Resurrection

The man tore at her jogging outfit.  

Gina tried to resist, but his first blow had left her groggy and disoriented.  The bastard!  The cowardly bastard!  If he would have tried to rape her straight on, he would have never laid a hand on her without getting severely damaged himself!  Instead he leapt out of the shadows and struck her hard across her face before she had a chance to react.   

She started to cry out; weren’t rape victims told to yell “Fire” since people were more likely to respond to that call?  But at her first sound, he put a stinking hand over her mouth.  No telling where it had been.  It was so dark, she couldn’t see his face, couldn’t identify him to the police if he let her live. 

That thought made her struggle harder.  But the combination of the five miles she had already run and his physical abuse left her weak. 

Should she give in?  Let him do what he wants, and then hopefully he will leave?  No!  This creature didn’t want sex.  She had always heard that rape was an act of violence towards women and not a sexual perversion.  Most likely the man would try to hurt her some more even if she gave in. 

Her jogging pants were now around her knees.  She held them tightly together; he would have to fight for what he wanted. 

He took his hand off her mouth and struck her hard again, then again, then once more.  Now she was too tired and beaten to let out more than a whimper.  Blood began to stream down her face.  Sensing this he tore off her thin underwear.  She could hear him unzipping his pants then felt his exposed body pressing on her, trying to make penetration. 

Gina’s strength was nearly gone, she had to relent and see what happened.  Maybe he would just go away.  After all, he had already beaten her up pretty bad. 

Suddenly, the man was gone!  What had happened?  He hadn’t just gotten up on his own; it was so sudden that it seemed as if he had been lifted off of her.  

Through hazy eyes she looked up, a dim streak of light from a distant street lamp showed the man's face.  He was saying something, apparently talking to someone, but she could see nothing in front of him except a darkened spot in the night.

“We was just havin’ some fun, dude.  No need to get sore.  She’s my girlfr—”

Before he could finish the lie, she heard a strange sound, like a cat suddenly frightened by a dog, she saw her attacker’s head pitch forward into the darkness.  The wind was forcefully expelled from his body.  Then there was a hard slapping sound along with that same odd cry.  The man’s head flew back into the glare of the street light.  She could see that he was bleeding profusely.  It looked as if his nose had been broken; his lips were split as well.  He meekly put up his hands to defend himself, but the whirling spot of blackness in front of him, hit him along side the head with what looked like some type of black crooked club.  The same peculiar cry accompanied the blow.

The man flew sideways and landed, hard, in the middle of the street.  She could see him clearly now as he lay motionless. 

She fell back in sheer exhaustion and confusion.  

Soft padding steps came towards her.  The black spot she had seen was now standing over her. 

“Did he harm you, ma’am?”

The voice was that of a man.  It was deep, resonant and very calming despite her situation.  

“He hit me a couple of times, but I’ll be okay.  Who are you?” 

“Just a friend ma’am.  Get your clothes on and stay here until the police come.  I will go call them now.”

She could see nothing but the night talking to her.  Still, she some how knew the man talking to her was looking at her eyes and not her exposed flesh. 

“But…”

“Don’t worry about him, ma’am.  The only place he is going to is the hospital, then to jail for a long time.”

“Will you at least tell me your name?” 

The darkness seemed to hesitate; then it spoke, the deep voice cracking somewhat, as a black, glove covered hand, touched her softly on top of the head, “My name is nothing, ma’am since I am nothing.  I exist only in the night, by day I am the walking dead.”

He stopped short at that.  He seemed to be thinking, his hand was still stroking her hair. 

“Don’t be afraid of the night ma’am.  It can be a comforting cocoon for those who just wish to hide from the light.  Remember that not all who dwell there are evil.  If you prepare for the darkness, it will sustain you.”       

With that, the murky shape sprinted into the night. 

She did as instructed.

***********************************************

Damn reporters!  They were having fun at her expense again!  The “Dark Night”, as some joker dubbed him, had struck once more, this time saving an old man from being mugged while putting four armed hoodlums in the jail’s hospital ward.  So, yet again, the newspapers were erroneously crediting her with giving the man his nickname. 

