Skypunch (The Skypunch Chronicles Book 1)

by Logan Castle

  The formerly mute crowd sprang into action with thunderous applause and jeers, their fists rising into the air collectively. My head was spinning. I couldn’t even begin to digest all the information I was hearing. In response, I could only manage three words in a meek and shaky voice. “Who? Who are you?”

  Finally, the sea of people before me parted and I watched a lone figure walking right through the middle of them. I strained my eyes, looking squarely at the form approaching me. However, once he came into view, I immediately felt like my stomach dropped onto the floor.

  Walking directly toward me was a heavily garbed figure. A rifle was hanging from his shoulder and he brandished a long, jagged blade in his left hand. As unsettling as those weapons were, his face was the single factor that filled me with fear.

  That’s because he had no face to look upon, only the black cowl of the Executioner.

  He climbed the platform on which I was kneeling by way of a creaky, wooden ladder and stopped just feet from me.

  “I am no one,” he said, gesturing to himself. Then he turned and faced the crowd. “Who are we, you ask?” He turned back to me and shuffled his feet forward, closing the remaining space between us. From beneath the slits of his mask, I could distinctly see two bloodshot eyes. “We are the last voices of a once beautiful world, now doomed to a slow and torturous end at the hands of a madman. And…”

  I doubled over when a fist I never saw coming struck me directly in the midsection. The air burst from my lungs and stars appeared in my vision. I was still gasping for air when a gloved hand grabbed me by the neck, halting my ability to breathe any longer. The tightness in my chest became completely unbearable as my head was brought back until it was inches from his. His breath, smelling much worse than the sewage air, blasted me in the face as he whispered.

  “We are Vengeance.”

  Chapter 10

  I had never been in a fight before. Well, not a real one, at any rate. Sure, I’d come close to it on a few occasions in high school, maybe even once or twice after that. But those all ended the same way they started: with a lot of expletives and a two-handed shove simply for posterity’s sake. The only “altercations” I’d ever been involved in were of the bullying variety back in grade school. I was an outcast with my heavy metal music and punk attire, a perfect target for torment from my classmates. It usually came from the brutes of the football squad, but to be fair, it was next to impossible to identify a mob of jeering kids. More often than not, I was successful in that I escaped the circle with only a few bruises to show for it. Other times, however, I wasn’t so lucky and had to crawl my way out as blows rained down on me from all angles. Point is that I had some experience in taking a punch. I wasn’t sure if that “experience” was helping me absorb the punches from the masked man in front of me but it comforted me to think so.

  After the first gut-wrenching blow to my stomach, I tried to plead with my attacker to stop, insisting that I wasn’t whom he thought I was but to absolutely no avail. My cries only further fueled his desire to see me in a bloody pile at his feet. As for the crowd, they loved every moment of it as well. With every blow that hit its mark, the crowd erupted into a cheer that rose in decibels each time. My cries were all but drowned out by the boisterous masses.

  To shield myself from as much damage as possible, I curled up into a fetal position, holding my knees to my chest as tightly as I could despite the bonds that still secured me. Between the strikes, I caught glimpses of the faces in the crowd and was taken aback at the unbridled glee and hatred I saw on them. It was the children that affected me the most. Their small, angelic features contorted with negative emotions that no child should ever feel or exhibit.

  I recalled the man I encountered; my doppelganger. Within the blink of an eye, he’d sent me spiraling through time and space until I ended up here. And suddenly, the words he said to me, while cryptic and nonsensical at the time, suddenly began to make sense.

  This was his world and I was being held captive in it.

  His deeds remained a mystery to me and on such a scale that they had to be what was orchestrating everything that now unfolded. These people, so dirty and haggard, were residing inside a sewer. Was there nowhere else for them to go? Their anger and vitriol were so intense and deeply-seeded that it provided the fortitude required to watch the person they believed responsible get beaten to death right in front of them! I had to figure out a way to make them understand. If only I could make them see that I wasn’t the person they thought I was.

