Hellzone: Blood Moon (Moon Knight Solo)

[Rift]

New York City, The Big Apple, had finally rotted from the inside out. The government bigwigs wrote the city off, evacuated who they could, and left the rest to fend for themselves in a city gone mad. Gangs had taken over, criminals, thugs, and super villains who were splitting the city up like a giant piece of pie. The Green Goblin, Mister Negative, The Hood, a recently returned Kingpin of crime, and more acting like warlords and setting themselves up like lords within the hell they created. The street level heroes that stayed behind to protect their home and the people others wrote off were running ragged. Exhausted, low on supplies, and fighting back with next to nothing the ragtag group tasked with Defending the city were less like the brightly colored legends children idolize and more like feral cats, scurrying from place to place, eating what rats they could, but too sick to see the true threats around them as they ran themselves ragged.

For every victory the costumed warriors earned, they lost another as the gangs spread, gobbling up territory at a rapid place. Brooklyn however was another matter. Whispers spread among the gangs that something protected the streets, something that didn't restrain itself the way the new Defenders did. It started with the Goblin's thugs being put in traction and branded. It escalated to Inner Demons not reporting back to Negative. Hood's men, suspecting the cause ceased patrolling immediately.

The Whyos, an Irish gang that embraced stereotypes and whose allegiance shifted from one gang leader to another as offers to raise their status flooded in. It was the Whyos who walked down the streets, weapons in hand, cursing, doing their best impression of A Clockwork Orange fans all while looking for a victim. They found their prey in short order in the form of a group of homeless people huddled in an alleyway.



Before they could victimize anyone a shadow moved, leaping from a fire-escape . A flying dropkick later and one of the fashion challenged gangsters was incapacitated, his lungs punctured from his newly broken ribs. A figure in white moved like lightning, a discarded cudgel flying into another thug's nose, shattering it. Before the man could even register the pain he was thrown into the path of gunfire, the white clad vigilante using him as a human shield until he was able to disable two other gangsters. Dislocated knees, a shattered collarbone, and a knife turned back into an attackers gut later left the men disabled.

The Moon Knight, illuminated by the faint moonlight shining through the cloud cover, turned to the homeless, his voice gruff.

“Gena's Diner. Get there. Consider it a sanctuary. Spread the word to friends. You are all travelers in the night and thus under my protection. Go. Now.”

An elderly man with a dog asked, “What about them?”

Moon Knight cocked his head to one side as he observed the downed thugs.

“They are going to be my messengers. To the gangs, their leaders, and the Defenders,” Moon Knight replied. “My own personal billboard that shows what happens when you come to do evil here and to serve as an example so that maybe one of those fools realizes how this game is played.”

And to Moon Knight it was a game. Everyone else thought that Hell had descended upon New York, but to him it was just another day in the life of the Fist of Khonshu. The world thought things had fallen into madness, but Moon Knight knew better. It just showed them all what he already saw.

[Rift]

Moon Knight sent his message. The Whyos were nailed to a billboard touting Norman Osborn's Presidential run, each positioned in such a way as to resemble the shape of a crescent moon when observed from the ground. Word spread quickly among those who had chosen to stay amidst the chaos and the gangs alike. By now somebody was sure to have told that old newshound Jameson. Rumor had it he had stayed behind to fight for the integrity of the story, to not run away from his home, and to make sure that the Bugle remained unmolested by the criminals running the city. Someone certainly alerted the so-called Defenders, but they were so wrapped up containing the violence, barely squeaking by, that they'd not shown up to lodge a complaint about the Moon Knight's unique communication method.

The Whyos however didn't seem to get it through their thick skulls. Many of their compatriots were released from holding when the city started to go into panic mode and so, freshly armed with new high-tech weapons form some super villain cache they'd raided, the thugs crossed into the protected territory once more. This time instead of accosting the defenseless simply trying to survive the streets as they moved at night, they came in broad daylight to threaten Gena's diner. Gena and her son Ray course were on guard. Their friend millionaire Steven Grant had offered to move those seeking refuge in the cramped diner, taking them to his mansion uptown, a true defender of the people despite his wealth. Cabbie Jake Lockley however told her that his contacts had warned that the Whyos would be back and looking for revenge. So Ray, rifle in hand, peered out of the boarded over window as the gang approached.



Without warning a bright yellow cab roared down the street and directly into the group of thugs. Though a laser beam sheared off the roof it simply allowed the driver to exit more easily. Instead of Jake Lockley, Moon Knight emerged, crescent darts ripping into the gunmen's arms. With the men disarmed or otherwise unable to use their weapons the Moon Knight extended his quarter-staff and went to town. Each swing of the adamantium staff brought shouts of agony as jaws dislocated, knees turned to powder, and skulls cracked. In a matter of moments it was over and the men all lay prone or twitching. Some of the Whyos were marked, a brand from months ago, a crescent moon on their foreheads. The Moon Knight had dealt with some of them before, offering them a chance to clean up their act, in some cases several chances as denoted by the number of brands. This time the Fist of Khonshu was out of mercy...

[Rift]

Hours later...

The Angelwing flew across the New York skyline unmolested by the military helicopters that circled the city keeping tabs on things and tightening the net. Moon Knight however had zero intention of leaving the city. His business would however take him from one end of the rotten Big Apple to the other as he made deliveries. His first stop Fisk's tower. Whether or not the kingpin of crime was holed up within or not didn't matter as he would still receive the message. The first part of that message began with a pair of missiles launching from the Angelwing and through the protective glass of the top floor Fisk typically used as an office. Windows shattered, fire spread, and smoke rose from the makeshift entrance. Moon Knight, hanging from the rope ladder spotted nobody within despite knowing that security forces would be on their way. Lowering his cargo he tossed it, the broken and stuttering form of one of the Whyos, through the window and into the ruined interior.

