World on Fire
New York City, Manhattan, December 15th, 2010; 11:27PM
The night was brisk as the holidays closed in but, not everyone was in the cheerful spirit, instead they were likely at the top of the naughty list this year; by the docks, four men held side-arms up at the backs of women's heads as they pushed and shoved them along a muddy path. Each of them carried themselves well enough and wore ski-masks the entire time when they finally came across the opening, it was clearing by the docks where a large shipping container was open and ready for them to transport, "Now, if you don't scream…" one of the men wearing ski-masks lowered his gun and held out a tin-container barely big enough for the three of them, "I'll let you guys have the bucket."
The girls were clearly delirious from either being injured or drugged as they stumbled in party-dresses and screamed as one of the men tried escorting her into the dark, cold container where she would likely never see light again, unless it was in some foreign country as someone's wife or slave. The man scoffed as he back handed her with the end of his gun, tossing the bucket behind him, "Your loss…" he punctuated his sentence by kicking her onto her hands and knees inside the container, the example took as the other girls were suddenly more compliant.
She looked up with running mascara and lipstick watching as the men were leading her friends in at gun-point after her but, something was moving behind the men that nobody but her had seen yet; a dark figure that leapt down from one of the shipping containers as they began to close it, causing them to panic even more than they already were.
"Shut up!" he pointed the gun at them one more time, scoffing and lowering it before shutting the door in front of them, leaving them in darkness as they listened for movement outside, weeping a bit and trying to console each other. They heard something drop from above their container, silently bludgeoning one of the men as the audible cracks and thuds caught the girl's interest..
She approached the metal door and placed a hand against it, peeping an eye out into the night where she could see lights in the distance from the club they were partying at when they were drugged; she also saw a row of shipping containers, where the figure had vanished into, jumping from the side of one and flipping onto another out of sight.
"Hey!" One of the other two men shouted and fired their guns off, causing the girls to cover their ears but, the one watching was too compelled to stop looking even as she flinched with every shot that was fired. One of them took his time locking up the cargo while his partner covered him. This time the figure wasn't as silent as they heard him sprinting through the dirt likely avoiding gun shots; he jumped onto one of the containers she could see, scaling it quickly and with ease as he leaped onto another and out of sight in mere seconds. She couldn't be totally sure as it was all happening so fast and she was already not in her right mind to begin with.
The two men left to guard the trafficking of these women moved with their firearms up into the rows of massive shipment containers where shadows completely encompassed the street lights nearby, even as shots were fired they only barely cast single shadows for an instant, still though it was too far away to deter her senses; hearing the following groans and thuds that came from a familiar voice that offered them a bucket, she heard a single slash of something metal before it all went dead silent.
From the shadows, a man in a hood and a mask over his nose and mouth approached from the darkness of the shipping containers; walking straight over towards them quickly as the observer backed away on her hands and knees, she heard an odd metallic nose before the padlock was suddenly snapped and the doors were opened wide.
"Go back to the club, call nine-one-one, now," He announced with a modified voice and without room to argue as they slowly started getting up, unsure of what was happening and still in shock, the figure quickly punched the metal of the containers door putting a large fist-sized dent into it as he shouted, "I said, now!" Suddenly putting the fear of god into them, they rushed out of the area as quickly as possible, stumbling in their broken heels and still inebriated from the drugs and drinking.
He watched them as they left to ensure they at least made it back to the club parking lot before turning his attention back down at the last survivor, the first man he'd beaten when he got here, was still breathing; he removed his mask showing off a mop of raven black hair and eyes to match, staring down at the man who wouldn't recover for weeks if he had the chance at all. He groaned as Kevin looked around for a moment, pulling a glock from his belt and pointing it down at the man with his finger on the trigger, "Bang."
The gun shot range through the empty docks, with no one around to hear it but him, he was left with the question of if it ever happened at all.
…