Killstreak

### Relatives

According to him, he killed them all when he was around 17. If various police records of his growing victims list across the world are to be believed, he’s probably not lying.

## Personality/Mentality

Some people try to justify their actions. To rationalize in one’s head: “Is what I’m doing really okay?” The truth is, it doesn’t mean a thing to some people. Some people just do what they like, because they *feel like it.* Some people don’t need a reason. Some people just want to feel the rush of adrenaline, to feel their heart pounding, to feel *alive*...

## Backstory

The following is a salvaged audio recording from a single interrogation session held in Blackwall City Mental Asylum of the killer known by law enforcement organizations across the eastern seaboard, and beyond, as “Killstreak”. The following content may contain information sensitive to some listeners. Listener discretion is advised:

The sound of static comes across, before there is a click, and the voice of a man can be heard.

*”Has the recording begun? Good. Make a note, today is August 18th, 2036. Interrogation beginning at 16:00 hours. Now then, thank you for agreeing to this, Killstreak. You’ve been a most cooperative subject. Anything to declare before we begin?”*

A second man’s voice can be heard, younger, raspy, distorted by what sounds like electronics. The voice sounds sarcastic, casual, laid back, mocking, yet almost... Disturbing... Dangerously intelligent.

**”Your mustache needs a trim. Also, there looks to be a vein in your left eye that could use a look at by a licensed Optometrist. It’s drafty in here. And lastly, I have no intention of ending up in the chair doc... Just a word of warning.”**

A nervous chuckle, and the sound of a throat being cleared.

*”Eh, erm. Heh. Yes well, actually our hope is to rehabilitate you. Someone of your skills, could be rather useful, if used for the right reasons. So, no, you won’t be... Err... ‘Ending up in the chair’... So to speak...”*

Two feet scuff the floor and push the chair back, and then a thump as the feet rest on the table. Clearly, leaning back, relaxing.

**”So, your higher-ups want an attack-dog assassin kept on a leash that they can send to go silence someone who gets too mouthy?”**

Silence.

*”If you please, we’re asking the questions here... So let’s begin. And put your feet down. I won’t ask twice.”*

A mocking laugh.

**”Fine, fine. Just getting comfy. The straight jacket isn’t doing wonders for my back ya know...”**

*”Let’s start with statistics. While reports date back to the year 2030, and law enforcement is well aware of your... Record... Hell, it’s a mile long, many of them have been left baffled as to your exact victim count. Would you be able to share, how many lives you believe you’ve taken?”*

A sound of someone blowing air through his mouth, then a pause.

**”Whew... That’s an interesting one. Actually didn’t expect it. See, here’s the thing. Asking me how many people I’ve killed, that’s like me asking how many hamburgers you’ve eaten in your lifetime. Though, to be fair, judging from your breath, I’d hazard a guess you had like, two, less than an hour ago. You know those things are loaded with cholesterol right?”**

An uncomfortable shuffling noise is heard, before the man who is apparently the interrogator clears his throat and speaks again, with less confidence.

*“Erhhrm. I see... Next question... Judging from your file, Zedd... Yes, we know that’s your real name. Zedd Virli, you’d be about about 23 right now, correct? Says here the reports started coming in about your killings during 2030, as we stated before. You would have been about 17 then, wouldn’t you? Seems pretty young.”*

**”Well doc, you and I have both heard tales about villains who started younger. If this is about appealing to my youthful innocence, you’re wasting your time. I don’t really have regrets about who I am.”**

*”Don’t you have a family somewhere? What would they say if they could see you now?”*

**”Ha! HAHAHAHAHAHA! THAT’S RICH! MY GOD! ACTUALLY TRYING TO MAKE ME FEEL GUILT?! PRICELESS! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!”**

The sound of two guns being drawn plays, as well as the clicks of two safeties being disengaged.

*”Stand down. He’s not going anywhere. He’s bound with more security measures than any other prisoner in his cell block.”*

The guards can be heard reengaging he safeties on their weapons and returning them to the holsters.

**”Ah... Ahahah... That’s just two good... If my hands were free, I’d be wiping away tears... You’ll have to pardon my little outburst... It’s just... See, my family... They’re all dead...”**

*”Oh?”*

**”Yep. Ready for shocker number two? Guess who did the deed.”**

*”You mean?”*

**”You betcha! You’re lookin’ at him pally! Snuffed each of them myself. They were my first victims. I kinda had to, ya see. I knew they would try to stop me. Hold me back. They just, had to go.”**

The chair creaks as Killstreak can be heard leaning back.

