Darkness

Darkness,
Dimly lit streets,
A Cool Breeze arches over the city.
Soft music threads it's way through the alleyways.
This is my city. I protect it. I can't protect it all the time. I must work during the day, but at night, I take to the rooftops and shadows.
Watching, lurking.
The pages of myth and legend tell the tale. Hercules, Robin Hood, Francois Villon, Don Quixote. All of them protecting the innocent and fighting the tyranny of evil men.
I too, keep watch.
There are those that deserve vengeance.
Striking quietly.
I protect another person.
I do not seek thanks, or fame, or fortune.
Just smiles and laughter, and peace of mind.
People used to laugh and smile and feel safe, But things change.
You must be ever vigil.
I failed to protect someone once. It wont happen again.
There, on the street. A girl has left a bar. Walking, walking.
One of the bums asks her for change. I know he is harmless.
The girl gives him some change and a smile, and continues.
She must have driven to the city to drink and dance.
Down a fire escape, through an alley, I follow.
I pass a prostitute at work. Animal noises, halting breaths.
I stop for a moment to ponder the two. One scared and excited, the other cold and constant.
Who should be protected?
Neither.
I move on.
I see a man in a doorway across the street.
Darkness shrouds him.
He leans against the glass.
The girl is approaching.
I scour the opening with my eyes.
Is he just a vagrant, who has found a place to rest?.
He has no packs.
Maybe he has just gotten high; guilt driving him into dark solitude.
He hears the girl coming. He straightens.
I sense he is poised to pounce.
The girl walks on.
Closer.
I think he has something in his hand.
She is nearing the opening.
I see a glint of light.
She Doesn't see him there.
Waiting.
The man plucks her from the street.
She can't scream.
I break from my place in safety.
Running now across the street.
He is tearing the clothes from the girl.
I hurry on.
He is touching her trembling body.
Hand searching for stolen pleasures.
I land on the sidewalk.
Startled, the man falls forward, body pressing against the naked form.
He is lulled by the soft warm flesh. Suddenly wishing it didn't have to be like this.
I attack.
I snap him to his feet.
Pressing his head through the glass,
I take the knife from his hands.
The girl has backed into the corner.
She tries to cover herself with the tatters of her clothes.
He swings back with his fist.
Grabbing his arm I twist on my feet. Throwing him to the sidewalk.
He writhes in pain.
I press the knife deep into his back.
Air and blood spray from the hole in his lung.
Now I must be human again.
I offer the girl my coat.
Helping her to her feet.
She holds me tightly.
I carry her away from the dyeing man.
I do not enjoy killing, But it is my job.
I have done my job.