The Samaritan

The birth of a new kind of hero.

Never was there a more complex man.  He scowled more than he smiled, he heard more than he said.  This man had purple eyes.  Yes, purple, although shaded by his hat, they appeared black.  He wore a slight fu manchu mustache, with the beginnings of a goatee growing on his chin.  He looked old, much older than his real age, which no one really knew.  Above all else, people were afraid of him.  Everyone seemed to be afraid of him, avoiding him at all costs.

 

He had few rivals, most tended to agree with him out of fear.  Fear of what, no one really knew.  He seemed to be an angel of truth, and he knew immediately when he was being lied to.  He wore a trench coat and a fedora.  The fedora, complete with a purple band.

 

Tonight, he is walking towards a group of teenagers.  The street is rain soaked, reflecting a shimmering image of the moon off its cobblestones.  They see him coming and are mesmerized by the approaching figure.  As he grows closer, the teens become alarmed and flee.  He stands in their place, watching them run down the alley and into the street on the other side.

 

Observing him from the rear, the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders with each rhythmic breath is apparent.  Everything is calculated with this man, every movement, every breath and every blink of the eye.  Rule number one, his body always follows his head.  If he walks to the left, he turns his head to his destination before his body.  If he climbs a ladder, he first stops at the bottom and looks up.  Every step, every tilt of the head and every single move is coldly calculated.

 

He doesn't live in this world, he stalks it.  Like a lion stalks a gazelle.  Yet, this man will not chase anything.  Will not run for any reason.  Now he stands on this corner, an enigma, impossible to understand.  He hears a sound and tilts his head.  For a brief second he resembles the RCA dog.  He looks to his left and begins to cross the street.

 

Once on the other side, he pops a quarter into a newspaper dispenser and opens the door.  He removes the entire stack of papers and places them on top of the newstand.  He despises the media; hates it with a passion, and this is his way of sticking it to the local paper.  His dispassion for the news goes far beyond the local paper, right into the entire national news outlets.  He feels that the media controls the world, a world that has horribly gone wrong.

 

For this, he considers himself a "good samaritan."  He eyes a man approaching from down the street and steps into the shadows.  He watches the gentleman stroll up to the newstand and take a paper from the top of the stack.  The gentleman then continues down the street, and the good samaritan steps out of the shadows and begins to follow him.  Steadily, about thirty feet behind him.  The Good Samaritan always finds people intriguing, never missing an opportunity to observe someone.  The Samaritan is fascinated with the way the human mind works, and is eager to learn all that he can about his fellow man.  Tracking the man silently, watching him round the corner of a building.  The building was a car dealership.  He could see the Gentleman walking down the sidewalk through two panes of glass.  As soon as he could no longer see the gentleman, he began to count his breath.  Once he reached his tenth exhalation, he steps forward, looks to the right and turns his body towards the direction the Gentleman had walked.

 

He is greeted by nothing.  An empty sidewalk, and the shimmering moon bouncing off the cobblestone street.  The Samaritan inhales deeply, taking in the smell of freshly fallen rain, the smell of the late summer evening and a faint scent of CK One.  The Samaritan remembers everything, even the sample of CK One that came in his Maxim magazine six months ago.  He was tracking a metrosexual, apparently.  A cheap one at that, or else the Gentleman didn't care what his cologne smells like.  The Samaritan continues down the Walker Avenue sidewalk, when suddenly, the Gentleman jumps out of a nook with a gun in his hand.

 

"Who are you and why are you following me?"

 

The Samaritan doesn't respond, he just stairs the Gentleman down.  He notices the moon shining down, it is no doubt reflected in his own eyes.  He takes a step towards the Gentleman.

 

"I will shoot you!"

 

He stops, measuring the Gentleman up.  The Samaritan isn't frightened, in fact, he doesn't even think a bullet will hit him.  He watches the Gentleman squirm.  The Gentleman is uncomfortable, and the Samaritan knows it.  He can smell it.  Fear, rain, a summer night and CK One.  All mixed together.  The Samaritan thinks it is utterly ironic that fear smells the same as sex.  It stinks, it is revolting and it fuels him to take another step.  He is now staring down the barrel of a .44.  The Dirty Harry model, undoubtedly.

 

"C'mon man, I don't wanna do this.  This gun is loud and awfully messy."

