Proposal
Honestly, I hate a lot of things in life…
Seemingly, most people had a lot of things they hated, but I had one thing in particular that I absolutely abhorred above all else.
The one thing, I honestly, hate the most about my profession: is the noise...
Here in the back alleyway, the roar of the ecstatic crowd was dulled through the layers of soundproofing cement walls forming the club's hideaway.
In its own way the multi layers of cemented walls worked.
Yet, it was like smothering a screaming woman with a pillow; every so often the echo of the club's guests would vibrate outside the club.
Like a stupid-brat playing with the volume controls, each time the iron-door of the club's back entrance opened, the fan's thunderous roars could be heard once again.
The irritating racket would pour out with an ear cringing force.
However despite the occasional interruption, it was the only place I could seek refuge or solstice… usually at least.
Not many people came out here so late at night.
Eyeing the drug deal happening down at the end of the dark alleyway, it was easy enough to conclude that this wasn't the safest area around these parts.
But what else could you expect from the slums?
Beneath the stairs of the club's back entrance was like a haven to me…
It was usually a nice place to relax between shows, but hearing the retardly girlishly laugh floating from above, I knew tonight's peace was all but ruined.
Tonight, I'm plagued by slutty whores…I thought with a long dramatic sigh.
The fans had probably watched as I left out through the back entrance and were looking for a little action.
Dumb bitches never understand that showing a little ass doesn't always get you out of trouble, especially in these parts…
I heard them long before I could see them.
At first it was the obnoxious whine of their grating voices, then the shine of their child-sized, over sequined, clothing.
Even before they came into my line of vision, I hated the damn tramps.
From beneath the towering overhang of the club's back entrance, I could see up their skirts from where I sat enjoying my last smoke break for the night.
The one with the large breasts, spilling over the tiny, low-cut, dress she wore wasn't wearing any underwear beneath her sparkling black-sequined gown.
God why are their so many sluts in my profession, I wondered.
These bitches were always the same, as fake as the lips painted on their faces.
They all wanted a piece of the pie, they enjoyed the thrill of being with someone like me for some type of sick reason.
He-he… giggle-giggle… OMG-…
Each one acted in the exact same, revolting, way.
… Dumb bitches…
They never had a clue, as if their looks alone was enough to get them though in life, they had no idea of the things out there…
It really makes a person jealous.
It's bad enough having to put up with their shit inside,I growled annoyed.
Now I have to listen to this shit here?!
They giggled and laughed as they searched for me up and down the alleyway; both letting out a disappointed mewl when they couldn't see me…
"Akuma is in the line-up for tonight, right?" Throbbing Cunt 1 asked doubtfully.
I could almost hear the sincere disappointment in her voice, She must think that I've left the club for good tonight, I guessed.
"Ah YEAH-!" Horny Bitch 2 said sarcastically, as the two whores giggled excitedly.
"He's so fucking hot!" the first skank purred with a euphoric shudder.
I could feel the tick in my brow begin to throb as the two mentally gang-banged me in their in their fucked up minds.
I sighed heavily once more, blowing a black lock of hair from my eyes.
GR-rrreat… I just had to run into a pair of MY fans…
"Oh My God, I know right?! His tattoos are so hot… I'd love to get my tongue on that one just below his belly-button," TC1 sighed dreamily.
Bitch it's called a navel… I thought as I rolled my eyes.
Really… these bitches are so stupid.
"Fuck yeah, the one with the horns? Maybe we can hook up with him tonight? Maybe if we both try together we can get his attention, it wouldn't be our first threesome," HB2 suggested with a low suggestive grin.
Dream on bitches…I thought as I blew a puff of smoke up at them.
I couldn't help but think how weird their legs looked as I stared up the two's skirts through the meshed gapes of the metal overhang.
Like some type of high-heel strapped, twisted, boney work of abstract art, their legs looked short, their thighs non-existent from my perch below them.
I leaned back against the metal stairs cutting into my back, trying to get more comfortable as I looked up at the two girls.
"Could you imagine a night with the Akuma?" TC1 cried out loudly.
"Oh My God, Yes-! Those muscles, that ass… I wonder how many tattoos he has?" HB2 squealed…, 42 I instinctively thought.
All without sleeves, I grinned broadly.
TC1 sighed dramatically as she shivered with complete bliss, "Could you imagine just being near Akuma?"
Dumb broad, I'm squatted down right below you smoking… looking up at those pink-lacy undergarments you're wearing.
I flinched when out of nowhere a deep voice rang out, "Who gives a shit about that little emo-bastard?!" over my head, a large, burly figured sped up the stairs angrily.
He took the steps two-three, all at once, ascending them with a shit-face grin and confident swagger as he approached the two girls.
The #1 Asshole, Rex, has finally arrived, my inner MC thought loudly.
… Rex… I shit you not… three guess as to what his stage name is…
HB2 giggled nervously, "Omg- it's REX-!" she cried doing that retarded jump-dance dumb bitches do when they get excited.
It's just so painfully obvious they don't know how retard they look when they do that… especially without underwear, I added with a second glance upwards.
She had grabbed onto TC1's arm, as if expecting her friend to do the same, but rather instead the tiny girl glared up at the 6'9 Dwayne Johnson.
