NewPort Island - docks - warehouse #13 - evening

The air is tense, if not stale, as I stand in front of my opponent, staring him down as he scowls at me. As if that ugly mug can scare me. His girl is smirking, probably feeling smug since she thinks I’ll get crushed. Sorry lady, but your boy toy is going to get crushed.

“Before you go to the hospital, how do you wanna go out?” The huge punk asks, sneering his ass off.

“Why ask me that question?”

“Smart guy, aren’t you?”

“Anyone would be, compared to you.”

This sets him off as he balls up his fists. He’s easily angered for someone who acts like a cool guy. That helps me if I piss him off hard enough. His expression shows he’s cooling down since he’s going from uber pissed to smug again.

“Pretty funny remark, I’ll give you that. However…”

His sudden pause instinctually makes me realize that the fight has begun. He throws a heavy punch. My body shifts out of the way, barely avoiding it. Three punches from me find their mark against his chest. Each blow gets the same reaction: a solid feeling. He must’ve built his chest for defense, so it’s a no-go. He brings his fists down like a meteor. I jump out of the way, causing him to stop short of hitting the ground. I take a crouched position after my dodge roll. Charging in without a plan is stupid. His build keeps him from sustaining any injuries around his chest, save for a few areas: His head and limbs.

“Proxy, you okay?” Richard yells from outside the warehouse.

“I’m cool. Lackeys, get your boss!”

“Yeah!”

They run for their boss, side by side. The new guy is going to intercept them. Now is my chance to get him with his pants down. My body enacts what my mind laid out as I charge at the new punk. With one leap, I tuck in my legs. A moment later, kicking his head, jerking it in the direction my feet are pushing.

“Pay attention to me, you son of a bitch!”

The palm of my left hand is first to touch the ground as my hand stretched out for it. Without a thought to begin it, my right leg hits the enemy in his right knee cap. A shrill scream escapes his lungs. With one hand on the ground, I use it to push myself away from my opponent, who slammed his foot against the hard, concrete ground, cracking it a little. It would be impressive if he wasn’t wearing steel-toed boots. Then again, it’s impressive he’s able to move with them.

“You little bastard.”

“Come on, big guy. An attack like that won’t settle this. No, we’re just getting started.”

Speeding off towards my enemy, I crouch with my arms in front of me. I slip past his intercepting attack, my first two strikes aim at his knees. He quickly uses his knee to hit me. However, I block it. My right arm wraps around his leg, striking with my left fist at his knee again. His knee-jerk reaction pushes me away from him. Not wanting to let him recover, I rush at him. His foot shoots forward as I approach. With a firm step to the side, I evaded the attack. Approaching him from the front, I chop the kneecap of the leg he used to kick while directing a kick to his head. I can feel it violently pressing and grinding against his head as I spin around.

A late punch comes right after I move back. This guy’s reaction time is terrible, sluggish in his strikes as well. This gives me the edge of coming in and out from attacking him as I continue my assault against him. The longer this prolongs, the more exhausted he’s going to become from trying to hit me and tanking attacks.

“Why don’t you...just...stop moving!” His breathing is erratic, looking like he’s gonna pass out any second. “You think you’re all that? Well, guess what: I have a secret attack.”

"Really, then let's see this--"

A warning blares off in my brain, telling me that someone’s about to hit me over the head from behind. Trusting this instinct, I duck, avoiding the attack. Taking a quick glance behind me, it’s the chick that was sitting on this dude’s lap. Her face turns to shock, seeing that she missed me.

“Boo,” I shout at her. She jumps back, scared by my sudden surprise. “Seriously, this is the best you got? This is disappointing. Let’s end this already.”

“Screw you, you little bastard! I’ll end you!”

Proclaiming this, he charges forward. The pure rage on his face shows that he's forgone a plan. I thought this guy was a monster with a particular way of fighting, but it just turns out he banked on his bulk and height. Honestly, so disappointing.

“Sorry, man, but you’re the one who’s going down.”

Closing in, he goes for a grab, enclosing both his arms around me. The attack is easy to read since it’s telegraphed. He’s done.

