Heat
I can feel the clouds comin’ over from here to there. When the sun is blocked it’s a relief that almost needs a prayer of thanks. Until I knew of these damn ice vests I would have gone through at least five gallons of water by now. It’s not even the hottest it’s gonna to get.
He keeps low to the ground as he jumps to the next rooftop. Jason has been keeping to the daylight more then any other time in this city. It has only one real advantage and that’s how he’s able to sneak up on some people in plain sight. No one expects to see some guy in a mask during the daylight. It’s almost perverse.
I hate this city. What am I sayin’? I hate most everythin’. Well not everythin’. An now the brain needs to keep it in the game. Keep goin’. Ready or not here I come. This sucks. I’m ramblin’ in my own head.
And finally the rambling stops while Jason notices a dealer. For a quick moment he thinks how much easier all of this would have been if he just drove to the opposite side of town in a car. Though that just leads to more people being able to trace Jason Todd to his taking up the Red alter ego. Not that it was much of an alter ego.
But no matter how much of a small time operation this is, Jason can’t help but at least get this guy off of a street corner. It’s something that digs at his gut. For those that lived in the suburbs or rural areas, they know they can just keep driving along. Anything that doesn’t have a Starbucks down the street is a bad part of town. Something that should be avoided. A shame to see but you can at least drive away. But for Jason, he hears another baby already strung out on a drug that it never took itself. A screaming cry that can never be satisfied until the drug the child never knew is taken in. And that is enough to have Jason fling himself down to the sidewalk in front of the pusher.
“Son, better back off.” The dealer only gets a quick eye of Jason in his way. Though when Jason speaks, the crimson covered helmet is well within view.
“Son, betta get a steppin’.”
“C’mon dog, ain’t no need for this shit. We cool?”
“We cool? We cool?” And the relaxed attitude of the slinger is all it took for Jason to almost loose it.
“Ya got any idea what I’m gonna do to ya?”
Jason may be furious but he’s not an amateur. He already knew this guy was going to reach for his weapon and fire randomly and then run. It’s something you can feel. Tension builds up until something finally pops and there’s no reason. You know what to expect that only means you already won. In this case that’s true as Jason twists around the dealers wrist. With a firm grasp on the pressure point of the dealer’s wrist, Jason flips it around to hear a few of the smaller bones in the man’s hand snap out of place.
“What ya hear is only a start. Who the shit said ya can sling poison?”
“C’mon dawg. Shit. Jus’ tryin’ to make some chedder.”
“Worth ya life?”
“Wha?”
A pistol, actually a 92F Taurus 9mm, is unleashed with Jason’s other hand and rammed into the dealer’s forehead. The click of the hammer can be heard and Jason actually has to take a moment to grit his teeth to hold back the rage he feels.
“Is this shit worth ya life? Is it? Cause if it is I’ll slap ya punk ass matter all over the street. Ya want that shit?”
“N-no!”
“Bullshit! I think this junk is worth ya life!” The Taurus presses in further and he twists that wrist around a bit more to hear the faint sound of crackle from broken bones rubbing against other broken bones.
“N-n-! I swear! Please! Shit c’mon! I’m sorry!”
“Sorry for what!” It’s an order not a question.
“F-for for for, shit I dunno!”
“Y’sorry for slingin’ this junk on the street! Y’sorry for tryin’ to make people suffer so ya better in life!”
“Y-yeah yeah! I’m sorry!”
“Bullshit!”
A tear breaks on the dealer’s face though more due to pain both physically and mentally at this point. “Please don’t kill me. Shit man. Please. Jus’ let me go.”
“Don’tcha ever try an test my gangsta. Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”
The rest goes on without much of a surprise. The dealer runs so fast he almost falls forward on himself while Jason watches the guy run off. His arms stay crossed while watching, but he feels as if he should give more then he did. The pistol is still held out even while climbing back up to the roof.
You are not as whipped as I thought you were.
Ya don’t know me.
Was it tempting to feel that hammer fall and watch that man fall back with a portion of his skull missing.
There a point to this?
You need to let that dark part of your soul go. Let all that hate and rage out. You wanted to feed upon the pain that man was feeling. And when your belly was full with the pain, hate, and rage then you can take what you wish. Take it all Jason. You are so close. You were going to kill that man in cold blood with that pistol. That pistol made all the difference.
Yeah. A loaded pistol would have made all the difference.
What?
An now I know ya ain’t me. I knew that the 9 was empty. Game, set, match… bitch
He waits a moment and looks about as if there was something else to be said, but finally Jason shrugs and releases the clip that is completely empty. A bit of a smug grin shows as he places the weapon back up.
