I'll Take Care of You

by orvette

Copyright© 2017 by orvette

Fiction Story: A deranged man kills people and thinks he is doing a good thing. A mobsters kills the mans girlfriend and he wants revenge.

Tags: Ma/Fa   Fiction   Crime   Violent  

John woke up from a dream, he couldnʼt remember the dream, he just remembered he had a dream. He never could recall his dreams. He lay there for a short while, got up, went into the bathroom and used the toilet. He felt good again and he knew he didnʼt need his medicine again today. He opened the medicine cabinet and looked inside. He saw his medication and gave a little laugh. He didnʼt hear voices and he wasnʼt depressed, he wasnʼt like the other wackos at the doctors office. He had a doctors appointment in a few days, so he was going to have to start taking the stuff again, but today he was in control and didnʼt need it.

He showered and shaved. Then he looked into the mirror and said to himself “what face do I want to put on today?” He tried a few different looks and settled on what he felt was the perfect one. He dressed and went into the kitchen and made himself a bowl of cereal. While he sat there he started thinking about where he was going today. The face he wore determined what he was going to do. He was going on a field trip. He decided on the suburbs. They were always nice this time of year. He put his bowl in the sink, he would get to it later. Right now he had plans to make.

He went into the living room, grabbed his tool bag and sat back on the couch. He pulled out his map, opened it and looked at it for a long time. There were little red dots in lots of different places. He remembered each one of the dots. He said to himself “I havenʼt been out to Sundale yet.” He smiled to himself as he put the map back into the bag. He got up, walked over to the full length mirror hanging on the wall near the door.

He looked into it and stripped to his shorts. He flexed his muscles and liked what he saw. He was in great shape and was tougher and stronger than he looked.

He thought about what had happened two days ago. He had been at the martial arts studio. He had felt good for two days before that. He was using the heavy bag practicing kicks and body punches. Tim came to where he was and pushed him out of the way and started using the bag. John looked at him and politely said “excuse me I was using that.”

Tim looked at him and said “ Hey no belt, Iʼm a black belt, if you want a beating just keep on talking.”

John grabbed Timʼs arm just as he making a punch. Tim looked at John and said

“have you lost your mind fool?” as he shook Johnʼs hand off.

John said again very politely “I was using that bag. I would like to finish my workout.”

The instructor saw something was going on so he walked over. He stood there a moment with his hands on his hips, and asked “what is going on you two?”

Without taking his eyes off Tim, John said “I was using the bag, he came over and pushed me out of the way. All I want to do is finish my workout and then go home. He can use it as much as he wants then.”

The instructor looked at Tim and said “that seems reasonable to me, do you have a problem with that?”

Tim looked at the instructor and said “heʼs a no belt. I am a black belt, he should give way to his superiors” as he pointed to John.

The instructor raised his eyebrows in surprise. He looked at Tim and said “I have tried and tried to teach you the reason for martial arts. It is not to bully people. It is for self defense only and to help those who are not as strong as you. But I havenʼt been able to teach you that. Maybe it is time you learn your mouth can get you into big trouble.”

Tim looked at the instructor with a bit of surprise on his face. He didnʼt know what he was getting at. He thought the instructor was going to challenge him to a fight or something like that. While he was a black belt, he wasnʼt sure he could take the instructor and didnʼt want to find out.

The instructor looked at John and said “you up for this?”

John just smiled and nodded his head once.

Tim looked from the instructor to John and back then smiled in understanding.

The instructor called all of the students and put them in a circle. He looked each one in the eye and said “I donʼt teach martial arts so you can bully people. When you get the higher belts I expect a certain level of mental and physical restraint. What we have here is a man who earned his black belt a while ago. While he has the necessary physical skills he still hasnʼt learned the mental restraint that goes with those skills. I have tried to teach you to use your skills to help people not hurt. However Tim thinks that because he has a black belt everyone should bow to him, or at the very least they should get out of his way. Tonight a man refused to get out of his way. So there is going to be a demonstration tonight. Tim thinks because John doesnʼt have a belt he isnʼt worth respect. John believes even if he doesnʼt have a belt he deserves respect. There is only one way to settle this.”

John and Tim had taken opposite sides of the ring and stood waiting for the speech to end. John had calmed himself and had done all of the mental exercises he was taught, he was ready, and he was feeling good. Inside and out he was calm. He knew the adrenaline would only help once the fight started. He looked at Tim who was bouncing on the balls of his feet. John smiled at him, he knew he was in complete control.

