Abuse of Chikara (book 1) (34 page)

These sniper rifles were awesome for lack of a better word. Quinton had been driving around blasting gangbangers and other thugs through the walls, or whatever obstacles was in the way at the time. He would watch the news, investigate certain murders, find the killers before the police and mete out his brand of justice. He had no restrictions placed upon him concerning his investigations into criminals. He could torture anyone, which is something he always did. Gangbangers gave him information freely after he threw a few of their buddies out of tall buildings. Many died, a few survived with multiple broken bones. Some might recover in time, others would be crippled for life. He did not really care actually. Dragging people to their deaths from the back of his car was also a personal favorite. If physical torture did not work, he could always take some of their blood to sift through their memories until he found what he wanted. The Carpenter also provided him with excellent leads for a price. Not having to worry about due process, lawyers, independent police review boards or that other nonsense made the wheels of justice move a lot faster. He could break into any place he wanted and did not need a warrant. He tracked down murderers, rapists, child molesters and many thugs loose in the city that police could not or would not deal with. Instead of a grand jury, trial by judge or jury, he was judge, jury and executioner.

These sniper’s rifle allowed him to shoots punks from a great distance through multiple structures. He had shot some rapist the other day five buildings down. The guy had grabbed some white chick and had torn her panties off. Soon her was on top of her thrusting away. The female fought back, but was no match. He could not be sure if the guy was Hispanic or mixed with some other lighter-skinned race. It did not matter as he would be dispensing the same brand of street justice no matter the skin color. There was a small crowd gathering in the area watching the event unfold. One man was talking on his cell phone. No doubt calling the police. This Hispanic rapist had balls or was dumb as hell. To commit rape in broad daylight in front of multiple witnesses. Some guys loved prison and did not care about going back.

It was almost funny how emasculated modern-day men were in this era. Here you have at least six guys from different races standing like lawn furniture watching this crime happen. Not one of them tried to tackle this guy. The six of them could easily subdue this pervert. Society had taught men to be pussies. Men no longer protected their communities anymore. At least some of them seemed to be calling the police. Many gathered here were not even doing that. He lined up a good shot and squeezed the trigger The bullets were so powerful that they almost blew off the man’s entire head. There was very little left except a chin. To people standing by it seemed as if the man’s head simply exploded on its own. He drove off and headed to his next target. No need to stay around here. No way that punk would survive with no brain or face. Medical staff and police would be here soon to talk to witnesses and deal with the body and female victim. He wished he could get more ammo for these rifles. There were about six shots left. He had taken a ton ammo off the dead bodies of Big Al’s men and went on a killing spree the last few days. Not to mention he had wasted quite a few bullets trying to shoot Bill. He had located Bill hiding out in a small apartment building on the South Side. This had seemed a golden opportunity that was unfortunately wasted. Of course, he had done his best to blast Bill using the special sniper’s rifle.

Unfortunately, Bill’s guardian, the Asian man in white, had stood in front of the bullets and not even flinched as the shots hit him square in the chest. He had wasted a ton of ammunition firing at different angles trying to get around the man and hit Bill. The Asian man had blocked every shot and eventually came running after him at a startling pace. Fortunately Big Al’s car was souped-up and he was able to drive off at a faster speed than he assumed the man could chase him. The man was more interested in running him off rather than catching him though. He was powerful, but not an idiot. Getting his ass kicked was not on the menu today, so he ran like a bitch. He would have to find a way of dealing with this person, whatever he was, if he wanted to kill Bill. The Carpenter had heard rumors that Bill was planning to jet after taking care of some business in town soon. No doubt closing down bank accounts and removing all his secret stashes of loot hidden in areas around the city. The idea of Bill leaving the city is not something that seemed feasible months ago. With his career path and plans to go into politics dead now, there was no reason to stick around. If the man did leave it would be harder to find him. He went back to his hideout and sat thinking about a way to end this little drama once and for all. He would relax and come up with another plan to take out Bill soon. Most likely he would get up in the morning and shoot some more thugs as that always helped him think better.

