of a streetlight.
He was shirtless—huge. Muscles bulged across his frame like coiled cables beneath his skin.
But that wasn't what caught James' attention.
What did was the man's skin.
It was grey, and rough, almost like concrete.
"What the hell?" James muttered, the gun in his hand almost warping under his suddenly tightened grip. But before James could process the other, enhanced? Mutant?
MISSION - Creel is Steel
Goal - Defeat Creel!
Rewards - MuscleFiber Synthetic Weave, 3500 EXP, 5000 Eddies.
Failure - Captured or Killed
His concrete fist sailed toward James' head—a blur of weight and violence.
James dashed wide-eyed to the side, a burst of motion carrying him far out of reach. The fist smashed into the warehouse wall behind him, punching clean through steel and brick like it was paper.
James skidded to a stop, boots scraping against the asphalt.
His arm raised, aiming centre mass.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
He let out three thunderous shots—each one landing clean.
But they didn't do much. Just tiny craters in that stone-plated chest, like he was chipping at a statue with a pocket knife.
Behind them, the fire in the warehouse roared louder—hungry, alive. Smoke poured through shattered windows, glowing orange from the inside.
Creel moved.
Concrete shattered beneath his feet as he launched forward, a human wrecking ball with no brakes.
James barely had time to react. He dashed again, sideways this time, a controlled burst that left a faint scorch on the pavement.
With another sudden dash, he blew past Creel, boots skimming the ground as he spun, facing Creel's flank.
Think. Adapt. Target the joints.
He fired again—this time low. Right knee.
BANG!
He pulled the trigger once more—nothing.
Out.
James slowly reloaded the Malorian, deliberately casual, eyes locked on the man like he was daring him to move.
Then his gaze flicked back to the warehouse.
The inferno was out of control now—flames clawing through the roof, smoke billowing thick into the sky. Sirens wouldn't be far off.
And then he remembered the ammo.
All those crates.
All that heat.
A glint sparked in his eye.
James holstered the Malorian, nice and slow.
Then he turned and ran—not away, but toward the warehouse.
Creel followed without hesitation, heavy footsteps pounding against the ground like a war drum.
James could feel the heat intensifying as he crossed the threshold. The interior was a blazing hellscape—rows of crates swallowed in fire, the heat clawing at his skin.
Flame licked at his skin, yet a grin raised to James face, only feeling the blood pumping through his veins.
He vaulted over a flaming table, ducked past a collapsing beam, and slid behind a half-melted forklift.
Then he stopped.
Waited.
Creel stomped through the doorway seconds later. He didn't slow down, not even looking mildly affected by the scorching heat. Just kept coming.
James suddenly darted left, back out of view, hugging the perimeter, keeping himself near the exit.
Creel's gaze darted around the warehouse, eyes scanning the smoke-filled chaos. The man was close, almost directly in front of the crate holding the ammo.
James grinned, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. He activated his Kerenzikov implant with a sharp whir. The booster kicked in automatically, his muscles humming with newfound speed.
Time stretched.
James crouched low, his body a coiled spring. The moment he saw Creel's back turn slightly, he launched himself forward.
A split-second burst—all in.
His legs shot out, and with a calculated snap of his body, he aimed a full-force dropkick straight into the back of Creel's wide muscled back.
This wasn't going to hurt the man, James knew that.
As his feet slammed into Creel's back, the enhanced man stumbled forward, crashing uncontrollably toward the crate.
But as James looked at the crate, that would,
James landed and, without a moment of hesitation, dashed for the exit.
Behind him, the unmistakable sound of Creel's massive body slamming into the crate rang out—an almost deafening crack.
The wooden structure shattered, and the crate split open, revealing the stockpiled ammo, now directly exposed to the roaring flames.
As the ammo spilled out, the flames licked at it with eager hunger.
The sound of a thousand tiny fires crackling together, growing louder by the second, filled the air. Then, with a sickening, thunderous whump, the first round of ammo went off. The chain reaction was immediate.
BOOOOOMMMM!!!
The blast tore through the warehouse, sending a shockwave of heat and debris in every direction. The building seemed to groan in protest before it erupted in a violent fireball, the very air distorting with the force of the explosion.
James had barely made it out of the building when the explosion rang out. But still the shockwave hit him like a brick wall. His body slammed into the ground outside, the world around him swallowed by a cloud of dust and rubble.
His shins screamed from the previous impact with Creel's back, his skin red raw with burns and his jacket scorched at the edges.
Yet he barely felt any of it, the adrenaline in his veins roaring in victory.
Shakily, he forced himself to his feet, barely able to see anything through the thick smoke that now choked the air. Sirens wailed in the distance, echoing through the streets of Hell's Kitchen, too loud to ignore.
But through the smoke, he could see the glow of the inferno, licking at the sky above, and for a brief second, a grin sparked at James' lips.
—-
Sorry for the lack of chapters! Should be back to the normal rate on Monday!
Not very happy with this chapter, just felt oddly forced, thoughts? I definitely didn't write Creel well, or use his powers to their full potential at all