Nightclubs, the strip, bars, flashing lights and booze, it all goes together so well. The dead of night and yet the city would be more alive than anytime during the day. Problem with that was, while people obliviously pounded back poison and saw complete strangers as new best friends, other, more dangerous individuals saw this surge of activity as the perfect opportunity to indulge their more primal desires, or in the case of the most dangerous, their only desire, the hunt.
Which was why a young girl no older than sixteen flashed a fake id and a dazzling smile to the men at the door and walked right in, beautiful and perfect, despite the torrential downpour just outside. Where she went, people noticed, and why shouldn’t they? She was easily the most attractive girl in the club, and it wasn’t long before she was assailed by men interested in buying her drinks and trying their luck, desperate for her company tonight. However, all it took was a smile and a flash of her eyes, and those same men suddenly found that everything in them screamed danger, screamed that this girl was truly something to be feared. Needless to say, these men found themselves overwhelmed, and made themselves scarce very quickly. Which was fine with her, she wanted as much room on the dance floor as she could get anyway.
Anyone watching her was suddenly inspired to join her, but never came too close. She was pulling the strings tonight, and these puppets were dangling from her fingertips.
All but one. And that one was the young man who watched her from a booth in the corner. A booth the flashing lights did little to illuminate, who sipped slowly from a drink in his hand, the only one he had ordered all night. She could feel his eyes on her, gazing into her, and she knew he felt no fear. This intrigued her, made her wonder. She gave him her best ‘come hither’ look, and sure enough, just like a man, he took the bait and made his way to join her on the dance floor.
He was close, closer than anyone else in the crowded bar, pulling her tight against him as though she was his, meeting her gaze with one of his own, matching her blow for blow, while anyone else would have fled in terror long ago. But not this man, no, she knew that this man was like her, and this made her smile. They continued their dance, showing everyone else that they were the only two people that mattered, that everyone else was beneath their notice, nothing but cattle. She licked her lips and leaned into his ear,
“Everyone’s watching us, let’s grab one and share them in the rain, just me and you.”
He smiled and placed a kiss on her neck, “I’d like nothing more, take whichever one you want.”
She grinned, her eyes flashing with desire and turned to the crowd, her gaze falling on one, a boy with black hair pulled over his eyes, trying hard to look like he wasn’t having the time of his life, dressed in clothes meant to symbolize pain and heartache. She chose him because he had no idea. But he would soon.
She grabbed his hand and gave him a smile, and she could see wonder in his eyes as she led him outside, her true partner following behind them. Out into the rain, into the alley beside the club, where it was secluded, and she was alone with her prey.
She leaned in for a kiss just as a strong hand gripped her head and slammed it into the bricks, knocking her senseless. Suddenly feeling herself hurled through the air, she landed with a thud and looked up to see her true partner had already killed the boy they were supposed to share, and was stalking towards her, his eyes aflame, and for the first time since her rebirth, she felt fear. True, sickening, all consuming fear.
She pulled herself to her feet and tried to speak but he had already struck, his hand buried in her chest, his fingers enclosing around her heart. A mighty pull of his arm and she roared in defiance, the very ground shaking as a true predator made itself known, even as the man turned her heart to ash in his hand.
“Quickly,” he said, “Before you crumble away, tell me where your masters are.”
Her head was swimming, she couldn’t see straight and her body no longer had any strength. Her roar died as she fell to the ground, her body slowly crumbling into dust, to be washed away by the rain, as though that was its intention all along.
The man looked down at where she had fallen and shook his head. Perhaps he had been a little overzealous. Perhaps he should have gone easy on her, she was just a childe after all. Still, her sire would most certainly come gunning for him now, which was fine with him. After all, he was more than eager to meet the infamous Girl With the Dead Eyes.
Monday, June 22, 2009
He Who Hunts The Girl With The Dead Eyes
He knelt down and surveyed the scene, his unblinking eyes taking in the blood and the carnage. The alley reeked of death, and even the deafening pounding of the rain wasn’t able to wash it away. He was soaked, his limbs numb and his body heavy, but his mind was racing. This scene, this was her work. He knew it.
The bodies were torn beyond any recognition, but he was exceptionally skilled at reading this kind of work, after all he had been doing it for a long time. Three men, more than likely in the middle of indulging their more primal desires when she attacked. This was how most of her hunts occurred. She was reliving the very night she herself was turned, over and over again.
He cursed, knowing he must have just missed her. She had probably taken the young girl she “saved” back to her haven, and now there would be another one that carried his blood. Him, the only reason he continued to pursue this young monster, this Girl With the Dead Eyes. She was sired by the worst monster of all, the subject of his vengeance. He would catch her, and before he tore her heart from her chest he would find where her sire had disappeared to, and then he would have his revenge.
