This Shot's On Me

I give the Big Beast a solid shot to the gut and he doubles over in pain as I bring my knee up to his face, knocking him on his ass. The rest of the scum of this bar are on their feet coming at me with weapons in hand. Anyone without a weapon quickly smashes a bottle or a glass just to have something to gut me with.

I'm holding my own just fine though, dodging and blocking and giving out as much punishment as I can but eventually the sheer number of them all gets the better of me.

Three of them take out my legs and I'm on the floor rolling in liqour and broken glass. A bunch more of them get a hold of me and, lifting me above their heads, hurl me head first into the jukebox.

I hit the floor hard and do my best to shake it off.

As I get up off the floor all I can hear is the click, click, click of guns being cocked all over the room and I don't have to look to know they're all pointed at me. That thought alone is enough to give me the adrenaline I need to end this fast.

I stand up and go to the jukebox. It's beat to hell but I'm thinking it's still in working order so I toss in a coin.

I face them all down, drawing my swords as the opening of "She Sells Sanctuary" by the Cult starts streaming out of the soundsystem.

"Who brings a blade to a gunfight?" one of them says.

"You're right. What was I thinking?" I reply through clenched teeth.

In a flash I toss my kitanas straight up, stick'em in the ceiling, whip out my six shooters and let loose as the Cult kick it into high gear.

It's a bullet-riddled free for all as I leap on top of the pool table, flip across the room and land on top of the bar letting my dragons breathe their iron fire the whole way.

I take out at least half a dozen of these low lifes in less than a minute and the rest are such lousy shots that they're running on empty by the time the minutes done.

In a panic now, they all grab whatever's close to them. They're coming at me with tables and chairs, pool cues, bottles, and anything else they can lay their hands on. I can take it though. A fist here, an elbow there. The bones break and the blood flows and before long the floor is littered with their broken bodies.

All but one.

The sniveling little punk that led me here.

He stands cowering between me and the exit. Terrified.

"Just look at the mess you made." I say as I gather up my swords. "I'll tell you what..."

I grab a shot glass from the bar.

"...this shot's on me."

I hurl the shot glass at him and nail him between the eyes, knocking him out cold.

I step over bodies as I make my way out the door just as the Cult finish things up.

Damn, I love that song.

Chit Chat

As I approach the entrance I can hear the roar from inside. Sounds like a fun place. I open the door and the place goes silent. All eyes are on me as I make my way to the bar. I pull up a stool and order myself a beer.

I drink it down in one gulp and slam the mug on the bar. I spin around in my stool and take a look at the place. I'm getting death stares from all angles and it doesn't take me long to spot the punk from the street. He's talking to a big beast of a man and it's pretty obvious I'm their topic of conversation. Once they're done chatting the big beast just smiles and starts lumbering over in my direction.

"You looking for something?" he says.

"I'm looking for a lot things. But right now I'm just looking for a reason."

He laughs and "You're in the wrong place if you're looking for reason, Cowboy. Reason left this place a long time ago."

"You must be hard of hearing. I'm not looking for reason. I'm looking for a reason."

"A reason for what?"

"A reason to make you hurt."

It's hard to stop myself from laughing. Where do I come up this cocky shit?

Big beast starts laughing and the rest of the bar joins in.

"Did you hear that folks?! This guy wants to make me hurt. Isn't that funniest damn thing you ever heard?" he bellows at the crowd.

I shake my head and stand up in his face.

"You misheard me yet again, asshole. Not just you."

I turn and face the rest of the bar.

"All of you."

I've tried to deny it all night but I just can't help but feel that same old feeling.

That old feeling that always gets me into trouble.

This is really gonna be fun.

Workout

The weeks of recuperation have served me well. I feel more focused and clear in what needs to be done than ever before.

I'm in mid-leap and I hear the scream and I admit I'm getting a little excited. There's another scream and I doubleback to pinpoint it. I reach the edge of the rooftop and they're right below me. Three thugs have an elderly woman on the ground. Two of them hold her down as the third rummages through her purse for what little money she has.

I survey the scene a little more and then I take the plunge. I draw my sword as I fall and let it drag down the brickwall beside me, slowing my descent.

CRASH!!!

I come down hard on the roof of a parked car, sending all the windows shattering outward.

I think I have their attention.

They leave the woman alone and start marching towards me.

I take a leap and flip over their heads, placing myself between them and the woman. She's hurt but she can walk and I tell her to do just that. She doesn't want to see what's gonna happen next.

I can feel it the same as before. The thrill of it all is getting to me and I have to remind myself that as hard as it is to do, I shouldn't be having fun. This isn't a game.

The first one comes at me hard and fast. He's obviously had some training since his punches come with a rapid-fire focus that comes from someone who knows how to handle themselves.

He's still no match for me but I have to really be on my toes to dodge his attacks. What the hell? It'll be nice to actually break a sweat tonight.

I let him have his fun but when I see the other one coming to join in I have to drop him fast.

