Ken Shaw has never been in such a predicament. Granted, he'd killed metahuman offenders before. Ever since the inception of MAW, he'd been trained by FBI agents to be a member of a specialized metahuman task force in the city. The screeching was intense, almost as though the gates of hell themselves were opening.
Kneeling beside the chameleon-like creature beside him, Ken tried to stop some of the blood... or what he thought was blood. To no avail. He had no knowledge of the creatures anatomy and the wailing sounds coming from his surroundings weren't doing wonders for his concentration.
As the lizard-man's life waned before him, he swore, pounding the chest of the creature, realizing the futility of the measure. Then, as suddenly as they had begun... the noises stopped.
"...the hell?" Shaw asked, rising slowly.
Then, Shaw heard them... footsteps.
He took a sniff of the air as a tinge of body odor, sweat, and mildew entered his nostrils. Aiming his gun toward the direction of the footsteps, he yelled in a loud voice: "Freeze! PCPD! Don't move!"
The footsteps stopped. Slowly, Shaw began to make his way over to the direction he'd heard the walking.
As his eyes adjusted to the shadows the man was walking in, Shaw began to see the man before him - he was old, seventy at best, with dirty blue jeans, worn out Chuck Taylor tennis shoes that had to be at least twenty years old, and a tattered white t-shirt. His hair and beard were both unforgivably long and a rag was wrapped around his eyes, almost like a blindfold. His thin, malnourished arms were held over his head as though he knew he had a gun trained upon him.
"Y-you're blind?" Shaw asked to no one in particular as he saw the man's blindfold.
"I am, Detective Shaw," the man said. "But I am not the one you seek."
"What the...?" Shaw was taken aback. How did this old-timer could possibly know his name? It was very disconcerting. Uncertain of what to do next, Ken pointed his relaxed gun back at the blind man before him. "Who are you and how do you know that information?"
"My name is Terry," the man said in a deep baritone voice. "And I, like you, am a metahuman."
"Look, sir," Ken said, his voice wavering slightly, "I don't know where you got your information, but I am not a metahuman!"
The blind man smiled. "Just because you are unaware of the truth does not make it any less true." His features became stern once again. "But, we have no time for this. We must be off. They are coming."
"'They'?" Ken asked. "Who are 'they'? And who are you for that matter?"
"My name is Terry," he said with a slight smirk. "As for 'they'... well, we can get into that as we go..."
