2. Let Me Teach You

Two

Let Me Teach You

*CRACK* with a swift right hook, I broke one man's nose as he lunged forward to grab me. That was too easy. The other guys turned and saw him cowardly holding his nose, whimpering, and demanding them to "grab that fuckin' bitch!" Let's go, baby. "You want me? Just take me. I'm right here." I taunt them. The three other men tried circling me to enclose my position. Was I supposed to be scared? They looked like fuckin' idiots. I bet I am crashing nights for that party I'm supposed to attend.

Guy number two is dressed in a cholo outfit consisting of black and white flannel, loose khaki pants, with a red bandanna sticking out of his back pocket. This guy might be brave or just plain fuckin' stupid walking around town at night dressed like that. I can tell he is going to try something next. And right on cue, he pulls out a switchblade. "Oh, kinky… I like that." I said to him, his head tilted in confusion. He was jumping back and forth, alternating his feet, and I must say his footwork sucked. "Let me teach you all something." I loosened my shoulders to crack my stiffened neck, making it seem I was at a disadvantage to them, luring him close. This idiot does not know how to fight, even with a puny knife to his advantage.

Here he comes, jabbing the knife towards my stomach. I quickly grabbed his wrist with my right hand to gain control of the knife, and with my left hand, I grabbed his upper arm to push into him, shoving the knife into his neck. "Fuckin' beautiful, isn't it?" I looked over to the other two fucks standing there, shitting themselves. One finally moves and reaches for his phone. "Fuck this crazy bitch, I'm calling 9-1-1." He let out in a breathy and panicked voice.

I think I've had enough of a warm-up tonight. I looked swiftly at the elderly woman; her little head nod was all the confirmation I needed to know. She was alright, and what I did wasn't going to be spoken of.

If you are someone like us, the "nobodies," knowing the police in this town, they would side with those punk ass dudes. If I am completely honest, their parents probably ran something in this town, so they automatically assume they will have zero consequences. Damn, if only they were raised better. The rest of us in this town, whom no authority figure respects, know not to snitch on those willing to actually help for the greater good.

I hopped back on my bike, hidden in the shadowed area, switched from my Ghostface mask back into my helmet, and she purred to life.

I quickly glanced back and saw the fear struck in those lame-ass cowards. They are hovering over their friend, who is sitting there staining the concrete with his blood. They shouldn't have even attempted to fuck with me. For their sake, I hope they learned something tonight. If not, at least I know they can't fight worth a damn. I could have easily just spanked them on their ass and sent them home crying to whoever the fuck cares. But would they have truly learned anything? Hopefully, since one of their friends is most definitely dead, they take it as a sign to cleanse themselves and stop being dirty-ass scums.

Those pricks are precisely why I like doing my rounds around the town. Moving from a big ass city into a rural-ish area, you would think the crime level would lower. But not here. Crime rates are super high, and every year around Halloween, people assume it's the annual fuckin' purge. I glance down at my smartwatch. "Alright, it's a quarter after eleven pm," I tell myself while driving down a dark and dead street with my headlights off until I get closer to the highway. It's safe to assume it is party time. Let's go have some fun.

I had about six minutes left until my arrival. I have no idea about this place, and maybe I should have come a bit early to scope the place out. Fuck it, I will figure it out, I always do. I have time for one more song. I hit my skip button a couple of times, and bam, the song ‘Born For This' by The Score starts blaring, helping feed my adrenaline for the night ahead of me.

Violence runs in my blood, and rage consumes me entirely. I give no fucks about lives that could care less for others. Head bobbing to the song playing while a crooked grin sneaks onto my face. Tonight, someone will die, and the bloodshed will hopefully feed my aching craving for bloodshed. Darkness. Darkness is what I am, and you should be afraid.

I pull up distantly to this house where people are outside dancing, head banging, drinking, and screaming—killing my bike engine and silencing my arrival. I got chills seeing so many people and wondered who would feel my wrath tonight. I parked my bike near a distant tree line out of sight from others so no one could fuck with my baby and so I could leave quickly when I needed to. Reaching for my Ghostface mask, I take a look around the property.

The closest house must be the one I saw on my way up here, about 5 miles away. The dead crop fields run on forever out here. Trading my helmet for the mask, I position it and add a pin into my hair through the fabric to secure it in place so that it doesn't fall off easily and I can't be exposed. When I turn to make my arrival at the party, the fun is already about to begin.

