The Theory LU

The streets were quiet. Still. Unmoving aside from the rustling of the odd newspaper in the chilling wind. A group of five lurking in the shadows, waiting for their prey to come. And take that opportunity to strike.

"You sure he's coming?" one asked, gruff voice showing his boredom and anticipation.

"Without a doubt." A calm voice responded, it mixed with the air, yet was firm as stone.

"Smoke bomb's ready G." a softer voice spoke up, the smoke bomb in his hand, ready to confuse their prey.

"Perfect timing. Here he comes now." The emerald eyed one said, slipping smoothly into the shadows surrounding the group.

Each one left, easily moving unseen in the dark night, lit mostly by the flickering lampposts. An old man was walking past...just as predicted.

The soft voiced boy tossed the smoke bomb, it landed right by the victim's feet, releasing the smoke just before a post whose light had gone out last week. The man looked down, which was his first mistake.

The boy with the gruff voice jumped from his new position on top of the broken lamppost, he looped his arms around the man's neck, dragging his whole frame back as if he were attempting a backbend in his old age with an already hunched spine. It popped, sounding strained in ways that shouldn't be possible for a man of his age as the man made a startled noise of surprise and pain.

The emerald eyed boy easily swept his legs, while the other boy threw him, full weight to the ground, gaining a groan out of him.

"Smoke." The green-eyed boy said.

The boy, now without the smoke bomb was suddenly standing on the other side of where the man had been thrown opened his eyes, the blue of them not chilling in the right light, but to the man on the ground, startled, in pain, and scared in the murky sea of darkness surrounding him, that was the look death greeted you with. He moved back as if to escape the boy but ran into the legs of the fifth member.

He tilted his head down as he felt the man look up at him and let his shining red eyes gleam as if staring through the man to his very soul. He felt a shiver run through the man as he realized who these kids assaulting him must be.

"It can't be!" the man cried out, shaking in terror, "The Furious Five!?!?!!"

"Yeah. It's us." the gruff voice said, filled with hate.

"You'd do well to remember it." The last voice spoke, his purple hair sticking out from under his mask, penetrating red gleam unblinking in the dark as the man realized his fate.

"It's the last thing you'll ever remember." The calm-voiced boy said, drawing his bowstring back and releasing it with a twang! His arrow struck true, as the man's body slumped.

The timid boy, Smoke, went forward, checking his pulse, "Dead."

"Search him." G commanded and the group did so, looking as though they were feasting on the man's bleeding form, searching every pocket and robbing the man of his plaid shirt, trousers, hat and glasses.

Smoke spoke up, finding something of interest in the man's shirt pocket, saying, "Wallet."

"Open it." G ordered, eager to see what was inside.

Smoke did, he pulled out a few plastic cards, most being used gift cards and a debit and credit card. He discovered the man's name was Damien. He didn't care much for the gift cards, but he grinned when he found the cash.

"Twenty whole dollars." He quietly announced, "Enough for what we need."

"Yes." The calm one agreed, "We finally have enough."