The little blonde's body was rigid with anger, almost as if she'd been the one called a 'little emo-bastard' instead of me…
"Say what you want, but he beats you any day…" she puffed out heatedly.
From Throbbing Cunt 1 to My #1 Favorite Fan, I silently laughed, suddenly liking the pink-underwear girl a lot more...
Her bimbo of a friend hissed at her warningly, but M#1FF shrugged her off.
"We'll see about that…," Rex said dangerously as he bowed up to the 4'6 girl, bumping his huge chest against M#1FF as he looked down at her threateningly.
It had only been a slight tap with his chest, but it was more than enough to cause M#1FF to loose her footing… mostly because of those six inch heels the stupid girl wore, strapped to her legs.
The bastard laughed as M#1FF stumbled backwards from his chest bump.
I felt guilty just sitting there as the dumb little blonde stood up for me to Rex… but I wasn't about to start any shit.
He clearly enjoyed the look of fear that crossed the girl's face before he turned and smacked the other girl on her ass harshly.
It caused an audible crack, and I winced for the girl whose face never flinched.
I could tell it stung, especially since the dumb bitch wasn't wearing anything under that dress, but she took it like a professional whore, meowing in pleasure with fake air innocence and a practiced blush of embarrassment.
Rex left just as abruptly as he came; leaving the two girls in a heated rush for two very different reasons, though one was clearly less for wear.
"Omg … he's so scary," M#1FF murmured, rubbing the chill from her arms.
Again I felt guilty for letting the girl take the heat, no one else had noticed the slight girl's trembling knees except for me, I bet.
Yet, the other girl was completely unfazed.
"I know right?!"HB2 squealed excitedly, "Just imagine what he's like in bed!"
There was an awkward silence as M#1FF met her friend's excited face with a deadpanned expression I couldn't help but share...
Some hoes just never learn… I thought ruefully as the two left.
Though I felt there may be some hope for M#1FF… possible… maybe
They were off to take their seats, and judging by the eager roar of the echoing crowd the show was about to start,I better get everything ready before I'm on…
With that thought in mind I snubbed out my last cigarette and took off down the back alleyway whistling an annoying tune that I knew that drug-dealer hated.
Tonight was Friday and the daycare would only keep Ari until 7:00PM.
It was two blocks from the club, but never-the-less it made me nervous walking these streets with Ari… recently the local gangs had been on the move.
To a local it was obvious the streets were in a state of unrest.
To an outsider, empty streets in the slums would seem normal, but for its residents it always meant trouble was coming… something big was about to happen.
I only hope it doesn't involve me or Ari…I thought dangerously, seriously hoping that I hadn't just jinxed myself.
The thought left a lingering unease deep in my gut, and I knew something was going to happen tonight…
I felt an impulse to hurry and so I let my feet lead the way.
Quickening my steps I rushed to the preschool only to find it already closed and Ari sitting on the outer step of the building crying frightfully.
She looked up as she heard my approach, and all of a sudden the four-year-old's face lit up like a light bulb and I braced myself for impact.
Like a cannon ball the brat launched onto my chest, sobbing, her face streaming with tears, snot, and a purple mixture I'd rather not attempt to guess...
I checked my watch and saw it was 7:04, those stupid bitches had left Ari here because I was four fucking minute late?
I felt the need to set those cunts on fire, but instead I took a deep breath.
I tried to dull my anger, knowing it would only frighten Ari more, so I petted the brat on her head hoping it would calm down the tear-stricken kid.
As always it worked like a charm… she didn't asked me where I was or why I was late, she knew no matter what I'd come for her, and so I didn't offer any excuses…
Still it was such a pain having her cry wordlessly…
About half-way home Ari's sobs quieted as the little brat's fell asleep in my arms like some type of spoiled dog.
I ruffled her tiny head, ruining her spry pigtails, feeling disgusting as I felt tears and snot seep in through my shirt.
Tonight was going to be a long night…I sighed roughly.
At the thought, there was a loud crack in the air as a gun went off.
Even before the bullet hit me, even before I'd found Ari on that step, I had known something was wrong… my every instinct warned me, but I didn't listen.
Life's a bitch sometimes, I thought as pain exploded in my thigh.
The two fuckers shot at me like a fucking dog on the side of the road as they drove by in their little bitch car, only cruising to help their poor aim.
No doubt the two were just some local punk-ass teenagers… but it felt like there was more to it than that my instincts swore.
I didn't even have time to think, as I heard the first bang and felt the bullet rip into my thigh; I had crumbled protectively over Ari's sleeping form even as more bullets rained down on us...
Yet, just as quickly as it had happened, tires squealed, as the shooters sped off in another direction.
It's amazing the thoughts that come to mind as you're getting shot and have bullets whizzing through the air all around you.
For some reason I couldn't help but think of that pink lacy pair of underwear I had seen just a while before I got shot…
I could tell I'd been hit more than once, I was bleeding heavily, but I looked over Ari first, glad to see she looked like she was in one piece.
The fucking brat hadn't even woke up, and thankfully didn't have a single scratch.
I on the other hand had a serious problem…
Getting up off the blood stained pavement, I limped the rest of the way back to our shithole apartment, barely able to stand on my own two feet.
