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[b][i]Crown Ridge, Maine[/i][/b]


Two nights ago, some communities within Crown Ridge were rocked by yet another officer involved shooting of an unarmed black man. While not a common occurrence in the city, the shooting added to the growing tally of such occurrences within the country, and as a result, tensions have been at a breaking point. At this time, little was known about the events that lead to the death of 23 year old Jamaal Wallace. In fact, there were conflicting reports about the fatal encounter. Some reports claimed that Wallace was complying with police at the time of the shooting, and other reports claimed that the police believed that he was reaching for a weapon. 

However, the only thing that was known for sure was that yet another young man was dead, and nobody could give an honest answer as to why.

“Hands up! Don’t shoot!” The crowd chanted in unison as it slowly marched from Sherborn Park into Salem Square. 

The protest had started out as a small gathering of a dozen or so people carrying signs and chanting slogans against police brutality and the targeting of minorities in the city. However, over the course of the night, the crowd had swelled and now several hundred people clogged the streets, blocking the roads as well as access to hospitals and other critical services. And despite the elevated emotions, the protest remained peaceful as the crowd moved through the city. The demonstration had not gone unnoticed. Several local and national news stations had sent teams to cover the protests. The news vans were scattered throughout the area, and there were several news choppers hovering in the skies overhead, recording the demonstrators as they marched through the streets. 

From a nearby rooftop, Lyger stood vigilant over the protest. He had seen how quickly things could escalate when emotions were running so high. He was well aware of other protests, just like this one turning violent all across the nation. The images of the carnage that the demonic serial killer and his “family” had caused in Lost Haven at a protest much like this was still seared into him mind, and he was determined that something like that would not be repeated in his city.

For the most part, with the exception of a couple of scuffles that were quickly broken up by either the police or other protestors, the demonstration had been largely peaceful. However, unlike the previous night, there was a palpable tension in the air, almost a heavy, uneasy feeling that the peaceful nature of the protests would not continue. 
It was not long before those uneasy feelings became a reality. Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass could be heard as several of the protestors tossed a trash barrel through the front window of a small time electronics store. Others followed suit, smashing their way into neighboring shops and stores. It wasn’t long before looting and robbing wasn’t good enough, and some of the rioters turned on one another. 

“Here we go.” Lyger said to himself as he left his perch and descended into the burgeoning chaos below.  

He guided himself down to the sidewalk near the businesses that were being looted. However, he immediately saw that there were more pressing matters at hand. Some within the crowd had turned on one another. Lyger set his sights on a pair of thugs who had a young woman down on the ground and were kicking her repeatedly while yelling obscenities at her. 

Lyger bounded toward the two thugs, hitting the first with a stiff kick square n the chest, which sent the man flying several yards before crashing in a heap on the pavement. The other man took a wild swing at him, which Lyger easily dodged and hit him with a roundhouse right, but before the man could collapse to the ground, Lyger grabbed him, and with a shoulder toss, sent the man crashing hard to the street.  He went over to the young woman who had been battered and bloodied, and offered her a hand. 

“Get to a hospital. You’re going to want to get that looked at.” He told her, motioning to a large gash over her right eye. The woman nodded and gingerly began making her way away from the rioters. Lyger had just turned his attention to a group of looters who were tearing apart a mom and pop toy store, when the Crown Ridge riot police began disperse the crowd. So instead, he fired a grapnel line from his wrist gauntlet and took again  to the rooftops, where he might go unseen by the city’s finest.