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"Step out of the car! Now!"
"Out of the vehicle, hands where we can see them!"
As soon as Lucien pulled the sleek red Ferrari to a stop, two officers were on him, their voices sharp and commanding as they closed in on the driver's side.
The tension was palpable, but Lucien? He looked as calm as ever, almost amused by the situation unfolding before him.
"Relax, sweetheart. Give me a second."
Before the girl in the passenger seat could swing her legs out, Lucien placed a firm hand on her thigh, his touch both calming and possessive. He threw her a confident grin, the kind that made it hard to tell if he was fearless or just reckless, then slid out of the convertible with an air of defiance.
She raised an eyebrow, settling back into her seat, amused by his audacity. She had only met him hours ago—a casual encounter at a high-end bar. Expensive watch? Check. Flashy Ferrari? Check. A devil-may-care attitude paired with sharp, effortless charm? Double check. He practically oozed the energy of someone untouchable, the kind of guy who didn't live by the same rules as everyone else.
Still, if she'd known that everything about him—the car, the watch, the lifestyle—was borrowed or outright stolen, she might've thought twice about agreeing to that midnight joyride.
Unbothered by the tension radiating from the officers, Lucien threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Gentlemen," he started, his voice smooth, dripping with casual charisma. "It's scorching out here. Why don't we all skip the drama and grab a drink? No need to turn this into something messy."
His smile widened into something playful, almost disarming, but the officers weren't buying it. One of them stepped forward, handcuffs already in hand, his patience long gone.
Lucien's antics weren't just irritating; they were dangerous. His reckless driving had left a trail of damaged cars and rattled nerves, and the high-speed chase through city streets was the final straw. At this point, Lucien wasn't just an annoyance—he was a threat.
"Turn around and put your hands behind your back. Now," one officer barked, the weight of authority heavy in his tone.
Lucien's grin faltered just a fraction, his eyes narrowing. "I'm warning you," he said, his voice dipping into something far darker, far less playful. "You don't want to do that."
The older officer scoffed, stepping closer. "Warning us? You don't seem to understand the situation you're in. Now cooperate, or things are going to get a whole lot worse."
He reached for Lucien's wrists, but before the metal of the cuffs could touch his skin—
*Snap!*
Lucien moved faster than anyone anticipated, his hand clamping down on the officer's wrist like a steel trap. The officer froze, his confidence slipping as he realized just how wrong this situation was about to go. His partner's hand hovered over his weapon, tension crackling in the air like a live wire.
"Are you resisting arrest?" One of the officers barked the question, his voice shaky but still firm.
Lucien tilted his head, an almost playful curiosity flickering in his sharp gaze. His grin stretched wider, a flash of teeth that seemed more dangerous than charming now. "Resisting?" he echoed, letting the word hang in the tense air. "Oh, gentlemen, I've done this plenty of times before. Trust me—" his voice dropped into a low, taunting drawl, "—it never gets old."
For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the distant hum of the city. The officers exchanged glances, unsure if they'd just heard him confess outright—or if he was mocking them.
And then—
**Boom! Boom!**
Lucien moved. Two punches, faster than a heartbeat, connected with bone-shattering precision. The force sent the two officers flying, their bodies slamming into the side of their cruiser with a metallic crunch. The impact was so violent it left visible dents in the car, and their groans of pain were drowned out by the ringing in their ears.
Shouts erupted as the remaining officers on the scene scrambled to react. Weapons were drawn in an instant, the barrels of their guns all trained on Lucien.
"Freeze! Hands in the air!"
"On the ground, now!"
Lucien raised his hands, his posture deliberately slow and almost mocking. The grin on his face was unnervingly calm—no fear, no panic, just a simmering excitement that sent chills down their spines. His dark eyes flicked across each of them as though sizing up the situation, a predator assessing his prey.
And then, he unleashed it.
The change began subtly—at first, the officers thought it was a trick of the shadows. But then they saw it. Lucien's skin rippled unnaturally, his jaw elongating as sharp fangs emerged. His flesh twisted, tearing and reshaping itself grotesquely as dark, leathery wings erupted from his back. His entire form expanded, limbs stretching unnaturally until he stood before them as a monstrous hybrid—a terrifying blend of man and bat.
The officers froze in place, their fingers trembling on their triggers.
"W-what the hell is that?!" one of them stammered, his voice cracking with pure terror.
"A monster!" another choked out, his knees visibly buckling under the weight of the scene unfolding before him.
Lucien's guttural laughter echoed through the night, deep and resonant, as he loomed over them like a nightmare come to life. "Monster?" he repeated, his voice distorted, rasping with an inhuman edge. "You haven't even begun to see what I'm capable of."
*Whoosh!*
Lucien disappeared in an instant, leaving nothing but a blurred shadow in his wake.
