First Blood

I spent the first day sleeping underneath an overpass.  Recent experience had taught me moving around in the day was unwise - people react poorly to a face like mine.  They'll live on top of a heap of scum and filth and murder, but put something in front of them that really makes them look at the world they live in and they get queasy.

When the sun went down, I went up to a rooftop to survey the landscape.  Miles of glass, steel, and concrete.  Miraculous feats of human engineering - and here we were beating each others' heads in in the streets.

Yesterday, Honor had mentioned something about Hellions in King's Row.  They shouldn't be hard to find.  You couldn't throw a rock in Paragon city without hitting a dirtbag.

Sure enough, I rounded a corner and there they were.  Three scumbags trying to snatch a purse from some lady.  She was making a racket - screaming and crying out in terror while they tried to wrench the bag away.  People were just walking by like nothing was going on.  Didn't want to get involved.  Didn't want to interfere. Willing to let this lady die in front of them, if that's what it took.  The muscles in my jaw began to ache.

What if someone did step in?  What if someone said something to them?  Would they skitter away like the cockroaches they were?

"Hey,"  I called out, strolling up as casually as a guy that looks and smells like a recent tenant of the local morgue possibly can.  "What's the problem here?"   The three turned toward me.  They smelled like sulfur and sweat - the pentagrams on their T-shirts that glaring blood red color, matching the fury in their eyes.  Something familiar about them - something that made knots in my stomach.  There were three of them - the leader of the crew had a sledgehammer strapped to his back.  His compatriot was a dim-witted looking schlub clutching a revolver, and the third guy was wearing a mask that looked like it came from the Halloween bargain shelf of the local party store.

The leader put a hand into my chest and gave me a good shove, reaching up behind his back for the sixteen pound sledge he had strapped there.  "Looks like we got ourselves a contestant, boys," he growled from beneath the bandana that obscured the lower half of his face, "Let's show him what he's won." 

Things happened quickly then.  I don't know what my plan of action had been.  Maybe I hadn't thought that far ahead.  Maybe I was just angry seeing this lady getting picked on, and hadn't thought deeper than that.  But I was in it now - I was outnumbered and outgunned.

As sledgehammer shoved me, I grabbed his wrist and turned to my left, drawing him off balance.  My left palm came smashing into his elbow as my right arm cranked back on his wrist, and I felt his elbow snap and invert.  A bloody howl came up from his throat.  Revolver raised his pistol, and I yanked on sledgehammer's broken arm, spinning him around in time to soak up three or four bullets.  With a solid kick to the ribs that gave a healthy crunch, I sent sledgehammer tumbling into Revolver and both of them went to the ground.  I was right behind, landing on the dog pile on all fours. 

Revolver was trapped under the lifeless body of his boss - so I started jackhammering my fist into his face, the back of his head rhythmically bouncing off the concrete with every blow.  All of the rage and confusion of the past few days came boiling up.  I kept pounding, the popping and crunching sounds turning into wet smacking noises.  Streaks of red were spread several feet across the pavement.  The sounds echoed off the buildings.  Somewhere, someone was screaming.

I got to my feet, my chest heaving.  Red liquid was streaked up my arm, dripping off of my fingertips onto the ground.  The hellion in the mask was at a dead run, a quarter of a mile away by now.  The woman was standing there, clutching her purse, her mouth open in a silent 'O', tears standing in her eyes.  

I looked at her.  Then down at the bloody mess at my feet.

"Yeah, well..."  I muttered.   There didn't seem to be anything to say.

I turned and walked off into the darkness to the sound of approaching sirens.