Obligatory Disclaimer : I do not own anything (except maybe OC characters) all characters, places, worlds, universes…etc mentioned here belong to their respective owners and/or companies.

This is purely a work of fiction. Not meant to offend or incite, but to entertain and (maybe) inspire.

DRIVEN

"Don't kiss the chef please."—The Waiter

Amelia peered through her binoculars, watching Daken as he moved with the crowd, blending into their numbers, weaving within them like a fish in water.

Today was turning out to be a bad day for Melinda, she’d woken late for work next to her still drunk husband, who, she assumed, would make another excuse not to go to work today again. The morning rush hour made walking the best option, she wasn’t alone in that thought, it showed by just how many people trod the sidewalk.

She slapped away hands that tried reaching into her pockets or groping her rear, sending insults their way as she kept walking. This was Lowtown, the authorities were as filthy as the criminals they enabled.

She saw him again, the stalker, the man who’d been following her for weeks now. She had seen him at her window once or twice, calling her husband to check it out resulted in her being termed crazy for hallucinating. She had spotted him at her stop, she had spotted him at her workplace, she had spotted him in places that he had no reason being in. Yet try as she might to draw attention to his presence, none would take notice.

They wouldn’t believe that the man even existed. She would’ve preferred to stay and hide at home, but who would put food on the table for her and her growing children. She had to weather it, hoping that he would grow tired of following her.

He wouldn’t of course. She, like the others before her, was now his prey. He would hunt her, tire her out, until she surrendered herself to him, then and only then would he sacrifice her, freeing her beautiful soul of the extreme pain that was life.

“Alexey.” Said someone, draping an arm over his shoulder. Melinda held her bag tighter, if her stalker had a partner, it would only be a matter of time before they did whatever they planned to her

“Who--!” The man perked at the intrusion of his personal privacy, the words on his lips were frozen at the piercing, cold pain in his side. He looked down, seeing a dagger’s metal length swiftly and repeatedly dig into his lungs, stomach and abdomen, accurately cutting through his organs.

“Bob sends his regards.” Melinda’s eyes widened at the name, it was her husband’s.

“H-hel cough!” His attempt at shouting for aid was foiled by the pain and the blood rising in his throat. Melinda cupped her hands over her mouth as she watched her stalker fall to the cracked pavement, blood spreading over his clothes from the gruesome wounds.

She met the demon’s face, those eyes that threatened to cut through her very soul made her knees weak. The grinning snarl of the mask on his face was the last she saw of him as he ghosted away into the crowd of people that gathered around the bleeding out man.

Amelia scored a red dot on Alexey’s folder, confirming it done. She then brought up the next one on the piled list. Today was going to be another eventful day.

…

Daken pulled off his red faced oni mask, hanging it on the dresser shelf. He unclasped his knives, sword and chainsaw, placing them on the rack after making sure they were well cleaned. He unholstered the twin pistols and machine guns strapped to his side and low back, inspecting the weapons and nodding at their maintenance as he fastened them to the holder. He unzipped his armored vest, brushing away the blood flakes and dirt on it and then hanging it on the hanger. He pried off his boots, brushing and polishing them till they shined and then placed them beneath the vest. He removed his fitting, gray camo pants and black long sleeve shirt, putting them in a basket meant for the washer.

He sat down by the bedside and brought up his phone, firstly checking his bank account, “$121,049,000” He whistled at his balance. He was a multi-millionaire, earning this much after six months of intensive missions.

Yet as he sat by the bedside, the hardwood against his back and the ceiling fan slowly rotating with a weeng, weeng, weeng, sound. It was resoundingly clear to Daken that this had run its course. Not the killing, no, he had simply outgrown Lowtown, Madripoor. He needed something more challenging, he needed a greater playground.

Daken wanted more. More than just the monotonous day to day murder. He wanted thrilling and exciting undertakings. He wanted life threatening quests. Daken wanted more than Madripoor could now offer him. It was time to head out to the wider world. There were places to see, treasures to find, gods to slaughter, people to kill, items to steal.

Talking of stealing. Daken dialed a number and put the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” Said a tired voice.

“Bob, buddy, where’s my Hydra files?” Daken laughed without humor.

“Oh shit!” There was a crash as though something or someone had fallen. “I’m sorry Mr. Daken Sir, I was hungover—uh—I mean sleeping and forgot to send them, which I’ll do right away.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Oh, and, uh, thanks for handling that for me.”

“I didn’t do it for free Bob, you’re just paying me in information instead of cash.”

