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DATE: MARCH 22, 2013 TIME: 21: 43: 36
Moonlight shimmered on the glazed rooftop, droplets of the fading storm fell occasionally against the cement floors, forming small puddles in which two figures reflected. One, hidden in the dark irradiating mystery, stared down the city in silence, the other, fidgeted with the device at hand to cooperate with the nervousness. "Dude, I'm filming already so, like, start talking."
The man turned around as the camera zoomed into his shadowed face, one also covered by a dark mask, his identity a secret. "Olympia, a city filled with security, yet consumed by crime on every street. The cops have turned their backs on us, deciding to pay attention to the Governor rather than those who they swore to protect. If that's how they're gonna play, we might join the game by taking justice into our own hands."
His leather-covered fist clenched before his angered face, expressing to whoever landed watching the video currently being filmed the shared resentment on the police.
"Tell them, Dart─ um, partner."
"It's Dart Vader, okay? It's not so hard, dude. Y'know, shooting darts is my specialty. I'm the father of darts. Dart Vader. Pretty cool, huh?" The thick silence gave the opposite response, turning the moment awkward. Dart Vader turned the camera around, focusing it on his masked face, another identity kept secret. "It came to our ears a woman went to the pigs for help, her husband was hitting her and their boy. Wanna know what they did? Nothing. Not even a tiny bit of sympathy for the kid. This fucker's name us Dennis O'Sullivan and he'll pay for what he's been doin'."
The camera was abruptly turned around once again, showing the masked man who had leader attitude. He now carried a Collapsible Bo Staff, one he seemed determined to take most use of.
"Time to go, we don't want to wake everyone up. Follow me," and Dart did, trailed behind his partner as both sped to the door leading to the stairs. Both rushed down each step, landing with the tip of their sneakers to avoid loud noises. The footage was a blur of movement, and somehow their excitement was still clear, the need to be freed from law repression. "We're here, apartment 96."
There was a short moment when none moved nor spoke, letting the realization of their actions to be done sink in. Then, the new vigilante raised his leg and kicked the doorknob with fury, swinging the door open. Dart wasted no time in walking in and filming every single detail he could, exposing the abuser's lifestyle that perfectly matched the fucked-up person stereotype.
"Who the hell are you?" A deep voice yelled from behind them, one that gave you chills down your spine. As they turned around, along with the camera, a man sitting on his sofa could be seen. In a quick shuffle, he had gotten to his feet and grabbed a near bottle of bear, ready to swing it at the intruders. "The fuck are you doing in my house?"
Without a tone of fear in his voice, the masked man with a bo staff in hands replied, "I'm the Scourge. And we're here to protect your wife and son. From the asshole you are. Now tell me where they are and we won't hurt you," the Scourge stepped up to the larger man, not even flinching as his muscles contracted in annoyance, "much."
"Ha! You think this is some kind of dress-up party, kid? You don't fuck around with the macho," he growled after presenting himself, the camera shook, giving away the fear that conquered Dart, but not Scourge. "You're dead, kid."
The vigilante wasted no time and swung his bo staff into the man's face, almost toppling the beast down. The next target was lower, behind his knees to debilitate the posture, bringing him down with two easy hits. As he attempted to sit up, blood dripping into his shirt and mouth area, Scourge made a perfect hit into the man's neck, paralyzing him long enough to bury his stick into the hairy chest, using it to get on top of him, a shitty demonstration of pole vaulting.
Pulling his weapon away from the chest area, and turning it sideways, Dennis O'Sullivan found himself getting choked by a bloodthirsty vigilante and not being able to fight back in order to stop him. "This is what you get for laying a hand on that kid," he used both knees to keep the stick in place as he gave his fists another function, continuously punching the man's face. He did not stop until the skin on the criminal's arms had gone pale and his face had been destroyed and covered with blood.
"Dad?"
Dart, still behind the camera, afraid to come near any of the men, spun around and gasped. "Za- dude, we need to go. There's a kid here. Let's go!" He sprinted towards his friend, pulling him away from the deceased body. "We need to leave before anyone calls the cops."
The Scourge rubbed away a spot of blood, not his own, from his chin before nodding. The camera was dropped from hands, still held by the string attached to it, swinging left and right, bumping against the cameraman's leg as they skipped steps, dodged people and opened various doors, all while curses constantly escaped their mouths.
With one last push on a door, they found themselves on a humid night, running through the streets they had promised to protect. They did not stop until the plaza they left their car parked at became visible, their guards were down and masks off, running out of breath and their legs aching, burning. They ran for ten blocks not slowing down, if not, going faster every second.
Dart grabbed the camera again, pointing it at his friend's back, "holy shit, man. You killed that guy-" his panicking was interrupted by a powerful thud, similar to a car's backfiring. "Woah, is that the cops? I didn't think we'd get chased after the first time!"
"Shut up for one second! There's no sirens, it's not the cops, but that only worries me more," the man looked at his partner behind the camera, made a quick sweep with his eyes, and when he turned back, his mask was already on, his bo staff readied like before. "Come on out of the shadows, don't be afraid."
On cue, three men wearing suits and pointing their guns at them walked into the light. "We aren't the ones who should be afraid. It's you. Especially since you killed one of our precious men, so let's make it even, shall we?" There was another shot, louder this time. And then, the camera slowly fell to the ground, still filming from a weird angle the confrontation.
"No!" For the first time, emotion was shown in his voice. The bo staff fell from his grip, clinking against the ground, "he didn't do it. I did it! It was me! You should've shot me!"
The man standing in the middle chuckled, lowering his gun, the other two followed. "Now, why would I kill my next toy? After all, you did bring down one of the strongest we have," there was a long pause, the Scourge stood his place, glancing back at the camera a few times. "I will offer you a deal you can't deny, literally. Come without making a scene and we'll treat you nicely."
He has no word in the deal and is taken by force away from his partner, a man who wasn't ready to face the danger of the streets, someone too innocent to be dragged into this vigilante idea. A car is heard speeding down the road, no one's at the park anymore, pure dark and silence.
