In what used to be a quiet and uneventful night, an alarm began to blare out as the large front window of a jewelry shop had been shattered; effectively letting two burglars a good open space to try and open up the gate for this such an occasion. After a good couple of minutes, they succeeded and began to break into all of the displays that held the various gems and jewelry; tossing everything into a burlap sack, a cliche you would find in old cartoons, they quickly emptied the store. They didn’t waste time with anything in the back, as they knew that the police would be arriving anytime soon.
“Told you this place was worth it!” The biggest of the pair spoke, a rather large warthog.
“Sorry I didn’t jump at your suggestion soon enough, man this was easy aside from that pain-in-the-ass gate.” The smaller one responded, a thin-framed badger.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, my fine gentlemen,” spoke a voice, in a mocking tone, from somewhere, “but small-time robbery just got a bit more complicated. Probably should’ve jumped on this chance a lot sooner.”
It took a few seconds to realize that a part of the moonlight from behind was blocked, in the shape of a figure.
“Turn around— actually wait no, you’d have to strain your neck a bit to look up at me and the angle is probably not gonna look all that flattering. Okay, just walk a few steps forward and *then* turn around, ‘kay?” The voice spoke up again.
The robbers didn’t follow the voice’s advice, as they did what they would’ve originally done anyways: just turn and look up at the owner of the voice; it was a black hedgehog with tied quills—in the style of a ponytail— with streaks of emerald green in both his quills and fur. He wore a tight, but breathable, sort of superhero suit and boots, along with a coat that he wore on just his shoulders. His eyes shined a vibrant citrine and his cocky smile a pearly white.
“... Who the hell are you?” The warthog asked after an awkward amount of silence.
“Me?” The hedgehog pointed at himself, “Well,” he then started to speak with a fake southern accent, “I’m the sheriff ‘round these ‘ere parts now.” He quickly did a front flip over the pair, off of the small jewelry store, and landed with his back turned to them both, albeit a bit off-balance. With a quiet voice, he said to himself, “Almost ate it right there,” before looking over his shoulder and continuing with his bit, “and you just robbed a store that’s under my protection!” He was now fully turned around. “Then again, I guess this whole city’s under my protection.” He smirked.
The badger, who had realized something about the hedgehog, was understandably a bit confused. “Wait a minute, so the rumors were right? There actually is some crazy guy running around being a hero?”
“Well,” the hedgehog lightly clapped his hands together once, “I’m a bit offended by the word ‘crazy’, so let’s just call me eccentric.”
“What?!” The larger male spoke up.
He was cut off by the badger, “You've been living under a rock or something? Being a hero is worse than what we’re doing! Been that way for twenty years at this point. No wonder everyone’s been saying how the police are on edge lately.”
“Is this why you didn’t wanna join me in the first place?” The warthog, in an irritated manner, turned to the badger, “You could’ve told me!”
“It was only a rumor! … least I thought it was.” The badger defended himself.
The black hedgehog, rather loudly, cleared his throat, “Well, either way, I never really followed the rules. So I don’t know who it’s gonna bother more: me or you two. Let’s find out right now.” He spoke, in such a cocky manner as he raised his fists.
The smaller Möbian shook his head, not having planned for a fight, “The police are on their way by now! You can’t—!”
“Ugh, screw this!” The warthog interjected, having quickly reached around to the back of his pants, only to pull out a snub-nosed pistol and quickly fire a round that traveled straight for the forehead of the hedgehog.
Strangely, there was now smoke left in the place where the hedgehog stood. It was in the form of him, though it then slowly began to fall to the asphalt ground.
“W-Where’d he go?!” The badger glanced around the area, as it appeared that the hedgehog had disappeared into nothing but the night.
The warthog turned around, while his mate was looking to the front exaggeratedly, and took notice of the smoke forming and building up slowly in front of him. Out of some form of desperation, the warthog began to fire his remaining four rounds into the gaseous figure. By the time he heard the gunfire nothing but an empty chamber, a fully formed fist came out of the mist. Despite being a larger creature overall, he had felt an impact that most others could never give with such ease, hard enough that it made him fling his gun away. Though perhaps the reason he was now stumbling backward, past his smaller cohort, was because he hadn’t expected a straight jab to come from a cloud that was the color of wine. Then again, who would?
