A Trapped Hero

 Ellis felt at peace. Every night, he ended his day in the same way. He methodically cleaned, polished, and repaired every piece of weaponry and armour he had locked away in his underground armoury. The satisfaction he felt upon seeing the gleam of his prized possessions was incomparable.

These were the same weapons, after all, that would remain by his side until his death. Ellis expected to die in a blaze of glory, in a battle against evil, alongside his many vigilante allies. But he knew that it was more likely that he would simply bleed out alone in an alleyway some night.

Shaking away his rather morbid thoughts, Ellis began to pack up his cleaning supplies. Just as he was about to lock the door to the armoury behind him, he heard a strange ringtone from his phone. Not his civilian one, of course. But the sleek burner he used for his vigilante work.

Only a few people had the number to that phone. Ellis, now acting as the vigilante Blade, quickly answered the call from Foxglove. However, instead of the deep, rumbling voice of the intimidating ninja, a rather nasally voice spoke to him.

“Blade,” The voice stated, sure of who he was speaking to. Blade narrowed his eyes. “We have captured Foxglove. If you want him back in one piece, bring us ten million dollars in exchange.”

Ah, a hostage scenario. Classic. Thankfully, Blade had plenty of experience with these situations over his decade-long career. He knew very well that if he did arrive with the money, the men there would simply kill him and Foxglove, and make away with the money.

“I don’t even work with Foxglove,” Blade scoffed, lying through his teeth. “He operates in DC, and I’m usually in LA. Why should I care about what happens to that murderer?”

The man laughed derisively. “You are a murderer as well, Blade. You and Foxglove took down my entire operation a few weeks ago! Remember that?” His voice was growing more heated. If Blade was there, he was sure the man would have been pacing and fuming. “32 men, dead! We caught you working with him on the security cameras.”

“Fine. Where should I bring the money?” Blade asked calmly, silently cursing the cameras. If he could get the location of the blackmailer, it would be easier to arrange an ambush.

But it seemed the mysterious caller was smarter than that. “Ah, I’ll tell you the location once you have your money. The longer you take, the more damaged Foxglove will be. If you try calling the police, or if I see any vigilante here but you, I’ll shoot him in the head.”

Well, there goes the plan of calling Crow and his little sister Ghoul for help. They were the nearest heroes. Blade sighed and assured the man that he would get the money. He had no intention of actually doing so.

The moment the call ended, he called Foxglove’s second vigilante burner, but got no reply. A desperate call to his civilian phone also yielded no fruit. It seemed more and more likely that he was truly captured.

He tried calling Crow for advice and help, but found no reply once again. Blade was beginning to feel annoyed. Was every single vigilante in a twenty-mile radius unable to be reached? He didn’t even have Ghoul’s number.

Blade left Crow a message, explaining the situation and asking for discreet help. The two brothers were amazing at stealth, and were basically a myth in their city with how rarely they were ever spotted. It would be a risk to Foxglove, but the men would be expecting a lone Blade. They would be taken off-guard by three enemies.

After waiting around for enough time that it could be plausible that he had gathered the money, he called the kidnapper back. After a few rings, he heard the nasally voice once more.

“You got the money?” The man asked, and continued without waiting for a reply. “Come to the warehouse outside Welton, by the fishermen’s docks. The one that had been bombed a while back.”

The call was cut, and Blade was left in silence. He sent the address to Crow, hoping for backup once it was read. Then, hopping onto his motorcycle, he drove towards the address.

The city was alive around him as he sped through, people enjoying the weekend with their friends at local bars. Blade was supposed to be at a party with his friends, but he had turned them down. He had been hoping to catch some sleep after a late-night stakeout the previous day. Looks like that's not possible anymore, he scoffed.

Just before he reached his destination, he found a small alleyway to park his ride. It was too loud and noticeable to bring any further. Hopefully, the anti-theft measures would keep it safe, but he held no hopes. Some people were truly stubborn, and truly talented.

Blade found a building that was rather close to the warehouse, and climbed onto the roof via the fire escape. From the roof, he made the jump over to the warehouse. When he landed, the roof made a groaning sound beneath him.

He winced. Hopefully they didn’t notice that. Grabbing the guns from his thigh holsters, he made his way to a window on the roof that would allow him to see inside. Unfortunately, it was so grimy that nothing was visible. The vigilante groaned in frustration.

Just as he was about to search for a different place to look inside from, his vigilante burner vibrated in his pocket. Hope surged fast in his chest, and he pulled the phone out quickly. When he saw that Crow was calling him, Blade felt relieved. At least he would have backup.

Answering the call, he held the mobile close to him, hoping nobody inside the building could hear him. But the feeling of relief from the caller’s identity was quickly destroyed by the words uttered.

“I saw your message, Blade. What do you mean, Foxglove’s been kidnapped? We just finished busting a trafficking ring, Ghoul’s helping him calm down the victims right now.” The young vigilante explained, confused. Even as he continued asking questions, Blade felt dread creep up.

It’s a trap.

Those were the last words in his head before a baseball bat from behind knocked him unconscious.