Hellhouse Roadhouse, Danbury, Connecticut
"Why arnt we getting him?" whispered Mark, a grunt in the Howling Commandos, as he watched the purple guy sit on the pool table cross-legged and drinking tea.
"I don't know," Erik whispered back. "He just wandered in, said for us all to stay calm and stand still."
"I'm just wondering why we don't all jump him while he's sitting on the table."
"Yeah why don't we?"
"Are you two plotting to jump me or something?" He turned his purple eyes their way. "I think your time would be better spent cuddling each other and saying positive things to each other, don't you?"
Mark took Erik in his arms and they embraced. "I love that eagle tattoo on your arm, Erik."
"You have the best teeth of any one in this gang!" Erik replied.
"Isn't that sweet. Now that I've finished my tea, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Zebediah Kilgrave. Due to an accident several years ago in Croatia, where I'm from, I was doused in chemicals which turned me into this lovely purple colour. It also gave me powers. The ability to influence, and to a certain degree, control people. If I was some kind of narcissistic psychopath I could use my powers to bed any woman, steal anything, and generally be a horrible person." He stretched and got off the table. "Which is why I'm here. The Howling Commados are a biker gang associated with the terror group SHIELD. You run drugs for Nick Fury, supply guns, and honestly you are not very nice people. Some of you were involved in an MGH heist a while back, and you have chapters across North America."
He walked around the room counting the people in the bar. "Eighteen, nineteen, plus four staff. Okay, any staff members here? Put your hands up please."
The tubby barman, the old security guard and four scantily clad ladies raised their hands.
"Good, thank you. You are all going to head home. Travel safely and within the speed limit. You're going to have a long hot bath or shower and get a long nights sleep. Okay?"
"Okay." They all replied in unison.
"Off you go."
The all quickly and quietly filed out. Zebediah smiled. "Now gentlemen, now we will have some fun. You, what's your name?"
"Charming. I mean your real name, proper name on your birth certificate."
The big bearded man looked down at his feet. "Marion."
"Thank you Marion," Zebediah patted him on the shoulder. "You are going to collect all the drugs here in the premises and take them out the back for a bonfire. Only the illegal stuff, don't need to be burning cough syrup. Off you go Marion."
The burly biker trudged off. Zebediah smiled. "Don't look so worried you lot. I'm here to help you. It might not seem like help now, change is always hard. But with a little...push, you will all be on your way to becoming better people. Next, I need you, to collect all the illegal firearms here. Legal ones with permits can stay put but for example, that AK-47 stashed behind the jukebox, I presume nobody has a licence for. Off you go!"
"This is Alice O'Connor for Connecticut Live. I'm currently at the Hellhouse Roadhouse in Danbury, a known biker hangout and trouble zone for local law enforcement. Authorities and the media received a tip off about something strange going on tonight, and boy, was it ever strange!
"Seems the local chapter of the notorious biker gang, The Howling Commandos, have come clean; handing in weapons and confessing to a range of crimes ranging from petty theft to murder. Police have seized an arsenal of weapons also whilst a fire at the back of the roadhouse has been put out and drug paraphernalia seized from the ashes.
"When asked, gang members merely spoke of a man in purple who told them that they should tell the police about all their illegal activities. As yet this Purple Man has not been seen nor questioned by police, who potentially could be up for some of the reward money as several of the Howling Commandos had interstate outstanding warrants.
"I'm Alice O'Connor. Connecticut Live."
Nick Fury bit through his cigar as he watched the footage on Maria Hill's phone. "Find out where they all got sent and they are all dead by the end of the day."
Maria put her phone away. "Yes sir!"
"I mean it Hill! All of them get shiv'ed in the shower or have mysterious accidents; however it happens, they all die!" Fury spat his cigar out. "God knows what they've said already. They don't know much but anything they can give to HYDRA is something I don't want."
"Also get somebody to look into this Purple Man. I want to know if they're a cape or a cop."
Fury looked at his next in command, a devilish smile ran over his lips. "Since you're in such an agreeable mood Hill, you'd best strip off your uniform and get on my desk."
Kilgrave sat on the late night train back to New York. He told the other people on the train to ignore he was there, a simple mental push. He did wonder at times about the effects of his powers, whether he crossed lines or even if he'd gone too far.
"You're purple!" exclaimed the ticket inspector.
"Yes, yes I am," Zebediah replied.
"You one of those weird X-Men I saw on the tv, ripping up London?"
Zebediah shook his head as he handed over his ticket. "I'm afraid not. Now to make things easier, you're going to believe I'm your favourite musician. We had a nice chat and you'll carry on your normal duties. Sound good?"
"Sure does Mr Joel!"
The Purple Man chuckled at who he was in the man's mind, gave the inspector a hug and sent him on his way. Kilgrave the pulled out his phone and searched 'X-Men London News' to see what the man had been talking about.
(To be edited, plus pictures)