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Nomak had arrived.
Nomak was dead.
The main antagonist of Blade II had met his end before the plot could even begin, all thanks to Hawk's little detour.
He was dead as dead could be. There would be no sequel for him.
Hawk glanced dispassionately at the headless corpse on the floor.
The next second.
A brilliant beam of golden light—the Phoenix Ray—flashed from his hand.
BOOM!
In an instant, the floor was clean.
No blood. No body.
Hawk turned his gaze to Whistler, who looked weak and was currently leaning heavily on Blade for support. His voice was calm. "You should get some rest, Mr. Whistler."
Whistler looked at Hawk, opening his mouth to say something, but Blade had already started moving, helping the old man toward the cots in the back of the warehouse.
Hawk then lifted the immobilization on Nyssa and the other two vampires of the Bloodpack.
"Have a seat."
"Thank you."
Feeling the invisible pressure vanish, Nyssa breathed a sigh of relief. She quickly thanked Hawk, then shot a pointed look at the other two.
They got the message and mumbled their own thanks.
Hawk just chuckled.
"Yeah, he's here with me."
"I don't know what he's doing here."
"He just showed up and started killing everyone."
"Uh…"
"Okay."
"Got it."
Hawk, his eyes half-closed, listened to Blade complaining to Sharon Carter on the phone after getting Whistler settled. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.
Does he think I want to be here?
I should be home right now, holding my beautiful fiancée in bed, not standing in this drafty warehouse listening to the wind howl.
Goddammit.
Yahweh and his bullshit.
Instead of the high road, he makes me crawl through the gutters.
Time ticked by.
...
Soon.
The sound of rushing wind approached.
Hawk opened his eyes and looked toward the warehouse entrance.
Reinhardt, the leader of the Bloodpack, had returned. He was carrying Bruce by the belt in one hand and had Andor slung over his other shoulder. He burst through the entrance with a series of heavy thuds, looking like he was running from the devil himself.
Just then.
A familiar thwip echoed outside.
Hawk raised an eyebrow. He vanished, reappearing outside the warehouse just in time to catch a strand of webbing that had been aimed at Reinhardt's back. He looked down the line to see Spider-Man swinging toward them.
Their eyes met.
"Oh, hey, Hawk."
"Hey. Working late again? Does your wife know?"
"No, no, I just ran out to get diapers. I thought… are you busy?"
"A little. Want to stick around for the show?"
"…Nah, I should get back. We really need these diapers."
"Alright, see ya."
Hawk waved as Spider-Man swung away, then turned and walked back into the warehouse.
Reinhardt had dumped the unconscious bodies of Bruce and Andor on the floor.
"I brought the men you wanted. Now it's your turn. Let my people go."
"Done."
Hawk nodded.
He wasn't some bloodthirsty maniac.
He kept his word.
Reinhardt had held up his end of the bargain, so he would let them leave.
Besides…
Reinhardt and Nyssa had been smart enough not to cause any trouble. He didn't have a reason to kill them.
Nyssa and the other two vampires hurried over to their leader, quickly filling him in on the fact that Nomak and the entire Reaper threat had just been eradicated.
Reinhardt thought Nyssa was joking. He let out a harsh laugh.
And then—
He saw the dead-serious look on his second-in-command's face. He saw Nyssa nod again. He looked past them, his eyes finding Blade, who was walking back from the cots.
"Nomak…"
"Is dead."
Blade, still wearing his sunglasses in the dead of night, said it with his usual cool detachment. He pointed to the clean spot on the floor. "Died right there."
Reinhardt believed it.
The next second.
Gulp.
He swallowed hard and looked at Hawk.
"Phoenix Ray!"
VMMMM!
BOOM!
The unconscious bodies of Bruce and Andor were vaporized instantly. Their souls were immediately ripped from their bodies and pulled into the Underworld.
The next second.
They were cast into the Prison of Acid Rain, joining Nomak in eternal torment.
Let them die twenty times or so. Then we'll talk.
Hawk thought to himself, preparing to leave.
But just as he was about to go, he stopped and looked at Reinhardt. "I've wiped out every vampire in Castle Corvinus. You planning on avenging your boss?"
Reinhardt's expression shifted drastically.
"What?"
