Ryan Lee Watson "Hidden Ace"'s Story

BRRRRRIIIINNNNGGG!

The heavenly sound marked the end of another boring day at a typical public high school. Students eagerly got up and chatted their way out the door about the events of the Friday night that awaits them. Parties, sleepovers, drug dealings…

Okay, maybe the last one is not on most of teenager’s lists but it is on the particular guy still sitting dazed on his desk.

“Ry-Ryan.”, the small crackly voice snapped the daydreamer out of his wake. He glanced up towards the beholder of the voice, an equally small and crackly looking kid with matted red hair, bulging brown eyes, and fidgety disposition; like a squirrel that got a hold of too much energy drinks.

“Um, h-hi Mac.”, Ryan stood up and quickly looked around the classroom, no one was there. “What’s up?”

The squirrel started heaving and staring intently at something on the floor. He puffed out, “The crystals.” he looked up with a deranged look on his eyes, and said “Do you have the crystals?”

The desperation in this guy’s voice was sad to Ryan, but it wasn't as sad as his own situation. Known as the charismatic class clown of the school, he was the nice guy that made everybody’s day. Sure his grades were below average at best, but his random acts of kindness and his genuine seeming smiles made him a people favourite from day one. All the girls in the school at least once had a crush on him (though no relationships formed because of his confusing niceness to everybody but still labelled ‘cute’) and all the guys either look up to him or try to be him. Of course, no one ever succeeded on how he emulates such a cool, mysterious aura with an outgoing, funny personality. A feat that pales in comparison in light of how he could hold such a high status; in the same school that also knows of his low one.

“Ryan? You mean that nice kid dealing with those druggies? Impossible!” would exactly be the reactions of the teachers and students of the school if told about the dark side of the role model’s dealings. Their blissful unawareness is just part of a strategic plan though. The knowledge of his secret drug exchange was solely for the school’s outcast and crack heads. With their reputation already ruined, no one would ever believe them if they piped up about the real truth about the ‘good guy’. Besides they wouldn't want to if he had the sweetest and strongest drugs that could satiate their unending hunger for the high. This was all hard work for Ryan, our mastermind, because associating publicly with this group is a big no-no for his image and meetings had to be carefully conducted with all potential prying eyes, especially security cameras, off. However, the money is worth it, with a good day of trade paying off a month’s rent. A nice side job with a high price.

Ryan chuckled and carefully patted the sophomore’s shoulder while making slight move to the exit. “Haha, there there, easy big guy. Hit me up tomorrow and it’ll be ready for ya.” The squirrel quickly chirped in protest. “Tomorrow? TOMORROW?! WHAADDYA MEAN TOMORROW?!” the creepy rodent was getting more and more agitated by the moment, “I WANT IT NOW!!!” he roared and with that he hurled himself on Ryan. Not so fast…

In a split second and a sickening crack, the flying squirrel slumped to the floor. One brat. Exterminated.

The black haired boy quickly tossed the small body on his shoulder and went to the office. He dropped it off on one of the chairs where the secretary fussed over the scene.

“Ohmygosh Ryan! What happened?”

“Don’t worry Mrs. Reynolds. He just fainted, he should come around soon. Y’know Mac, he’s pretty prone this kind of things. But sorry I can’t stick around for long though, I have to pick up my little sister.”

“Oh yes yes, go on now.” the plump frumpy woman still was poring over the unconscious victim, “What a poor poor sickly boy.”

"What a poor poor fella indeed." Ryan smirked as he left out the door.

Two figures walked down the deserted streets of the slums. They were a rather peculiar pair, with the girl so tiny like a little white mouse and boy so tall and darkly-dressed like a big black cat. They stepped over littered waste while their shadows danced in front of the cracked pavements. They were strangely at ease at such a dangerous place. The place where all the evil and shame of the city became, this was their home.

“Ry-Ry,”the little blond girl holding onto her brother’s hand had a serious tone, “Why when I look for you at night you’re not in your bed?” Ryan almost choked in his own spit. “Um…” he looked at her questioning red eyes. Crap crap crap. What do I say? I rob rich people’s homes, deal drugs, and run around in that cat mask you made me! What fun, isn't it exciting? No, no, no, no….that won’t do. Gah...think think think!

