A barrage of punches shot out at lightning speeds. Once the chalk dust cleared from the room, a figure became clear. The figure could not have been older than sixteen, a young man, who seemed frustrated with every breath. Every hit landed on a punching bag with an explosive impact, clearly used for training.
Following the barrage– a kick. The sound of his leg hitting the punching bag echoed through the room. The air seemed to shift by the sheer impact of the kick. Yet once the chalk dust had passed, there hadn't been a single dent in the punching bag.
Frustrated, the man took a deep breath. His arms transformed, turning into an assortment of firearms. His hair turned into bullets of various calibers made exactly for the guns he had created. At that moment, he shot all the bullets, trying his best to destroy, or even at least dent the punching bag.
The room was filled with smoke, the man’s arms had changed back, scarred and sore. However, once the smoke had finally cleared, the punching bag had remained exactly where it was.
Nothing.
Not a dent, not even a slight curve. It looked completely untouched.
All the anger had finally settled. The man charged one last punch until–
“Khale.”
At the door stood a dark skinned man. He seemed very skinny, weak even, yet his face and body structure said otherwise.
“Mike.” Khale said, as if he were annoyed. “What is it? More trouble?”
“Seems like it.” Mike handed Khale an envelope. “I suggest you take this one. The bills don't pay themselves.”
The dojo was barely running, its lights flickered and a backup generator had to be used. Khale sighed. Mike was right, he had to take this job.
He picked up his shirt, it was merchandise for the company he worked for. “I'll be back.”
Khale looked towards a board on the wall. A bunch of newspaper articles and calculations, all pointing to a piece of paper that read “The curse”.
“Hopefully soon.”
-----------------------
Water echoed through the silent backstreet splashing into a murky puddle with oil and rust.
Khale wandered onward. He had been here before, more than once actually. The narrow backstreet was littered with soggy cardboard, crushed cans and foul-smelling discarded tissue. Then– something came into view. A group of police officers surrounding a block, tapes cordoning around it.
He walked up to them– rather calmly with his hands in his pocket, engrossed in an earlier thought and newfound determination.
“There you are,” said an officer in the crowd. He wore a suit different from the other officers, a different department. “I was beginning to think you’d never show up. Though, it would've been nicer if Azure sent someone else.”
“Just tell me the situation. And what I gotta do about it.” Khale said bluntly.
The officer explained it, it was another abnormal case, people started disappearing and being found dead all over the alleyways. For once, it hadn't been the gangs that were in charge of this, they happened to be found dead as well.
“And that’s why they asked us to come along. I was the one who initially called for a special officer of Azure, but it seems I ended up with… a rather difficult one to work with.”
Khale paid no mind to any of the officer’s slander. He was worried about something else. Something far bigger and important.
“Welp. Get on with it.” The officer turned.
“I know why most of these incidents are happening. It may be tied to The Curse.” Khale pulled his hands from his pockets, trying to take a more serious approach.
The officer looked back at Khale. He spoke with a rather annoyed tone, as if this conversation had happened before.
“How do you think this anomaly is tied to the Curse?”
Khale shrugged sarcastically.
Then he scoffed. “How?” Khale was pissed off by such an outrageous question. “Have you seen what has happened when the Curse started?”
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The officer replied sternly, “I'm not here just to listen to your idiotic conspiracies.”
The Officer looked away.
Khale's hand balled into a fist.
“Conspiracy? People are going missing—even dead by now and you're calling this a conspiracy?!” Khale roared, the officer didn't even try to take him seriously, it was getting on Khale’s nerves.
“Do you even care about this city?!”
Khale swung his fist in a blur– but stopped himself. His fist only an inch away from crushing the officer's nose.
The officer's face remained stone cold.
“Unbelievable.” Khale scoffed. He put his hands in his pocket, and kicked a nearby soda can on the floor. He was tasked to find this anomaly and subdue it. Easier said than done. The officer didn't even try to hear him out, the curse was rising, it had been for a few years and yet, no one believes him, even to this day.
