Of Monsters, Of Men

Chapter 2

Suddenly, meaty hands grabbed Harry's shoulder and left side and dragged him across the corner, into the narrow alley. Harry fell, unable to balance himself, but caught himself on his hands and knees. He dodged the first kick, but couldn't stop as the punches rained upon his vulnerable position, along his back, shoulders, and head.

Harry blindly tried to turn himself so he wasn't facing the dirty ground of the alley, but his assailant didn't let up. He flailed his legs, hoping to get a few strong kicks into his attacker. The grunt he received was also met by a brief period of respite from the flurry of blows.

Somehow, Harry managed to stagger back to his feet.

Billy. Of course it's Billy.

Enraged that Billy would be stupid enough to ambush him, Harry yelled as he struck forward again and again, landing multiple jabs on Billy. The sweet music of Billy's groans and grunts as Harry's fists met his chest and gut fueled Harry further.

Between their bouts of punches, Harry knew he was at a disadvantage. He had taken the first hit, weighed less, and was shorter than Billy. As they fought, Billy slowly edged Harry back farther into the alley. It was inevitable.

Harry was confident that he could escape the alleyway unharmed by taking a complicated route back to the orphanage, but he refused to let Billy turn him into a weak coward that fled at the first sight of danger.

I'm not a coward. I'm not.

And in any case, he wouldn't let Billy think he ever had a chance of winning. Harry packed more force into his punches, landing a satisfyingly solid haymaker on Billy's solar plexus. Billy lurched backwards, gasping for air as he collapsed on the ground, curling into a fetal position.

What a baby.

Harry scowled at the sight. Breathing deeply, he heard loud, hurried footsteps getting louder and louder. He turned his head and seethed at the sight.

Reinforcements.

Eric Whalley, in all his meaty, piggish glory was charging straight towards him around the corner of the alleyway.

It's not fair! Harry wanted to scream. I won fair and square!

The fight should have been over, if Billy had any honor or integrity. But he didn't.

If Harry hadn't incapacitated Billy when he fortunately had, he would have undoubtably been beaten into a pulp by both of Billy and Eric's combined manpower.

Harry skirted around Billy's prone form, retreating deeper into the alleyway, forcing Eric to sprint to keep up with him. Once he was a suitable distance away from Billy, Harry stood his ground and waited for Eric.

Both boys circled each other, wary of being the first to throw the first punch. Harry bared his teeth at Eric.

"You can't touch me, you stupid twit," Harry taunted, mouth drawn in vicious lines.

It was enough to spur Eric into action. Eric bellowed and sprinted blindly in Harry's direction. Harry evaded Eric's attack by sidestepping him and ducked to avoid his second jab. While crouching, Harry delivered a punch of his own right back to Eric. Eric doubled over, wheezing from the hit to his gut, and Harry seized the opportunity.

Harry kicked Eric to the ground, and began smacking Eric wherever he could with his school books. Who knew his mathematics textbook could be so useful? Amidst the litany of pained moans, Harry gritted his teeth, unstoppable in his tirade. Eric's pleas for him to stop went ignored. He had no mercy for someone that would have done the exact same thing if their positions were reversed.