The rain was beginning to let up, and he knew that the sun must be coming up soon. The sky stopped weeping when the monsters of his blood went to sleep and ceased to hunt, if only for a while. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he stood. He was getting closer, he knew it. He had discovered a fresh kill tonight, which was promising. Tomorrow night she would be showing her new childe the ropes, giving her the grand tour of all the delights her new life would bring her. He would make sure the tour would not live up to her expectations.
He was a hunter through and through, and he was hunting the Girl With the Dead Eyes.
The bodies were torn beyond any recognition, but he was exceptionally skilled at reading this kind of work, after all he had been doing it for a long time. Three men, more than likely in the middle of indulging their more primal desires when she attacked. This was how most of her hunts occurred. She was reliving the very night she herself was turned, over and over again.
He cursed, knowing he must have just missed her. She had probably taken the young girl she “saved” back to her haven, and now there would be another one that carried his blood. Him, the only reason he continued to pursue this young monster, this Girl With the Dead Eyes. She was sired by the worst monster of all, the subject of his vengeance. He would catch her, and before he tore her heart from her chest he would find where her sire had disappeared to, and then he would have his revenge.
The rain was beginning to let up, and he knew that the sun must be coming up soon. The sky stopped weeping when the monsters of his blood went to sleep and ceased to hunt, if only for a while. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he stood. He was getting closer, he knew it. He had discovered a fresh kill tonight, which was promising. Tomorrow night she would be showing her new childe the ropes, giving her the grand tour of all the delights her new life would bring her. He would make sure the tour would not live up to her expectations.
He was a hunter through and through, and he was hunting the Girl With the Dead Eyes.
Monday, June 15, 2009
The Girl With The Dead Eyes Part III
It was raining just as hard as it was that night, perhaps harder, and it made her remember very well. She remembered how the sky wept for her, how her life had seemed so hopeless. And in a way, that was true. It had been hopeless. After all her life had ended that night, while the sky had wept.
But from her ashes a Phoenix had arisen, and brought her rebirth, a rebirth she had long since learned to revel in. Her Sire had showed her many things, but as soon as she could, she struck out on her own, eager to explore this new existence for herself.
She smiled, a smile the old her never would have thought possible. Because it was all so nostalgic. Except now the sky wept for someone else, and would continue to cry until she ceased to hunt. And that wasn’t going to happen for a long while yet. The hunt gave her the greatest pleasure of all.
Her prey was just up ahead, cowering in the rain as three men advanced on her, malicious lust in their eyes.
Oh this just couldn’t get any better.
She let out a roar and the men froze, paralyzed with fear. Fear of her, fear of a true predator. With a great leap, she attacked, rending flesh and tearing limbs from their wretched bodies.
Amidst her new life, amidst the carnage and the bloodshed, only one thing had remained constant.
She still saw through dead eyes.
But from her ashes a Phoenix had arisen, and brought her rebirth, a rebirth she had long since learned to revel in. Her Sire had showed her many things, but as soon as she could, she struck out on her own, eager to explore this new existence for herself.
She smiled, a smile the old her never would have thought possible. Because it was all so nostalgic. Except now the sky wept for someone else, and would continue to cry until she ceased to hunt. And that wasn’t going to happen for a long while yet. The hunt gave her the greatest pleasure of all.
Her prey was just up ahead, cowering in the rain as three men advanced on her, malicious lust in their eyes.
Oh this just couldn’t get any better.
She let out a roar and the men froze, paralyzed with fear. Fear of her, fear of a true predator. With a great leap, she attacked, rending flesh and tearing limbs from their wretched bodies.
Amidst her new life, amidst the carnage and the bloodshed, only one thing had remained constant.
She still saw through dead eyes.
Here's Some Advice
For the past month now the large dog had sat by the front door every afternoon at five o’clock, his tail wagging back and forth as he waited. And every afternoon at six o’clock the dog gave a hefty sigh and sulked over to his master, hopping up on the couch and resting against him, a look of profound sadness only a devoted pet could experience in his eyes.
The man felt a similar feeling of sadness, and gave his best friend an affectionate scratch behind the ears.
“Here’s some advice boy,” he said softly, his eyes no longer focused on the small television set in front of him.
“You never know what the best thing in your life truly is until one day at five o’clock; she doesn’t come home from work. And then you realize that no matter how long you sit by that front door, she’s never going to walk through it again.
