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Central Park was all but abandoned- it tended to clear out of most people once the darkness fell. Even in a lovely place like Manhattan, there were places that most people didn't go at night- Central Park tended to be one of those places. However, recently, there have been a string of attacks. Attacks that left people crippled, shrieking in terror. Some are almost catatonic- the only thing is that all the victims are criminals. Known muggers and bad-men who often haunt Central Park. The attacks always seem to happen after midnight- and always in the secluded bits of the park that bad men seem to think are safe for their like. Predators… being prayed upon, it seems, by someone who has no problem leaving such people in the hospital.
*
Captain America had these attacks brought to his attention recently by some of his friends at the Police Station. He has taken more to patrolling the streets lately. There seemed to be a lull for him lately and he couldn't handle not having a mission. This way he always had a mission. Earlier he drove out into the park without his costume in order to set up camp. Then, he took his shield from his artist's bag and his costume from his backpack. Yet, instead of the normal red white and blue costume, he's outfitted in a darker shade of blue with silver trim in order to be more concealed. Speaking of concealed, he's hiding out in a small forested area.
*
*
A small gang of young adults- probably in their 20's- isn't so far from Captain America. They're standing in the sputtering light offered by a malfunctioning park lamp. Laughing. Drinking. Smoking weed. One turns, and on the back of his leather jacket there's a symbol- a Laughing Devil. These men are part of a particularly violent street gang- the sort who cause trouble for the sake of causing trouble. Murder. Rape. Chaos- whatever they want. "So, this is the spot, right?" One of them says, "Yeah- this is where Charlie said he got jumped by some n*gger in a leather jacket."
"Charlie got really fucked up by this guy. Having nightmares and shit- he won't even leave his apartment no more. He's terrified, man. Like, really fucked up." Said a third man, before the first replies. "Well, don't matter. There are four of us- and one of him. If he comes back tonight, we'll teach him a lesson he won't forget."
That's when Cap feels it. Somewhere, out there in the darkness- something bad. Something dark. Something that's hungry. Its a metaphysical punch to the gut- and its only felt a minute before someone is running out of the darkness opposite of Cap's hiding spot and jumps into the group without a care for personal safety. A fist falls- a crunch is heard. Broken ribs, as the biggest of the four punks stumbles back and falls in a slump- One punch.
In the sputtering light now stands Zed- dark hair. His eyes like portals to the void. "You punks looking for me?" Comes a gravelly voice. Cap might notice the army crest on Zed's shirt- an Army Ranger. "I intend to make every Screaming Devil scream for their mothers." says the black man. "So. Come and get it, you scumbags."
*
Captain America is not beyond a good butt kicking for these types of men, so as the group congregates he finds himself with some difficulty in feeling sorry for them. But as Zed appears, that growing pang of emptiness in his gut has him conflicted. Either way, no one should end up crippled. These people deserve justice. He stalks out from behind the trees slowly—a perfectly painted shield out in front of him (he's an artist, right?) as he steps closer to the brawl, still unsure over what side he should really be on here.
*
"Get'em!" The men all shout, some pulling out knives- the others with tire irons and chains. Easily hidden weapons in their jackets. THUD! They all attack Zed- and he just stands, fists balled at his side as one of them takes a swing with the tire iron- striking Zed across the jaw. Zed's head is flung to the side- but he doesn't go down, and the ringing of the tire iron is as if it hit solid steel. "You men are guilty. The enforcers. It took a few weeks to get you here- but you're the ones who get sent in when the other Devil's aren't good enough." he says as the men hesitate.
"Come on. Try again." Zed says, looking over towards Captain America. He notices. He recognizes. That moment- eyes meeting eyes. There it is again- that *something* about Zed. That darkness… That's when the man with the knife screams, runs forward and stabs Zed in the neck. Or, at least, he tries to stab Zed in the neck- the knife doesn't even break his skin, before it bends and snaps under the hard strike. The three remaining men suddenly look afraid.
Zed moves then. The sure movements of a special operations operative- first a kick. The man with the knife's knee caves in and screaming, he falls to the ground- "MY LEG!" Next, a joint lock on the man with the tire iron. Snap. An arm broken. He won't be swinging tire irons ever again. The final man, Zed grabs and lifts with such ease that its obvious he's got great strength. The man swings the chain- just beating and punching and screaming as he tries to injure Zed. Nothing. He's not being hurt.
*
Once he finally gets close enough, the Captain stares at Zed. "Are you the one whose been crippling these men?" he asks loudly as all around him these gang members are falling. He's hit by an uncharacteristic moment of indecision. Finally, he decides, and though he doesn't feel one hundred percent over it, he does believe that if he doesn't intervene, someone might die. "I think this is good enough," Steve says, holding his shield up and staring Zed down warily.
*
Zed looks over to Steve. Looks back to the man- who's now holding bare hands on Zed's shuddering and screaming. He leans close and takes a deep breath- there's a flash of blue light as the punk in Zed's hands goes stiff- eyes wide as he shakes and starts to cry. Its only a momentary flash- before he drops the punk down. The punk curls up into the fetal position, and is rocking as if something terrible had happened. And, indeed, something terrible had happened. A part of his very soul had been ripped away. "Maybe. As long as they stay scared." Zed says down to the punks below. "You remember what I did here to you- and to your friend." he continues, "And thank your lucky stars that a Hero appeared when he did. I was going to hurt you a whole hell of a lot more. A bone broken for every murder, rape, theft, and crime you've ever committed."
