Spike

A little about Spike

Part One

Testimony

Chapter 1

Spike

He’s been planning this job for a few days now, and that was all he needed. Spike, in a tactical yellow uniform, sat on a bench in the back of an armored truck. His mission, he was after the man in charge of this corrupted operation, Louie Locke. Louie, unbeknownst to the public, and a big crime lord who -- as Spike knows -- is coming up with a scheme to get a stronger grip on the city.

However, Spike is not aware of what this scheme is, ‘We’re almost there,’’ he thought to himself as he saw the huge glass Locke Tower coming into sight.

“Almost here nooby!” said a small guy slapping Spike on his shoulder.

“Yeah thanks,” Spike forced a smile rubbing the spot where he was slapped.

‘For a little guy he sure hits pretty hard,’ He thought

Spike looked at the eight men around him, swallowing the lump in his throat, ‘If i don’t do this perfectly, it’ll end my career as a vigilante and I’ll be making soup for old ladies… again.’

He unshouldered his bag and dropped it onto the floor and rummaged through it. Silently and quickly he put on the homemade blade on his right arm. The shining maroon blade curved around his arm giving it a triangle shape that pointed out about five inches off his wrist.

Spike stood.

“Nooby!?” the small guy stepped back unsure, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

Spike grimaced as he put the blade into the gut of the small man,” Why, Nooby, why?”

“That’s what you get for being on the wrong side,” Spike pulled the blade out of his gut spurting rich blood all over Spike’s brand new yellow uniform. Spike looked up to see a guilty look on small man’s face.

“You’re right…” He coughed up blood,” I’ve done some bad stuff working for this man.” He fell with his back propped up on the wall. His eyes went blank.

Spike started to feel bad for what he’d done, but before he could process it he was pulled by two men and shoved into the other side of the armored truck’s wall, dazed, he grunted at the pain of their hard stony grip. He looked at  the two guys that held him, they were both bigger than him, but Spike had a case on top of his blade that held ten tranq darts.

He took his opportunity when the guard on his right moved his hand to his shoulder instead of his blade and fired two tranqs into the big man’s foot, with a cry he fell to the floor, unconscious. With his blade arm free, he punctured the man to his left in the heart with his blade, and he tucked and rolled out of the way of all the  other guards’ grasps.

Crouched on the back side of the armored truck he aim and fired a tranq making another fall unconscious.

“Come on will ya I don’t have all day,” Spike smiled a gleaming white smile, stepped into a combat position, legs bent and arms up.

He surveyed his situation. There was five men left standing and the alarms haven’t gone off. As Spike, knew they weren’t activated by the trucks but by the helicopter hovering above. Although the windows were tinted so no one could see in.

“No… you don’t,” a furious man stepped forward.

The men were positioned just like bowling pins, ‘too easy’ Spike thought. Before the furious man could react, though, Spike lunged towards him spinning around the furious man stabbing the man to his right, he died a silent death. He spun around and saw two huge guys as they tried to grab him, one on one arm and one on the other, with Spikes great strength he simply shoved the small men into the wall of the truck and they both went out cold.

The furious man stepped towards Spike, towering over him, “You’re too close,” Spike grinned.

“What do you mean I’m too close?” He became angrier.

“I’ll show you what I mean…” He took the flat of his blade and smashed it into the furious man’s nose breaking it making him step back, having blood pour to the floor from his nose. Taking the opportunity Spike did a final lunge slicing the furious mans gut making him sprawl out onto the floor wriggling in his pool of blood . Spike spat.

The driver didn’t hear a thing, Spike knew with a smile. He went back to his backpack crouched down to it and  pulled out a wrist rocket launcher that seared his arm every time he used it, a rope with a spike on the end to go on his belt, and his clawed glove. He ripped off his yellow uniform jacket revealing a black muscle shirt for showing off his strong tan arms. He smiled and flexed proudly.

He looked up and saw the last man in the truck. He grinned, ”I thought my fun was over!” He pointed the tranqs at the terrified man and shot one straight at his jugular. He fell unconscious.

“Oh yeah baby!” Spike cried out jumping into the air, like a happy school girl.

Sitting back down, Spike hears the driver,”Alright guys pulling in! I radioed ahead to see what was up and it turns out a master criminal nicknamed Hamster is after this mesh high-tech mask.”

‘Interesting...’ Spike thought to himself as they entered the garage.

They pulled to a stop in the armored vehicles designated parking spot. Spike hopped out and rushed up to the driver’s door.

“Who the hell are-” Spike drove his gloved claws into the man’s jugulars making him bleed out all over the driver’s yellow uniform.

Spike snuck through, dodging the sight of the scientists and the cameras in the garage. Spike’s been at this a while he knew his way around. He finally reached the elevator at the far end of the garage, taking a huge breath he pushed the button and waited.

After a few minutes (it’s a big building.) Spike starts to hear the elevator music he steps back and the door opens showing a man in a purple uniform, “Now… Who do you think you are?” he scratches his bald head sarcastically seeing Spike and pulls out a small handgun.

Spike leaps to the right of the way of the door just as the purple clothed man fired. Holding his bladed arm to shoulder length he shot a tranq into the criminal’s neck and he crumpled to the floor, “ I really should have kept the yellow uniform.”

He stepped into the elevator.

With the elevator moving upward he saw the chopper that was following the armored truck do the same. Also, he saw what Spike was fighting for and what he put on the blade for… The people of the United States of America milling about the streets of the city, not the Government. Not the big corrupt companies that push the smaller, no, not smaller, less important, no not that either, the less eager people out of the way shoving them down taking what is theirs, making them the smaller and less important people just to create an easier path for them even if they have to step outside the law and the code men and women of Earth live by.

