Golden Age, Episode 10, Part 3

The Correspondent

People always talk about where they were when they first heard about The Correspondent. She came out of nowhere and tried to make a difference. Some saw her as a beacon of hope, others as a sign of how far down the slope we had come. I never paid attention to all of that. I was too busy. Too busy working to pay my bills, too busy trying to figure out life. I was seventeen when it started. I was The Correspondent. This is my story.


Fate surprised me by actually being able to fight. I was blocking frantically, dodging blows and feeling out his skills. He landed one solid blow to my side, which hurt but didn’t do any real damage. It seemed that he was pulling his punches. Was there a part of him that didn’t want to hurt me? Time to use that to my advantage.

I ducked a punch, getting in close. I pummeled him in the gut, trying to knock the wind out of him. His suit was armored, making it hard to hurt him. Time to fight dirty. I lowered my punches aiming below the belt. Fate crossed his legs clocking my punches and pushed me back. I fell back, rolling back up to my feet, surrounded by tulle.

Fate moved in again, swinging wildly. Again I ducked his punches, but instead of trying to punch him I tripped him up, forcing him to stumble into the ring of men around us. He turned, enraged, and charged at me again. If I could piss him off enough he would do something stupid.

“Hey, Shelby,” I yelled, “I never liked you!”

“Bitch,” he screamed as he swung his fist in a wild hay maker.

I caught his fist, absorbing the momentum before twisting it.

“In fact, I think we should break up.”

I brought elbow down on his and heard a sickening crunch as his elbow dislocated. His angry screams turned to a yelp of pain. Not wanting to ease up I twisted his arm further, forcing him down to the ground.

“Call of your henchmen or I break it off.”

His screams were the only answer, but he motioned them away with his good hand. I heard them leave, but still didn’t feel safe. I let go of Fate’s arm and sprinted to the car. I slide across the hood, which was surprisingly painful, and landed on the driver’s side. In a pile at my feet was Shelby’s tuxedo.

I rooted through the pockets until I found the keys. Getting in I slammed the door and locked the car. I could hear Shelby’s sobs from the other side of the car. Starting the car I backed out of the parking lot. As I prepared to drive away I heard another scream.

In the lights of the parking lot I could see that the henchmen had returned. Sensing his weakness, they had returned to punish him for what he had done to them. I got out my phone and called the police before heading home.

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The story of The Correspondent will continue weekly. If you enjoyed this story, please scroll down and recommend it. Follow me on Medium or on Twitter. I also have Patreon.

Dylan Reed has always been interested in a good story. Raised without a TV he spent a lot of time with books and loves reading. Dylan has been a professional entertainer, studied commercial diving, and loves random trivia. He brings all of this and more together in his stories.