And the handle of my sword smashing against his nose does the job just fine.

I drop to the ground and kick out the other one's legs. I hear the bone snap and for a second I think I might be going a little too hard on these guys. But what do I care? They're still alive at least.

As his friends lay moaning on the ground the third little punk is shaking in his boots. I take one step towards him and he bolts.

I know I should let him go. I know he's nothing but a purse snatcher who's probably so high right now he won't even remember this tomorrow. But when I see him run into the fleabag bar up the street, a fleabag bar frequented by the likes of a lot worse than drug addicted purse snatchers....

I just can't help myself.

Besides... I could use a drink.

Suitin' Up

I've been laying low for the past few weeks. Just going over it all in my head. Regrouping, sorting things out, but above all else, healing.

I still can't believe I let it happen. My getting stabbed and having my back torn open sure wasn't part of the plan. It's just made me realize I wasn't ready. I was more than prepared physically, no doubt about it, this has all been years in the making. But mentally, not so much. I let my emotions play too big a part. I enjoyed it too much and I let the pleasure and the sheer thrill of it all distract me. It won't happen again.

I pace around my apartment endlessly, trying to burn off some energy but before long I can't take it anymore. I feel like a caged rat and I've got to break free.

So I suit up.

Black hat pulled low. Matching bandana concealing my face.

Black duster with the collar pulled high, hiding the japanese armour underneath.

Twin six-shooters on my hips with dragon-head handles and two ancient-as-shit kitana blades strapped to my back.

The perfect combination of the east and the west.

All this plus a few surprises of course.

Minutes later I'm hop-scotching across the rooftops, looking for a workout.

Looking for trouble.

NinjaBandit's first fight scene

CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don't know what's louder.

The shattering glass of the skylight as I plunge my body through it or the manic, gleeful laughter as I soar through the air, ready to find my fists a home.

It doesn't take long.

They come at me in a crazed spree. No planning or organization - just dread. None of them signed on for this kind of shit and now when they have to face it, all they can do is become what they've always been - spineless shits-with-a-pulse who crumble and cry once a newer, bigger, meaner kid moves in on the block.

And that's what I am tonight.

I'm new.

I'm big.

I'm mean.

And on top of that, I don't shy away from cheap shots.

I can't believe it but the first guy comes at me and he's actually smiling. He truly thinks he'll see tomorrow as anything but a hazy sliver of the near-death experience he's about to be catered to in T-Minus 3... 2... 1 .......

POW!!!!!

Hope you like eating through a straw, numbnuts.

Ok so it's going better than I expected. Their cries of excrutiating pain and the symphony of breaking bones are definitely adding a cocky edge to the proceedings but it all comes to a grinding halt when I feel it.

Or should I say don't feel it. Because I don't. But it happens nonetheless.

One of these vermin is actually able to pull a blade on me as I introduce his friend to the wonderful world of unconsciousness. And even though I don't feel it when it happens, it's still causing me a hell of a lot of trouble since.........

I'm now bleeding to death.

The adrenaline and anger flowing through my body is enough to keep me standing and drop the last few but I think you can understand the fact that I want to do a lot more.

So I find the nearest thing to me that might be remotely flammable and I reach into my pocket , pull out my lighter and it's barbeque central.

What's the main course tonight?

Gun-running scum who give people the means to kill each other and then cash their cheques and smile.

The blood loss starts to get to me and I stumble to the ground.

I'm able to drag myself outside.

I find some shadows to hide myself in and watch the cops/clean-up crew take care of the wreckage.

What can I say about tonight?

Mission accomplished. More or less.

Things got a little messy and I've got a lot to learn but, hey, it's my first time.

There's nowhere to go but up.

I'm just lucky my sister's a doctor..............and she knows how to keep a secret.

Next time: Costume Design

NinjaBandit's Big Debut

They've been inside for a little over an hour and the anticipation is killing me. All the prep work - the surveillance, the interviews, the background checks, the all night stakeouts - it's all coming together. And tonight's the night. The Big Debut. When the filth of this town will get their first look at the man who's going to clean it up.

The NinjaBandit.

The rain beats down and the wind is howling but it makes no difference. I can't think about something as trivial as personal comfort. Not when the bulk of all firearms flooding the city's streets are coming from the warehouse less than twenty feet below me and the scum inside are getting rich off innocent blood.

It's almost time.

I drop silently down from the ledge I'm perched on and step towards the glass of the skylight.
I can see them all plain as day and the thought that they have no idea what's coming puts a smile on my face. But I still have to wait. They're not all there.

I've got the suppliers in my sights but I need to wait for the buyers. Need to take out the whole lot if I'm going to make a bit of difference.

I watch them strut and swagger about the warehouse so pleased with themselves and I find it hard to keep my cool and then the door opens and the rest of the party arrives.

I wait for the money to exchange hands.

I wait for the deal to be done.

I wait until they feel safe.

And then I let them know that they're not.

NEXT ENTRY: NINJABANDIT'S FIRST FIGHT SCENE