The finest advice I remember was from my sensei, “The best defence is to not be there.” It was true on so many levels? Don't want to be hit, dodge. Don't want to be in a fight, run away. Even when you know somewhere is dangerous or not good for you, easily fixed, you just don't go there. I guess it is just another way of saying prevention is better than cure. Well, if I always did what I knew was right or smart life would be less interesting. Less interesting would be good about now.
Tonight's main event of interest is three gentlemen of questionable integrity who came from the right side of the path and stopped spread out in front of me. My shortcut home through the less than safely lit park seemed like a great idea but it's started to turn out to be sobering in a different way. All three are dressed in the finest thug chic; dark hoody with the hood up, old jeans and sneakers. I can't make out much of their features due to the darkness and clothing, only seeing hands and mouths but they are all roughly my height and build so average for a man. The right and middle blokes look dark skinned but more like a very tanned white than actual skin colour while the guy on the left is actually dark brown. Other than that the only difference is the guy on the right has a stubbly beard.
Roll for initiative.
Middle: That's far enough. Don't be a hero and we can keep this friendly. Give us your wallet and phone and no one has to get hurt.
Stubble and Lefty smirk and chuckle at that. Stubble is standing perpendicular to the path on Middle's right but a bit in front, keeping watch down the path both ways while Lefty stands in front and off to his left with a scowl and his right hand in his hoody front pocket. Guess they are going first, of course, I'm drunk … ish, so I guess I rolled with disadvantage.
Finally using some of those right and smart things that my sensei taught me, I raise my hand non-threateningly in front of my chest to appear as calming and non-hostile as possible while actually allowing me to put something between us and defend against attacks. I stopped off centre closer to Stubble so if the situation goes downhill I can move around to him first and use him to block the others, I can only fight one at a time after all. He is also watching me the least. Who watches the watchman? No sober up, distracting yourself will get you shanked, time to be serious.
David: OK no problem mate, not getting hurt sounds good to me. I'm just gunna reach into my pockets and grab them. OK?
Calm and steady is the way. Don't be twitchy and I might just make it home. Keeping my eyes on the trio I use one hand at a time pulling out my wallet then phone and passing my wallet to my left hand so I can pass them both at once and still keep my main hand free.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
It's then that fate decides interest is waning and a couple come round the corner of the path behind the trio and see us. Worst for them, the woman gives a surprised cry and Stubble sees them too. As they freeze up stunned he reacts in a panic and reaches behind his back.
His actions catch my attention and turning my head slightly my sight is drawn to him. The world seems to move in slow motion and my eyes are wide open in shock as he draws a pistol and points it at the couple. I don't know why, it was instinct, my mind said he is going to shot them and my left hand flicked out. My wallet bounced off his chest uselessly but the phone caught him across the eye and bridge of his nose. A shot goes off high and clear of everyone and I stepped forward.
Left hand grabbing his gun hand then twisting it while the right hand folds the gun back behind him twisting the gun loose and knocking it back in the darkness and breaking his trigger finger probably. Finishing up I spin at the waist and torque the back of my right fist into the side of his jaw and neck hoping to knock him out or put him down.
I miss what happens next as I am blown away and roll across the ground and onto my feet. I try to stand up fully but my left sags like a deflated balloon. I can feel my shirt sticking to my back, confused I touch it trying to pull it away from me as I look for what hit me. Standing where I was is Lefty holding something dirty in his hands. Letting go of my shirt I bring my hands in front of my body to defend myself but my hand doesn't rise well on my left and it is dirty now, sticky too. I hate sticky stuff.
Focusing back on Lefty I catch the back of Middle's shirt as he disappears into the darkness. I can't see the couple either, that's good but I wouldn't say no to some help, I'm feeling kind of tired for this kind of tense situation. My balance is wrong and I stumble forward and Lefty punishes me for it.
Tackling me to the ground and taking a mounting position above my hips, Lefty starts stabbing down wildly. Flailing my arms I try to protect myself unsuccessfully, my forearms and stomach have multiple cuts from the folding knife Lefty wields. Lefty pauses momentarily to take aim and plunges the knife towards my neck bringing his weight done behind it. Crossing and bracing my arms I just manage to halt the blade.
Lefty: JUST DIE ALREADY FUCKFACE!
Lefty's spittle coating my face as he leans into the blade. My strength is fading as I feel colder ... I'm going to die. What a shit ending. Murdered by a street thug is not acceptable.
David: No.
With this refusal some path in me opens, like I'm a sink and someone cleared a blockage, everything unneeded drains away. I can feel all my wounds but not the pain, my worries and fear wash down the metaphorical drain and I'm calm, everything becomes clear. I feel the pressure change on my arms and I look at his body, seeing his weight shift back before he raises up for another heavy blow. I can see and feel everything that is happening between us and exactly what will happen next, like step by step instructions in my head.
As his weight shifted back my right arm slides up the left forearm to my fist, temporarily support it. At the peak of his buildup during the pause between rising and falling my right hand move from supporting the left to cupping his fist and around the side of the blade.
I no longer have the strength to stop the knife from falling and what happens next is clearer to me that anything has ever been. As he collapses towards me with all his weight I let my left arm fail and twist my right as we fall into each other I close my eyes and wonder why this never happens in the movies.
Lefty reels back as his blood coats my chest and neck. The knife falls past my shoulder and I open my eyes to see him fall back and to the left. I just stare up at the sky as his legs flail across my lower body and his choking sounds fade as he passes.
As I relax the calm fades and everything returns but duller, colder and for added fun now I feel like every part of me is dipped in acid. Yet before and I can lie back completely and wait for the end a soda pop sounds rings out into the night and a flashing light cause me to look to my right.
My phone is lit up with a message, “Do you want more than this life? Want to live… a real life?” with two large buttons, YES and NO.
I would laugh at this ironically appropriate viral message but I don't think I'm able. In fact, I'm not even able to lie back, my mind is drawn to the message unable to look away or ignore it. Strangely compelled and knowing there is only one thing I can do my hand slides across the grass and lands on YES.
David: Sure, why the hell not.
Famous last words.