Chương 6: I Want My Money
Master Waterson was enjoying his time in New York, there was barely any form of threats to be taken care of in this city. Despite having a huge amount of mutants and enhanced humans, New York was probably a vacation spot to most masters due to the low magical presence. So, he was reading a book he borrowed from another dimension when he was flooded by the most potent magical presence he had ever felt.
"Fuck!" he cursed as he dropped the book and vomited due to been sensitive to magic. Quickly, he enchanted himself, withstanding the magical might that came with the sudden presence.
"What was that?" he asked himself, arming himself with six eldritch runes and weapons and went to open the door only to feel something ram into him, sending him flying backwards, unconscious!
.....
"Storm! Storm!" Ororo was woken up by a constant banging on her door. She was annoyed by this inconsiderate bastard before she felt something was wrong. She felt the weather outside the mansion was a brewing tempest like nature itself had decided to show its wrath on the residents of New York.
Quickly wearing a bath robe, she walked out of her room to see Logan eyeing her warily. She knew he was alert and almost ready to incapacitate her. She couldn't blame him, telepathic mutants were plentiful and ones that could take over her mind to cause destruction just as many.
"I'm not doing this," she told her colleague who then relaxed, making her feel glad. Wolverine was a tough opponent and even stricter protector. To calm down this easily meant he trusted her to a tee.
"It's not her," they both heard Professor Xavier's voice in their head. "It's the mutant we felt last night. It seems his power is the same as Ororo's, if not significantly bigger. A storm is brewing all over New York, a storm like no other we have ever felt before."
"Can you locate him, chuck?" Logan asked, already not expecting good news. If Charles had a location, they would already be heading right this instance.
"Unfortunately no. The storm is masking his signature while also announcing to any mutant that could sense it that there is an very powerful mutant in the city. Be prepared, we might be receiving friends and foes from all over the world. If the situation is not dealt with care, the city might become a battlefield," Professor Xavier told them, making both of them become grim.
.....
Meanwhile, the troublemaker had already gone back to his house and went to sleep amidst the soothing lullaby of the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the roof. In the morning, he was woken up by the cries of Chloe. Alarmed, he got out of bed and went to check on his youngest sister, to see all the others already trying to console her.
"What happened?" he asked as Chloe jumped into his arms, slightly comforted. Mandy sighed in discomfort before showing him a milk powder can on the kitchen sink. He frowned deeper.
The can was where they kept their household money. Due to their father been a bum, they had to learn how to fend for themselves early on. That meant, they were the ones paying the electric, gas, water bills and the mortgage too least they become homeless. Every last dollar he makes goes straight to the jar and so does everybody else's. But, the jar was now empty! That was eleven thousand dollars in there!
"What happened?" he asked, while comfortingly hugging Chloe.
"Frank happened. He came by at night, wanting to dry himself from the rain. Chloe found him in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich and one thing led to another. She didn't want to but you know Frank, he is good with his words. She told him where we kept the cash and he sent her to sleep. Unsurprisingly, he decided to take the money too before he left," Mandy explained, giving Chloe a sympathetic look.
Everyone in the household knew how important the jar was. Due to being underage, they could not open bank accounts without alerting social workers. So, Mandy and Ian had taught their siblings the importance of the jar as soon as they could start earning their share.
"I'm sorry!" Chloe cried pitifully, making Tristan continue comforting her till she stopped crying. He handed her to Sue who was quiet surprisingly and looked at Mandy meaningfully.
"He's at Pops, getting a haircut," she answered, sighing helplessly.
"Alright, I'm gonna go and have a civil chat with our father. Zoe, take my bag, I'll meet you'll at school, hopefully with all the money," he told them before heading upstairs, got dressed and power walked out.
Pops was a barbershop owned by an African American old man called Pops. He was a gang banger in his hay days before apparently finding Jesus. Now, he just wants to save more young'ns from the streets as penance. He opened a barbershop where he taught young men and women the advantages of god ol' hard work.
As he approached the barbershop, he saw a giant of a man humbly sweeping the floors and frowned a little as his mind already assessed he wasn't normal. But, Tristan put that at the back of his mind. Like a hurricane, he blast open the double glass door, making the open sign swing violently as his eyes zeroes towards his target. Frank, his supposed drunken father enjoying a steamed towel to the face. Everyone looked at him and frowned, they knew who he was.
"Listen, young'n we do not condone violence here," Pops spoke up, getting up from his table where he was talking with a preteen. But, Tristan did not care about him. Picking up a shaving blade from the counter, he walked towards his father, throwing a barber who tried to stop him out of the way, a little too strong for he flew to the wall and ended up having concussed.
"Hello, dad," Tristan said as he ripped the towel off his face and gripped him by his hair and yanking him off the chair. Frank screamt in terror, his eyes widening in fear when he looked into his cold eyes while Tristan was making him kneel.
"I have never voiced my reluctance to you coming to the house because the girls needed a father, even one as flawed as you. I was willing to overlook this because you were not a threat to their common living. I provided them with everything, no matter how my soul rotted in the inside, I made sure they would not end up failures like you.
"But, you overstepped! Tricking Chloe in showing you the money and tricking her some more, sending her to bed while you stole OUR MONEY! MONEY I SOLD MY SOUL FOR!" As if mirroring his rage, thunder suddenly boomed as dark and heavy clouds started converging all over Hells Kitchen. Lightning flashed once before it became silent.
"You overstepped, Frank," Tristan said, suddenly calm, a calm that sent shivers down everyone's spine.
"I don't have it!" Frank said as he groaned in pain when Tristan clutched his mop of hair tighter.
"Dad!" a boy's scream suddenly brought everyone to their senses, making them all turn to the preteen talking to Pops.
"Dad! You had another brat already?" Tristan said as he let go of Frank and walking towards the boy. Pops stubbornly got in his way, staring down in his eyes defiantly.
"Leave. My. Shop!" Pops growled, his meaty hands balled into a fist. Tristan smiled at him. Suddenly, he punched him in his liver, making Pops fall to the floor, wheezing and panting in pain.
"This is a family matter, old man. Next time I'll gut you," he said, walking over his crumpled form and reaching the shivering boy. "He really is your boy, already shivering in his brand new sneakers." Tristan looked at all the new clothes the boy had and his eyes hardened.
"So this is it, huh? You stole from your abandoned family to feed this one, huh?" Tristan said, looking at Frank. But, his hand shot up and caught the huge fist coming at him. He was a little taken back by the force of the punch but it was still not a bother. The man's eyes widened in shock seeing his nonchalant look when he caught his fist.
"Don't interfere," Tristan warned him as he twisted the arm so that he took a knee while his hand was extending backwards then punched the elbow, breaking his arm, eliciting a roar of pain from him. He threw him to the side before eyeing the boy.
"If you were older I would have probably given you to some creep to have his way. But, it's not your fault," he said then walked over to Frank who was glaring at him with hate.
Tristan scoffed before going to the freezer, taking a bag filled with ice and walking back to Frank. He put the bag on the table before forcefully taking Frank's arm, placing it on the table and putting the blade his middle and forth right hand finger.
"I want my money, Frank. Not tomorrow, not tonight, before lunch," Tristan said before applying pressure to the knife a d cutting through the fingers like a hot knife through butter. He calmly picked the fingers and put them in the ice bag and closed it, took a towel, wiped his prints off the blade and put it on the table, all the while Frank screamt in pain.
"I hear medicine has gone a long way now, they might be able to reconnect your fingers if they well preserved. You give me my money by one in the afternoon or I will throw these two into the toilet and come for two more," he threatened him before walking away, leaving a barbershop full of stunned and afraid people.
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