BAM!!
The sickening thud of a fist hitting flesh echoed under the bridge. A thug flew backward, slamming into the metal fence behind him with a loud crash. His head hung low, blood dripping from his busted lip as he tried to shake off the daze.
"You cursed brat!" One of the thug's buddies, eyes wild with anger, shouted as he rushed Kaen, fists raised. His partner followed close behind, their faces twisted with fury.
"Yeah, yeah," Kaen muttered, completely unfazed. He scratched absentmindedly at the black burn mark on his cheek as they charged. With a swift step, he effortlessly slipped past their clumsy punches. Their fists barely grazed the air where he stood seconds before, leaving them off-balance and wide open.
"This brat!" One thug, desperate to turn the tide, reached into his jacket, eyes flashing with murderous intent. Kaen spotted the movement. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, a well-timed punch crashing into the side of the thug's head with brutal precision. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious before he could even pull out the weapon.
"Don't pull knives on a kid," Kaen said with a smirk, flexing his sore knuckles.
The last thug, seeing his fallen friends, hesitated. Kaen grinned, gesturing with his fingers for the man to come at him. The thug, anger clouding his judgment, charged in blindly. Kaen, with one smooth motion, pivoted and sent a powerful kick straight into the man's groin. A horrible, popping sound filled the air, followed by a high-pitched squeal. The thug collapsed, eyes rolling back as he lost consciousness.
"Shitty bastards," Kaen muttered, glancing at the crumpled bodies on the ground. He sighed, dusting himself off. "I'm gonna be late again… That old man's gonna give me hell."
---
Kaen's house was a small, run-down three-room shack on the outskirts of town. It stood isolated, the woods creeping closer each year. "I'm back, old man!" Kaen called out, pushing open the door without bothering to knock.
"What the hell took you so long?!" His father's gravelly voice boomed from the next room. The old man, 52, was retired from his security job after an injury took him out of action. His stern face peeked from behind a pile of newspapers.
"I ran into some thugs on the way home." Kaen flopped onto a chair, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Thugs? You didn't get into another fight, did you?" His father's voice had a sharp edge to it, suspicion heavy in his tone.
"Me? Of course not. You know I'm a pacifist." Kaen lied through his teeth, giving his father an exaggerated innocent smile. His father grunted, clearly not buying it but too tired to argue.
"Your food's in the fridge," the old man said gruffly.
Kaen made his way to the kitchen, stomach grumbling. He yanked open the fridge and found the usual—rice and chicken. "Again with this crap?" He groaned. "Hey, old ma—"
Suddenly, the ground trembled. The entire house shook violently, throwing Kaen off balance. His plate flew from his hand, crashing to the floor. "Ah, shit! My food!" Kaen stared down at the spilled meal, a pang of frustration rising.
"Old man! I dropped my dinner!" No response. "Old man!?"
Still no answer.
Kaen's irritation morphed into concern. He sprinted toward the living room, but the sight that greeted him stopped him dead in his tracks. His heart plummeted into his stomach.
The entire side of the house was gone, ripped away as if by some monstrous force. Standing in the wreckage was a hulking, shadowy creature, its form shifting unnervingly as it loomed over his father. The beast was massive, the size of a truck, and in its gaping maw, Kaen's father dangled lifelessly.
"Dad?!" Kaen screamed, his voice cracking in disbelief. His body froze, terror paralyzing him, but then the scar on his cheek began to burn—searing hot, as if a brand had been pressed to his skin. "Not now! Not now!" he hissed through clenched teeth. The pain was unbearable, worse than it had ever been before, and his vision blurred as the agony took hold.
The beast, its jaws tightening around his father, was ready to finish the job.
"No… Dad!" Kaen's voice was a hoarse whisper, helplessness surging through him. But just as the creature prepared to bite down, a streak of light slammed into the beast, sending it crashing into the trees with a thunderous impact.
"Am I late?" a voice called out.
Kaen looked up through tear-filled eyes to see a man standing in the ruins of the house, wearing sunglasses in the dead of night. He had short black hair, streaked with gray, and a calm confidence that made him seem out of place amidst the destruction.
"My dad?" Kaen croaked, his body trembling.
"Oh, you mean him?" The man gestured, and to Kaen's shock, his father was suddenly lying beside him, unharmed.
"H-How?!" Kaen stammered, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
"Sorry, kid. No time to explain," the man said, not even breaking a sweat. The shadow beast roared in fury, launching itself at the stranger with terrifying speed. The man simply caught its massive claws mid-swing, halting its attack as if it weighed nothing.
With a calm, almost bored expression, the man pulled back his fist and punched the creature square in the gut. The impact was so powerful it caused a shockwave, but instead of letting the beast fly away, the man held on, delivering a relentless barrage of punches. Each strike shook the air, obliterating the creature piece by piece until it was nothing more than a dissipating shadow.
Kaen, still conscious but barely hanging on, stared in disbelief. "How…?"
The man looked down at Kaen, his sunglasses reflecting the dim light. "Go to sleep, kid. You're barely holding on."
As the man's words reached him, Kaen's body gave in to the pain and exhaustion. His eyes fluttered shut, darkness swallowing him whole.
---
The man sighed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it as he surveyed the destruction. "Sir!" Two men in black suits came running up, their faces pale as they saw the ruined house and the dead beast.
"You're here. Clean up this mess," the man said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"But, sir, what about them?" one of the suited men asked, gesturing toward Kaen and his father.
The man took another drag from his cigarette, glancing at the unconscious boy. "Them? Leave them to me."