Sunday, December 5, 2010

The Black Enigma: Filth, part 3

I move slowly and casually around the edges of the screaming mob. Curses and vulgarities are tossed about as casually as their money and the innocent dogs' lives. They yell angrily down into the middle where two dogs snap at each others' throats for the benefit of their owner's wallet. I sneak up behind the guard next to the iron door. I pull a tranquilizer dart out of the inside of my coat and stab it into his jugular as I pull the keys out of his pocket. I unlock the heavy door and slide inside, and pull it shut behind me.

I turn and see rows of cages housing angry starved dogs of all breeds. They look at me with hungry eyes and bear their teeth with a combination of growls and whimpers. I turn to lock the door, and hear the unmistakable sound of two pistols behind me. I turn around and see two men, who I presume to be canine slave-drivers, pointing their firearms at me from the other end of the room.

"Well," I say as I reach unnoticeably into my coat pocket, "this isn't the lady's room." I toss a couple smoke-pellets at the criminals and dive for cover as they open fire. The smoke fills the room quickly and I can hear the two men coughing wildly. I dart around the room, following the wall. Drawing my escrima sticks from my jacket, and leap at them from behind. I land a solid blow on the back of one of their heads, and he goes down instantly. The second whips around and fires his gun wildly, missing me by a healthy distance. I bring my right stick down on his wrist hard, breaking it, and he drops the gun. I extend my right arm, and bring the end of the stick swiftly across his face, and he falls to the ground.

I take miniature plastic explosives out of the inside pockets of my trenchcoat and stick them on the locks to each cage. There were about fifty dogs in all. I wake one of the two men and sit him up.

"I need your help with something," I say politely.

"Fuck you man," he growls at me. I smack him across the face with the escrima stick again, knocking him out. I wake him again.

"I need your help with something," I repeat.

"You got it," he says groggily. "Anything."

"You're too gracious. Now, I've set explosives on each of the cages here. I have the detonator. I'm going to go out there in the middle of all those scumbags, and let loose the two dogs fighting. When I'm clear, I need you to open that door. Can you do that?" He nods at me and I pat him on the shoulder. "Good. Because if you don't, I will hunt you down and put a bullet between your eyes."

I stand and walk over to the door. Before unlocking it, I make sure my pipe is filled. I click the key, and step out. I push my way down through the crowd until I'm right next to the fenced in dog-fighting ring. I take every smoke pellet I have left and toss them into the ring, blinding everyone in the room. I put a tranquilizer dart in each of the dogs to keep them from attacking me, and step over the fence. I wait for the smoke to clear, and strike a pose filled with ego and machismo. I puff on my pipe and the smoke clears, revealing me, standing in the center of a hundred criminals and low-lifes, with the fence down, and the dogs unconscious. They yell insults and threats at me, but I just smirk and chuckle.

"You are all scum," I say loudly, silencing the crowd. "Criminals, depraved and worthless. You are filth. And you've been flowing over this city's streets un-opposed for far too long. That changes now. I am The Black Enigma, and I'm coming for you."

I bend down and give both dogs the antidote, who wake instantly and angrily. I fire my harpoon line into the ceiling high above and start retracting it, raising me into the air to safety as the dogs begin attacking the nearest spectators. I detonate the explosives and see my helper throw the door open and the dogs pour out into the crowd, attacking hungrily. I swing on my cable to the door I'd come in from and land safely on the ground. I shut and bolt it, and turn down the tunnel from which I came. I can hear barks and screams and cries from within the room.

"Not bad," I say to myself. "Not bad at all."

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