Thankfully Ole' Easy was at his usual perch on the front steps…
Glad to see at least one thing had went my way, I smiled gratefully at the old man.
Today there wasn't a smartass welcome, instead the 97 year-old rushed to my side, taking Ari from me and wrapping an arm around my side to help me limp along.
The old shit was tall and lanky, even taller than my impressive height of 6'4.
I must look like such a sniveling bitch right now, I thought with a frown.
Suddenly I didn't want his help walking, but I accepted it none-the-less as I looked down towards Ari.
The little brat slept through everything: the gun fire, the blood, and the walk home… even Ole' Easy's homemade stitching and bullet removal service.
He'd half-dragged me into the apartment, before tossing me onto the couch roughly as he went to gently lay Ari in our bed.
Overall, the old bastard seemed completely unfazed by the blood and situation.
As a war vet, Ole' Easy had seen his fair share of blood, guts, and bullets.
He worked quickly and with a steady hand over my wounds.
Never once did the old man ask what had happened, instead the smartass fucker told me I had the devil luck to escape all that with nearly only grazes.
Devil's luck indeed, I thought darkly.
Anyone else would have surely been killed being shot at point blank by a couple of neighborhood thugs… yet I was alive.
Unfortunately I could only agree…
My inner demons wouldn't let me die so easily.
Regardless of the pain, I focused to where Ari lay sleeping… there was no way I could afford to die…
Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any chance of danger…
Just as Easy had said, besides the deep wound in the back of my thigh, each of the bullets had passed through.
None had nicked any arteries, and with Ole' Easy's professional-grade medical care infection wouldn't be a problem.
However, removing the bullet lodged in my thigh was another problem entirely.
The bullet in my thigh took almost an hour to remove, thanks to Ole' Easy blind ass…
It was excruciating, taking everything I had to keep from crying out as Easy dug inside my wound with his knife.
After the bullet was finally out, Easy bandaged me up, and I limped over to the bed where Ari was still sleeping.
I paused, staring down at her snoozing, feeling an inner peace coil inside my chest at the sight of such inexorable innocence.
The shit-nosed little brat sleeps like one of the fucking dead, I swear…
I was glad for it too… I couldn't imagine having her awake as Easy dug a bullet out of my leg, the brat would probably faint…
I collapsed on the springy mattress roughly shaking the sleeping kid, knowing it wouldn't wake her, but still tempted to try my best.
In total I'd been hit by six bullets, I'd take billion if it meant I could protect Ari… but I have to say the shit still hurt like bitch!
I stretched out on the cast away bed that was too short for my long legs, attempting to ease the clenching pain in my leg… but it didn't work.
If anything it made the pain all the more worse…
Laying down beside Ari, I rubbed the brat's back as she slept, already hearing the wheezing of her tiny lungs racking inside her chest.
Living in this shit-hole apartment didn't help her condition any… but for now it was the best I could do…
The medicine was expensive; the cost of the surgery was staggering, for now I could only pray that we would get by… someway.
Curling up with her, I was swept away by the grape-scent of Ari's hair, instantly eased despite the pain of my wounds.
I let out a sigh blissful sigh as my aching muscles finally relaxed.
"Easy…" I mumbled sleepily.
I cracked my eye open, looking for the free-loading geezer.
"Yeah… what'd want punk?" Came the bastard's breezy reply.
I was too tired to even retaliate…
"I'm on at 11 tonight, make sure I'm up," I asked, not bothering with any snarky retort.
The old man hissed in pain as he ran into the corner of the kitchen counter.
"You shouldn't go in your condition," Easy answered from the kitchen, sounding concerned, but entirely focused on making himself a snack.
There was a pause where I felt the inky blackness of sleep hit me hard, suddenly unable to keep my eyes open I mumbled under my breath,
"… Need the money…"
…for Ari…
Easy didn't comment, he'd lived long enough to know there's just some thing you can't help… and there's some things you just have to do...
I fell asleep thankful the old bastard decided not to comment farther, holding the only comfort I had ever received in my troubled life.
Easing into the dark oblivion of dreamless sleep… only to wake in what seemed like only seconds later.
It was one of those naps that seemed as if you had closed your eyes, only to snap back awake the next moment without feeling rested at all…
My eyes felt tight underneath with my exhaustion.
Or maybe it was my irritation, I thought as Ole' Easy continued to smack my face with a sandwich in his own personal way of waking me up for tonight's show.
Snatching the sandwich from Easy's old gnarled hand, I savagely tore off a huge edge of the bread in a single bite; hoping the old shit could tell I was annoyed.
Fucking bologna…I sighed.
Feeling my leg was swollen beneath the wrapped bandages Easy had put on…
Each step I took made it throb with pain, drowning out my other wounds entirely, but I ignored it all together.
In nothing, but bandages and a pair of shorts, I threw on a fitted undershirt and limped to the door to put on my shoes as I ate the sandwich Easy had given me…
I stopped at the door way and re-lined my eyes with a thick black liner.
It made my blue eyes look harsh under my black hair and Asian features.
Rex can call me a 'little emo-bastard' all he wanted, I'd take my black painted nails and eyeliner over his stage get-up any day…
Despite all the shit that had happened tonight, I couldn't shake my foreboding feeling that the worse had yet to happen… I sighed deeply.
