Character Introduction- Orion

29 6 3
                                    

2 out of 5

---------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes I think, what would I be like if things turned out differently.

Loud sounds, screams, yells, clangs, echoed from an empty street. No person occupied them, except for a group of men, all of different size and stature. A majority laid on the rough surface, unconscious or just rolling around in their own pain from the many injuries they had. Across from each other stood two groups, one more smaller, with many of the unconscious men by their feet. While the other stood tall, almost taking over the other side in sheer numbers, in the middle stood a boy. He stood, spine bent slightly, hands in his pockets as he stared down the other men across from him. He neither quivered nor cowered, no he just licked his dry lips that formed the smallest of grins as his foot tapped against the ground in a patterned rhythm. The men surrounding him all looked older, or bigger, but something just made him the more terrifying. Almost predatory.

When was it the last time I ever did anything, innocent. That I didn't need to fight just to have a day to myself. I can barely remember

The two groups stared each other down, the smaller one not daring to make a move. Until one just couldn't sit still any longer, perhaps out of fear, he let out a long, loud cry and charged. He held a metal pipe in his hands as he went for the boy in the middle, a large, burly man quickly readying himself to defend. Before he could, he got stopped, the boy raised his hand as to signal him to not move any further. He side glanced with narrowed eyes to him with unshaking eyes that seemed to gleam. And in response the man obeyed, lowering his offense. The boy on the other hand, slowly and calmly walked to the man charging at him like a bull. The smaller group became confused as to why he would make such an idiotic move, while the larger just watched quietly. With a swing forward, the pipe went down towards his head. However, with a quick step of his leg and force of his body, the boy sidestepped and dodged the hit. The pipe made harsh contact with the ground, slightly surprising the man. He moved to swing again, but the boy simply dodged again twisting his body around. This time he went, kicking his foot forward at the man's ankle, hard enough that pain reverated through the man. He yelled, making his grip loosen on the pipe, and the boy took the opening. He took the man's wrist in a tight grip, twisting it until he heard a crack of bone. He winded his fist back, and brought it forth with such strength into the man's gut that he coughed and spat, and then crumbled to the ground head first. The boy merely whistled, shaking his fist, before looking back at the smaller group. A majority looked with agape jaws or wide eyes, and then cowered catching his unblinking gaze.

Because this was the first time they saw him make a move.

A monster or demon they called me, well maybe that's what I am. Or rather I had no choice but become one

After fixing his jacket, he stuffed his hands back in his pockets and turned back to the smaller group quivering in their shoes.

"Normally I would actually finish what I started," He bellowed gesturing to the unconscious man by his feet, "But, you lucked out, I got something more important to do. So," Something in his expression shifted, like a switch flipped. His eyes became darker as his eyes narrowed like a beast ready to pounce. "So ya better get lost and not bother my other men again, or I might have to get hands dirty. GET IT?" He yelled out so loudly that the men ran, like dogs with their tails between their legs. He huffed, feeling slightly disappointed none of them had the courage to fight back. Nonetheless, he scratched the back of his head and retreated back to his group.

"We'll take care of the mess." One of the men said pointing to the unconscious bodies that littered the streets. The boy thanked them quietly, before walking up north. The loud rush of cars whizzed by his ear as he trotted on the sidewalk. He turned, and the voices of many people chatting or laughing filled his ears. He grunted at the sudden loudness, but continued his way. He fished out of his pocket a white box, carefully taking out a white cigarette in between his lips, and then taking out the lighter. Being cautious of the people surrounding him, he lit the end, and then took a long drag. He felt the satisfying burn in his lungs, and slowly continued forward.

They tell me all kinds of things, but I don't give a rat's ass about them. I learned, the hard way that you can't always be nice. If I did I would've died then, in a world like this...

Reaching a bridge, the boy took a moment to think to himself, deciding a good way to go. He grunted jumping down a flight of stairs, and then he ran down a couple of blocks before reaching in front of a large building. A loud bell emitted from the top, and a bunch of children ran out of the door, going to yellow buses parked at the front, or to their parents. The boy stepped out his half burned cigarette, and slowly passed the gate. His eyes scanned the crowd of little kids, until he spotted a particular bright purple colored backpack.

I pulled myself out of the depths of hell with my bare hands. No matter what they call me, there's one person I won't let the devil's hands touch

He walked further, until he spotted a little girl in a dark blue dress, brown hair tied in a low ponytail standing idly by as she tried to look above people's heads. Her expression brightened as she caught him, making his way over to her, and she ran over excitedly to meet him.

"You're here!"

"Of course, I wouldn't want to miss out on hearing about your first day." He cooed, ruffling her hair earning him a squeaky giggle. He took her small hand, and they both walked out onto the sidewalk.

"You're gonna love this story from Language Arts!" The girl chirped showcasing a bright grin. A small smile twitched at his lips, except this time not as wicked.

"Really? Then lay it on me squirt." He encouraged and listened to her drabble on about her day, as they walked home together, feeling himself relax from events prior.

I grew up tough, but that's not stopping me from doing what I want. From surviving. Because I have more than just myself to take care of. So, I get my hands dirty. I just have to hope at the end of the day I don't feel that swallowing me whole 

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Jan 15, 2018 ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

Original WorkWhere stories live. Discover now