"I don't need any fucking pills."

He looked at the television, sighing. He grabbed the remote, turning on the TV with a click.

Static.

He pressed the channel button. Nothing happens. Cyrus took the back off the remote, rotating the batteries. Nothing. He dropped the remote on the table, stood and walked into the kitchen, quickly.

A noise. Creaking floorboards. Cyrus looked at the ground, frozen. The noise came from across the room. He swallowed hard as the noise came towards him. Faster... louder... the floor boars sunk around him, until he was inches below floor level.

Cyrus shut his eyes, completely motionless. A sweat bead fell from his forehead. The noise stopped.

Click.

The television turned off, yet the sound of static remained.

"Scared, Cyrus?"

The deep voice boomed, then cackled.

"Pissed your pants!"

Another, higher voice.

"Cyrus is a scaredy cat, Cyrus is a scaredy cat!"

A hoarse, childish voice.

"Don't worry, Cyrus, you can stop us!"

The first voice returned. Then, the brown pill bottle rolled into the room, cap on, pills in the bottle.

"Go ahead. Send us packing. YOU FUCKING BABY!"

Cyrus' eyes opened and he turned his body just in time to see three bursts of mist disappearing into the air. Cyrus exhaled heavily.

---

Cyrus grabbed his cell phone, his jacket, and his keys, running out of the house. The door slammed. Cyrus walked into his backyard, flipping open the phone.

"Pick up, Goeren. Pick the fuck up."

He bounced around, waiting for Azrael to answer.

"Hello?"

The German accent answered.

"What the fuck is going on with me, Azrael?"

"Just who are you?"

"Azrael, don't play fucking games with me."

"Fucking games? I don't believe we've started..."

"What the fuck is wrong with me, Azrael? What are these pills for?"

Azrael laughed.

"Dr. Nguyen didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"No sir, I'm a business man. You want something from me, I want something from you."

"What?"

"A match."

Cyrus sighed.

"Against who?"

"Kenji Yamada."

"Just tell me the fucking truth, Azrael. Don't fuck around with me. It's MY life you're fucking with."

"Then perhaps you should already know what's wrong with you?"

"Fucking TELL ME!"

"Supply and demand. The demands going up, so is the price."

"Tell me."

"Two matches?"

Cyrus takes a deep breath, realizing who he's arguing with.

"Fine. I'll take your match."

"Good. I want to help you... now you can help me."

"Are we done?"

"Make an example of him. Make me cringe, Cyrus, and I'll give you the information you desire."

Click. Cyrus hung up. As he closed the phone, he tossed the cell phone into the stack of logs, just to his right.

"This is bullshit. BULLSHIT."

Cyrus turned his head, looking at the house, then back to the camera.

"You know, Kenji... I've got no clue what the fuck you did to Azraith. I've got no clue what the fuck Azrael wants you 'hurt' for. I've got no clue about anything, except what I want, man. I want answers."

Cyrus takes a deep breath, sighing.

"I want to know why that when I get up in the morning, I ache. Not my head, not my bones. Not my joints. My heart. My heart longs for something. My heart wants something back, something that it lost."

Cyrus, moving around, sits down on top of the logs.

"Listen, Kenji. I know what happened to Akira. I know what I saw. I saw that kid... dangling by his neck above the ring. I saw the look on his face, I saw the blue color of his lips. I saw the sick, sadistic grin on Azraith's face. The one that only we two and a few select others would know. I saw all that. I saw you break down. I saw what it did to you. I know that to this day, you still see that boys feet flailing, you see him struggling to get out."

Cyrus looked at the camera.

"Kenji, I have no idea what you did to Azraith. No fucking clue. But I wish you the best in your fight against him."

Cyrus looked to the ground.

"But I..."

Cyrus looked back at the camera.

"I know what I want. I know what I'm out to get. And I know that your years and years of working for the Japanese Bloodswords or what the fuck ever you call your mafia 'thing', are going to make you tough to handle. I know this. But I also know that there is little - to nothing - you can do to stop a registered psychopath when he sees the 'red'. I know there is little to nothing you can do to calm down a maniac, as he's tearing you apart, limb for limb."

Cyrus shook his head.

"I wish it didn't have to be like this. I long for you to get revenge. But Kenji, your revenge can come at a later time, in fact, it WILL come at a later time."

Cyrus stared at the camera.

"I want to know what my problem is. I want to know why it is I do what I do, see what I see. And fucking Christ, I want out of this little bargain with Azrael."

Cyrus stood.

"And if you can't help a 10 year old boy...

How are you going to save yourself against a fucking psychopath?"

He sighed, walking back towards the house. The scene faded.