Mark sat down at his family's dining room table. It was a normal night for almost everyone except for him.
His mom Debbie Grayson laughed and his dad joked, nothing unusual in the Grayson household. They talked about nothing special, villain attacks, natural disasters, cases Mark's dad had solved, and deals Debbie had closed.
It was a normal day for Mark nothing odd at all except for one thing. Mark paused and frowned as he was about to eat another bite.
"Hey… where's Matt?" He sat up straighter looking around for his elder brother.
XXX
Matt Grayson was used to taking hits. It wasn't anything new or particularly special to him. Getting punched in the face was now a regular occurrence. Nothing special, nothing unusual, just part of any other normal day. He felt it so little anymore that he didn't even flinch when it happened.
So when the blow from his opponent landed this time it was easy for him to ignore. Then he blocked the follow up side steped the next one and countered.
It was a simple punch no different from any other. When a human punches another human in the face, a lot happens both physically and biologically within milliseconds.
A punch delivers kinetic energy from the fist into the face. The force can compress soft tissue, transfer energy to bones, and snap the head backward or sideways.
Depending on strength and angle, you can get bruising, cuts, lacerations, broken bones, and cartilage. But this particular blow led to one of the worst outcomes. A concussion, where brain function is temporarily disrupted. Combined with a knockout interrupting signals that keep you conscious by disrupting the brainstem briefly.
As a result of those factors Matts opponent dropped to the ground. Around him, cheers went up and people celebrated. Matt just sighed, it was another boring fight on another random day.
Underground fighting rings had lost their sparkle for Matthew Grayson. He'd been training to become a fighter for a long time but roughly a year ago he'd stopped going to his usual MMA gym. He didn't really care though. It wasn't something he could do for the time being.
He'd always planned to come back, go pro one day. But joining the big leagues just couldn't be his focus right now. Even so, he doubted it would impact him much as he had one major advantage over the average human.
Matthew was an extremely talented fighter. It didn't matter what he tried. Wrestling, boxing, kickboxing, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, MMA, it didn't matter to him. He won them all, it had become easy, boring even.
Winning no longer requires effort. At first, he had thought it was because he wasn't going up against true fighters. He'd been winning against athletes, people who learned combat in safe, controlled environments. Perhaps somehow that had made them weaker, like the difference between a wild animal and one raised in captivity.
So Matt made a simple decision he would fight for real. But nothing these people could do interested him in any way. In fact, he was disappointed in every single battle now.
Matt sighed, he was standing over a sink, cleaning up after tonight's fight. Water from the sink washed down his face, and he hadn't meant to stay out so late but he'd gotten distracted. Like highway hypnosis but if the highway was bashing in some guy's face and the car was winning plenty of cash.
"Oi Murdock! You in here?" A man poked his head through the door to Matt's private changing room. He was older-looking, late 50s probably, and he couldn't take a single blow from Matt without passing out anymore.
He didn't turn, didn't even move his gaze from the mirror. He just sighed again. Then he grabbed his towel from his side and started drying off his hair.
"I got your fight pay kid… but we need to talk first." The old man pulled out a brown paper bag full of what was probably cash.
"Listen kid you… We have been doing pretty well here. We both have. You win fights, I get the money, we split it, we both win, it's grand really but.." The older man, Tom, had taken a seat on a nearby bench.
"But what?"
"Well, you see Mr. Murdock… we… have a bit of a problem." The old said hesitantly. He'd seen what the kid could do in the ring. He was hoping not to piss him off, but in his mind, he still had taken precautions.
Matt didn't care what the old man had to say. Today was his last day fighting underground. His false identity is that Mr. Murdock is being retired tonight. It didn't really matter to him whatever silly problem the old man had come up with.
"Look. This is my last fight here so whatever it is…" Matt turned, picked up his shirt and jacket then put them on.
"It's your problem. Not ours."
Matt turned to face the old man walking closer to grab the paper bag.
"Listen kid this isn't-" Tom reached out to grab Matt's arm but he didn't even budge. He just grabbed the bag and shook off the man's hand.
Matt wasn't listening, he just started leaving, he needed to get home soon, or at least text. If he didn't he'd have a very pissed-off mom and dad to deal with and probably endless teasing from his baby brother to deal with.
