The Man And The Hood

[Maverick_DaSupreme]

Anatoli Knyazev.

KG Beast. Red Hood sized him up, running a mental check against the notes he'd read from Batman's files back when he was still Robin.

Cybernetic enhancements, trained as an assassin by "The Hammer," a top secret cell of the KGB. In addition to being a master of several martial arts, his strength was cybernetically enhanced, and was also said to have mastered the use of every deadly weapon known to man.

This wanna-be cyborg, once cut off his own damn hand to escape a trap rather than surrender. Yeah, Jason knew he had to tread carefully here.

And with him involved in this scheme which has ensnared Red Hood, Black Mask suddenly had the upper hand for the first time in this whole bloody scuffle."Weapons. On the floor," Beast ordered, his voice rough, low, and with a foreign accent. Jason tilted his head, playing it cool.

He reached for one of his pistols with exaggerated slowness, then slipped the sheathed sword off his back. "The knief too, slowly," Beast added, his arm twitching as if itching to fire. Jason let it all clatter onto the ground, deliberately flicking this hands behind him instead of handing them over.

The metals clinked against the floorboards.

"Whoops," he said with his tone light and mocking. "That was intentional. He asked you to—"

"You really are as pathetic as I figured," Jason lazily cut in, disrupting Black Mask's rant.

"Glad I could confirm it face-to-face." He added. Black Mask's head snapped toward him, fury practically radiating off his body.

"What the fuck are you on about? I've got you bleeding out, trapped, with a goddamn submachine gun pointed at your skull." Red Hood's voice dropped lower, smoother, with an increase to his cocky tone.

"Exactly. And even with all that, you still look like you're a mile away from me. Scared. Does the sight of me really get under your skin that much?" That hit home.

Black Mask's grip on the gun twitched, and rage started taking the wheel. "You asshole, I'll show you what happens to low lives like you who think you can fuck with me. I'll show you pain before I kill you." He stormed forward, every step of his was fueled by pride and anger even though some part of him clearly knew better.

He stopped just shy of Jason, close enough to spit in his face but not close enough to take the swing. "See?" Jason's voice sharpened, his tone rising with every word.

"Shut up, I have the upper hand here." Black Mask began, "You couldn't even help yourself. So tell me, why the hell do you think you could tear through my business? And even dare fuck with my money? Why slaughter my men like pigs in a pen? What do you gain?" His voice built and built until he was practically yelling the last bit.

"Why don't you ask him?" Jason jerked his head toward KG Beast.

"Huh?" Black Mask spun around, confused, looking for an answer. Beast just shrugged—flat, expressionless, shoulders moving like chunks of muscles.

"What the hell are you—" The Red Hood moved.

Quick as a whip crack. The crowbar was in his hand and hooked around Black Mask's belt before the man even realized what was happening.

One savage yank, and Black Mask was ripped off balance, dragged into Red Hood's waiting arm. KG Beast froze up—he couldn't risk firing without putting a bullet straight through his contractor. Red Hood spun him tight, clamping an arm around his throat in a chokehold.

The crowbar hit the ground with a dull clang, swapped for his second pistol, now pressed hard against Black Mask's skull. "One twitch," Jason growled, "and the walls are getting a new paint job. Trust me, it ain't gonna be a pretty one." He pressed the gun against his head.

"Don't move!" Black Mask barked at Beast, real fear leaking through his anger. He tried to sound tough but it cracked at the edges.

"I know you—you'd do it. That's why you came here. But what happens when he fills you full of holes the second you pull the trigger, huh?" Jason tilted his helmet, casual as if they were discussing the weather. "Do you even have to ask? I'll use you as a meatshield and walk out alive."

The truth was uglier. Red Hood could already feel the blood loss making him sluggish, his muscles heavy, his vision starting to fuzz.

He didn't have long before he lost his edge. He had to wrap this up now. "Where are my manners?" Jason said suddenly with a smooth voice, almost mockingly.

Black Mask blinked. "What?"

