Hercule ran through the streets of Nice at night. Like the man of myths he was named after, he was a large, strong man. Not much scared him.
But at this very night, he was frightened out of his wits.
He pushed away some tourists who were dumb enough to walk the streets at this time of the night and almost tumbled over a bench. He breathed heavily as he ran toward the police station. Sure, he would get arrested, but he preferred that instead of-
"Bonjour, mon ami."
Dropping from the sky like a hawk, the vigilante known as Le Nuit Diable kicked Hercule right in the jaw. Then a kick in the groin that was followed by two solid punches in the guts. Nuit Diable grabbed Hercule in the collar with inhuman speed before he fell to the ground and slammed him up against a brick wall. Hercule coughed blood and stared at the infamous crime-fighter who was known in all of Paris. The man was dressed in a dark-blue cloak and was wearing a mask that covered his entire head.
"You will tell me everything you know." Nuit Diable spoke with a voice that could freezes a tiger's blood. "And then, you will die."
Hercule was speechless.
Then he screamed as spray-paint from a blue can was sprayed right into his eyes.
"I have all night." Nuit Diable threw Hercule to the ground and shook his can.
"Please, I... I will tell you everything! Just spare me!" Hercule began to cough.
"I won't. But I can end your pain. That, or make it drag out."
"He... He is hiding at warehouse 2 at the docks."
Hercule tried to stand up, but received a kick in the stomach.
"No, he is not." Nuit Diable said with his voice as cold as before. "you are just saying that to make this stop. But I will chain you up in an old shack where no one can find you, and if I do not return to end you, then you will starve to death."
"Okay, okay, OKAY! Hercule began to cry. "He has a yacht! A big one where he and his men are hiding."
Hercule couldn't see it because of the mask, but Nuit Diable smiled, knowing that his victim was telling the truth. "Where can I find it?"
It had been a good day for Astor Rastapopoulos. The human auction had gone well, and he had made a small fortune on the American teenage girls he had abducted as they were spending their vacation in France.
He was sitting in his private cabin, counting his money, feeling absolutely safe. His yacht had just left Nice and was on it's way to Corsica where his summer house was located, and there were twenty guards on the boat to protect him, five of them being superhumans.
And it would appear that they were all he needed to keep him safe as someone knocked on his door.
"Monsieur Rastapopoulos." It was Duval, his right-hand man. "We have a prisoner. I think you would like to meet him."
Rastapopoulos followed Duval to the deck that was covered in blood. Two of the guards held up the blind passenger who was dressed in a blue uniform stained with blood.
Rastapopoulos laughed. "Well, what do we have here? Ladies and gentlemen, we are in the presence of a celebrity! Le Nuit Diable, the fright of Nice!" Rastapopoulos removed the anti-hero's mask, revealing a severely wounded face. "You really thought it would be that easy? You did not think that I was prepared for you paying me a visit as I had business in you-"
Rastapopoulos was stunned.
The costumed man had bullet wounds on both his shoulders and it was clear that he had received the beating of a lifetime. And yet... he laughed. It was a weak laughter, but he laughed.
"What is so funny?" He asked the man who looked like he was about to die.
"My... my shirt... take off my... my shirt."
Rastapopoulos shared a glance with his men. He gave Duval a nod who then slowly buttoned up the vigilante's shirt.
Rastapopoulos screamed like a little girl as a bomb with a timer was revealed to be strapped to Nuit Diable's chest.
"Échec et mat." Nuit Diable made a faint laugh before he took his last breath and died.
And then, the boat blew up. No one survived.
Marie Barré noticed a few police men who were talking to same old woman as she left the train station. She guessed that they were asking her if she had seen anything last night when someone had found a decapitated head with a face painted blue by spray-paint.
The signature of Nuit Diable.
Marie sighed. There were superheroes all over the country, but she just so happened to live in Nice that only had the most infamous vigilante in all of France. He had appeared two and a half year ago, and the city had just not been the same. Sure, the crime rate had drastically been reduced, but the heads painted blue that appeared now and then gave her a bad taste in her mouth. Marie just wished that they could get a proper superhero, one who worked with the police and followed the rules.
But she would have been more than happy if the terror dressed in blue were here right now as someone grabbed her by the mouth and dragged her into a blind alley. She reached for her cellphone, but she had forgotten to charge it up, meaning that she couldn't use the built-in taser to defend herself. Someone took a sock and shoved it into her mouth.
There were three men. They were skinny and had pale skin. The one who had grabbed her forced her up toward a dumpster as he still had his fingers around her throat and held a kitchen knife in the other hand. One of the other men giggled as he knelled and awkwardly tried to pull down her pants. the third man held a phone as he recorded what was about to happen. Marie tried to scream as the second man was about to take off her briefs. The third man kept filming it with his phone, smiling like a circus clown.
But then, the third man stopped smiling, dropped his phone, grabbed the guy with the knife by the side of his head, broke his neck as easily as one would break a pencil in half, took the knife and cut open the throat of the one who was about to undress Marie.
Marie was somehow more horrified by being saved. She didn't say a word as the man who moments ago would have filmed her presumed to be rape now took the sock out of her mouth with a stonecold face.
And then he said: "Leave."
Marie didn't have to be told twice and ran as fast as she could as she while put on her pants at the same time.
The man looked at the two dead men, then at his arms.
He wasn't exactly a body builder, but he would do for now.
He left the alley in haste, calling for a cab.
After a twenty minute trip, the taxi chauffeur had brought his to an abounded construction site. The man paid the chauffeur and gave him a big. Once the taxi had left, the man grabbed a shovel that had been left lying around and began to dig. After a couple of minutes, the shovel finally made contact with the chest the man was looking for. He puled the chest up and opened in, finding a blue cloak, spray-cans and whatever else he needed.
The ghost of Pierre Remi had a new body and his uniform. Le Nuit Diable could once again spread terror in the heart of evil men who dared to harm anyone in the city of Nice.