Ho ho ho peoples! Happy December! No stupid jokes to start out the blog this time. I just want you all to read my story and tell me what you all think!
Now, just to let you know, I orginally wrote this for my creative writing c-l-a-s-s as a short story, so this is just about the halfway point of the whole story. Now I'm turning it into a full fleged story and this is the first chapter. Well, I will if you guys like it! So PLEASE!!! leave a comment telling me if and why it sucks or not. I also decided the original title I chose was bad, so I will try and come up with another one.
So without further anticipation... here it is!
'I don't care how much money is in this thing…it wasn't worth all that trouble of keeping it', Dante Willis thought, just waking up from the events of the previous night. His entire body ached and moaned to stay comatose for the rest of the week, bruises tattooed his arms in tenderness and his head felt like it was used as a bongo, but on his chest sat a tattered wallet with cash brimming from the edges. 'OK, maybe it was worth it,' he thought cheeringly, lifting himself up from the reeking cot.
He counted out around $300 in twenties from the wallet he fought so hard to keep. He grinned to himself. Stealing it was usually easy; keeping it is the real chore. He just needed to find an overworked suit waiting for a cab. All Dante had to do was make sure he got a cab first, seem like a saint for all of twenty seconds, and then he won't be making his cab fare.
Cell phones are the pick-pockets greatest weapon these days. And this guy was screaming at the earpiece like he was facing the man on the other side of the line, so I could have ripped his pants off and hung them off the Brooklyn Bridge, he wouldn't have noticed for a while.
'Unfortunately, some wannabe gangsters decided they would relieve me of my burden. I relieved them of their clothes and dumped them down a sewer drain when I was done with them. They should be waking up about now,' he thought.
He rolled out of bed, thinking of how to spend the money when he remembered he wanted to see Slits tonight. He would need new clothes so he didn't go in looking like he was getting in fights every night, even though he was.
Dante grabbed a stolen leather jacket lying on the floor and looked at the picture of his mother, smiling at the camera in her police uniform. He bowed his head in a quick prayer to her and jumped out of the dumpster. He brushed himself off a bit and walked out of the alley into the throng of Philadelphia.
The smell of this city on a Sunday evening is difficult to identify. You've got the remnants of Eagles tailgaters with their BBQs and beer, the restaurants with all their leftover cheese steaks and onions, and the constant stink of gasoline. The sun was beginning to set, making the earth around him look like pictures he'd seen of Mars and the skyscrapers could have been passed for the spaceships from Independence Day.
Dante went out and headed out into the city, avoiding kamikaze taxi drivers and minivans with their nervous mothers. Traffic was pretty light considering a playoff game had just ended. He needed the peace and not all the swearing of angry businessmen trying to get home anyway. The many suits walking around him plugged into Blackberries and other various electronics. He walked through the endless wave of commercial drones of business and noticed a Chinese delivery guy on a bike ahead of him.
'I am pretty hungry' Dante thought. He jutted his foot just an inch out to the side. The delivery guy hit Dante's foot and the bike launched forward and flew into the air. The bike flipped over and the delivery guy lost his grip on the bag of food he was carrying and landed on an awaiting pile of garbage bags. I grabbed the bag of take-out from the air and looked inside. 'Moo Shoo Pork? What the hell!' Dante complained to himself.
Dante grabbed the delivery guy and helped him up and handed him the bag.
"Terribly sorry, sir. Please do forgive my clumsiness." Dante lied, sounding like an out-of-town tourist.
"Watch your feet next time, punk!" the delivery guy barked, possibly unaware Dante had even apologized. The delivery man grabbed his bike and zoomed off to his destination, a little worse for wear. 'At least these guys have the spine to stand up for themselves, unlike New York.' Dante thought as he headed to his favorite take-out place and devoured some orange chicken. From there he headed to the subway tunnel and grabbed a train going south.
Sitting there surrounded by lackluster colors and maps of the subway system and the sound of a woman's sing-song voice telling you to watch where you step caused Dante to yawn out of boredom. The faint smell of spray-on deodorant of the guy who forgot to shower for his date and the leftovers of the early morning coffee was punishing Dante's nostrils. The sheer dullness this place represented made him shiver in disgust. 'I wonder why so many people spend years in college for... this,' he thought
He got off a few stops later and started walking towards one of the dirtiest parts of the city. Eventually, traffic quieted to one beat up jalopy that would make Al Gore cringe every few minutes and the soft pounding of a basketball against pavement off in the distance. Smoke blurred the view ahead of me; I couldn't see my feet in front of me. All the new factories and warehouses made this place an industrialized wasteland. Only difference, the monsters here don't kill you. These monsters play for keeps and their playhouse was the Firehouse
The Firehouse sticks out in this neighborhood, a faint silhouette of grandeur. The lampposts surrounding the building were the only ones still to work in the neighborhood. Even though it has been abandoned a little over ten years, the paint was a fine crimson red, like fresh blood. The rest of the building was in serious disrepair. Graffiti covered the walls like a warm coat against the chill of the November winds. Bricks were torn from the walls and were thrown around the entire property. The garage door was rusted and had a gaping rift in it, probably from the frightened masses trying to escape it. The place had been abandoned after a fire swallowed the place and killed at least seven firefighters. Perfectly dismal for Slits needs.