By the time the police arrived, apparently summoned by her rescuer as he had promised, she had recovered enough to get dressed.  She was hurt, but not critically so.  A policeman took her to the hospital in his patrol car; her assailant went in an ambulance.  When she heard that he might not walk again, Gina thought that it was a pity he would live at all. 

At the hospital she did her best to tell the officer what had happened.  She could not give any description of the man who saved her, except to describe his voice and say he was wearing something that made him appear “darker than the night”.  A reporter, with too much time on his hands, must have gotten a hold of the statement and the next day it was headline news. 

The cretin that had attacked her didn’t help either.  He kept telling anyone that would listen to him, especially reporters, that he was an innocent victim.  He claimed that he was just walking along when he came upon Gina and a man having sex.  The man got enraged at him for interrupting them and the proceeded to beat him up.  He was unconscious after that and didn’t know where the man had run off to, nor could he remember his face well enough to describe him. 

The police locked him up until they could sort everything out. 

Meanwhile the papers wrote what he said and what she said.  Soon people began debating the “truth” while completely ignoring the facts that someone had beaten her badly and that her real boyfriend, Damon, proved that he was nowhere in the vicinity when she was attacked.

Now even Damon was gone.  Not only had he grown tired of having to vindicate himself to people who preferred an easy lie to the truth, he was beginning to wonder if Gina really had been with another man that night as her attacker was saying. 

As mindless as this sounded, even to him, he could not get over his doubts. 

He was angry with her and blamed her for the whole mess.  In a moment of insanity, he went so far as to accuse of her running at night just so she could get raped.  He acted as if she wanted to be humiliated and brutalized.  He accused her of having a suppressed rape fantasy and this was a way to get what she wanted.

After that, she was glad he had gone.  It took an ugly incident like this to show her what a pig he really was.      

The rest of Gina’s life was going to hell, too.  She no longer ran at night; she no longer ran at all.  The loneliness that accompanied long distance running was more than she could bear even in broad daylight and she wanted to be around people—as long as it was light enough to show their faces.  Before darkness fell each night, she went home and locked herself in her apartment.  She didn’t answer the door and if anyone called they got her machine. 

Soon, problems began to erupt at her work, too.  There were the gossipers, the doubters, and the catty women who were jealous of her good looks.  They felt just like her ex-boyfriend: she had wanted it but after luring a rapist to her, she was too afraid to go through with it.  They whispered that she must have fought off her attacker then made up the whole "Dark Night" tale.  For these people, thinking was not a prerogative when there was a good story on which to speculate.

Still, she could almost excuse people like them since they were the ones that always saw malevolence in everyone.  The worse ones were the people who resented her forced “celebrity”.  After all, they said, it was only an attempted rape. Outside of a few cuts and bruises she was fine, so what was she whining about? How come her name was always in the paper, they asked?

Her boss, Mr. Marathe, was an older man who knew her well; he dismissed all of the gossip while comforting her as best he could.  Anything she needed, time off for the doctor or police, help with avoiding prying reporters, assistance with the company's insurance people, anything at all, he was there to help. He had always treated her like a daughter and now she appreciated it more than ever.

But he could only do so much. She began to have fits of depression, which made her listless and caused her mind to wander.  She couldn't sleep with the lights off and very little with them on.  Every time she heard that her rescuer had saved another person, she fell deeper into depression as she longed for his touch. She wished that she could find the man and keep him to herself where he could always be besides her, protecting her, while telling her it was okay to go out into the night.

But no one could find him and as winter approached, the heavens and the Earth conspired to spin a cocoon of enveloping darkness that made the nights last longer. As it did, he became more active. There were times when he seemed to be everywhere at once. Each time he helped someone, a gaggle of reporters called her as if she could miraculously tell them who he was.

Suicide was beginning to sound like a good option to her—especially with the trial looming before her.

***********************************************

When they wheeled in the coward who had attacked her, Gina was nearly sick.  Olivia, one of the Detectives assigned to her case, sat with her in court, patted her hand and whispered words of encouragement.  She told her that with the evidence they had against her attacker, it would be short trial and there was no way that he would go free. 

She was right, of course. 

The Assistant District Attorney’s DNA verification showed that the blood on the defendant’s clothing belonged to Gina.  There were also traces of skin from Gina’s face on his knuckles. 