The instructor stepped back to ring formed by the students. He looked at John and Tim, then said “OK go for it.”

Tim immediately attacked. He threw punches and kicks. John blocked some of them, ducked some of them, but some of them found their mark. John thought to himself,

“tomorrow Iʼm going to hurt, but tonight the adrenaline keeps me from feeling it.”

The students were cheering and booing. They were also shouting advice to both fighters. John kept sliding his feet, keeping at least one foot in contact with the mat at all times. He kept just out of Timʼs reach. Tim kept attacking and trying to move into strike range. After a few minutes Tim was breathing hard. He started missing more and more, he noticed his arms were getting heavy. He realized he was getting tired, and he had better end this soon. He renewed his attack and started throwing more punches and kicks. John watched all of this. This was going just the way he had planned. He knew Tim couldnʼt keep up this level of attack much longer, then it would be his turn. He kept moving back just at the edge of Timʼs of reach. He kept blocking and dodging the strikes.

Tim was having a hard time breathing, and his arms were getting so heavy. He decided to grab John and give himself some breathing space. He grabbed John in a bear hug, pinning both arms to his side. John reared his head back and head butted Tim right in the nose. Timʼs nose immediately spurted blood. Tim howled in pain and dropped John.

The students grew quiet looked at the instructor expecting him to stop the fight. The instructor looked at them and said, “if you are getting mugged and get a bloody nose, what are you going to do? Are you going to say, well I have a bloody nose we need to stop. No you keep on fighting. This is the same thing, you have to learn to fight through the pain.”

Once Tim let go, John went on the attack. He started throwing punches and kicks.

Unlike Timʼs attack, Johnʼs hit the mark more often than not. A few minutes later Timʼs eye was starting to swell shut and he had a fat lip.

Just as the instructor was getting ready to stop the fight John hit Tim hard and knocked him down.

The instructor went over to Tim and looked at him, “you OK,” he said as he got on one knee. Tim looked up at him and growled “Iʼm fine, I want to finish this!” and started to get to his feet.

The instructor gently pushed him back on the mat and told him to lay there for now.

Then he looked at the circle of students.

“Just because someone doesnʼt wear a certain color belt doesnʼt mean they areʼt deserving of your respect. John here doesnʼt wear a colored belt, but I dare say he could beat several of you at the same time. Let this serve as a lesson. You need to have the mental maturity as well as the psychical skill to move up into the higher belts.”

Then he looked at Tim and said “I hope you learned a lesson tonight. If you have then, come back. If you havenʼt find a new studio, I donʼt teach bullies.”

John stood in front of the mirror and saw the night as if it was happening again right in front of him. Just then a horn blared outside and shook him out of his revelry.

Johns eyes refocused on his image. He smiled and looked at the few bruises he had from the fight. “I may have a bruise or two, but Tim will not be able to see out of that eye for at least two more days. He has a fat lip and lots more pain.” As John talked to himself he gave a little laugh.

He shook his head then redressed, grabbed his tool bag, went out the door and down the street and caught the bus. As he rode toward Sundale he watched the sun come up and thought again what a beautiful day this was going to be.

When he got to Sundale he walked along and marveled at the clean sidewalks. The suburbs always had clean sidewalks. Where he lived the sidewalks were almost black they were so dirty. They had years of accumulated vomit, urine, spit, blood and gum on them. These sidewalks were so bright he thought they might blind him. He liked the burbs. The nice neat houses with their neat lawns and gardens. Everything seemed perfect, except he knew what happened when the husbands were away. The sluts who lived in those neat houses cheated on their husbands every day. He walked on muttering to himself. When he got to the corner he realized he was getting upset. He was shaking and when he talked spit flew out of his mouth. He felt good and when he felt good he was in control, but he was losing control. He stopped and got himself back under control.

Once he had himself back under control he walked on. He saw the school as soon as he came around the corner. He liked elementary schools. He like watching the kids going into the school. They were just at the age where they were getting their first taste of independence. When they first got to kindergarden, the moms would drop them off and they would run into the school. The older kids werenʼt to the age where they knew everything yet. They could still be taught, and he loved teaching them. He was proud that he was the one who taught some of them about how the world works.

He had watched kids before. He knew he had to keep moving. When he did that no one paid any attention. If he looked like just another working stiff, he could hang out and watch the parents drop off the innocents without raising any suspicions.

