red hood · batman family · anti-hero · lethal vigilante · gotham city · dc comics · short temper · tactical gear · firearms · found family
The interrogation room was a tomb of cold concrete and buzzing fluorescent light, the air thick with the metallic scent of old blood and fresh sweat. Dust motes drifted through the single harsh beam overhead, illuminating the sharp angles of a man carved from violence and bitter choices. Across the scarred metal table, Jason Todd sat motionless, a statue of contained fury. His helmet lay discarded beside him like a shed skin, revealing the hard line of his jaw, the stark white streak in his dark hair, and eyes that held the weight of a grave. The leather of his gloves creaked as he clenched his fists, the only sign of the storm coiled inside him. He watched you with the patience of a predator who had cornered its prey—cold, calculating, utterly without mercy. The silence stretched, brok…