Abuse of Chikara (book 1)

by Stanley Cowens

  This old flea market had been something of a godsend. He would have to figure out how to keep this place. Even with the top floor totaled, it served him well. He could get his hands on money no problem. The local drug dealers would be more than happy to donate to his cause. Hours later he was still walking around playing with his special hearing ability. He never knew listening in to people’s private business could be so fun. Listening into private conversations gave him an insight into people that he never really had before. People often showed a fake persona to the outside world. They conformed to fit in or make money. If he remembered his college classes, persona was a Greek word-meaning mask. The word personality had come from it. So your personality was your mask that you wore to the outside world. He knew people were racist, sexist or just low-down. It was a learning experience to hear it unfiltered in people’s own words. He had become so lost in his thoughts that he had not even noticed the two officers parked nearby. He creeped into a nearby alley and walked about 20 yards in the other direction. They did not even notice him creeping around and hiding his presence from them. He decided to use his new hearing on them. Two Caucasian officers were whispering to each other about something. He was willing to bet something naughty that little boys in blue were not supposed to be doing. Focusing, their words become crystal clear as if they were right next to him.

  “Chuck, why are we taking this broad home instead of to the station?

  “We take this broad in and she’ll be out in a day or two. Chuck is about to hit this shit. You just watch out and make sure nobody gets close, okay.”

  Chuck was a white officer about 6 foot, 3 inches and heavyset. Lenny was a short white male about 5 foot, 9 inches and slim. Chuck grabs a young, buxom white female maybe 5 foot, 7 inches with blond hair from the back seat of the squad car. The young white female was obviously not a willing participant in this little get together. The female was begging and pleading with Chuck to let her go. Quinton could easily tell what was going on here. No doubt that Chuck and Lenny had caught the young girl prostituting. They would take turns taping her. What prostitute would actually report it to the police and admit she was breaking the law herself. The same thing allowed police to shake down drug dealers with little repercussions. Chuck had taken the woman into a old boarded up brick building. Someone had removed the boards for the front entrance. It was time to teach these guys a little lesson. Quinton walks out of the alley toward Lenny,who is nervously looking in all directions. Lenny finally notices him and starts to address him in that tough guy voice many officers used out on the street. “Keep walking, brother, nothing to see here.” Quinton keeps walking toward Lenny at a slow pace. “Dude, keep walking, or I'll bust your ass!” Quinton keeps walking toward Lenny until he is about three feet from Lenny. He gives him a big, warm smile. He has something very special planned for these two fellows. Lenny is already agitated by being the lookout man, and he does not take Quinton’s presence happily. His face twists in rage as he starts screaming. “Are you fucking blind, deaf and dumb? Get the fuck out of here before I shove my baton up your ass.” Quinton laughs at Lenny's reaction to his presence. “You want me to leave so your partner can shove his little baton up that girl, huh?” Quinton starts walking toward Lenny again who goes for his gun. In a blur of speed, Quinton grabs Lenny's wrist and breaks it. A light blow to the head puts Lenny into dreamland. The handguns that most officers carried would not do anything to him unless it was a direct hit to an eye. Even then, it would not cause any lasting damage. He did not want a loud noise to bring nosey people into it though.

  Chuck does not seem to have noticed his friend being smacked down. Quinton can hear the young lady screaming and pleading for Chuck to stop. It seems he had started forcing himself on her. Quinton threw Lenny over his back and ran upstairs to the second floor. Chuck had the young girl on an old mattress in the living room of one of the units in this old building. There was no door, so he walked right in and put Lenny down on the floor. Chuck was so engrossed in his sexual antics that he did not notice Quinton walking up behind him. Chuck was thrusting back and forward on top of the girl like a wild man. Quinton grabs Chuck by the neck with his left hand and lifts him into the air. Chuck tries to go for his gun to no avail. Quinton easily disarms him and slams Chuck into a nearby wall repeatedly until the fool stops squirming around. He tosses the dazed officer on the floor and searches both men's pockets. The search turns up over $3,000 in cash. Guess crime did pay after all.

