808 Test

Logan stood on the tree branch overlooking the football field, constantly adjusting his grip on the branch next to him. The cold fall air whipped at him as he watched the game from the tree. He bit his lip slightly, studying the field. Twenty-two players, eleven on both sides. About forty people in the stands, about a dozen more leaning on the fields fence or sitting on the grass. Two coaches on one side, three on the other, and a little over a dozen extra players on each side. Over a hundred possible categories. Logan scanned back and forth, biting his lip harder in anxiety.

"Nervous?" Oliver asked, standing only about a branch lower, and watching his friends fidgety movements. Logan straightened up, and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.

"No, I'm just going to try and stop a spree killer by using a lead pipe with a garbage can lid duct taped to it and wearing some athletic pads, no pressure." He said, taking a black mask out of the sweatshirt pocket. He put it on his head and snapped the string to the back of his head, covering the top half of his face beneath cold, black plastic.

"You'll be fine, you've taken on dudes with guns before." Oliver reassured him.

"Yeah, but in alleyways, at night, in the darkness, with no one else around, and never anything bigger than like a pistol or something." Logan said, rather annoyed with how much Oliver was downplaying the situation.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is dark, brooding, emotional 808 actually feeling just the slightest bit tense for once?" Oliver joked, but not to Logan's amusement.

"Shut up."

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to be a vigilante, not me." Oliver said, but then he chose to stop his teasing, knowing how his friend was probably feeling at that moment. "Look, like I've said you've taken on guys with guns before. This is one dude, with a rifle. You've got that little shield on your staff, that should block a bullet or two from far range if you really need it too. And you've been getting pretty good with those Disc Golf frisbees, if you can hit him, you can distract him." Oliver explained as Logan watched an old, beat-up car pull into the Football Fields parking lot. "And here, new little thing I've been working on for you." Oliver said, handing Logan something. He turned and grabbed the objects out of his hand, "They're not much different than your usual frisbees, but these have fireworks attached to them. They aren't much but, well, I like to call them Bangarangs."

"Bangarangs? Like that stupid song?" Logan asked, looking at Oliver but keeping one eye on the old beat up car as the drivers side door opened.

"You've got to admit," Oliver said, laughing "It sounds cool, though!" They both turned to watch as an older looking man got out of the car and made his way to the trunk, popped it, and leaned down inside. "Looks like that's your cue, 808."

808 grabbed his staff up from where it had been leaning on a tree. He turned to Oliver and simply said, "Make sure you have the car ready." Before stepping off the branch and falling out of the tree.

808 hit the ground hard, and shook a little bit just from the impact. "No more jumping from heights." He told himself. As he took a moment to catch his breathe from the fall. He knew before he even looked up that all eyes were on him. Sure, it was a cloudy day and that made all the colors in the world dark and grayscale but it didn't prevent his dark red sweatshirt from sticking out like a sore thumb as he kneeled down in the grassy field, just outside the football fields gate. He stood up and looked at the stands, a lot of eyes were on him. Most eyes actually. Some people were pointing, some were talking to their friends while looking in his direction, a few people were trying to get a picture of him on their phone. The coaches for the home team too had seen him, and a couple of the players as well. The coaches seemed nervous, staring at the odd young man who had just fallen out of a tree across the field. 808 then looked over towards the parking lot, and saw the distraction he was causing had made people fail to notice that the man in the beat-up car had removed something from his trunk and was now walking towards the field. He had a high powered assault rifle in his hands, something a lot worse than what Oliver had claimed he would have.

"Shit." 808 muttered to himself, sprinting toward the fence. He quickly mantled over it and found himself sprinting across the field in no time. At this point he noticed the coaches pointing at him, and he heard the sound of a couple people at the stands shouting, and the he saw several fairly large high school football players rushing towards him. "Oh not now." He said, ripping a frisbee off the belt strapped across his back, he whipped it at the closest player too him, hitting the young man square in the face mask. But the Young Man, and all the other players, kept rushing as 808 kept sprinting towards them. "Fine." He said, determined. He ran towards the players, then just as he was about to make contact with them and jelly out of his bones, slid down onto his knees and held the staff horizontally, tripping up several of the players in front and next to him. But just as he slid out the other side of the line, and could hear the players he just tripped up screaming in frustration, he heard the chillingly loud and mechanical sound of gun fire.

Bang-Bang Bang-Bang

The shooter had begun firing off rounds into the crowd. 808 heard the cries of fear as he saw people begin to try and escape the stands. Jumping out the front, jumping off the back, running too the other side, they were trying everything. Andrew heard the horrible screech of metal impacting metal as bullets ricocheted off the bleachers.