The men huddled by the door had an odd appearance. They looked about and at each other the way a child does before defying their parents. They were up to no good, Nightcide knew that. Felt it. He clenched the hand holding his cloak and narrowed his eyes. The men were speaking amongst themselves sporadically, and now they appeared as if they had made a decision about whatever they were discussing. The one closest to the light took a final glimpse down the dark alley on his left and pulled something out of his pocket slowly. Nightcide recognized it immediately; a golden locket that belonged to the girl's mother. Big mistake. He reached behind his back and grasped the small pouch he'd attached to his belt. Inside were a handful of ball bearings. He laced his fingers around them quietly, all the while keeping his eyes on the group of men that had unknowingly sparked his anger. Once he had both bearings in his hand securely, he moved his hand back around and rose slowly.
One of the men smiled at the other and pointed at him with a laugh. Another of them joined in the laugh and the third seemed to lift his hands defensively. The laughing grew and one of them snatched the locket mouthing some sort of sick joke to its previous holder, who laughed at the punch line. Moving so fast that the men might not have seen it if they knew he was there, Nightcide threw one of the heavy ball bearings at the street light, shattering the bulb in a shower of sparks. Four years of baseball every summer had to be good for something. The men jumped instinctively and their eyes darted to and fro like those of a wooden dummy. Hurried calls to one another to check here or there were all they could muster. The night that was so inviting now fell like a dark blanket over the frightened men. The one holding the locket crammed it back in his pocket and pulled a pistol from the waistband of his dirty jeans. This will be a little harder than I thought. Nightcide reached up and turned a switch on the side of his goggles - enabling the night vision lenses (his newest acquisition). The street below was bathed in an eerie green phosphorescence that turned the men into alien like beings with black slits for eyes.
Nightcide stepped up on the edge of the building and lowered himself on taut, practiced, knees. He took a deep breath, the same ritual before all of his workouts, and exploded upwards with a burst of strength. He only rose a few feet before his fall started, but he had hold of his cloak with both hands and the light material caught the rushing wind in a balloon, slowing his fall slightly. Hearing the sudden swooping, the men turned and reeled in every direction - eyes scanning the skies for their attacker. Fear is a powerful weapon. More powerful in some cases than any other weapon one can possess. The man with the gun fired in a direction that was not Nightcide's, but was close enough to make his heart skip a beat. After what seemed like an eternity but must have only been a few seconds he was passing the fire escape and so he reached forward and caught it firmly. Hanging there still so suddenly, and feeling all the more vulnerable, he fished out the other bearing and threw it in the opposite direction as hard as he could. He thought he remembered a galvanized trash can sitting there, and the loud denting CLANG assured him he was correct. The men immediately trained their eyes in that direction, the ape with the gun firing again. The man closest to him was standing in front of a trash bag that someone must have left by the door, and for the thought that entered Nightcide's mind he couldn't help but smile hanging there in the cool air of the night. He swung his feet forward then back, forward then back, until his body was swinging with sufficient force. Just before releasing the bar he noticed a low hanging sign on the other side of the man. That would make it all the better. Finally, he released the bar propelling himself toward his clueless target. The man was looking down the alley, and once the two large boots were planted in his back he didn't have time to react. The force of the kick nearly lifted him off the ground but he met it again when his head bounced off of the small sign with a sickening thud.
"JIMMY!" cried one of the others.
Jimmy’s gone now. Going to be gone for a while - checked out. Nightcide could see his blind assailants advancing toward him cautiously in the eerie green light, and he knelt down slowly in the same spot his boots had landed. At the same time he drew his cloak in closer and closer, until it covered his body completely. One of the men walked right by him, swinging his arms to and fro in the darkness, searching for his beloved Jimmy. The four of them form some kind of family. A sick dysfunctional family led by a deranged maniac. Another of them was advancing directly in Nightcide's path and so this one had the pleasure of being dealt with first. The third was a little more hesitant than the others and decided to keep his previous post. Perhaps he would be the lookout. They would need a lookout. He took another slow, deep breath as the man closed the gap between them. Nightcide rose silently, eyes affixed on his target like a hunter loading his weapon. The man reached out, perhaps searching for a wall to grasp or some stationary object to help steady his way but what he found was something he would regret. As quickly as he could possibly muster and without making a sound, Nightcide took hold of the wayward wrist and turned it over while pulling the man closer. The man shrieked in pain and surprise, but what he would feel next made him scream like a young girl. Like the young girl whose parents he probably helped kill. While grasping the man's overturned wrist and pulling him closer, Nightcide slammed a balled fist down onto the back of the man's elbow with all his might. There was a loud crunch, like the sound of someone tearing a piece of Styrofoam, and before the stunned target could react Nightcide took the same fist and slammed it into the temple of the man who then crumpled into a limp pile of flesh at his feet. The other two men were already moving this time, and moving quickly. Not quick enough. One of them swung, nearly connected, but Nightcide used a forearm to deflect the punch to a wall. He quickly buried a knee in the man's gut then an uppercut to his lowered head. The man reeled backward unconsciously and landed almost on top of Jimmy. That’s the one with the locket. Nightcide made a mental note but didn't have much time to think about it, the last man, the man with the gun, had his finger on the trigger.
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