2 am writing

So I watched a video on this C-Tier villain and wrote this at 2 am. Imma post it here. Enjoy :3.

Brandon was on his knees. This was the worst night of his life. 

"God... am I gonna die dressed in this shit...?"

He doesn't know why his mind went there first. It was the least of his concerns right now but his mind couldn't help but gravitate to that thought. 

He was "The Crimson Night" in his original costume. Blood trickled into his mouth as he winced in pain. 

His mate was making him an updated costume, less edgy and more vampire inspired.

*Step.*

He was going to have a whole rebrand, shed the edgy name he picked out when he was 15 and become something less embarrassing to call yourself.

*Step.* 

He hadn't worked out the details yet.

*Step.*

For fucks sake his only power was controlling his own blood. He wasn't prepared for-

*Step.*

Oh god... what would his mom say... what about Jeff? Jeff didn't know he was out tonight.

*Step.*

"I'm only a kid" he thought, "why does this guy want me dead.

*Step-Step.*

The man now stood towering above him. Black coat dancing across the floor as he came to a stop. One hand was in his pocket, the other, hanging loose by his side.

Brandon struggled to move. Out of pure desperation he attempted to raise a hand, only to be met with pain. 

The man worked out his weakness fast, a weakness that took villains Brandon had fought 2 years to slightly figure out. Can't do blood manipulation with your hands with dislocated shoulders.

*Rustle. Tik.*

Brandon noticed a glint in the man's hand, now out of his pocket.

"Please... dude..." Brandon coughed, a bit of blood running down his chin. His ribs were pulverized.

"I don't know what I did to you, if I put you away or something but please... don't-"

Brandon's words are cut off by something cold and metallic pressed against his head. 

He stared up into the mask of the man. Tears began to trickle down his cheeks. God it hurts. He's never been hit so hard.

"Please. I just want to see my mom again..."

The mask tilted to its owner's right.

"Click." The man said.

Brandon's eyes were locked to the man. His mind raced with memories. Video games played, crushes had, nights spent in mom's room when he was a kid after his dad died. How was she going to live by herself? Oh god..god... 

"I'm going to die here..."

Brandon stared into that silvery target on the mask, but nothing stared back. He felt his own mask come loose from the crying and fall to the floor.

"Please..."

"Bang."

And then everything went black.