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Modern Day Devils P9-3
By Snake - Mark
Mark’s mind was distant as he walked through the hallways of the school. His mind was on nothing but his current “situation.” Time stood still, completely still. There did not seem to be any release from the boredom that school had posed for him. He went through the day as if it were any other day, but due to a feeling he had in his gut, the chance of it staying this way seemed improbable.
“Hey freak!” A voice called from behind Mark, giving him what he wanted, something different.
Mark stopped on a dime and tilted his head backwards, turning his ear towards the voice.
“Yeah, you, Mr. Leather!” A second voiced called, making the situation all the more interesting. “Turn around…”
The voice trailed off, sounding as if the person felt insecure about his command; but Mark did as he was told. He turned, his feet looking like they never left the ground. In mid-turn, he spoke.
“Justine,” A smile fell across Mark as he found out he was correct, “There something I can do for you?”
“Just payback for the little incident in the locker room.” Justine walked coolly towards Mark. “You humiliated me in front of the team. I can’t have the team looking down upon me, y’know?”
His eyes peering past Justine, Mark saw that the group behind the jock was not the stereotypical group of drug-addicts and jocks he thought it was going to be. Instead, standing behind the fuming basketball-player was people Mark had once called friends. His “betrayal” to them, though, was enough to get him kicked out of the group.
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Mark stood outside the local Stop ‘n Go convenience store, his back pressed up against the brick wall. His arms were crossed over each other, and his eyes were hidden by the blackness of his sunglass lenses. If not for the glasses, you wouldn’t have a hard time figuring out that Mark wasn’t simply standing and waiting for someone, he was planning something.
His eyes flicked back and forth as they surveyed the surrounding parking lot. Mark’s hand reached inside of the vinyl jacket he wore that day, his fingers fiddling with something inside his coat pocket. Lifting his hand up, he brought the inside of his jacket closer to his lips.
“No pigs.” Pausing, he turned his head to look into the door-window of the convenience store. “One m, two w’s. Average thirty to forty. Cashier fifties.”
His finger released the talk button on his two-way radio. Over the past month of his life, Mark had been learning the language of the Street Walkers; a pig was the slang for a cop, m stood for male, w stood for woman, and any numbers following the sex of a person was their age.
The Street Walkers were Rocky Point’s local hazard team. The group’s main goal was to wreak complete havoc in the small, peaceful town. Mostly, the crew of the Street Walkers was delinquents when they were younger, now grown up into full fledged criminals. Mark didn’t fit into the group, not at all. His grades were high, his blood was pure, and he was an all around gentleman.
“Alright. Hold your spot. When the store is empty, respond.” A voice crackled over the walkie. The voice belonged to the school’s drug dealer, Hampton. Hampton’s last name was unknown, and it was almost guaranteed that Hampton was not his real name; but it was what he wished everyone to call him.
Mark stood his ground, his head occasionally peering back into the convenience store. The man pushed through the glass door and walked by the teen, ignoring him completely. One down.
Following the man shortly were the two women, gabbing about their daily activities during the bright, sunny weekend. Mark calmly reached back for the radio, pushed the talk button, and spoke softly.
“All clear. The building is all clear.”
From a black Accord, parked towards the back of the parking lot, ran four teenagers in black clothes. Their faces were covered with the stereotypical burglar stocking. As they ran by Mark, they smacked his shoulder gently. Mark smiled a little, but for all the wrong reasons.
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The heist was a complete bust. The police showed up moments after the robbers had entered the store, for they had been warned ahead of time. That weekend, Mark Laurence was rewarded for aiding in the bring down of the Street Walkers.
Now Mark stood in front of the same group of kids he once did business for, and not a damn person in the schools hall was going to help him. He didn’t blame them; the former Street Walkers were twice the normal size of every other senior in the school. Their muscle mass most probably averaged about the same of a starting professional wrestler.
“Well hey chico! Been a while since you backstabbed us.” The largest of the five chimed up. He was Hampton. “Fuck anybody else over recently?”
“Hey, what can I say? The school offered me a parking spot if I helped turn in the people vandalizing the students cars.” Mark shrugged, sighing out of what seemed to be boredom.
“Fuck that shit! We shoulda known. Your house was next on the list.” Hampton pushed Justine aside, confronting Mark closer.
“So what are you four doing back in school?” Mark’s eyes seemed to brighten, his lips forming a smile.
“Justine here says he had a problem with you over the weekend… and since Justine used to be a former Street Walker before he started basketball, I figured we could help him out; but when I heard his problem was with you, I knew we’d be able to help him out.” Hampton grabbed the collar to Mark’s jacket.
Students were now gathering around the six teens. Most of them were cheering the Street Walkers on, wanting to see some blood spilt. There were those, though, that rooted for Mark. Those people wanted Mark to prove that the everyday teenager wasn’t going to take crap from anybody.