The black hedgehog casually moved with such a relaxed stride, stepping closer to the warthog, and past the badger that he deemed a smaller threat, as the larger thief started to regain his balance. The badger, however, had picked up a crowbar that the pair had used to get past the store’s gate and charged at the black hedgehog with it, the tool raised above his head. With a shocking amount of ease, the hedgehog had quickly turned around and caught the crowbar, before yanking it away from the badger to then jab him in the stomach with the blunt head of the weapon, knocking the wind out of the badger, the hedgehog had them thrown the crowbar away so no one could have access to it. Afterward, even with a sudden flash of a small blade from the warthog, the cocky smile on the hedgehog had gotten bigger. A perfect portrayal of his personality, within one expression. To taunt the warthog, the hedgehog brought a hand up and gestured towards him to “bring it”. After a series of stabs and swipes, all of which were avoided by the hedgehog who seemed to be having fun from all this, the warthog grew angrier and angrier.
“Hold still!” He yelled, attempting another stab at the lower portion of the black hedgehog’s torso.
A surprising response came from him, “You got it,” as the small blade made contact. The hedgehog had suddenly halted in front of the warthog. It cut into the shirt and dug between the ribs of the hedgehog. No physical response came from him.
In all honesty, it hurt him just as it would any other person. His pain tolerance was high though, and his tolerance for getting stabbed was the same. He wasn’t furious at that result, as he pretty much had done that himself.
With the warthog now backing away, as clearly that display of fortitude slightly shook him, he asked the hedgehog, “What the hell are you?”
“I’m a hero, plain and simple. Speaking of which, why can’t we just have a good old fistfight?” He asked, grabbing onto the grip of the knife and pulling it out, it’s shiny metal blade coated in red now. “I mean, I only let you stab me so that way we’re all just swinging fists and I don’t have to go so hard on you,” He said, tossing away the knife over into a nearby trash bin, “Hope no one finds that.” He had muttered, looking over at the place of disposal.
The sound of heavy footsteps got his attention, as the warthog prepared a downward swipe at the smaller hedgehog. The hedgehog was finished talking anyways, as he watched the punch miss him barely, something that felt like it was in slow motion as he felt the wind graze his face. His knee jolted up, bashing the chin of the warthog. Some force was held back from the strike, even then it still managed to hurt the larger male pretty bad. With the warthog now standing straight up, due to the blow to the jaw, the black hedgehog moved quickly to follow with an elbow strike to the stomach region.
The brutish male held his stomach, “Why you little—“ He began to speak, only to get met with the front of the hedgehog’s boot. A quick jumping spin kick was what knocked the warthog down and out.
“That was easy… just like the other seven times.” His tone made it seem like the hedgehog was bored.
Upon realizing that something was missing, he began to look around him quickly as if he had misplaced his phone. His eyes landed on the badger, who was attempting to slink away from the scene.
“Now, now! Don't make me come over there and drag you next to your big ole buddy over here.” The badger stopped at the sound of the hedgehog’s voice.
A few moments afterward, the badger was now tied up back-to-back with his unconscious colleague. The illegal hero of a hedgehog was just now making sure the ropes were tight enough.
“Cops should be here on their way by now, they don’t really have any guys out here patrolling usually. So just hang tight for like, a couple more minutes?” He spoke, giving a few glances at the badger as he checked to see if the rope was firm in its hold.
“Why are you doing this?” The badger asked, after a few seconds of silence.
The hedgehog brought a hand to his chin, seeming to think about a response while the badger continuously looked on at him, tied up with his unconscious partner. Almost with a shrug of his shoulders, the hedgehog responded with, “Well, what can I say? I got nothin’ better to do with my free time.”
The small Möbian, who now looked up at the slender male, had a look that conveyed as to just how unsatisfying that answer was. He shook his head slowly, closing his eyes for a bit, “They were right with calling you crazy. No one would risk their life for two-bit heroics over getting thrown into prison.”
“Hey, it’s not like the police can catch me even if they tried. I can tell they’re getting mad with me.” The hedgehog flashed a grin, as the sound of police sirens began to ride in the wind and headlights flooding the dimly lit street. The lights were currently hitting half of the hedgehog’s face, leaving the rest of it to be lit by the dying street light above and to the left of them, as he looked down at the badger.
The sound of the police cars’ doors opening seemed to let the hedgehog know it was time to go, the headlights shutting off afterward, he backed away and off the curb; looking over at three pairs of police officers, he knew they were more there for him rather than the robbery, as like the hedgehog suggested, they had been trying to catch him.
“What’s your name?” The badger, raising his voice a bit, asked the black and green hedgehog.
With yet another smile, and in a loud enough voice so the cops themselves could hear, he responded, “Katorasu.”
Leaving with the reveal of his name, his body turned into that of mist. To the police officers, who’s flashlights were placed on him that made him look like an inkblot on a dirty canvas, knowing by now that it was too late. Nothing could be said or done, as they watched the illegal vigilante’s gaseous form float into an alleyway and into the starless night sky.
