Retribution

‘This is the last time you will treat me like this,’ He sobbed as the bullies ran away.

And he meant it too. He was done handling the situation like she had suggested. ‘Ignore them,’ she said. ‘They will soon tire and go do something else’ she said. ‘Be the bigger man,’ she said.

Well, it was about time he fought fire with fire. 

He matched on home with a mission. He could barely feel the pain from his bleeding arm or notice the angry stares from the neighbourhood over his dishevelled look, shirt sticking out and torn, blue pants now stained with dirt and blood.

*****

He swung the door open with all the pent-up energy of a child who had been bullied too hard and too long. But remembered himself before it slammed shut. There was no need to alert her to his arrival and consequently, his plans before there was time.

‘Is that you?’ she still asked. He sighed. Who else could it be? Who else made the journey to the end of the town to enter a rundown house with no electricity and no windows because the entire village thought it fun to hate on the weak? Who else could it possibly be?

He grunted his response and continued his way.

They were all going to see. When he was done with them, they would see. They would see.

He ran to his lair, a shoe-box sized room that was just enough for his bed (a mattress he rolled out when he was going to sleep) and a small table that doubled as his catchall. 

He rolled out his mattress and pulled out his sketches. He needed to make his costume more sinister. More terrifying. If this village thought it was justifiable to beat up and frown on people, he was going to show them that he could be just as judicious. 

****

He asked her to make the costume. There was no money to buy anything fancy so the scrapes and rags they had around would do. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the sketches but didn’t ask. Which was always safest. Don’t ask if you weren’t sure you could handle the answer. 

The first time he donned the mask, goosebumps raced up his spine. There was no going back on this. It stuck to his face funny. 

‘Retribution,’ He whispered to himself. 

He nodded appreciatively. Beyond the purpose, it was a fitting name. For power. For pain. For justice.

He ran off to the neighbour’s house. Just to see if this was going to work after all.

She had asked the neighbour a few times to stop encroaching on their land so they could grow some potatoes. They had often gone hungry because no one in this forsaken place would share, at least not to them anyway. And said neighbour would shout at them, curse and declare how the world was better off with them dead. Now, he would see for sure.

He messed with the trash, he messed with the windows. He tried the back door and found it open. He weighed the option and walked in anyway. It was time to mess with their sense of security. He had never had the luxury of that.

He walked through the hall. Caught a strange glimpse of himself in the mirror that half scared him out of the house. Like his face was not his anymore. The mask made all the angles of his face look edgy and hard. His eyes had morphed into red orbs with streaks of black and blue. 

He backtracked to gaze upon himself, to make sure he was still himself. 

The reflection was him. Just with a mask. A simple flimsy cloth mask.

The screams tore out before he could breathe out in relief. He turned to find the neighbour’s five-year old daughter clutching her doll and wailing like she had glimpsed the world’s end. 

He tried to calm her down. Explain that it was him. But his voice came out like a growl. 

The neighbour’s wife came out with a stick and prodded him as she pulled her daughter to herself. 

‘Get away from us you monster,’ she hissed. 

She said the last words and he could feel the mask dig deeper into his skin, as though it wanted to embody him. Or maybe it was just trying to do its job and shield him.

He jumped out the window just as the neighbour pointed his gun towards him. He ran the long way home, trying to disorient any onlookers. He didn’t want them to think it was them and make life even more unlivable.

He climbed through the window into his room and threw most of the things that were on the table. They were soft but She had always been a light sleeper. He waited with bated breath. He didn’t want to have to explain anything. 

A slight knock on the door. A soft whisper.

‘You okay in there?’ At least she always respected his privacy.

‘Yeah. I’m good.’ He waited a beat till he was sure she had walked away.

He shrugged out of his costume and threw it at the door. The mask though didn’t let go without a fight. He tugged and danced till he threw it at his worn mattress. He looked at it like it was the enemy.

There was something odd about the mask, he thought to himself. He would ask her about it. Was there some magic and other powers at play? He couldn’t shake the look of the child or that fleeting glimpse in the mirror. 

***

The morning news read ‘Monsters Among Us’. She had swiped a newspaper from the store because the news was too good to pass up. The neighbours had described their break-in with more exaggerations than fact.

The monster was covered in spotty dirty fur, with fangs sticking out the side of his mouth and smoke rising out his nostrils. The eyes were ablaze with hunger for blood. He growled for communication. Could walk on all twos or run on fours like they had observed with him leaping out the window. It leapt out the window like it was nothing, had torn the door off its hinges and the hands that hung by its side looked like they could twist metal like paper. It looked worse than an animal.

They would have all died but luckily it was caught off-guard. Now, everybody needs to be on guard. 

There was something about the way she read the story, like she had her suspicions and needed clarity. He wondered if this was the time to ask about his costume. They sat in the weight of their secrets till he had to leave.

The bullies didn’t bother him that day. They stayed hunched in the corner and spoke of the monster. No one was safe, they said. 

And he heard everything they said like he was right there with them.

Scared of everything he had heard, he decided not to go about his villainous activities that night. And the night after that. And the night after that.

**

But then the fear started to wear off. The papers choked it up as an overactive imagination of a family that had experienced a break-in. The curfew was lifted. The authorities were sleeping on the job. The bullies and town seemed to be reverting back to their ways. They all said this wasn’t a monster to be feared if it could be scared away with a scream and a threat.

Somehow those comments hurt. Like his alter ego was not good enough either. Even though they had made it out to be more dangerous than it actually was.

But the mask had been calling.

And he finally answered on a cold cloudy Thursday evening. 

He pulled it over his face and it felt like breathing again, like there had been so much untapped power kept away like he could certainly be more.

There was something about it that made him feel instantly better. Instantly more powerful. The anonymity of it made everything possible.  

He flexed his fingers. Seeing them through the mask, they looked like claws. Strong. Sharp. Brutal. He shook his head and blinked twice. His fingers looked like fingers again.

He pulled off the mask. He expected to yank it off but it slid off so easily this time. He looked at the limp thing in his hands and scratched his head. Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe he didn’t need to go on a terror pursuit.

Thunder cracked a little while later and the skies started crying.

Usually, when the weather changed, he would huddle close to her. For the warmth. 

But then they had voices. They started as whispers and drew louder and closer. They threw in homemade smoke bombs through the broken windows and cursed and mocked them out loud. He felt himself shaking…and not from the cold. He could hear the mask growl and this time it didn’t matter that that was an insane occurrence.

He ran for it and ignored her gentle chiding to not go down this dark path. But if she didn’t want him down this path, why did she make this mask?

He put it on in one sweep, dressed in the costume and went out. He just wanted to scare them. Maybe beat one of them up, show them they weren’t defenceless and would just love to be left alone. 

*

When he came to, there were two bodies on the side of their house. There were claw marks all over the bodies, dirt and blood mangled in the 2 metre radius around them. 

He retched out all his innocence on the side and entered his house. 

Let them stay as a warning, he thought. Things were changing and the power balance had shifted in their favour. What did it matter that they were going to say he was going about it the wrong way? 

Now, he would get rid of the bullies’ families and move into their mansions. Hunger, Homelessness, Helplessness. Those were a thing of the past.

She didn’t say anything though when he entered, even when she studied the state he was in.  

They say power corrupts. But they hadn’t lived in this village. He was corrupted way before he had power, oozing hatred and pain before the scales could be balanced. 

They were all going to see. When he was done with them, they would see. They would see.