Of Violence and Cliché

by Joudrey, M. C.

  Rusty didn’t make a sound despite the pain he was obviously suffering, which was unnerving to say the least. What happened next was even more unsettling. Rusty slowly pulled the silver shaft out of his eye and then threw it back to the floor. A single stream of blood ran slowly from the wound. We both got to our feet and he lunged at me, though I was able to reach into my pocket, concealing the flick knife in my hand. I quickly pushed the release button on the flick knife and plunged it into his Rusty’s heart. He fell onto the floor and died mere seconds later, his cooling blood mixing with the other stains in the carpet.

  Rusty reverted to his Form. The Shrikun looked down at the black raccoon Form of his and they began to fight amongst themselves. Each wanted it for their own and eventually one of them won.

  I stood in horror at the idea of having to witness the terrifying act of a Shrikun devouring a Form, yet again. The experience was cut short however by a blunt pistol-whip. I didn’t lose consciousness completely, but was mostly senseless as they carried me up the stairs. So much for any plans I had made.

  I estimated my disorientation lasted about five minutes. I blinked my eyes hard and surveyed the room. Arnie was standing with his back to me, lighting a cigarette. I was tied to a steel chair that had been bolted to the ground. Beneath my chair, Arnie had placed a car battery and some cables with clamps on the ends.

  Karen was sitting in the only other chair in the room. She was not bound and looked generally unharmed. She was clearly afraid though, and for good reason. But she was alive and this alone kept me going.

  My chair was against a wall so I knew there was no one behind me. Arnie turned around and took a drag from his cigarette. He let the smoke out through his nose and then flicked the cigarette away, having barely smoked it.

  “You know what I don’t understand? Why a man like you would go to all that trouble for a dying, useless whore? Why is that? How does a man like you suddenly go soft like that? You, a man who has beaten other men to death, fucked whores to his heart’s content and has grown up under the system just like the rest of us? I thought about this and I thought hard. Then it came to me. You knew the feisty little bitch, didn’t you? Maybe she was a woman you used to poke? Nah. Someone you grew up with? A friend? No, I don’t think so. You say you grew up here, in this city. You sound like the city. But what do we really know about you?”

  “Do you want me to answer you or are you going to continue answering your own questions like some asshole?” There was no use trying to placate him at this point.

  He laughed genuinely and then went cold. People like him can do that and switch from one temperament to another without hesitation.

  “You were always sharp, Kendall. You can fight too, you really can. I liked you and what you could do with these!” He held up his fists and shook them.

  “I respect these. So I gave you big jobs, the things you asked for and you repaid me with a bullet. Now I find out about this as well.” He pointed at Karen without looking at her.

  “I think about that feisty whore and this other bitch and something doesn’t add up. I don’t think I’ll ever know the real truth.”

  “You might be right.”

  “I figured, but we’ll still try. It saddens me, all of this.” He waved his arms in the air. “You betrayed me, you betrayed yourself, and for what? They are just women, my friend. They are ours to do with as we see fit. This is a man’s world.”

  “Maybe so.”

  He came towards me and got down on his knees to fiddle with the car battery underneath my chair. I could hear the hum of power. I struggled a little to see if I could fight my way free, but I was bound and tied up well. Arnie wouldn’t make that type of mistake. Still on his knees, he looked up at me with nothing more than simple complacency in his eyes.

  “I take no joy in this. But I will enjoy myself with her, mark my words.”

  He tapped the nude ends of the clamps together and blue sparks burst from each.

  “We are good to go.” He touched the ends to my arms and I felt the white hot rush of electricity shoot into me. It lasted only a moment, but that moment felt like an hour. Steam left from my mouth as I exhaled. Karen was screaming at him to stop. She got up from her chair and started to come forward, and Arnie unsheathed his weapon and fired a warning round that just missed her. She fell back into her chair and cursed at him.

  “A good start for all of us, don’t you think?”

  Again he set the clamps against my bare skin and I convulsed violently. I was sure another jolt would kill me. But I had to take that chance.

  “Anything to say?”

  “Turn it up. I find it cold in here.”

  “My kind of fighter. This will most likely be your last.”

  I don’t remember much after that. I remember the initial contact and I do remember Karen screaming but nothing more. When I came to my senses, Arnie was standing over me, smiling and I was drooling profusely. I started to say something but nothing came out of my mouth except blood.

  “Looks like you’re bleeding quite badly. That’s a first.”

  I didn’t respond to his taunts. I raised my head and tried to keep my eyes from rolling back into my sockets.

  “You want to know the truth?” I was whispering.

  Arnie came a little closer to me so he could hear me better. “I do. But I don’t think you’ll tell me.”

  “Yes I will. I have no reason not to. Not at this point.” I spit out another mouthful of gooey blood.

  Arnie got down on his haunches so his face was next to mine.

  “I don’t want her to hear me.”

  Arnie looked over his shoulder at Karen, who I could tell was ready to fight to the death. That was the only gift I could give her, the one I wanted to give her in case things didn’t work out.

