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The figure took a slow drag from his cigarette, breathing in and doing his best to clear his mind from the ugly task he was given by the twisted knot in his stomach. That knot that formed when he heard the news. What kind of a man does that? What kind of sad piece of shit would do that to another human being?

His other hand was curled into a fist, blood forming in the palm of his fist. But the figure hardly cared. That wasn’t important. Only one thing was important tonight. Teaching of a lesson. Forcing a lesson into the mind of—speak of the devil and he will show. There he was.

Behind the house, with the music of the party still screaming from inside, his mark showed up. Michael Pratt was also known as Big Mike by all his friends. The hulking figure of the athlete moved away from the party, stumbling towards the parking lot. The light in this lot still hadn’t been replaced, making it a prime spot for what the masked figure had in mind. Michael opened the backdoor of the car and that was when the figure moved in.

Sagging athletic shorts stuck out of the backseat of the car and barely coherent mutters came from inside. Drunk or not, he would get his punishment tonight.

“Michael Pratt?” the masked figure said, breathing out a cloud of his lips before flicking the cigarette away.

Jumping to attention, Mike hit his head on the roof of his car and turned around. “The fuck are you? What’s with the ski mask?”

“Not important. I need to ask you a question.”

“Yeah right. Take off that mask and then we can talk.”

The figure took a step closer to Mike, and cocked his head. “I won’t be doing that. You were with Stephanie last week, right?”

Mike paused, tapping his lips with a finger. He paused before laughing and shaking his head.

“I don’t know man. Lotta bitches are after this dick, it’s hard to remember ‘em all.”

The figure sighed and took another step, invading Big Mike’s space.

“Were you, or were you not with Stephanie? You’d remember her. Shorter girl with the pixie cut and nose piercing?” The figure could hardly stand the stench of cheap booze coming from the man’s mouth but he stood his ground.

“Oh yeah. Her. Yeah. She put up a bit of a fight before she started liking it.”

The figure took a step backing, turning his back to Mike before turning back and slamming his fist into his nose. Mike stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood poured from it before getting another fist slammed into his face, this one connecting with his jaw. Mike fell down to the pavement, groaning. But the beating didn’t stop. The figure stood on Mike’s hand and kicked down at his elbow.

The screams of pain came out of Mike’s mouth were a sort of cruel vindication for the figure. This is what he wanted. He wanted this worthless man to suffer. Mike clutched his elbow, rolling onto his back and cradling the twisted appendage that shouldn’t be bent that way. But the figure didn’t stop. He screamed back at Mike, fists coming down on his face over and over, a rage of emotion and fury erupting from the man who for far too long kept this rage inside.

“Dude! Stop! Stop, please!” Mike begged, whimpering as he tried his best to block the onslaught of pain that came crashing down on his body. He was propped up with his back to the car by the stranger and a knee crashed into his face, knocking it into his car and leaving a skull-sized dent in the metal.

“I’m sure she told you the same thing. But did you stop?” The figure screamed, hitting the poor excuse of a man in the head again, knocking him to the ground.

Mike coughed up blood onto the pavement, running from his nose, from his mouth and the cuts on his head as it was battered into the ground. He looked up, tears forming in his eyes as he looked up at his assailant.

“Just stop! Please!”

The figure brought his fist into Mike’s fat cheek, snarling down at his target.

“I don’t give a shit about what you say. You’re a sad, pathetic man and this is what those who prey on others deserve.”

Grabbing Mike’s head, the figure slammed the back of his head into the car and dropped him to the ground. He was done with him.

Turning, the figure started to walk around but Mike’s words stopped him.

“Who is she to you, huh? Why do you care so much about one bitch?”

The figure turned back to face the pathetic pile of humanity on the ground. He took slow steps to stand over Mike. Bringing his foot back, he slammed it right between Mike’s legs, connecting with the egotist’s pride.

“That’s the part you’ll really like,” the masked figure grabbed Mike’s head and whispered the truth into his ear. “I don’t even know her.”

Standing, the masked figure walked away, leaving the sad, whimpering man to be found by someone who gave a damn about scum like him.

He slept like a baby that night.