Injustice
Chapter 1.
Everywhere I look, I see red. Blood is red as it splashes my knuckles, spraying smaller drops across my arm - it tastes red; smells red. Baldo's hair is red, as I grab a fistful of it and pull, hearing him scream in a high-pitched way; like a dying animal. Rage is red as it fills my vision, burning inside me as I twist his arm, and his shoulder, and his neck. A blush is red, rising to Skull's cheeks as he yells when flying droplets of the remains of Coach Baldo's nose pepper his shoes. I am red. I am the Red Ranger, sworn to protect human life and yet unable to stop myself from taking it.
Although a part of me is sick thinking about how easily my teacher's face crumbled, I feel no remorse. To the contrary, I feel satisfied in a way that is indescribable. The knowledge that I can do this to a man is as exhilarating as it is terrifying; the knowledge that I had to is what sobers me.
My stomach empties itself as the weight of the situation hits me. I can still see it in my mind: Skull, his head pulled back as Baldo yanked on his hair, holding onto the railing for whatever support it could give him as the much larger, older man moved against him. I can hear his whimpering. It plays through my head on loop, turning my insides into a million different knots. I'm trying to make it stop, but it just doesn't leave me. When my head has cleared, I manage to look at Skull for the first time since I charged his attacker. He's pulled his pants back up, but his bandana is nowhere to be found. His belt is lying on the ground near a pool of blood. I reach out, to comfort him. His hair is slick with sweat as I pet it. His face is blank; his eyes empty. He's staring at Baldo, but I don't think he actually sees him.
Since freshman year, Eugene Skullovitch has been the least aggressive of a pair of leather clad punks who enjoy tormenting me and my friends. Although there's always a part of me that's happy when their bullying backfires spectacularly, there's also the part of me that fears for his well-being whenever a monster steps out from the shadows of the moon. He is a child, if nothing else. I'm supposed to protect children.
"You okay?" I ask.
He pulls his gaze from Baldo to me only to quickly find the corner of the floor. He can't look at me. In fact, he shuffles away from me, drawing his knees up to his chin. Is he afraid? I don't have time to ponder this. The distant wail of a siren pierces the silence. We both look around, instinctively knowing that the police are coming for me but not knowing who called them. When our eyes reconnect, Skull doesn't look away this time.
"Please. Bulk can't know," he whispers.
I'm confused. Skull scrambles to his feet, not bothering to explain before his flight.