A City of Crime

Friday March 14th 2014. It is a relatively busy night in the streets of Brisbane, Australia. A city that boasts tall, beautiful buildings and skyscrapers that light up the city at night. The streets of Brisbane come to life with restaurants, nightclubs, hangout spots and various shops attracting people of all ages, race, color and ethnicity to the city. Though it's never always like this, as this is what you call a quiet night. For the last two years, the crime activity in Brisbane had skyrocketed to the point where local, state and even federal authorities have been up to their eye sockets trying to restore peace to the city. All in vain though, as more criminals appear out of nowhere as if they magically appeared out of nowhere. There are rumors of some benefactor working behind the scenes, but the idea of someone literally arming every Tom, Dick and Harry with all the means to create chaos in a city is a far stretch. But never rule anything out, you never know what's possible.

Within the city is a place called the Valley. It's what you'd refer to as Brisbane's version of the Bronx in New York City. Filled with a mix of different buildings ranging from new and bright to old and rundown, the Valley is basically a little column A and a little column B. The old rundown shopping mall and the train station have become filthy nest areas for low life criminals looking to prey on any unsuspecting victims in a bid to rob or murder civilians either for survival or pleasure. The criminal mind is fascinating in various ways, for those of course who study every aspect of said subject.

In the deep tunnels of the train station in the Valley is extremely quiet. It's 11:30pm, the lanes in the tunnel are quiet, it's pitch dark with a few working lights, the floors and pillars look like they haven't been clean in weeks, and the trains that pass by have been infected with graffiti art over the years. Damn shame too, as these trains are state-of-the-art as well. They look sleek like a bullet and an commercial airplane, pure coats of white paint with silver outlines and continuous connected windows that look so much better than those old trains. But all that's ruined by all the graffiti art now.

In the station, a family consisting of a father, his wife and their 10 year old son are waiting for the 11:45pm train. It has been a late night for them, having attended a friend's birthday party that went way longer than what should've been. The father looks like he's agitated, the mother looks worried, and the son looks in good spirits. All in all a good looking family by all standards. But unbeknownst to the family, lurking in the shadows are a pair of two low life criminals dressed in hoodies and track pants with expensive looking Nike shoes slowly advance towards the unexpected long family. The son notices the criminals sneaking in shadows.

The son screams...

The parents turned around, they take their son by the hand and start running.

They managed to make it outside of the train station hoping to find anyone to help, but not a soul in sight...

BANG!

BANG!

The son realizes that his parents collapsed to the ground with blood seeping out of them onto the cold asphalt. The son then finds himself being pushed into a cluster of garbage bins. He takes a moment to collect himself and proceeds to slowly get up onto his knees. Holding his head with one hand, he looks forward trying to see if his parents are okay, only to see that the criminals stealing his parents money and valuables.

BANG! BANG!

The criminals fire shots again at the boy's parents, both poor souls now lying motionless. Instead of running away frantically like what your typical criminal would do, the two lowlifes casually walk away into an nearby alley, proudly proclaiming the spoils of their criminal activity that they had just proudly performed.

The boy frantically runs to his parents, wanting to see if they were okay after what had transpired.

They've gone cold, emitting no sign of life.

Having borne witness to the horrifying sight in front of him, the boy screams and cries with all his might.

A poor boy had lost his parents. No child should have to go through that.

On the top of a medium sized building next to what happened in the street, the boy looks up and sees a lone figure looking down, witnessing what had just taken place. The figure raises his right arm, and a cable shoots out from his hand into the direction his hand was facing. The figure flies off into the night.