A Fights Echo: Chapter 1

Four years before.

I met Chris on fourth street new York, New York. I was passing toward Columbia University Bridge when I noticed the man, a mask on his face. At first I ignored him. People in New York are weird enough, and there wasn't much of a surprise there. I walked up the steps that lead to the connecting bridge. By the time I had gotten up all the way, I had completely forgotten about him. But he was there, on that same exact bridge, and till I saw what was in his hand, I knew he was no ordinary masked man.
At this kind of time, the sun is high, the weather is a bother, and no one likes to get off campus. Even though it was a university, it was a quiet, empty place outside. So what would he be doing on an empty bridge, a rifle in his hand? I could tell he was focused on a thing. His eyes never shifted my way. If they would have, I had the feeling that I wouldn't have been alive tell then. Without reason I walked up to where he stood, staying as far away as I can from him at the same time. First I needed to put down in my to-do list is that he was dangerous. If I was going to-and I have no idea what I'll do if I wanted to do anything- but if I had in my mind to try to do something than I better keep that little detail as a first thought.
I ended up being a couple meters behind him, having a good view of him and the empty street he was looking out at. Feeling him move, I stepped back and hit something. First thing I thought was that someone was keeping an eye for him and I'd just got caught, I turned to see it was just a cement pole that held onto the bridge. I sighed in relief and used it to help me cover up behind in case he unexpectedly turned around.
Another sudden movement came from him. I looked over to see that he had changed position. The rifle wasn't put down any more, it was aiming, at someone. I could see him, the person he was aiming at. A hooded boy, man, I had no idea. But I could tell it's a male from the way he was walking. He had no idea he was about to get shot. His chin was tucked and his eyes were nowhere near the bridge and who was on it.
My hands were tied. Everything hit me in such genuine evident facts, that I had no idea on what to do next. Should I shout out, but then there was the chance of the guy in trouble not being able to hear me. I wouldn't have fixed anything than, I would have just gotten myself killed. There was only one thing to do.
For one I wasn't scared at all. Yes I didn't know what to do. Yes, my mind was confused. But I wasn't afraid. I'm an excellent fighter. I had lived on the streets for four years now, two of them I had studied self defense and took boxing classes. The other two I did my own training on boxing bags where I lived now. Yes I was fourteen, yes my body wasn't as big as his, but I was as sure as a grave that I could take him. That's why I did what I did next.
I walked up onto the man, slow and conscious, watching every move his body made. His mind wasn't on the bridge anymore, I could tell. All of him and the rifle were focused on that person. A fact about him I realized was, he wasn't a professional killer. In fact, this probably was his first time. And that was the only thing that made the whole job of catching him from behind and pinning his arms back easy. Otherwise, it would have probably been a lot harder, not to mention aimless shooting just to scare me off.
"Drop the gun!" I yelled in his ear. He struggled to get free from my hold, thinking he might pull the trigger, I tripped him with my foot and took him face down to the ground, arms still pinned.
I had a feeling the person being aimed at had heard what was happening. He had been in ear shot by the time I had gotten to the man and pinned his arms. I was just hoping that he would pass by and hurry up in disappearing. I had no intention of calling the police. All I had wanted to do was hold up the man, wait for a couple of minutes till that person is out of sight than take the rifle and get the hell out of that place.
"Let go of the gun. Now!"
"You let go of me boy. You don't know who you messing' with" he said dryly.
He missed the point that I couldn't care-less who he was. That and the other little detail that he didn't know who he was messing with.
"I said... let GO of the gun!" he wouldn't, instead he held on tighter.
I took a quick crack at his shoulder blade.
"AWWW. SHIT." letting go of the rifle, he kept crying in pain. I hadn't meant to hit him as hard as I did. And I wasn't sorry that it was this painful either. I was just glad he had given up on the damn stacked up rifle.
I grasped it and put it as far from him as I could, then quickly I checked his pockets for any hidden guns, there were none. I grabbed the rifle and stood away from him.
Slowly, he turned so he was lying on his back. His hazel eyes looked at me for the first time, traveling up and down my body, taking in the build structure, the obvious observing of a clearly great fighter. He had an expression, one that I'm use to, one saying 'oh shit, I'm in the same corner with the wrong guy'. What bothered me were his next words. He seemed to realize things I had no idea about.
"Holy shit man," He mumbled to himself, "I didn't know Chris had a brother. Shit. Aww shit."
He was talking nonsense, that's what I thought
But the word he uttered still confused me. Chris? His brother? Why did I suddenly scare him that much? I had scared people before, that wasn't the surprise. I walk the streets and I can see fear cross whoever is in my way's face, thinking I'm walking toward them, when I'm simply passing by. So it really wasn't much of a new expression that I have seen. But tell now I hadn't seen one the same as the one this man had. The look in his eyes was pure.... Terror.
Who's Chris though? What does he have to do with anything? Whoever it was had gotten me somewhat suspicious, and curious.
"You make the slightest move and you're out." I warned him.
Seeing the serious look on my face he nodded obediently.
Keeping the rifle aimed at him, I shifted to the right side of the bridge and looked over. The person who was in danger wasn't there anymore. Weird, could he have heard the loud noises and ran.
"Don't you dare shift an inch. I'll shoot you from a mile away." I warned him again, just to be sure we had the deal down right. Carefully, without taking my eyes off him, I walked over to the left side of the bridge and took a look there.
Funny, had he left already? He sure hell seemed to have disappeared into a pile of dust.
Instead of finding him, I got a machine voice saying "26D downtown" telling me I missed the bus I was going to take. Now I'll have to wait for another hour to go back home.
I walked back to the man. I had never fired a gun before. I'm sure it isn't so hard though. My eyesight is sharp enough to dig a bullet in a flying eagle, let alone a five foot eight or so man. I wouldn't though. I have no intention of killing anything or anyone. I don't think a life is that cheap. If he had run away, I would have dismissed it and been glad that it ended that easily.
"Why did you wanna shoot him" I guessed I had the right to know. Curiosity is what mostly made me ask. This was my first time to encounter foul play that involved weapons and not fists.
The man crawled back an inch "please don't kill me. I got a baby kid. He needs me."
That had my blood boiling. I aimed the rifle at him, "and it's okay for you to go around and kill. What if he had his own family, his own children, isn't it wrong for them to live without a father?"
The man's eyes widened with the same pure terror that I'd seen on his face before. At first I thought it was because of the weapon that I suddenly was aiming at him. But it wasn't till a little later that I found out it was for a whole different reason.
A hand seized the rifle I held aiming. The same feeling of being caught licked my spine again. I snapped my head to the side to see that it was no other than the man with the hood.