Abuse of Chikara (book 1) Page 22
This blond-haired, white chick did not know what had hit her. She was on the ground out of it and prime meat for this ex-con to pound away on. The punk had made things even easier by dragging her into the park bathroom with four stalls. There would be no prying eyes to contradict his version of events. The sleeping woman would most likely go along with whatever he said, since she would be happy the punk had been killed. She would be very happy that she had not woken up with him inserted inside her. He crept up and tapped the man on the shoulder. As soon as the cracker turned around he hit him on the chin. He followed this blow up with four other strikes to pressure points on the man’s body. After that it was a simple matter to disarm him and pin him face down on the floor. The fool started cursing and running his mouth like they all did. He never understood what people thought getting loud was actually going to accomplish in a fight or argument. In any case, no one was around this area at this late hour. No point in taking chances so he simply broke one of the man’s fingers easily. He would not be using that index finger anytime soon. Psycho waited a few minutes until the punk calmed down. Examining the thug’s gun, he finds it to be a .38 revolver. He removes all the bullets, except one. “Okay, white boy, we’re going to play a little game. This game is called Russian roulette. You don't get to refuse to participate. If I die, you’re to free to go provided your dumb white ass can get away. If you lose then, well that's self-explanatory even for white trash like you.”
He picked up the thug and propped him against the wall. The man did not try to run away, but stared in shock as Psycho raised the gun to his own head and pulled the trigger. When he put the gun to the man’s head, he started to whimper like a small dog or puppy. Funny how these hard-core thugs were punks when they dealt with someone who could go toe-to-toe with them. He put the gun to the thug’s head and smiled as he pulled the trigger and heard the gun go click. There was no fear in him as he felt his fate was to live on. Perhaps the God of this world still had plans for him. He was not much of a religious man, but he remembered reading that Satan was God of this world. Since he was fucking evil, then he would probably live to a ripe of age no matter what. Finally they got down to the last two shots. He went first and even put the gun in his mouth before pulling the trigger. The gun simply clicked.
“Oh damn dude, guess that means this last shot is for you then.”
The thug did get some courage finally. He tried to get up and run away, but the attempt did not last long as Psycho gave him a quick flurry of punches that a professional boxer would be proud of. The fool ended up right back slumped against the wall. He moved away a bit and pulled the trigger, hitting the man dead in the head. He checked to make sure he was dead and called it in. The story would be that he had noticed this felon who resembled someone a warrant was out on and went to question him when he saw him assaulting a white lady. Of course, he followed the man into to the bathroom were the punk pulled a gun. They fought for it and the man got killed. The female would be more than happy to agree with his version of events, considering the fact that she had been attacked by the white trash bum. That and the fact that he was a felon, repeat offender, and had a warrant out on him would make this easy. To be honest, he had really performed a public service for the people.
How sweet life was for him right now. He got to kick peoples asses, had plenty of stolen drug money and property, and had his own evil spirit that gave him information concerning future events. Of course, Dirty Red only gave him information about crime committed in the future by white people. He did not know if Red was limited to only this particular topic or only just cared about this particular thing. He pretty much figure Red had the ability to tell about other stuff, but was only motivated about what interested him. They would have to come to some agreement about this; he really wanted the winning lottery numbers. He would not be greedy and try to win all the time, but at least once. Hell, next week was worth $100 million! No idea what that would be after taxes, but whatever he got would be all right with him. Red would have to do things his way or not at all. Obviously his former partner had chosen him to reveals himself to for some reason. There had to be more to it than just his low level of moral character. Why did he not show himself to Bill or someone else? Surly he could not be the only morally bankrupt person Dirty Red had come in contact with since his death. He'd bring the matter up with Dirty Red tomorrow.
Right now he was enjoying the ride just cruising around in his car with the windows down. He did not even have a particular destination in mind. Sometimes he just liked to drive around the city. Finding his was back was no problem as he had an excellent sense of direction, and knew how to get back home no matter where he went. One of these days he would get rich and purchase a large boat, and go someplace remote away from society. He'd get some hot chick and live free of the bullshit that was society. There would only be his wife and kids in some large type of complex or something. Maybe he would buy a small island. That would be when he was older and tired of his current lifestyle.