So when you find someone special, you love her. You tell her she makes you feel like the luckiest man on earth, and you hold her close and you kiss her until it feels like the you’re the only two people who matter, because you are. And most importantly, you treat her like a queen, like a goddess. Because if you don’t, you’ll regret it. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
The dog just lay there, making no indication that he heard his master but that didn’t matter. He needed to say those words aloud, to acknowledge to himself his mistakes, and to the poor pup who loved her just as much as he did.
He turned the TV off, no longer even remotely interested. He just felt like lying there. Lying with his faithful friend, their hearts forever broken.
The man felt a similar feeling of sadness, and gave his best friend an affectionate scratch behind the ears.
“Here’s some advice boy,” he said softly, his eyes no longer focused on the small television set in front of him.
“You never know what the best thing in your life truly is until one day at five o’clock; she doesn’t come home from work. And then you realize that no matter how long you sit by that front door, she’s never going to walk through it again.
So when you find someone special, you love her. You tell her she makes you feel like the luckiest man on earth, and you hold her close and you kiss her until it feels like the you’re the only two people who matter, because you are. And most importantly, you treat her like a queen, like a goddess. Because if you don’t, you’ll regret it. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
The dog just lay there, making no indication that he heard his master but that didn’t matter. He needed to say those words aloud, to acknowledge to himself his mistakes, and to the poor pup who loved her just as much as he did.
He turned the TV off, no longer even remotely interested. He just felt like lying there. Lying with his faithful friend, their hearts forever broken.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
The Girl With The Dead Eyes Part II
She was dead. At least, she thought she was. Everything was so dark, and she felt like she was floating. She’d drifted along this dark ocean for a long time, and had assumed that this was what happened after death.
But if that was true, why could she still hear the rain.
Then she felt it, the ocean fall away, replaced by a lumpy mattress, the darkness receded, and light began to slip though. Only the rain stayed constant, slamming against a small window behind her. Slowly, she dared to open her eyes, and was bombarded by shapes and colors, all out of focus and attacking her at once.
She blinked a few times and when her sight returned completely, she found she was staring up at a rickety old ceiling fan, spinning wildly and dangerously close to falling.
There was a light coming from a corner, pointing out the peeling wallpaper and muddy color of the carpet, and giving the small room an eerie glow. She tried to sit up, and saw that she was in a small apartment, the only other room being a small bathroom in the corner, before being engulfed in a wave of dizziness that took her strength and forced her back to the bed.
She lay there unmoving for another few minutes before trying again, this time managing to ward off any spells of dizziness or nausea.
There he was, sitting across from her, a true predator, his eyes watching her every move intently.
The man from the alley; her savior, her killer.
He stood and walked towards her, yet this time she did not feel afraid, only a strange sort of contentment as he put his hand on her forehead and gently pushed her back to the mattress.
“Sleep,” was all he said, and she had no choice but to comply.
He smiled, ever so slightly, watching her still form. He loved her eyes, and was almost sad to see her close them.
They were still dead, just as dead as they had ever been.
But if that was true, why could she still hear the rain.
Then she felt it, the ocean fall away, replaced by a lumpy mattress, the darkness receded, and light began to slip though. Only the rain stayed constant, slamming against a small window behind her. Slowly, she dared to open her eyes, and was bombarded by shapes and colors, all out of focus and attacking her at once.
She blinked a few times and when her sight returned completely, she found she was staring up at a rickety old ceiling fan, spinning wildly and dangerously close to falling.
There was a light coming from a corner, pointing out the peeling wallpaper and muddy color of the carpet, and giving the small room an eerie glow. She tried to sit up, and saw that she was in a small apartment, the only other room being a small bathroom in the corner, before being engulfed in a wave of dizziness that took her strength and forced her back to the bed.
She lay there unmoving for another few minutes before trying again, this time managing to ward off any spells of dizziness or nausea.
There he was, sitting across from her, a true predator, his eyes watching her every move intently.
The man from the alley; her savior, her killer.
He stood and walked towards her, yet this time she did not feel afraid, only a strange sort of contentment as he put his hand on her forehead and gently pushed her back to the mattress.
“Sleep,” was all he said, and she had no choice but to comply.
He smiled, ever so slightly, watching her still form. He loved her eyes, and was almost sad to see her close them.
They were still dead, just as dead as they had ever been.
The Girl With The Dead Eyes
When it rained it poured. Not just the weather, but her whole life had come crashing down around her and she was having a hell of a time just trying to stay sane. She sighed and tried to keep the tears from falling with a big swig of her drink.
