Acesuper

2 o’clock AM My body was twisted across my bed as my arms dangled over the left side of the bed. My legs wrapped in the light white sheets as I frantically began to kick my legs, struggling to free myself from the annoying grasp of the sticky sheets. I kicked them off to the side as I sat up in my bed. My straight black shoulder length hair clung to my head as sweat was beginning to drip down the front of my nose. I arose from the bed and went to open a window. I leaned a shoulder up against the seal as I chuckled to myself. Ahh Cyril, you somber dark bastard. Here I was…a mere rookie in SFT…beaten my way through two chump stains and now I was pinned against the utter freak of this federation. The one eyed animal who wrestled almost like a monster would roam the streets at night. Oh Cyril, why would are paths have to collide so early Why do you speak my name with so much hatred Cyril. Cyril, how I wish you were here….singing to me your bed time stories of hatred and demons. The rambling tales of darkness. The irritable babble of promised punishment and over the line egotism. Oh Cyril, how I wish you were here…With your one peering eye..making it always so difficult to read the inside of your charcoaled soul. How difficult it is for me to understand why you think you are so inclined to the worlds suffering, but in my eyes, a mere mortal with a few screws loose. To many this room would be consider peaceful. But to me, I would not define this silence as peaceful. The overwhelming emptiness assailed his ears and mind like a marching band banging away inside his head. No rhythm touched the noise, however, and music could never be so coarse. Crackling like static in the desert, the continues buzz only stopped when I shook my head and attempted to regain his sense. My thought continued to haunt me as I desperately tried to get some sleep. From the past..to the present..From Cyril…to me…I could only sit in utter consciousness. Cyril…you damn bastard….I sat there on the window seal, curling into myself..hugging my knees to my chest..thinking the same thing in my own eternal darkness. I had lost count of time for these brief moments, hunched in this part of the room. As I sat there, I could hear the angry, belittling voice that was Cyril. It had continue to rant on and on…All I could to is pent up my anger in my mind…soon stopping my thinking in terms of times…since it did not seem to exits in this insomnia. For a long time all that I could hear was the sound of my breath…growing slowly but surely more pronounced…picking up steam with the fading of my senses. I struggled it ignore his creepy little his voice…rasing from my knees….feeling more anger run through my blood…Oh Cyril, how I feel flattered to be stuck in your cross hairs. Someone as distinguished…as “great” as yourself…for you to feel threatened by Acesuper..by me…for you to feel so much hatred towards me… I dropped myself once again in the bed….feeling my face with my hands…Oh Cyril..how would I look after your proposed beating? Would I be able to recognize my own face after such punishment. Would I shutter at myself if I looked in the mirror after the match? Or…Or Cyril…would you be the one to be too embarrassed to look at yourself when you wake up Saturday morning? Are you afraid that come Friday night, when the show is over, all your words spoken will be nothing more then provoked treason. Are you afraid come Friday, that the dagger will be planted firmly in your chest..and all your inconspicuous haughtiness will be shoved back down your throat? Oh Cyril how you swear by your inflicting words. I put my face into my pillow….It felt like an eternity as I glance up..the clock barely at 2:28am….Cyril was now off my mind. Deep down I knew the conquer would be conquered come Friday. The proclaimed would be denounced by the newest wave to come over SFT. There I laid….Soon I saw a glimpse…another glimpse of my wretched past. When I was still struggling. When I was pitted up against something I saw now way out. I see myself in my recollection. I see myself in my dream…. **** 2 Years Ago **** I sat down in my shoebox apartment, leaning my elbows against a small wooden table in a dimmed lighted kitchen. My eyes were shut as I clinched my hands together breathing softly. Here I was, a puppet of a boxing promoter to some old man loan shark. To make all the money and hand it right over to him each and every time. And then, be tossed a few scraps to barely make due. This is not what I had in mind when I first started off here in this run-downed city. I mean, was this who I was destined to be, living in a apartment like this with enough money to support two suits, some food, and rent with any luck. I waited there in my little apartment, awaiting a phone call from the old man himself. My kitchen was covered with fading red wall paper and brown tile. It was a desolate kitchen to say nonetheless. Just like the rest of this city. Just like the rest of my forsaken apartment. I kept telling myself that soon enough I would have enough money saved to get things started for myself. The more I