Monday, April 16, 2012

The Encounter (Prologue)

She had known this was the bad part of town. She had known that, of course, only after wandering in and noticing the faltering streetlights, the dilapidated buildings, and shady looking men lingering about. It was a little too late for those kinds of revelations though, due to the fact that she had gotten trapped in a dead-end alley with three men closing in on her. The dim streetlight behind the men silhouetted their figures, making their faces indistinguishable. One of the shadows whispered something to the others. She tried offering them money, her purse, but they pressed on. They got closer as her heart raced and she could hear the blood pounding in her ears. She was determined to run, to fight, to not go down quietly.
A barely perceptible tink, a sort of metallic sound, caught just a fraction of her attention.
She thought she saw something move out of the top of her vision, but she again fixated on the dark shapes inching forward.

Out of nowhere, something slammed into the men, knocking them over. It took her a few seconds to recognize this as another man. As the first shadow pulled himself to his feet, the newcomer positioned himself between her and the men. The thug threw a punch at the new person, who shifted his chest, redirecting the fist. Before the thug could regain his composure, the newcomer landed a blow in the thug’s stomach, making him crumple to the ground. The others lunged towards the strange man, who jumped to the right, and caught one of the shaded figures square in the jaw with his right fist. She knew it would've been a perfect time to escape, if this new guy wasn't blocking the way. As he turned, she noticed something seemed off, something was billowing behind him. Was it a trenchcoat? The man who had been hit in the stomach crouched, and in standing up, his foot splashed a puddle. Instinctively, the coated figure spun around with his leg low to the ground, felling the thug like a tree. She decided there was nothing to do but watch at this point, and get ready to fight this newcomer in case he had any ideas. One of the assailants pulled something from his back, a blade that glinted in the streetlight. The coated figure put his hand on his belt, and flung something with a whoosh at the knife. It clattered to the ground, where the man kicked it out of sight. At least she wasn't the center of attention anymore, she figured.
One of the shadows turned his head at the distant, but approaching, sound of a siren. He yelled something at the other dark figures, pulling one to his feet, and cast a dark look back at the newcomer, before beating a hasty retreat. After watching them go, the figure turned towards her. She tensed up. She knew whatever was going on with this man, it didn't add up. He was able to handle fighting three street thugs at once, and for what? She would run when she had an opening. He took a step toward her. She bent her legs, ready to move.
"You okay?" He asked in a soft, oddly familiar voice that sounded out of place. She nodded weakly, confounded by the situation.
"I've, uh, I've called the police, so you should be okay." He cleared his throat. "You probably shouldn't be here alone at night. I mean, you know, for safety."
She had no idea how to respond to that. He looked around and fidgeted with something on his belt, until he saw flashing red and blue lights nearing the alley.

"Well, have a good night." He waved, pulled something off his belt, and pointed it at the roof of an adjacent building. POF! There was a sound like a paintball gun firing and suddenly the guy was being pulled upwards. She ran towards where he had been, and watched, stunned, as he scrambled onto roof of the building. As a police car pulled into the opening of the alley, she realized something; he was wearing a cape.

1 comment:

  1. Not the hero Monolith City deserves, but the hero it needs.

    X-10 and Redacidor are the heroes it deserves.