You Dare Strike A Devil?

Chapter V: The Devil Rears Its Head

It was a cold, rainy night. Streetlamps and neon 24/7 shop signs were the only sources of light. The raindrops were hypnotic, each drop ringing in his ears. His shoes and the bottom of his sweat pants were wet.

He was walking home after his late-night gym session, his white stick moving from left to right, tapping alongside the droplets of rain. His tight black long sleeve muscle shirt is soaking wet. One hand holding up his duffle bag, trying and failing to keep him dry.

It was a relatively quiet night, couples from the near cheap love hotel making sultry noises. People talking inside their apartments. Random bugs trying and failing to find somewhere dry to rest.  Parents and their kids, watching a family movie in one of the apartments close to the gym. The buzzing noises of neon signs ringing every few blocks, dogs barking once in a while.

It was a cold, rainy night. Relatively quiet all things considered, there was just one thing that seemed misplaced. A penetrating, ear-piercing screech came from one of the alleys a few blocks away from the teen.

The 17-year-old teen stopped walking. He frantically moved his head around to pinpoint where the cry originated. When he finally found the sound, he collapsed his white stick and sprinted down the sidewalk, entering one of the alleys and climbing one of the fire escapes.

Reaching the top, already soaking wet from the rain, he continued to sprint across the rooftop, tossing his duffle bag in advance before he jumps across a gap. When he landed, he picked up his bag and proceeded to run faster.

Reaching where the cry came from, he knelt down, dropping his duffel bag beside him on the roof. Removing his red-tinted round glasses and grabbing a black blindfold inside his duffle bag, he tied it around his eyes and concentrated on the cry again. The rain slightly throwing him off.

"PLEASE, NO!" He picked up, it was a girl, probably nineteen years old base on her voice he thought. "Come on. I'm not gonna bite, well, I am, but, it's going to be enjoyable." Came another voice, a man this time. Probably in his early thirties.

"Please, stop." The girl whimpered, her hands being held above her head, "Yeah, there you go, stop trashing, I know girls like you," The man said, "Acting like you don't like it, but sluts like you are easy to read, walking down the street in this hour, wearing practically nothing," He said, licking her cheeks. "Don't worry, you'll enjoy this too."

"No, no, no, please, please stop, please," She wept, her legs being spread open, "NO! PLEASE, STOP IT!" But she was slapped across the face.

"SHUT UP, YOU SLUT! I KNOW YOU LIKE THIS! I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE~!" He said, running his hand on her thighs, "I know everything about you, from the men you like to the food you feed your dogs,"

"W-who a-are you?" She cried, tears mixing with the rain, "Pl-please, stop, I'll give you anything, j-just, just please, stop."

"Oh~?" Happily exclaimed the man, "But the thing I want is this-" He didn't get to finish his sentence. Because a person just fell down the sky, landing behind the man and promptly yanking him and slamming him on the wall opposite to the girl.

Before the man can react, he was swiftly punched on the side, then his face was slammed on the wall once again, resulting in his nose cracking.

The girl backed away, seeing someone beating up her assailant. She could hear the man's bones cracking from every punch this person is delivering him.

Every slam, every punch worse than the first. The person she's seeing is wearing a black long sleeve muscle shirt, the rain clearly soaking it, red high-top shoes, grey, or black sweat pants, though, the girl thought it was probably grey, the rain just making it a darker shade and to the girl's surprise, a black blindfold, covering his eyes, she couldn't make out his face, or hair color due to the darkness of the alley.