Thinking once again to myself, Tonight was going to be a hard night.
Ole Easy didn't say anything as I left the apartment; he had the old discolored TV on and his gun out… ready for any trouble that might come his way.
Even as crazy as the old homeless bastard was, I trusted him unquestionably.
It had been Ole Easy that took them in after they had fled the shelters and orphanages in their early years…
He had took them under wing and showed them how to survive in the city's slums.
Knowing Ari was safe was enough for me, it gave me the strength to hide my limp as I made my way to the club… knowing the night had just begun.
One of the first surprises I had that night was blocking the back entrance to the club with a threatening demeanor and almost predatory air.
Instead of the usual guard standing at the club's entrance, a pair of large men stood watch over the door.
These were bought men for hire…
They were dressed in a fashion only a rich-ass gangster could afford, and it left no doubt in my mind what the night's events were about…
A very unwelcomed guest had come to visit their club by the looks of it.
Tonight the club would be hosting someone from the high-end of the food chain; this wasn't just some gang leader here tonight…
It was most likely someone even higher than any of the local gangs.
No wonder there has been so much unrest on the streets… this was a Crime Boss.
Suddenly feeling very uneasy, I glared hard at the first body-guard that stopped me from entering the building, but the other was completely unfazed.
He checked the clipboard in his hand noting my face and the somehow printed ID photo of me on his paper before reporting his findings.
"Akuma has arrived at the back entrance," the larger of the two talked into his wrist.
There was a pause between all of as radio static could be heard through the ear piece in both the body guard's ear buds simultaneously.
It was too faded for me to hear, but instantly the two body guards focused on me intently, as if I were about to run.
"Yes Sir," they both replied, their eyes not leaving me for a second.
At the end of their transmission, both stood straighter than they had before…
One reached out to grab my arm with his incredibly large hand.
I'm tall compared to people of average height, but I have a slim, lithe, figure.
These two on the other hand, towered over even Easy's height, and had builds more solid than that bastard Rex's.
I cooled my attitude, knowing that nothing good would come from me trying to argue with these men, I let them walk me forward.
The other guard opened the door to the club, stating briefly, "We have been given orders to escort you to the VIP lounge," as his beefy friend pushed me through the iron doorway with a crude force.
I stood up taller alongside the two body guards as they escorted me to their leader like some crony ass aliens.
I knew most of the club's many hallways and turns, even most of the rooms in the building, but I had never been to the VIP lounge before…
It was kind of threatening, man…
They didn't enter the room with me, only opened the door to push me through and slam it behind me forcefully.
From within the dark lit room, there was a lone man who sat at the opposite side of the wall from me… every bone in my body said this man was dangerous.
…Proceed with caution…
As if I wasn't completely put off by the guards handling and the figure in front of me, I walked up to the man with my hands in my pockets, shoulders back, and with my meanest punk face on, lip curled and everything.
No way was I going to look like some bitch to this big-shot.
Yet all the while, I thought sarcastically, Oh joy… how I've always wanted to meet a mafia Godfather…
"Ah- Akuma, I presume?" the suave figure asked as he stood to his feet to greet me, holding out a firm hand for me to shake.
More than tempted to deny the charge, I narrowed my eyes at the hand with a serious glace, opting for silence rather than getting my tongue cut out.
There was no need to piss of a mafia Don, just because the fucker asked a stupidly rhetorical question in the namesake of only being polite.
I shook his hand surprised at his taunt grip on my loose and flaky handshake.
This man seemed to hold manners very highly, which was strange considering the profession he lived by… etiquette doesn't have a place in crime.
It was an odd notion, but something the man seemed to take seriously, even in his fashion and looks, he was well groomed and primed.
He was a strange looking man, one with a large build, but who only stood just below my height. Like some 1920's gangster he wore an expensive suite, one of the darkest blacks I had ever seen, trimmed with a peach coloring.
His hair was solid white and combed back in a professional, yet elderly, style.
However, his face was smooth save for the laughing lines around his eyes and the corner of his lips.
I had to snuff out the thought of what would make a mafia crime boss smile… Sometimes it's best not to wonder about things…
As I had hoped he seemed to take my silence as my answer.
Yet, to my surprise a large cheshire grin broke out across his face, "Not one to beat on the bush, eh?" the Don asked with a comfortable laugh.
I paused at his use of the expression, only then noticing the slight accent the other used, and the distinct features surrounding his dark chocolate eyes.
"Well fine… I will cut my chase," the Don replied with another incorrect euphemism.
Very slightly the large grin on the other's face dimmed, as the Don's eyes grew serious on the matter of their discussion.
"I wish for you to marry into the family," he said with a knowing look.
As if he knew… Yeah right, as if the shit-eating prick could ever know the truth.
There are just some things even a fruity fucking-mafia Godfather could never know.
Feeling dread beginning to pool in my gut, I looked sharply at the man.
However, with a breezy air the Don reclined back into a more comfortable position.
Rather than stand to wait on my answer, he leaned back against the corner of a nearby chair, studying the expression on of shock on my face with intent, but kind, eyes.
I wasn't sure just what to say to the Don, refusing his offer would be an insult, but… I couldn't marry whatever woman it was he had in mind for me to wed.