  But how?!

  How could I convince them that the true object of their ire now resided in another world, another reality…shit, in another life altogether? I seemed to be asking the impossible.

  I didn’t even fucking believe it!

  And if I of all people, didn’t believe it, then how the hell could I tell these people that they were wrong as well? Besides, it certainly didn’t appear as if they intended to allow me that opportunity. I had the feeling that this was not going to end happily.

  The blows suddenly ceased and I remained on the cold concrete floor, unmoving. I doubted if I could move even if I wanted to. The bindings still held me, but I was positive that I could add at least one broken rib into the mix. Along with my lacerated forearms, I was in bad shape.

  “Pull him up,” the man behind the mask commanded. He, too, was fatigued from the long beating he inflicted on me.

  Multiple hands grabbed me from underneath my arms and lifted me back onto my knees. That effort alone wracked my entire body, rendering me into a quivering puddle of Jell-O. Even after they had propped me back onto my knees, I was still dizzy and out of breath so I nearly toppled over again. Hands reached out to me, steadying me from doing so. I tried to take a deep breath and cried out in sheer agony. Yes, I most definitely had a broken rib…or possibly, four. I spat blood onto the concrete floor. Everything inside me hurt.

  “Apologies, ‘Supreme Leader’,” the man said sarcastically. “I might have gotten a little carried away back there but let’s be honest, you deserve so much worse. Sadly, we can only inflict a limited amount of pain on you. After all the suffering you imposed on us, we would be well within our rights to insist that you suffer a gradual and gruesome death. But,” he added, dryly, “we aren’t sadists. Not like you.”

  I looked up at him and my eyes began swelling shut. I could feel warm blood dripping from my nose and my lips felt as fat as balloons. Somehow, I managed to form words through the whole mess. “Th-th-this isn’t right. I’m t-t-telling you. You have the wr-wr-wrong guy!”

  Stars instantly exploded in my periphery before my vision went completely dark. I didn’t even know I’d hit the concrete until I found myself lying there when I came back to consciousness only moments later. A vicious left hook slammed into the right side of my face, shutting me up and hammering me to the floor. No hands rushed to pick me up this time. I turned my face from the hard concrete to look up at the masked man standing over me.

  “I’m tired of hearing your foul mouth. You insult all of us! Continue to play this game and we will make this so much worse for you,” the man cautioned me. He waved the jagged, weather-beaten blade in a most threatening manner.

  “You? You intend to torture me?! But you s-s-said you w-w-weren’t sadists!” I seethed back, blood spraying out of my mouth with every syllable.

  The masked man’s head flew back and a roar of harsh laughter bellowed into the air. As if in direct support of him, I heard more scattered snickers from the crowd as well and I turned my head to glare at all of them. Their twisted, scowling faces frowned back at me with a ferocity that I could never hope to match. Despite my efforts to return the expression, my face felt like it was being scorched under the extreme amount of hatred they reflected at me.

  And all the while, the masked man continued to laugh gleefully. I watched, waiting patiently as it went on for a lot longer than it certainly should have. It was more than obvious that he was doing it
on purpose. He was toying with me. Finally, he stopped and very deliberately adjusted the mask over his face before speaking again.

  “Ahhhh… now that was a fucking good one! Nearly busted my sides open!” he said, waving a gloved finger at me. “But really, let’s be honest with each other. You must realize that after all the pain and death you caused for us, there’s no goddamn way you’re walking out of here alive!”

  My head was an absolute quagmire of thoughts and my body felt like a pretzel. The man’s ominous words echoed through me until there wasn’t a sliver of doubt that he meant every word. He was itching to beat me to death and this crowd would happily sit back and watch him do it.