And so it went from one place to another as the Moon Knight made late night deliveries like some kind of twisted stork. A Whyo and an Inner Demon stuffed into a car that was driven through a storefront used by Mister Negative, the dead body of another thug thrown through a skylight at one of Norman Osborn's homes, and another still nailed to the doorway of a known Hood lair. Each whether dead or still living had a message carved into them.

Those who prey on travelers in the night,
Who accost those that need defending,
That assault those who cannot find the path alone,
And who terrorize that which should be embraced,
All shall suffer the same fate.

A brand in the shape of a crescent moon had been burned into their stomachs as if to sign the work. For any who thought him dead there was now no doubt: Moon Knight had returned with a vengeance!

[Rift]

Moon Knight's impromptu message delivery seemed to have reached the right ears because for three solid days the human scum that haunted the streets stayed out of his territory. They clashed with the Defenders across town and with each other, but otherwise steered clear of Moon Knight and his friends. Which was why Marc was more irritated than normal at the news someone had been killed a mere block away from Gena's Diner.

When Crawley contacted him in regards to a dead body it was not Marc Spector nor the Fist of Khonshu who answered. Instead it was Mr. Knight who pulled up in his limousine and slick white suit. And it was Mr. Knight who saw the telltale signs of an animal attack on the body, noticed the heart missing as if torn out like a grotesque prize from the world's most hideous pinata. What he didn't see was the yellow eyes glowing from the shadows, watching his every move...

[Rift]

Mr. Knight set about investigating the scene as he normally would, the gang war raging around the city making it so that he had no interference from the police as was usually the case. Though he would have appreciated having the Detective Flint around to bounce ideas off of or if push came to shove as backup, it was a relief to not have to deal with the red tape that typically popped up in cases like this. Instead he was free to do as he needed, because everyone knew nobody else was going to. The cops, what little remained of the force anyway, was too busy trying to protect people. Much like the Defenders they were busy putting out fires, literal and metaphorical without actually tackling the problem head-on.

Despite the dark, this area of town having been without power since the onset of the gang war, Mr. Knight was more than able to make out what had happened. Someone or something had jumped the man, rushing him from behind. Damage done to the back of his legs indicated that they had sliced through his hamstrings to keep him from fleeing. From there they continued the attack from atop him, the man having no real chance to defend himself. Deep cuts indicated that it was several sharp implements used to inflict damage, but more likely claws of some sort. The suspicion he had about the instruments of death became a damn near likelihood as he examined the chest wound where something had torn the victim's heart out. A fine, almost unseen hair left in the cavity combined with there being no trace of the heart left cinched it.

Werewolf, he thought.

There had, sadly, been more than one attack of that nature in the last several days and they were not random acts of violence as one would have expected from a werewolf attack. All the victims were present at the Moon Knight's battles with the Whyos. This most recent man something of a leader among the homeless population who accepted Moon Knight's help against the gangs but wanted no part of the charity his allies were offering. He had claimed that if he could survive the jungles of 'Nam he could survive the concrete jungle that was NYC, even if it was more dangerous than normal.

And he probably could have had it not been a supernatural creature. Which begs the question...is it still here and is this payback for what Moon Knight did to the Whyos?

Mr. Knight knew that of all the gang leaders it was the Hood who had the deepest connection to the mystical side of things. Still, there was no telling who was responsible for this. The only thing he did know with certainty was that a werewolf, likely more than one, were being used as weapons. And if someone was trying to introduce magic into this gang war things were about to get a lot uglier than even the Defenders had seen so far. What they didn't count on however was Mr. Knight. Because when it came to things that bumped in the night he had plenty of experience bumping back and doing so hard enough to make the forces of darkness stop and reconsider their life choices.

[aklo]

Marc spewed a mixture of blood and water from his mouth. He took another swish of water from the bottle he'd retrieved from a gang hideout and spat.

"Sonuva..." he said as he wiped his mouth clean before covering his face with his mask. Perhaps procuring a gangsters water bottle wasn't his best decision, but he'd sustained himself on worst things as a mercenary. Besides, raiding their hideout during the day was hard work. He'd forgotten how easy his lunar powers made things.

The gangs had become clustered and inactive since his operation was a success. Huddling together in their hideouts like scared school girls. If they weren't going to show themselves at night anymore, the Fist of Khonshu decided to strike during the day. Not a moment was safe for them, but the same was now true for him--and it felt like it. This was the 4th hideout he'd raided within a single day, and though his body ached and fatigue was setting in, he felt it was the best choice to make within the hellzone he found himself in.

Stopping the werewolf which now stalked the area was his top concern. He suspected it was a member of one of the gangs, but he did not know for sure. Really, the day raids served two purposes: attempt to find the werewolf in the haystack, or at least keep the scumbags occupied long enough to move the homeless to safety. Ultimately it would likely all come down to a single plan.

Eliminate the beasts prey, so all he had left to snack on were his fellow gangsters, then Moon Knight would be free to identify and destroy him.

Walking towards the ledge of the broken down and boarded up patio he stood on, Moon Knight waited for a light breeze to blow before tipping over and expanding his glider cloak. There was still much work to do before nightfall.