The rain was beating heavily now, pounding those who were caught in it to seek refuge indoors. With most of the city silent, Billy Crawley knew that now was his best chance to strike. With a grin, he flicked the stub of his smoke to the ground and was it float away in the gutter-water. He pulled down his balaclava and turned around. Two men stood with him, a couple of brothers named Quinton and Marcus he'd met during his last stint in the pound.
"We do this an' we're laughing boys. We go in the back, take as much as we can carry an' get out. Simple an' straight-forward".
They both nodded and pulled their own masks over grim faces. Billy hid the sawn-off shotgun within his rain-soaked Mac and set off at a steady lope across the road and into an adjacent alleyway. With the brothers heavy footfalls behind him they came to an rusting steel door, blue paint flecking from it like dead skin. The smaller of the brothers, Quinton stepped forward and jimmied a crowbar on the heavy padlock. It came away with ease and the three men strolled through the doorway and into the darkness beyond.
"Fill 'em up boys", Billy sneered, handing out canvas sacks. With small torches to guide their way, the three robbers moved through the darkness and into a dimly lit Jewellery Store. Quickly, display cases were smashed and sacks were loaded.
As the three men made to leave, an old man in blue pyjamas and an old woollen dressing gown appeared in the doorway.
"Hey!" he shouted, waving a wooden baseball bat above his head.
"This is my store, now you bastards get outta here whilst you still can. The cops'll be here any minute y'hear?!"
Billy sneered under his mask and without warning brought his shotgun to bear and casually pulled the trigger. He watched emotionless as the old man was punched off his feet, a gaping hole in his chest and gore splattering the wall behind.
"let's go!" he cried.
The men ran back across the road and down the alley where they'd left their beaten up old van. Reaching the van, Billy stopped in his tracks. In the middle of the alleyway a white shape descended from the darkness, landing o the rain soaked ground.
Billy growled and raised his gun, as Marcus came up beside him and raised a small handgun.
The stranger didn't move a muscle. He simply stared balefully at the trio, rain beating off his shoulders and making the two crescent blades in his hands shine in the gloom.
"It's a bit late to be out shopping. How about you drop the guns, leave the goods and hand yourselves in. It'll be less painful".
It was Marcus who made the first move, cocking his gun and squeezing the trigger. The huge man moved like lightening, leaping to the roof of the van and leaping into the trio, taking both Billy and Marcus to the ground. Quinton leapt to the warrior and swung with his crowbar. Moon Knight blocked the blow with one blade and jabbed the other into his gut, ripping it up through the chest. Blood sprayed across his face in a bright arc as Billy rose and took aim. Moon Knight spun on his heel and threw his second blade, sending it spinning through the air and punching home in Billys right eye socket. He died without a sound. Marcus got up and tried to run but Moon Knight grabbed him by the collar and flung him back against the van. As Marcus struggled to suck in a breath, Moon Knight jammed a knife into his right shoulder and pinned him to the van. Calmly he collected his other blade and closed in on his captive.
Marcus fumbled at the knife in his shoulder. Tears mixed with the blood that stained his face as the white death moved closer.
"Y-you can't kill me man! You're one of those Hero types!"
Moon Knight looked at him with dead eyes.
"You wish", he growled, slashing his blade across the helpless mans throat. He watched on as the lifeblood drained from the robber. Calmly, he wiped the blood from his blades on the dead mans clothes and sheathed them.
