Vigilante Justice



Scene Title Vigilante Justice
Synopsis Keira takes out her anger on others in the form of some good old fashioned vigilante justice.
Date May 31, 2018

Ruins of Staten Island

At first, she was mad enough at herself that she actually entertained the thought of going out and randomly murdering someone. Make herself actually be the horrible person that she feels like.

But that would be feckless. And Keira really needs to stop doing that. It’s going to get her killed one of these days if she keeps it up.

Prowling the streets of Staten, the shapeshifter, wearing the face of the fat man with a beard and long hair, ‘Kevin’ is hoping to catch someone doing something unthinkable to another person, so there is justification for stabbing someone in the throat. Dark vigilante is totally an aesthetic that Keira could get behind.

While the current course of action wouldn’t exactly be considered the most rational thing to do, it does hold the promise of killing a few birds with a single stone. One, it is decidedly much less evil than going around and murdering helpless people. Two, it gets her a new face — or maybe a few, considering the population of Staten. Three, it’s also much safer, with three well-trained armed men tagging along for the trip. They’re all ex military, and while they’ve all turned to a life of crime, they all seem to relish the thought of doling out some vigilante justice.

They’ve been at this for about an hour and a half now, patrolling the seedier parts of Staten Island, and have found little more than a few people peddling their illegal wares. None of that concerns them — it’s not like Keira doesn’t make a majority of her money from the same thing. Someone robbing another at gunpoint is also ignored, because…well, money is a thing, and while she’s not fond of thieves, it’s hardly a reason to kill a person.

Keira wants to kill somebody, but she’s going to make sure that she’s not going to be a fucking serial killer.

It kind of hurts a lot, too, that her friendship with Tibby has probably been ended…over an anxiety-fueled kiss.

A fucking kiss.

Thankfully, tonight is Keira’s lucky night. One of the men stops dead, and the others and ‘Kevin’ immediately follow suit; from an alley a few paces away, a scuffle can be heard; a man lets out a small shout, followed shortly after by a young woman letting out a terrified scream. It is sharp and frantic, that is almost immediately cut off, turned into a muffled one. Two men can be heard, loudly whispering amongst each other, all the while the scuffling of feet as whoever let out the scream struggles against something.

“Keep her fucking quiet, Carl! She’s one fucking woman, how the fuck hard can it be to keep her from screaming?” The tall, lanky, older man sneers at the younger one, even as he sticks duct tape over the poor woman’s mouth; she lets out another muffled scream, but she can’t get the volume that she needs to truly call for help.

Fuck you, Ross, she bit me. Why do I always have to get their arms and mouth? I’ve been bit four times in the past week.” Carl is much younger, shorter, but there is obviously a reason he is the muscle of this operation — the guy obviously works out whenever he isn’t at work. “I’d like to see you do this and not get bit, asshole.”

This is Staten Island. While there are probably a good many people who take issue with human trafficking on this island, it is also considered a safe haven for criminals and all of their illegal doings. Which is probably why the two men are caught by surprise when three men armed with very big guns pour into the alley, weapons up and ready to be used if deemed necessary. Following shortly on their heels, ‘Kevin’ slips into the alley, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Shit. What the fuck do you want, man? We don’t have any money.” Ross steps back away from the woman, raising his hands into the air; he doesn’t like his chances with his and Carl’s handguns against three men with much bigger guns. Carl, in turn, reluctantly lets the woman go, setting her down on the ground before raising his hands.

The girl, a gutter punk who probably should be camping out in the Safe Zone instead of trying to hang with the big boys in Staten, scrambles away, ripping the duct tape off of her mouth. “They’re trying — they’re trying to kidnap me!” She skitters back, putting the armed men between herself and the men who were attempting to take her away. “Asked me for ID…then grabbed me when I said I didn’t have any. Talked about radioing in once they got me tied up.”

‘Kevin’ frowns, looking at the woman, then to the two men. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, darlin’,” he replies in a soft Cajun drawl, reaching out to offer the girl a hand. “We won’t let these men hurt you — you don’t have to worry about them ever bothering you again, y’hear?” When she takes his hand, he gently pats the back of it. “You run along now.”

The words aren’t said, but the implication is there. With wide eyes, the dark-haired girl nods, before she turns and flees, heading straight for the safety of whatever place she might call home.