Then there was the overworked, uncaring, public defender who represented the creep.  He was a round faced, squat man, who performed his duties as if he had just graduated from law school a month ago.  Though obviously young, he moved with a great deal of huffing and puffing as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. 

When the slimy little man cross-examined Gina about her past sex life, she felt violated all over again.  She could tell that the jury did not like it either.  Many of the people looked like they wanted to come out of the jury box and kick the man real hard. 

Fortunately, though Gina enjoyed sex as much as any other healthy woman did, she was neither promiscuous nor very experienced.  In her 20 some years, she had only had two sex partners with Damon playing that role for the past 3 years.  So, the questioning did not last long. 

The only thing that was missing from the trial was the testimony of the Dark Night who had saved her.  Naturally, the newspapers were playing this up big. 

In print they challenged him to come forward, to show himself, to prove that Gina did not just make him up.  He never showed.  Gina was glad because he would have, most likely, been arrested due to his nightly activities.  But, of course, she was sad because she almost frantically wanted to meet him. 

However, the fact that she had been saved by him never came up in court.  The Public Defender continued to, absurdly, contend that Gina had been having sex with “another man” when his client stumbled upon them and was then beaten by the man.  Who the man was, they had no clue and no case.

It took the jury one hour to convict her attacker. 

As Olivia walked Gina out of the courthouse, she told her that is was now time for her to get back to her life and put all this behind her.

Gina hoped that she would have the strength to do that.

***********************************************

It was the start of another miserable day.  Gina reluctantly stumbled out of bed, went through the motions of bathing, brushing her teeth, combing her hair. None of it mattered, the pallor her skin had taken on made her look hideous no matter what. She knew it; she didn't care.

 

Fitting into her clothes was getting more difficult each day as well. Eating take out or delivery food all the time was adding pounds to her small frame. This added weight made her look frumpy and disheveled all the time.  She had thought about buying new clothes, be she had pretty much given up on shopping for anything.  Lately she couldn’t stand to go anywhere, day or night, where there were other people.  She knew they were all looking at her and talking about her behind her back—she just knew it!  So she avoided people.  Her boss was kind enough to let her start working from home whenever possible, but some days she just had to go in and face her co-workers.  Today was one of those days. 

She picked up her car keys and hesitantly approached the door.  First she looked out the peephole to see if anyone was waiting for her.  All clear.  Softly, so as to avoid any noise, she unhitched her chain lock, the dead bolt, and turned the doorknob.  She threw it open while holding her keys like a weapon, ready to strike out at any hidden attackers.  As she stepped out, her foot kicked something that went scuttling out in front of her.  It was an envelope. 

Picking it up, she saw her name neatly printed on it in clean block lettering.  Probably something from one of those annoying reporters, she thought, even though she consciously knew they had pretty much been leaving her alone for that last few months. 

Should she open it?  Maybe her attacker had gotten out of jail and was after her now? 

Going back into her apartment, she sat on her couch and slit the envelope open with her thumbnail. 

There was a brochure in it for a local martial arts studio with the exotic name of Way of Orient.  It was a rather plain looking production, obviously done at a cut-rate printer.  Opening it, she read the usual sales pitch about why one should train to protect oneself, how martial arts prepare the body and mind for any type of daily activity, and more. 

However, the person who left the information for her had taken the trouble to circle one particular offering from the school.  Highlighted was a special class of self-defense for women. 

 

This item made her mind race back to the night that had started her on her downward spiral.  If she had been trained, would it have changed anything?  Most likely not since her attacker took her by surprise.  She felt like tearing the thing up, but something made her hesitate.  She wasn’t sure why, but something from that night and this brochure seemed to be connected.  Realizing she would be late for work—again—she slipped the paper into her purse and ran out the door.

*******************************************************

All day at work she thought about the brochure.  Every now and then she would take it out and read it over.  The school was not too far from her home but the class for women’s self-defense was held at night.  She couldn’t take them. 

Mr. Marathe saw her looking the information over and inquired about it so she let him read it.  After seeing the part about the self-defense for women, he insisted she leave work immediately and go sign up for the class.  She thanked him, but said she needed to think about it a little more, which she did for the rest of the day.

