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"You can tell me, I promise not to share with a soul. How'd you get that scar?" Carol, my overly-eager "friend for life," reiterates. She's been the only person offering me a chance to hear my own voice. I'm not much for conversation these days. I much rather convey a message in as few words as possible. I keep most of the good stuff internal. Tonight, the diner is empty save for the cook and Carol. It's still early, I have some time before crime gets active. Miss persistent has been asking to learn more about me since the day I saved her. Finally, I decide to crack for the first time since my life changed.
"Fine... Try to imagine along." The story of how we met. I've since moved on but for Carol, it wasn't as easy. Though who could blame a woman in her position?
"It's a dark night, and the scent of a 245 is thick in the air. Two people, no wait, three armed suspects. The last one lags behind, seemingly injured in the preliminary struggle. The poor man they left behind lies unconscious. Robbed and brutally beaten, no doubt on his way home from a bar, as who else in their right mind would traverse a dark alley alone. At least his drunkenness numbed some of the pain. A wrong just took place and now I have to make it right, it's not primarily my job but it's the life I have chosen to live. Mainly because of the threat of danger, very few get a kick out of it quite like myself. I need a chance to be on my worst behavior, this situation was certainly proving to be the perfect opportunity. After stalking the victims from the rooftops above I had formulated a simple plan; drop down knee-first on the first perp, quickly sweep the second to the ground and deliver a finishing blow before taking the third criminal on hand to hand.
My favorite part of attacking is always the descension from my perch, falling through the air in a weightless, reckless fashion. I land as planned on the first robber slamming him face first into the ground, jarring loose a few teeth. I can hear the popping of a few facial bones as he headbutts the sidewalk. One down, I leave the first assailant unconscious in his blood and charge the second. The perp swings and I duck sweeping him off his feet as planned, landing an ax kick to the temple robbing the assailant of his state of awareness, much like they had done to their victim. The poetry of it all. Two down, the third assailant finally grasped what is happening and decides to launch his own counterattack. The assailant reaches into his waistband pulling out a Ruger, quickly firing three shots from the gun. Instinctively, I jump into cover dodging two of the bullets, only two. The situation is now much worse. I presumed the criminals might have a firearm, as I expect from all criminals I face in this town. I only hoped that I could defeat all three as quickly as I could. I'm not invincible, most of my planning is usually just my hoping that a fight ends with me still breathing. I try to remain fearless, as fear only clouds the mind, even bleeding behind a dumpster, I try to relax and breath.
There's always a plan B, in this case, I hate having to resort to plan B. It's stopping down to their level, but I'm left with no choice as a bullet has just created an opening in my fortitude . I pull a confiscated snub nose out of my waistband. I was planning to dump it in the river until I came across these criminals. I swallow my pride and fire two shots from behind the dumpster, hitting the assailant square in his chest, dropping him to the ground and rendering him debilitate.