"You must be wondering how much I'm enjoying this little present of yours." Jason shoved him forward. "Why don't you find out?"

"Wait—what are you—" Black Mask stumbled, foot crashing down onto the hidden plate with a sharp snap.

CLANK.

The steel trap bit into his leg with a vicious bite, metal teeth sinking deep.The scream tore out of him through his lungs as blood gushed instantly, his body convulsing with pain as he tried to fight it but couldn't. He clenched his teeth so hard it was a wonder they didn't shatter, hands trembling as his knees gave out. "Kill this fucker!"

He bellowed at Beast, the words warped by agony were high-pitched and furious all at once. "The Beast might hit you. The objective will do anything to survive, including using you as a human meatshield." KG Beast's barrel never wavered, still aimed squarely at Red Hood.

Jason loosened his grip around Black Mask's neck, unwrapping the arm that had been holding him tight, though his pistol never left the obsidian skull pressed firmly against the man's head.

With his free hand, Jason reached back into the utility belt strapped around his waist. His gloved fingers fished out a small canister the size of his palm. A quick flick pulled the pin free, and he dropped the tear gas to the ground right between Black Mask and the hulking merc.

The canister hissed as smoke spilled out, thick and fast."Don't shoot, don't shoot," Black Mask croaked, panic instantly crawling into his voice. KG Beast hesitated, his mechanical eye narrowing, knowing exactly why he couldn't fire. If his contractor dies, so does the rest of his payment.The gas spread all over the room, curling upward and filling the space.

Black Mask coughed hard, his voice breaking between ragged gasps. His eyes watered, vision swimming as his throat burned. Already bleeding from the leg trap earlier, he looked a wreck—as his jaw clenched tight, his entire body twitching between pain and suffocation.

Red Hood, meanwhile, had already slipped back into the haze.KG Beast's cybernetic eye flickered red, shifting into infrared mode. A soft hum came from the implant as his vision recalibrated, picking up heat signatures through the fog.

He scanned the room, searching. Only one shape glowed bright through the smoke—Black Mask, collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain. No sign of Red Hood. He cursed under his breath and rushed to his employer, wondering how the Red Hood got away from the trap.

Dropping low, Beast pried open the steel trap still gnawing at Black Mask's leg. The metal teeth groaned and snapped as he forced them apart, pulling the jagged ends free. Black Mask screamed—loud and guttural, a howl of pure agony that ripped from his chest as fresh blood streamed down his shredded leg.

"Kill that son of a bitch," he rasped, his voice was cracked and wet from the gas. His hands trembled as he grabbed onto Beast's armored forearm, using it like a lifeline. KGB Beast tore a strip of Black Mask's tailored pants without hesitation, knotting it tightly around the wound.

The make shift tourniquet stemmed the bleeding for now. He shoved a half-empty bottle of whiskey into his boss's hand. "Keep pressure on it," he ordered, his voice sounding calm but clipped.

Black Mask tilted the bottle back, gulping hard between shallow breaths as the burn of alcohol mixing with the pain. Beast rose and switched his vision back, red glow in his eye dimming as his focus shifted toward the hallway. Blood trailed across the floor, dark streaks smeared like breadcrumbs leading straight out the door. Red Hood's earlier drops.

The mercenary followed the trail, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. The hallway stretched long, lined with fresh wallpaper and well polished flooring. The path led him to the end of the corridor, where a sharp right turn descended into a stairwell. The streaks of blood pooled at the corner, but stopped there, suddenly cut off.Beast raised his weapon first, cautious.

He edged around the corner, lowering his frame, scanning for heat, for sound.

Nothing. Just empty steps spiraling downward.

Then—Glass shattered behind him. The sound burst suddenly and violent, shards scattering across the floor. Beast's head snapped around, but too late.

Jason came swinging through the broken window, grapple line retracting fast. His boot—driven by the weight of his uninjured leg—slammed into Beast's chest like a battering ram.

The impact launched the mercenary backward. His massive body flipped, somersaulting down the stairwell, colliding with the steps in brutal thuds before crashing hard at the bottom.