Quickly sensing her brother’s discomfort she played up the situation. “Oh I get it. Your sneakin’ out aren’t ya?” Ryan gulped. Crap it’s over, she knows everything. Mila giggled in delight and squealed “You has a grrllfriend!” What. What. What. He stood stunned for a second contemplating the stupidity of the possibility. How could I even..?

He stopped thinking when he saw the girl started sniffling. “I thought you were always gonna be there because sometimes I get scared. I was scared sometimes ‘cuz I don’t know what happens to you. But in the morning your there so I thought it was a dream. But sometimes I thought the monsters gonna get you. Sometimes I’m scared they’re gonna take you away forever.”

Tears soon trickled down her pale face while her small frame shook against the cold wind. Her appearance was undoubtedly different from other kids her own age, or others in general. The unnatural whiteness of her skin, her red eyes, and light hair marked that she had a congenital disorder, albinism and her immensely short height, the cause of her premature birth. Looking at her reminded Ryan of her fragile and delicate state that needed much more protection than others.

It's because you have such a strong personality that sometimes I forget. Ryan walked over and hugged his little sister until the whimpering noises stopped and then carried her on his back towards the path home.

The sun was almost going down and with night fast approaching, the surroundings would be too precarious for the both of them. He soon hastened his steps when he suddenly came upon a rare scene in an alleyway. Though he could not see the tall figure's frontal side. The distinct creepy voice and mask belonged to none other than..the Nightengale?! What is he doing here? Though it was late, it was much too early for any good-doers to be roaming the area. Ryan knew that for sure.

He watched as the masked man helped up a weak-looking young woman, no doubt a damsel in distress. Che, I heard he was player. But I didn't know he picked up lasses from around these parts too. Ryan turned to leave with his sister's squirms signalling that she'll soon wake. "Curiosity killed the cat after all." and he especially didn't want to be killed any time soon.

Isaiah stopped in place as Captain exchanged his completely meaningless greeting, looking at the floor while he clamped his teeth together to shut himself up as the so-called "Hero" rode away.

"I ain't your son, bitch." He growled to the spot where he stopped at the light before continuing on his way home, stuck in all too sour mood, suddenly thinking about ways to exact revenge on the A-class hero.
"Maybe, if I do something about that motorcycle of his. Take the engine apart, strip it apart, sell the valuable bits, and leave the shitty body for him to discover. Better yet, why not sabotage it?" The boy felt excited just thinking about it.
"Get rid of the brakes...I'd need some allen keys, a torque wrench, maybe a flat-head...wait a second, fuck it. Just cut the line to the breaks and voila! Crash n' crush da neck."

Isaiah felt proud of himself for thinking about it, his fingers caressing the butterfly knife held securely in his pocket, his thoughts now turning up at the man's presence as yeah it was late but far too early for any of the masked freaks to be showing up any-time too soon. That's the direction towards the dock. It seemed likely that if he knew about the big thing happening at the docks then so did other so called "heroes" themselves.

Wait. What if they were calling in other self-proclaimed or naturally inclined villainous freaks into the picture? As much as Slugger hated the "heroes" the town's villains, a name that you'd really have to work especially in a shithole like Cormick City, were just downright unpredictable and as dangerous as the villains. The sick macabre killings of The Painter for whom it sickens the kid to think of that one time he stumbled across his "art", the ever-so-crazed silent yet deadly woman, Silver Cut, bringing gender diversity to serial killers, and worst of all Reaper. The man who distilled his crazy, put it in a bottle and made it to that colourful mess of a costume. Oh boy, did that man wear his crazy inside and out. Whoever the fuck he was, he had connections because no-one, absolutely no-one, can be that insane and have the gang, the protection and immunity, that he does.

While on the way home, the boy saw one of the popular senior kids from his school, walking home with either a junior or hopefully his sister. Isaiah looked at him as if to acknowledge his presence before keeping his eyes forward, his peripheral vision still focused on him until he passed.

As soon as he got into his apartment, up a couple stairs, and into his home, he checked up on her grandmother, busy typing away at a keyboard before looking at the door to find her grandson.

