Reflex
[The street light are dark and no sound comes from anywhere
near me. It’s as if the night just gave up and is waiting for morning to start
its day over again. Cats, dogs, crickets, cars… nothing. I wonder what could
prompt the world to just stop. The flickering street light above gives a slight
buzz which lets me know that the world is still spinning, but just not anywhere
around here. Something says run in my mind so I tense knowing that at any moment
the peace of silence can be torn asunder by the malevolence of chaos.]
[My dark skin is starting to gain a glossy sheen as the
perspiration sets in. The night wind against it causes an uneasy chill and
makes me realize that something is coming. There is a sound… far away but
coming closer. Headlights can be seen from a distance and a pop and cascade of
sparks follows with each street light they pass. The sound is the roar of heavy
motorcycle engines. My dad used to have one like these. A fat boy with a big
noisy engine wasn’t the only sound there was also the screams of laughter and
merriment that comes from joy in others pain and suffering. ]
[This is going to end bad… for them]
[You see I have this condition. It can be a mixed blessing.
I call it a reflex. When I tense up I can still feel pain and heat, but I can
receive no physical damage to my body and the sensation if very muted. That
sweat that comes out my pores is actually something much different. I don’t
what it is or why I am like this, but I know that when I can see something
coming at me, then I have nothing to fear. Nothing. So far I have tested this
on my own with nearly everything I can think of. Fists and feet, cars, bullets,
fire, hell I even tried a 50 floor swan dive head first. I feel the impact, but
there is no damage.]
[They are getting closer]
[It’s like an animal slipping out of its den and preparing
to leap at a food source unfortunate enough to walk past not knowing how close
to the edge of life it has wandered. I let my reflex cover my body, flowing
freely and preparing for what is now inevitable.]
[They don’t realize it but these joy-riders have come to the
end of their very short existence. I will try to keep them breathing, but that
is up to them more than me. If they are smart when the first one drops they
will run, but they don’t look particularly bright as most screech to a halt a
half dozen think that circling me will get a different result. Their leader… a
stupid mulatto brother missing too many teeth and way too many brain cells pull
an aluminum baseball bat and cackles. I wish I could back down, since I know
the outcome and walking away would make things easier, but I also know that
part of me that relishes this opportunity to shine through. I wish I knew more
about my life before I was adopted because then maybe I would understand why
this poor bastard was at best going to be rolling his quadriplegic ass around
for the rest of his miserable journey.]
[He charges and I hear it before it registers. CRACK with a
slight CLANG knowing that they are very confused about what just happened. The
bat is not a twisted mess and those that are less idiotic look scared, the
truly stupid ones look angry. Casting the heap of aluminum aside I see at least
two guns, one revolver and the other a small caliber automatic. I let my reflex
encompass me and hold it all in. The TING of the ricochet and the accompanying
scream lets me know that at least one of the shots found an unintended target.]
[Some run, so I guess they aren’t quite as stupid as I
thought. The ugly one decides that since brute force hasn’t worked up until
now, he should probably try the same damned thing and rides a distance away to get
a nice fast charge going on. I never been hit by a motorcycle, so this might at
least give me a new experience. I shake my hands at my side letting my reflex
roll down my hands and drip into a long stream and then I contract my forearms
forging a nice sharp blade. He guns it aiming straight for me and I casually
stomp my feet down forcing a spike of a few feet to anchor me into the street
preparing for the impact. I don’t move and he sees this as an open invitation.
Just before impact I can see his eyes and as I shove a bladed fist out in front
of me straight through the headlight of his hog, I can see terror and I know
that I am going to have to let my reflex take this one at the very least.]
[I use the motorcycles momentum and force my other bladed
hand alongside the first splitting it down the center and causing the gas tank
to rupture. The explosion and fire wash over me along with the legs and lower
abdomen of the rider. His upper half flies in the opposite direction and as the
flames die down I can feel me walking towards him. He coughs blood, his
compatriots no longer nearby as I most left on foot in a terrific hurry to
escape similar fates. He looks at me with eyes of a child and I know what he is
going to say. What are you? He sputters between gasps and wet gurgling
choking sounds. “I feel my heart reach out to him in this moment to offer him
peace knowing that he isn’t the only one thinking this. I wish I knew what I
was… I reply shoving solid fist though his forehead.]
“I wish I knew…”
So this really stemmed from reading my boy Victor Dandridge's comic The Samaritan and I really enjoyed the noir feel, so i wanted to try a character intro in the first person. I think it went well and I hope you guys liked it. Rage ON!
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