  Taking money from these clowns, along with money he has taken off thugs, Quinton now has about $10,000. Quinton gives it all to the girl, who call herself a cab on her cell phone. It seems her name is Melissa and she ran away from home a few years back. The girl clashed with her conservative Christian parents over her wild lifestyle. Quinton tells the cab driver to take her to a motel for the night. She would head out on the earliest Greyhound bus to Milwaukee to stay with her parents. The family sure had been happy to receive a phone call from her. He had been thinking of revenge only, but maybe he could actually do some good with these powers as well. When he died he was going to hell, so he might as well make the most of it. He was going to toy with these two fools for a bit and kill them, but they deserved more than a quick death. These were rotten bastards who used the law to prey on the weak and helpless. He finds some handcuffs in the police charger he uses to handcuff them both to a radiator in the room. He breaks one leg of each man so they cannot escape quickly even if they got out of the handcuffs. He shoves their socks in their mouths and tapes their pie holes shut with duct tape. He wants to hear then scream, but not too loudly

  A quick search of the building turns up tools, a hot plate and cooking and cleaning utensils. Apparently someone had been doing work here. Most likely getting the place back in shape to start renting the units out. He had been heating butter knives on the heating plate for some time. Good thing the electricity was still on. Taking one of the smoking knives of the plate, he presses it to Chuck’s face. He holds it there for a good minute. The small butter knife crackles and hisses against Chuck’s skin. Chuck screams and wiggles trying to break free of his handcuffs. The blade leaves its impression etched in Chuck’s skin over and over, each time burning through both layers of skin. Quinton alternates between different knives to keep them hot. Even if Chuck could get away, Quinton would just break his other leg. He had considered doing just that, but wanted to save that for last. Chuck’s partner gets the same treatment. Stepping back a few feet, Quinton admires his handiwork. Not bad, but he was only finished about 1/4 of his art work. He then finds a gallon of some off brand bleach. The front label read “Dirt be gone.” With a black marker, he writes “Dirty cop be gone.” He begins pouring the bleach in the various wounds over their bodies. The two scream out and whimper in pain at the harsh bleach entering their wounds. “Ah, it’s music to my ears gentlemen. Not so much fun when you are on the receiving end, is it assholes?”

  Not too shabby considering he had never been to art school. This pain was a small price to pay for the pain and suffering they caused others. “So, Chuck, you enjoy shoving your cold sausage in people against their will. Let me warm that sausage up for you brother.” He presses the white-hot butter knives against Chuck’s penis and testicles. Chuck screams like a banshee and passed out. “Dude, women don't like men with no staying power, bro. Oh don't be jealous, Lenny, I have more than enough hot loving for the both of you.” He takes the hot knives and starts moving toward Lenny. Lenny starts shaking violently and pulling on the handcuffs. Quinton takes the hot knife and smells the smoke pouring off the blade. “I could make a cologne scent from this and make tons of money. I can see the commercials now. A muscular young buck with tons of half-naked women around him. An unseen voice actor would say ‘burnt penis; it makes the ladies go wild.’ I wonder if Frank Welker is available to do the voice work? Sorry to keep you waiting Lenny.” He moves closer and puts the still hot blade against Lenny's penis and genitals. Like Chuck he also passes out from the int
ense pain.

  This had been fun, but it was time to go. He left the building and found a pay phone on the corner. Not too many of these things left around these days as most people had a cell phone. Not to mention the former mayor had some silly idea that getting rid of pay phones would deter drug dealers somehow. In fact, gangbangers were among the first adaptors of cell phones back in the day. Many drug dealers carried them around as a status symbol. Many of these politicians did not seem to really think out what crap laws they passed. Getting rid of pay phones had just created an inconvenience for other people who did not have a cell phone at the time. At least this one was here and worked. He made a quick call, letting the local police station know about the situation and then left the area quickly. They would find the two fools and maybe they would survive. Maybe they would learn a valuable lesson and change their ways. He did not kill either of them as he had wanted to at first. He decided he wanted them to remember this experience for the rest of their lives.

