Nightwing & Angel - The Legend Untold

The late morning sun cast a dim light through the narrow alleyways of New York City, creating stark shadows that played across the grimy walls. Mark Fletcher, known as Nightwing, was deep in the thick of a fierce fight. His baton moved with expert precision, delivering powerful blows to the criminals swarming around him. With a swift, targeted kick, he struck one thug in the groin. The man crumpled to the ground, gasping in pain and joining the growing heap of defeated foes scattered along the dirty alley.

Mark let out a grim chuckle, enjoying the brief respite, when suddenly an attacker appeared from behind him. Before Mark could react, a punch landed with a satisfying thud, sending the new threat sprawling across the pavement. Loe Halloway, aka The New Angel, stood over the fallen thug with a smirk.

"Are you hanging in there, Angel?" Mark called out, his tone light and relieved despite the chaos.

Loe, with his usual sassy demeanor, responded, "Heh, look who's talking." His words were playful, but his movements were deadly serious as he continued to fend off attackers.

Mark grinned at his friend's response and turned to deliver another precise strike with his baton, sending another thug crashing into a stack of garbage cans.

The alley was filled with the sounds of combat, but suddenly the chaos was interrupted by a clatter of weapons. "Die, you vigilantes!!!" the remaining criminals shouted, their voices filled with rage as they brandished guns and rifles.

Before the situation could escalate, a burst of webbing shot through the air, disarming the criminals and sticking their weapons to the walls. The thugs' cries of alarm turned to confusion and panic as thick strands of webbing covered their eyes.

"My eyes!!" one of the criminals yelled, stumbling around blindly.

Emerging from the shadows with a confident grace was Michael Wilson, aka Spider-Man. His black suit with hints of blue shimmered in the morning light as he landed smoothly beside Mark and Loe.

"Spider-Man!" Mark exclaimed, his voice tinged with relief and amusement. "You're finished on your side already?"

Michael's suit gleamed under the dim light as he shrugged casually. "Yep, wrapped it all up. Guess I'm just faster than you guys."

Mark laughed, shaking his head in admiration. "Well, what can I say? You're Spider-Man."

Loe, who had been watching the interaction with a smirk, shook his head in his usual sassy attitude. "It's not that big a deal. There were just fewer of them over there."

Just as they began to regroup, the sound of more criminals approaching echoed through the alley. Their voices grew louder, and the clamor of footsteps signaled that the fight was far from over.

Michael gave his friends a determined look. "For now, let's do what we do best."

With a nod of agreement, Nightwing, The New Angel, and Spider-Man readied themselves for the next wave of confrontation. The alleyways of New York were about to witness another round of relentless justice.

As the last echoes of the fight faded, Mark Fletcher, aka Nightwing, and his allies stood amidst the chaos of the alleyway. The criminals they had subdued were now tied up, their groans and struggles muted by the webbing and ropes binding them. The late morning light began to filter through the narrow spaces between the towering buildings.

Michael Wilson, aka Spider-Man, dusted off his suit and said, "I already called the cops. They'll be here in just a few minutes."

Mark and Loe nodded in acknowledgment, their eyes scanning the alley to ensure no one else was lurking. Mark's thoughts were already shifting to the next step as he mused, "Another day, another round of justice."

Suddenly, a soft voice broke the silence. "Um…"

The trio turned in unison, their senses still heightened from the recent skirmish. Standing a few feet away was a young woman who looked to be around eighteen years old. Her presence was unexpected, and her wide eyes and anxious demeanor immediately caught their attention.

Loe Halloway, ever the skeptic, eyed her suspiciously. "Who might you be?"

Mark placed a hand on Loe's shoulder, trying to defuse the tension. "Let's not rush to judgment, Loe."

Loe huffed, his tone defensive. "I'm just being cautious. We don't know who she is."

The girl, clearly distressed, raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'm not a bad person!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling. "I swear!"

Loe's eyes narrowed. "A shady person always says they're not shady."

"Loe!" Mark interjected, trying to maintain a sense of calm.

Loe shrugged, clearly not happy about it. "Alright, alright."

Michael, observing the interaction with a mixture of amusement and concern, let out a chuckle before turning his attention back to the girl. "Why are you here?"