Dirty Red was sitting next to him in the passenger seat telling him stories just like they did back in the day when they were still alive. He had not heard this one before or at least did not remember it. Dirty Red was on patrol downtown. There was a blind man going through an alley. Red knew the street and shops like no one else. He made it a point to visit different shops and strike up friendships with store workers and managers. It made people feel safe, and gave him a chance to find out where all the cameras were. There were no cameras in this particular alley. In any case, he made sure there were no witnesses. The cool thing about this alley is that the view from either end was obscured from both ends. There was a chance he might be seen, but he was working undercover and did not have a uniform on; and he was wearing a ski mask to cover his face. He walked up in front of the blind white man and stood there. The man quickly bumped into him and tried to go around the obstacle. Red pushed him down, turned him around and went through his pockets. The punk tried to scream as he shoved a cloth over his mouth and then pocketed the money. He ran out the other end of the alley so the blind man could hear him running away. He went around the other end and came back, assisted the man telling him he was a police officer. The blind man told him the entire story as Dirty Red drove him to the police station to fill out a police report. This was not the first time Dirty Red had abused a blind or elderly white person. This was something he did infrequently, but it had been done a number of times. Dirty Red’s spirit was sitting next to him, laughing while recalling how he had pretended to show such concern for the blind, old fool at the police station. Of course, they would never find the made up person they were looking for. He would simply blame it on whatever thug got killed down the road. Maybe even have a dude in prison say the guy confessed to the crime. That old, blind white dude had a wad of cash. Why the fool was carrying $1,000 around was beyond him. The prostitutes had sure appreciated the cash. Robbing blind old bastards was almost as much fun as stealing from Girl Scouts.
That ride was fun, but it was good to be home now. Hanging out with an evil spirit was pretty cool actually. It was nothing like the exorcist, or poltergeist movies. Would have been cool to see Dirty Red smashing through doors like that evil spirit in the first two Evil Dead films. No, Dirty Red just appeared and disappeared and gave him insider’s information mostly. Red had agreed to give him the winning lottery numbers as long as he kept screwing over white people. Red told him that Bill’s days were numbered and that he would have to look for a new gig. Sorry about Bill, but the show must go on. He had no reason to doubt this spirit whether it was really Red or not. Red told him that Bill would either be put in prison for years or get killed by Quinton. All possible futures for the guy were pretty grim. He started to drift off to sleep and noticed the spirit of Dirty Red entering his body and disappearing. Guess his body was Reds home or house. He never did understand the difference between the two or were they the same thing. In any case, Red seemed to abide in his body somehow. It seemed like Red
usually entered his body when he went to sleep. Did that mean spirits needed to regenerate as well? Or maybe Red saw no point in being active when he was not awake to converse with. Then again, maybe he was just crazier than usual and was imagining Red’s spirit. That would not explain how he knew of the exact moments people were going to commit crimes, though. He finally drifted off to sleep and again dreamed that he was someplace with lots of trees. He was somewhat aware that he was dreaming. Of course, he must be dreaming again, but this dream seemed so vivid. All his dreams were different.
Lately since the spirit was inhabiting his body, his dreams were more realistic in some manner that he couldn't explain. He was in some wooden area like a forest or something. There were no marking or signs that he recognized. He wandered around for a bit until he came in contact with a young, white woman holding a small child. The woman was named Barbara, and she was in her mid-20s. Seemed she had joined some type of cult or something. They had all given up their lives to come live in this forest area and live off the land. The leader was a rich Chinese man in his late 50s, who had become some kind of spiritual leader. He had gone around in different nation’s building these large underground caverns. These caverns had separate living areas hollowed out. They had everything they needed to survive with a minimal amount of technology. This man spurned anything, but the most basic technology. No TV, Internet, cell phones or video games. The only real exceptions was medical technology to deal with sickness. To be sure he did not hate technology or try to force his followers to adhere to spurning technology.
His teaching were that man should seek knowledge, but to benefit human lives not rule it. Around his late 40s he had become obsessed with technology to the point he felt it was taking over his life. He had long considered how people became obsessed with technological gadgets. He was in China one day watching one teenager assault another teenager over an expensive cell phone. This had made him see that we had started to worship technology, and someone needed to create some balance. The idea of simple people living off the land with as little technology as possible was born. He had written up a list of rules concerning behavior of people living on his land. Manners and respect were mandatory. Violence and any type of abuse was not tolerated. Racism was not something he believed in, and he did not tolerate it. These rules and many others had become a sort of Bible, which he had written and actually had printed up into a book named the way. This guy did visit all his little encampments around the world. He had started them everywhere, except in a few Muslim nations, as one of his rules was equality between men and women.
In the dream he could hear Dirty Red even though he could not see him. Red told him the man actually had some powerful extra sensory abilities that he did not understand. His abilities were latent, but could be very powerful if ever triggered. Funny how these people were very open, very friendly, even with outsiders. They were eager to encourage people into taking up their way of thinking. He had to admit that everyone here seemed happy. There was no evidence of abuse or child molestation like in some cults. Their leader was not saying only he could sleep with all the women or advocating older men sleeping with pre-teen girls. Seems like this guy was the real deal. This type of set up was not to his liking to be honest. He loved violence and carnage, and lived for the shit actually. These guys did not believe in drugs, alcohol or violence. They drank some type of healthy drink made up of fruits and vegetables they grew themselves, which they sweetened a little bit with honey. He would have left, but Dirty Red’s voice was constantly in his head begging him to stay for a few days. Some small event would be happening here soon that he wanted to wait for.
