My legs descended from the heavens, smiting the evil entity known as Jordan with a devastating force. His chest and ribcage had already been weakened and cracked slightly, but this blow was beyond anything he had endured so far. The impact was so powerful that I almost went through his body, my heels tearing through skin and bone with a crunch. I could feel the organs beneath shift and twist under my boot, the sensation both nauseating and satisfying. Jordan spit up a mixture of saliva and blood, along with another substance I couldn't recognize, something dark and viscous. I had hit him deep, inflicting damage that he couldn't possibly recover from. He was on the brink of falling into shock. Your suffering does not end here. I slapped him hard across the face, trying to wake him up, but his body just wanted to die already. His own physiology was betraying him, surrendering to the overwhelming trauma.

I forced open his eyelids, holding them apart with my fingers. His iris struggled to focus on me, a flicker of consciousness still present but rapidly fading. I knew it wouldn't last long. His breathing was shallow and ragged, his body trembling as it fought a losing battle to stay alive. I stepped off of him, feeling the weight of the fight finally lifting from my shoulders. Breathing a sigh of relief, I took a moment to steady myself. The adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, but the immediate danger had passed. This fight is over.

Overall, I could've handled myself better. He was able to knock me down a few times, and I should've expected more than just BJJ. His karate surprised me for a few moments, but it was low level. Not even amateurish. The big takeaway is that he was able to control his adrenaline. Adrenaline is basically a superpower. He ignored pain that should've ended his resistance, but instead, he got stronger. It may be an assumption, but he seems to have a higher adrenaline secretion than normal humans. How is that possible, though? He doesn't have a thyroid problem. I considered the possibility of some sort of drug, maybe something developed by ECLIPSE. But no, that's too conspiracy-like even for me. Still, it's something worth pondering. The ability to control adrenaline to that extent could change the dynamics of any fight. If I could, I'd like to learn it.

I stomped on Jordan's foot, pinning him down as I spoke. "There's no way you're surviving this, so I can tell you who I am and why I did this, instead of that vague nonsense from before." His eyes widened in fear and confusion. I took a pair of gloves out of my pocket and put them on, ensuring I left no fingerprints on the items I was about to handle. I walked over to the underpass' wall and tore off a gray cover. This was the same type of cover I used to conceal the listening device. As I pulled it away, two items fell into my hands: a small gasoline canister and a matchbox. You can see where this is going.

As I shuffled through them, I explained, "You and, I think, two others killed my sister a few months back. You, specifically, broke her ankle and allowed her to be violated by one of your friends." My voice was steady, but the anger could've destroyed me at any moment. I took the gasoline canister by my side and stood over Tom. "Her diary spoke of three people she met in person, but one that talked to her online. Which, of course, makes me believe one of you took a support role in the act." I poured a spread of gasoline over him, only using half of the canister. The pungent smell filled the air, mixing with the stench of blood and sweat. I struck a match, the tiny flame flickering in the dim light of the underpass. "Don't worry, she will be subjected to the same fate too." I said coldly, and dropped the match onto Tom. Flames erupted instantly, engulfing his body. Good riddance. He did not move or resist. He had been dead for a while; this was just disposing of a corpse.

I hopped over to Jordan, making a cruel face as I did so. "My sister's name was Amy. I'll tell you about her for a moment." I said, my voice dripping with venom. I tipped the gasoline canister over Jordan, slowly pouring it over his legs. "She was a bright person, one whose friends attended the sentencing of her killer. Very close friends, if you ask me. They tried reaching out to me too. She was so kind the people around her were no less kind."