The girl's distress escalated as she suddenly fell to her knees, her hands clasped tightly together in a desperate plea. Her eyes, filled with tears, locked onto the heroes. "Please, please help me! I need your help!"

Her abrupt shift from nervousness to desperation took Mark and the others by surprise.

Loe's hardened expression softened slightly, though his wariness remained. He took a step forward, his voice softer now. "Hey, calm down."

Mark exchanged a glance with Michael, who was clearly contemplating the situation. Michael sighed, the weight of the girl's plea evident in his expression.

"Alright," Michael said finally, his voice steady. "Let's hear what she has to say."

The girl looked up at them with tear-filled eyes, her plea for help hanging in the air as the sounds of approaching sirens grew nearer.

.....

In the luxurious Hawkins Mansion, Emily Hawkins was at the grand piano in a beautifully decorated room. The room had rich wooden walls, soft carpets, and tall bookshelves full of classic books. Sunlight streamed through the big windows, giving the room a warm and inviting glow.

Emily Hawkins, with her vivid green hair and blue eyes, was at her piano lesson. Her fingers moved expertly over the keys, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't stop thinking about her boyfriend, Mark Fletcher, and sighed quietly to herself.

As she played, Emily thought to herself, "Mark, I wish you were here." The weight of her longing was palpable, and her emotions seemed to seep into the melody she was trying to master.

Mrs. Brick, her piano tutor, stood beside the grand piano with a stern expression. Her patience was wearing thin as she watched Emily's distracted performance. With a mix of frustration and exasperation, she snapped, "Again, young lady!"

Emily's fingers faltered, and she looked up, her gaze apologetic. "Yes, ma'am," she responded, her voice tinged with a mixture of embarrassment and determination.

As she repositioned her hands and prepared to try again, Mrs. Brick's frustration became more evident. "What are you spacing for?" she demanded, her tone sharp. "Focus on the music! Your mind should be on the piece, not on wherever it's wandering."

Emily's cheeks turned a bit red with embarrassment as she looked up at her tutor. "Sorry.." she said quietly, trying to shake off her distraction. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the piano again, pushing her thoughts of Mark out of her mind. She hoped that by concentrating on her music, she could win back her tutor's approval and maybe even find some comfort in playing.

.....

After meeting the girl, Mark, Michael, and Loe learned that her name was Mindy Williams—a blonde girl with dark blue eyes who worked as a part-time student in Chicago. But that wasn't the most surprising thing about her.

Mark furrowed his brow, his voice full of curiosity and concern. "Wait, Chicago? You're from Chicago?"

Michael glanced between them, his mind racing as he pieced things together. "Chicago… That city's known for its Prohibition era, where crime families ruled the streets."

Mindy nodded, her expression tinged with fear and sadness.

[Note: The Prohibition Era in the United States (Early 1900s was a time when a nationwide constitutional ban on the production, importation, transportation, and sale of alcoholic beverages led to the rise of organized crime. Italian-American gangs, often associated with the Mafia, capitalized on this, using violence and corruption to control the illegal alcohol trade. Gangsters like Al Capone became infamous for their brutal tactics, with terms like 'mobster' and 'gangster' defining this era.]

Michael cleared his throat and softened his tone, trying to coax more information from Mindy. "Go on, tell us what happened. Why are you here in New York?"

Mindy's face crumpled as tears welled up in her eyes. The trauma of whatever she had experienced seemed to hang heavy in the air, threatening to overwhelm her.

Loe, impatient as ever, crossed his arms and spoke bluntly. "If you keep crying, we're not going to understand your problem." His words were harsh, but there was a hint of concern hidden beneath his usual gruffness.

Mark shot Loe a disapproving look. "Loe, show some compassion."

"What?" Loe shrugged, raising his hands defensively. "I'm just saying, we need to know what's going on."

Michael sighed, trying to keep the peace between them.

Mindy took a shaky breath and wiped away her tears, steadying herself. When she finally spoke, her voice was filled with fear. "It's because of him… Alphonse Capone!"

The trio went silent, shock etched on their faces. The name carried weight, like a dark shadow from the past. It wasn't just a name—it was a legacy of fear and power.

