Vanishing Justice

By Chris-r82

He was far enough away that he could start to relax a bit. He was a bout a quarter of a mile away from the crime scene before he heard the sirens.

What had happened was Richard had robbed a petrol station, it was around 1.10 a.m, he had been waiting for it to get quiet, as soon as it did he struck.

He had barged in wearing faded jeans, a dark t-shirt, black rain jacket along with a baseball cap and face mask.

The poor young girl behind the counter was terrified, naturally, this was only a part-time job to get her through University.

“Empty the till right now”

He raised the knife so that she knew she had no choice.

“Don’t be a hero, stick it all in here”

He threw a carrier bag at her, the kind you would pay 20p for in a supermarket.

She was trembling, she did as she was told, she just wanted this ordeal over with.

“Is that everything?” he shouted as he snatched the bag back.

The girl could only nod, tears still dripping from her cheek.

Richard enjoyed the terror he made people feel during these situations.

He had become increasingly cocksure after several successful robberies.

He begun counting his ill gotten gains down a lane .

He had counted up to £320 when…… CRACK!

What the hell was that. He turned to be greeted by the oddest looking man he had ever seen.

He was tall and slim, around 6 foot 5 wearing a black suit. His face was covered in what appeared to be black face paint with white applied around the mouth and eyes.

His looked was topped off with a black bowler hat.

“Who the hell are you?”

At these words the strange man approached Richard.

“Back the hell off”

An order that was ignored.

The mysterious stranger placed a hand on Richards shoulder and they both vanished.

Richard was never seen again.

The assault was unprovoked, Gaz had been angry, his team had been beaten by their city rivals, then his mates had bailed out on him, leaving him drinking alone in the pub.

It was a poor unsuspecting man, who did nothing more than walk passe him on the street who felt the force of his temper.

“What the hell are you looking at”?

The man turned around looking confused, and a little worried.

“I’m not looking at anything”

“Yeah you were, you were looking at me, you got a problem, we can sort it out here and now”

Gaz advanced towards him arms out in a ‘bring it on’ gesture.

“I wasn’t looking at you”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

The red mist descended now, in his mind he felt that he had been insulted, this stranger was calling him a liar.

Gaz shoved him in the chest, to his amazement this guy had the audacity to shove him back.

Gaz was not taking this, he punched him right on the cheekbone, rather than stopping there, he kicked his already stumbling victim to the ground before laying into him with kicks to the stomach and ribs.

Gaz felt no remorse for what he had just done as he made his way to the taxi rank. It had felt good, he felt strong and dominant. He took a shortcut down a side street.

CRACK!

From nowhere, what seemed to be a man appeared before him.

He was tall and slim, a couple of inches taller than Gaz, wearing a black suit, he looked like he had just come from a funeral. His face was covered in black face paint with white applied around the mouth and eyes. He also wore a black bowler hat.

Gaz froze on the spot, mouth wide open in shock as the mysterious stranger advanced.

Gaz’s last thoughts were of how useless and weak he was.

As soon as the strangers hand touched his shoulder they both vanished

Gaz was never seen again.

Gaz and Richards disappearances were a mystery to everybody, family, friends, police " nobody had answers, nor would they ever.

One thing was certain we would never see or hear from them again.

One thing that was not certain �" would we ever see the mysterious stranger again?

Time will tell.

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