**”Necessary casualties. It wasn’t easy, but it had to be done. I wasn’t going to let nothin or no one stop me.”**

*”Isn’t there anyone you care about? Someone you love? A single person on this earth you’d love enough to listen to reason?”*

Stunned silence from Killstreak. That clearly hit a nerve. After a long pause, lasting almost thirty seconds, a shuddering breath can be heard, as with a frustrated growl, Killstreak speaks.

**”Rrrrgggghhh... I... Did... Once... She didn’t... Love me back... Left her... Knew she couldn’t stand me... If she could see me now... Grrrrr......................... DAMN YOU, DAMN HER, DAMN EVERYBODY! DAMN YOUR MISGUIDED ATTEMPTS TO TRY AND GET ME TO TURN!”**

Guns are drawn again. More clicks.

*”I SAID STAND DOWN!”*

Silence.

*”Someone with your talents.... Don’t you see you could have helped people? You could have been a hero! Instead of taking these lives in senseless violence, due to heartbreak and pain, you could have alleviated the suffering of others! You—“*

**”Stow it doc.”**

*”What?”*

**”I SAID STOW IT FLESHBAG!”**

*”...”*

**”Now, I think we’ve come to what you’ve REALLY been wondering about. Clearly, you’ve got the wrong idea. This path I’ve chosen, it ain’t about revenge. It ain’t about pain. It ain’t about takin what I deserve. Hey! Tape guy! You better be recording this! People need ta hear this shit!”**

Uncomfortable shuffling can be heard in various areas. Clearly all the people present are unsettled.

**”Listening? Good. Here’s the deal pal. I get it. People like you... Always so sure that everyone’s ‘good’ deep down. That villians like me, we didn’t want to be this way. ‘Oh! Poor baby! UwU! He just got given a bad life! It wasn’t their fault. They’re good people they’re just misguided! They think what they’re doing is right! All we have to do is show them how to be better people!’ Do I paint a clear picture of our society these days?”**

Nothing but quiet discontent.

**”Yeah I do. Your face says it all. Here’s the thing pally. You people who romanticize villains like us, it’s a noble gesture really. Good on ya. But has it ever occured to ya that some of us don’t WANT to be saved?”**

*” I err... Ah...? I don’t follow...?”*

**”Course you don’t. Look, the long and short is, not every villain case is about the misguided poor unfortunate who got dealt a bad hand and needs a course correction. Not every villain needs a complex philosophy, or a REASON to do what they do. Some of us...”**

A creak as Killstreak leans forward in the chair, and rattling can be heard as Killstreak is evidently shaking. Delight begins to fill his voice.

**”Some of us just do what we do... Because it we LIKE IT... Some of us aren’t heroes in disguise. Some of us don’t justify to ourselves that what we’re doing is right. I KNOW what I’m doing is wrong. But the fact is, I... Just do this... Because IT FEELS FUCKING GREAT!”**

Stunned silence.

*”I think that will be quite enough. Guards. Escort him back to his holding cell. Solitary confinement. Level F.”*

A scraping sound as the chair is drawn back, and Killstreak stands up.

**”Oh don’t worry bout’ it doc... I’ll be JUST fine on my own... I’ll show myself out...”**

*”What are you—”*

**”HHHRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!”**

A sudden sound of shattering, tearing and breaking, followed by:

*”He’s broken containment! GUARDS!”*

Gunshots fired. Shattered glass. Sounds of a struggle. Then, the screams begin to ring. In the background, a man can be heard trying to get on an intercomm.

“Subject has broken containment! I repeat! Subject has broken containment! Send reinforcements! Security threat level BLACK! SEND HE-LLL—URK... GAK... Grrrrggglll....”

And with that last cry, the sound of one last body slumping to the ground can be heard. Then footsteps, approaching the recording equipment.

**”Shoulda’ taken the helmet off. Idiots... It’s sad what passes for psych ward security in this town. course then I’d have been done for... Guess it’s best not to look a gift horse in the mouth...”**

Killstreak is heard muttering to himself as he begins to fiddle with the equipement.

**”Alright. Shutting this thing off and splitting. Can’t say it hasn’t been a blast! To the person who finds this tape, give yer kids this message: Villains ain’t always the ‘good’ guys. We don’t need your damn pity or love. Don’t play with knives, stay in school! This has been, a publicservice announcement. Killstreak, signing off. Now where’s the damn cutoff.. Ah, here it I—...”**

Cut to static. Recording ended.

A news reporter speaks on a tv screen.