Loe's eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait… what did you say?" His voice trembled slightly, betraying an old wound that had never fully healed.

For Loe, the mention of the Capone name hit harder than for anyone else. Long before he became The New Angel and was adopted by the Halloway family, Loe had lived a rough life. He was once an orphan running the streets of New york, raised by none other than Albert Capone—the son of the infamous Alphonse Capone. Albert was the one who took Loe in, and for a time, he was the closest thing to family that Loe had. But that was before everything fell apart and Albert Capone met a violent end.

Mark gulped, feeling the tension rising. "Capone… you mean the Capone? The crime family?"

Mindy's eyes widened in surprise when she realized they knew about the Capones. "You've heard of them?"

Loe's expression darkened, his gaze hardening as old memories resurfaced. "No, the only Capone we knew was Albert Capone—my boss who died back then." To Loe, Albert had been more than just a boss; he was a father figure before Thomas Halloway adopted him.

Mark noticed the shift in Loe's tone and softly called his name. "Loe…"

Loe didn't respond, still lost in the memory of a man who had shaped much of his past. Though he wasn't proud of the thug life he once led, there was a part of him that couldn't forget the loyalty and bond he had with Albert Capone, even if it was a twisted one.

Michael, on the other hand, was lost in thought. "Alphonse Capone... In my world, he was notorious, one of the most feared gangsters of his time. So Alphonse Capone exists here too, huh?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Michael realized they needed more information. He cleared his throat, bringing the focus back to the present. "Tell me, Mindy, what exactly happened?" His voice was calm but firm, urging her to continue.

Mindy took a deep breath, still shaken but determined to continue. "It started a few months ago. Someone recruited me—they said the company was just for clothing. At first, I was thrilled. I thought I had finally landed a decent part-time job. Everything seemed normal at first—sewing, packing clothes, regular tasks. But then…"

Loe, visibly tense, leaned in closer. "Then what?" He grabbed Mindy's shoulders, his frustration showing. "What happened?!"

Mindy flinched at Loe's sudden outburst, her eyes wide with shock. Mark quickly stepped in, placing a hand on Loe's arm. "Loe, calm down."

Realizing he'd scared her, Loe let go and took a step back, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry… I got emotional."

Michael shot Loe a warning look. "Remember, he's not Albert Capone. You've got to keep it together."

Loe took a deep breath, nodding. "I know… it's just… I need to know more about the family."

Mark gave a reassuring nod to Mindy. "It's okay, take your time. We need to understand what's going on."

Mindy, still a bit rattled, nodded and continued. "It all changed one day. They started making me do other things—things that didn't feel right. I was told to deliver 'special' packages, and it wasn't long before I figured out that these packages had nothing to do with clothing. They were full of cash, weapons, and worse… drugs."

Mark's eyes narrowed as he listened, his mind piecing together the situation. "So it was a front… and they lured you in with a legitimate job."

Mindy's sobs grew louder as she recalled the terrifying scene. "I saw them loading people into trucks—young women, kids… some were crying, begging for help. But the thugs just laughed, shoving them like they were nothing. I tried to forget it, but I can't unsee it. It's like a nightmare I can't wake up from."

Mark's fists clenched, his knuckles turning white. "Human trafficking… they're selling people like cattle. I knew they were criminals, but this… this is beyond anything I imagined." His voice quivered with rage, a fire burning in his eyes. "These monsters… they're going to pay for this!"

Loe, usually the one quick to crack a joke, was silent, his expression hardened with cold fury. "I've seen some ugly things in my time, but this? Trafficking people? This is a new low, even for scum like Capone." His voice was steely, lacking the usual sass. "We take them down—every last one of them."

Michael, always the strategist, folded his arms and nodded thoughtfully. "This changes everything. If what you said is right.... Then Capone is not just another gangster trying to make a name for himself—he's building a network, maybe one that could reach across the entire country if we don't stop it here." His voice lowered, dripping with determination. "We'll need to be smart about this. If they're trafficking people, they're not just thugs—they have powerful connections, resources, and protection."

Mark turned back to Mindy, his tone gentler now. "Mindy, I know this has been terrifying for you, but we need more information. Anything you can tell us about their operations, where they take these people—anything at all—will help us shut them down."

To be continue