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3-23-4

I sometimes wonder what use I am.  I am so dangerous.
Some days go off without a hitch.
A couple days ago it went that way.
A late night robbery was perpetrated by a young man named Robert who was capapble of incapacitating people by emitting some sort of keening.
The normals fall to their knees, and cover their ears, they are in such pain they could never remember his face.
Robert walked to the corner of the store and began his wail, and it continued without end until his exit.
In his hands were $283 and some snack food.

He'd been doing this for months.  He was at no risk of being caught.  You see, Robert's keening feebled not men alone, but their machines as well.
Cameras would scramble.

He was living well off this pattern.
The police had no description, and even if they did, they knew of no way of capturing him.

I'd read of him, and it was really just plain luck that served him up to me.
I shouted at him as he exited a convenience store, he looked at me and began his wail.
His abilities almost had no effect on me, only a slight misting of death came from me.
He charged at me, and attempted to intensify his scream.
I grabbed a half empty bottle next to me, concetrated, I supplemented my strength, a puff of vile fog came out of me.
I through the bottle, it too screamed as it went through the air at about 100mph.
It detonated upon his head, and a combination of blood, beer and conciousness sprayed from the impact.
He fell to the ground hard,  but I assure you the course of action I took was far better for him than had I let him reach me.

I waited for my cloud to abate, then ziptied his hands and feet, and left a note.
Robert was stapled and stictched up, and gained a metal plate for his troubles.
I heard they locked him in a sound proof chamber at County, and nearby guards suffer nose bleeds and migraines.

That is how they should go.
But today was terrible.
Gerrald and Wesley.  A pair of bank robbers.  I didn't quite place what Wesley could do, but Gerrald harnessed a force a kin to wind.
I arrived as they made their casual escape.
The police cars were being knocked back, one by one.
Gerrald's force was not wind, as the bullets of the police couldn't make it far enough.
Wind couldn't do that, not to my knowledge.
Tumbling officers, cars and bystanders, that is what I saw.
Then a power line was downed onto one of the vehicles.
Wesley pointed his left hand's Desert Eagle .50 and fired twice that the bottom of a flipped police car.
Then Gerrald helped the power line find its way to that gas tank.
The explosion that followed sent the police into retreat.

I had been apporaching from the opposite side of the police, hugging the wall.
I don't know how, or if, Wesley saw me, but perhaps it is an ability of his, his right hand's 9mm Glock pointed at me, and fired once.
The bullet ricocheted off my neck, and black fumed out.
That got his attention, the wall behind me started withering, and I ran to the middle of the road, and grabbed a manhole cover.
Wesley turned his full attention to me, and fired off a volley of five shots alternating between his two firearms.
The death billowed out of me, and the cloud was becoming sizable.
His aim was quite good, as all found their mark, but I wasn't sure that I had him cased quite yet.
The forth and fifth bullets didn't completely make it to me, as they were mostly disintegrated before they could reach me.

Wesley turned his attention away from me, and Gerrald now focused on me.
He blew my cloud off from me, and it killed the tree behind me.
Gerrald noticed that, and bore his teeth.
I surged with strength, the false wind was almost enough to remove me from my feet, I had a small window of opportunity.  I threw the manhole cover as hard as I could, with as much strenght as I'd ever dared to harness.  It would have attained subsonic speeds, of that I am quite certain, but it didn't.  It was slowed to a stop 70 ft into its flight, and it and I were slammed backwards. 
I was pinned against a wall 40 ft behind where I last stood.  The wall was eroding, and cracks were forming.  It was an apartment building.

Gerrald then unholstered a pair of 9mm pistols, and proceeded to open fire.
These bullets were all making their way to me, as my cloud was no longer between me and them.
The wall kept cracking.  The bullets kept ricocheting off of me.

Then through the wall I went.
Some of the building came down onto me, and my vicious death flooded the building.
The lives of 153 were lost to it.
When I emerged from the rubble, they were gone.
I am not sure that I will go to the city for awhile.

I don't know if I'll go to the city again.

Today didn't go well.
I am biting my top lip, I'm gonna go.         

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