  Hell, they’ll probably join in! I was certain there were plenty of others in this bloodthirsty crowd who would have been unsatisfied with their role as the audience and start taking their own shots at me. I was living on borrowed time. Unless I came up with something, anything to convince them that I wasn’t the person they wanted. No matter how impossible it seemed, that was exactly how this would pan out. Short of the damned tattoos on my forearms magically coming to life and spiriting me from this place, I was clean out of options. My mind was grasping at straws but I continued to pull the short stick. I was beyond desperate. I could feel the trickles of sweat (or maybe it was blood?) falling from my forehead when the masked man began to step menacingly towards me once again.

  Then, like a shot slashing through impenetrable darkness, an idea struck me. In no time at all, it anchored itself firmly inside my brain. I knew it was my only alternative. I looked up into the face of the masked man as he towered over me and managed to find my voice just as it looked like he would strike me again.

  “I… I want a t-t-trial,” I stuttered. It was a longshot, sure, but there was absolutely nothing else that I could come up with on such short notice. My only intent was to seek the compassion and sympathy of him and the crowd. Even if the masked man held steadfast in his current position, perhaps my appeal could resonate with someone in the crowd who would appeal on my behalf. My fondest wish was that I would be given an opportunity to explain everything that had happened to me.

  A hard kick into my side ignited a fire that shot up my spine and gave me the answer.

  “Holy shit. Say that again. Please. I want everyone to hear this,” the man giggled with strange delight.

  Gasping desperately for air from the sheer force of the kick, I tried, unsuccessfully, to speak again. Another swift kick to my side did not help.

  “Say it again!”

  I mustered whatever breath I had left in me and yelled one word out. “TRIAL!”

  Booming laughter from the crowd. This time, he spoke as he laughed aloud, “You hear that, everyone? Our Supreme Leader wants a trial! This man who in his arrogance and madness, brutally executed thousands without anything resembling a trial is now asking us for one!”

  I gnashed my teeth. “You s-s-said you weren’t sadists. If that… is true, then I deserve a fair… trial.”

  A flurry of kicks landed on my side and then on top of my head. “You don’t deserve shit! Do you understand me?! You don’t deserve a goddamn thing!!”

  Another volley of kicks hammered into me and my consciousness began to wane. The residual air I had left in my diaphragm was sucked out with every blow that hit its mark. My futile plea for a trial had only managed to anger the masked man even further. Contrary to my original assessment, the crowd seemed even more eager to let it play out according to his wishes. Growing numb from the constant and unadulterated pain that surged through my body, a morbid disappointment filled my brain. I was going to die, getting beaten to death by an incensed man for unspecified crimes that were committed by an evil doppelganger, a lesser version of myself. Nothing I could say, even if I still had the breath to speak, could change that.

  The sickening sounds of his boot repeatedly slamming into my ribs was suddenly interrupted by a voice.

  “Stop it. Now!”

  It was a woman’s voice and one that was strong and full of conviction. Caught by surprise at the command, the masked man ceased his feverish assault. After I mustered the courage to look up, I began searching wildly for the owner of the voice.

  Stepping from the crowd, I spotted a mess of dirty, blond hair and green eyes. Even though I was curled up into a ball on the floor and looking down at her, I could tell she was tall. Her head towered over the surrounding heads and shoulders. Her face was long and peppered by freckles that were clearly visible even from this distance. Her thin lips were a beautiful shade of red that matched perfectly with the shirt she wore. Loose-fitting though it was, the shirt revealed a thin, yet buxom figure that became ever more visible as she skillfully maneuvered through the crowd while making her way up to the platform and us. As she drew closer, I noticed the long, black rifle she had slung over her right shoulder and a small silver revolver that was strapped to the outer side of her right thigh. Her black pants were tight and smudged. Once she reached us, she glared down at me, holding my gaze with a glower of loathing plainly broadcast across her girl-next-door-like features.

  As I gazed back into her eyes, I saw something else reflected in them. It was hard to describe at first but as she continued to stare into my swollen eyes, I got a better feel for what it could be. Concern? Or was it pity? She must have felt uncomfortable at my probing stare because she ripped her eyes from mine and looked squarely at the man towering over me.

