It was the typical winter’s eve in Bayville. After a light snowfall, there was a chilly nip in the air. Lights flickered unevenly from the alley ways and back-end parking lots, coming from fired started in barrels with broken up palette wood and newspaper. Huddled around them were the downtrodden and unwanted, trying to keep warm for the hard night. Christmas time was a lot less beautiful to them. Oh, but for the few that sank low enough, the holiday season was the perfect time to get some quick cash. Purse snatching, pick-pocketing, mugging, and extorting were all the favored career paths of the desperate and the lowly.
Mal would have just liked to go home that evening. He was tired from two back to back fights at the warehouse, and to be honest, he hadn’t expected any trouble on a night like this. Of course, he was wrong, only to realize it just as the man ahead of him grabbed a woman’s bag. The woman struggled to keep a grip on her tote, but the slippery, half-melted snow beneath her feet made her slip, and the snatcher immediately ran off. Luckily, he had just enough energy left to give chase. “Stay here, I’ll get it! Call the cops!” he said to her after patting her shoulder.
He darted around the alley after the man, spotting a crowd of people walking on the sidewalk ahead of them. To clear his way, or maybe just because he was a psycho, the purse snatcher pulled out a gun and fired int he air. The crowd, now terrified, split and scattered in confused chaos. Just after the snatcher passed through, they heard a shout, “Outta the way!!” And out from the alley came a man who was obviously a mutant, given the fact that he appeared as living, moving malachite. He was running fast to catch up, clearly without any signs of slowing or stopping.