 

The Samaritan tilts his head to the right, assessing the speed it will take to unarm this man.  In a move so quick high speed cameras would be needed to capture every detail, the following things happened;  The Samaritan moved his head to the right, used his right arm to push the barrel of the gun out of his face and punched the Gentleman in the neck with his left fist.  In less than a second, the gunman was on his knees gasping for breath and the Samaritan was holding the .44 in his hands.  The Samaritan watches the Gentleman gasp for breath.  He sees the Gentleman's newspaper laying at his feet.  He reaches down and picks it up.

 

"You dropped your paper."  The Samaritan said, offering it to the Gentleman.  "I won't give you your gun back, it is not safe with you."

 

"Who are you?"  The Gentleman pleaded.

 

"The proper question is what am I...  And for that I have no answer.  You better go home, these streets are dangerous."

 

The Gentleman forgot his paper as he scrambled to his feet and dashed down the sidewalk.  The Samaritan tucked the gun into the waist of his jeans and began down the sidewalk after the man.  He was no longer following the Gentleman, it just so happened that this was the way to the Troubadour River and the final resting place of a certain .44 hand gun.

Author's Note

This is mostly an exercise in description. It is also a summary of the beginning of a super her saga. My question is, how were the descriptions? Was it enough to take you to the location and see all of this unfold? What about the disarming of the Gentleman? Could you follow the sequence of events? All reviews welcomed (:

Reviews

[Damian Alan Gray]

The Samaritan reminds me quite a lot of "V" from V for Vendetta. A sort of anti-hero/superhero. It interests me that today's most popular superheroes tend to be the one's that are so unlike the superheroes of years past. In this post 9/11 world, we like our superheroes to be dark and mysterious, with a touch of insanity to boot. Batman and "V" immediately spring to mind as examples. They are regular people, who take on the bad guys for vigilante causes. Gone are the days of Superman-like heroes, who fought for legal justice and the supposed American Way. We want our heroes to be Robin Hoods dressed in black leather, instead of some sort of do-gooder in bright tights. My guess is it that has something to do with the fact that we have become jaded and dispirited by the world and the way it is going.

The Samaritan is a good character outline, as it gives the reader a decent foundation as to who this guy is and what he seems to be about. But, it's the environmental descriptiveness that needs some work. As it is, the story is a skeleton; good enough to help the author along in writing the story, but it needs more flesh to become a story unto itself. Try to describe the character's environment in a way that will allow the reader to feel as though he or she is actually placed in the situation, rather than simply viewing it from the sidelines. You may even go so far as to entirely revamp the story in order to tell it in the first person. I think it would be interesting to read this from the Samaritan's point of view.

You're onto something good here, Jeff. Again, I think the similarity between your protagonist and "V" may present a problem in story development, but if you can get past that then the world may have a new and exciting superhero.

[Nazarea]

I like it so far. The description is good, overall--there was only one small paragraph that I didn't feel meshed well (The high-powered camera paragraph).
I'm really interested in seeing where the character goes, and how his story unfolds. Good job.


N~

[Michael Carr]

the character isn't bad. a bit lacking as he's not much seperates him from any other bad hero, but despite being somewhat generic, you pull of the character with great finesse. the descriptions of the enviornment could use some work, a tad flat at times, but the story, the dialogue, and acharacters are all top notch. well done man.

[Prophet224]

First, I liked it, I do get the dark hero, and I like that he's not quite sure about himself, though he's plenty sure OF himself.

"The fedora, complete with a purple band." - Minor issue. The short, clipped sentences work through most of the story, but I don't think that this quite works. I'd consider "...fedora; the fedora complete with a purple band" or something similar.

You make mention of "Rule number one, his body always follows his head." With this person, and the way you've described him, I think that any mention of rules must be calculated as well. That is, if you mention "Rule number one" with him, then he should be doing this (body follows head) intentionally. Additionally, we should probably see mention of other rules that he adhers to. It would be an interesting common thread throughout the writing. If he's not intentionally following these 'rules', I might consider removing the mention of it.

I also feel that the mention of the RCA dog placed a solid picture firmly in my mind.