Slowly but surely, I felt a chill of panic beginning to spread through the upper part of my chest, how could I say no?
What's the politest way to say not just no, but Hell No?
Especially to a man who could slaughter your entire family with clean hands, and not even loose a wink of sleep over it the next night?
All of a sudden I realized just how bad tonight was going to get…
… Well shit… I thought, visibly sullen.
Burden
Maybe it was the chanting roar of a blood thirsty crowd… or maybe it was the underlining promise of violence soon to ensue?
Who knows? Either way, as sick as it was, it really got my blood going…
That blood lust was about the only thing I enjoyed in this club… that and the money I could rake in at the end of the day…
Other than that I hated this place, I hated the noise of the crowd, I hated having to fight for money … but oh man…. how I loved the sound of crunching bones and the taste of my opponent's blood on my fists.
I loved the thrill… the adrenaline rush of a fight…
Nothing came close to the intricate beauty of the fallen patterns of sprayed blood!
My heart raced erratically in my chest as I felt my inner demon beginning stir…
He laughed as they removed the loser of the last match from his fallen place in the ring, thrumming inside me as he saw the blood in the sand.
Above where he had fallen my own opponent now stood, mic in hand about to begin a rant of some worthless shit-talk.
Feeling evil, I timed my entrance just right to interrupt the fool…
Just as Rex began to speak to the crowd, Tainted Love began to play, and I made my way down to the auditorium's ring.
The ramp was steep, it gave the audience the impression I was stomping my way down to the ring, when in reality I was trying to stay balanced.
It was all part of the show, besides the blood it was all an act…
The music plowed its heavy beat throughout the club, it's opening announcing me to the audience, who erupted with screams.
There was nothing quite like the blood hungry fans the club's arena.
I strutted down the path with a wide open gait, going with the beat of the music.
Not surprised as frantic hands began to caress my body after the lights were dimmed.
As Manson began to scream the club went dark, pitch-black, with an exploding crowd full of cheers and taunts alike.
None here had any concept of what money meant for those who had none, this club attracted more than a few unsavory characters.
The club preyed on others … but work was work, I resolved myself.
Lights flickered in all different shades and hues around me as I elbowed my way through the annoying crowd to get down to the auditorium's ring.
Yet, I stopped short when something caught my eye…
Halfway down the ramp I saw someone I recognized in the crowd.
A slim blonde in a tiny sequined gown…
Even over the blaring music I could hear her screams of adoration.
My Number One Favorite Fan cried out to me in the darkness of the auditorium.
She stood on the very edge of the crowd, screaming, desperately trying to touch me as I walked passed where she stood.
Seeing her there, I thought back to that flash of pink underwear… and suddenly I was hit with an idea that put a smirk across my face.
I was in a desperate situation, determined to prove how unwed-able I was…
I felt I owed M#1FF one for her actions earlier, Plus she could be of help in my situation, I decided cruelly.
Best way out of an engagement?…Be caught with another woman…
Acting before I thought, high on my adrenaline rush… I grabbed a fistful of the girl's long blonde hair, and crashed my lips to hers.
She stood there shocked, so astounded she dropped her gum into my mouth.
Then like a blaze she woke, passionately clutching to any part of me she could reach.
Hot and wet, our tongues met heavily as I nipped at her lower lip, puncturing it between my teeth as I plucked her from the crowd, enjoying the taste of blood and her strawberry-gum on my lips…
She gasped as I lifted her from her feet, but instantly she straddled my waist; her pointed heels digging into the bare flesh of my back.
M#1FF didn't bother to ask questions; with the fervor of a true fan she ground her ass on my crotch, her nails clutching me in desperation.
I held her by the meat of her ass, deepening our kiss with my pierced tongue.
She suckled on my tongue, stealing back her gum as I carried the two of us down the ramp-way thrusting forward with every step downwards.
Lost in the song we dry fucked to the beat and Mason's screams.
M#1FF's delicate fingers trailed down my chest, circling the perk of my nipples, before going down to my navel.
She moaned against my lips, her soft hazel eyes half lidded with her want.
I carried her to the outer edge of the ring, and then broke our kiss.
Blowing a heated breath down her neck and brushing the column of her throat with my nose, before I planted my face between her breasts.
Screaming along with Manson as I shook my head between her breasts, laughing as the crowd roared in favor.
I slipped a hand beneath the hem of her dress, grasping her underwear in my hand, and tore the lacy thong from her ass as I lowered her back to the ground.
Her high heels met the sand with trembling knees, nearly too weak to support her, as she stood there in awe of me…
Almost instantly M#1FF's knees gave out and she sank to the sandy bottom of the outer portion of the ring, her hands trailing a long-slide down my sides and toned stomach as she slowly sank.
She left long red-welts down my front as her sharp nails dug into my skin.
The beautiful blonde's hands paused at the reveling edge of my boxers' elastic hem as she stared intently at the tat just below my navel.
She looked questionably at the thin lining of bandages around by middle, before she licked her lips and looked up at me with large wanton eyes.
My injuries weren't any of her business, she wordlessly accepted that, and I felt my preference of her grow because of it…
Like she promised earlier, M#1FF rushed forward to the lick the fanged bat beneath my navel, her hands quickly working to undo the studded green-belt around my waist.