*******************************************************

As Gina walked down the steps to the underground studio, a series of noises assaulted her ears. They were cries of the most unusual and assorted variety.

Peering in the window next to the studio door, she could see line of students, dressed in loose fitting white, black, or red outfits.  They were facing a large man who was leading them through a series of punching and kicking motions.  With each motion, the students let out a yell. 

After a few minutes, the instructor let the students stand at ease while instructing them to break up into groups to practice with each other.  At his shouted command, they did as they were told. 

Then he turned and looked directly at her.  He motioned for her to come in. 

Hesitantly, she opened the door and entered. 

“How did you like the drills?” the man asked, coming towards her, but not extending his hand. 

When he stood in front of her, she realized that though the man was “big”, he was not particularly tall, nor did he look the type to be taking a martial arts class much less teaching one.  On the street, she would have thought of him as a construction worker.  His hair was thinning, though he looked young, and his girth was more than some of the men in her office who she considered lazy. 

He motioned her toward two large chairs located to one side of the doors. 

“My name is Master Seventy, Kurt Seventy.  What brings you to my studio?” 

Suddenly a fracas broke out on the floor.  Two students were fighting as the rest looked on.  Master Seventy, not even turning his head to look, shouted something out in a foreign language.  The fight stopped immediately.  She must have looked very surprised. 

“Things can get a little out of hand here as we try to learn with and from each other.  The rule is that if you fight, full contact, without protective gear, you must fight me next.  You may be surprised how little this happens.” 

He smiled and she felt instantly more comfortable. 

“Now, how may I help you?” 

Gina fished the brochure out of her purse and handed it to him. 

“Did we send this to you?” he asked while looking it over, “This is one of our direct mail pieces.” 

“No.  Someone gave it to me”  

“Oh?  A student of mine?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if your friend is a student?” 

“I don’t know who it was.  It was left on by my front door anonymously…”

Her face must have shown that this was disturbing to her in some way. 

“However you came about this,” he said soothingly, “I am glad you came in.  Is there anything in particular that you are interested in?”

“I wanted to talk to you about the women’s self-defense class.  Are they only held at night?” 

Master Seventy gave here a curious look, “Yes, I am afraid there is not enough of a demand that would warrant me teaching it more than once per week.  I wish that were not the case.  It is a very valuable class for women looking to defend themselves but not particularly interested in more intensive training.”

“Oh.  Well then thank you for your time,” Gina replied as she stood to go.

“Please sit.” Master Seventy said. 

Though his tone was gentle, Gina felt the command in his voice.  She sat back down.

“Can you tell me why you cannot attend the class at the stated time?  Perhaps I can work something out for you?” 

“It’s held at night.” 

Master Seventy seemed not surprised by this response.  He said nothing.

“I don’t like going out at night.” Gina whispered, embarrassed with herself, “I am afraid of the dark.”

“I won’t ask your reasons for this.” Master Seventy replied, “That is not my affair.  What is my concern is that we get you to where you are afraid no longer.”

“How would we do that?” 

He looked at her quietly for a moment.  His eyes went up and down her body as if examining her for damages.  She began to squirm a little under his intense gaze. 

“You look fit.  Perhaps you should take regular classes?  I have two Saturday morning sessions where I let a younger teacher take over the class while I work individually with special students.  Would you be interested in that?” 

This would mean going out among people, Gina thought.  But then it would only mean going here to this place where it seemed relatively safe with Master Seventy present and it would be in the daytime.  Perhaps she should take a chance; it had been a long time now.  She needed to break out of her self-imposed confinement and this seemed like a natural way to do it.

“How do I sign up?” she asked.

*********************************************************

Gina’s bones ached as she soaked in a hot bath.  It had been a long time since she had taken part in any kind of physical activity much less the kind she had gone through the previous day.  Now she could understand how one person could severely damage another person if they used the proper techniques.  She felt like hell and the people at the school had been nice to her!

She had enjoyed being around other people in their fighting clothes or “ghis” as they called them.  She blushed at the last thought.  Having never worn one of these outfits, she didn’t realize exactly how loose they were until Master Kurt (as the younger students referred to him) had softly thrown her during rolling drills.  Next time she will be sure to where a t-shirt underneath it! 