“No, I know but I still can’t help but feel like you did me a favor. I don’t think those files were enough to cover a quarter of your fees.” They weren’t, but Daken required the documents for a larger purpose.

“Goodnight Bob, and stop being such a deadbeat dad.”

“Goodnight Mr. Daken sir.”

An encrypted pdf attachment came through the mail seconds later. Daken typed in the password and scanned through the files, his photographic memory and increased intellect allowing him to breeze through the hefty document. A smile spread across his face, he now had a location and the necessary access codes, all that remained was transportation.

Daken accessed the dark site on his phone, connecting to a vendor he’d been acquainted with.

D: Placing an order for item #N23J, #H85IM, #1098VIX and a custom order for a uniform. Images and specifications attached below: Deathstroke-with-oni-face.psd Specs.pdf

MT: Order received. Amount required $110,500,000. Deposit funds to process orders.

D: Funds deposited.

MT: Funds received. Order to be completed and delivered within 168 hours. Please type in your preferred delivery address.

D: #####--####--### LWTWN.

MT: Thank you for choosing Mad-Tinkerer™ services.

With a hefty chunk of his finances gone, he decided to reinvest in himself by calling up his favorite girls and having a relaxingly strenuous night`.

“Hey, do you want some dinner?” Amelia said, pushing his door open. She was in her matching red bra and panties, her most comfortable pair, she felt most relaxed at home with as little clothing as possible.

“My lady, songs will be written about the shape of your bum and the utter generosity of your outstanding bust.” Daken sang. “If you’re offering yourself up, I’d gladly indulge.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you sound.” Amelia shook her head at him.

“You’re so cold to me. Can I hold you for a bit to feel warm? I swear I won’t touch your boobs this time.”

“You do realize that I can see your fingers crossed, don’t you?”

“You are too smart for your own good lady.”

“I’ll set the table.” Amelia turned to leave.

“Can we talk for a moment.” Daken called, sounding uncharacteristically serious.

She sat opposite him on the floor, crossing her arms over her bust to hide it from his piercing gaze. An act to which he rolled his eyes at.

“I’ll tell it to you straight Amy, Madripoor isn’t cutting it for me anymore.” He said honestly. “I want something bigger, I can’t have it here.”

Amelia exhaled. “I expected it.” She said, Daken was too effective, too big a fish for just Madripoor, for just Lowtown. It was getting harder to find contracts that matched his status and skill level. He was just too good at what he did, in the six months since his arrival he had cemented himself as a legend, a myth even in some places, as the unstoppable operative who would complete a mission regardless of its parameters once he accepted it.

“When have you decided to leave?” She asked.

“In a week or less.” Daken said, having to wait for his equipment to be delivered in that timeframe.

“That seems a bit prompt.”

“I know.”

“I believe your choice to be a wise one. If you plan on growing and attaining an even greater reputation and status, then leaving the confines of Madripoor is a must. You’ve made your mark here already” She said, “Could I hire you then, before you leave?” She began.

“For a hit?”

“Yes, and a war.”

“On who?”

“The Viper.” Amelia stated. “Just as you, I too have ambitions of growth. The Viper and her gang oversee all crime in Lowtown, the proceeds and power gained, affords them a seat in High Town. Lowtown could be a better place in better hands, and offer the same profits that would still secure a seat of power in Hightown.”

“You want that seat Amy? Are those better hands yours?”

“Yes.” She answered both questions. She had tried to usurp the Viper’s rule once. It had ended tragically for all involved, but this time would be different, she had the Oni by her side.

“Good. When you're the boss of this place, make it not so much of a shithole.”

“I’ll do my best. Concerning your payment, I am willing to offer everything in my possession.” She gazed at his eyes, Daken understood the words unsaid.

“Shame on you lady, we’re friends, remember?”

“You’ll do it for free then?”

“What no, are you insane? Nothing comes for free, you taught me that. What would people say if they heard it even?” He faux shouted, holding his chest.

“Right.” She did, she wondered how much he’d ask.

“I’ll do it all for the price of a kiss or perhaps a firm handshake.” He laughed, making Amelia, for the first time in a long time, laugh along as well. Daken found her laughter warm, soft and cute, in contrast to her cold exterior.

“Thank you.” She said, leaning in.

“Thanks fam, but I get paid after the job’s done.” Daken said, leaning away with a snort.

“You are insufferable.”

“It’s a policy thing. Gotta maintain the brand.”

“Truly insufferable.” Amelia emphasized.

“Yes, well bring up their files, let’s get this done with before the week ends.”

*.*.