  The police would be here soon so it was time to jet. He could of course handle them, but did not want to waste the time. He wanted to pick and choose what battle he got into. That way he could make sure only evil people got his foot in their behinds. He finds a McDonalds is a few miles away and orders 25 Quarter Pounders, five orders of fries and a Coke. The young lady at the register is highly amused at the amount of food he is buying. She gets her female supervisor who cannot believe the order amount either. The supervisor has him repeat what he is ordering at least four times. They snicker like school girls while he comes up with a story to explain the amount of food. He is picking up this food for people at the office and not just himself. He leaves and quickly finds the closest sewer exit that would take him close to home. Wonder how hard those two restaurant workers would laugh if they knew this food was really all for him? He finally makes it home and goes through his stuff. Damn, they gave him a Diet Coke. He hates Diet Coke and any diet pop actually. Never got why people purchased fatty burgers and ordered a diet pop. Like that diet pop was going to offset all the other fattening shit you were eating. He wondered if that chick taking the order had put in the diet pop as a joke? What the hell, it really did not matter, as he still had a few two liters of regular pop around. He began shoving the burgers down his mouth like a starving man at a buffet table.

  This was one of the cons of his newfound abilities. He had to eat far more than any normal human would. He had to eat a great deal, and often, to maintain his strength. He ate about 15 times a day and not just small smacks, but large meals. He would have to figure out something in the long run as constantly going out to get food had him out in the public too much. He had easily gone through the majority of the old foodstuff in the flea market quickly. Some long-term planning was definitely needed here at some point. He flicks on a small color TV he had found. Whoever it had belonged to had one of those converter boxes. He sat around watching TV and waiting for night-time to go prowling around for thugs to prey on. He decided to take a nap and start off well rested. He wakes up feeling rested and ready to go. Checking his watch briefly he is ready to go smack down some punks. The police would have a stronger presence around the Madison and Maypole area because of his abuse of Chuck and Lenny. He wondered what they had actually told their fellows officers. He somehow doubted they would include their attempted rape of the young girl.

  He decided to go around Western and Madison to see what was popping. He decided to play with his super hearing some more. He leaps on top of a old one-story building next to a McDonald’s and lays down and begins to concentrate. This feeling would be hard to describe to anyone else. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, like floating on air and being a feather’s weight. He could actually see sound waves represented by strange symbols he didn’t recognize. Perhaps the symbols were in some other language he was unfamiliar with. By willing any symbol close to him, he could hear any person’s conversation from great distances. He would come out of the trance like state and hear them like they were sitting right next to him. The only issue was his hearing would go back to normal in 10 or 15 minutes. Perhaps he could extend the time with more practice.

  It seems a young group of what sounds like white boys had decided to hang around in the hood and score some weed. He could hear them talking about how they were going to be hard-core gangsters, rob people and so on. He had seen the type before. Had actually arrested the type back when he was a cop. Most were silly teenagers who watched music videos and old gangster films all day. They had embraced the fantasy without understanding that these popular forms of entertainment only represented a fraction of real life. Most blacks were not driving around with extra large rims; gangbanging and smoking weed all day. Usually these kids grew out of it or met a bad end. These guys seemed like the later type. He debated killing them, but giving dirt naps to kids was something he did not want to make a habit of yet. These wannabe thugs still had time to change their ways. He would give these guys a little scare and a boot in the ass if need be. Shock some sense into them, so to speak. The only issue with the super hearing is that it did not tell him exactly where people were located. He had heard one of the kids talking about just seeing a basketball game. The United Center was his best guess, so he heads out towards Damen, running at super fast speed down Lake Street; he gets to Damen quickly. He finds five white teenage boys wearing baggy pants, caps and plenty of bling. He waited until they got on the Madison bus and he boarded as well. It was possible that they were just talking crap and would do nothing. He could hear them in the back of the mostly empty bus talking about whom they would rob or rape. They got off on Western and so did he. He walked past them and decided to give them a little test. He would give them an opportunity to show how “gangster” they really were.

  “Damn, look at all this money I have. I hope no one decides to rob me and take my money. Let me count this money out loud so I know how much I got. Wow, I bet you could get a lot of prostitutes and video games with this money! What am I thinking one dude walking around by himself with no witnesses around? Hell, they do not even have any blue light cameras around here. I am glad no real gangsters are around here. Those dudes would totally pimp smack my ass and gangster this shit. Good thing there are no real gangsters around here.”

