Esper

Esper Chapter 20: Stormwall

Part 1

A dark night that robbed the air of its pleasantly warm weather, only contributing to dismaying a group of hyperventilating teens. Lined up, kneeling on sharp gravel, the four were on the verge of tears as six large and unsavory thugs encircled them. With vehicle headlights blaring in the faces of the distraught young people, the men silently rummaged through the pockets of their black and beige jackets for weapons. "Stun gun on this one." One pulled the only weapon from a teenaged boy's pocket.

"Wait, I paid a lot for th-" Without warning the boy was struck! A punch to the side of his head sent him crashing to the ground, and before he knew it another gangster followed up with a kick to the gut! They didn't stop. Another joined in, stomping the boy who could only curl up into the fetal position as the full-grown men unloaded strike after strike on the downed teen!

"Stop it! Please!" A girl threw her body onto the battered boy, hoping that she could shield him, and they wouldn't hit a girl. She was wrong. One man yanked her up by her medium length brown hair, then delivered a hellish punch so devastating she felt it travel through the gut to her spine!

"Alright, chill out." An uninvolved thug, red beanie contrasted with the night sky behind him, said while casting aside an oddly colored cigarette. Frightening the already distraught children more was the handgun haphazardly sitting in the waistband of his jeans, made to be clearly visible. The girl was released and the trampling of the boy ceased, leaving him bloodied with broken fingers, wrists, and a crooked nose. "Remember what the boss said, we need to know who's in charge of these little fuckers. Don't kill them...at least not all of them."

"We-we'll tell you whatever you want! Please don't kill us!" Leader of their small group, the tallest boy with freshly set cornrows, begged. His response was being pistol whipped by the gangster's gun! He cried, feeling the bridge of his nose breaking immediately as the gangsters once more followed up! They stomped the teen out for a minute until the red capped gangster called them off.

"OK..." The obvious leader, red beanie, crouched down to meet the one remaining boy eye to eye. He lit another strange cigarette and took a long drag, with a euphoric feeling circulating through his body. Terrified, surrounded by thugs, and fighting back tears, the boy silently prayed for the police. Blanketed in the shadows cast by the bridge overhead as they were, hope of rescue was fleeting. Whenever the sound of a car's tires zoomed above, the boy wanted to stand up and make a run for it, until looking at that handgun once more. "...I'm going to try and be nice. Kid, what's your name?"

At gunpoint, the boy answered. "Otto..."

"Cool, cool. Otto, yesterday, 'bunch of our boys and girls got locked up. 'Few even died. Then, friend of mine got torched in that theater house. Broke my heart!" Otto noted the distinct lack of emotion on the man's face when saying that. "Now, I'm sure you get why losing a friend is pretty heart breaking, right...?" With the cigarette between his lips, the man pointed his handgun at the stilled downed girl!

"Uh...!" Otto halted, remembering the beatings the other boys had taken.

"You get what I'm saying?" Point made; Otto began to openly weep.

"I-I...get it!" The teenage boy was broken. With a situation unlike any he thought he'd experienced; fear had destroyed the child.

"Geez, quit crying!" The red capped lowlife shouted in Otto's face, which didn't stop the boy from bawling. "...Alright, fuck it. We'll get what we want from the other ones." He placed the gun's barrel against the boy's forehead. "Should've just stayed in school, kid. Shouldn't have fucked with the 365!" And like that, he halted. The sound of shoes disturbing gravel beneath them caused the man to turn his gun in that direction! "Who the fuck is there?!" On the opposite side of the bridge, someone stood, silhouetted by the orange lights overhead.