Gothic City. 1:12 am
Two jabs, one hook, the bag was done.
"One more."
Three jabs and one flying kick, it went flying.
"One more."
Seven lightning fast punches to the center of the bag and a hole was made straight through it.
"One more."
"Sorry, boss, that's all we have." The greasy owner of the gym said with a yawn. Handing the boxer a towel, he sighed as his stomach bulged out, stains on his shirt. "Marco, you're one of the best kickboxers out there. I seriously doubt anyone is going to challenge you and win- with all this training." He snorted, lucky to having been paid so much for being up this late. Turning to leave, he went to the door and opened it, about to leave. "Lock up, will ya?" He said simply, closing the door.
Marco Diaz, a pro kick-boxer, panted as he wiped himself off from sweat. Six foot five inches, weighing two hundred and fifty pounds. Nine percent body fat. A marvel of physical perfection. Able to punch straight through concrete. Never stopping his training. Most would consider him a legend. TV made him out to be a god, physically and spiritually. But some in the underworld of sports knew the truth.
As Marco went to do some pull-ups, someone knocked at the door. Frowning, he called out- "It's open!"
The door swinging open, a figure stepped inside. Clad in a white trenchcoat with black stripes and a mask, the small man eyed Marco carefully. "Marco Diaz. Known for using performance enhancing drugs. Also known for killing your dealer." He said as he pulled off his mask, revealing his tired face.
Marco widened his eyes. Nobody knew about that. Except for him, and a few of his close friends. "Who the hell are you? Some kind of hero? Heh, here's an idea, you can be the Zebra."
"... The Zeb- what kind of idiot are you?" Atomikill snapped at the nickname the boxer gave him. Taking off his jacket to reveal his tightened muscles against his shirt, he got up on the dimly lit boxing ring.
"The kind that's going to kick your ass." Marco grinned as he jumped up onto the ring.
Marco went first- Atomikill gestured for him to strike. A hook came in the combo- the jabs, Atomikill tanked. But for the hook, he slipped his arm around the swinging fist, twirling and using his weight to snap the arm with ease. Hearing the large man scream in pain was somehow pleasing to the smaller man. Maybe it was the fact that he had been so arrogant the moment before. Maybe it was just the kind of sick animal Tommy was underneath his mask. Who knew. Not him.
"Before I kill you, I'm going to tell you a little tidbit about my childhood. Don't worry, it won't make much sense. But I'm not telling it for your entertainment."
And so, Atomikill cleared his throat, beginning his story.
Gothic City, 1989, March 13.
A few days after Tommy was caught out of the house with his brother, they were at it again. Nervous to be caught by their father, they shut their door and escaped through the window, as to not be seen. Now back on the desolate streets of Gothic, the boys went back to where they found the small street gang.
"Hey!" Eddy yelled at them, toting along his smaller brother. As soon as the boys turned to see them, they got ready to run, but Eddy held up a hand to stop them.
"Wait, we don't want to hurt you guys. We want to join you." He said, Tommy nodding with him. The other boys looked at them for a second. They were scrawny, meek. Then again, they were all scrawny and meek.
"Fine, you want to join us? You gotta go rob that store. Bring us back the cash. Then we'll talk." Big Money said, an African-American boy that led the ragtag gang.
Nodding, Eddy dragged Tommy to the store. "Ok, Tommy, I need you to do everything that I tell you, and I mean everything."He said. Of course Tommy would, he was only a child. His brother, his idol. Drawing a gun from his jacket pocket, he shoved it in Tommy's hands. "Aim at the cashier. Don't shoot unless he makes any sudden movements." Eddy whispered as he kicked open the door.
A small Asian man was sitting behind the cash register, the small convenience store well lit with rows stocked with sweets. Pointing the pistol at the man, Tommy glared- secretly frightened out of his mind. He didn't want to be here. Didn't want to do this. But there was no backing out now.
Eddy shouted, "Open the register!" The man did so, very nervously as he held up his hands. With a ding, the register slid open, the older Bastion emptying it of its goods as he looked toward the sweets. "Tom, what flavor slushy you want?"
"B-blueberry." Tommy said, surprised. This wasn't part of the plan. His brother was getting greedy. Going down the aisles, Eddy filled his pockets with candy and sweets, finally getting to the end of the aisle where the slushy machine was. Getting the largest sizes, he filled them to the brim with blueberry slushy, when suddenly the Asian man pulled out a gun from under the register.
Acting quickly, Tommy managed to surprise himself when he pulled the trigger. A flash of smoke and a bang that made him fall backwards, he hit his head on the ground, dazed. Ears ringing, he faintly heard Eddy telling him to run, as his brother picked him up and dragged him outside. Faintly he felt something forced into his hands... what was it? The slushy.
As they made it across the street, Tommy felt very sick. Throwing up right onto his brother's feet, he felt the knot in his stomach loosen a bit, as he sat down by the brick wall. Laughing, Eddy patted him on the shoulder, putting a candy bar next to him, as he threw candy into the air for the whole gang to share.
Tommy just wanted to sleep, but he felt good. Proud. Confident, even. Slurping his slushy, he closed his eyes with a slight smile as he leaned his head back, no knowledge at all of how major the crime he just committed was.
The last thing he heard before falling asleep was, "Welcome to the Thieves Elite."
___
Atomikill finished his bit of the story before looking down on the boxer. "We had some good times. Also some bad. But... my brother and I stuck together. I wish I could tell you more, but I am very, very bored."
"Who the hell are you?" Marco said, looking up at the man.
Smiling, he responded with a simple yet powerful statement. "I am Atomikill." And with that he snapped Marco Diaz's neck, exited the boxing ring, and silently left the gym. Another day, another chapter.
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