  “Stop it, Larry. Enough,” she said, again with the same burning intensity as before. She paused just a couple feet short from where I was lying.

  “Lynn?! This coming from you?!” The masked man’s tone of disbelief was laced with rage. “Of all people, you deserve to see him suffer!”

  “He’s right, Larry. We aren’t sadists and we can’t end up acting like him. Regardless of all the shit he caused, we can’t become the hellish brute that he is.”

  I was stunned. In the face of all these people who were demanding my slow death, here stood a woman so bold and strong in her convictions for me, an absolute stranger! I could tell Larry and the rest of the crowd were shocked because it became so quiet that you could have heard a feather drop.

  Unfazed by the silence, she continued. “He wants a trial. I say, we give him one. Even if its only purpose is so that we don’t follow the same dark path that he did.”

  A chorus of boos and less than pleasant protests blared from the crowd, clearly in opposition to her suggestion. She continued to stand there, ignoring their response and indifferent to their position. I didn’t have the slightest idea who this woman was, but she was a knight in shining armor for me. But without her, I was certain I would have been quickly dispatched as no more than a plate of chopped liver. My faith lay in a complete stranger, which was probably unreasonable since I had no idea how convinced she was to give me a trial but I was fresh out of options.

  The masked man would have none of it, however.

  “Dammit, Lynn. Enough of this. This man doesn’t deserve yours or anyone else’s sympathy. Go back down there and shut your mouth.” Loud voices from the crowd rose in support of the masked man. Their discontent was rampant despite the interruption in the proceedings.

  Still, Lynn stood her ground. I caught the slightest tremble in her arms but I felt certain it wasn’t from fear. A smoldering fire illuminated those blue eyes as the masked man’s words had clearly affected her. She was angry. If it weren’t made completely obvious then, the spite-filled words that emerged from her mouth sealed the deal.

  “Fuck YOU, Larry! YOU don’t get to speak to ME like that! No one appointed you our fearless leader and spokesperson! You certainly haven’t earned the title simply because of your flair for dramatics! You parade around in some stupid-looking hat and talk like a tough guy. I’m not scared of you and I have every right to express my opinion. Someone here needs to be the voice of reason since it’s clearly not coming from you…” She trailed off for a second, eyeing the man with a cont
entious smirk on her face before adding, “Larry.” She said the man’s name with a snicker.

  Stifling a pained giggle, I pleaded silently she would keep it up. Even though his features were hidden by the cowl he wore, I knew Larry must have been bristling underneath it. I could hear his ragged breathing. However, I wasn’t sure if it were caused by all the exertion from the beating he’d given me, or just because of her words. It comforted me more to believe the latter.

  Lynn nearly fell backwards as Larry suddenly turned on her. He took a threatening step in her direction, his voice wavering with outrage and fury as he spoke. “Stop saying my name, you dumb whore! You know better than anyone what he can do! I’m wearing this mask so that he doesn’t know me or my name!”

  “What fucking difference does it make now?!” she retorted, steadying herself. “He’s been captured, bound and now beaten within an inch of his life! He’s no longer any threat to you!”

  “I said, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Larry bellowed over her. “You don’t fucking get it, do you?! He is a fucking threat! For every goddamn second he breathes and as long as he’s alive! He can do things…terrible things. We’ve all seen them.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not going to stand here and argue the rights of this scumbag to live one more fucking second longer than he damn well deserves to!”

  Cheers from the crowd filled the tense air. Still, Lynn held her ground. The pain that incapacitated me was becoming slightly more manageable now that I wasn’t being beaten ceaselessly. I could not move or stand yet, not without suffering from sheer agony before blacking out. But I so desperately wanted to stand beside her. Her commitment and strength of purpose without regards to me was admirable.

  Lynn waited for the crowd’s cheering to die down before she spoke again. When she did, it was in a muted voice, but she was just as serious.