The darkness enveloped me like a shroud as I slipped into the alley,
under the current of mainstream society, into the place where people
refused to look. It is here that the unspeakable happens, where
‘they’ suffer horribly at the hands of others.
A little girl was raped on her way home from a friends house not too
long ago. An old man was shot in the head while walking his dog, his
wallet and money still in his possession when the police found him. A
woman was beaten to death by three teenagers when she asked them to
turn their music down at two-thirty in the morning.
But that is what happens to ‘them’, or at least
that’s what most people think. They distance themselves from the
horrors that occur every day because it’s not someone they
know… it happened to the mysterious ‘them’.
Well, apparently I’m one of ‘them’, or my wife was.
Her body was found, raped, sodomized, her throat slashed nearly to the
point of severing her head. The police never found the man who did it,
and they never will, unless they can analyze the digestive waste of
several hundred pigs from an outlying farm. And oh, yeah, he was still
alive while the pigs were eating him. I don’t know how long that
lasted, and I don’t care. I saw it in his eyes at the very least
for several minutes, and that was enough for me. Or so I thought.
Everything I had is gone. I sold my entire life and walked away from
whatever I couldn’t sell. Nobody knows my name down here, and
that’s fine, too. What they know is who, and what I am, and they
fear me. As they should.
There are powers that exist in the world, an energy that we all pass
through like the air we breathe. In my darkest hour I found the path to
manipulating that energy. Some might call this magic, or force of will.
Whatever, I don’t care. What matters to me is my ability to do
what I do, to be what I have become.
I move through the currents of darkness that flow through the city,
passing through the lightless alleys, around buildings and dumpsters,
nearly vaporous, darkness within darkness. When I pass by groups of
gangbangers city on a porch I can feel the fear that flashes through
each of them, taste the chill they feel at my presence.
A woman is walking towards the subway. The energy around her buzzes
with the adrenaline pounding through her veins. She knows that less
that one hundred feet behind her two men are pursuing her. Will they
rape her? Beat her? Take her money and kill her? I can almost see the
images flashing through her mind, though I don’t need to.
I’ve seen them enough to know they are there.
The heat from my hand has warmed the blade’s hilt comfortably. No light glistens or gleams from its blackened edge.
The men advance on the woman as she crosses an intersection. The subway
is only two more blocks, she thinks she can make it, but they have
moved closer than she realized. She starts to run, but only gets three
steps before the first of the two men grabs her and throws her into a
They start talking to the woman, but I couldn’t care less what
they are saying. One of them looks up as the darkness deepens at the
back of the alley. He starts to say something but I flash by him like a
shadow. The cut in his neck was so fine he didn’t even realize it
was there until his voice failed him. That’s when the blood
The woman starts to scream, but the remaining mugger’s hand
covers her mouth. I wrap her in bands of power, willing her to sleep.
She doesn’t need to see this.
The mugger pulls a gun from his pocket, but that doesn’t concern
me either. I flash by again, and the gun and three of his fingers fall
to the ground in the alley. Another pass and his life is over.
The darkness around me envelops the two men. I lift them to the side
wall of the alley, weaving the bands of energy through the brickwork
and around their wrists, pulling their hands inside of the stone. Let
the police sort that out.
It’s a vicious circle. The two men are now ‘them’ to
most of the world, the ones the terrible things happen to. Each person
with the consequences of their own actions. So, yes, they are ‘them’ now, too. But the woman won’t be.
by D. Heikes