Zed's hands go into his jacket, and he pulls out a cigarette pack. Soft sided, the cigarettes are a little misshapen. He pulls one out, and offers the pack over to Steve quietly. "Cigarette?"
*
Slowly the shield comes down as Steve drops his elbow. "Thank you. I don't like what these men are accused of, and to be honest, they're probably pretty gosh darn guilty. That being said, it's for the police and the courts. Not us." As the cigarette is offered to him, he gives a quick shake of his head. "Thank you, but I don't smoke."
*
"Its my place." Zed says simply. "I teach lessons." he explains, as he lights up. He inhales, a slow moment in the guttering, sputtering light. His eyes have gone completely black since he did whatever it is he did to the men. He reaches into his other jacket pocket and offers a bunch of photographs to Steve. "I make sure they're guilty before the lesson comes. See- prison or no, each of these idiots is going to stay scared. They're going to really think before they do what they've been doing." he explains, "That's what monsters are for. They teach lessons."
Zed turns then, and slowly begins to walk into the night again. The photographs? Those men, on the ground, committing various crimes. Zed's been watching them for a while, it seems. People left bloody. People left dead, sometimes. On the back of each photograph- details. Names. Addresses. Shorthand typically used in Special Forces Army details. "You want to take a walk?" he asks over to Captain America. "I'm not going to be here when the cops eventually show."
*
Steve eyes the photographs and then looks up towards Zed. He doesn't move. Not yet, but he seems troubled by them. "Did you take these?" he asks. Slowly he begins to walk after Zed, clearly frustrated as he takes another look at the pictures.
*
"Yes." Zed replies. "I learned how to keep to the shadows for missions." he explains, "Between Korea and Vietnam, I did a lot of hiding in the shadows to get work done for Uncle Sam. The sort where you just sit there and take pictures while bad things happen to innocent people." Zed continues to walk, slowly, as he smokes his cigarette. "See, these idiots have been arrested before. They always seem to manage to weasel out of it. Maybe a little jail time, usually probation. Probably, because they do their worst in places like Mutant Town. Unfortunately for them, I got a lesson to teach. See, Tea and I, well. We've got an agreement. We need to eat- but I get to decide who and how much. So, I've been drinking the souls of scumbags like The Screaming Devils, and generally causing them a lot of pain. The kind of pain that never really goes away. The sort of thing that reminds you, every day, what you did to deserve getting your knee broken, or your collarbone shattered, or your elbow torn to shit." Zed looks back to Steve, "But I don't kill them. Its better that they live. That they spread the story."
*
Steve follows along Zed's side with a quizzical look. "I meet all sorts of vigilantes who believe they are above the law. That's not something I really understand or can get behind." He stops, unable to get away from the idea of these pictures. "If you were able to take the pictures, wouldn't you have been able to save the people…the victims of what happened?""And who is Tea?"
*
"I'm not above the law, Cap." Zed replies simply. "I'm part of an ancient law. Tea- Tiamat. Ate my soul. Mother of Monsters, and now she lives where my soul used to be." he offers over, caviler about his state. "That's probably why you're getting the heebyjeebies with me around. A feeling that I'm just wrong?" he asks, looking over to Steve with a dark, if knowing smile. "I don't care about the individual victims." he replies then, "Humanity as a whole is what is important. Reminding them of the lessons taught by our.. Tea's Children." he continues, "Justice, Cap. Justice is the lesson. That Justice can't be escaped. That sometimes there is No Justice. Both are lessons that have been forgotten. I tend to focus on the former, though, despite Tea's desire for me to go find some poor idiot who's the victim of a crime and further victimize them. That isn't my style."
*
Clearly this guy is insane. Insane and powerful. Steve eyes him and nods slowly, realizing that if knives and punches do no damage, it's unlikely that he could force him into getting help. Still, getting help is clearly what this guy needs. "Have you told a lot of people about this Tia? What other things does she have you do?"
*
"Tea." Zed corrects Steve quietly, "Just what's his name. Strange. Yeah, Sorcerer. Nice guy." he says as he leads Steve to a wall- "This is where I need to go." he says as he looks again to the wall, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of chalk. He kneels low and draws a line- then a corner.. another line. Finally, it comes to look like a door.
Zed balls his hand into a fist, and knocks on the wall three times. At first- nothing. Then, the lines of the chalk start to glow and glisten and soon the wall fades and beyond lies the Astral Plane, open for Steve to see. "I'll see you around, Cap. I got the feeling it'll be soon enough. Oh, and the name's Zed." he says, as he offers a salute to the Captain- a truly respectful one. He then steps into the portal which closes soon after him, returning to solid wall.
*
Steve watches the portal with wide eyes and then…nothing. He looks around at the quiet night and can still hear the moaning of the men in the background. It's the chill that gets him…something is very, very wrong about that mutant. And he is, most certifiably, completely insane.