Jason hit the floor, a wince flashing behind the helmet as pain shot up his injured leg. He dropped low against the wall, ripping open the last of his medical supplies. Shaking hands worked fast as he pulled up the leg of his pants, finishing the bandage job he'd rushed earlier with his foot bare.

The fabric pulled tight around the wound, clipped down, slowing the bleeding. The pain was still excrutiating, but at least the blood wouldn't cost him consciousness.

If it hadn't been for the enhancements that came with his time in the League, he'd be done already. No way he could've pried open that trap earlier, no way he could even be standing here now. Every move hurt, but adrenaline pushed him forward as he wore back his boot and dropped the leg of his combat pants.Still crouched, Jason dug out a small canister of disinfectant spray.

He misted it over the blood he'd left at the corner and down the hall, neutralizing the blood so it couldn't be traced to revealing his identity. He didn't stop there—he sprayed the puddle from the trap room too, even the one belonging to Black Mask. No evidence to trail.

He wasn't giving Beast any easy tracks.When he finished, he stepped back into the room. His pistol was out, barrel leveled at Black Mask's head. "Don't move, shithead." Roman Sionis, propped against the wall and clutching his leg, drained the last gulp of whiskey and let the bottle slip from his hand.

He stared at Red Hood, his lips twitching between a sneer and grimace with shallow breaths. "You don't want me dead," he said, his tone trying to sound confident but faintly roughed up at the edges. "If you did, you'd have pulled the trigger already."

"Not right now," Red Hood answered, his voice was flat but still sounded dangerous. "Killing you now wouldn't be satisfying. I've got an entire fantasy about how I'm going to end you. Slowly. I'll watch you beg, plead, scream. I'll peel you apart, strip your flesh piece by piece until you're nothing but a mash of nerves and muscles. A live human anatomy model. I'd skin you alive—but keep you breathing just enough."

Even behind the black mask, Jason saw his eyes widen, the flicker of real fear. Roman gulped hard, his throat bobbing. For once, the mighty Black Mask had nothing to say.

Red Hoodducked into cover as the sudden roar of automatic gunfire shredded the room, bullets tearing through plaster and splintering furniture.

The stream of fire carved lines across the walls, purposefully avoiding Roman.Black Mask's pulse spiked, his heart thundering as the reality began to set in. He was about to be caught in the crossfire between Red Hood and KG Beast. He needed out.

Using the wall as support, he pushed himself upright, limping toward the exit. He leapt, planting his hands and feet on either side of the frame, hauling himself up with surprising agility for a wounded man.

"Bring me his head," he hissed, voice shaking with fury as he glanced back at Beast. KG Beast paused his fire but didn't lower his weapon, his eye glowing faint as it tracked Red Hood's movements.

"If you'll excuse me," Roman muttered, half to himself, "I've got a business to run. Next time I see you, it'll be your head mounted on my office wall."

From behind the overturned table he was using as cover, Red Hood barked back. "You better watch your back, Roman. I'm coming for you. And when I do, no one in this city will be able to save you." Fear struck Roman upon those words, but he got a grip and limped out, leaving Beast and the Red Hood to their war. The gunfire started again.

Jason rolled to the side as bullets chewed through the spot where he'd just been. He tossed a pillow high into the air, the object catching Beast's attention. The mercenary's weapon swiveled toward it for a split second—long enough.

Jason shifted from another angle, slower than usual thanks to his leg, but trying to be precise. He fired. The bullet slammed into the barrel of Beast's cybernetic gun arm, sparks bursted out from the impact. Red Hood closed the distance, pushing straight into melee.

His movements were jagged, more out of raw grit than finesse. The clash of metal and fists echoed through the room as they traded blows Red Hood drove forward with his sword despite his leg, and Beast caught a glimpse of the red bat crest on Jason's chest plate. His lip curled into a sneer, as he bared his teeth.

"You're one of his boys." His voice was thick and hateful for someone who was known to be detatched, memories of Gotham's Dark Knight flashing across his mind.

