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JimCaedus · (10-27-2017)

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CAEDUS REWIND: CONTINUED DIRECTLY from story in "Same Shit, Different Dolly". Jim has been psychically led to collect mysterious items since KotR 2017 and has no understanding as to the reasons why. Attempts to theorize are met with debilitating migraine, as are any efforts shown to refuse. When last we left Jim, we were being made privy to events taking place before Leap of Faith in Carcross, Yukon Territory, Canada wherein both Jim and Tala were set to move in on an isolated home apparently hiding the fifth mysterious item...and five men who would surely have a problem with it's snatching ...

■■■■■■

I'd watched three of the five men (all some type of indigenous, territorial race reminding me ever so much of Native Americans and eskimos) for a good 20 minutes, all three centered around a massive flat screen of all things, sat comfortably in easy chairs draped with furry mammalian hides. They're drinking and consumed with an episode of some dramatic television series entitled "How Far Is Heaven".

As for the other two of the five men the psychic force had warned me of, they were in the room located on the north wall, directly connected to the front room populated by the three guards, and whatever they were up to in there, they'd popped out moments after I'd snuck successfully up to one of the front windows to impart what sounded like light but gruff leadership chewing out in a language also reminding me of Native Americans.

I'm not sure how my plan will work out with the separation of targets but...what else can I do?

It's go time. ......Lord, I can't believe I just thought that corny shit.

I nod to Tala, also pressed against the front of the house on the opposite side of the locked front door.

(mood music)

Tala approaches it smoothly despite shivering against the frigid air. She knows she's on. I see her adjust her jacket, boosting her breasts. She knocks firm and loud enough to sound over the television inside.

I hear the locks click open. The door opens ever so slightly, the inviting glow of interior illumination spilling out to light Tala with a stripe of white as she leans her face over to be seen.

"Ni háí-sh?"

"Hello?"

The door opens further.

"Who are you?"

"Sir I'm from California. America? I think I'm lost. I'd be very grateful for some help."

She sexily postures with unspoken promise of a good fucking time.

The man steps out from the doorway, closing it behind himself...and catching a glimpse of me in his peripheral vision in the extinguishing light from the inside.

I lunge, reaching for and snatching his right wrist, pulling, with my left hand while I free my 6 inch hunting knife from it's sheath with my right.

I slam the knife into the soft tissue between his lower jaw and above his Adam's apple, it CHUKS wetly as he inhales sharply, grunting. I immediately pull the blade free and stab three times to his left carotid. Arterial spray douses poor Tala, painting her in crimson. She gapes and backs away.

I waste no time.

I fling the door open as the stabbed falls to his knees, bleeding out. The two men within leap to their feet in surprise and I hesitate. They're both taller.

They exchange looks. Unsure of what to do-

-then turn to me and advance.

I instinctively back away, arms up at the ready, blade awaiting it's second taste, as they close in cautiously. These ain't no cowards, nor do they seem very likely to make a stupid mistake here.

Goddammit...

The one to my right feints and I nervously slash...the exact opening the one to my left needs. These fucks are good.

Lefty swipes at my right wrist using the momentum of my slash to force my knife hand down at an angle against my left hip. He kicks a split second into Lefty's swipe, it lands on my forearm and forces me to drop the knife.

FUCK!

Not only that, I deftly manage to send the blade sliding out the open door with my heel as I backpedal. Lefty and Righty both lunge, Lefty landing a hard right to my face, Righty with a low kick to my right leg with his left.

Lefty slams into me with his forward momentum as Righty lands the kick to my knee. It buckles. I find myself tripping, falling to my back, my head knocking against the hardwood floor. Funny how a wrestler forgets to tuck his chin in a street fight.

I OOOF!! as my back hits, sandwiched between ground and larger bodied Lefty. He wraps scratchy palms and fingers around my neck and slams my head. I lay my face to the left, peering at my knife, most likely just out of reach. Then I see Tala...

She meets my gaze, terrified...

...then spins and disappears into the darkness!!

Tala!? ......_TALA_!!??

What.

The.

FUCK!?

Urk! Lefty begins to throttle me, forcing me to face him. Righty lands a hard kick to my ribs.

TALA!! You-

I choke-gag as Lefty tightens his grip. I feel my eyes are about to pop out of their cavities.

Tala's terrified expression and flight fights it's way back into my thoughts. She just abandoned me...left me to die! I take another kick to the ribs but it merely echoes hollowly within my torso...

The rage sparking inside is now dulling the pain.

I look in Lefty's heathen eyes-

Fuck you Injun-Joe.

-and I snap my hands out to grasp the sides of his face like a melon. My thumbs press into his eyes. Hard. I SQUISH with all my might but his positioning atop me allows him to simply pull up and back, wailing in pain as he kicks away from me.

I hear a door open and slam closed a second later.

Righty lands another kick. I roll with it to the side and rise swiftly to my feet, stumbling a bit, woozy, from the strangling. He charges in as Lefty sits back on his ass, rubbing at his eyes. I jump to the side just as Righty reaches me.

I snatch my knife at the front door and roll over onto my back to see him already bearing down on me, raising his right boot for a stomp to my face.

A quick roll to the side avoids the stomp. I take the opportunity to stab into Righty's upper-inner right thigh. The blade punches through his pant material and lands. Righty crumbles to the floor as I pull the blade free.

I rise partially to leap onto his form, switching up the grip on my knife...and I arch a powerful downward stab into and through his left temple.

Lefty growls something in his native language and I spin to a crouch to see him, eyes bloodshot, snarl at me. I catch a glimpse of one of the two men formerly in the back room watching flaccidly from behind Lefty.