“Back off, Hampton.” Mark snarled at the former drug dealer, his eyes staring down at the hand that grabbed his leather.
“Beat the fucking shit out of him Hampt!” Murray Jettison, the group’s ass-kisser, roared over the other students.
Hampton shrugged. “Yeah, what do I have to loose? We all owe you anyway, Laurence.”
The grip on Mark’s leather collar tightened. Hampton pulled his arm back, moving Mark closer to him. Pulling his arm back to strike, Hampton grinned.
“Sorry Mark, but we do indeed owe you.”
Hampton’s fist rushed towards Mark’s face. Mark heard the crack as the flesh of Hampton’s hand slammed into his nose. Hampton released his grip on Mark and watched as he stumbled backwards, blood pouring from his nose. Mark coughed, his hand cupping his nose to catch the blood.
“C’mon Hampton! Just fucking take him down already!” Murray chided up again, nudging the guy standing next to him, Stephen Wyle.
Hampton seemed to ignore the cheers to finish off Mark, for all he did was approach the injured teen and grab a chunk of his matted down hair. He pulled, sending Mark to stumble towards his other arm. Hampton’s arm grabbed a hold of Mark’s neck and tightened.
Mark choked, the grip on his neck cutting off his circulation completely. As is face started to turn blue, he heard a soothing voice from the crowd.
“Stop! You’re going to kill him!” Andria Lee could be heard loud and clear over the roar of the others. She pushed her way to the front, and her heart sank as she watched the boy that she admired the most get the life choked out of him.
Mark’s eyes met hers, his left one winking quickly. His face grew a darker blue until it was nearly purple, which was the color at which he collapsed to the floor, his head still in his enemies arm.
Hampton squeezed tighter, waiting until Mark fell completely limp before releasing him. The body of the teenage boy fell to the ground with a soft thud, the blood from his nose running along the brown-tiled floor. The students around no longer cheered, but instead fell silent, their eyes focused on Hampton.
“Holy shit Hampt. You killed the poor s.o.b.” Murray’s voice quivered briefly as he pointed out Hampton’s mistake.
Not to far down the hall, Hampton and the rest of the crowd heard the jingle of keys, and the loud, demanding voices of several teachers. Everyone seemed to panic, and the riot broke up.
Mark lay still on the floor as Andria knelt down beside him. Her hand pressed gently against the side of his head as she ran her fingers through his hair. Tears formed into her eyes as she watched him, hoping he would move.
The first of the teachers reached the problem area, immediately falling to his knees and pressing his index and middle fingers against Mark’s neck. A painful sigh escaped him as his head snapped over to Hampton.
“What the hell did you do?” The teachers voice roared, the other two teachers stopping next to him, their eyes laying on Hampton.
“I didn’t to… I… I didn’t mean to fucking kill him!” Hampton burst out, and finally coming to the realization of the severity of what he did, he turned swiftly and bolted, running into and past the other Street Walkers.
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Andria placed her hand on Mark’s cheek, watching the teachers briefly as two of them pursued Hampton. A tear fell from her cheek, hitting the puddle of blood coming from Mark’s nose. She knelt forward and placed her lips against his cheek, her tears coming down like the water of a rainstorm.
“Somebody call an ambulance!” The teacher knelt by Mark called out, and several students ran to the nearest office.
Andria’s lips pressed harder against Mark’s cheek as her rage for the fleeing murderer grew. She wanted revenge, she wanted, she wanted Mark.
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One. Two. Three. Wake up! Mark felt the soft lips of a girl pressed against his cheek, and without seeing who it was, he turned his head so his eyes were staring up at the ceiling and his lips met hers. He could feel Andria tense, and when he opened his eyes slowly, he saw hers were opened wide.
“An ambulance isn’t necessary, sir.” Mark said as he broke the kiss and sat up. Lifting himself to his feet, his eyes never left Andria, the shocked look never leaving her face. “You stay. I have something to take care of.”
Mark spun around where he was, taking a look at every surprised expression. He smiled softly, “If you think that’s surprising…” Mark turned to the window that ended the hallway and, without hesitation, began to run towards it. He built up speed rapidly, and the moment he hit full speed he jumped.
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The window shattered outward, his body crashing through the pane. He soared through the air for a moment, his jacket blowing behind him as a cape would. When he hit the ground, he turned and looked back up at the window. Standing in it was Andria, behind her stood the rest of the crowd of students.
Giving off a slight nod, Mark turned back around, his eyes searching for a clue for where Hampton ran off to. He lifted his nose into the air and sniffed it as a dog would. Cheap cologne and sweat. A perfect match. He ran off, following the scent that he had picked up.
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Lucifer watched from the roof of the school, pleased at what Mark had planned. “Let them know who and what you are, and maybe they’ll listen to you.” He didn’t move, his eyes watching his prodigy run down Rocky Point Yaphank Road in search of what would be his second kill.
5/1/2003 7:49:54 PM
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