"Look I gotta go home so bye. Hope we never meet again." He kept pushing, he made it to the door, stepped out, and was met by about 10 fully grown men, some of them with knives.
"Really?" Matt turned his head to look at the old man standing up again a frown on his face.
"Please kid, just hear me out alright? Nobody needs to-" Matt rolled his eyes and looked back at the group of armed men.
"So…" Matt smirked "Who wants to go first?"
"You think you can take all of us? Quit dreaming and give it up kid." One man yelled who was clearly the leader of the group.
"Fucking brat someone needs to teach him fucking lesson." Said another of the thugs, while rapidly twerking a knife in his left hand.
"Shitty brat you think that stupid smile makes you tough huh? I'll break your fucking teeth in." Another of the men this one tall black and muscular, each of his exposed arms was massive and vained clearly the result of some steroid use.
"Cursing doesn't make you cool, old man," Matt said slowly getting into his trademark fighting stance.
"Yeah well, you have a stupid haircut." Another of the thugs said causing everyone, even Matt and Tom to stare at him blankly.
"Well, that guy's a mood killer," Matt said, his growing grin fading back into calm neutrality. The group of men grumbled and glared at the guy who rapidly apologized.
"Damn it Carl this shit again!" The leader of the group shouted again. He was rather young late twenties probably, and from the way he dressed, and the tattoos covering his body, Matt guessed the man had some sort of connection to the Yakaza.
'I've never fought a Yakaza before maybe that'll make things interesting.'Though analyzing the rest of the thugs. None of them were too out of shape to be able to fight but only three of them, the leader and the black giant included, had real fighters' bodies. Though the black man had clearly been doping for extra muscle mass and maybe more considering his level of redness along his skin.
While they were distracted Tom tried one more time to convince Matt not to fight.
"Listen kid, this isn't worth it, you're going to get yourself killed, and maybe your family too if they can find them. You can't beat all of them! These guys aren't normal, hell! They don't even work for me they're ~" Tom said placatively trying to reach over and grab Matt's arm again only to receive the backhand of a lifetime.
"Enough of all this talking and waiting are you guys here to fight or not?" Matt said, growing a bit impatient with all their bickering. The thugs turned towards him.
He smirked and lifted a hand before gesturing for them to come at him.
"Wow, you were right Tom. He really is one arrogant brat." The leader said before pointing his knife at Matt.
"Bring him here." His thugs nodded and ran towards Matthew. The black-haired boy grinned widely. "Come and get me if you want me so badly."
XXX
A few minutes later Matt panted each breath heavily, letting out a puff of mist as he held up the leader of thugs by his shirt. The unconscious man groaned as Matt dropped him to the ground.
All around him the various thugs lay completely and utterly defeated. His head turned to look back into the locker room and landed on Tom.
"Oi! Tom Tom! What was it you were saying earlier?" Matt called out to the cowering old man.
He released the thug from his hands, the man's body slumping to the ground, and Matt began marching over to the trembling old man. Before Matt could reach him Tom suddenly stood up and pulled out a gun.
"S-stay back!" Tom shouted stuttering in fear.
Pointing it at Matt's head his trembled with fear. The gun shook in his hands but Matt didn't care he just marched forward.
"I s-said st-stay b-back god damn it!" Tom clicked the gun off safety, but Matt just kept slowly walking towards him.
"Come on. If you're going to shoot, then shoot me then."
"Wha-what? Why? What are you?"
"Just do it!" He stepped forward. A grin widening on his face his eyes going wild as his heart started thudding.
Tom aimed but didn't fire to scared of the monster in front of him to move. Matt's heart gleamed with anticipation. In all his fights in the street, underground, and in the ring, he had never faced a gun before. He's stood against all types of weapons from bats to knives and even one crazy asian guy with a samurai sword.
But a gun was a new experience for him, it had been weeks since a fight had made him feel this excited. His heart pounded faster and faster but as he slowly realised that Tom wasn't going to shoot he decided to make the first move.
"Tch pussy." He said before suddenly dashing forward as fast as he could. Like a blur, he moved forward the tension in his heart coming to a climax. Chasing the thrill of a life and death battle had led him to this moment.
*BANG*
An eerie silence filled the whole room.
Tom had pulled the trigger.
The gun fired in an instant.
The bullet soared through the air at 390 ft/s (120 m/s).
