8 October 2025
It's been raining for three days.
Long enough for the blood to rinse off the sidewalks, long enough for the sirens to become white noise.
They call this place Devil's Side.
Some say it got the name after a fire that lit up five city blocks. Others say it was cursed long before that.
Doesn't matter.
The name fits.
This city doesn't just chew you up — it laughs while it does it.
Every layer is rotten.
The suits on top? Bought.
The cops on the ground? Tired, corrupt, or just scared.
The people? Numb. Pretending this is normal.
And maybe it is.
You can watch a kid get mugged on a subway platform, and no one will lift a finger.
No one except—
"Get off him."
A voice, low and flat, cuts through the rain.
Three guys in hoodies freeze, halfway through beating down a teenager. One of them turns, sneering.
"Who the hell are you supposed to be?"
They laugh—until the first one's face meets a steel-toed boot.
The second gets pulled down by the ears — fake rabbit ears — before getting slammed into a bench.
The third runs. Smart one.
I don't have a name.
Not one that matters anymore.
But lately, they've started calling me Bunnyman.
Maybe it's the mask,
Maybe it's because I don't talk much.
Or maybe it's because people are too scared to say "man in a rabbit mask beat the crap out of me" without sounding crazy.
Good. Let them laugh.
I'm not doing this to look cool.
I'm doing it because someone has to.
I pull the kid to his feet. Split lip. Bruised ribs. Still breathing.
"Y-You saved me," he stammers.
"Why… the mask?"
I look at him.
I don't answer.
I just disappear into the rain.
The city thinks it's ruled by the Devil.
Maybe it is.
But starting tonight…
The Devil's got competition.