In the distance, there was an old barn away from the house, tucked into the back of the property. It was in rough shape, and the siding had no paint. The roof looked as if it took a tremendous beating, probably from years of storms taking a toll on it. I can see a man in a clown mask walking through the high grassed area, hauling a girl over his shoulder toward the barn. She looked to be unconscious and seemed almost dead. I know this dude's intentions; they were nowhere near anything good, and he will not get away with it tonight or ever again if he happens to be a repeat offender.

I stayed low, in the shadows that I know best, staying out of view from this piece of shit and anyone else that was here. Time is crucial in situations like this. I can not be too slow, or I risk her safety, and I can not be too fast, or I risk being caught.

Minutes go by, and I finally am caught up, closing in on his position. Peeking in through a window, I see him lay the girl on a stack of blankets in the old hay, grunting aggressively under his breath. I started to see red instantly. I wonder how many girls he planned to rape tonight. All of these fuckin' people here, and no one, not a single person, noticed him taking her? I don't believe it, not for a fuckin' second. I scan my surroundings to see what I could use to my advantage and enter the barn with them while being unnoticed.

There is junk every-fuckin'-where, making it difficult for me to navigate around this place. Broken glass crushes beneath my feet, adding more tension to the already palpable place. I stumble into a bush covered in thorns, making me more pissed off at this situation. That is when I see it: a perfect entryway. "Hell yeah," I muttered lowly enough that only I could hear myself. A small hole, probably made from rotting wood, set there before me. I slowly creep my way over to it, making my body contort itself into the narrow opening. I could hear him talking to himself, "You fucking slutty little bitch, I will teach you how a man fucks." He let out. "You'll sure feel it in the morning and probably the rest of your miserable whore life. You should have never turned me down." You disgusting bastard. I need to find a way to end him quickly but painfully before he gets too far into this sick twisted shit.

He picks her up to angle her head towards the front of the barn doors. I am guessing so that he can see if anyone is coming. The dumb fuck should have checked his surroundings. This will work to my advantage. I look around to see if there is anything that I can use to have some fun with–what do you know, rope, some oiled old rags, and FUCK YES, a branding tool right next to a fuckin' torch. The devil himself set this up for me. "Thank you," I muttered quietly. This is going to be good. This sick fuck is lying on top of her, and his cock is bulging through his clown suit. He pulls his pants down and lets his cock spring free. And now I need to make my move before this girl gets raped. He pulls his clown mask up to where it sits on his forehead. "Make your move," I said to myself.

I let out a low whistle of disappointment. He whipped his head around so fast that he didn't even bother to tuck himself away. Honestly, I wished he would've—his little display gave me secondhand embarrassment, and I had to hold back a gag under my mask. This poor son of a bitch.

No wonder he couldn't just find a willing, sober girl. His cock looked fuckin' mutilated.

"Who's there?" he stammered, panic creeping into his voice. I stayed silent, hiding in the shadows, eager to see how this would unfold. "Fuck, this bean is messing with my head," he muttered, shaking his head like my whistle was some figment of his poor imagination.

He scrambled back on top of the girl, ditching the lovey-dove act he'd been putting on and adding more force to his movements.

He was getting rough with her, yanking her around to position her to pleasure him and lifting her legs at an angle to spread for him easily. He quickly stripped off her lower half and ripped open her blouse, exposing her breasts. I crept closer to him, clutching a two-by-four I found lying on top of a junk pile. My movements were slow and deliberate. *WHACK!* "Lights out, motherfucker," I said as I knocked him cold with a single blow to the side of his head, then I hurried over to cover the girl, leaving her exposed no longer. "Real smart, taking advantage of those who can't protect themselves," I muttered, primarily to myself since both of them were out cold.

After I got her dressed, I quickly shifted gears, dragging this jerk to one of the barn's somewhat sturdy posts. With the rope I found, I tied his hands behind his back and around a post—gotta say, the military taught me well with my knotting skills. I might just be better than the Boy Scouts! Maybe I should look into earning a patch for that.

I took a moment to strategize and catch my breath, feeling the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. I glanced at the girl, making sure she was okay, still responsive, and breathing, and then turned my focus back to the guy tied up. There was a bucket filled with water from the rain a couple of nights ago. He came to as I splashed it on him, groaning and trying to shake off the daze and confusion about what the fuck just happened to him.