The Knightstick Chronicles, Rough Justice

Prologue, Knight on the Town

The sky was a stark contrast to the street below. While above me was a scene of serene silence, a pale full moon illuminating a cloudless night sky, below was a bustling nightlife thronging the streets with its nightclubs and bars in a whirl of noise and motion. Concentrating from the ground among the herd was too difficult, so I chose a place in the middle. Eight stories up, I kneeled over the rooftop ledge watching the crowds in all their excitement. A chill wind whipped past me stirring the hem of my long wool frock coat. I leaned into it, pulling the brim of my old derby hat low to block the breeze from stinging my eyes. My hand absentmindedly brushed the ancient silver heptagram talisman on my chest.

It had been several months since the ordeal in the cave where Leo foisted this relic on me. Its influence was... undesirable. The Talisman forced me to see into the Aether space around people, where the evil in men's hearts manifest before my waking eyes. I couldn't control it, couldn't be rid of it. It is an experience I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

Weeks prior, under the sway of the talisman, I unwittingly caught the psychic stench of a putrid soul. His name was Jeb. He and his gang of deplorables were driven to take whomever they could for their sick pleasures, a pastime they entertained often. The things I saw in the Aether around Jeb were terrible. Visions that rang with defiant inevitability. I couldn't shake them, couldn't forget. It compelled me to act despite myself.

So here I stood, waiting, hunting... leather gloves creaked over my knuckles as I clenched my fist anxiously biding the time. He would be here tonight, I was sure of it.

   I continued scanning the crowd below when the talisman sent a jolt of epiphany through me. My eyes were pulled instinctively to a street corner across the building where I stood. There he was... In an alley off the street along with two others... Jeb was a man in his mid-thirties with a shaved head covered in tattoos. He wore a dirty white tank top under his leather cut, old jeans, and his favorite white laced leather boots; hardly an endearing visage. The others were dressed in similarly distasteful fashion, and all three were trying to stay out of sight. Their swaying bodies told me how much they had imbibed already. Greedy eyes lingered on the doors of the club on the ground floor of the building where I stood watch, sizing up the women coming and going; a pack of wolves waiting for one of the sheep to stray.

I recalled the flashes I had of his past victims. Jeb would take pictures and expose the women to what they had endured as blackmail to keep them silent, so far it had worked. Having felt inside of his mind I knew the only reason Jeb didn't kill the girls was because it was harder to dispose of a body than it was to instill terror. Especially that many bodies... He and his crew knew who to pick and how to get away. Tonight was their idea of a milk run.

When I was in the vision, the pain and fear of the women washed over me, consuming me. I gathered several had taken their own lives after. My jaw clenched and my shoulders tightened at the memory of it. Burning anger quelled personal disquiet.  

I monitored Jeb's movements closely until, at last, he perked up. He pushed away from the wall where he had been leaning, his lackeys snapping too. I followed their gaze to a group of young women exiting the club, clearly the worse for wear. They hugged each other laughing drunkenly as they said good night and parted ways. One of them, a brunette wearing a slim, short blue dress, held her heels in her hands as she swayed down an alley along the side of the club where several cars were parked. Jeb and his goons prowled across the road splitting up to either side as they slunk behind cars to get into position behind her.

The girl stopped near a small silver two-door and began fumbling in her purse, completely oblivious to her surroundings. She had no idea the men had surrounded her. No idea there were no witnesses about, nor that the booming music in the club would prevent anyone from hearing her screams. Jeb moved quickly, lunging out from behind the girl he grabbed her by the throat to keep her silent. His fellow fiends kept watch, cackling wickedly as Jeb pulled her down behind the car licking her cheek and reveling in her expression of shocked terror. My heart leaped into my throat.