Baton Pass

The masked man walked through the sewers, clutching the side of his rib which had a gaping wound with one hand, the other hand on the sewer walls, supporting himself. He'd lost. He knew that much. He was going to die, he also knew that. Those were two things that had haunted him in the past, when he had started this scheme. He'd overcome the latter, but the former was something that he was not willing to accept.

Which meant that the latter fear was also going to return.

The man fell to the floor, exhausted. He removed the helmet off his face, laying it beside him, his mind flashing back to his past life, his hard childhood, his reckless teenage years, and now, his death, to hands of the very thing that he had sworn to tear down with his own two hands.

It wasn't fair. Tears began to stream down his face. It was never fair for people like him. Never was, and thanks to his failure, never will be. He watched the slow running stream of dirty water flowing in front of him, the rats that scurried across the floor, avoiding him for some reason he alone knew, the roaches that did same, concentrating on some other things to disgusting to say.

And then he saw him, a boy. Or a man, he couldn't tell. He wore rags and his face was dirty. He watched him from dark, curious as to who had stepped into his abode.

The formerly masked man stood up with the little strength he had in his body, taking his helmet and approached the boy. The boy began to walk back in fear, stumbling and falling.

"I won't hurt you, boy." The man said, "My name is Richard Greeves. I…am just passing through."

The boy still was wary of him. So were the rats that scurried around him.

"What's your name boy?" Richard asked, curious. The rats weren't attacking the boy for some reason, odd.

"It…Its Rattenfanger."

"Rat… anything simpler?"

"No. It's my father's name. Was never named."

Richard sighed. Another orphan, thanks to the very people he was opposed to. The man thought for a moment and smiled.

"Boy," he began, "What would you do if you could change the world?"

The boy, standing up, but still keeping his eyes on the man remained silent. He looked around until his eyes rested on the water. He turned to him.

"Wouldn't be here if I could would I?"

Richard Greeves smiled. A ray of hope shone on his dream, the former one at least. He threw the boy the helmet. The boy caught it with both hands, almost dropping it. He examined it for a while, staring at in awe. "What's it for?" He asked him. But the man was long gone. The only thing that remained was the trail of blood.

The boy took the helmet, and walked away, nonchalant of the guy's disappearance. He whistled a tune, with the rats following right behind. He put on the helmet but it didn't seem to fit. Not to worry, just a few modifications and that would do the trick, he comforted himself.

He knew exactly what he meant, he knew exactly who he was. And he knew exactly what to do.