|
He stepped through the hallways of the club like he owned the place, that grin of his spread a mile wide. On his ring finger there was a single ring glinting in the dull flourescent lights in the ceiling, casting faint colors from the gem in the center all across the walls. The others looked on as he walked, looked on with respect at the man and disdain for what he'd done. He'd taken one of their own, and he'd done it with that grin of his forever plastered on his face. One punch had destroyed everything a single man had tried to build up for a legacy in the club, and all the nightmares the world had to offer him poured out over his dreams. This was Fight Club, this was the place to let loose and get rid of all the frustrations that the world brought you every day, all that hatred concentrated into your fists and brought forth in the fighting. This was not a place to try to conquer. The legacy of the man whom had fallen at the hands of a freak from the carnival, this sideshow clown who happened to find out about Fight Club on his own, ended in one night. He had an impressive record-- nearly unparalled in Fight Club's history. He didn't just win fights, he gained respect; something Fight Club was all about. He was nothing but serious when he stepped out there, letting loose the rage the world dumped on him from each day. He knew that he wasn't a pair of khakis, nor was he a credit card. The man only tried to be who he really was, and he did a damn good job of it until that freak came 'round and knocked him down, got inside his head. "Look at you asshats... don't just stand around! Where the hell's all the violence?" called the freakshow, as he walked into the circle and beckoned any to come and take him on. None stepped up, however... as the looks of anger grew brighter. Yet he continued to grin, looking around. Realization had dawned on the clown, as he searched the eyes of every single man who stood glaring him down. He knew that we all had that same anger towards him for defiling everything that Fight Club stood for... yet he also knew he held all the power in his hands now. "Miss your old bud, do ya'? Think he shoulda beat me, do ya'? Think what I did ta' him before our little encounter here was a bit much? Fuck off, I did what I did and he came at me with everything he had anyway. Respect the man's wishes and move on, ya' lousy bitches. Someone step up if you really hate it so damn much, I dare ya', go on and step up." Yet none moved a muscle. "That's what I thought... all of you, cowards. Not a worthy fighter left ever since I drove that bastard out of here, he was the only thing left keepin' this club together. So whatever happened to our lives around here, eh? Not lettin' the bullshit of the world keep us down, takin' out what we had ta' on each other, gettin' it out of our system? This was our way to unwind, and you bastards are pickin' it apart 'cause you don't like the way I do things?" He circled the room, lifting up his ring finger to them, that ring boring through everyone's chests, staring into their souls and causing many to turn their heads. "Yeah... that's right. His ring, that bastard's ring taken right off his finger 'for I kicked his ass right out the door. He'll probably start murderin', or he might just go back to his regular life... fact is, no more Fight Club. No more Fight Club for your friend, you bastards... it's all me now, and this ring shows it. I've got my buds in the back there, they can testify... my reign is now. So you wanna bring the world's bullshit in here because of me? Well hell, boys, I'll bring it to all of ya'." We all watched as the clown looked at each one of us, looking for a challenge in anyone's eyes. He turned suddenly, decking the man behind him as he stood watching, sending him falling to the ground. The others backed up in silence as the man lay there, not screaming in pain but instead holding at his now broken jaw, a look of fire in his eyes. "There's that fire... I see it in you now. That same fire he had before I whipped his ass out the door... that same fire each of you held in your souls before I made him go. It's still there, isn't it? The challenge is there, but you're all to pussyfooted to do anything about it, aren't you? Yeah... that's it. So much for fuckin' Fight Club, eh? I kick one guy's ass out and the whole thing falls apart?" The man stood back up in defiance to the clown, yet when he stepped up, the man stepped back. With a laugh coming straight from the pit of his stomach, the freakshow took off his ring and threw it to the ground, the ultimate insult to all of us as we watched him. He spit down on the ring, looking at all of us in the eye one last time. "This is my club now, because none of you are willing to keep the original ground rules we all swore upon to get here. Each and every one of you bastards need to evolve and let the chips fall where they may, because until you learn the unspoken rules of Fight Club the right way, you might as well call yourselves my bitch." A single man lunging out, swinging for his head. One side-step later and the man was on the ground with a twisted and broken arm, that haunting grin of the clown's hovering over him. "This is your life bud... and it's ending one minute at a time. Remember that." There was no more Fight Club... it was all about this guy now. He had done it, he had really done it, he'd done exactly what he said he was going to do... he took what he thought was his and made it his. |