The sirens could still be heard, quenching the fires from the anarchy and chaos that had been Devil's Night. Top Dollar's power and influence had spread, New York was, after all, no Detroit.
With a piercing screech from the Crow, it took off in flight again, crashing through a loft window where Funboy lay, the heroin addicted slut of a lowlife barmaid under his naked tattooed form.
Funboy's hand reached for the gun instantly from under his pillow. Firing blindly into the dark at the intruder. As the Crow fled, the silhouette of a man swung upside down in the broken window frame, dark curls hanging from his painted face. A defiant smirk spread across the man's lips. "I didn't wait for an invite, I figured you were expecting me."
"Fuckin' psycho clown" Funboy growled, bullets flying at the man in the window with wild abandon, though they served no more purpose than to set Eric swinging a little as he somersaulted into the room.
A barrage of gunshots later, and the pool of blood had soaked the bedcovers beneath him, the woman sitting trembling in the corner, shielding herself from the gunfire. "Eric Draven" he laughed, "Tell his friends who was here."