Starting to pour the gasoline over his chest, I watched the liquid soak into his clothes. "Guess what you did, though? You watched her get raped and murdered. Then you have the audacity to live like a rich brat. I will not let you be happy." The entire time, Jordan remained silent, staring at me with contempt, as if I were the bad guy. His mouth stood agape, and I poured a bit of gasoline into it. He didn't even react, unable to control his bodily functions. He would drown soon. I glanced back at Tom, whose body was about to extinguish, now charred and lifeless. I looked back to Jordan, who was still glaring at me with a mixture of defiance and fear. I pulled out a match and struck it, the small flame casting a flickering light on his terrified face. Holding the match above him, I mocked, "No one was able to save my sister that day. As no one will save you right now. Feel the despair." I let the matchstick fall, watching as gravity carried it down into his mouth. The moment it made contact, his mouth lit up like a firecracker, and the fire spread rapidly throughout his entire body. The flames consumed him, as his malice did so long ago.

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I lost control of my emotions and started to chuckle. The chuckle transformed into a full laughing fit, and I teared up. What a joyous day this has been. There were no fingerprints on the bodies, but sadly, I did leave some in the general vicinity. So, I must commit a bit of evil. I went over to the bushes lining the sidewalk near the overpass, where I had entered from. Hidden among the leaves was a spray bottle of hydrochloric acid. I retrieved it and walked back down the stairs, spraying meticulously over every surface where the scuffle had taken place. A few minutes later, the concrete started to sizzle and dissipate, the acid eating away at any trace of my presence. This should be good enough. I kicked the canister of gasoline and matchbox to the side, ensuring they were out of the way. Sorry city workers, shouldn't be too long to clean up. There were no fingerprints on them either. With the spray bottle of acid in hand, I took one last look at the two charred bodies lying in their final resting place. Satisfied, I turned and walked away, leaving them to their fate. Justice, in my eyes, had been partially served.

The next day..

I ran my morning route, sweat pouring down my tracksuit. Today's a good day, got a date later. My legs pushed forward, and my energy felt great. Man, I'm so happy to be alive. In the distance, I saw two people lying down. Ugh, these homeless dudes. Maybe they can at least be friendly. I ran a few hundred more feet, and horror overtook me. Holy shit! Somebody... there's two burnt bodies here! I skidded to a stop, my heart pounding in my chest for an entirely different reason now. The smell of charred flesh hit me, and the gruesome sight of the bodies made my stomach churn. I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking.

"911, what's your emergency?" the operator answered. "There's two burnt bodies here! I’m on my morning run and I just found them. Please, send help quickly!" I stammered, my voice trembling with shock and fear.

Six hours later..

I turned on the TV, hoping to distract myself from whatever had happened to Jordan and Tom. Maybe they just lost their phones in the scuffle. As I switched to the news, the host started discussing various topics, but none caught my interest. Finally, they cut to a reporter on the ground. "Yes, John. Today, at six twenty-two, these two bodies were discovered burnt under the Highway 101 Underpass," the reporter announced. I froze, my heart sinking as dread washed over me.

"They have been unable to identify the bodies, and the authorities are saying this is foul play. The murderer even left a gas canister and matchbox at the scene, which has no fingerprints," the reporter continued, each word sending sorrow down my spine. It couldn't be them. It just couldn't. "The authorities assure the public that they will do everything they can to find the perpetrator. They have been watching CCTV footage from around the area, but around here, the CCTV are not the most recent ones, so they might have some trouble. Anyway, that's all for now. Back to you, John." the reporter concluded, and the screen switched back to the station. I couldn't hear what was being said on TV anymore. Rage, wrath, anger—every synonym for those emotions surged through me. Sorrow was nowhere in my mind. I hurled the remote against the wall, the impact piercing through the drywall. Standing up, I punched the corner of the wall, crushing it with the force of my frustration. Pain shot through my hand, but I barely registered it. I screamed into the sky, "God damn it! Tom! Jordan!!"

Meanwhile..

I entered my sister's room for the first time, overcoming the fear that had kept me away for so long. The air felt heavy with memories and unfinished conversations. I stood in the center of the room, looking around at the familiar belongings that once filled her life. Falling to my knees, I intertwined my fingers and closed my eyes. "Amy, I'm still sorry I couldn't save you," I whispered, the words carrying the weight of months of guilt and sorrow. "but fear not, for the rest of them will perish shortly."

"Amen."