Dirty Red said the Chinese leader sensed the darkness in Psycho Boy and thought he could help turn him around, maybe counsel him or something. It would be a waste of time, of course, but he had no problem with letting the man try. This guy had him meditating with him and talking about his feelings and crap. The group actually had anger management classes that were voluntary. Most people in the group did participate, however. This Asian man was very persuasive. If he were a normal guy, he would have been persuaded to join and take up their lifestyle. He had done anger management BS back when he was a teenager. He always went along with the garbage and laughed afterwards. It was not all bad, though. He had hung out with some of the Mexican kids in the classes after school and smoked weed. Come to think about it, he had banged some hot Mexican chicks that was taking that crap also.
He would go along with this junk for a few days longer to keep Dirty Red happy. Red did not appear to him like he usually did. He seemed to think this man would somehow sense his presence if he did. He only heard Reds voice and that was when the Asian man was not around. It was an interesting little fact that he would file away mentally. It could be useful if they ever had a major disagreement. He felt really sick to the point that his stomach started cramping. Bending over to his knees, he starts to vomit. Now there is searing pain shooting through every part of his body. He had never felt pain like this before. He had been sick from too much drugs and or alcohol before, but this took the cake. It felt like his entire body was reshaping itself in favor of a new form. In fact, that’s exactly what was happening. His hands now had long claws coming out of them and were covered by black, long fur. At this point he pretty much went into a semi- state of awareness. It was like watching his own body from a distance in the third person. He is not easily rattled, so he watched himself in this third person perspective. It’s almost like his awareness was floating over his own body. He was now a giant wolf looking creature. They used to call them werewolves in the horror films. Psycho knew a little about these things. They were powerful beings that could only be killed by silver bullets or so the story goes. He watched his now 7-foot body sniff the air and start to salivate. Soon the giant wolf was running towards a group of young white kids. This werewolf was more in the shape of the ones from that movie; the howling rather than the older looking versions that were more human looking. His wolf self did not seem to care what these were kids. Soon he was biting off heads, arms, legs and whatever he could get his mouth on.
Many of the parents and other children came to see what all the commotion was about. Big mistake on their part. His wolf incarnation effortlessly cleaved entire bodies in half with his long 14-inch claws. These claws protruded from the front of each finger, but were metal looking rather than bone. They seemed to cut just as well though. His werewolf form cut countless people down in an orgy of death. No one was spared contact from his claws, slicing and dicing various body parts. There was nothing left, but large piles of dismembered body parts and bloodstained cave walls. His wolf form stopped to consume every bit of human flesh. In all, he must have just killed over 30 people. Prowling the caves he finds other sleeping areas and kills at least another 30 people. These undergrounds caverns are pretty big and capable of housing well over 300 people. Psycho is now counting the number of kills as his wolf form rampages around the underground area. He counts at least 150 kills.
This place was large and many of the people did not even get to scream before they died. There was a great deal of confusion about what to do and who was in charge. Soon an older white male named Dave took charge. Dave was a former cop and was used to dangerous situations. He did not believe the stories of a werewolf for a second or the idea that so many had been killed. Most likely a wolf had gotten in some- how and had bitten a person or two. Once they capture it, they would check the other areas of the cavern. Fortunately they had tranquilizer guns for just this type of emergency. Dave led a posse of 20 men of various ages, shapes and sizes with him. Most were armed with tranquilizer guns as well and some with nets. After some searching they found a giant, hulking wolf with claws a foot long or more. These claws were metallic rather than bone. Some of the men with him urinated in their pants and at least three of them ran. Dave could see why the sight of this thing covered in blood, and bits of human flesh stuck to its fur, would frighten lesser men. He let loose with his tranquilizer g
un as did the remaining men. No effect at all on the beast. The darts did not seem to even pierce the creature’s flesh from what he could tell. He did what every intelligent leader did in this situation and ordered a retreat. Many of the men with him did not even get the chance to run or retreat. He could not believe the speed and gracefulness of this creature. It was a wild beast, but it was not mindless or had some type of highly developed hunting instinct at least. When it caught a man, it cut off a leg or stabbed the man through the belly. The wounds were always something that would stop the person from running away as it went for the others. Obviously, it wanted to catch as many people as possible. It could always go back and eat the others later. A man of 53 thanked god he had spent the last three years here working out extensively. Their Asian leader had stressed physical health as well as spiritual health. Regular visits to the a doctor, diet and plenty of exercise was a big part of their life here. He was in much better shape than he had been in his 40s. Unfortunately, some of the men here had not taken up the exercise programs with the gusto he had. This creature was most likely easily able to out run any human, but it could not catch everyone at the same time. The slower, overweight men were caught first. Every time it maimed someone, it had to slow down to stop for a few moments. Their leader was not someone who believed in weapons, but he was not out to lunch mentally either. Weapons were kept in a secured locker in case of extreme emergency. This had to merit the definition of extreme emergency. By the time he made it to the emergency area where the guns were kept, only three men were left with him. They were grabbing machine guns, shotguns and handguns when another small group of 10 burst into the room with the same idea.