thought about it, however, the more I seemed to find all the fallacies of my hopes. Plain and simple, I was stuck with this serpent old man, and deep down, I knew it! I had taken a loan from him, and he gladly gained control of my business. It is not like I was going to be able to get a loan from a bank, that is for sure. This loan shark, was my only hope. And now my hope was turning into a wretched nightmare where I just seemed to be toyed around day in and out. All I did was borrow some money. Not join his gang. He had taken more then enough to cover the loan. But once a snake gets a little taste of money, you can count on him to always be back. I leaned back in my chair once more, waiting for the phone to ring. For the “Boss’s” orders. The orders I would have to follow through if I wanted to stay applicable to him. The sun was starting to rise at this early time of day, but my apartment still had lurking shadows that seemed to give my home a somber effect. I rubbed my medium tan arms as a cold unheard wind seemed to seep from the cracks in the walls and windows. It was around 5:00am as I just sat there in my kitchen, eyes open, hands clinched. The wooden chair pressed hard against my back and I could only grimace to the annoyance. Then suddenly the phone rang. I jumped nearly out of my seat as I readjusted myself in the chair. All this waiting had caused me to go into a dull stupor. The tan telephone stood in the middle of the table. I reached over and picked up the receiver, bringing it ever so closely to my ears as my eyes began to give attention to the solemn wool brown curtains that draped over my window.. “ Its me, Benny. I’m ready, what do you want?” I said quickly “Yeah, I know who it is, honey. What are you ready to do?” said a familiar voice. I was taken completely off track to hear my mothers voice on the other line. What was she doing calling at this hour? I was tempered in a way, but slightly relieved to hear her voice. “Son, what are you doing up at this hour?” she said in her concerned voice. She always seem to talk like that. I faked as if I was in a sleeping daze. “What, mom, oh *yawn* what are you doing calling so early? Its like 5 o’clock. Can’t this wait, I’m tired mom. I was asleep.” I tried to hang up with her to keep the line open for what seemed a more important call. More important then talking to my own mother. “I was just wondering if you had any plans for tonight. A date or anything like that? You know. Cause if you don’t, Krystelle from church is looking to go to the movies tonight! Ooh, Sounds like fun! That was my mother. Always worried for my well-being. I sighed, keeping my tired act up. The more I kept on the phone with her, the more my conscience’s grip began to tighten it’s squeeze on my heart. At first, her voice condoled me. Now it was making me feel like I had gotten everything my other had taught me about morals, and shoving it right in her caring face. If she ever knew what type of a immoral society I had fallen into, it would just devastate her. If she knew about the illegal boxing and betting, she would fall to her knees in tears. If she knew her son had fell into the hands of a damn loan shark, she would not believe it. Worst of all, if she knew of the things he might want me to do. Or worst yet, what I might be willing to do. My eyes almost began to tear as I lowered my head to the table, the phone dangling in my hand. My mouth began to taste bitter with dripping tears, my heart seemed to lie in the center of the table, yanked from my chest. I struggled to fight back the liquid of shame seeping from my eyes. Oh, how my mother was so naïve to this awful world. “Mom, I’m tired right now, I will call you back. I….I got to go.” I said, hanging up the telephone. I sighed, bringing my hands off the phone to my face. I could feel the warm tears touching against the palm of my hand’s and trickling down the side of my cheeks to sides of my lips. I was beginning to feel like a lost soul in a lost world, blinded and uncertain at all times of the sorrowful day. Not two seconds later the phone rang again. With hesitation, I whipped my weakness across my navy blue t-shirt. I pressed both hands into my black medium length hair as I let out a depressing breath of carbon monoxide. “Hello, who is this?” I said, trying to clear my voice. “It’s the Boss….Meet me in the back alley of Lusties Adult Store on Washington Street in 10 minutes. Goodbye…………” the Boss was quick and to the point. I sat in my kitchen, emotionless, the phone still pressed against my head. After a minute of just sitting there in my now frigid apartment, I placed it down slowly to hang it up. I walked over to my restroom, not bothering to turn on the light, and threw some cold water on my face to clear my nerves. I glanced at my clock hanging in the kitchen. I had around 8 minutes left so I quickly went into my room and threw on a pair of black dress pants, blue checkered shirt, and brown sports coat. I combed my shaggy jet black hair with my right hand, running my left hand threw some stubble on my chin. I was out of the door with 4 