  These five clowns, of course, take the bait as planned. It was not in doubt, though. Teenagers were not known for being the most mature people in the world. As far as teenagers from any race went, these were not exactly the most intelligent. You would not go broke betting on these guys being stupid. He started walking slower so the punks would not have to work too hard to catch up to him. He ducks into an alley on his left, which is a dead end. Even better now he just has to make sure they do not escape out the other end. The five punks enter the entrance of the alley, and two of them are brandishing handguns. A handgun would not do any damage to him, but he wanted to test his reflexes a bit. He could move at super fast speeds, but what about his accuracy and aiming. He pulls his own handgun with a motion that is a quick blur. It does not even register on the thugs’ minds that he has moved. He shoots both guns out of their hands. He was on them quickly knocking them around the alley like babies. He grabs two of them and slams their heads together. This was one of his favorite moves he had seen in many action films. One boy went down with a blow to the stomach and a backhand to the head from his right fist. The other two tried to run, but he grabbed them quickly and knocks them out with two light jabs. Since they wanted to rob him he decided to give them a taste of their own medicine; it would only be fair. He takes off their clothing, watches and jewelry. He even tears their underwear and socks.

  After he’s done he stands back to admire his handiwork. It would be a shame to let all these nice clothes, cell phones and watches go to waste. He finds some homeless people on a nearby corner drinking, dancing and singing. He was in luck as there were five of them. He did not know if the stuff would fit, but that would be their problem to figure out. As expected, they were more than happy to
take the clothing, money and other items. He throws the IDs down into a sewer grate and heads back. Following them at a distance, he can hardly contain himself. The five idiots try and hail a cab who, of course, refuses to let them sit in the cab with no clothing. Next they tried to get help from a group of guys hanging out on the corner a few blocks down. These guys just laughed at them and refused to help. Finally they stopped a bus driver who contacted the police. Of course, they had to deal with everyone on the bus laughing and jeering at them. He could see their body language and facial expressions. Having enhanced vision was a great thing. He could not help laughing as even the police made fun of them when they arrived on the scene. Who knows maybe this would be a wakeup call to these guys. Maybe they would remember this and avoid trouble in the future. Sometimes life taught us hard lessons, but it is up to us to learn from them. Some people did learn from their mistakes, but many did not. In any case, he started to head home to the flea market. This had been fun, but he needed to get back to business. He would get a good rest, and wake up in the morning to hunt gangbangers and crooked cops.

  Bill had been calling Dirty Red for at least an hour now with no reply. It was not like Red to ignore him. Psycho Boy would get lost in some nonsense at times, but not Red. This was not his style at all. He hoped Red had not bitten off more than he could chew. It would be hard to replace someone like him. He was a guy who was intelligent, ruthless and loyal as well. He had to consider the possibility that Dudley Do-Right had gotten to Red. If that was the case, he would need to work faster. It would only be a matter of time before Quinton came for him. The former superintendent was picking off crooked cops left and right. Even with the police strike going on, he had not slowed down at all. There was talk of bringing in the National Guard to restore order. Would they try and deal with Quinton as well? For that matter, how strong was Quinton anyway? Most weapons they had used had not had much effect. Many police departments in big cities had weapons capable of taking down aircraft. Something like that might be strong enough to take down Dudley Do-Right. Using something like that would cause a great deal of problems for Bill, though. Quinton, despite his abnormal strength, was not a plane. How would one go about explaining the need to use something like that on a human? Not to mention Quinton frequented public places, which would make it more difficult to use. Large numbers of innocent people getting blown up would not help his chances of running for office. Running for office was something he had worked towards for years. First, maybe a few minor positions working for the mayor. He needed to build up his political credibility and experience. No, he would have to deal with Quinton using methods that would not, could not hurt his mindshare with the public. His carefully crafted image of a heroic officer could not be damaged under any circumstances. It had been over two hours since he had last tried calling Red. He was not the type to go into panic mode, but he wanted answers and he wanted them now. He decided to call all of Red’s buddies and check out some of his known hangout spots. Anything was better than sitting around wondering if something had happened.