Rage hardened his expression. "Batman owes The Beast an arm. Killing one of his sons will do just fine. Tonight, Red Hood shall fall to KG Beast."

 

[Maverick_DaSupreme]

"Your marksmanship is quite impressive—to be able to make that shot right into this gun's barrel. Like he cost me my arm, you also wish to take this one," the man growled, his thick accent wedging through the static tension in the air.

Jason tilted his head slightly, unbothered. The cracked fluorescent light above flickered, throwing shadows across the walls of the half-destroyed room.

The smell of gunpowder mixed with the faint scent of expensive perfume and blood. "Dude," Red Hood said dryly, "you have a fucking gun for an arm. Don't wrap me up in whatever beef you've got with Batman. Leave me out of it. I'm my own man, and I'm here for Black Mask. That's the only business I've got tonight—not fighting some half-robot psycho out for vengeance because he got his ass handed to him by someone else."

"Either way, orders have been given," the brute replied coldly, his single organic eye narrowing with murder in it. "Red Hood's death is already inevitable. Encountering one of his boys… is just an appetizing bonus. The Beast shall enjoy th—" He never finished.

In a flash of movement, Red Hood drove forward, planting his boot and twisting his hips into a thrust aimed right for KGBeast's heart. The air split with a high-pitched metallic shriek as a solid yet retractable blade shot out from beneath the Beast's cybernetic arm, deflecting Jason's sword mid-lunge with a shower of sparks.

The impact sent a metallic echo through the narrow hall, the force vibrating through Jason's forearm. He was shoved back, his boots skidding across the cracked tiles as KGBeast retaliated with a brutal swing from his mechanical arm.

Jason tried to sidestep, body instinctively coiling for a counter—but his right leg didn't respond fast enough. Pain lanced up his thigh like lightning, locking his movement for a crucial second.

The blade came down with a brutal whoosh, and Jason barely managed to block it with his sword, the clang ringing through his skull. The weight behind KGBeast's arm was monstrous—the gun, the metal, the sheer mechanical density—it all made every swing hit like a sledgehammer. Red Hood parried it, but the effort rattled through his bones.

He grit his teeth, switching tactics. Raising his pistol in one hand while steadying his sword with the other, he fired off a series of quick, controlled shots.

The muzzle flashes illuminated KGBeast's masked face and metal plating. But the brute deflected the bullets with terrifying precision, sparks scattering like fireflies as he deflected each round with his blade before lunging again.

Jason caught the movement, but this time he was slower—his balance off, his footwork sluggish. KGBeast's diagonal upward strike was too fast to evade. Jason raised his blade to block, but the motion left him wide open on his flank.

He tried to pull the trigger again—to shoot the bastard point blank—but KGBeast's attack came first. The metal arm connected with the side of his helmet in a crushing blow.

The world tilted violently. Jason's shot went wild as pain exploded behind his eyes. Before he could recover, KGBeast's heavy boot slammed into his chest, launching him backward.

Jason crashed through the bathroom door with a deafening crack, shattering ceramic tiles and splintering the mirror behind him. Shards scattered across the floor like glass rain. He groaned, pain crawling up his ribs as he lay amid the wreckage, his breathing ragged inside the helmet.

'The longer this fight goes on… the worse it'll get,' he thought, forcing himself up with one arm. He glanced down at his leg. The makeshift bandage from earlier had already failed; blood seeped through the fabric, dark and wet. His emergency patch-up wasn't holding anymore.

Footsteps echoed from beyond the doorway—heavy, deliberate, and sounding like bad omen.

KGBeast's shadow stretched across the tiles before his frame appeared, filling the narrow entryway like a statue.

"Your old man put up more of a fight," KGBeast sneered with his voice low and guttural. "To think you could face the Beast in that condition... pathetic. Either you're too cocky to run, or you really do have a death wish. Either way, tonight shall be the end of the Red Hood."

He advanced slowly, the dull metallic thuds of his steps mingling with the faint dripping from the busted sink. The air felt tighter with each stride, heavy with the smell of gun oil and dust.

