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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
'F O L L O W E D' I/II
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R A D I C A L
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#1
09-17-2017, 10:52 PM


R A D | C A L

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RADICAL












yesterday, 08:32 PM

Post: #1





















F O L L O W E D
I/II

The limb end of my bow felt heavier. If not just right, it could pull when I let it loose. I doubt the next door neighbor would want one through the chest. What was the weight difference? Shaft seemed okay, draw weight balanced on string, even the quiver my arrows knock around in was in good shape... Bodkin pointed... sharp as a razor with a hinged mini blade that comes off. What can I say; I'm a romantic. Playing operator with something dangerous seemed like a bad idea. I could fling an arrow into a church. Accidentally waste some old shopping cart woman. How far do these things even go? Now I had to know. There's danger in anything you do, right? When has that ever stopped me before? Pfftt.

"Fuck it."


Then I saw it. In the fletching. An extra feather. I normally kept three that a wrinkled old Apache shaman gave to me after he told of great despair that would be "hurled in my direction" if I ever removed them. He was an old bastard. Who knows for sure how much peyote went into that theory... silly. But he never said anything about another feather. The fourth feather was new to me. Tenderly turning in the dimmest light, whispering "take me, Gabe..."; and so I did. It was soft to the touch. Delicately wooing my sensibilities- making my fingers feel to their natural placement on the instrument. It was almost magical. Instantly, I was brought back to when I was a child and used to find pigeon feathers behind my Aunt's house. This was no pigeon feather. It looked like it was from a long time ago, yet seemed new, as if freshly plucked. Who put it there was a question I wanted answered, but first, I had to tinkle. I tucked into the bathroom of a dive bar I stopped at half way to San Diego. Face to tile with a stained up urinal.

"Stupid feather! Probably means nothing and I'm in here contemplating my next life move because of it... on top of that, BrrrR! This water is cold."

In front of me on the tile... people had used magic marker, sharpie, and pencil to write shit to read while you piss. Messages to be somewhere at an exact time, or when they'd be back to meet. Some were cute drawings. A blonde haired troll. Another smaller blonde troll next to it that doesn't stop talking. Tile tagging... one evolutionary rung below wire 'telephone'. "Daddy's little dog" was an especially disturbing author, each one he signed had a little symbol afterward. One that looked like a feather. You know, the more I look at it, THAT IS THE FEATHER! Bristles, the spacing, that is the fourth feather on my arrow fetching! Holy shit! What does this mean!? "Daddy's little dog" must have put it on my arrow while it was in the quiver. HOLY DOLLY WATERS! I had myself an ole fashion cliché mystery to solve. Where to even begin? Did he or she know I would be at this bar when they signed all of these? That I would notice the weight difference and even check the feathers? It was perplexing. But I was determined. And in the back of my mind something told me before the night was up I would have an answer I didn't bargain for; and that someone right in front of my nose would have tile piss graffiti type chaos to answer for.



I went home, cautiously looking in the rearview mirror along the way. I had went to that bar to practice my archery out back. Just an old wooden disk that was hard to miss. But that tinkle inside proved to be costly. Now, instead of a mind on Warfare and Chris Chaos, I was stuck dealing with some... stalker. A desperate fuck getting off on my raised curiosity. I didn't feel... safe. It was a basic human violation on levels not everyone recovers from. Chris didn't after our match. As parallel as it all seemed, I needed to relax. I parked and went in, peaking back over my shoulder, expecting for something to make me pay for one of my sins. Once inside I locked everything. I poured a drink with my hands trembling spilling ice everywhere. It was garbage. In my paranoid haze I had filled the scotch glass with... water. What the hell? Maybe I needed some of that too. NO! A piss got me into this mess. I hid my bow and quiver under the stairs like always. Then pulled out a sealed beauty to exhale my worries.