She smiled at how easily she thought about the “next time”.  This meant getting out of her apartment and being among people.  For the first time in many months, she did not cringe at the idea as long as it meant being with the people at Way of Orient. 

Getting dressed, she made a vow to get back into the kind of shape she had been in before her attack.  She was determined to continue with the classes until she knew she could defend herself from any assault.  Her inspiration came not from Master Kurt, though, it came from the kids in the class, especially the young girls, some as young as seven years old.  She wondered what would have happened that night if she had been in training since such a young age.  She smiled at the vision. 

*********************************************************

Saturday’s could not come soon enough and before long the weeks of Gina’s life that fell between them became meaningless.  Her existence now revolved around her Tai Kwon Do lessons at Way or Orient.  The strength and stamina, along with the nice figure she once had, were returning to her which each passing week.  Her boss noticed the gradual change, and commended her on it, since she was now going into the office every day like all the other drones.  Whether it was her newfound confidence in her step and stature or just the passing of time no one mentioned her near rape anymore. 

Even her hero’s actions didn’t get that much of a mention anymore.  He was still operating and still the law had not been able to take him into custody.  Though, privately, she thought that they were not trying too hard anymore: the crime rate in town had been dropping steadily since he’d appeared.  The only odd thing was that no one, besides her, had spoken to him.  This made Gina felt special in a strange and curious way.    

*********************************************************

Master Kurt gaped in open wonder—for a few seconds—then he greeted Gina in the warm way he always did.  It was Wednesday night when Gina had walked out of her apartment, gotten into her car, and then drove to the school for a class.  He had never seen her out after dark since this was the first time since her attack she had ventured out without the Sun showing her the way. 

Gina almost laughed at the surprise look on Master Kurt’s face.  Instead, she gave him a big bear hug since it was he who had finally set her free.

As she stepped back from him, she heard a sound that made her jump. 

“Are you okay?” Master Kurt asked.

“That sound.  What was it?”

Then she heard it again, this time repeated in rapid fashion.

Master Kurt stepped aside, nodding his head towards the far back corner of the room where a man was practicing alone.  His hands and feet looked like blurred streaks as he punched and kicked at the air in front of him.  The viciousness of his blows scared her as she thought about what was happening to his imaginary foe.  The look on his cruel, yet oddly handsome, face was one of total concentration. 

“That is his ki ai; you have heard “spirit shouts” before.  You are developing a nice one yourself.”

“But…but I have heard that one before.” 

“That is not possible, Gina.  It must have been one that sounded similar.  He only comes in on Wednesday night and this is your first evening visiting us.” 

“No, I have heard that one before; I have to talk to him.”

As she made her way past, Master Kurt put a firm, but gentle hand on her. 

“No.  You must never talk to that man.”  It was a command. 

“He practices here on special conditions.  I honor his wishes, as it is a tribute to have him in my modest school.  He only asks that he be left alone.”

“I know who he is.” Gina asserted. 

At that Master Kurt assumed a look and stance she had never seen before.  He seemed to rise up and tower over her.  His voice was low, clear and commanding. 

“No Gina.  You do not know who he is.”

He turned and walked away signaling the end of the discussion.

*********************************************************

 After that, Gina never missed a Wednesday night or a Saturday morning.   Accordingly, her expertise rose rapidly.  Soon she was making her way quickly through the belt ranks; she had even entered and won a school-sponsored tournament, which helped her advance more swiftly in rank.  Finally she arrived at the Brown Belt level; the level Master Kurt called the “doorway to the upper ranks”.   She was thinking of stopping there, but after she thought about her long isolation—which seemed like a distant nightmare now—plus the time and effort she put into her studies, she decided to go on.

Fourteen, long, hard months later, she was ready to test for her Black Belt. 

On the morning of the test, Gina could not sit still.  She helped Master Kurt with testing of the lower belt ranks and ran errands as needed.  Finally Master Kurt pulled her aside.

“Gina, you need to slow down.  The Black Belt test is five hours long.  As you know, it is as much a test of stamina as it is skill.   You need to save your energy.”

“I will be fine, Master Kurt.  I have so much adrenaline flowing now I could knock down brick walls.”

“And what happens when the adrenaline runs out, Gina?  Maybe in the middle of the test?  Then what?  No, you need to sit, now.”