The rain slammed against the small window near her booth, the sound the only thing tying her to this world it seemed. The bar was closing, and even the regulars, the sorry old bastards who sat in the corner, were leaving, and that definitely meant it was time to go home. Of course, she realized, now she was one of those sorry bastards so it didn’t matter anymore.
There, that was it, it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. Hearing herself say that only made it worse however, and suddenly the last place she wanted to be was home, her empty basement suite with nothing but the lingering memories to watch as she cried herself to sleep.
But she got up and walked into the rain anyway, the door slamming shut in the wind. The sky was ruthless, and only the street lights prevented total darkness and even then they were failing. The rain slammed into her, and the bruises she sustained the night before throbbed in protest.
Whatever, she thought bitterly, I’m almost home anyway.
Suddenly she felt strong hands grab her as she was dragged into a nearby alleyway, the sound of her scream consumed by the rain.
Slammed up against the wall, the bricks cold and rough against her skin, she saw the rain dripping down the knife held against her throat, and two men roughly grabbing at her clothing, tearing it to shreds.
She tried one more time to scream and her head was slammed against the wall as a result, knocking any more thought from her head. Her vision hazy, she felt the men grab her and turn her around, pulling her legs towards them and holding her in place.
She closed her eyes tightly and bit her lip hard, bracing herself for the inevitable.
It was the roar that snapped her back to her senses, like a tiger or a lion, but far more powerful. It was the roar of a true predator.
Terrified for a new reason now, she heard the men scream, their voices crying in such anguish that even the rain seemed too terrified to make a noise.
The sounds, the screams, it was all too much as she fell to the ground, holding her body tightly, suddenly finding herself wishing she could just wake up from this nightmare.
She was so scared, so scared.
Slowly she opened her eyes, and sobbed as she saw the two men, or at least what was left of them. God, what was this? What was going on?
The source of the roar looked her up and down, his features like stone, and the rain once again showed its fear, too afraid to touch him. He calmly walked forward, his eyes gleaming, coming closer and closer. She tried to stand, tried to run, but his gaze held her in place, until he picked her up and held her in his arms, slowly running his fingers through her drenched hair.
She slowly felt the fear leave her, and leaned into the man, suddenly too weak to even support herself. She even allowed herself the faintest glimmer of hope, that maybe; just maybe, things would be alright after all.
Her strength was leaving her, faster now, and she collapsed into him, suddenly feeling very nauseous. He supported her weight with ease as her fear returned ten fold, and she started to panic, to fight against him. He was doing something to her, she could feel it. She tried to yell, tried to scream, but could only struggle vainly as he held her in his arms and stroked her hair, until she didn’t even feel the rain anymore.
It was alright. Didn’t she tell herself earlier that it didn’t matter anymore? And besides, her eyes had been dead long before tonight.
The rain slammed against the small window near her booth, the sound the only thing tying her to this world it seemed. The bar was closing, and even the regulars, the sorry old bastards who sat in the corner, were leaving, and that definitely meant it was time to go home. Of course, she realized, now she was one of those sorry bastards so it didn’t matter anymore.
There, that was it, it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. Hearing herself say that only made it worse however, and suddenly the last place she wanted to be was home, her empty basement suite with nothing but the lingering memories to watch as she cried herself to sleep.
But she got up and walked into the rain anyway, the door slamming shut in the wind. The sky was ruthless, and only the street lights prevented total darkness and even then they were failing. The rain slammed into her, and the bruises she sustained the night before throbbed in protest.
Whatever, she thought bitterly, I’m almost home anyway.
Suddenly she felt strong hands grab her as she was dragged into a nearby alleyway, the sound of her scream consumed by the rain.
Slammed up against the wall, the bricks cold and rough against her skin, she saw the rain dripping down the knife held against her throat, and two men roughly grabbing at her clothing, tearing it to shreds.
She tried one more time to scream and her head was slammed against the wall as a result, knocking any more thought from her head. Her vision hazy, she felt the men grab her and turn her around, pulling her legs towards them and holding her in place.
She closed her eyes tightly and bit her lip hard, bracing herself for the inevitable.
It was the roar that snapped her back to her senses, like a tiger or a lion, but far more powerful. It was the roar of a true predator.
Terrified for a new reason now, she heard the men scream, their voices crying in such anguish that even the rain seemed too terrified to make a noise.
The sounds, the screams, it was all too much as she fell to the ground, holding her body tightly, suddenly finding herself wishing she could just wake up from this nightmare.
She was so scared, so scared.
Slowly she opened her eyes, and sobbed as she saw the two men, or at least what was left of them. God, what was this? What was going on?
