Three months into the "Harvest of Terror," the Iron Shadow had turned the humid Texas streets into their personal hunting grounds. The air at the station was stagnant, vibrating with the low hum of distant engines and the silent, predatory intent of Samuel and his crew.
Samuel and his crew were prowling the station that day, hunting for a mark to rob. Their eyes eventually settled on a man sprawled across a bench, his face obscured by a hat as he slept.
While his hair remained a thick, midnight black, the sagging skin around his neck betrayed his true age; he was no longer a young man. Yet, his physique was colossal. Draped in a suit of clearly expensive fabric, he radiated the unmistakable aura of wealth.
"How many days you think you got left, rotting away in your sleep like your money's gonna save you?" Samuel spat, his voice low and jagged. "Wake the hell up. I'm talkin' to you!"
The man didn't stir. A heavy, unnatural silence hung over the bench, mocking Samuel's authority. He gestured with a sharp flick of his chin, sending two of his boys to snek out the money.
Samuel watched them approach, a slow, jagged smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He arched a brow at the motionless figure, his thoughts turning dark and opportunistic.
"If this old fool is truly buried so deep in sleep that even my voice can't crack it," Samuel mused, "then what's the harm in a little quiet surgery on his pockets?"
The two boys closed in, their movements practiced and predatory. They didn't hesitate, their fingers diving into the old man's pants pockets, frantically searching for the leather of a wallet or the cold weight of a coin purse.
The man didn't even wake up. He just flicked his hand like he was swatting a mosquito and caught one of the boys across the arm. The kid let out a sharp "Aahhh!" and collapsed to the ground, clutching his hand in pain.
Samuel lost it immediately, Raining down a string of curses on the boy for being so pathetic. "Get the hell up, you useless piece of sh*t!" he barked.
The boy, trembling, held up his injured wrist for everyone to see. The crew froze. From that one tiny tap, the skin on the boy's arm had turned a deep, angry purple-red.
Seeing the first boy's condition, the other one who was checking the pants pocket stopped dead and looked at Samuel with pure fear. He was caught between a canyon and a landslide.
If he kept going, the man might do the same to him. But if he stopped, Samuel wouldn't let him off easy either.
He brushed the blazer aside, reaching for the man's breast pocket. But in that heartbeat, the atmosphere shifted.
The moment the boy's hand neared the pocket, the man lashed out, his left arm snapping forward like a whip. The blow caught the boy squarely in the chest with a deafening thud. The sheer impact sent him hurtling through the air, crashing to the ground fifteen feet away.
Samuel and the others stood frozen, completely blindsided.
The man tipped his hat back from his face, rising from his slumber to reveal a massive frame—a towering six-and-a-half feet tall and three feet broad. Standing at full height, he loomed over the boys, who looked like mere children in his shadow. He cast a slow, scanning glance over them, let out a massive yawn, and spoke: "Kids these days have no shame. Stealing from a sleeping man in broad daylight?"
The crew instinctively recoiled, a wave of fear forcing them back a step. Only Samuel held his ground, his gaze locked firmly onto the man's eyes. Seeing that spark of defiance, a wide grin spread across the giant's face.
Even from a distance, Samuel could feel the man's overwhelming aura. Keeping his gaze locked and steady, he thought to himself, "I've never seen a human being this massive. But it's not just his size—there's a terrifying energy radiating from him that I've never felt before."
Matching Samuel's intense gaze with a widening, toothy grin, the man sized him up. Inside, he was already dissecting the boy's character: "I'd heard whispers that a pack of teenagers was running hits here at the Texas rail station. So, these are the infamous Iron Shadows. But this boy... he's cut from a different cloth. He's shaken to his core, yet he refuses to yield an inch of ground. There's no doubt about it—this is their leader."
Pushing his curiosity aside for the moment, he leaned in and asked with a mocking edge, "Well now, little man? All of you ganged up just to swipe my cash? Let's see... how many of you are there? Let me count."
