The man in the blue suit ran down the New York City street, panting for breath as he push himself to go faster. The moon was covered by clouds and he desperately tried to avoid the glow from the street lights. He occasionally glanced behind him, and slightest trace of movement drove him onward. His right hand was still wrapped around a revolver, but he knew it wouldn’t do him any good.
He heard a creaking noise behind and above him. He looked back and faintly outlined by the street light and crawling along a tenement wall, he saw him. If it was a him. The way it moved, the way it killed, it could have been an it. Or a devil. The man quickly raised his revolver and fired wildly, shooting out the light of the lamp. But in the last explosive burst of light he saw the thing that was hunting him leap from the wall and land on the street. Half of it’s body was crimson, the other half so blue it was nearly black. It’s eyes were two white slits, and it’s face was frozen in a blank expression. And around it’s waist, there was the glint of metal.
“Keep away! Stay the hell away from me!” the man yelled. He fired his revolver again twice. The devil dodged the first bullet, but the second struck it in the chest. The devil staggered back by the impact, then looked up and glared with it’s uncaring eyes at it’s prey. In a swift gesture the devil reached behind his back and drew something from a scabbard. “Why don’t you leave me alone?! Why don’t you die?!” The man took aim, then screamed in pain, as the boomerang the devil had thrown collided with his hand and made him drop his gun. The boomerang rebounded back to the devil who effortlessly caught it.
The man cradled his injured hand and stared in terror, then took off running down the street again. The devil strode after him, boomerang in hand and ready to throw. A black sedan screeched to a halt into the intersection up ahead. The back door opened and a blond man in a suit and fedora urgently waved to the man. “Come on! Get in the car! Let’s go!” The man in the blue suit sprinted toward the car. It was only a few more feet away. Then he heard a strange whistling sound drawing closer behind. He looked back for moment… just in time for the boomerang to crash into his skull. He stood poleaxed for a few seconds as the boomerang returned to it’s owners grip, then he fell lifeless to the pavement.
“NO!” the man in the car screamed. He jumped from sedan and drew a machine gun. He fired a spray of bullets toward the devil, who leapt into the air twenty feet to the wall of a building, then seemed to disappear into the shadows. “Frank!” called the man at the wheel. “We got to get out of here!” Frank ran to the prone body of his fallen friend. Two more men in suits and fedoras leapt out of the sedan and chased after him. “What are you doing? The cops will be here any minute!” Frank knelt down on the ground and bent over the body. Then he straightened up, nearly falling backwards. “He’s breathing! He’s still breathing! Come on! Help me get him to the car!”
“What are you, nuts?! You saw that hit! If he’s not dead, he won’t last much longer!” Frank got to his feet and aimed his machine gun at the other men. “And I say you get him in the car! Or there will be two bodies for the cops to find! Get him in the car. Now!” The two men reluctantly picked the man in the blue suit up by his arms and legs and carried him to the car, as Frank kept watch on the rooftop where the devil had disappeared.
With the man in the blue suit laid out in the back seat, the other two men got in front and shouted to Frank. “Let’s get out of here already!” Frank backed up a few steps before running to the car and climbing in the back. “Frank, he isn’t gonna make it!” the driver said as Frank slammed the door. “Quit bellyachin’! Get us to Doc Harrow’s! He can fix him up!” The man in the passenger seat looked back in disgust. “That quack? We’d have better luck takin’ him to Doc Frankenstein!”
“He don’t have time! Now get us to Harrow’s and…. Oh God! DUCK!” Frank ducked over in his seat and covered his head with his hands just as the boomerang smashed through his car door window. It whistled through the air and crashed through the opposite window and into the night. “Drive! Drive! Go! Go!” Frank’s screams were drowned out by the screech of the tires as the sedan tore off down the streets.
On the rooftop of a nearby building, the devil watched as the sedan sped away. He placed his boomerang in the scabbard on his back, then felt the bruise on his chest left by the impact of the gangster’s bullet on his bulletproof costume. The devil was not satisfied with the results of his mission. Those men were scum that polluted this city. None of them deserved to draw breath. The devil knew that there were many such men that needed to be dealt with. But their time was drawing to an end. For now, there was a devil in Hell’s Kitchen.
Marvel Studios, in association with ABC and the Broadway Beyonder
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