He was driving around with his special sniper’s rifle and an assortment of other guns he had taken off gangbangers and police officers. He had an impressive little arsenal back at the flea market. His prize was these sniper rifles he had stolen from Big Al’s men. Shooting thugs through walls and other obstacles was just too much fun. He had never been into video games when he was younger, but wondered if this is what people felt when playing. He had read all the studies about how video games caused violence. Personally, he had never put much faith in these so-called studies. Society had deep-seated problems that had been around for centuries, which could not be explained simply by dumping all the fault on modern-day entertainment. Then again, it was simpler than actually dealing with the real problems of society.

He was listening to one of his favorite radio talk show hosts. A black man by the name of T.S.Raw uncut. The radio host was talking about the many problems of poor crime-ridden communities. Things like poor parenting, negative influences like gangs, unemployment, lack of jobs, labeling theory. Not to mention prejudice in terms of education, the criminal justice system, and single-parent homes. Of course, no one wanted to tackle those issues. Unfortunately, he did not have the power of billions of dollars it would take to fix all those issues. These communities had become a plague in the nation like diseased tissue harming the rest of the body. If a body part became infected with gangrene, sometimes you had to cut it out. Gangrene is caused by insufficient blood supply to a particular organ. Society had decided not to spend the resources in these poor areas to fix the problems. Decided not to provide these people with the blood flow of resources like jobs and economic growth. Therefore, these communities had become diseased and threatened the rest of the body with violence, crime and death. If you would not do what is needed to save a body part, then only thing left was to cut it off. Quinton was that surgeon cutting away the dead flesh that society had decided to starve from getting proper blood flow. It was fortunate that some in society were trying to help, but they had misplaced ideas and lacked the proper resources to save the sick tissue. In some ways they were just as much a part of the problem because they gave hope. Unless there was massive funds spent, these crime-ridden communities could not be saved.

One such person who thought he could save the diseased tissue was some middle-aged white priest. The man was trying to mediate between different gangs by organizing basketball games, barbecues and other such get together. Guess he thought he could get these fools to talk out their problems rather than resort to violence. A noble goal, but a foolish one as well. You could not have so many elements converge to produce people who were little more than unfeeling organic machines, and think talking and sports would solve those problems. He had to give the god-fearing man props, but he had the real solution to the problem. These young men has less emotions than Data from Star Trek, and had to be dealt with by someone on their own level.

The basketball game had already started. Quinton had parked three blocks down in an alley. Using his scope, he peered through buildings and locked on a young player going to the rim for a dunk. He strongly considered shooting the teenager, but held his fire. He was not here for the young thugs. While he would kill a teenager, if pushed, he would rather not kill the young and women if he could avoid it. His targets were the older gang leaders. Some of the street Captain Leaders and White Devils big dogs. These two gangs had been going at it for some time now. The White Devils were a gang made up of mostly Caucasian or white-skinned people. They were basically a skinhead group that sold drugs and was involved in racial crimes against minorities. The Street Captains were a newer gang that had been taking over in Chicago, literally running older, longer established gangs out of their territory. They were actually similar to the Devils in that they were founded upon racist principals. The Street Captains were made up of any race, except whites, which they hated with a passion. The Street Captains were better organized, had better connections and were better armed. Considering their founder was ex-Army Special Forces that had served with Bill. This preacher was just being used by the guy’s running these gangs. Participation in crap like this was just to make them look good to the media. The Street Captains had long used different methods to try and blunt their negative image with the public. They were actively involved in many charitable organizations, which was funny considering how many problems they caused. The White Devils had been slow to embrace an understanding that controlling their image in public could help them, but they were quick studies. They would not be feeling so good when he got done. He targeted one of the low-level bosses for the Street Captains and fired. The tall, dark-skinned man’s body fell over backward as his head exploded. Three other middle-aged men fell over as well. Two minor gang leaders from the White Devils and one from the Street Captains. At this point people were running around screaming and panicking. He made sure not to hit anyone in the audience or the police officers providing security here. This would most likely be looked at as a hit by a rival gang by the media. He hit two more targets and drove off. This was enough for today. He knew who the bosses were in both gangs and would continue to hit them. The Carpenter had been very accurate in his information concerning the real players in both gangs. He had decided to kill the leaders of any and all gangs in Chicago. He had thought about this for some time.

