Chapter two: Flashback - to back
When Bone was freed from a case of the mad giggles, she sighed and continued her story.
"Now, interestingly enough, the kid stuck around in my thoughts for quite a while, and eluded my ADD for a couple weeks. The more and more I thought about him, the stranger the situation became. First and foremost, the boy's appearance was unlike the girl he had with him, though I found out later they were related. Cousins, in fact. They were both black, but while she was definitely of the African American variety, he was just plain black. And I mean BLACK. Paint black. Obsidian. Inky black. Ya'know, stuff like that. He didn't exactly have the same characteristics of the modern black youth, anyhow. He had a streamlined face and body, and didn't carry himself in any gangsta' fashion the kids were so into. When he was facing my boys, he was thrust forward and almost hunched, like an animal. Every muscle was tensed, ready to spring. He bared his teeth, and I coulda sworn I saw fangs too, but that could have been just my imagination. It was obvious the kid had gotten into fights habitually. The scratch my gravedigger had swelled and turned red, it burned like, and I quote, "A Muthafucka." And here's the kicker, the most prevailing feature was his hair, it was completely bone white. It wasn't bleached, it was white. Trust me, I can tell the difference." Bone tossed her purple tresses and smirked.
While Bone had been talking, Rommel brought up files for many of the meta humans that came from kings row, heroes and villains, and normal folks as well. Multitasked with typing all she said, it was an impressive feat, but then he'd had practice.
Bone put on a thoughtful face and again traveled into the past. "I saw him several more times during the next couple of weeks. I think he must have walked past our alley on the way home from school, with that girl of his. He'd just glare our way, and the girl would hide behind him. I'd wave, and he'd flick us off. I decided I liked this one. Be that as it may, he otherwise avoided us until summer came upon us. I was in the back of the alley, handling…" The Bone Matriarch rolled her eyes. Rommel knew of her drug deals, but said nothing. "…Business. It was booming, by the way. Rage was all the rage!"
She paused a bit just to notice everyone trying their best to ignore the pun. "The only reason I knew something was up was the racket my boys were making. Seems the little bastard was back, and jumped off something or other right on top of 'em. He bruised the guy a bit, but then ran like hell before the rest of the Diggers could mob him. They chased him for a couple blocks, they were gone for a good ten minutes. The one he had ambushed sat on a garbage can and nursed his scratches and bruises. It was impressive one so young could hurt him. Even more impressive was the fact that while I watched my boy Eddie lick his wounds and mutter obscenities, he was soon back on the ground with a Louisville slugger upside his head. The 'lil demon shot towards me without pause and tried his luck again. I suppose he thought alone, I'd have less morale or something, I dunno. His ride down the hill was in a full garbage can this time. Oh, and he DID hit a car. He still never even touched me."
"This actually repeated over and over until each one of my boys had a little run in with the kid. Some gave him a run for his money, the others got blindsided. The Death Heads did a lot better, of course, they had been in action for a long time, and had enough pain tolerance to strike back much more quickly. Pretty soon, the only one who hadn't been scratched a bit was me. Every time he showed up in the alley, he took a ride down the hill. The kids of Kings Row and even some of the adults got into it, too. I hear there were even bets going on how many times he'd survive. But he always did. Sometimes he'd be back the next day, when normal teens would be in bed for weeks. I had my own theories why. A full year after he started his rampage, he walked directly into our alley, and most of the guys were just too stunned to act. Gravedigger Eddie, however, (by the way, I really should promote him one of these days,) went for him on sight. He flying tackled the little brat and held him down. The rest of the gang grabbed sledges, bats, their pistols, what have you, and advanced, fully intent on ending the odd threat. The kid however, just yelled " I wanna talk to her! Let me go!" Eddie grunted, and the kid convulsed under his grasp, but he didn't let up. I however, was not to let such a nasty little bugger chock full of chaotic potential go to waste. I whistled, and Eddie steadily, though painfully grabbed him and pushed him towards me. Obedience I accept, but guts was a trait that was even more desirable. I'd listen to him, THEN pummel him. Eddie's clothes were ripped and holes ravaged his jacket. He was bleeding in several areas, but he ignored the pain and sat down, glaring at the kid with angry eyes. Possibly even jealousy."
Rommel had pictures of every major player in this story projected on the wall so far, the Bone Matiarch herself, the Gravedigger Eddie, and a shot of a dark splotch a camera picked up from the subject of her story. Bone fleetingly wondered if he'd make a PowerPoint presentation with all these little pictures, facts and graphs, shrugged, and continued her story.
"The kid was scrapper, there was no doubt about it. He had natural ability, but I couldn't decide if he was naïve, or just stupid to pull a stunt like this. Either or, his request surprised even me. He looked me right in the eyes and said, "I want you to teach me how to fight." The boys had a nice chuckle at that, and I only wondered why he thought I wouldn't just cream him right then and there. I said, "And why would I even begin to, remotely, possibly, maybe, perhaps, consider to do that?" He looked around, now getting nervous at his predicament, and stated to the best of his ability (which wasn't much at that point), "Y-y-you said you would…I want lessons." I flashed back to the first day when I whispered in his ear as a tease and a joke, and he waited for an answer. The rest of the skulls waited for the command to tear him apart. I punched him in the face and threw him against the wall, and darkness began to form around my fists. My next barrage of punches were barely traceable, though they left a noticeable impact, and he was soon back in a garbage can, barreling down the road. This time, however, I kept speed. I caused quite a bit of damage jumping from one parked car to another, and just was able to stop the can with a well placed foot before it ran onto the freeway. I dragged him out of the can and grabbed him by his shirt, he groaned and I answered with, "Lesson one. Be ready. Seeya tomorra, slick."