Spike clenched his fists and a scowl came upon his scared face as he remembered the deeds of Louie Locke the ones that not only ruined lives, but also stole them as well. Then, they unclenched as he remembered that even through the shroud of evil that penetrates the lives of the billions of people on this planet…

Including his own… he felt the scar that was given to him by someone that Spike was close to.

* * *

“Dad???” The little boy would have had nightmares at just the thought of what his dad was doing let alone the actual act of what was happening.

After the little boy hesitated he followed the the trail of blood that is made when a dead body is being dragged along the floor.

“Don’t come down the stairs son,” The little boy stared at the stairs that were being swallowed by darkness, “What’s down here will change you forever!”

The little boy has always been afraid of his father for he knew despite what his mother and him has said he knew his father was neck deep in methamphetamine.

“Where’s Mom, Dad???” silence, “Daddy! I’m scared!” The little boy crept towards the door wondering what could possibly be down there.

His imagination soared, it could be his father’s drug dealer, a monster, a time traveler, an alien, or… no it couldn’t be. He knew his father was a bad man but that he still cared about him and his mother.

The blood… the muffled screams he heard before he walked in the door... he stared down the stairs knowing that whatever was down there would be the end of someone although he didn’t know who…

“Son! Please don’t come down here. I can’t let you see me like this,” He could hear sobbing down the stairs

“You need my help Daddy!” and without hesitation the little boy ran down the stairs, without one thought he ran down the creaking, dark, bloody stairs, “DADDY!” What the little boy saw did, in fact, change him forever…

It was in fact… no it wasn’t it couldn’t have possibly been. It was his Dad, with a blade in one hand and his mother’s head in the other. The strange thing about it was that even though the head was being held where the body dripping blood

At first, the little boy felt scared, his face paled. Then turned red with rage, then all feelings simply vanished, but that of the unquenchable thirst for justice that was in the pit of the deepest place in his heart and spread throughout his body. He was seething with it, filled with it, this force drove him into action he sprinted at his father dragging his fist behind him, using the momentum of his right shoulder, swinging, flung his fist into his father’s face the shocking force caused him to step to the left.

“Son!” His father dropped the head.

“You Psychopath!” He kicked him in the shin, although he didn’t have the previous advantage of leverage and surprise he simply stubbed his toe.

“You’ve always been a smart kid bud-” He stopped midsentence at a blow from his child, “You have to understand I did this for you! I’ve been offered a high spot in a gang and this was the initiation… You have to understand!”

The need for justice spurred and strengthened the boy into a frenzy firing blow after blow into the father’s stomach making him step back with each hit and cringe in pain after each blow.

“You- Have- To- Under- Stand!” The father pushed the boy into the wall and the hit on the wall gave him a major headache.”

“NO!” The justice burned in him even brighter, “I can’t understand Derrick!”
“It’s Dad!” Desperation grew in his voice, “Son, together we could eventually be the biggest and the baddest, the alpha and the omega!” And you know it by the time I’m old you’ll be at your peak and…” he trailed off looking at his son filled with pride and desperation.

“I can’t understand!” The boy stepped closer.

“I don’t wanna hurt you!” The father stepped back, then heard growling at the base of the stairs.

“Spike!” The boy ran to the pit bull and hugged it wrapping his arms around the dog’s neck tears streaming down his cheeks, Bring back Mommy, bring back Mommy.” He repeated this as if under a trance.

The pitbull moved protectively between the boy and the father, growling aggressively, protectively. “Sp- sp- spike?” The father knew this was a smart dog and would do almost anything to protect the boy and his mother. He knew that seeing what Derrick had done and will do anything… anything to retain vengeance.

Spike lunged. “Get em’ boy!” The need for justice fit the boy’s soul like a glove as he watched, face neutral, as Spike leapt for Derrick’s face. Derrick’s strength though was used and the dog in midair was smacked into the wall by Derrick’s forearm smashing it’s head on the wall, the dog went limp onto the pool of blood left by the mother.

“NO!” The boy ran to the Dog’s body and held it’s head as if it were as fragile as a baby’s not looking up forgetting all about what happened just how it happened. “Bring Mommy back, bring Mommy back, bring Mommy back.” Not knowing who or what he was talking to. The boy nestled up to the dog a tear rolling down his cheek gently stroking the dog’s back.

“Son…” the boy turned to see his father in position to lunge at him. “Don’t move we can work this out… together!”

The boy stood, “Step back,” he simply said.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” Derrick subconsciously stepped back waiting to see what his son would do.

The boy ran screaming, ran towards his father, arms up tears like a cape flowing to the floor behind him. “Don’t! Peter, don’t! I named you for Christ’s Sake!”
Peter jumped into the air just like the dog with the power of Justice trailing closely behind knocked Derrick to floor with his knee, both toppling over Peter on top they fell to the ground with the boy wailing away at Derricks face.

“Son…” Peter could hear the life of his father fade, but the Justice pushed him forward without regret. Peter then made a mistake instead of continuing to stun him with his continuous blows to the face he moved his hands to his throat.

Out of desperation Derrick moved his blade to Peter’s face cutting just in front of eye creating an eternal scar both inside and out. Except, Peter saw his hand moving up so he stopped it with forearm to forearm. “The past is gone Dad!” He ripped the blade out of his father’s weakened grasp and did a final shove into his father’s forehead digging it in all the way.