The source of the roar looked her up and down, his features like stone, and the rain once again showed its fear, too afraid to touch him. He calmly walked forward, his eyes gleaming, coming closer and closer. She tried to stand, tried to run, but his gaze held her in place, until he picked her up and held her in his arms, slowly running his fingers through her drenched hair.
She slowly felt the fear leave her, and leaned into the man, suddenly too weak to even support herself. She even allowed herself the faintest glimmer of hope, that maybe; just maybe, things would be alright after all.
Her strength was leaving her, faster now, and she collapsed into him, suddenly feeling very nauseous. He supported her weight with ease as her fear returned ten fold, and she started to panic, to fight against him. He was doing something to her, she could feel it. She tried to yell, tried to scream, but could only struggle vainly as he held her in his arms and stroked her hair, until she didn’t even feel the rain anymore.
It was alright. Didn’t she tell herself earlier that it didn’t matter anymore? And besides, her eyes had been dead long before tonight.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Forbidden Part II
He jolted awake with a start, quickly rolling over in a desperate attempt to make sure she was still there. She wasn’t. She never was. As the cold sweat claimed him, tears welled in his eyes, and he cursed his weakness. That same dream again, that same dream that always showed up just as he thought he was getting over her, sending him running back to the very feelings he was trying so hard to escape.
He had long ago lost count of how many times he had performed this ritual. Rising from the bed, deliberately ignoring the glowing red numbers that told him he should be sleeping, he headed for the shower, turning the water on and tossing his shirt and shorts into a pile by the door as it heated.
Letting the water rain down upon him in a vain attempt to stop the shivering, he found himself on the floor, the images laughing at him, mocking him with her absence. So why then, why when he was always so close, did the dream return? Why did it show him what it would be like to hold her, touch her, and feel her so close to him? Why did it show her smile up at him as she fell asleep in his arms?
Thus as he hugged his knees to his chest, shivering in the water that had fogged the mirrors blank, he would begin the battle again, with no choice but to utter the words he had uttered to himself hundreds of times before, and would utter hundreds of times again.
She was off limits. Out of reach. Impossible. Forbidden.
He had long ago lost count of how many times he had performed this ritual. Rising from the bed, deliberately ignoring the glowing red numbers that told him he should be sleeping, he headed for the shower, turning the water on and tossing his shirt and shorts into a pile by the door as it heated.
Letting the water rain down upon him in a vain attempt to stop the shivering, he found himself on the floor, the images laughing at him, mocking him with her absence. So why then, why when he was always so close, did the dream return? Why did it show him what it would be like to hold her, touch her, and feel her so close to him? Why did it show her smile up at him as she fell asleep in his arms?
Thus as he hugged his knees to his chest, shivering in the water that had fogged the mirrors blank, he would begin the battle again, with no choice but to utter the words he had uttered to himself hundreds of times before, and would utter hundreds of times again.
She was off limits. Out of reach. Impossible. Forbidden.
Forbidden
He had watched her for a long time, a best friend, a confidant, but always at arms length.
What else could he do when he had fallen for someone forbidden? He had no answers, only questions. Was she happy? Did she know? If she did, would it matter?
No one was there to offer advice, however. It didn't help that he saw her every day either, with her smile, her beautiful smile, always happy to be there. He wondered if it was just to taunt him, like some higher power knew his feelings and put him through this deliberately. It was driving him mad, and he could only pray he would last until the next day. Over and over, one day at a time.
All he could do was grin and bear it, though. What else was there? She was off limits. Out of reach. Impossible. Forbidden.
What else could he do when he had fallen for someone forbidden? He had no answers, only questions. Was she happy? Did she know? If she did, would it matter?
No one was there to offer advice, however. It didn't help that he saw her every day either, with her smile, her beautiful smile, always happy to be there. He wondered if it was just to taunt him, like some higher power knew his feelings and put him through this deliberately. It was driving him mad, and he could only pray he would last until the next day. Over and over, one day at a time.
All he could do was grin and bear it, though. What else was there? She was off limits. Out of reach. Impossible. Forbidden.
Pride
Seriously, this guy was really starting to piss me off. It wasn't that he was a jerk or anything, quite the contrary actually. He hadn't said a word, but he was looking down on me, demeaning me. No one does that to me. Never.
People were all around, watching as the next round started, and every one of them had some tip or another to shout out to one of us. Do this, do that, people are brilliant when it's not their ass on the line. I'd love to see just one of them get up here, take a kick capable of shattering boards like nothing a few times and see how well they take their own advice.
