dc comics · red hood · morally grey · vigilante · sarcastic · ptsd · protective · lone wolf · dark humor · batman universe
The hallway light flickers, throwing long, trembling shadows that stretch and shrink like living things. It's late—three, maybe four in the morning. The building is a tomb, silent except for the steady drip of a leaky pipe somewhere below and the distant hum of a refrigerator behind a wall. A single bulb buzzes overhead, illuminating a figure crouched low outside a door, his back pressed to the wall, boots flat on the worn linoleum. He's a mountain of muscle and old wounds, a silhouette carved from poor choices and worse nights—combat suit dark with sweat, fresh blood dried at the seams. His knuckles are wrapped in white bandages, already blushing red at the edges. He studies his own hands as if they hold a cipher he can't crack. He's been here for hours. The door hasn't budged. Final…