One punch to his knee is all it takes for him to fall to pieces. To say he screamed would be an understatement, as his voice echoes from the warehouse into the night sky. He clenches his knee as he drops to the ground.

"Looks like that did it," I tell him, approaching without any worries in the world.

"W-what did you do to my leg?" he spits out his words, desperate to get the words out.

"I kept hitting it until it weakened. You running with it did you no favors, so it made it easier to reach its breaking point."

Lauren told me about this tactic a while back. She said we all put an amount of pressure on our legs when walking, running, or standing. So I kept punching and kicking till his legs were tuckered out. They aren’t broken, but he’s not walking for a while.

"Duncan, why the hell are you just sitting there!? Get up and finish him!"

The girl behind me demands yelling in an annoying ass voice.

I turn to her, putting my index finger against my lip. "Be quiet, you're too noisy."

She shuts her lip, stepping back from me in fear. I turn my attention back to my opponent.

"...Do you see now? You wanted to fight me. This is what happens; this is what it means to fight!" I kick his face, knocking him out in one go. "Now go to sleep."

His head hits the ground with a loud thump, the air runs silent and so does everyone else in this abandoned warehouse. The silence itself is an indicator that I won…

"He did it," one lackey announces, yelling inside the warehouse. "He did, you did it, he did it!"

"Yeah, he best da shit out of dat bastard!"

They dance around like a pair of idiots as the woman makes a break for it, leaving her man and the Russian behind. Yep, that settles it. This is my victory… Why does that feel hollow?

Richard runs up to me, nearly tripping himself. He grabs my shoulders when he reached me. "Proxy, you did it.

"Did you doubt me?"

"Not for a single second!"

Feels good to hear that. Now that all of this is settled, I'll go see if the punk is okay.

…

The punk is opening his eyes after a few minutes of waiting and lightly slapping his cheeks. He sits up from off the ground as we surround him.

"Guys… Proxy?"

"Yo."

"Boss," his lackeys cry, lunging at him in celebration.

"Hey, get off me! I said get off!"

He pushes them off him with the force of a piston. He gets up from the ground, brushing himself off.

"You okay?" I ask. He stays dead quiet, averting his eyes away from me. "Hey, you hear me?"

"Y-yeah...I do."

"Then are you okay?"

"Yeah…"

He's acting more reclusive than he usually is. Well, at least he's okay, but still…

"Why did you go after that guy?" He hangs his head low, still avoiding eye contact. "...You should've known he was going to kick your ass. I mean, are you stupid, or are you stupid?"

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I'm not as angry as I was before, but I want to know if he’s just stupid, or if he has a death wish.

“I know,” he whispers.

“Know what?”

“...I know I’m weak!”

“Boss, ya ain’t weak!”

“Yeah, you’re--”

“Quiet! Let me speak… Deep down inside, I knew I wouldn’t win against that guy. I knew ‌you were right about me, but I just… I just wanted to prove to you ‌I was strong. I wanted to show you how far I’ve come.”

“Why do you care what I think?”

“Because you gave me the inspiration to fight for my ‌sake!”

Since when did I ever do that? Richard and the others look just as confused as I am.

“You lost me,” I plain-out tell him.

“When we were kids, you saved me from some bullies, then you told me ‌I should get stronger. After that day, I did just that.” There were a lot of kids I saved from bullies, so I can’t say I remember him specifically. “...That’s why I wanted to prove my strength, so you can see that your words struck me, like a bat over the head.”

“So that’s why you always try to jump Proxy?” Richard guesses.

“Yeah, but I can see that it was a waste of time. I ain’t that strong, I’m still weak…”

He sinks to his knees with his head hung low. His hands ball up, quivering with shame. His lackeys are growing concerned for him. Man, I didn’t know someone would take me seriously when I told them that. To be honest, I never said it to help them, but just to air out what was on my mind… Still, I can’t leave the guy like this.

“Get up, you look pathetic.”

“Proxy!” Richard shakes me with one hand on my shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Come on, get up!” I lift him from the ground, letting him go to stand on his own. “So you're okay with being weak?”

“What?”

“Dumbass, I asked if you want to be weak forever!?”