With that pulled her to a corner chair and handed her a refreshing drink.  As soon as she sat, she realized he had been right.  She was fatigued more than she realized. 

For the next two hours, she watched the testing.  She always enjoyed seeing the young girls perform.  They were often so limber and quick that they could throw amazingly fast and high kicks, some of which may have even rocked Master Kurt if they could connect. 

Finally the Black Belt candidates were called to the testing area.  The five of them, including Gina, were greeted with warm applause. 

Master Kurt led the drills.  During the kicking, punching, falling and seemingly endless forms drills, she never lost focus.  She was so focused, that she did not see “him”, as she came to think of her Wednesday night mystery man, come in.  He was dressed in a new jet-black ghi.  Over the months, she had wanted to approach him, but Master Kurt, apparently able to sense when she was weakening, would take her aside and admonish her. 

Finally, in the fifth hour, came the fighting test where she had to take on four opponents at once.  She was third up, so she was able to rest and watch as the other two candidates fought Master Kurt and three other Black Belts.  They both acquitted themselves well.  She was sure they would pass.   

As she stood to approach the fighting floor, the crowd became very quiet.  She thought it was because of the fact that she was the only female contestant.  Consequently she was shocked when her mystery man stepped on to the floor to face off against her. 

While bowing deeply towards him, Master Kurt, and two other students, Gina had a great urge to run out the door.  Her knees were weak, and she felt a little dizzy.  But there was no time for that, as soon as she straightened up, they were on her.  This wasn’t fair, she thought!  The others had some time for introductions.  Irrationally, she thought Master Kurt was making it especially hard on her because she was a woman.  As illogical as that thought was, she was angry as she dodged and parried the kicks and punches of her attackers. 

She had one great advantage over the other fighters, though.  She was much lighter and thus very fast on her feet.  Her runner’s legs had also returned to her allowing her to dance on her toes without ever getting weary.  As she swiftly danced around in alternating circles, she worked to line up her opponents in a row so she only faced one fighter at a time.  The first person she met in this formation was Master Kurt. 

She leapt, higher than she ever thought she could, and caught him with a flying sidekick to the chest—much to his surprise.  This brought a thunderous round of applause from the crowd.  As she landed, she danced between the other two students while they still were dazzled by her leap.  She punched the one in front of her three times then launched a back sidekick at the one behind her that sent him flying.  Before she could turn her attention back to “him”, she felt a thump on the side of her head.  The blow made her lose her balance sending her, hard, to the floor.   In anticipation of the next attack, she flipped to her back and kicked blindly up at the oncoming figure, sending it sprawling to the floor on its backside. 

She quickly stood in readiness for the next attack, which did not come. 

If possible, the hush on that came over the crowd was even quieter than before.   Sitting on his backside before her was her mystery man.  She bowed to her opponents.  The crowd erupted.

Master Kurt came forward and shook her hand.  The test was over.

*********************************************************

“I know who you are.”

He turned, almost as if he had been expecting her.

“I know that, Gina.  I’m sure you have known for a long time.” 

“How do you know my name?  Master Kurt would never let me talk to you.” 

“I saw it in the paper—many times—not that long ago…”

The memories of those days came flooding back to Gina like a nightmare scenario.  She had all but forgotten those times.  They seemed to be in a past life remembered. 

“Why?” she had to know. 

After all this time, it was her only question for him. 

“It was an accident really, Gina.  I didn’t go out on that night looking to save anyone.  I had just been prowling the streets in my Ninja gear as I had been doing since—since a time past.  Seeing the situation you were in, though, I couldn’t let it continue.  Afterward, I felt so good about what I did, I did it again.  Now, I will continue to do it until it is stops feeling good.”

“Or until you’re killed!” she lunged forward and hugged him tight. 

His hand went up to the top of her head and stroked her hair as he had done the first night they had met.  His touch was soft and gentle.  Gina buried her face even deeper in his chest.  She was crying profusely, her tears soaking the front of his ghi.  She loved him desperately. 

“If I am, it is of no consequence, Gina.  As I told you once, I only exist in the night, by day I am the walking dead.”

Gina looked up at him, “Why do you say that?  What makes you to say such a thing? You are so alive in my eyes.”