I quickly checked my gloves before the round began. Damn things were old, well worn from years and years of use. When the ref got out of my way, I shot forward, and felt my kick connect with his stomach, which was more satisfying than I can possibly describe. He rocked back and I pressed my advantage, getting a good punch in just to drive the point home.
No one, and I mean no one, looks down on me.
He was surprised, no doubt. I hadn't done much last round; rather I focused on defense and let him tire out trying to hit me. I was in better shape, and my defense was second to none. I was complimented on it by one of the best in the country, actually. I'm a hard guy to get a good hit on. But now it was my turn to be aggressive.
I attacked again, getting a few good hits on him, before his fist came down hard, hitting me square in the face. I stumbled back a little, and barely dodged the follow up shot. He was a big guy, bigger than me, and that's saying something. He was able to bring his punches at a downward angle, whereas I needed to fire mine at an upward angle. As a result, his were much faster, and more powerful than mine, and doing a lot more damage.
One shot was alright, no big deal. I let him come again and quickly countered with a kick, but he brought his elbow down hard, striking my shin and blocking the kick. Shin pads are great and all but there comes a point where they just don't matter much anymore. This was such a point.
I went for another kick, but I was just a fraction slower due to my now severely bruised leg. I paid for that lack of speed with a punch that knocked me quite literally senseless. I lost my vision as everything went blurry, and my hands dipped just slightly, leaving me open for another shot. A rookie mistake, not a mistake I make.
But I did, and suffered another punch as a result, and this one struck the bridge of my nose, breaking it. Needless to say, it hurt.
But I don't fall, and I don't stop. He came again just as I got my vision back and I got him just as hard as he hit me, knocking him back a few steps and keeping him away.
Round over. He took the gold medal while I settled with silver.
I lost, but this wasn't about winning. It was about proving one very important thing. Fight me, kick my ass, break my face, it doesn't matter. But if you look down on me, demean me, insult my pride, I'll never stop coming at you.
Pride is a double edged sword, no question, but one I'll wield until the day I die.
People were all around, watching as the next round started, and every one of them had some tip or another to shout out to one of us. Do this, do that, people are brilliant when it's not their ass on the line. I'd love to see just one of them get up here, take a kick capable of shattering boards like nothing a few times and see how well they take their own advice.
I quickly checked my gloves before the round began. Damn things were old, well worn from years and years of use. When the ref got out of my way, I shot forward, and felt my kick connect with his stomach, which was more satisfying than I can possibly describe. He rocked back and I pressed my advantage, getting a good punch in just to drive the point home.
No one, and I mean no one, looks down on me.
He was surprised, no doubt. I hadn't done much last round; rather I focused on defense and let him tire out trying to hit me. I was in better shape, and my defense was second to none. I was complimented on it by one of the best in the country, actually. I'm a hard guy to get a good hit on. But now it was my turn to be aggressive.
I attacked again, getting a few good hits on him, before his fist came down hard, hitting me square in the face. I stumbled back a little, and barely dodged the follow up shot. He was a big guy, bigger than me, and that's saying something. He was able to bring his punches at a downward angle, whereas I needed to fire mine at an upward angle. As a result, his were much faster, and more powerful than mine, and doing a lot more damage.
One shot was alright, no big deal. I let him come again and quickly countered with a kick, but he brought his elbow down hard, striking my shin and blocking the kick. Shin pads are great and all but there comes a point where they just don't matter much anymore. This was such a point.
I went for another kick, but I was just a fraction slower due to my now severely bruised leg. I paid for that lack of speed with a punch that knocked me quite literally senseless. I lost my vision as everything went blurry, and my hands dipped just slightly, leaving me open for another shot. A rookie mistake, not a mistake I make.
But I did, and suffered another punch as a result, and this one struck the bridge of my nose, breaking it. Needless to say, it hurt.
But I don't fall, and I don't stop. He came again just as I got my vision back and I got him just as hard as he hit me, knocking him back a few steps and keeping him away.
Round over. He took the gold medal while I settled with silver.
I lost, but this wasn't about winning. It was about proving one very important thing. Fight me, kick my ass, break my face, it doesn't matter. But if you look down on me, demean me, insult my pride, I'll never stop coming at you.
Pride is a double edged sword, no question, but one I'll wield until the day I die.
Never Fade Away
It was dark, so much so that now she really understood what people meant when they said they couldn't see their hand in front of their face. But there was more than just the dark. It was cold, and she was alone, lost, and scared.
She needed him now more than ever, and the thought of seeing him was the only thing that kept her running. By all rights she should have collapsed long ago, but she was sure that she could feel him close by, and so she kept going.