Lefty clumsily barrels towards me as I yank at the knife in a spasming Righty's temple.

It won't come loose!

Lefty SPEARS at me!

I roll through it with a simple martial arts maneuver and launch him with my feet, upside down, out the front door.

Frantically I rise, pull the knife from Righty and follow Lefty out, catching him on his back, disoriented. I kneel and stab away into his chest. He raises a hand to block, I stab into his palm, shove it aside with my free hand and continue.

I pound the blade down into his right eye. Then once more into the center of his throat. I feel the tip of the blade CRUNCH into his spine. He jerks. I pull the blade free and turn to the house.

Mr. Watchy is in the doorway and suddenly grabs for the knob. I dash forward.

He pulls the door nearly closed and I smash into it, my solid 230 pounds busting it through the frame and off the hinges. Watchy falls to the floor with the door atop him, struggling.

I guesstimate and stab into the wood.

It pierces. I hear a muffled UH!

I pull the knife free, rise, kick the door aside and see Watchy with a fresh piercing to the forehead. His breathing is shallow, his eyes glassy. He'll die soon.

I look to the door beyond which the fifth and final man resides...with the fifth mysterious item.

In the sudden break from the fighting I notice the tv is still on.

How Far Is Heaven? A hop, skip and a Caedus.

Clutching the knife, I approach the closed backroom door. I, unwisely, lay my right ear to it's surface.

Silence.

I stand to the side of the entrance, turn the knob, and pull the door open.

Silence.

I slam the door, stride to the opposite side of it and fling it open again, popping my head over for a split second.

I saw the fifth sitting on a bed.

I pop my head over again...Waity does nothing. Stares at me, a briefcase on his lap. He lifts it, holds it out to me.

I frown, entering slowly, watching for any movement. His free hand remains on his lap. I see no weapons.

I walk over to Waity...reach out...and take the briefcase. It's heavy.

Endorphins release in my brain. The item.

Silently Waity watches me, expression peaceful.

I back out the door.

I back through the front room, avoiding bodies.

Waity does nothing, just sits there, clad in a how-the-hell-did-he-get-that THE BIGGEST LITTLE CITY IN THE WORLD long sleeve T-shirt.

I back out the front door frame and angle away from his line of sight. I wait a few seconds.

Silence.

The fuck?

In the weak light extending from the open doorway I release the briefcases unlocked clasps and open it...

A large, ancient looking gold nugget rolls around within. Looks very expensive.

Now THAT'S a mysterious item.

Silence.

Unsure as to why Waity is doing nothing about his comrades' slaying, but grateful, I steal away into the night. Tala is nowhere to be seen.

■■■■■■

PRESENT DAY

"-or press pound for more options."

::BEEP::

"Baby, I appreciate that you cared enough to drop me a line on the official site in celebration of my winnin' the Leap of Faith match...but where the fuck have you gone off to? You won't return my calls, my texts... Anyway, I ain't mad atcha Tala, just...hit me up when you get this, ok?"

I end call.

"Red Light, Mr. Green"

"Barn'...you better have sat through that shit and read the lyrics on-screen if you ain't already familiar. No, that wasn't my usual inexplicably perfect matching of lyrics as ammo to my opponent, that was _for_ you, BG. That there is your new entrance music.

Oh, what's that? "This is (your) final match," you say?

Nah bro, it ain't.

"Why?"

'Cause I fuckin' said so, that's why. You wanna quit? No. I won't allow it.

"Who (am I) to say that?"

You know who I am. Am I a member o' the brass capable of leveraging your contract against you to _keep_ you here? Well...no. Am I someone capable of devoting time to trackin' you down for each and every one o' my promos so as to endlessly smack you around, fuckin' with you relentlessly? Yeah, that's the one. And I'll do it goddammit, I'll hound you 'til the day you eventually waddle in front of a semi and splatter all over the highway simply to escape the cycle o' new suffering. I've heard your continuous rehash o' your shitty life and pained existence. You ain't the only one, pal. F-Y-I, pound for pound I've been tortured as much as you have. I'm also aware of your multiple physical problems including that empty eye socket. I hurt too, Barn'. Constantly. You think all that shit's a bur under the saddle? Follow through with your washout and I'll introduce you to a level of torture that'll have you nostalgically yearnin' for the days all you had to worry about was the pain in your back and knees.

What's my motivation behind this?

For as long as I've been on the roster you've served as a source of inspiration for me, Barney. Another tormented soul with the gumption to never give up. You may lose an awful lot more than I do...but it ain't about the victories in that ring for you, it's about the competition. The heart. And when it comes to heart, there're few who can contend with you. Until you decided you'd had enough that is, WELL before you should be considering retirement in my own humble opinion, with what I heard spoken of backstage as self-loathing defeatist comments.

Notice how this ain't my usual colorful attack? You sapped that outta me, Barney, at least for the time being, with your capitulation. T-B-H it depresses me to no end...and I've already got an MIA girlfriend and my own off-topic witch hunt to worry about right now.

Snap out of it, man. Now. You're Barney Green. Living Legend.

When we step into that venue in Hollywood this Saturday night you'd better locate that fire within you...or _I'LL_ burn you the fuck down and watch you carted off to the morgue.

You wanna retire brotha Green? You're gonna hafta beat me in that ring first. You up to the challenge?

That's rhetorical. I _KNOW_ you're up to the challenge. Keep your chin up and bring it, bro.

And Barney?

Don't you ever doubt yourself again."

XXXYXOXUXXTXHXEXXMXAXNXXX

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