With practiced hands she tugged at my black cargo shorts, but I fisted her hair, keeping her at arms length as she all but tried to crawl back up me…
She wasn't one to ask questions, but she wasn't a girl who had any qualms about fucking me right here in front of the audience.
Scott probably wouldn't care, but I damn for sure did…
The audience was ecstatic, thinking it was some type of S&M show as M#1FF whimpered at my feet, begging for only a touch of my hand.
She was like some type of insistent child crying for candy in the middle of the store...
M#1FF grabbed a hold of my calf-high combat boots, refusing to let go.
I leaned down with my hand around her throat, once more I clashed our faces together painfully, and she cried out against my lips.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, but I detangled them easily.
I left her there in the sand, panting, staring after me like I was some type of god.
Yet, I made sure to leave her pink-lacey thong hanging visibly from my pocket as I stepped in the ring, sliding between the thick ropes like a pro.
The crowd roared all around me as the women shrieked in rage about not being chosen by THE Akuma.
Even the men gave out calls, their fists hammering in the air, everyone was pumped at the show of violence and sex, but I ignored them all.
I ignored M#1FF as a security guard helped her back to her seat; the poor girl was so astonished she could hardly walk.
Once more I felt guilty about the girl, but I knew if I did anymore it would only raise unwanted questions from the people around us.
I had gone all out tonight from my music, to showing off all the ink of my torso's tats, my eyes were lined and my nails painted black… and I had half-fucked a poor girl on my way down to the ring in front of an entire audience.
I decided easily, If any of me stills screamed marriage-material, then that Don had some fucked up views of what his poor little girl should marry…
The Don had immediately asked for my reply…
Yet, thankfully, we had been interrupted; it had been almost time for the show to start…
Boss Man Scottie was a lot of things, but he was never one to put favors before money; even if that favor was to a Godfather.
I knew without asking it was that fucker's fault the Don seemed to know so much about me… anything had a price with Scott; even information on his fighters.
Knowing it was that short little-bastard's fault I'd been put into that position, I felt my hatred of this club broil over.
I wondered how much they really knew…
Even that slime-ball couldn't have known, so there's no way that piece of shit Don knows anything, I tried to reassure myself.
I had put on an air of false confidence as I neared the locker room.
Waltzing into the locker room of buff naked-men and random assortments of ball-sacks and bare asses, I thought about my situation.
If there was some way I could slip away from the club without being seen, I'm sure I could avoid a few fights and maybe the Don would give up?
No, I'd look like a pussy running away like that… I sighed heavily.
Ignoring the strange looks I got from the others, I went to my locker morosely.
At times like this I really wish that S.O.B. Mad Dog was still around… nobody was stupid enough to fuck with that bastard.
His advice, however, would probably be worthless though…
Sighed loudly once more, I rested my forehead against the cool metal of my locker.
I have more than enough shit to put up with already, without thinking about marriage.
I'm not even marriage material…
Call it whatever you'd like, a eureka-moment or an epiphany, never-the-less I was struck by an idea too good to pass-up at that thought.
Kicking my converse shoes off with a shit-eating grin, I felt that I had finally found the resolution to my Don problems.
I threw off my undershirt and shorts standing there in nothing save my flamboyantly-gay orange boxers and some bandages wrapped around my waist and left thigh.
I felt almost new again…
Hearing that asshole Rex scoffing about something behind me, I decided to ignore it, knowing that it would only start shit with that fucker.
He was either making cracks at how small I was compared to the other fighters, or maybe even wondering about my bandages.
None of the other buff ass douche-bags ever said anything to me anymore, I had taken on almost all of them in the ring, and all of them but Rex had learned.
'Ya just can't fix stupid… I thought with a sigh.
We were both on in only a few short minutes, Rex was always one to leave early so he could talk shit about his opponents to the crowd, and he didn't disappoint.
He left within seconds afterwards, his music blaring all the way into the locker room.
I had a good five-or-ten minutes, give-or-take, before I would need to be out.
Yet, I hurried to get dressed, deciding to remain shirtless; I grabbed an old pair of torn black-cargo shorts from my locker, looping my belt through the threads of the denim.
Looking into the mirror of my locker I noticed the green-on-black looked odd against the bit of orange showing from the inch-or-so bit of my exposed briefs; however, I ignored it begrudgingly.
Instead I dragged out my large, clucky, steel-toed combat boots from the bottom of my locker to replace my ratty, old, converse shoes.
I thought about styling the black messy locks of my short hair, but I opted against it, choosing instead to line my eyes thicker with black eye-liner.
Boss Man Scottie had already asked me to push the fight back, he wanted to prolong the bets for this match, and had hinted at a cut.
However, I already knew that greedy little-fucker would only pay his part.
More than once he had tried to get me to stage a fight, but I refused.
Though it didn't help me much when it came to Scott, I still had some semblance of pride, and I was always a sure bet; except when it came to Mad Dog.
…Crazy fucker…
He was one of the few fighters the club had that I actually enjoyed.
We were similar in a lot of ways, except for his fascination of Japan… that was just his own weird personal-trait.
I was the only Asian fighter, besides this slutty Korean bitch the club paid to brawl in a blow-up pool filled with mud.
