Against This Vast Army

Steven began to stand, but had only gotten to his hands and knees before the man was upon him. He picked Steven up by the collar of his suit coat and sent him flying across the room and into the bar, which he bounced off of and fell to the floor again, dazed.

The whole exchange had taken scarcely five seconds, but the bouncers at Club Noir were very well paid and therefore highly motivated. They quickly moved in to flank the man and one of them, a naturally burly man in a tight T-shirt, leapt forward to restrain the man, putting an arm around his neck and a hand on the man’s right arm. The other bouncer moved in with the clear intention of pounding on the brawler a little before they both threw him out. The situation seemed as though it were about to come under control until the man whipped his head back, smacking the back of his skull into the nose of the bouncer that was restraining him and causing the bouncer to fall backward clutching a bleeding nose. The man then took a quick step forward, grabbed the front of the other bouncer’s T-shirt and drove his forehead into the other bouncer’s nose with a vicious crack that could be heard even above the din of the thumping music. Both bouncers lay on the floor, blood flowing freely from their faces. The one who had received the frontal head butt was howling in pain and showed no signs of getting up. The man turned to face the other bouncer behind him who was still clutching his nose and struggling to stand up again. The man grabbed him by the face and in one swift, seamless movement, snapped the bouncer’s neck. The bouncer dropped prone to the ground and lay unmoving, staring blankly up at his attacker. The crowd on the dance floor and at the bar was fairly used to the occasional fight that would break out at clubs such as this, usually over a woman, as was the case, but in that one horrible moment they realized that something had gone terribly wrong. A woman screamed and then a stampede of suits and miniskirts began to flash back and forth in front of Steven as the patrons raced for the exits. Steven struggled to his feet, clutching the bar for support and looking around him. He’d hit his head and everything was swimming before him in a haze of people and lights. Then, as if parting it with sheer force of will, the man stepped through the crowd, moving toward Steven. Steven could not believe what was happening. The rational part of his mind kept reminding him that he’d hit his head and could not rely on the accuracy of everything he was seeing because he might well have incurred a concussion or some other kind of head trauma. Nevertheless, the man continued toward him at a steady, determined pace. The situation was surreal. This man had thrown Steven as easily as if he was a doll. He had massacred two men that Steven had himself seen beat larger men into whimpering submission and the worst, most unbelievable part of it was that the man had now fixed his gaze on Steven and was heading straight for him.