It's oddly deserted today, Isaac thinks as he walk down the sidewalk, listening to the iPod he found when he woke up a few weeks ago. Usually, it being about five in the afternoon, the street would be crowded with people eager to get home after a long day of work.
As he passes an electronics store, he stops and look through the window at the televisions on display, all on the local news channel. "It has been three months since the disappearances have started," the anchorwoman was saying. "Local authorities, in collaboration with federal investigators, still have not turned up any leads as to who's behind it..."
The rest of the report is lost to him as his other self starts speaking. They're never gonna be found, Vincent says in his mind.
"Shut up," Isaac replies, turning away from the window and continuing with his walk.
Heh, be careful, Vincent warns, a bad temper isn't exactly popular with the ladies.
Isaac sighs out loud. As he passes by an alley, some movement catches his eye. Looking into the shadows created by the surrounding buildings, he manages to make out the shapes of three fairly large individuals towering over the cowering form of a small businessman. "Alright, listen here," the largest guy, obviously the leader, says, "just give us all your money and we'll leave you alone."
"Please, just go away," the small man says, "I don't have anything!"
"Oh, really?" the smallest of the three says. He picks the man up by the lapels of his tan suit and says, "A suit like this don't come cheap, does it?"
"Hold his arms," the leader tells the smaller guy. Turning to the third guy, who looked about as round as a softball and several times larger, he orders, "Show him why it's a bad idea to lie to us."
The man pulls a switchblade out of his pocket and moves toward the wide-eyed, squirming man. Before he can take a step, Isaac calls into the alley, "I'd put that away and let him go if I were you."
All four of them look at him. The fat man says, "Who the hell do you think you are?"
Pulling his headphones away from his ears and taking his jacket off, revealing his one-sleeved shirt, he says, "Y'know, I'm not even really sure. I just know I can't stand people like you three."
The three thugs exchange confused looks. The small guy lets go of the man and pulls out a set of knuckles. "Why don't you beat it, kiddie," he warns, "before your parents have to pay for an early funeral."
Shrugging, Isaac steps forward. "Not an option, I'm afraid."
After glancing at his boss, who nods, the man charges, readying his arm for a punch. As he throws his fist forward, Isaac reacts instinctively. Ducking under his arm, Isaac grabs his wrist in one hand, his belt in the other. Using his speed against him, he throws him onto the ground headfirst, knocking him out cold.
As Isaac stands, the fat guy charges, drawing his knife back. A look of confusion passes over his face as he catches his empty fist in his left hand. In his hand is the plastic handle, the blade missing. He looks up at Isaac and gasps.
Floating next to Isaac's head are globules of a dark-colored metallic liquid surrounded by a black mist of carbon. He lifts his right hand, the markings running down his arm glowing a soft silver, and the iron flows over his hand, coming to rest just above his palm. The iron absorbs the carbon and, about ninety seconds later, takes on a shining silver color. The man's eyes widen even further as the newly-formed steel molds into the shape of a blade. Isaac lifts his hand in front of the fat man's face, the blade pointing at his eye. Looking at him, then his leader, Isaac, with a little influence from Vincent, says, "Run, unless you want to feel unimaginable pain."
The words are barely out of his mouth when the leader runs past him, practically scraping along the wall of the building in an effort to stay as far away from Isaac as possible, nearly trips over his unconscious friend, and disappears around the corner. The fat guy rips his hand out of his and races to catch up. Isaac drops the blade and it melts into the ground as he turns to the businessman. He flinches as Isaac holds his hand out to help him up, but takes it after he realizes he won't hurt him. "You all right?" Isaac asks as he pulls him up.
"Y-yeah," he replies.
"Good," Isaac replies. "Take care getting home." He turns and starts walking away.
"Wait!" the man calls after me. "Who are you?"
Isaac looks back and smiles. "Oh, no one special." He turns the corner, throws his jacket back on, powers up his iPod, and continues his walk.