He moved on when school started. He walked around the neighborhood for some time.

Finally he came up to a park where there were several mothers with their children. He watched for a short while, then he caught sight of her. A perfect little girl. she had brown hair that came to just below her ears, he liked brown hair. She had on a cute pants and matching shirt set, and she had the cutest athletic shoes. they were brown soled with pink tops.

He watched her and her mother play for a long time. Finally the mother called to her and they left the park. As they walked down the street to their home the little girl would hold her mothers hand for awhile. Then she would see something like a flower or a bug that caught her interest and she would run off to investigate. John liked the little high laugh she had. He liked being around kids when they laughed, it made the world right.

John walked at a distance, so the little girl and her mother had no idea he was following them.

The little girl skipped and and did little spins. John could tell she was young enough to not have any worries or cares. As John walked behind them he swung his tool bag and whistled to himself.

When the mother and little girl turned up a driveway John kept walking past. He looked at the house. He said to himself, “yep, just the kind of house I suspected.” It was blue with white trim. There were low bushes lining the front of the house. There wasnʼt a sidewalk, just a driveway. He noticed the roses on the side of the house. He saw there was a fence around what appeared to be a back yard.

He walked two houses down and turned up the driveway. They didnʼt have a garage and there werenʼt any cars in the driveway. So he walked up to the gate and let himself in the back yard. He hopped the fence heading for the little girls house. He didnʼt want to hurry too much. He guessed the girl would take a nap before lunch. But before that she would have a snack. So he had time to kill before he payed his visit. As he jumped the second fence he was greeted by a large dog. He had moved so quickly and quietly he had surprised the sleeping dog. As the dog saw John drop down to the lawn he started barking and then charged John. John stood there and watched the dog charge him. He was in control, so he was calm. Just as the dog jumped for Johns chest he stepped out of the way. As the dog flew past John grabbed his tail. He used the dogs momentum and swung the animal into the fence. The dog made a little yelp and went limp. John looked at the unconscious dog and jumped the fence into the little girls yard.

He stole across the yard and peeked into the window. He was looking into a kitchen area. The slut was the only one he could see. “So much the better, it will make the lesson that much easier,” he thought to himself.

He moved out of sight of the window and opened his tool bag. He pulled out the paper painters overalls and the latex gloves. When he went on field trips he always made sure he had the right tools. He slipped into the overalls and gloves. He watched CSI so he knew what the police would be looking for. He was sure not to step into the dirt, that way they wouldnʼt have footprints to make plaster casts of. He smiled to himself, he was in control.

He grabbed his tool bag and moved up to the window again. He looked in and almost cried out. The slut was kissing some guy in the kitchen! Here she was, getting ready to do some guy in the kitchen while her husband worked hard to make money. John sat there for a minute longer feeling his rage growing.

“Iʼm really going to like giving this lesson,” he thought to himself.

He reached into his tool bog and got his lock pick. When he opened the door he was sure the slut and the man hadnʼt heard him. As he moved into the kitchen he grabbed his sap from his tool bag. What he saw almost made him gag! The slut was up against the counter with the guy leaning in and kissing her. At least they both had all of their clothes on. He wasnʼt sure he wouldnʼt have thrown up if they were naked.

The slut opened her eyes just in time to see him bring the sap down hard on the side of the guys head. She screamed as the man gave a little grunt and slid to the floor. John dropped his bag and grabbed her by the throat with his left hand. He pushed her up against the cabinet and squeezed. She struggled and grabbed his hand trying to pry his hand lose, but he was just too strong. He liked watching the faces of the sluts as they realized they were paying for their lifestyles. The sluts eyes bugged out. Her face turned a reddish purple, and she tried to gasp for breath.

John kept up the pressure until she stopped struggling. He pulled his had away and she slid to the floor. John knew she wasnʼt dead yet, just out due to lack of oxygen. He put his sap back in his tool bag, and pulled out his knife. He lovingly looked at the thin chrome blade. It was made for just this type of work. But before his knife could do its work he needed some items. He looked around and found the drawer the slut kept her dish towels in and pulled several out. Now, he was ready!

He felt for the mans pulse on the side of his neck. John coved the mans neck with two of the towels. Then John slid the blade into the artery pulsing under his fingers., blood immediately squirting out. John smiled, this was a trick he learned a long time ago.

When an artery is cut blood gets everywhere unless you cover it up. The first time he did this he was covered in blood. He had to take a shower before he could leave the house.

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