minutes to spare as I ran down a flight of stares by my door. The raw cold air bit me on my cheeks but inside I was hot with uneasiness. I got to the lot and into my old gray 1986 Nissan Maxima. I quickly took off down the empty neighborhood streets by my apartments. With a minute left to spare, I drove up to the adult store where I was too meet the Boss. I looked up at the sign: Lusties Adult Store. The joint was not too ran up, appearing to get a fresh paint of brown a few days before. From my beat up vehicle I stepped out cautiously, not knowing what to expect. All seemed quiet around the area, being it was still early in the morning. The gray sky hovered above, the morning mist still clung to many things outside. I quickly headed towards the back of the Adult shop. I knew what the boss had planned was nothing sweet and rosy. I figured this meeting was all about the plan he had told me about the day before. His proposal too me, too make money for him! And there was no running away from this. I was to poor to go anywhere, to stubborn to leave what I started, and too smart to know what a mistake I would be making if I did decide to leave. I waited there for 10 minutes, my hands stuffed into my sports coat. Suddenly a old black Cadillac came driving down from the far back alley. It was him. All I could do was stuff my hands farther into my pocket and breath a little heavier. The car slowly pulled up, in the passenger seat with a all black suit was Roy, the Boss’s head bodyguard, scratching his evil puppy face with his middle finger. The car came to a slow halt. Roy glanced out at me, a smirk on his face. “Well don’t just stand there prissy, get in the car you dumb fuck.” he said, a light arrogance in his voice, a grin on his face. I only chuckled. He didn’t like me and well, I wasn’t his best friend either. I opened the back door and took a seat inside the leather interior. The Boss, sat to the right of me. His beady eyes looking forward, his old lips pout on his wrinkled expressionless face. I could only imagine his yellow teeth, hidden behind those white lips of his. His gray hair combed over as he adjusted a red jacket to his body. I didn’t notice right away but there was a man in the passenger seat. He was older, not as old as the boss, but in his late 40’s or early 50’s. He had a gray ruffled beard and short gray hair and wore a light gray suit. He glanced back at me only for a second and turned toward the road as Roy began to drive. “Boss.” I said, glancing in his direction. “This is Hans Zimmer. I call him Zims” the boss said, some spit stuck between the gap of his lips. “Great, the more the merrier” I said in sarcastic tone, keeping a straight face. “Benny boy, here is the situation. Pay attention, I’m telling it once. There is a prick for a guy, Johnny B., and he is giving me trouble with my plan. He is a little bookie who is refusing to take any of my bets. Now, we have to teach him a lesson. I could have his liver for dinner tonight if I wanted to, but this prick needs to be taught his lesson. He is going to listen to me. He is going to take my bets. And we are all going to be happy little dogs and show him I mean business now aren’t we, Mr. Fernandez, the Boss said with a serious tone in his voice. I peered over towards Zims. He had a grin on his face as he stuffed a crow bar into his belt buckle. I glanced over at the Boss. He seemed to be picking at something stuck in his teeth as his snake eyes looked towards me. “And what the hell do you need me for?” I said, looking back at the Boss. Everyone seemed to chuckle in the car except me, as I glared towards the old man, a confused expression on my face. “You know very well, don’t you? You are going to go in with my guy’s and take care of this little messy business. Don’t you go pissing me off now, cause you don’t want to be playing Russian Roulette with me. We are going to his home, getting inside, and trashing the place. Everything. Whether it be his little daughters room or a few muskets from the Civil War passed down from generation to damn generation, trash it and teach that bastard a lesson. It will be simple.” He said with a smile, almost seeming to enjoy himself. “Simple, eh? Wonder if someone is there? And wonder if he gots a gun? Did that ever ring a bell for anyone” I said looking at the Boss. “Why is he going to have a gun for?” said the Boss. “Well, to protect himself from people wanting to trash his civil war guns.” I said, once more being sarcastic. “Simple peachy, don’t get shot” Zims said, turning his head back towards us. “Don’t get shot!? I don’t think it is that simple, Zims. When a gun is pointed at you, and the triggered pulled, it’s very difficult not to get shot. Especially if he is shooting with real bullets. I would hope we would have a better plan then to simply not get shot. Cause as I remember, I was always the kid getting hit first in dodge ball. Now we are talking dodging bullets and well, I don’t think dodging is my forte.” I said, annoyed by Zims stupid remark to not get shot. Roy chuckled while he drove, the Boss glared at me, I looked at Zims