Sep 21, 2025
Hangman’s eyes blinked open, hazy at first. He couldn't remember much after taking a briefcase to the head. He grumbled to himself about how he would return the favor to Marina the next time he saw her. It was dark where he was, but the moonlight spilling in through broken windows dimly lit the cold warehouse enough for Hanger to see he was in an old rundown distillery.
He heard a quiet click, just in time to be blinded by a single spot light. He recognized the self-righteous chuckle immediately as a familiar frame emerged, silhouetted by the bright light.
“Look at you” Moxley mused “all served up to me on a silver platter”