Nyssa was equally shocked, but she recovered quickly. She looked at Hawk, her voice steady. "No. We were merely Mr. Corvinus's employees. We are… grateful for our freedom."
Hawk listened to her answer. Seeing no deception in her eyes, he chuckled. He glanced at Blade. "This one's alright. Do me a favor and let her live."
With that, he didn't linger. He vanished from the warehouse. His consciousness descended, plunging into the depths of the Second Prison of his Underworld.
Amidst the endless, corrosive downpour.
Nomak's agonizing solo had become a trio, joined by the desperate screams of Bruce and Andor.
Their shrieks echoed over one another, a cacophony of endless suffering.
With a thought, Hawk transferred Nomak—who was of no further use to him—to a different sector to continue his punishment. He then temporarily suspended the acid rain falling on Bruce and Andor.
The downpour ceased.
The two vampires, their souls pitted and scarred by the acid, trembled violently. They were pale and translucent, looking as if one more drop of rain would dissolve them completely, only for them to be resurrected to endure it all again.
Hawk materialized before them.
Their eyes met.
Hawk stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression completely blank. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hawk Phoenix. Or, if you prefer… Hawk Chloe. So, I assume you know why I'm here."
Bruce and Andor's hearts sank the moment they heard the name.
"..." But they remained silent.
Hawk chuckled. "Don't want to talk? That's fine. Call me when you change your minds."
He turned away.
The acid rain resumed.
The screams and wails started all over again.
...
Hawk pulled his consciousness from the Underworld and opened his eyes. He looked at Sharon, then at Gwen. He was a little surprised.
"Where's George?"
"He went home," Gwen said, steering the conversation back on track.
"So?"
"They haven't talked yet. But they will."
Once a soul entered his Underworld, it was only a matter of time before they broke.
Alexander Pierce had been the sole exception.
Again.
Regardless of what side he was on, Alexander Pierce had been a man of formidable intellect, ambition, and willpower. He knew he'd lost, and he had accepted it.
Because of that, Hawk had granted him a slightly more dignified punishment.
Pierce was currently wandering through an endless, eternal blizzard. Even when he died, he died a relatively clean death by freezing, which was infinitely better than being burned to ash, dissolved by acid, or ground to dust under massive stone wheels.
But did Bruce and Andor deserve that kind of dignity?
No.
In fact, the moment he had pulled his consciousness back, they were already screaming that they would tell him everything.
But Hawk was in no rush.
He'd let them stew for a while.
He looked at Sharon.
"Is the autopsy report back?"
"Not ye—"
"Ma'am, the report is here." An assistant ran over, handing Sharon a fresh folder.
Sharon scanned the first page, then looked up at Hawk.
"It's not a match."
Hiss.
Gwen drew in a sharp breath. "Where did they get a body? How did my dad not realize it wasn't the right one?"
"The photos in Andrew's file were swapped," Sharon explained. "Before '98, most of the NYPD's records were still paper. It wouldn't have been hard to replace them."
The truth was, from the moment the body had been transferred from the 21st Precinct, Sharon had suspected it wasn't Andrew.
The reason was simple.
She couldn't see a single trace of Hawk in that man's features.
If George had known about the connection between Hawk and Andrew earlier, he would have realized the discrepancy immediately.
"So whose body is it?"
"Some John Doe..."
Sharon shrugged. "His height and build are similar to Andrew's. Probably an undocumented immigrant."
In New York City, an average of 2.3 homeless people disappeared every single day.
It wasn't exactly headline news.
If you chose to live off the grid in a city like New York, you accepted the risks that came with it.
But they were getting off topic.
With the confirmation that the body wasn't Andrew's, Gwen brought them back to the real question.
"Why did they want Andrew's body?"
"..."
Hawk met Gwen's gaze, offered a small smile, and prepared to return to the Underworld to finally interrogate Bruce and Andor.
He'd left them alone for a few minutes, which meant they had died another five times. Their voices were probably hoarse from screaming for mercy by now.
So!
Snap.
The acid rain stopped.
Hawk reappeared in front of Bruce and Andor, who now looked like discarded, acid-eaten ragdolls.
"This is your last chance."
"Tell me exactly what happened that day."
"Tell me the truth, and I'll move you to a more comfortable cell."
"Lie to me, or leave anything out…"
"And you will stay here for the rest of eternity."
"..."
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