“But I am not Gina.  I am only alive on the outside.  What you see is a shell, an empty shell…” 

“No!  You’re not.  I can feel your heart beating, I can hear you breathing, and I can see the intelligence in your eyes.  You are more alive than any man I have ever met and you saved me, not once, but twice.”

He gazed knowingly at her. 

“I thought you had figured that out.” 

“Yes, after I saw you here and realized who you are, I knew that you were the one who left the school’s brochure at my door step.  How did you know?”

“I had been watching you.  I wanted to make sure you were all right.  When I realized what was happening with you—not leaving your apartment after dark or going to work—I knew I had saved your sweet body only.  You mind now needed to be rescued.” 

When he mentioned her body, she snuggled it up closer to him.  She felt him react to it.  Now it was he who needed saving.

“And you did.  More than that, you improved me.  You lead me to a path where, if I worked hard enough, I could redeem myself.  I have never felt so alive.  You must stay with me now.  You must stop saying you’re dead, yet alive.  I love you so much.” 

She felt his strong body relax somewhat.  His lips came down on top of her head and kissed it softly.  He began to cry. 

“What happened to you to make you feel that way?  It must have been something terrible.” 

“My wife—“

He was married?

“My wife was killed by a rapist.” 

Gina’s mind reeled.  What kinds of forces were in play here?  Was she and this man just a pair of puppets whose strings were being manipulated by the erratic hands of fate?  She held him tighter.  

“I couldn’t save her the way I saved you.  I wasn’t at home when the man forced his way into our house then raped and murdered her.  So when I saw you with that beast on top of you, I felt that I had been given a second chance in some way.” 

“Yes!” Gina cried out, “You have been given a second chance.  Just as I’ve been given another chance.  That’s why you have to go on living.  You have to stop taking these wild chances.”

“You have to know I can’t stop, Gina.  Not even for you.  I won’t stop until I have expended all of my hate towards the kind of man that killed my wife, the kind of man that will prey upon only the weak.  I am showing them all what it is like to be on the other side.” 

Gina understood this.  She had wanted to go out and kill a rapist, robber, or murderer—any criminal—after she had been attacked. 

Still, she loved him so.

“They’ll never learn.  You can stop as many as you dare in your lifetime, but you won’t stop them all since they will keep coming as long a man survives on this planet.  These people are acting on a function of what we are and were animals, all of us.  Yes we have higher thought processes, we can build a world of wood and steel, we can make love, create war, go to other planets, we can do all these things, but we can never stop being what we are.  We are animals no more, no less, no matter how you dress it up.”

“Would you really have me stop, Gina?” 

Yes, she thought!

“No.  I mean, I don’t know.  I understand, I really do, but I don’t want to lose you.  I don’t know what to do.” 

“Then let’s not make any decisions now, Gina.  Let’s go home and talk more about it.  Then we can decide when our minds are clearer.” 

“Yes”, she replied, “let go home…to your home?” 

“Yes, Gina, for tonight, my home.” 

She kissed him passionately. 

“Okay, your place tonight, my place tomorrow night…”

*********************************************************

Kurt slowly shook his head as he read the morning paper.  It looks like he would have to talk to his prize students again on Wednesday night.  He had to show them that they were playing the wrong game.  That someday they may regret it more than they now realize.  Still, there were nights when he had a great urge to join them…

*********************************************************

The Ventura Valley Times

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On the Internet: www.tvvt.com                        Saturday, March 19, 2005              Copyright 2005 / 97 pages     35 cents

The Dark Night Takes a Mate?  

Confirming earlier rumors, the so-called "Dark Night"

vigilante appears to have taken a mate.

 

Last night, on opposite sides of town, two attacks

on law-abiding citizens were thwarted within mere

minutes of each other consequently confirming that

there are now two denizens of the night menacing

nocturnally inclined criminals. 

 

The perpetrator on the east side claims to have struck

his attacker and swore that he heard a woman cry out. 

The two teenage girls that he was assaulting   

confirmed his story.  Police plan further interrogation

of the man once his condition is stabilized.   

 

Gina Hendricks, who was the first person to benefit

from the original vigilante’s actions, was not available

for comment before we went to press.

(See Dark Night, Page A28) 

END