When he had found out I was Japanese the crazy-fucker had all but jumped me with his stupid questions.
He saved up all he could before leaving on a trip to Japan, only knowing the makeshift words I remembered from when I was a child.
Yet, no one had heard from him since…
Sucking on my teeth I tried to focus, I had more shit to worry about than that crazy dumb-ass, I needed to finish this fight quickly and get out of the club.
…To hell with Boss Man Scottie, and to hell with that Don…
I only need the make the fight last over sixty seconds.
I'd play my part, but I won't play to his standards, I had decided that in the very beginning over three years ago, didn't I?
I made a show out of my entrance, I showed off my tats, I played my music, I flaunted M#1FF off confidently to the watching Don, and I entered the ring with a killer's focus directed towards Rex.
The crowd cheered, the bell rang, and Rex barreled towards me…
Like a screen freezing over pane-by-pane everything around me slowly drowned out.
Time seemed to dawdle as the bustling noise of the audience faded, along with the arena's mic announcer, and Rex's enraged roar.
I was left with only the thudding beat of my heart pounding in my ears.
The fight had started, and I focused solely on my mark.
… Prey… something in me whispered.
Rex was huge compared to my size, though I was tall, he was taller.
He had a large stature, made even larger by the impossible size of his muscles.
His head was shaven, revealing a throbbing vein above his right eye on his purple, discolored, face that was contorted in his stampeding rage.
I dodged his grappling arms, ducking low to escape the reach of his large, meaty, fingers; more than sure he would throttle me if given half the chance.
I used his croc-skin speedo to throw him off balance, tugging it hard enough I was sure it went up the crack of his ass.
He let out a pain gasp as he toppled over, and the crowd's cheers rained as Rex hit the sandy bottom of the ring's floor.
I backed away keeping light on my feet despite the heavy boots I wore, knowing in only moments the hulking figure would be back on his feet.
He never was one to stay down for long…
Rex swore, pushing himself back onto his feet, he attempted to toss a handful of sand into my eyes, but I was prepared for his cheap trick.
As he rushed me once more I focused on my mark once again.
He closed the distance between us swiftly grabbing my shoulder in a painful grip as I twisted out of his reach, bringing my leg high.
I spun in a round-house, connecting the heel of my heavy combat boot to Rex's neck just beneath his ear and lower jaw.
Enjoying the sick crack my boot created…
His enraged brown eyes met mine with a confused look that lasted only for a second before the large bastard hit the sand pit bottom of the ring face first with a loud thump.
A lot of the roars in the crowd died out, but those of my fans easily took their place.
I looked towards the time clock, anything under a minute; Boss Man Scottie refused to pay… it had taken me only forty-nine seconds to lay Rex out.
I had torn open the wound in my thigh and a few stitches in my side… all for no pay.
Swearing under my breath as Scott entered the ring to roughly jerk up my arm; I ignored the pain, wondering instead what I could do to make up for the money…
With that Don hanging around the club it wouldn't be smart to risk anymore matches until he had left town for good.
Yet, what else could I do…?
Boss Man Scottie was pissed; I could see it in his face and in the red beginning to blister in his neck from his high blood pressure.
I had hoped to avoid the little bastard, but instead it looks like I was stuck… he wouldn't let me just walks away that easily.
He would get even in his own way…
Any fights I had for the rest of the week would only be half of what I usually made, I was sure of it…
He had asked me to put off the fight for a little while, and I had finished the match in under a minute instead.
Scottie would often keep the bets rolling well into the match; the longer the match the more bets could be made… shortening a match that quickly cut the bids short.
I had lost him money, and one way or another he'd get me back for it…
This really was a shitty night, I decided then and there.
He didn't say anything to me, but I could see the fury in his beady green eyes.
To the crowd he showed a charming smile, pumping my sore arm in the air a few more times before painfully slapping me on the back.
I left the ring feeling worse for wear, knowing Ari's medication needed refilling this week and the rent was due soon.
I would have to make up twice the amount of matches to afford the costs this week.
Deaf to the sudden blare of deadening music, I slid through the arena's ropes.
The next match began as I left the ring, the first opponent coming down the crude ramp as his music began to play over the club's speakers.
Just as I had, he strutted down the ramp like a cocky douche-bag, soaking in the raving screams of his adoring fans like a sponge in water.
Fans pelted me with their hands and autograph papers, as sluts pulled me in all different directions.
I fought my way out of their reach, making my way to the rear exist of the arena area.
By the time I made it to the nearest security guard the fans were nearly hysterical.
Each of them wanted a piece of me… I had claw marks all over my body, chunks of my shorts were missing, and somehow or another my belt had disappeared.
More than thankful as I entered the fighter's hallway, I sighed in relief as the security guards slammed the down behind me, leaving me in the dimly lit foyer.
Even through the iron door and thick cement walls the crowd's cheers whispered into the empty hall where I stood gravely contemplating.
What now? I wondered soundlessly.
I slumped back against the thick cement wall holding my arm, more than sure it was dislocated from Rex's abusive grip.
I'd probably have to get Easy to fix it I sighed heavily again, pausing to blow back a black bang from the corner of my eye.
It wouldn't be good… Ari would fuss like crazy when she saw-
"S'Good Match," rang a familiar accent.