“No, but--”

“No buts, just get stronger. If it’s so simple for you to give up, then I guess you like being below someone’s foot?”

“Of course I don’t!”

“Then why the hell would you want to be weak? Didn’t it piss you off just being pushed around?”

“It did!”

“Then guess what? It’ll happen again if someone stronger comes, and it’ll only be a matter of time before they have their foot on top of your head. So tell me, do you still wanna give up on growing stronger, or is that too hard?”

The punk’s body shakes, his fists still clenched. He shoots his head upward, facing me with a determined expression. His eyes are screaming, “to hell with that”.

“Screw that! Nothing’s hard for me! I ain’t gonna be nobody’s bitch! Just watch, I’ll grow stronger, and I’ll prove you didn’t waste your words on me; I swear on my soul.”

Hell yeah, now that’s what I wanted to hear. This guy may have a long way to go, but he’s off to a good ass start.

“Then I want to know your name. Kind of funny that I don’t know it, considering you've been jumping me for the longest time.”

His friends always call him boss, and he has little to no street cred, so his name has been a mystery for the longest time.

“It’s Angelo. I wanted to tell you my name when I beat you, but I’ll tell you now so you can look forward to the fight.”

“Sure thing.”

We shake hands. Our grips are as tight as we can make them. He doesn’t flinch, despite how tight I’m grasping his hand, and while I’m able to grin and bear his, his grip is nothing to flinch at… Maybe he can get stronger… Kinda exciting.

“B-boss! Sirens!”

I was so caught up in my thoughts that the sirens went past my notice. The repetitive sound draws closer as it approaches the warehouse. A car comes to a stop near us. The passenger and driver seat doors open. Birch and Lauren come from the car, Holly is in the back seat, waving at me with her happy expression.

“Lauren told me the situation. Is everyone okay?” Birch is the first one to open his mouth. He comes in, checking out Angelo. “You okay? Do you need a doctor?”

“No, I’m fine, sir. Wait, speaking of which! Proxy, that punk, what did you do with him?”

“Oh, him. He’s in the warehouse, taking a nice nap with his friend.”

Birch heads into the warehouse by himself while Lauren sticks with us.

“So, how strong was the guy,” Lauren asks me, not surprised that I beat him.

“He was all brawn and no brains. I tried that tactic about stressing the knee, worked like a charm.”

“Nice to see you deploying tactics every once in a while.”

“Yeah, guess it ain’t all that bad.”

“Still, I didn’t think the guy was willing to take someone hostage to fight you. That just goes to show that punks are growing more and more dangerous,” she states.

“Hopefully, it doesn't get any worse,” Richard says.

“He’ll be a message for anyone else that wants to face me, and a damn good one.”

“Are you sure?” Richard questions.

“Eh, not too sure, but hey, at least he’ll stay away.”

Hopefully, someone won’t pull shit like this again. If someone wants to fight me, then all they have to do is ask.

Birch walks out of the warehouse, putting his phone away. “I called the paramedics, they should be here within a few minutes.”

“What about the police?”

“They’ll be questioned when they wake up, and when that happens, I’ll need you guys to give a testimony to what happened.”

Standard stuff, but I don’t feel like doing that. Then again, he might just come to my apartment and drag me to the station, so running now won’t do me any good.

“Fine, we’ll give a statement, but it’ll be this: we had a fight as punks, nothing more and nothing less.”

“Come on, give a better statement," Birch demands.

“No better way to say it, sir. We fought like punks, and that’s all there is to it,” Angelo parrot.

When you think about it, Angelo went to Duncan as a challenger, then got his ass kicked. So he was searching for danger of his own accord. Angelo seems to understand this, so that means we’re dead set on that.

“Don’t be stupid, just give an appropriate statement,” Lauren chastises us. We hold our tongues in response. “God, are you all idiots?”

Richard flinches, stunned, for some reason. “Why are you involving me?”

“Are you going to say the same thing as them?”

“Well…”

“Actually, there’ll be no need,” Birch chimes in, surprising Lauren.

“Dad?”

“There’ll be no need for them to, not if they had run away before I got here.”

Oh, I know what he's going with this, and I like it.

“Mr. Birch, are you going to let us leave?”