Running through my head were why's. Who's had their place too... like who wanted to mess with me, and how could I radically change their plan? I did what I always do in times like that. Smoked a fat cigar, and let the seeping smoky calm just take me away. In the smoke I thought I saw a unicorn. I kept waiting for signs that meant something. Wishing upon a fictitious horse has never been my foray. It happened. Not in the smoke, the glass in the window beyond it. The door that leads to the kitchen. I SAW A FACE! A mask with lines down pieces of it. "Daddy's little dog"? It didn't say anything about a mask by the feather insignia's left by the tile messages. Reassuring myself it wasn't really there, I took another long drawn puff. AGAIN! THERE! The face was in the reflection, then the head turned! Was it the same face? I ran upstairs to get my shotgun. I call her Xena 'Warrior Princess'; after this guy who used to be my partner. What a schmuck. BACK to the faces- I loaded a few shells into Xena, then crept around each corner in my own damn house. I didn't know what I would find, but I know if it looked like the used condom I saw in the window, that I'd fill it with holes before it's psycho ex-girlfriend ever could.

Did it, or they want to kidnap me? Maybe this was some plan to keep me out of sight for an upcoming XWF event. I had just signed a letter of intent to appear at Leap of Faith... maybe it was leaked, or someone from the inside planned it!? But it makes no sense! XWF and Gabe Reno kissed and made up. Why pull the chord so soon, so suddenly, and without immense torment, as would be the expected style?! No! This was something else. Someone who got off on petty signals like in the bathroom. Someone who stepped into a reflection, then turned away to run into waiting arms in the Myst. Hmmm. I racked my brain. THINK! GABE! WHO could it BE! I knew one thing, I wouldn't have to wait to figure it out. Whoever was here, in my home... and had an appointment with a 'Warrior Princess'.

I silently made my way through some connected doors no one else knew were there, from back when I renovated the house. I tore a piece of drywall enough to get an eyehole to the room upstairs I suspected anyone would hide. Sure enough. There in the mask, what seemed to be a man pacing to and from the wall. He was irate that his plan was not working, while trying to keep his voice down; talking to someone on a gay pink cell phone.


I know that feminine voice...

Wow- I couldn't believe it had taken me so long to figure it out. I took a moment to clarify who I thought it was to myself, as through the eyehole the hooded condom man was practicing Salsa moves while having an awkward phone chat. The fear was really gone at that point. Suddenly, the dance maneuver's lack of grace reminded me...

You son of a bitch...

YOU SON OF A BITCH!


I didn't care anymore who heard me. Something had to be done, and it needed to be done by the Radical. I tore through the drywall once he had turned away. I tripped then got up and broke through the rest of the wall. Like a cheetah I pounced; when he turned back, I gave him a knee that will rock his testicles until Cosby comes clean about the "puddin' pops". I looked him in the eyes, and bent him toward me. A pull of the string, a grasp of the mask... and HA! WAIT! WHAATTTT!!??

YOU'RE NOT... NOT...

YOU'RE... "DADDY'S LITTLE DOG"..?


Cut off by the mad man-

NOT WHO? A BURGLAR!?

Well... yeah!

CHRIS CHAOS!?

PROBABLY, YES! WHY!?

He was laughing at me, I think he forgot that there was still some serious explaining to do. Perhaps, a friendly reminder...

So what the fuck was with the feather in my fetching, and the pictures on the tile at the bar, and stalking me at my house... and, a pink cell phone!?!

OKAY! YES! I followed you home, and some of, okay, all of that other stuff. I was trying to warn you. I'm sorry, did you say A FETCHING? They were hints, Gabe. Ones you apparently didn't pick up. You were supposed to follow the directions on the tile, there was shit drawn, but if you had backed up it's entirety pointed to out front. So I had to come here... because you're...

Slow.

Was thinking more like distracted... but yours fits.

Shit man. I am so sorry.

Boy, I sure felt like an idiot. I am an idiot. Someone trying to lend a helping hand, and quite frankly, not picking up on those clues... I wondered how many more I may have missed.

Blame game later, focus!

On...

His face went from friendly jubilation to straight hatred. I'd only seen that type of dramatic face change caused by one other being on this Earth. I knew what had to happen. We had to stalk, prey upon, and follow...

CHAOS!

PANDA!




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