Chaos Night - Anarch Machete (U12)

Dario Marconi was, if nothing else, a fair player. Anyone who linked up with him on Chaos Night was all but guaranteed safety, thanks to the Italian Anarch's frightening skill with his pistol and his favorite machete. In return, though, their night would be spent on a wild killing rampage right alongside Dario, and they had better pull their weight-- the man would not be denied his bloody pleasure because of an accompanying load.

So when a neckbearded man in a mid-quality suit approached him minutes before Chaos Night, sweaty and nervously trembling, Dario was certain he knew what his business was. He introduced himself as one Joe Firth and told Dario he needed his help.

"My name just went down the toilet. I need to finish the guy who did it before I skip town."

Dario grinned. He knew this man from the papers-- he was scum of the lowest order. But it didn't matter who he was. He was just Dario's meal ticket for the night.

"I hope you know what you're in for, boss man..." He handed Joe a handmade devil mask. "You know I don't suffer cowards."

"Yes, yes! Just please, help me!" Joe was still visibly terrified, but Dario didn't care.

As the Chaos Night sirens rang through the streets of St. Washington, echoing like a banshee's song from beyond the grave, Dario ran his fingertips along the flat of his machete. No matter what, he would have blood.