He would never leave me, she told herself. He'd never leave me in a place like this. But then, why can't I find him, where is he?
She was getting desperate now; sweat dripping from her brow, her legs threatening to give way any second.
Why hasn't he found me?
Exhaustion finally proving too powerful, she fell to her knees, and a sob tore it's way from her throat.
So this is it then. This is the end.
Except it wasn't.
Strong arms enveloped her and pulled her close, and for a second she thought she was dead. But she soon recognized the feel of the arms, the scent, and she knew she was back where she belonged. She looked up, feeling his arms tighten around her and saw him smile, his eyes meeting hers.
He had saved her. She wouldn't fade away after all.
She needed him now more than ever, and the thought of seeing him was the only thing that kept her running. By all rights she should have collapsed long ago, but she was sure that she could feel him close by, and so she kept going.
He would never leave me, she told herself. He'd never leave me in a place like this. But then, why can't I find him, where is he?
She was getting desperate now; sweat dripping from her brow, her legs threatening to give way any second.
Why hasn't he found me?
Exhaustion finally proving too powerful, she fell to her knees, and a sob tore it's way from her throat.
So this is it then. This is the end.
Except it wasn't.
Strong arms enveloped her and pulled her close, and for a second she thought she was dead. But she soon recognized the feel of the arms, the scent, and she knew she was back where she belonged. She looked up, feeling his arms tighten around her and saw him smile, his eyes meeting hers.
He had saved her. She wouldn't fade away after all.
A Choice
The floor was made for her, and she attracted people to follow her movements. An innocent angel, dancing to the beat that thundered through the speakers, not a care in the world. Her small frame was lit up by her golden hair, which flew through the air as she moved, creating a halo around her head.
Despite the dozens of other people, she was all he could see, all he could think about. He had come this far, and now that she was so close, he realized just how far away she truly was.
She had moved on, while he had degenerated, running in place, trying to catch her. Tears fell from his eyes as he saw how happy she was, dancing, laughing and smiling. Far happier than he had ever seen her while they were together.
He gritted his teeth. He saw a choice now. His pride was savaged, but he could rebuild, and the first step would be to turn around and walk out the door, out of the club without her ever knowing he had come after her. But then again, the thought that she would be gone, really gone from his life was something that tore at his heart.
Wiping away the tears, and with one last look at the best and worst thing in his life, he made his choice.
Despite the dozens of other people, she was all he could see, all he could think about. He had come this far, and now that she was so close, he realized just how far away she truly was.
She had moved on, while he had degenerated, running in place, trying to catch her. Tears fell from his eyes as he saw how happy she was, dancing, laughing and smiling. Far happier than he had ever seen her while they were together.
He gritted his teeth. He saw a choice now. His pride was savaged, but he could rebuild, and the first step would be to turn around and walk out the door, out of the club without her ever knowing he had come after her. But then again, the thought that she would be gone, really gone from his life was something that tore at his heart.
Wiping away the tears, and with one last look at the best and worst thing in his life, he made his choice.
Dedicated
I had always been the kind of person that didn't make friends easily. Truth be told, it was more of an insecurity thing than anything else. I wasn't a jerk, well, not usually, and I was always trying to be as nice as I could be, but it was always tough for me to walk up to a person and strike up a conversation.
That being said however, the friends I had would be my friends for life, and loyalty was something I prided myself on. So when I had heard that two close friends of mine were going to be getting married in the Delta Bessbourough's Battleford ballroom, I was going to do everything it took to be there.
It was going to be a long trip, and when all was said and done, I might not even be able to go back. After all, I would be breaking some pretty strict rules to attend this wedding, and even then I could only stay for a very short time. But I never really thought about that.
The price of my dedication, I suppose.
The bride especially was a good friend, and had seen me through some tough times in life, so I figured the least I could do was let her know I was there.
It took some doing, but somehow I managed to make it there in time for the big day. I had missed the ceremony, which I wasn't too pleased about, but at least I was able to attend the reception. The dance was in full swing, people laughing and having a good time. I wasn't much of a dancer anymore so I had made my way out to the foyer where the bar was situated, mingling amongst the guests that weren't currently on the dance floor. The bartender had ignored me, so I was the only one without a drink in my hand, but that was alright. Alcohol had lost a lot of appeal to me.
I'd pass by and someone would shiver, and every time I grinned a little. That never got old. I was looking for familiar faces though, and it wasn't until my ears started burning that I found some of my old friends I'd left behind.
"It still doesn't seem real to me you know," the man said, taking a long sip of his drink. "And then having us all together again for the first time in I don't know how long."