“I’ll show them.” Khale muttered to himself.
He just had to solve the curse by himself. Then they will all see that they were blind.
—--------------———-----
The sound of voices faded, it was the same empty backstreet–the same rotten scent, the same scattered litter. The narrow alleyway seemed endless, stretching farther than he could see.
CLANG!
A rusted metal pipe snapped loose and crashed onto the stone pavement. Khale continued walking, unfazed.
In his hands were documents. He shuffled them around until he got to a paper. “ ‘Warning’, huh?” He thought as he read a potential name for the anomaly. Apparently, it left streetlights flickering and various different “warnings”.
He spots a few police officers nearby, having a conversation. Khale closed his eyes, taking in the sounds nearby. The sound of the conversation feels muffled, he kept searching for a sound that would benefit him.
Just then, the sound of glass breaking echoed through his ears. Khale dropped the papers and ran after them. The officers did not seem to hear it, they watched as he ran.
He came to a halt at a four-way intersection.
The place was empty, there was no way there would be a sound like that. It was the best clue he had. He kept searching, there must be something that could've happened here. “Damn.” Khale said, scratching the back of his head.
Then, something caught the corner of his eye. A few meters away there was a pack of glass bottles. They were broken.
Upon closer inspection, blood was dripping from it, as if someone had hit a part of their body there.
Suddenly, the sound of glass breaking rang again, this time, way louder as if someone broke a window.
It was nearby.
The sound came from the darkest of the other three routes. Light was cut off from the entrance of the path, and anything beyond twenty meters became pitch-black.
But that didn't make sense, what was in front wasn't a tunnel nor was it covered by the shadows of buildings. Khale took a deep breath, then walked into the darkness. As he walked deeper, the place began to turn darker until the day sky seemed to turn night. The sound of Khale’s footsteps faded, whatever was up with this area was affecting his hearing. Suddenly, a street light flickered. It was an odd placement for a street lamp.
It was a warning.
Khale continued to walk, thirty seconds, then one minute. Keeping track of time was nearly useless, what Khale had to keep track of is where he was going. His leg felt a rock, a similar rock he had passed 15 seconds ago.
‘A full circle.’ Khale muttered. The street lamp flickered again, as if to mock him.
There was nothing here, he needed to escape.
Khale spun towards the opposite direction, he walked quickly but did not run. His footsteps were still muffled and the darkness felt like he had his eyes closed.
Then, Khale ran into a wall.
This was good, a wall meant he could break through. During his training, Khale had to break many walls, the compensation would be paid by Azure later. Khale punched the wall with all his force, but the wall did not budge. In fact, his body seemed to electrocute without the use of any electricity.
This was no ordinary wall, Khale realised that he did not recognize the texture either.
He had to find another way out.
He lifted his arms, searching blindly for any other wall, something he could use to escape.
Eventually, his hands felt something. Bricks. A brick wall. Khale punched the wall with enough force, and broke through.
On the opposite side was an abandoned office building.
The darkness from the hole came through like fog.
Before it was too late, Khale punched through the wall opposite and found himself back in the alleyway.
Khale let out a sigh of relief, he could see and hear normally again.
Then, Khale heard another sound. Glass breaking. It was coming from the four way intersection.
He wasted no time and sprinted after the noise.
Once in the four way intersection, he noticed that the glass bottles had moved, and more noise was coming nearby.
Khale instinctively ran after it. The sound came from a tunnel where an iconic blue haired boy lay as a man was about to shank him.
Khale’s arm shifted.
A shot landed on the man’s arm, he made a screeching sound that made Khale realize something.
“Mister Volvana,” Khale said firmly. “Stay put, I am your ally.”
He walked into the tunnel.
Then, Khale’s arm warped again, his skin turned into metal and the fingers warped into the shape of a barrel. It turned into a shotgun.
“That person is not human anymore.” He aimed at the man, shuddering slightly before continuing. “That is a monster.”