(Earth)

Damian waited in the shadows behind the dumpster. His all black clothes and the dark hood on his head helped hide him. He crinkled his nose at the scent of alcohol, puke, and rotting garbage that permeated through the alleyway.

The door to the bar opened and voices spilled out. Damian closed his eyes and listened for one voice in particular. But the click of high heels on the sidewalk and the high-pitched giggling of drunk girls made him sigh and open his eyes again. He settled back on his heels and flexed his hands, readjusting his grip on the claws. He idly scratched the ground with the claws’ blades and waited for the bar doors to open again.

Eventually the right person came out of the bar.

Damian stood and stepped out from behind the dumpster, stalking towards the end of the alley where his target would walk by, planning to follow until the target was alone.

Then the drunken target stumbled into the alley, Damian’s eyes widened and he backed into the shadows, now waiting for his target to come further into the darkness. The man, the piece of shit, doubled over and started vomiting just a few feet into the alley. When he was done, he straightened up and started muttering incoherently about ‘that bitch’. Before the man could turn and stumble back to the main road, Damian was in front of him, pressing the tip of the claws’ center blade to his throat. “Brent Rogers...” Damian said, deepening his voice as far as he could in order to disguise it, “Erin sends her regards.” The man stumbled back but Damian’s lunge forward was faster. The blades were easily buried in the man’s throat. The man tried to gasp for breath just once, blood gurgling, and then he fell backwards, dead before he hit the ground. 

Damian crouched and grabbed the front of the man’s shirt and lifting his body up slightly. He grimaced at the blood dribbling from the man’s mouth as he leaned down to use his Kiss of Life to heal the man.

“Brent!” A voice called out from the mouth of the alley. Damian raised his arm and prepared to swipe his hand and use the claws to rip open a portal.

A loud noise rang out. Damian felt an impact like being punched in the shoulder. Damian’s mind felt like it was slowing down and speeding up at the same time. At the mouth of the alley stood the target’s friend, holding up a gun. Gun? Was I shot? Damian started to feel blood drip from his shoulder. He couldn’t raise his right arm. He raised his left and ripped open a portal. He heard another gunshot as he half-stepped, half-fell through it.

Take me to my brother, he thought, closing his eyes.