Investigation Details and Poisoned Darts

So I'm out on patrol last night, taking it easy because I had to work the dayshift today, and a growing super hero needs his sleep. I didn't come across anything, or anything really noteworthy, as far as that goes. I broke into the high school and I checked out the kid's records. Low attendance, lots of visitors to the counselour, minor scrapes with other kids. I checked the kids out that he got into scrapes with and the majority of those kids are thugs and bullies.

My guess is he's somehow acting out against past violence or something. Boo hoo. I'll show him violence.

Anyways, I'm leaving the school when something hits me in the back of the neck. Instantly, I'm furious. I reach back to see what it is, and it's a freaking DART! One of those little ones with the feathers on the end. I tug on it and it feels like it's stuck in the bone.

Great.

"PUNCHERNAUT!" A voice shouts, "YOUR TIME HAS COME!"

"Oh for pity's sake," I yank the dart out with a grimace as a dark figure jumps off the roof of the high school, sails over my head, and lands in the street in front of me. One of the lamps from the parking lot illuminates a young man, my age or a little younger, with olive skin and thick, dark hair. He's wearing some kind of ridiculous Kung Fu getup. He's got one of those Rising-Sun headbands over his eyes like a blindfold.

His voice is calm and steady, "You've disgraced my master, and I'm here to collect your head."

I get a bit of a headrush. I feel drunk. I'm rubbing the little dot on the back of my neck and frowning. "Disgraced your master?"

"You turned down his tutleage years ago, and since that dark day, he's trained his best fighers to be strong enough to compete with you. That day has come, and I am to be the one to end you." And just as I figure out what he's talking about and remember that "dark day," the kid rushes me.

The drunken feeling starts to feel like fire ants running through my veins. This sucks. So uncomforta --The kid slams into me and tackles me into the pavement. Well, my reaction time's considerably slowed down, but I'm not too badly hurt as a result. Probably got some dirt on the back of the unif -- I've got a knee in my groin and the Kung Fu Kid smashes both fists, hammer-style, into my ribcage. Ow. Right, slowed reaction time.

Thankfully, my jeans are baggy enough he misses anything important with his knee. My head shoots up off the pavement like a battering ram and I crack him in the chin. This knocks him off balance and he blinks his eyes fast. His hands come up to his chin and he cries out in surprise. My fists grab at the fabric of his shirt and I kick my legs up, throwing him over my head. I suppress the urge to grunt, "Ally-oop!" and he crashes into the flagpole behind us.

I have a lot of trouble getting to my feet, and when I do, I have that unsteady feeling you get when you're walking on your bed. The slightest shift in balance can send you sprawling, but unfortunately for me I'm not going to be landing on a pillowtop mattress. I'll be landing on concrete with a wild Kung Fu guy who wants to beat me up. The world distorts and wavers like looking through the haze over a fire and my eyes feel like they're cro -- The heel of Kung Fu Kid's foot connects with the small of my back. Slowed reaction time.

Before he can bring his foot around, I twirl around and grab him by the ankle. With another spin, he's airborn and flying across the parking lot. He crashes into the semi that the marching band transports their instruments and equipment in and falls like a ragdoll to the pavement. The momentum I get from spinning around sends me crashing to the ground again. The pavement actually cracks. I crawl around for a minute before remembering how to stand up. I'm in no shape to fight, so running is the best option.

The details of my escape involve me falling down more and a couple stumbles into thorn bushes, but are otherwise completely uneventful. Kung Fu Kid didn't chase me. I finally find my way home and lay down on the floor in my room. It's everything I can do to get my costume off before I fall asleep. No sense in mother walking in on me and discovering a drugged-out super hero laying in the floor. I shove my white shirt, tie, and eyepatch under the bed and take my bionic eye out of the case in my back pocket. I push it in and then I'm out like a light.

The next morning I wake up with the taste of raw sewage in my mouth. This is worse than the day after my 21st birthday...

Why is something I did 200 years ago coming back to haunt me?