”Shortly after the end of this recording, police report Killstreak escaped from the Asylum and has evaded detection since. Nobody knows where he may strike next. We’ve had 5 years now since this incident without a peep from the feared killer. Not so much as a slit throat or missing person’s case. In fact, most of the public has *forgotten* the terror of those years. So where is he now? Is he still out for blood? And most importantly... *Where will his knives of terror strike next?*”

The TV switches off, in a gloomy, broken down room, overgrown with creeping ivy and dead vine. A small hole in the ceiling lets in a mass of kudzu and a shaft of green tinted sunlight through the foliage. In the semi darkness of the room, a small sigh is heard. Then shuffling feet in the gloom.

“Aaaahhh... Acropolis... What a town...”

Slowly, a silhouette begins to step out of the shadows. Then a machine whirs to life.

In the darkness, two green glowing Xes flicker to life, flaring and glowing a brilliant neon green. A twisted smile curls up, as lights begin to flicker, and various machinery lights up and begins to whir.

A mass of tubes and wires begin to pump glowing green chemicals into a silent, dark figure.

”A city of heroes... Now this... *This*... Is where the *fun* is!”

## Resources

Currently hiding out somewhere in the ruins of an old abandoned mental asylum outside of Acropolis city limits. Has possession of a vast array of stolen kitchen knives, as well as assorted medical and computer equipment he uses to create his own unique stimulants.

## Equipment/Weaponry

* Knives. Kitchen knives specifically. He loves his kitchen knives.
* Chemical Augmentation Helmet, or C.A.H, unable to be removed for long periods of time without killing him.

## Specializations

* Knife fighting
* Running, evasion, tracking
* Advanced knowledge of stimulant concoctions and physiology augmenting chemicals.
* Demonstrates proficient precision in throwing knives.

## Quirk

### Type

Mutation

**Pulsing Veins**

Killstreak’s true biological quirk, Zedd’s veins are constantly shifting, adapting, and rearranging themselves. His entire circulatory system stretches, grows and regenerates to accommodate any toxin or poison, without bursting or failing, and when cut open will even seal itself off, before growing a new vein-stem around the wound to redirect the blood flow. Effectively allowing him to suffer any cut to his body and not bleed, no matter how deep.

**Chemical Augmentation Helm/C.A.H.**

This piece of equipment was custom created by Killstreak in his early days, when he was first testing the limits of his quirk. The helmet is strapped to his head by numerous wires and harnesses, so much so that even *he* doesn’t remember how to take it off. He seems fine with wearing it constantly, despite the numerous tubes, hoses, and needles running from it into his body.

The helm is effectively a network of IV’s plugged into his neck, back, shoulders, spine, and arms. Stored in reserves within the helmet is a powerful concoction of stimulants he’s spent years perfecting. This chemical is so potent, any normal man attempting to use them would enter cardiac arrest from sheer circulatory overload, followed by the veins in their body bursting from the strain.

He’s created this specifically with quirk in mind, taking advantage of his adaptive veins to know that, unlike most, he won’t die from a little caffeine overdose.

* These stimulants pump themselves into his body at a constant rate, boosting his speed, strength, reflexes, awareness, and combat capabilities, effectively making him a killing machine. When activating the helm, his max speed is 60mph.

* All parameters are boosted to add 2kn to any melee attack, 1kn to ranged attacks. His throwing speed is increased to 20m/s.

The boost to awareness tends to make him notice tiny insignificant details when not in combat, or when he’s not moving around a lot, which can lead to him coming off as “jumpy” or “twitchy” during conversation. However, he doesn’t really gain a significant advantage in combat from his hyper charged awareness. He’s just *really* observant.

### Weakness

**Crippling Dependancy**

Unfortunately, having spent so much of his life being boosted by these stimulants in his C.A.H, the problem of dependency comes into play. His heart and body have run on them for so long, that they can’t run without them, effectively going into withdrawal, coma, and then full vital shutdown and death if he goes too long without the stimulants stored in his helm.

While he can always replenish his supply from his main hideout, he still has to *be* there to refill his helm if it runs out. If kept busy for too long in a fight, his helm might run out of stimulants from using his powers, effectively tiring him out.

* If his helm runs completely out of stims, he will only be able to survive for 8 turns in combat before entering withdrawal, with a 4 turn coma period before death.

On top of this, removing his helmet or ripping out the tubes from his body, or anything that interrupts his helmet from giving him his stimulants, can weaken him greatly, as well as also cause the countdown to death should all the helm’s connections to his body be removed. So not only would removing his helm and stimulants effectively render him powerless, but he’d eventually die if kept off of them for too long. As a melee fighter, he has to be fast when fighting up close and personal to avoid the possibility of entanglement or ensnarement.