How was school? She signed at him. He smiled before signing back.

Alright. I have some math to finish up and I'm going out afterwards. To be frank, he really didn't need to sign, but he liked it. Having this secret language most people don't know and speaking in it made him excited. Better.

Go on. Do what you have to do.

Grandma always said that when she didn't want to talk anymore and continued typing away. She always kept typing and typing and she had stacks of pages of typed material. Scattered stories of fiction and non-fiction that she hated Isaiah to see.

The rest was fairly routine. Cook up some vegetables and fruits with a bit of ground beef before it spoils, eat it, do some homework, and check the second cell-phone for any missed calls from gang leaders and drug leaders. Nothing but a text.
"scout, distract, and report back."

That meant the deal was was still going on. Good. Isaiah thought what "distract" meant until he figured it out for himself. Keep them busy. It had to be some sort of terrible joke. He was a hit and runner guy, not a stand-up fighter or enforcer, but that didn't really matter.

It was almost time. Not for the midnight drug deal on the docks but for the get together with the gang again. They needed this to work out because last time, robbing the convenience store when the owner had a shotgun under the counter, nearly blowing off the head of one of the kids, does a lot to pull morale down. Isaiah walked out of his apartment in the night, his armoured hoodie on, cargo pants worn, black helmet on, and most of the weapons concealed, a needle and string on hand just in case, and a small bottle of vodka alongside an oily rag if it shall come to that...still relatively unknown to be Slugger until he walked in an alley nearby and took the dufflebag that was hidden behind the dumpster.

Inside were his yellow rollarblades and his iconic, almost signature bat and within two minutes, a blue bandana around his mouth, he became just that.

"Help! Help me!" One of many unanswered calls for help pierced the air as a young woman was being pinned by a strong monster of a man up against the wall. This scene was common.
"You'll like it. They all do." The sound of a zipper made it's way to her ears and she screamed even louder before having her voice silenced by the flat of his palm. It ended mostly the same way, every time.
He was obviously distracted, not to notice the rolling sound that came down the alley which was just a slant downhill, and a flash of yellow struck the man right in the head in a speed so quick, it took the girl moments before she can realize what just happened, looking over to the figure that stopped suddenly before slowly riding back to look at the body. The yellow rollerblades and the likewise yellow bat bent over the heads it has smacked.

"You're a fucking idiot, ya know that?" Slugger spoke, in the voice that was Slugger's, the 25 year old short black male.
"This is an alley in the middle of the goddamned night. Don't you see the news you son of a bitch or were you born stupid? Nothing good ever come from an alley. Ain't no parties or surprises. Just rape and murder. Now get your ass out of here before I live up to the expectations of the alley."

The girl was of course scared as Slugger swung around his bat while she talked and when she got the cue she bolted. He was always proud to take down a monster as it made for good swinging experience and it game him a chance to warm up his voice with empty but convincing threats. Poor girl. To be rescued from a monster only to be saved from a freak. Slugger glanced at the downed man, out cold, and his genitals exposed to the night air.
"Well, no wonder you're hiding in an alley expecting action." He said poignantly to the unconscious man before moving on to an area, not at the docks per se, but close enough to see the likewise 50 or so men gathered there along with no-one's favorite mad-man. He had no need to visit the docks, he knew the area when he inspected it the couple of days before.

While he waited, his child gang started to assemble on the spot that was chosen, on rollarblades as well and in dark clothing. They had their throw away weapons and blades to keep them safe.
When all seven of the people gathered, Slugger found it fit to start speaking, and did they listen for they looked up to the man.
"Here's what's gonna happen. We split up into four groups of two and I want everyone to scout ahead. You see the police or one of 'em freaks coming over, you contact me and tell me where they are and what intersection. Don't fucking attack them, touch them, breath on them, just follow them. If they notice you, skate your shit away."
Everyone nodded.
"Carlo, you're staying with me. Stay back and in the shadows. If I get into any trouble, I'll be counting on you to help me out as I'll do for you. Remember, you're all my brothers and sisters. If we do this right, we get paid, big-time."