Pushing Samuel's patience to the breaking point, the man began to count them with agonizing slowness, his eyes drifting over the group.
He reached back, rubbing the nape of his neck with a casual air as he let out a dry chuckle. "Oh... twenty-six of you at once? Is that the best you can do?"
Samuel's patience finally redlined. He spat through gritted teeth, "Enough with the yapping, old man. You're starting to bore me. If you don't cough up that cash right now and keep your trap shut, I'm gonna make sure you don't walk away from this station in one piece."
The man's face twisted into a grotesque, mocking grin. "Damn," he chuckled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Looks like I'm in a real tight spot, ain't I? But here's the thing, kid—you ain't gettin' a single cent out of me."
Samuel's restraint finally snapped. The man's grotesque smirk was like rubbing salt into an open wound.
Losing his cool instantly, he spat, "I'll shut that damn mouth of yours for good, you piece of filth!"
He spun around and barked at his crew in a jagged, commanding tone, "Move! Cripple that old bastard and bring me every cent he's got. If you don't, I'll make sure every single one of you regrets being born today!"
Samuel's bone-chilling roar sent a jolt of pure terror through his crew, and in a desperate frenzy, the entire pack swarmed the old man at once. The giant didn't flinch; instead, a grim smile played on his lips as he waited for them to close the distance. With fluid, effortless motions, he began to systematically dismantle them, dropping the boys one by one with the precision of a master at work.
In the blink of an eye, the crowd around the man thinned out. Samuel watched, frozen, as his force of twenty-six was systematically dismantled. Before he could even process the carnage, the number of boys left standing plummeted from twentyfive down to a measly ten.
Just then, one of the boys managed to blindside the giant, leaping onto his back and locking a chokehold around his neck.
But instead of panicking, the man simply twisted his head back to look the boy in the eye and grinned. "Attaboy!" he barked.
With a booming laugh, he stepped up onto a nearby bench, seemingly unfazed by the weight of the attacker clinging to his spine.
Then, with a massive heave, he threw himself backward, landing full-force on his back and slamming the boy into the pavement. The sheer weight of the giant's frame crushed the scrawny kid beneath him. Trapped and gasping for air, the boy lay there, broken and utterly helpless under the man's massive bulk.
Then, he grabbed the boy by both legs, spun him around in a violent circle, and hurled him like a projectile into two other crew members. Out of the remaining seven, he snatched up five more, one by one, and slammed them into the pavement with brutal efficiency.
He cornered the final two, using his massive arm span to snatch them both into a crushing bear hug. Samuel watched in stunned silence, unable to comprehend the raw power on display. A second later, the giant tightened his grip, exerting a terrifying amount of pressure on their ribcages. The boys thrashed and screamed in agony, their faces turning pale as the air was squeezed out of them. The moment he released his hold, they crumpled to the ground, unconscious before they even hit the dirt.
Samuel stood rooted to the spot, forced to witness the total annihilation of his pride. He had arrived with a small army of twenty-five, confident that numbers alone would secure an easy payday. Instead, he watched in a trance of disbelief as a single "old man" systematically broke every one of them. Now, the station was silent, save for the low groans of his fallen crew. Samuel was the last one standing.
The giant let out a broad, mocking laugh, his eyes gleaming with a terrifying kind of amusement. "Well now, kid," he rumbled, "looks like your body count just hit zero. Watching your boys get dismantled like that... I bet your heart is pounding against your ribs right about now."
He straightened his expensive suit, looking as though he had barely exerted himself. "Tell you what—I'm feeling generous. I'll let you walk. You've seen enough to know how this ends, so take the hint. Tuck your tail between your legs and get out of my sight while you still can."
Samuel didn't move. The humiliation was a cold weight in his gut, but the predatory aura still radiating from the man kept his boots glued to the concrete. He had come to the station as a king of the streets; he was leaving as a witness to a monster.