who had a smile on his face. Zims reached toward the back and handed me a black bat. I took it, my eyes gazing over the wooden weapon. Roy brought the car to a stop. I looked at everyone in the car. Everyone opened up the door and I was the last to step out. We all walked up to the tidy little green house, me trailing in the back. Zims seemed not to have a worry on his mind as he cracked a side window by the door and reached in to unlock it.. All I could think about was were people going to hear us and call the cops. Or worse yet, was somebody home. A dog next door began to bark loudly. Everyone seemed relax, excluding me. I felt my palms beginning to sweat on the bat, making my grip slippery. Zims casually opened the door and peered around. Roy, who was also carrying a bat, followed. The Boss popped his head inside, drinking a small cup of coffee. I was last to enter, shutting the brown window door and stepping over the shattered glass on the floor. “Nice place.” said Zims. I listened to them ramble as I looked around. We appeared to be in the bookies living room from what I could tell. The home seemed rather small from where I was standing. The furniture, all quite old and of yellow wood, consisted of a couch with an enormous gash in one of the cushions, an oval table in front of the couch, a mirror between two windows, chairs along the walls, and two or three cheap pictures in yellow frames. A medium TV stood unplugged in one of the corners. Zims glared at me as he surveyed the house. He walked into the restroom and begin to scope it out. I stood in the living room, noticing the sun was still covered by the gray cloud. Roy stood by the boss, his hands at his side. The Boss began to walk towards what appeared to be one of the rooms. I began to hear loud shattering coming from either the restroom or bedroom. Or maybe both. I just stood in the living room, my eyes looking over the faded dusty walls. Zims head peered from a doorsill. “GET STARTED ASSWHOLE.” said Zims. I only nodded, starting to think that maybe Zims didn’t like me all that much. He went back into the restroom. I could hear the sounds of a bat crushing against a mirror or some sort of glass. He seemed to be going wild in the restroom. I slowly walked into the kitchen. There were tons of dishes stacked up in the white sink. Some laid tattered atop the green granite. The brown kitchen floor was dirty and sticky as I walked through it. There was a small refrigerator next to a brown table. All I could really do was slide off some of the dishes and let them fall to the floor. I wasn’t in no mood of going ballistic in this house. It wasn’t my problem. I opened the refrigerator only to find it empty with the exception of some vegetables, milk, and eggs. The fridge was small so I kicked it over. It tumbled with a loud thud. Louder then I had expected. I turned to see Roy taking wide hard powerful swings at the TV. The Boss just starred. Sudden impact, as the glass from the screen shattered all over the wooden floor of the living room. Roy smiled. I only smirked as I turn to head back into the kitchen. Then it hit me. Literally hit me. Something had went straight across my forehead. Steel or something had just bashed me across the face. I fell hard to the sticky ground, my body bouncing like the refrigerator I had just dropped a few seconds earlier. I glimpsed up and noticed a man with some sort of metal object standing over me with an angered face. Actually a pissed off face. No, I was say a more outraged face. Or better yet, a ferocious face! My eyes were blurry and slowly came shut… I awoke hours later, spread out in the backseat of my gray old Maxima. I slowly arose and a major rush of pain shot through my head. I moaned as I brought my hand to my head. I could feel bandages wrapped all around. My head felt ready to explode as I looked around through my backseat windows. It was night time. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly 11 pm. I felt like almost fainting again as I looked around my eyes still feeling like heavy weights. I was in the parking lot of the adult store. I suppose no one had saw me in here. Or maybe they were too damn horny to worry about some guy sprawled out in the backseat. “Ahh, damn…My head is killing me. Hey what is that? I said, looking towards the passenger seat. In the front seat hanging on my steering wheel was a white note. I grabbed it and brought it up to read it. I was feeling very light headed but managed to make out the words. *** Bookie was home. House and him taken care of. Bets on with him. Plan still in progress. More to come. Boss. *** I folded the letter and put it into my jacket. I made my way to the front and into the driver seat. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I took a deep breath and recalled the story. “I’m sorry, Mom.” I said quietly. I started up my car. **** Present Time **** I could almost feel my pillows soaking beneath me. What was I turning into on this one sleepless night. Sleeplessness, I figured, could turn any man into a lost soul. I was lost…Thinking…I glanced at the clock…2:51am…