The plan had originally been to kill all the thugs in the city. He still had some misgivings about killing minors. Not that he would never do so, rather he would try to avoid it. In any case, he had tested out a theory of his, he thought they called a social learning theory. The idea is that violence is learned by seeing violence and imitating it. He felt that there is more to it than that. No strong-minded person would watch Saturday morning cartoons or horror films and go on a killing spree. He certainly had not become a mass murdered after watching Galaxy Rangers, Transformers and GI Joe. Or even the countless horror films like Evil Dead, Wes Craven’s Nightmare on Elm Street or the Howling. He had even loved the really bad horror films like Mausoleum as a child.

The problem is that there are weak-minded people in this world, and they would follow thug bosses like this. The high, midlevel and even low-level bosses were heroes and role models to them. He would use the social learning theory to his advantage. These men would see that there are consequences to their actions. Killing the leaders would make them think twice. If and when new leaders popped up, he would kill them as well. If that did not work, then maybe he would have to reconsider his policy on killing minors or at least relax it somewhat. He could not get rid of the social pressure that caused people to join gangs. No one who really cared had that amount of power. Perhaps the President or Congress did, but they were more concerned about spending trillions trying to run the affairs of other nations. He could, however, make the cost outweigh the benefits in Chicago at least. Thugs did not understand or care about pro-social behavior, and when it came to social dilemmas, they always picked whatever scenario benefitted themselves. However, he would make the cost of crime higher than the benefits. These punks, young and old, would stop committing crimes to save their own skins in the long run.

They were sitting around watching 3D movies. Psycho Boy loved watching 3D stuff while he was high or drunk, or often both. He could not even remember what he was smoking. Josh gave him a phone and Bill asked to meet some place. Seems he was leaving and wanted to meet him in person. Wanted to go over his plans for the future and wanted Psycho to go with him. He was leaving in about a week. This fit in perfectly with his plans. He agreed to meet Bill soon. In three days his place would be in good shape. He went back to watching the 3D movie martial arts film with Josh and Dirty Red’s spirit. He woke up on his couch, stiff from sleeping in an awkward position. He got up, looked out the window and saw it was bright and sunny. He took a shower and gathered up Josh and Dirty Red. He still had one more day to kill before his place was ready. Guess he would go to his local movie theatre and catch that newest flick out. He headed out to his favorite theatre.This new movie about people being allowed to commit any crime for 24 hours is pretty good. He would have liked to live in that type of situation. He would go down the street, blasting motherfuckers and fucking people. He would love to rape random men and women on the street of any race. His idea to end all violence is to have everybody fuck. People who are fucking are usually not going to kill each other. Psycho thought most people were full of pent-up aggression that they just needed to release. That’s why this movie appealed to him so much. Look at the situation with the Ku Klux Klan back in the day. If you could have got them, blacks together, and forced them to fuck, problem solved.

He liked this movie theatre and so did Dirty Red. Red was not all that interested in the film, though. Seems Red thought evil spirits like him had an ability to move objects or push people briefly. Seems there were a lot of prerequisites that went into this though. The spirit could only operate in a certain area. It took years or decades to develop this ability, and they needed negative spiritual energy to achieve strong power like that. However, Psycho was an abnormal source of negative spiritual energy, which would help him develop his abilities at a much higher rate compared with other evil spirits. He was playing with his powers right now harassing a white family. He caused the white father’s drink to fly out of his hand and spill in the face of the man’s young 8-year-old daughter. Dirty Red had to take long breaks of at least 10 minutes between these simple attacks as his powers developed. The family had purchased a huge bag of popcorn that they were passing around. When the father went to pass it to the daughter, he caused the father’s hand to go in the girl’s direction with more force, causing the popcorn to spill all over the girl. They cleaned the popcorn up and threw it in the nearest garbage can.