"Well," the girl said sadly, "We're not all here."
The man hung his head, suddenly aware, that no, not everyone was here, at least, not in the traditional sense. "No, I guess not. It's been almost two years huh?"
"More than that," the girl corrected, and took a sip of her martini, made sour by the taste of the conversation. "Two and a half since the accident."
I smiled sadly at their words, then turned to go into the ballroom. I had to leave soon, but there was something I wanted to do before that. I walked towards the DJ, and probably gave the poor kid a heart attack, coming out of no where like that.
"I'd like to request a song," I said to him, making sure to keep my voice low. If anyone recognized me things would get very weird very quickly. "Dedicated to the newlyweds. A Kiss From A Rose, by SEAL," and then I gave him my name.
He nodded as he wrote that down, and I almost laughed from the look of shock on his face as he looked up and saw no one standing there. He got on his little microphone and as everyone filed back into the ballroom, drinks and dates in hand, the poor bastard announced the song, and who it was for.
And then he announced who it was from.
The silence was louder than any song he could have played, and he froze when he saw no one moving, and the strange looks people were giving one another. Poor guy thought he had done something terribly wrong. So he just played the song and decided to say nothing on the matter. Probably for the best. The shock wore off of most, except my friends, who had gathered together and were chatting nervously to one another.
I took one last look at the blushing bride as things began to get hazy, and I headed towards the foyer. This was the most I was able to do. Talking to that DJ had taken everything out of me, and I was going to be in a lot of trouble when I got back.
After all, the dead aren't supposed to be here, and they certainly aren't supposed to request songs at friend's weddings.
The price of my dedication, I suppose.
That being said however, the friends I had would be my friends for life, and loyalty was something I prided myself on. So when I had heard that two close friends of mine were going to be getting married in the Delta Bessbourough's Battleford ballroom, I was going to do everything it took to be there.
It was going to be a long trip, and when all was said and done, I might not even be able to go back. After all, I would be breaking some pretty strict rules to attend this wedding, and even then I could only stay for a very short time. But I never really thought about that.
The price of my dedication, I suppose.
The bride especially was a good friend, and had seen me through some tough times in life, so I figured the least I could do was let her know I was there.
It took some doing, but somehow I managed to make it there in time for the big day. I had missed the ceremony, which I wasn't too pleased about, but at least I was able to attend the reception. The dance was in full swing, people laughing and having a good time. I wasn't much of a dancer anymore so I had made my way out to the foyer where the bar was situated, mingling amongst the guests that weren't currently on the dance floor. The bartender had ignored me, so I was the only one without a drink in my hand, but that was alright. Alcohol had lost a lot of appeal to me.
I'd pass by and someone would shiver, and every time I grinned a little. That never got old. I was looking for familiar faces though, and it wasn't until my ears started burning that I found some of my old friends I'd left behind.
"It still doesn't seem real to me you know," the man said, taking a long sip of his drink. "And then having us all together again for the first time in I don't know how long."
"Well," the girl said sadly, "We're not all here."
The man hung his head, suddenly aware, that no, not everyone was here, at least, not in the traditional sense. "No, I guess not. It's been almost two years huh?"
"More than that," the girl corrected, and took a sip of her martini, made sour by the taste of the conversation. "Two and a half since the accident."
I smiled sadly at their words, then turned to go into the ballroom. I had to leave soon, but there was something I wanted to do before that. I walked towards the DJ, and probably gave the poor kid a heart attack, coming out of no where like that.
"I'd like to request a song," I said to him, making sure to keep my voice low. If anyone recognized me things would get very weird very quickly. "Dedicated to the newlyweds. A Kiss From A Rose, by SEAL," and then I gave him my name.
He nodded as he wrote that down, and I almost laughed from the look of shock on his face as he looked up and saw no one standing there. He got on his little microphone and as everyone filed back into the ballroom, drinks and dates in hand, the poor bastard announced the song, and who it was for.
And then he announced who it was from.
The silence was louder than any song he could have played, and he froze when he saw no one moving, and the strange looks people were giving one another. Poor guy thought he had done something terribly wrong. So he just played the song and decided to say nothing on the matter. Probably for the best. The shock wore off of most, except my friends, who had gathered together and were chatting nervously to one another.
I took one last look at the blushing bride as things began to get hazy, and I headed towards the foyer. This was the most I was able to do. Talking to that DJ had taken everything out of me, and I was going to be in a lot of trouble when I got back.
After all, the dead aren't supposed to be here, and they certainly aren't supposed to request songs at friend's weddings.
The price of my dedication, I suppose.
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