I flinched; I hadn't seen anyone in the dark lit hall, even as soft spoken as it was it interrupted my thoughts like a blaring siren.
I looked up worried to see the Don once again; thankfully, I found another figure entirely, one of a well dress dark haired guy, peering eerily at me with strange eyes.
Instantly, I recognized those dark chocolate eyes…
"Piss off…" I murmured, still clutching my arm, this man wasn't the Don, I had no reason to be polite to the peon.
I wouldn't let some crony ass-fucker intimidate me here on my on turf…
His eyes darkened slightly in the dim light of the foyer as he sized me up with a threatening glare that made the hair on my neck stand tall.
I hesitantly took a step backwards, seeing something in the man that I hadn't seen in years, not since I had met Mad Dog...
Call it instinct or just being over intuitive, my gut hadn't led me wrong so far.
I sized the dark haired man up with a critical glare.
The man was tall, only an inch or so above my height, but tall none-the-less.
Using his height to seem threatening, he loomed over me, way over stepping the comfort of personal space as he backed me up against the chilled cement wall; either the cold stone or the glint in his eye, causing the skin of my back to shiver as he pressed up against me in a domineering way.
My mouth seemed to dry instantly under his dark eyes, this man was as dangerous as the Don himself, I suddenly realized.
I found for the first time in my life I was entirely speechless...
…I couldn't even think up an insult...
"W-what?" I demanded, looking up sharply at the suited man.
Pride refused to let me back down from the dark haired stranger, even as rough hands cupped the sides of my face and trailed down the grove of my throat.
Though the man's hands weren't squeezing I felt choked as he began to trace over the tats on my neck with his fingertips.
His touch was soft… but it burned…
He only brushed the tips of his fingers down my sternum, yet my nipples hardened under his gaze as he looked at me for what seemed like the first time…
Like a gas-station clerk taking inventory after a thug had entered the store, the man seemed to be assessing every mark on my body with the scrutiny of a up-town fine arts dealer… it was like it was the first time he had seen or felt another's skin.
His face held a look of admiration that kept me from reacting.
Each tattoo he came by would cause him to pause, but never-the-less his hands made their way down the toned flat of my stomach to gentle trace over my fanged-bat.
He stopped short at the peeking edge of bandages wrapped around my middle, as if only just then noticing the others that twined around my arms.
There was a look the deepened at the sight of my injuries, but he didn't ask.
Without any shame or hesitation he studied my body up-close and personal.
The strange man cupped the small of my waist, just beneath my ribs, as if measuring with his hands how small I was, and I could feel the fingers of his large hands almost touch around my middle.
At this my anger began to bristle, Was this some joke about how small I was?
I couldn't help the fact I looked like a tiny Asian that had been stretched.
Suddenly, he nodded to himself as if reassured before his eyes flicked back to mine.
I knew I couldn't keep the unease from my eyes at he met my gaze, but I flashed him a scowl and put on my meanest face.
"What'ya doin'?!" as if I wasn't totally freaked out by this queer.
Act cool, keep a strait face, I thought to myself.
Humor shone in the man's brown eyes as he placed his hands on my shoulders.
Wondering briefly what the dude thought was so funny; I froze as he leaned forward with cocky smirk to press his lips against either side of my face
I knew it was some foreign-ass way of greeting people, but never-the-less it really pissed me off for some reason or another.
However I didn't have time to contemplate on it…
I flinched as he grabbed a hold of my dislocated arm just above my elbow.
Biting down on my lower lip to keep from showing any discomfort, I glared at the dark haired man, but he only leaned down to where his lips were against my ear.
As if waiting for my yelp of pain as he snapped my arm back into its socket, he waited until I cried out to reply … "Meeting my bride…"
I heard his words with cold stab of fear…
Everything about the man had me locked up like some nut-job wearing a strait-jacket in a psych ward, those eyes of his…
He was like Mad Dog…
He was like me…
His dark chocolate gaze met my blue, and all of a sudden I knew without a doubt this man knew… this man knew everything.
The man kissed the corner of my parted lips, murmuring in my ear in Italian.
"Cucciola mia…"
I was too shocked to see the confident smirk he flashed, he knew…
That thought left me frozen against that wall long after the man had left the foyer.
He knew… the Don knew…. hell even Scottie might have known.
I don't know how much the Don and Scottie might of known, but this man … he somehow knew what I had told only one other soul.
…Mad Dog… that crazy fuck'n bastard…
I had only two secrets I kept in life, a few well trusted people knew the first, but only Mad Dog knew the later.
Whether he had ever told anyone was irrelevant, we both shared a secret only someone with a similar burden could understand.
I didn't really care about the first; it was only a matter of convenience I used to keep a steady income from the Boss Man Scottie.
It didn't bother me if the whole world knew, I wasn't some little brat fresh off the streets, I had long since proved to Scottie I was a capable fighter.
This man, the Don, Scottie, Mad Dog, Easy, and Ari they all knew…
…They knew I was a woman…
However this man, he knew something only Mad Dog had ever guessed, and I knew it was only possible on one condition.
…he shared the same burden…
Impressum
Bildmaterialien: Cover isn't mine, no clue whose tho~
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 17.06.2014
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