No More...... Mar 26, 2020 4:05:19 GMT
Post by Molly Hatchet on Mar 26, 2020 4:05:19 GMT
Last Night-----------March 24th, 2020
My body ached with pain, bruises mostly. It was nothing I wasn't used to after a grueling fatal 4-way but then at Collision 69, it was no ordinary brawl between us. No. I look in the mirror of the locker room bathroom, bubbling over with rage and fury, my lip twitching and fists curled tight. I wanted to smash something....anything...anyone. Time and fucking again, I'd suddenly and inexplicably been caught up in the machinations of large groups ran by one figurehead. I'd find myself a target because they see someone weak, small, fragile... They judge the book by it's cover and the only reason they get anywhere is by sheer fucking numbers. I turn the facet on the sink and run the water hot, then splash it in my face to try and calm myself. It doesn't work.
The Kwonspiracy and Second City Riot Squad.....
...They laid hands on myself, a friend, and someone I respected just to put over the fucking trash that is Lara Bratton. I paid that woman respect and saw in her someone that I'd have liked and called a friend. Someone I thought the world of upon our first meeting. It always hurts to be disappointed. As I continued to wash my face, trying to wipe away dried blood and checking myself over, I think about all the factions that ended up using me as a stepping stone. Each time they were protected by authority figures. I had to "wait" to face their members when they didn't have to wait even one fucking moment to get a piece of me.
"No...fucking...more," I said softly as the trembling goes all out.
I then hurled my still taped fist as hard as I could into the mirror, shattering it explosively.
"NNNNOOOO MMMMMOOOOOOORRRRREEEEE!!!!" I scream to the heavens.
Fuck changing, I gather my bags, throw on a long coat and leave with all the others in the locker room staring at me so hard and confused in some cases. They failed to notice the blood dripping from my knuckles. That's ok. It'll heal. There will be no waiting, no warning, nothing this time. I'm done doing what I'm told like a good little monkey. Fuck that. All it does is get me beaten up and unable to fight back. I had a few phone calls to make, naturally but the first one I'd make would be in the morning, after a good night's sleep, to Griffin Hawkins....
The Next Day......
Last night was not a restful sleep and Cherry sure did not calm me the previous night, as she was poking a bit too much fun at my expense. It was a crisp morning that greeted me as I stood in my backyard, arms folded over my chest. With my cellphone against my ear, I listened to the phone ring on the other end. Halfway across the world a cell phone buzzed playing Bagpipe rock. I imagine it read across it's text ID, "Crazy Ass Ginger" and probably had some goofy picture of myself on it making a face at him. Tis how the Griffin Hawkins do. After the forth ring, he finally picks up.
Griffin's voice had just a hint of gravel from a touch of age but otherwise, he sounded every bit as a richly voiced singer should.
"Yo, Molly!" came his simple greeting.
A part of me felt guilty for the reasons I was calling him were a bit selfish on my part. I generally didn't like calling people for advice or help if I could help it, but this was a situation where I found myself slipping into a darker head space.
"Allo Mr. Hawkins. How's the day treatin' ye?" I asked tentatively.
"Not bad actually...just put little Sophie down for her nap, so I'm trying to be as quiet as a Church mouse."
Knowing what his ring was and how loud it is, I'm surprised I didn't hear a crying baby in the background. I even took a wee bit of humor in it.
"Ya still have that bagpipe ringtone for me, don't cha ya stereotype lovin' prick?" I said with a little laugh. It was always a good bit of fun to bust his balls just a tad.
"Hey just remember there's stereotypes about us too..but enough of that, whats up?"
Right. Enough small talk then. Time to get to the point.
"Ya saw what happened last night, yeah?"
"Yeah I was watching the whole thing here...really fucked up if you ask me. It doesn't say much for you if you gotta hide behind a band of bigger stronger people just to win."
I nodded my head slowly in silent agreement.
"Aye... I plan to go ta war with them. May have some friends lined up. You're invited to the party if you wish of course, but the main reason I'm calling you is to make sure that I'm doing the right thing. ....I got mugged by 'em. Had this happen so many times & I'm so tired of it... of being the popular target for a group of fawkers gettin over. I'm aimin ta be worse... ta be the thing that gives them nightmares & a part of me is gonnae' to enjoy e'ery second of it... what if I go too deep, Griffin? What if I become what they say people like me always become? A survivor of abuse turned abuser?"
Never fond was I of bringing up that fact, but here it is. There was a brief pause, an exchange of breath, before Griffin responded to me.
"Take it from somebody who's been mugged countless times by gangs in the ring...what you're doing is the right thing. They obviously don't believe in a fair fight because deep down inside...they know they can't win one, so they rely on bully tactics and gang beatings. There is no way you'll be worse than them...because you actually have balls enough to knock someone's teeth out face to face instead of relying on other people to do it."
I don't think he had much of a clue of just how murderous my thoughts had been since last night, but then Griffin is a good man. Always stood fast beside his convictions. Tis why he has been me a steadfast good friend since I met him just a few years ago.
"It'll be warfare on their level, good for the Goose & Gander. No quarter drawn. No mercy granted. Hell on bloody Earth."
"If I could be there to help you, I would...but I got my own dealings to take care of. But you and the others can definitely handle this," came his response.
I could hear a slight pang of guilt in his voice in his reply, telling me that he certainly wanted to step in. That's fine and I even told him so.
"Aye. Scheduled apocalypses are hard, I get that. Who knows. They're already fuckin wit tha Kingdom on twitter too. It looks to be like they'll be havin a two pronged war on their hands, yeah!"
One could almost hear his lip twisting into a smirk as he replied, "That's the problem with people like them...they are running around starting fires and starting wars that they don't need to fight. If they're not careful..they'll have anybody and everybody on their backs."
"Aye. I'll start it but by the end, everyone could very well be finishing it just seein' the arrogance on display already."
"Hey don't be afraid to ask for anything from me, Molly."
My lips crease with a heartfelt smile.
"Oh I appreciate it. Thank you for picking up before the ringtone woke your wee one. I appreciate yer advice & hope all goes well fer ye. If e'er in a pinch, ya know how ta get me. I'll be there."
"Just take care of yourself okay?....and make sure to wash your hands...I'll be so happy when this virus shit passes."
That reminded me of the one bit of humor I could take from my match last night. I chuckle as I tell him, "I forgot to take out the hand sanitizer before my match last night. I had a pocket full of goo after the match last night. Twas the most disinfected pocket in the arena!"
"Well at least you're taking precautions, seeya soon!"
"Likewise! Kill it hard, Rockerboy!"
I flick the screen and kill the call then and there. I had more phone calls to make, namely to two potential allies that were involved in the match. Dialing up a number, I lift the phone back to my ear with an evil smile. The phone rings twice and then is picked up.
"allo Dona... wake up... we've got a faction ta' burn..."