*Thud! Thud! Thud!*
The sounds of bodies hitting the ground echoed sharply through the night, punctuated by panicked gunfire. The officers didn't stand a chance. By the time the chaos subsided, the scene was nothing short of carnage. Officers lay sprawled across the pavement, some groaning in pain, others completely motionless. Blood pooled beneath a few, their wide eyes staring into nothingness.
Lucien stood amidst the destruction, untouched and unbothered, a vision of predatory elegance.
**Clap! Clap!**
He dusted his hands off, his movements nonchalant, as though cleaning up after a routine chore. Without a hint of remorse, he turned and sauntered back toward the Ferrari, his expression calm and disturbingly casual.
"Alright, babe, problem solved," he called out, his tone light, almost cheerful, as though he hadn't just decimated a group of armed men in cold blood.
The girl in the passenger seat stared at him, her entire body trembling. Her breaths came in short, frantic gasps as she shrank back into her seat, eyes wide with pure terror.
"Y-you… stay away from me!" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but her legs refused to move. This wasn't a man, she realized. This was something far worse—a monster wearing the mask of a charming stranger.
Lucien froze, his playful grin evaporating. His dark eyes bore into her, the cold amusement giving way to something far more sinister. "Are you rejecting me?"
Her heart nearly stopped. She gasped, shaking her head frantically, her voice breaking as she pleaded, "Please… just don't come near me… please…"
Lucien tilted his head, his sneer twisting into something almost cruel. "Don't come near you?" he repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. "Funny, isn't it? Weren't you the one who clung to me first? Acting all sweet, laughing at my jokes, enjoying my attention… you didn't seem too scared of me then."
He leaned in, his presence suffocating, his voice dropping to a low, menacing rasp. "You seemed to love every moment of it. And now you're trembling like a little rabbit. What changed?"
Her fear only seemed to amuse him more. Lucien's lips curled into a chilling smile as he watched her futile attempts to recoil further into the seat. He drank in her terror like it was his reward, savoring every shaky breath, every panicked glance.
"Hey!"
A sharp voice cut through the tension like a blade.
Lucien turned, his expression shifting from predatory amusement to intrigued curiosity. Standing a few feet away was a tall, striking blonde woman who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Her piercing blue eyes locked onto his with unwavering focus, and her confident stance radiated authority. She wasn't just another cop on the scene—there was something different about her, something dangerous.
"When a woman says 'stay away,' I suggest you listen," she said, her tone calm but commanding, each word carrying a weight that demanded attention.
Lucien's lips curled into a slow, cocky grin as his dark eyes roamed over her, taking in her presence. "And who might you be?" he asked, his voice smooth, laced with playful arrogance. "A cop? Now, that's unfortunate. A woman like you? Wasting all that talent—and beauty—chasing petty criminals? What a tragedy."
He barely even acknowledged the pistol in her hand, his gaze flicking to it for only a split second before dismissing it entirely. Guns were irrelevant to him now, as harmless as toys in children's hands.
"But, hey," he continued, his grin widening as his tone dipped into something more mischievous, "since you're here anyway, how about we skip the boring part? You ditch the badge, and we grab a drink instead. I promise I'm a much better time than whatever report you were planning to write up tonight."
The woman's lips curved into a small smile—cold, calculating, and just a little amused. She didn't flinch under his gaze or his taunts. If anything, his arrogance seemed to entertain her.
"Sure," she said simply, her voice as even and composed as ever.
Lucien arched an eyebrow, caught off guard by her easy agreement. But before he could fire back with another remark, she made her move.
With a flick of her wrist, a thin cable shot out from her gauntlet, crackling with electricity.
*Zzzzap!*
Lucien's reflexes were sharp, and his hand shot up instinctively, easily snatching the cable midair.
"Nice try," he said, his voice dripping with mockery.
But before the words were fully out of his mouth, a powerful jolt of electricity surged through the wire, coursing into his body like a live storm.
*BZZZT!*
Lucien's muscles seized as the voltage overwhelmed him, locking his limbs in place. For a moment, he gritted his teeth, growling through the pain, but it was clear the shock had caught him off guard.
"Urgh!"
The woman didn't waste a second. She moved precisely, closing the distance between them in a fluid motion. Her leg swept low in a practiced arc, catching Lucien off balance and sending him crashing to the ground with a solid thud.
But Lucien was far from defeated.
**Whoosh!**
With a single, powerful beat of his massive wings, he launched himself upward, flipping midair before landing gracefully a few feet away. He straightened up, brushing imaginary dust from his jacket as if the whole encounter had been nothing more than an amusing inconvenience.
"Well, now," he said, his smirk returning, this time sharper, more dangerous. His dark eyes gleamed with something between excitement and menace. "This just got interesting."
The blonde woman—Natasha Romanoff, though the world knew her better as Black Widow—remained where she was, her stance calm but ready, her piercing gaze unflinching.
"You have no idea," she replied, her voice steady, her faint smile daring him to try again.
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Next Chapter: The Ultimate Showdown
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Next Next Next Chapter: Tony Stark's Fate Has Nothing to Do with Me
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