February 25th, 2010 | The Bronx, New York City“The Year of the Tiger”
I can still remember the night where my little idyllic life in The Bronx fell into the shadows of the darkest pits of misery; the night where my brother, Hector, was taken from not only from me but this world. It makes me so utterly angry to the point there is so much hate and rage that I don’t know what to do as I can feel it festering in my stomach like a disease. Hector had always told me that hatred was like a disease, and I understand that now firsthand as I feel it. But what is the cure for such an emotional disease? Every instinct I have in my body tells me the answer, and I’m not sure my brother would agree… no, he would definitely not; because the answer I feel in my bones is taking what has been done upon me and striking out at those who have wronged me – an eye for eye. But where would my brother to disagree with how I feel? He brought down an entire criminal faction that was poisoning The Bronx over a family matter. This is the same; I can feel it in my heart.
What is more legitimate than what is in the heart?
As I think this I reach to my belt, retrieving something from one of the pouches; my eyes gaze downward.
“We looked so happy then.” I can feel my eyes tear a little beneath the mask, but now is not the time to break— there will never be another time again. Weakness is why I am standing on the edge and Hector is with our parents. If I could’ve been stronger I could’ve stopped that man from striking the last injury my brother received. But that was then and this is now; the people who did this to me and my family will pay and they will receive their vicious justice, I will make sure of that.
I flip the photo back where I retrieved it from, my eyes narrowing in the darkness of the night.
I will find the shadow who escaped me, I will find out who sent him, and I will see justice served by my hands. I don’t know how I will achieve these goals but I know I will, there is no question about this, there is no answer in the universe that will tell me I will not or can not; such things would fall upon deaf ears. The only clue I have is small and my brother’s small logbook of contacts suggest I talk to one Alexander Knox for information going forward; which is exactly what I will do.
There is much in-between my current location and Knox’s place of employment, and I have been craving on dealing with the criminals of The Bronx. Is it an outlet? Probably; but it is also my responsibility since donning the attire of my late brother and I will continue his legacy as the
White Tiger.
The fight continues, as they say.
BANG! BANG!
Two gunshots.
—and from what I can tell it is nearly around the corner from my current position.
Heh.
The timing is almost too perfect, but it is too close to pass up my first encounter with armed thugs as the new White Tiger. My toes are lifted from the rooftop before I even think too much on the issue; moving forward on a sort of primal instinct. Before I’ve even landed on the next rooftop my thoughts are moving and wondering if it’s me or the amulet that is in charge of my reactions here. My brother never really taught me the history of this amulet and it’s not like it is whispering in my ear either, so all I have is a little bit of training and some of my brother’s convoluted speeches to go off of. I… I really miss those speeches, to have one more lecture or boring lesson about meditation or self-defense from him… it would be wonderful.
I have to remember them before the memories are faded like dust.
I
will remember them.
I can feel the anger in my body twist and turn as I land hard on the next rooftop; the anger that keeps me going.
My feet don’t stop as soon as they hit the rooftop— turning into a sprint as I come closer and closer to where I heard the gunshots from. Though this entire sprint could turn out to be pointless, which is something I realize as I consider that it could be anyone from armed police officers to other vigilantes… perhaps not the latter, I don’t think there is another vigilante in The Bronx outside of perhaps The Prowler and he doesn’t use bullets; he’s much too extravagant for that. That leaves me with police or thugs; my gut tells me it isn’t the police and I don’t hear any sirens or screams of authority.
My body halts on a dime on the ledge of the current rooftop as my eyes instinctively dart downward to the left.
That’s when I see it: a group of hooded thugs, who I don’t recognize flying any important colors or flags, are approaching a woman about my age as one of them holds out a smoking gun in hand as she holds her boyfriend who is bleeding out pretty bad. If he can make it to the clinic around the corner maybe he can survive— but I’m sure these pieces of crap don’t want to let it be. What gain do they have on attacking some couple in an alley? No sirens yet— probably
won’t chime off, this isn’t a great part of The Bronx. I bite my lip underneath my mask as my brows narrow.
Not in
my neighborhood.
My body flings itself off of the ledge as I turn mid-air into the side of the adjacent building that also overlooks the alleyway and I slam down into the group of thugs in a matter of an instant. The likelihood is they are still armed if a handful just hit the concrete like a sack of potatoes. I’m pretty sure a few of these men will have plenty of fractures and broken bones— and I haven’t even thrown a punch yet.
This feels
satisfying. “Holy shit, it’s the White Tiger!?”
I grin underneath my mask. That’s damn right.
“Naw man, the White Tiger ain’t a—”
CRACK! CLANK!
She is now and your doubt is why your arm is broken and you’ve just been thrown into a dumpster.
These thugs know the
original White Tiger, and admittedly my brother was a bit of a gentle guardian who never
intended to do
harm. That is the big difference between him and I; as I very much intend to do
lots and lots of harm to people who rightly deserve it and these people certainly do. I can hear their heartbeats pace faster and faster as I almost imagine the taste of their fear. One of them scrambles and aims his handgun at me. However, he’s too scared to notice when I jumped his group I dropped his magazine clip and I can't help but chuckle in his face. Oh, I’m going to break him worse than
The Amazing Newt broke the Hollywood Blockbuster standard.
The next few minutes go by fast as I feel the effects of the amulet augmenting my strength, reflexes, and speed. The last thug bolts out of the alleyway but that doesn’t matter as I will catch him. The rest of the group is dealt with by now and my eyes are upon the couple to which I reply by pointing in the direction of the clinic.
“There’s a free clinic. If you hurry, he’ll live.”“Are you going to let that guy get away?”
“He won’t get far.”
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