A few comments on the fight scene:
- I like the mention of high speed cameras; I feel that works very well.
- I also feel that the "following things happened" is a bit weak. Maybe just leave it with "...to capture every detail, he struck." Then go on to the next sentence.
- Most people are right-handed, so unless you explicitly state it, the reader will probably imagine the gun in the Gentleman's right hand. This makes it difficult for the scene to work. If the gun is in the right hand, the Samaritan has to cross arms to attack. For the scene to work, the gun almost has to be in the left hand. That way you get a very quick, smooth, fluid movement of brushing the arm out of the way, grasping the gunman's arm/forearm, twisting the body (also serving to get out of the line of fire) and striking the Gentleman's neck. If you want it in the left, I'd state that, or switch the hero's arms. You could certainly add more description here, but that depends on whether you want the feeling of 'bullet time' (while the reader reads something that takes but a moment in real life) or 'real time'.

[Mark D. Chevalier]

I enjoyed the way you brought the tension and atmosphere into the story. And there is also a mix of poetry in this story: "The Gentleman is uncomfortable, and the Samaritan knows it. He can smell it. Fear, rain, a summer night and CK One. All mixed together. The Samaritan thinks it is utterly ironic that fear smells the same as sex." I particularly liked that one.
Very nicely thought out and executed. And you know I gotta love a guy in a fedora. lol
M

[HoorayForUnderdog]

Hi Jeff...I think this is a good jumping off point to a super-hero story...what I like about super-hero stories is that they are always so quirky and sometimes kind of funny even if the heros are dark and mysterious. I like how the good samaritan always moves his head before he veers off into a new direction...for some reason that cracks me up and I can just picture it in my head...actually I am considering adopting this habit myself! I am intrigued by the purple eyes and I am wondering what exactly happened to him to make him become a superhero...was he exposed to toxic fumes? is he from another planet? And what is his ultimate goal ? Does he want to keep everyone safe? Will he go after the powerful media and city rulers that try to control the populace? I find myself wondering what his super-hero lair will look like...I am looking forward to more installments of this series!

[cyanskye]

Very nicely done, I got a real feel for the dark night and the street; I think some street sounds or lack there of (I always forget envionrmental sound so am looking for that right now) Maybe a little more description of the man, how tall, build, worked in here and there.
The fight scene where the man disarms the Getleman felt a little choppy. Maybe skip "the following things happened" and let the action flow through the main character.
All that being said, I love the story and the idea of such a mysterious guy. Can't wait to read more.

[Dizzy-Izzy]

"He doesn't live in this world, he stalks it. Like a lion stalks a gazelle. Yet, this man will not chase anything. Will not run for any reason. Now he stands on this corner, an enigma, impossible to understand. He hears a sound and tilts his head. For a brief second he resembles the RCA dog."

I love this part. You asked about the descriptions, and this really does it for me. I love the word enigma, a puzzle, something or someone you can't quite figure out.

The way he tilts his head to listen to some faint sound, a sound that, presumably, no one else hears. I can see the man, with his fedora and a contemplative look on his face. That would certainly be an indicator of a super hero for me. Most people walk through life with blank looks on their faces... ever notice that?

The way you describe "The Gentleman" as a metrosexual complete with cheap cologne, and a "Dirty Harry .44,"... compensating for something he is lacking no doubt. I'm talking about his character (get your mind out of the gutter)... some insecurity that is assuaged by feeling of power (however false)...that he gets from carrying a ridiculously large gun.

The Good Samaritan could be part of the Justice League.

"The proper question is what am I... And for that I have no answer."

Our hero is on another plane, yet he is not completely self-assured... I want that in a hero, some humanity I mean. Always knowing what is right, always doing what is right while still a little unsure of the purpose of it all, and the part he is to play in the universe.

[Becca]

You know what this did to me the first time I read it! In order to do that to a reader says volumes!
I want to read more and need to get accustomed to your story writing style.
The story does have the makings of something spectacular depending on where you take it.
The only problem I have is the short choppy sentences but if it is the way the character speaks ..so be it.
You are off to a great start..keep it up!

[Ralphy]

This was great Jeff, absolutely. If I would comment on detail I would ont he starchiness of his face, does it change with his head movement? The disarmament was great, and describing his speed in contrast with a high �speed camera , to see his motion gave more detail than I was expecting.

The description for his hatred of the media was fantastic, how he took all the papers out and placed them on the top to screw with the local paper company.

But the ending his destination was the river and the reason was a resting place for a .44 magnum handgun, now that was cleaver and quite witty.