The party was in full swing, all the couples danced together, the show offs took the spotlights, and the wannabes kept flailing like fish on the shore. Yep, you could say everyone was having a good time, except for one, easily jealous jerk caught some guy he didn't like talking to his girl. The innocent one here is me, yep I knew this girl since I was in preschool and we were both the best of friends, and besides, I was already here with my girlfriend who was standing right beside me.
The bully immediately made a beeline for me, I swear tossing each unlucky dance that stood in his way as if they were sheets lined up to dry. He cut in between us actually pushing the his girlfriend back and stared me dead in the eyes. The first thing he asked was "What do you think you're doing?"
I replied that I was just having a conversation with my childhood friend but he didn't care, all he heard was "I was hitting on your girl because I think you are dumb and can't do anything about it."
I know he thought he heard that because the next words out of his mouth were, "I ain't dumb! I'll show something I do to punks who hit on my girl."
My girlfriend tried to intervene at this point, she thinks at times that I can't handle myself, but he already had pushed me away from her and his girl. He asked me again about what I was trying to do and again I repeated myself, he must have lost his ear drums to the black hole that filled his head.
Anyway, he started to ball his fists (he probably already had them closed but I hadn't noticed till they were up at my face), and slugged me once in the side of my face. The people around had stared to give notice to our struggle when it started but after that hit, it was like the music died and everyone locked on to the fight.
I'm pretty sure someone was saying "Fight! Fight! Fight!" like they always do in the movies but I couldn't be sure as my hearing (as well as my vision in my left eye) became fuzzy from the impact.
The moments ticked by slowly and I heard the watery cry of alarm from my girlfriend calling my name, but the second the next hit connected with the side of my head, I didn't even hear that. I fell to the floor my head throbbing violently from the impacts and a foot went into my ribs again and again as I curled into a fetal position.
My new position took most of the damage to my arms and legs instead of my main body and I opened on eye to see what was happening. My girlfriend was coming behind the brute and she slapped him across the face. He staggered back a bit but then directed the rage at her. He said something but it was heavily slurred, presumably because of beer he had.
At the sight of his menacing walk and dangerous talking, something snapped inside of me, like a rubber band that had been stretched too far and in an instant was standing with my fists clenched and my teeth bare.
Before then I had never been in a fight, if I was challenged I refused, if I was hit, I didn't fight back. I had developed a reputation around campus that said I was tough because I would take the hits but never show a bit of weakness. But this was different. He was verbally threatening the one I love and I knew the only way to stop him was to actually fight.
I had seen plenty of action and fighting movies (what guy hasn't?) but I always thought that I would never be able to use any of the moves the people did.
I surprised myself. In a barrage of punches I landed at least three solid blows as he maneuvered his clumsy arms to defend. I landed one in the gut that made him lean forward, then I repeated his tactic on my: attack the face and landed two on both sides.
He fell to the floor like I had and coughed a bit while holding his head, now he knew what I felt. I thought for a moment that that was it, he wasn't a threat at the moment and I could leave with my girlfriend, but his friends didn't seem to think that way. Two goons jumped from the crowd and took swings at me landing decent blows to my shoulder and chest. With my temper already spiked at the big jerk's threats, I started to fight back and began to take these two out. In the process though, I began to enjoy the fighting, the blood rushing through my veins and watching them yell out in pain and fall. During this the big cheese head got back up and began to fight as well so it was three on one, and the one was getting stronger.
Then I felt it again, another thing snapped and I knew everything was different. I took a step back and knocked all three opponents to the floor with one sweep of my leg. Everything became fuzzy at this point and I could think about was hurting them, and to allow as much of my anger as I could to create bruises and marks on their faces.
You could almost say I became: demonic.
I started my assault on them, leaving them no room to attack or defend, using my fists, feet, knees, forehead, anything that I had that could hurt them. They started crying out for mercy but I gave them none. I fell upon them faster than a shadow from a dark cloud passing the sun, my desire for pain growing with each second. I knew when they all became unconscious when they fell to the floor and didn't move, but my fun had just started. My dark eyes zipped along the crowd and I turned to my next victim. Who that person was I can't say. Male? Female? Young? Old? I didn't care, I only wanted to cause pain.
As I took my slow, cruel steps, I made sure to crunch each piece of broken glass, each piece of garbage, anything that came in my path. The person must have been frozen because they didn't move. I raised one hand and laughed, a deep cruel laugh that the devil himself must have created, and threw the punch. But something happened. The fist stopped in midair inches from the nose of the target. I gave a puzzled looked to it and the fist, under its own accord, turned and hit me smack in the nose. I felt the feature collapse and the blood come gushing out of my nostrils, I knew my nose was broken.
The fist began to attack again hitting anyplace on me it could reach and, though as strong as my other hand was, the fist was stronger. I fell back against a wall, attempting to evade my own hand out of instinct but I was still getting pummeled. Blood rained from my chin now and my fist began looking like it was dipped in red syrup. I gasped and tried to pull away, to gain control of it but then it grabbed my throat.
I twisted and pulled but the grip was too strong and I actually was lifted off the ground by this possessed hand. The crowd gasped and “ah”ed and their reaction confused me, I thought it was being lifted, but instead it was the blue and white light that began to stem from the elbow of the uncontrolled arm and painted in all hues and shades into the form of myself only transparent. The ghost’s eyes stared into mine with intense focus but with a hint of understanding.
My body at this point began to feel heat the likes of which was beyond anything natural. My skin began to burn and spit flame and in an instant became a ball of fire in the hand of a spirit. My vision changed to that of the spirit and I felt my anger cool and my mind focus. Skin began to grow over my transparent skin and I stood there, in my new skin, and knew the demon was sealed for now, but for how long I had no idea.
Slowly I turned to the stunned crowd and motioned for my girlfriend to come with me. We left that party, and tried to get the events that took place, as short as they were, out of our minds.