“Punk ass.”
He keeps low to the ground as he jumps to the next rooftop. Jason has been keeping to the daylight more then any other time in this city. It has only one real advantage and that’s how he’s able to sneak up on some people in plain sight. No one expects to see some guy in a mask during the daylight. It’s almost perverse.
I hate this city. What am I sayin’? I hate most everythin’. Well not everythin’. An now the brain needs to keep it in the game. Keep goin’. Ready or not here I come. This sucks. I’m ramblin’ in my own head.
And finally the rambling stops while Jason notices a dealer. For a quick moment he thinks how much easier all of this would have been if he just drove to the opposite side of town in a car. Though that just leads to more people being able to trace Jason Todd to his taking up the Red alter ego. Not that it was much of an alter ego.
But no matter how much of a small time operation this is, Jason can’t help but at least get this guy off of a street corner. It’s something that digs at his gut. For those that lived in the suburbs or rural areas, they know they can just keep driving along. Anything that doesn’t have a Starbucks down the street is a bad part of town. Something that should be avoided. A shame to see but you can at least drive away. But for Jason, he hears another baby already strung out on a drug that it never took itself. A screaming cry that can never be satisfied until the drug the child never knew is taken in. And that is enough to have Jason fling himself down to the sidewalk in front of the pusher.
“Son, better back off.” The dealer only gets a quick eye of Jason in his way. Though when Jason speaks, the crimson covered helmet is well within view.
“Son, betta get a steppin’.”
“C’mon dog, ain’t no need for this shit. We cool?”
“We cool? We cool?” And the relaxed attitude of the slinger is all it took for Jason to almost loose it.
“Ya got any idea what I’m gonna do to ya?”
Jason may be furious but he’s not an amateur. He already knew this guy was going to reach for his weapon and fire randomly and then run. It’s something you can feel. Tension builds up until something finally pops and there’s no reason. You know what to expect that only means you already won. In this case that’s true as Jason twists around the dealers wrist. With a firm grasp on the pressure point of the dealer’s wrist, Jason flips it around to hear a few of the smaller bones in the man’s hand snap out of place.
“What ya hear is only a start. Who the shit said ya can sling poison?”
“C’mon dawg. Shit. Jus’ tryin’ to make some chedder.”
“Worth ya life?”
“Wha?”
A pistol, actually a 92F Taurus 9mm, is unleashed with Jason’s other hand and rammed into the dealer’s forehead. The click of the hammer can be heard and Jason actually has to take a moment to grit his teeth to hold back the rage he feels.
“Is this shit worth ya life? Is it? Cause if it is I’ll slap ya punk ass matter all over the street. Ya want that shit?”
“N-no!”
“Bullshit! I think this junk is worth ya life!” The Taurus presses in further and he twists that wrist around a bit more to hear the faint sound of crackle from broken bones rubbing against other broken bones.
“N-n-! I swear! Please! Shit c’mon! I’m sorry!”
“Sorry for what!” It’s an order not a question.
“F-for for for, shit I dunno!”
“Y’sorry for slingin’ this junk on the street! Y’sorry for tryin’ to make people suffer so ya better in life!”
“Y-yeah yeah! I’m sorry!”
“Bullshit!”
A tear breaks on the dealer’s face though more due to pain both physically and mentally at this point. “Please don’t kill me. Shit man. Please. Jus’ let me go.”
“Don’tcha ever try an test my gangsta. Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”
The rest goes on without much of a surprise. The dealer runs so fast he almost falls forward on himself while Jason watches the guy run off. His arms stay crossed while watching, but he feels as if he should give more then he did. The pistol is still held out even while climbing back up to the roof.
You are not as whipped as I thought you were.
Ya don’t know me.
Was it tempting to feel that hammer fall and watch that man fall back with a portion of his skull missing.
There a point to this?
You need to let that dark part of your soul go. Let all that hate and rage out. You wanted to feed upon the pain that man was feeling. And when your belly was full with the pain, hate, and rage then you can take what you wish. Take it all Jason. You are so close. You were going to kill that man in cold blood with that pistol. That pistol made all the difference.
Yeah. A loaded pistol would have made all the difference.
What?
An now I know ya ain’t me. I knew that the 9 was empty. Game, set, match… bitch
He waits a moment and looks about as if there was something else to be said, but finally Jason shrugs and releases the clip that is completely empty. A bit of a smug grin shows as he places the weapon back up.
“Punk ass.”