Kevin’s brown-eyed gaze sweeps over to the men, expression darkening. “Mmm mmm mmm. Looks like we have ourselves a pair of those human traffickers on our hands, boys.” He saunters closer. “Tie ‘em up.” One of Keira’s men snatches the duct tape from Ross’s upraised hand, and promptly pulls his hands behind his back, winding the tape around his wrists; he follows suit with Carl, before making sure that both men’s wrists are nice and secure. “Do you boys have anything to say for yourselves?”

Carl glares at ‘Kevin’, his frame tense; he doesn’t respond, however, keeping his teeth gritted and staring levelly ahead. Ross, on the other hand, is not so resolute. “H-hey man, we were, we were just doing a job. Just making money. Y-you know how it goes, y-you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.” He gestures to a van, parked deeper within the alley. “That, ah, that isn’t even mine. I’m just here to try and put food in my kids’ mouth.”

This gets a snort from Carl. “You don’t have any fucking kids, you greedy shithead.” Carl, apparently, does not appreciate his older associate’s apparent willingness to sell out their employer.

Any argument that might be had between the two is cut short by ‘Kevin’ motioning for silence. “I appreciate the words, boys. Unfortunately for you, I’m in a particularly foul mood tonight, and I’m afraid that any fabricated stories you boys might have for me are going to fall on deaf ears. You see, boys, I might be a criminal…but I’ve also got a moral code, and abducting people who have done nothing to deserve such treatment is pretty heavily against it.” He sniffs once, frowning at Ross in particular. “I can’t very well enjoy my nightly stroll when poor girls are being abducted.”

Once the two men are securely tied, the round fellow nods to them; two move to the entrance of the dead-end alley, the last one moves to go through the van. As they do their jobs, the man reaches into his pocket, pulling out a switchblade. With the blade concealed, the man twirls the handle around his fingers once; then, with the press of a button, the blade flips out. Carl’s eyes widen, but he glares ahead steadily; Ross swallows, stammering out a few words before he is silenced by the blade pressing against his throat.

“I also can’t, in good conscience, allow you to continue doing what you’re doing. There’s a lot of bad things I am willing to condone…but human trafficking, unfortunately, isn’t one of them.” ‘Kevin’ leans closer to Ross, his eyes narrowing. “And I’m afraid it’s a rather unforgivable thing.”

He doesn’t wait for Ross to object; the older man’s eyes widen and he lets out a choked gurgle as the blade bites into the flesh of his neck, slicing into the jugular and his esophagus. Blood pours out, and the man, making choked sounds of protest at his own death, sinks to the ground as the life pours out of him. It doesn’t take too long for him to go still, and that wonderful warm feeling blooms in Keira’s chest as she gains herself a nice new face.


Carl doesn’t watch his friend’s death. He instead glares at the wall ahead of him, muscular form tense. It doesn’t stop him from hearing those death rattles. However, to his credit, he doesn’t flinch when ‘Kevin’ presses the blade, still wet with Ross’s blood, against his throat. He’s much braver than his friend, at least.

No words are wasted, this time; ‘Kevin’ can certainly respect the man’s refusal to speak. The silence doesn’t last as the blade bites into flesh once more — Carl lets out a gurgling moan, blood bubbling up from the back of his throat. He struggles to remain upright, but gravity and blood loss eventually send him crashing to the ground.

Again comes that warm bloom in Keira’s chest, the man taking a sharp inhale of breath as the second life is snuffed out. It feels so nice, it makes him want to do this vigilante thing more often. Perhaps this will become a regular occasion. It certainly can’t hurt to rid the world of a few more human traffickers and other equally awful people, right?

The man who was going through the vehicle returns to ‘Kevin’, handing him what valuables he could find. The two in the alleyway are called over. “Put them in their van. Drive it into the bay.” A gesture is offered to the man who did the ransacking. “I think I’ve had enough for tonight.”

Brown eyes land on the two deceased faces that are now part of his new list, briefly lingering. A moment of respect — even if they were repugnant humans, they were still humans at their base level.

Then, the rotund man turns, strolling out of the alley while his men deal with the mess.

While killing the traffickers does absolutely nothing to make Keira feel better about the situation with Tibby, it does feel good to let off some steam — and to help some helpless people in the process. That's two fewer people out there abducting people.

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