I climbed the through the hole in the garage door and came up to the steel door in the wall. I went inside and found a bouncer sleeping in his chair. 'Slits needs to tighten up the screening process,' Dante thought passing by the menacing oaf with a nod.
The inside of the Firehouse is just as beautiful as the outside. The lights hanging from the ceiling were sickly white, making everyone in the place seem like they have never seen the light of day. Posters of fighting events all around the world covered the walls. The highlight of the entire room was the large, circular arena elevated a few feet in the air so no one will interfere with the proceedings. Just above the arena floor was a skylight whose glass was replaced with a one-way mirror for Slits' amusement, so he could watch his fighters without leaving his cave above the arena. Slits once told Dante it also makes him feel like God: you can't see him, but he can see you. He got quite a laugh out of this.
The various mismatched chairs and the catwalks hanging from the ceiling were pushed to the limits as the huddled masses of ferocious spectators stood and began to erupt as the two fighters in the ring reached the peak of the fight. The fight was between a slender Asian boy that struck me as some young Jet Li and a girl I couldn't believe fought for a living, and didn't spend her days modeling in Milan.
The girl was around 5'9 and lithe, yet strong. Her eyes were sea green, like watery jewels and they curved like the eyes of a cat. Her long brown hair flowed like the tide, with beautiful waves and curls. Her skin glowed in the arena, like she had her own personal sun to shun out the pale lights of the lifelessness of the place around her. She wore a plain gray shirt under a leather jacket, black jeans and two inch heels. 'Heels? Is she crazy?' Dante thought.
The young Jet Li swung his foot out from the right and the girl ducked underneath it. While she was prone to the floor, her foot flew forward and nailed his other leg while the other was still out in the air, causing him to lose his balance and tumble down. She sprung up and placed her foot on the poor kid's stomach.
'There's the benefit of the heels,' Dante laughed to himself.
The girl leaned over and stared her opponent in the face, crushing his rib cage even further. She spat on him. The crowd hollered in glee at that display of haughtiness. She moved and let Jet Li stand and get ready for another attack.
"Ashe! Ashe! Ashe!" The horde bellowed in gory delight. The girl, Ashe, let loose a flurry of quick jabs at him. As he went to defend one punch, another came just opposite of where he went. The pummeling went on until the guy just fell to his knees and passed out the mat. Cheers hit the roof and the loudspeakers let out a siren, announcing Ashe's name over and over again.
Ashe jumped over the ropes with ease. I knew she was something else. Beautiful and deadly. 'Kiss me, I love it,' Dante thought as went over to where she was, but he couldn't find her. Dante looked around and found her again; and he lost her again. This cycle progressed a few times before Dante felt a tap on his shoulder.
"If you wanted to talk to me, you need an appointment. I'm really popular right now, in case you haven't noticed." Ashe said.
"I'm sure you can squeeze someone as charming as me into your schedule," Dante responded, "The name's Dante and I am always popular and we popular people must stick together."
"Then how come I don't know who you are, Mr.…?" Ashe asked him.
"Dante. I am starting to wonder why I don't know you. You are way too good for this place. We could go out, have a good time?" He responded.
She found his cockiness quite appealing and more than a bit condescending. "You aren't as charming as you think you are. I'll bet you're already thinking what makes me immune to your wit and good looks, right?" Ashe countered.
"I don't think I am charming at all. I'm going by what other people have told me," Dante said, impervious to her lack of interest.
"How much did you pay them before they said that?" Ashe asked questioningly, grinning.
"Depends on how much is in your wallet a few minutes ago," Dante answered. Ashe was taken aback and found that her wallet was, in fact, gone. Dante held it in between his index and middle fingers and grinned. 'Sweet victory' he smiled.
"Nice meeting you, Ashe." Dante said and he tossed the wallet back to her, smiling at her shock.
Dante walked around glad-handing his friends and other various acquaintances he knew personally or through Slits. He walked about the stalls of various contraband sellers. The petty black market dealers loved working the Firehouse with their knock-off leather jackets, stolen jewelry and misplaced cell phones.
He remembered how he once did runs for those dealers, going out and "picking up merchandise" and selling the plunder to the highest bidder. Simpler times. Now everyone can just smuggle the stuff into the country, cut out the middle man trying to earn a living.
'Just blame it on the recession,' Dante told himself.
Dante noticed the bouncer, with a nametag that said Harry, who had failed to see Dante enter earlier, was awake and had somehow located him.
"Slits wants to see you, kid. Said it was urgent. How long you been here?" Harry asked.
"Just walked in. I wondered why you weren't there, Harry boy, made me a bit sad not to see you." Dante lied pleasurably.