“Not leave, more like getaway.”

“What are you going to do, dad?”

“I’ll deal with it. You guys should get going. And you…” Birch points to Angelo. “...Get your face patched up.”

“O-okay! Thank you, sir! Come on, guys!”

Angelo and his friends run, regardless of his injuries. Dude must be a quick healer.

“Proxy, you better get going, too.”

It would be a great time to go, but then who’s gonna take credit for this? Plus, we need to fill this story out properly.

“I changed my mind. I think I’ll stay.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Course I do. I can’t let anyone else take credit for beating those bozos in there. So, I’ll take credibility.”

I sit on the ground, waiting for the paramedics to arrive. Birch and Lauren rub the back of their necks at the same time. Yeah, I can tell it's a bit of a headache for them, especially when he gave me the perfect chance to escape.

Richard takes a seat on the ground next to me.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask him, puzzled by his decision.

“Yeah, I am. What about you?”

“I’ll stay too. It’s only right since I was a witness.”

“Alright then, tell them the story about how I kicked ass.”

“Sure thing."

Lauren lets out a sigh. "You two are morons, you know that? Well, I might as well help bulk out the story as well."

She takes a seat with us, whipping out her phone to play a game on it.

Birch just chuckles out loud as he watches us sitting. "Geez, you kids are just rowdy… Not that I mind one bit.

6/22 - the center of NewPort - afternoon

Richard and I are walking down a busy sidewalk. People are coming from school, or are going to work, an average walk home in NewPort.

Talk about that big guy died down after I defeated him. My reputation grew even bigger with punks and school gangs alike, fanning the flame of my infamy. Although, I did get into trouble for it, but the school gave me a slap on the wrist and nothing more. As long as you don’t fight on the school premises, they could care less, and that’s fine by me. Overall, I’m glad I resolved this new punk stuff before it got out of hand. However, I haven’t seen Angelo since the other day. I wonder if he’s doing okay.

“Hm, well, speak of the devil,” I whisper to myself.

“What…? Oh, isn’t that Angelo?”

He came out of a corner store with a bag in his hand. His face covered with patches and bandages on his arms. He turns to see us.

“Hey, Angelo,” Richard casually greets him, waving at him.

Angelo says nothing, wearing a rough look, but not in the sense that he’s angry to see me. He just walks over to me. I don’t feel as if he wants to fight me, so I’m not gonna take a fighting stance. He approaches me, staring me down with those sharp eyes. Mine don’t avert from his powerful gaze. There’s no mistaking it. He’s not the same guy he was before.

“I see you’re doing fine,” I open the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m cool. My mom was furious when I came home lookin’ like this.”

“Must’ve been a nightmare.”

“Nightmare doesn’t describe it…” He sticks his hand forward. “...But I’m still gonna grow stronger, no matter what.”

“I don't doubt it.”

We go for a hi-five that thunders throughout the streets, despite the loud cars and people walking and talking around us. Yep, this guy is definitely going nowhere but up from here, and I can’t wait to see where it leads.

We end up going our own ways after that. Richard and I head further down the street, gaining a view of the opera house. There’s an enormous banner on it that says, “7th anniversary of the Blackout Fire incident.” The concert is being held there… I can't help but laugh a little at the thought. Excitement boils inside my gut.

"What's funny?" Richard asks.

"Nothing. Say, tomorrow, come by my apartment after school, before 5:00 P.M."

"What's going on?"

"It's a surprise."

"Okay, but I'll come by after I get changed."

"Cool, you better be looking your best."

Sweet! Tomorrow is going to be awesome, I can feel it!

Opera house - afternoon

In the gigantic opera house, inside a room filled with an indescribable malice, spreading around like mist. A worker who walked into the room paying the price for their curiosity; being drained, falling into a deep slumber. The perpetrator of this act and the owner of this essence that makes others walk away with sudden cold shivers, is sitting on a chair at the back of the wall. He watches the clock on the wall across from him tick down…

"Tomorrow, the day shall come, and the harvest will begin."

He chuckles to himself as the clock's hands continue to move. Tomorrow, a new incident will hit the opera house that will change the lives of two boys.