"Come out, boy," he mocked, tilting his head. "It's too cramped in there. This fight could end much quicker if the Beast were to bash your skull against the tiled wall." His voice oozed arrogance, his grin attempting to break through and cause Jason to fall into despire.

Jason exhaled through his teeth, his voice calm and casual. "Don't get too cocky. If not for my busted leg, this would've been over ages ago. Old man."

He wasn't bluffing—just stalling. Shooting directly at KGBeast now would be useless. The bastard could react fast enough, interrupt his aim, or just block it entirely with that metal arm. Every bullet would just be wasted unless he used them smartly—like bait. That was how he'd managed to disable the gun-arm earlier: by catching him off guard with precise aim. But now the bastard knew better.

Jason's gaze flicked briefly to the arm, realizing the faint mechanical hum had changed pitch.

"Hah… much better," KGBeast's voice came again, low and confident. Then the sharp, mechanical click of a reload broke the silence.

Jason's eyes widened beneath his helmet as he realized—the son of a bitch had fixed his weaponized arm.

The sound of rapid gunfire tore through the night air, ripping apart the tense silence as red-hot bullets shredded the bathroom walls. Dust, plaster, and broken tile burst outward in violent sprays while smoke clouded the room . Each impact echoed with a sharp metallic ping, the noise reverberating through the building's narrow halls.

KGBeast finally stopped firing after what felt like an eternity. The smoking barrel of his cybernetic arm hummed with heat, faintly glowing beneath its scorched plating. He exhaled slowly, lowering the arm with mechanical ease. The silence that followed was unnerving—only the faint hiss of settling dust and the distant hum of the city beyond the shattered window filled the air.

He started toward the bathroom, boots crunching over debris. He leaned his weight against the doorframe, cautious, his single eye scanning the ruin inside.

Was it over? Did he finally put the Red Hood down for good?

He expected to see the vigilante sprawled across the floor—bleeding out, maybe twitching from shock, or at least hiding behind the busted tub. But instead, the room was empty. The mirror was shattered, the sink cracked in half, and fragments of porcelain littered the floor. Water trickled from a broken pipe, collecting into small puddles that reflected the faint glow of the room's light.

Red Hood was nowhere in sight.

The floor was clear. The window—far too small for any grown man to crawl through. That only left one possibility.

"Above…" KGBeast muttered under his breath.

His instincts kicked in a split second too late. As he tilted his head upward, his one good eye met the faint red glow from Red Hood's visor. Jason was pressed flat against the ceiling, muscles strained as he held himself up. His injured leg braced against the upper frame of a cabinet, the other foot dug into the wall for leverage. In his right hand, he'd jammed a crowbar halfway into the tiled wall, using it as a handle to suspend himself.

The moment their eyes met, Red Hood's body shifted. His left arm moved off the wall and went straight for his pistol.

Both men drew their weapons at the same time—but Jason was faster. Two sharp cracks split the air, muzzle flashes flaring like small explosions as bullets ripped toward the mercenary's head.

KGBeast jerked back, his metal shoulder scraping the doorway as he narrowly avoided the rounds. Jason fired two more shots through the wall before dropping down. His boots hit the ground with a heavy thud, sending another wave of dust into the air.

The mercenary pressed his back against the opposite wall, breathing hard as he adjusted his grip. The doorframe beside him was riddled with bullet holes. Jason stepped out of the smoke with a pistol in one hand, sword in the other, his stance sharp and steady despite the pain in his leg.

Three small pellets rolled across the cracked floor toward KGBeast. He barely had time to register them before they burst open with a hiss—thick black smoke flooded the room, swallowing everything in sight.

"You're a trained assassin, aren't you?" KGBeast called out, his voice echoing through the haze.

Two quick shots answered him, each pinging off his cover.

"What gave it away?" Jason's voice came from somewhere in the fog, calm and teasing.

"Even with your wounded leg," the mercenary replied, "the Beast cannot hear your footsteps." He aimed at the sound and fired twice, bullets cutting through the smoke.