"Just get up there." Harry growled, seeing through the veil of Dante's charisma. Dante chuckled to himself at Harry's contempt, as he went over the small circular staircase leading upstairs.
When Dante made it up to the second floor, a place where many of his nightmares took place, it reminded him of all the old aches of Slits' brutal 'exercise program', as he called it. The walls had well done knock-offs of several famous art pieces, paintings from Da Vinci and Michelangelo. All the furniture was plush with pillows and the smell of smoke. Slits sat in a recliner near the skylight, observing the rabid crowds below.
"It's pathetic what these whelps consider a real bare knuckle brawl these days, huh son? We need someone like Mike Tyson to get in here and get his hands dirty." Slits sighed in a voice like a car over a rocky road.
Aiden "Slits" Mason was a poster child for what not to do with your life before you hit thirty. The guy was burly and muscular, but his skin sagged all around his face, which was set in a perpetual frown. Whenever he did smile, it showed his yellowed teeth and his one blackened tooth. His hair was a disheveled, greasy fur-ball, reminding me of a sewer cat. The name Slits came from the countless scars on his arms from when he was attacked by gangster at 9.
"Whatever you say, Slits," Dante responded bleakly.
"You need to brighten up, son. You're to replace me one day." Slits began to lecture; "You and I are a lot alike, you know. We both can get everything we want out of the world, whenever we want it. We are whatever we want to be and more, my friend."
Dante looked up to see the man speaking to him and was almost sick. 'This is what I'm to become. Society's looking better all the time.' Dante thought.
"Now then, the situation at hand: the police are sticking their noses in a little deep and smelling my dirty laundry. I'm gonna need to lay low for a while. That's why I need you." Slits told Dante.
"No kidding. I thought I smelled some crap coming from the police station," Dante chuckled. Slits jumped out of his chair and slapped Dante hard.
"You remember when I showed you a rat in a trap? He either got the shock or the cheese. Get the shock enough times, and you'll learn proper behavior."
"What are you talking about, old man?" Dante asked.
"Oh shut up," Slits shrugged and sat back down. "Someone's gotta run this show while I take a vacation. I was thinking maybe Miami. Anyway, I want you in charge. I can give you a percentage of all money you earn in my absence."
"You told me to always keep my hands clean of this business." Dante said, irritation beginning to bloom under the surface.
"That's before everything we worked for is now in danger. We could lose everything!" Slits responded.
"I'm living out of a dumpster, eating whenever I steal the money to pay for it. What could they take from me? This is all about you." Dante scoffed.
"You think all those gangsters you steal from are complete idiots and just forget about it? No, they come to me looking for the culprit and I always send them down the rabbit hole, to protect you! If I leave, they'll come after you!" Slits howled, rage blazing through his voice.
An ultimatum: either I take on Slits dirty business or my dirty business comes after me.
"Fine. Have it your way," Dante growled.
"Wonderful. Now go out and have some fun for me tonight, eh?" Slits chuckled in delight, ignoring my sullen demeanor.
'I could only dream if the cops would come and find him,' Dante thought as he headed back downstairs. Dante would stand by and watch Slits struggle for freedom, like a baby trying to escape their mother's grasp. The thought made him put his tongue in cheek to stop himself from laughing.
Waiting at the foot of the staircase was Ashe.
"I wonder what the fat man wanted to talk to you about." Ashe wondered aloud
"You want something? Cause otherwise, I need a fight." Dante said callously.
"Alright then, fight me! Unless your morals can't let you fight a lady." Ashe challenged, tossing her hair back in arrogance.
'This girl is feisty!' Dante thought. But he had seen what happened to the Asian kid before him and started thinking about just how feisty she might be. Then he remembered their conversation earlier. She was calling him out and he couldn't stand by and let her.
"You're on!" Dante answered her.
They both made their way to the arena floor and found the fight coordinator. They both signed the papers and got ready for a fight. Word spread fast of Dante fighting and the masses began to crowd around the arena and take seats.
Dante was known for his brutal fighting skills and Ashe was known for her lightning agility and reflexes. The two fighters ducked under the ropes and stood at their corners, staring and measuring up the other. Dante zipped off his leather jacket, revealing the worn muscle shirt underneath, revealing his ropy muscles.
"I remember hearing back in China a few years ago, women just stayed at home and did what they were told my their husbands. Maybe you should try that," Dante said.
"Get it all out now, Dante, while you still look pretty," Ashe retorted.
The crowd was having a fit in anticipation for a fight they may never forget. Until they heard muffled gunshots coming from above their heads.
To be continued... possibly. :P I hope you all liked it!
And since I'm already writing a blog, I'm gonna tell you all that I am changing my theme soon. I won't tell you all until it happens!
One last thing, I am going to EPCOT Center on Friday for a field trip so if anyone would like a picture of anything in particular, just tell me before this time tomorrow.
Thanks for reading!
Razer
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