It soared directly at Matt's head as he raced forward eyes wide grin wider.
Tom's eyes went wide, and then rolled back into his head as Matt's fist smashed directly into his face crushing him down into the pavement with a violent overhand left.
"*Huff Huff Huff *"
Matt panted not out of exhaustion but pure joy and relief at not only landing the blow perfectly, but also managing to duck his head out of the bullet's flight path in time and crushing the skull of the mother fucker who tried to shoot him. Not that he hadn't asked for it of course but still the gall alone surprised him, frustrated him a bit too.
Matt shook his head glaring down at the old man, his hand still balled into a fist caving in the old man's putrid wreck of a face. His hand came up slowly and deliberately as blood dripped down his arm.
He slowly ran both hands through his hair spiking it up and trying desperately to ignore the tiny white tooth falling from his fist.
"Well…" Matt sighed observing the bloody ruin of a man below him and wondering what his next course of action should be. He reached down a hand quickly checking for the old man's very absent pulse.
He was dead, and Matt had killed him, there was no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
"Shit…" Matt sighed again shaking his head as he righted himself fully. He straightened out his outfit, collected his things, deliberated how to get away with murder for a few minutes then simply said fuck it and walked out the door.
Outside he checked his phone only to see five missed calls from his mom and younger brother.
"Fuck…" He sighed again, he seemed to be doing a lot of that tonight but that was just par for the course at this rate. He was honestly lucky his dad hadn't been out searching for him already.
He started walking home hoping the scolding from his parents wouldn't be too bad this time.
All was quiet, the streets were empty, and the
He stared up at the slightly cloudy sky and the big full moon. Normally, in a city like Chicago, light pollution would be far too high to see the stars, but for some reason, tonight Matt had no trouble seeing them at all.
He held his hand up to the sky as if trying to catch those same beautiful moon and stars in his very hands. He always wondered what was truly out there. He'd always been curious about space even as a little boy and for a small amount of time he'd seriously considered trying to become an astronaut.
He chuckled, the dream was a childish one but he was always rather talented in the sciences and had good grades so he always wondered if it was truly possible.
Fighting had become boring, and facing off against a gun had been a thrilling experience but the novelty had worn off already. Perhaps he truly should switch his career path if this keeps up. He wasn't foolish enough to try fighting any villains without powers but it was either that or find something else to do and he wasn't suicidal.
He cupped his hand into an O shape surrounding the moon above peaking through the clouds.
'Maybe one day.' he thought but soon his eyes strayed from the moon to his hand itself.
His hand. It was shaking harshly. It puzzled him.
'Has killing someone truly affected me so deeply? How strange.'
He took a deep breath and after a few moments, the shaking stopped.
Matt knew ever since he was a little kid that he wasn't normal. He realized that he was even different from the rest of his family as well. At first, it didn't bother him but as he got older and went to school he quickly learned to hide that side of himself from the world.
He always comforted himself but at least he wasn't a dumb ass like his little brother. Matt loved Mark he really did, and he always tried to do what was best for him but he wasn't stupid enough to realize what was wrong with him. Mark was very stubborn and more than that he tended to act before thinking at all. He was nearly planned, was reckless, and was more than a little arrogant. It was honestly kind of annoying if not rather endearing as well.
He always wondered if Mark was like him. Did he feel the impulse to fight and kill as Matt did as well? Did he enjoy the thrill of combat as Matt did? The answer soon made itself very clear.
No. No he didn't. Not at all.
But as Matt walked through the streets of the windy city out towards the nearby suburbs where his family lived he was eager to get home, but not too eager as to run. Mainly because he knew one thing better than anything else.
His strangeness aside, his odd instincts repressed, and his darker tendencies ignored one thing was clear in his heart. He loved his family and they loved him.
What else could matter more than that?
Currently, however, he wondered what excuse he should come up with to tell them so that he didn't get grounded.
Who was he kidding? He was totally getting grounded.
But more importantly, he wondered what was for dinner?
XXX
AND THAT IS CHAPTER 1!
What did you all think and what do you guys think of Matt's character so far?
I tried to make it a balance of what I wanted without making it too, edgy or cringe but I'm worried I went too far with Matt's darker side.
Also, a fun side note I almost ended up naming him Mike but I decided against it in the end.