Writetober 2019

October 26-Dark

Tyrone Johnson wasn't one to run from a fight, but he wasn't stupid. The three Korean boys had him cornered, and if the shank the oldest one held was anything to go by, they didn't plan to let him walk away.

He'd thought the only thing he'd have to worry about at juvie was keeping his head down and dealing with the racial slurs, but it looked like the gang rivalry existed here too. The oldest boy was definitely Kkangpae. Only they had that particular superior sneer. The younger two probably hadn't ever seen a fight. They were too nervous and twitchy.

Tyrone backed down the hallway as his enemies stepped closer. They weren't even supposed to be in this part of the detention center. Where were the guards? Did the Kkangpae kid have enough pull to pay them off? Or did they arrange for a distraction to occupy the guards while they dealt with the new Painted Dog trash? Whatever the case, Tyrone was on his own; he had been since he was arrested.

He backed into an electrical panel on the wall. He was out of places to run. "What do you guys want? I don't want any trouble. I'm here to serve my time and go home," He tried.

Either the Korean kid didn't speak English, or he was ignoring him. The kid lunged forward with his shank and tried to stab Tyrone in the stomach. Tyrone rolled sideways and threw a punch for the guy's head. The kid's reflexes were good, and he hit the Korean's shoulder instead. Tyrone leaned back against the wall and kicked out with one leg, using the extra leverage to push the Kkangpae back.

The scuffle continued a few more minutes until the Korean missed another stab and damaged the electrical panel. Sparks danced, and he dropped the shank, shaking his hand and cursing. Tyrone took the opportunity to make a grab for the weapon. If he could get ahold of it he just might survive this ordeal to see his little brother and sister again.

One of the other Koreans—who had hung back until now—kneed his in the head and shoved him away empty-handed, talking to their leader with concern in his voice.

Tyrone stumbled back against the wall, trying to blink the world back into focus. He leaned too far back and felt a small jolt of electricity down his spine. The world snapped back into place all at once. He was leaning against the damaged electrical panel. The shock didn't kill him, but the angry Korean with the shank likely would.

Tyrone didn't move fast enough. The second guy punched him and pressed him against the wall by his throat. The ringleader tossed his shank in the air and caught it, enjoying the show.

Tyrone grimaced at the jagged pieces o the panel digging into his back and the pressure on his windpipe. Oddly, the electricity didn't hurt. He could feel it trailing along his nerves and building up, but there were none of the muscle spasms or burning pain he was pretty sure should be present. And he was beginning to feel where the electricity was running in the wall and ceiling near him. As he blinked, the fluorescent overhead light flickered.

The ringleader stepped forward to finish him, and Tyrone held up an arm to fend him off, reaching for the guy choking him with his other hand. He saw electricity arc between his fingers before it happened. All that built up static shot out like a whip to hit his attacker square in the chest. The guy holding him got a similar jolt when Tyrone grabbed his arm to pry him off. The third kid gaped in horror for a moment before running, and Tyrone stared at his hand in disbelief. The two would-be murderers dropped, and the hall plunged into darkness permeated by the scent of scorched flesh and the echoes of a fading thunderclap.