  Arnie turned back to face me and shuffled in closer. I started to speak in a whisper that made the words I was saying almost imperceptible. Arnie came closer still. I leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

  “I liked both of them, a lot. That’s the only reason.”

  Arnie smiled and his jugular bulged on his neck’s surface. I took the razor blade I had concealed in my mouth, the one from the medicine cabinet I had taken from my mother’s house and slid it forward on my tongue. The blade had ravaged my gums during my convulsions. I clamped my front teeth down hard on the blunt end, jerked my neck fiercely and raked the razor’s edge over his pulsing and protruding vein.

  Arnie’s eyes widened as I did it. Blood spurted from his neck onto my chest. He stumbled backward and fell. I watched him writhe on the floor, pressing his palm against the irreparable damage.

  Vengeful thoughts flooded my mind and in that moment, I hated this man more than anyone has ever hated anything. Then as suddenly as my volatile emotions had swelled within me, they were gone. I felt nothing. I was empty. I just watched him squirm a little more until he was still and dead. I spit the razorblade out of my mouth and tried to catch it in my hand but it was slick with blood and slipped to the floor.

  “Karen!” She was still looking at Arnie’s lifeless body on the floor and the almost perfect halo of blood around his head.

  “Come on, Karen! You have to get the razorblade and cut these zip ties around me. Hurry.”

  She came over to me and reached down to pick the blade up off the floor. She looked at me and froze.

  “It’s okay. Come on, you have to cut me free quickly.”

  She managed to cut through the first restraint and set my right hand free. I took the blade and cut myself loose from the other bonds. She helped me over to Arnie’s corpse and I reached underneath him and pulled out his .45. I looked her squarely in the eyes in an attempt to refocus the both of us.

  “Stay behind me and…” I wasn’t able to finish as a bullet went through my shoulder. The weapon I was holding came free from my hand and slid towards the far wall. I turned around and another slug went into my gut. I fell. It was over. I pressed one hand softly on the gaping woun
d in my stomach and removed it to see the crimson stain that covered my palm. It may seem ridiculous, but it was as if I needed verification that what I though had happened actually happened in reality.

  Pink was standing in front of me, holding a smoking beretta.

  “I told Arnie it wasn’t worth it, that he should just kill you and be done with it. He was sure there was something more going on with you and he needed to know. Fuckin’ broads, always get under our skin, don’t they?”

  I couldn’t move. My shoulder and my arm were useless, and I was bleeding out from my stomach wound. I had managed to prop myself up on my good arm, but I couldn’t hold that for long. I didn’t have a lot of time left, maybe only minutes.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Really?” asked Pink, mockingly.

  I scowled at him. He came over to me and crouched down to my level, which was Arnie’s big mistake. Sadly, I didn’t have any aces left up my sleeve.

  “This may surprise you, but I don’t like to see a man suffer when there’s no need for him to do so.”

  He raised his gun level with my eyes. I knew what was coming and I was ready for it. I had never been an evil man but as I said before, I was never one of the good ones. I had done what I could. I closed my eyes and heard the crack of the gun firing. I opened my eyes instinctively at the sound, and realized that Karen had fired a single round at Pink but missed. He spun around and trained his weapon on her. With my final bit of strength, I swung my arms around his legs to get him off balance, and managed to jostle the weapon from Pink’s hand just as it fired. Although the shot missed Karen’s torso, the bullet found another mark and knocked the pistol she was holding from her hand.

  Pink got to his feet and ran towards her before she could scoop up the weapon. He grabbed her by her throat and slammed her violently against the wall. As he began to choke her, he took his free hand and started to slide it under her dress. She tried to wriggle free but he only tightened his grip on her.

  “I want his last moments on this earth to be spent watching what I am going to do to you. It is going to be depraved and ever so violent.”

  Her eyes started to roll back in her head from lack of oxygen and then she remembered the razorblade I had handed back to her. She managed to find some strength to rake the blade across Pink’s cheek. It cut him deeply and blood ran from the wound down his face. I could see his grip loosen and he instinctively removed his hand from beneath her dress to touch his face. With the little fresh air that had suddenly filled her lungs, she drove her knee into his crotch. A guttural sound escaped his lips and he doubled over. She took two handfuls of his hair and drove his face into the wall. I heard a cracking sound and Pink stumbled onto the floor. Blood was flowing freely from his nose, which was now horribly broken. He looked up at her, with rage.

  “Fucking bitch. I’m going to really hurt you.”

  Karen showed no sign of fear. I watched in amazement as she got into a fighters stance and put up her fists just like I’d shown her. Pink spat blood and then started to laugh at her, mockingly.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Karen didn’t say a word and held her position.

  Pink looked down at the gun. It was between them. He started to move towards it and Karen advanced on him.

  “Fine, I’ll go a round with you.” Pink moved in on her. Karen waited for him and then threw a left jab and then a right jab. Both connected. It was a perfect “One-Two” combination. Pink staggered backwards, more from shock than from any pain.

