/-/ Murphy /-/

Did you know that if you take the number 41, and add first 2, then 4, then 6, to obtain the sequence 41, 43, 47, 53, etcetera, that the first 40 numbers are all primes? And no other similar series of that length exists? That was always a huge deal to me when I was younger, long before all of this. That stuff was what my parents wanted me to know, which is why I was homeschooled for so long. And that was all they wanted me to know, as a matter of fact. They wanted me to grow up smart and healthy, like every parent in the world did for their kid.

...But, that never stopped me from getting into trouble. Like a lot of trouble.

"Open the register, damn it!" One of the robbers barked at the brunette behind the counter. And I don't just say he barked because he was a dog Faunus, I meant it in the sense that he was shouting at her, like, a lot. I liked that corner store, and I sure didn't like seeing the beautiful lady behind the counter getting a gun shoved in her face. It was a good thing they weren't very good at the whole mugging scene because none of the three punks were watching the door. I strolled right in.

I walked alongside one of the aisles of snacks and stuff, coming up on the end where one of the robbers was. He was aiming his pistol around with his arms fully outstretched coming out the end of the aisle, which gave me an excellent opportunity. I went quickly around the corner, swinging my arm down hard on his arms, and he dropped his gun which I was quick to kick away. He tried to hit me with a broad haymaker with his left arm, which I quite easily caught, giving him a knee to the stomach in return. I'll be honest; I felt kind of like a beast when I decked him in the head, knocking him to the floor. It's just too bad I made too much noise taking that guy down, one of the robbers turning to face me, brandishing his baseball bat.

He charged at me, swinging wide with his bat. I'm not stupid, so I sidestepped it instead of trying to block it, the baseball bat crushing some chip bags on the shelf. I kicked him hard in the back of the knee, which brought him down on one knee like he was proposing to the Pringles on the shelf. I gave him a hard elbow hitting him on the top of his head, which seemed to be good enough to daze him. I grabbed his bat, slugging him in the head with it to knock him out.

"Hey!" The last guy shouted at me, cocking his shotgun. He aimed it at me, and I darted behind the aisle on my right to avoid the buckshot, which shredded the soda cans in the fridge in the wall behind me, as well as the wooden bat I was holding. I sighed, dropping the broken, splintered wood to the soda-stained floor. I was really dumb, not bringing my axe with me, but I supposed I could make it out of here, the only casualties being the foodstuffs that got shredded in the process.

The lady behind the counter ducked down, presumably hitting the silent alarm while she was at it. I snuck through the adjacent aisle as he ran down the one he had just seen me in, looking around. I made it to the end near the register by the time he went into the aisle I was just in, and by then I was out of sight again. Lucky me he didn't seem to be thinking of the mirrors in the corners of the ceiling like I was, which is how I avoided him. I figured I'd kited him long enough, going to try and sneak up behind him. I got probably about a foot or two away from him before my cover was blown.

One. Chip. One potato chip on the ground was crunching beneath my boot, and he spun right around to face me. I dashed forward, pushing the barrel of his shotgun upright as he was about to fire, the shot blowing a hole in the ceiling. I threw my arms to the side, throwing off his aim as I belted him in the eye, first with my right hand, then with my left. He headbutted me square in the face, making me stumble back.

He dropped his empty shotgun, going to charge me. I stayed on my feet, but he pushed me all the way to the wall behind us. He punched me twice in the ribs and kneed me in the gut before I pushed him off, hitting him on either temple with a head clap. After successfully discombobulating him, I gave him a solid front kick to the chest which nearly knocked him down.

This guy was tough, alright, even as buff as I was he just wouldn't go down that easily. He went to ram me again, but I moved out of the way, psyching him out so that he ran straight into the wall. He bounced back off of it right into my arms, which I wrapped around his waist in the not gay way, lifting him up and leaning way back, slamming him down on his head on the floor. I'd always wanted to do that.

I stood back up; he was apparently finished. I looked around for anybody else before walking over to the cute girl behind the register. She poked her head up, "Y-You… Did you beat them?"

"Yup. Now uh… Why don't we discuss payment?"

"P-Payment? O-Oh, okay, um… H-How much do you want?"

"Oh, maybe like… ten digits?"

"W-What?!"

"Yeah, ten digits." I put on my sunglasses, leaning on the counter on my elbow. "Like your phone number?" Smooooth operator.

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I made it home after talking with the cops who showed up not too long after I dealt with the robbers. It was a little late, so I made sure to be quiet as I crept in through the front door. I shut it so quietly, so stealthily, and turned to look into my living room. I would have been home free if it hadn't been for my Mom, Cara, sitting in the leather chair in the den. "Where have you been?" Not five seconds in and the interrogating was already starting. "It's eleven PM on a Wednesday, where were you?"

I had a response ready already, thank God. "I was with the band, Mom. Rehearsal and all that, we have a gig coming up."

She huffed, picking up the TV remote and turning on the flatscreen. She rewound it a bit, stopping at an overhead helicopter shot of the corner store I was just at, some text scrolling across the bottom of the screen as Lisa Lavender explained what had transpired.

"-A young man showed incredulous bravery today in downtown Vale just a few hours ago when he dispatched three armed robbers inside Chet's Cornerstone, a store located south of Laney Street. The young man, identified as a Murphy L. Verner was responsible for the detainment of three escaped prisoners and would-be thieves. The young man was identified by a Ms. Amy Bernard, who had been working as a cashier at the time of the robbery and who had allegedly been told his name by Mr. Verner himself. This-"

She shut the TV off, dropping the remote in the seat of the futon. Curse Lisa Lavender, her hotness was only matched by her ability to rat me out.

"You are in a lot of trouble." She gave me a stern look, my lying not helping her mood in the slightest.

I sighed, "Okay, but-"

"But nothing! What you did was very, very foolish!"

"I helped someone who needed it, what the hell-" I stopped myself, "...The heck is wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with that? Those men were dangerous; they could have killed you!"

"They could have killed her too; I couldn't just sit there and do nothing!"

"Why did it have to be you, then? Why not call the police, let someone else know instead of running in there, throwing your life away?!" I decided I didn't want to get into this right now. I went to walk up the stairs up to my room in a huff while she called after me. I ignored her, slamming the door behind me.

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I sat in my room, still cooling down from the recent fight me and Mom had. Of course, I couldn't get much of a word in, not like I knew really how to explain myself to her if I could. She always just wanted me to live the safe life, not to get into any trouble ever. But I couldn't just sit there and let them get away with that, and what if they had killed that girl? I was just so frustrated; I nearly tore my punching bag open while I was hitting it. I lied down on my bed on my back, putting on my headphones and looking up at the ceiling of my room. I listened to some softer rock and roll, like the meditative kind, if that makes sense or exists. Still, it didn't take my mind off of the whole situation.

I didn't like it, not one bit. I tried to do the right thing for somebody, but I always ended up with the short stick. I'd always hear stuff like "It isn't your job to help them," or "You should have called someone.". I guess in the long run; I wanted to be that someone. The someone you call when you're in danger, or you need something done. So, that night, I gave myself a choice. Either I stayed at home, lived a normal life, and never got to know what it was like to be somebody, or...

I made the calls that night to request an interview and let the band know what I was up to. It was Beacon Academy or bust.

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