Jason smirked beneath his helmet. "Well, this is quite the matchup—the Soviet lapdog versus the bloodthirsty assassin."
"Within this smoke," KGBeast said darkly, "the Beast has the advantage."

"Oh yeah?" Jason ducked low and shifted positions. "Enlighten me."

"The Beast has a cybernetic implant for a left eye. Meaning," he fired again, rapid bursts lighting up the haze, "I can see you even through this smoke." Jason's heart pounded in his chest as he weaved between the bullets, taking cover behind a cracked partition.

"That's quite the coincidence," Jason muttered, his tone steady as his helmet's sensors flickered to life. "Because I see you too."

The tension snapped as both of them stepped out of cover almost simultaneously, silhouettes glowing red and yellow in each other's infrared vision.

Jason didn't hesitate—he surged forward. His movements were sharp but controlled, putting all the weight on his good leg. The muzzle of KGBeast's arm lit up again, filling the smoke with a strobing fury of orange light. Jason dodged, slipping between the bursts and returning fire as he closed the gap.

They met at the center of the ruined room, metal clashing against metal. KGBeast swung his bowie blade with his right arm; Jason caught it on his sword, sparks flaring where steel met steel. The Beast pressed his gun-arm to Jason's ribs, ready to fill him full of holes—

But Jason reacted first. He drove his boot hard into the mercenary's chest, using the impact as leverage to propel himself backward. The hit sent KGBeast flying, crashing into the far wall with a metallic crunch that cracked the plaster.

"You wear his symbol," the Beast grunted, dragging himself up, "but you don't fight or move like him." He ripped a few shurikens from his belt and flung them. Jason deflected them midair, sparks glinting off his blade as the weapons shattered against the walls.

"Unlike your brother in arms, Nightwing," KGBeast continued, pacing slowly, "you aren't as nimble. Maybe it's your leg… or maybe he's just better than you."
Jason snorted through his helmet, his voice dripping with mock amusement. "Oh, so you fought Nightwing? I bet that was a fun time. Lemme guess—he whooped your ass, didn't he?"

The remark landed like a slap. KGBeast's expression darkened, his jaw tightening beneath his mask. His rage was almost palpable. With a growl, he once again detached the bowie blade from his arm and gripped it by the handle, taking a stance. Jason's quip had struck home.

The mercenary lunged first this time, swinging the blade in a vicious arc. Jason met it head-on, blocking and pushing back hard enough to make the metal shriek. He followed it with a roundhouse kick, his boot connecting solidly with the man's faceplate and sending him smashing through the wall into the hallway beyond. The impact left a crater of cracked plaster and scattered debris.

"The Bat left me to die," KGBeast roared, staggering to his feet, voice trembling with fury. "But I beat death and lost my arm! Nightwing cost me my first cybernetic arm and nearly my life. It bruised my pride.
Tonight, I'll have my revenge—and wear your bullet-riddled skull as my trophy!"

Jason sighed through his helmet, straightening his shoulders as his tone dropped to something colder. "You just can't let it go, huh? Fine. You wanna project your issues onto me, go ahead. But if you're so desperate for closure—then come and get it."

He charged forward, ignoring the ache in his leg. KGBeast fired to stop him, but Jason weaved through the barrage, each step deliberate and measured. He closed the distance in seconds, kicking the merc's cybernetic arm just enough to redirect the muzzle away from him before driving in with his sword.

The two clashed again—metal on metal, rage against resolve. KGBeast swung downward with his blade, Jason blocked and countered with a brutal headbutt that sent a dull crack echoing through the hall.

Then Red Hood drove his boot into the merc's chest, forcing him back through another wall, debris raining down around them as they crashed into the hallway.

"To be this worked up about Batman and Nightwing," Red Hood said as he stepped through the doorway, deliberately avoiding the hole he'd made, "They must have really done a number on you, huh?"

His voice was calm and mocking. But beneath the helmet, his eyes burned fiercely—focused and done with the games. He has to end things quick.