  “Fuck!” She had goaded him, which was to her advantage. People make big mistakes when they lead in with rage. Pink made this mistake, and went after her with his full force. She held firm and jabbed him in his broken snout and then hit him hard with a beautiful right hook. He stumbled to his knees, with his hands covering his face.

  Karen ran forward and picked up the weapon as Pink started to crawl away from her in a pathetic effort to escape. She fired two rounds; the first missed its mark and the second buried itself into his groin. He wailed in pain. Karen attempted to shoot him again, but the next shot barely grazed his ear.

  Pink continued to drag himself in my direction, moaning pathetically as he did. She continued to fire unwieldy rounds until finally, a slug penetrated the right side of his chest with a dull thud. Still, she kept firing even though there were no bullets left and the weapon made an empty clicking sound. He stopped moving, his breathing slow and laboured. She lowered the weapon and stared down at him in disgust.

  Pink looked over at me, his mouth agape. “I knew…” Whatever else he was going to say got strangled in his throat.

  I realized that this man was the reason for so much pain and suffering. He had fooled many people, including me, into thinking that Arnie was the man behind it all. I watched him choke and gasp for precious air that would no longer come.

  “While we’re waiting here, let me tell you a little story, Pink.”

  Pinks eyes widened only slightly as his life began to run away from him. He tried to move but his strength had left him.

  “Dark Agnes de Chastillon was a woman that men tried to enslave but she rebelled, killed her captors, and won her freedom. She would later become a warrior and helped bring down an entire empire, or so the story goes.”

  Pink coughed and little spots of blood smattered along his lips in an effort to talk.

  “Only fiction…” He tried to laugh, but only continued to cough.

  “Is it though?” I looked up at Karen as I said it. Pink’s eyes followed mine and the smile on his dying face was replaced with one of humiliation as the gurgling sound of his last breath escaped his lungs.

  A Shrikun emerged from behind me and walked towards its two prizes. I had never seen one exercise such patience before. I watched in horror as it acquired Arnie’s black jackal Form and then with its giant gaping maw swallowed Pink’s black tiger Form. Their fetid stink froze my heart. Witnessing a Shrikun perform this terrifying act almost caused me to feel pity for its victims, these truly evil men. Almost, but not quite.

  Karen was still holding the weapon and pointing it towards Pink, clearly suffering from shock.

  “He’s dead and the weapon is empty. Karen,” I called to her gently.

  She looked at me, blankly.

  “Karen, he’s dead. Go grab the other gun. It’s likely someone else will be showing up here right away.”

  She brought it over to me, silently.

  “We need to get you some shooting lessons.”

  She didn’t laugh at my ill-timed joke, nor did I. She stood over me, my unlikely protector. Against my will, I lost consciousness.

  CHAPTER 30

  April Fool’s Day

  My head was resting in gathers of royal blue silk. I was in Lamia’s lap and she was stroking my hair. Maneki was there too, sitting by my side silently. Lamia gazed down at me with heavy eyes.

  “I’m going to miss our mutual antagonism, Willie.”

  I looked up at her, a little bewildered. I searched the room for Shrikun but none could be seen. I wondered if you couldn’t see them when they were coming for you, but to be honest, I didn’t want to find out.

  I tried to move and winced in pain. I looked back into Lamia’s face but it was now Karen who was holding me in her arms. She looked me up and down. Her eyes welled up.

  “You’re dying.”

  “I am.”

  “Can I talk you out of it?” She attempted a smile. For a moment, she shifted into her Form and I looked into the scared dark eyes of a white deer. My eyelids had become so heavy and they started to close.

  “Please, don’t,” she whispered. Had there been anyone else in the room, they would not have heard it.

  I realized I had forgotten one final item and I pried my eyes open as best I could. I fished into my pocket and placed what I was looking for into her hand.

  “What’s this?”

  I hadn’t the strength to explain it. Everything she needed to know was i
n her hand, anyway. She buried her face in mine and I could feel the warmth of her skin against my cheek. In that moment, the pain from my wounds left me. I could hear her sobs grow fainter until I couldn’t hear them anymore.

  CHAPTER 31

  Revelations and the Like

  You’d like what you do in life to matter. It could be an arrogant and self-important human concept, and it probably is. But regardless of motivation, it is a notion that is as inescapable as fate.

  It was a Tuesday like any other when I was hit for the first time. Donald Sterling hit me hard enough to make it count and I remember the salty taste of blood on my tongue. I was 11.

  Eight years later, the World Boxing Association sanctioned a fight with the existing welterweight champion of the world, Oscar De La Hoya. It was a title match and his opponent’s name was William Jackson. That’s me.

  I had been fighting my whole life on the streets and I fought my way into a world championship match. I didn’t show up at the weigh-in and that was the end of that. But I’ll tell you right now that Mr. De La Hoya was no match for me. He was pretty though, for a pugilist. I would have been the first Canadian welterweight champion of the world since Lou Brouillard in 1932. But I’m blowing old smoke, and old smoke is stale by nature.

  The item I had placed in Karen’s hand was a key. The key had a piece of masking tape wrapped around it, with a name on one side and an address on the other. The address was for a place she was sure she had never been before, and she was right.