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Prologue 1: In Memorium
Author Message
Brandon Walker
Guest



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#1
06-23-2021, 10:50 AM

[Image: hE3noty.png]

Brandon kneeled down at the gravestone. He gritted his teeth as the wind blew past him. Every time he looked at this gravestone he remembered how it came to be. Every snap decision and mark that was left on him told a tale of grief and strife. Brandon would never let something like this happen to him again.

“Old man, I come to your final resting place to let you know how disappointed I have been in you. The deals you have broken, the souls you attempt to crush. But you know what? I am still living and you are STILL DEAD. And I will remind you of this fact day in and day out.” He spits on the gravestone. “

Keaton Walker
SHAMEFUL FATHER
Loving Father


5 Years Ago


The motorcycle hymed a song like a siren calling out to sea. The wheels aligned on the road and marched to wherever it could have taken Brandon. He throttled the ape hangers, letting the speed surpass the cars on the road. His kutte dashed against the wind as the letters ‘The Lost MC’ draped against his backside.

He felt free on the road, not confined to anything or anyone except Mother Nature. The call to the open air was his religion, his creedence and he had no other allegiances other to his MC and the woman he was sleeping with at the time.

Brandon pulled into the club house, backing his bike towards the line. The engine sputtered down like a cat purring before falling asleep. He was met almost immediately with his shirt grabbed and him being pinned against the wall behind him.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” The scowl from Keaton’s words lit a fire in Brandon’s eyes. He turns away slightly from Keaton as he continues his words. “The Clubhouse….now.”

Keaton lets go of Brandon’s shirt, straightening himself out as he follows Keaton back into the clubhouse.

Pain.

Misery.

Reflections.

He left that clubhouse a mess. The temperament and the beatings he got drove the fire inside him. Brandon kick-started his motorcycle and left. His head skewed, his mind warped. He was striving to survive.


PRESENT DAY

*I am not that all I project.*


He sits down at a cliffside looking out into the ocean. He always comes back here when he has difficulty understanding things and how to make the hard decisions in his life. He keeps thinking back to when he witnessed someone he once cared about get gutted by a blade in the stomach.

He could still visualize the blood seeping from her body as she collapsed by the cliffside. It was a memory that played into his brain on repeat. Every time he had to take care of someone he always thought back to that one moment he was forced to witness being slaughtered in front of him.

Now?

He is the one that leads the slaughter. His many empty thoughts hinged on seeking out justice that he seemed fit. So many people were at the end of the chamber of his gun, so many have taken part in his sadistic ritual before they too succumbed to his knife.

His empathy for people was gone. He only put on a mask to hide his true self. He became what he feared most. He always felt as if he was the monster he never wanted to be. But the twist and turns in his life led him to this life.

He reveled in the misery. He reveled in the emotional trauma that he was on the receiving end of. He wanted to feel something.

He wanted to feel something genuine.

And he kept feeling that nothing. His mind was absent, like a white noise waiting for something to intertwine in his life and make it whole again, to make the absence present.

Nothing came.

He kept searching for something to make him whole again.He searched every corner of the state trying to find the missing pieces in his life, to make him whole again.

Nothing came.

He rarely got afraid, got scared, sad, or even happy and fulfilled. These emotions became foreign to him. They were masks he had to portray as in the end everything he searched for will never come to fruition.

How does he have hope for the future if he doesn’t have it for himself?

He went back to the moment where things started to change. Where it led to him standing over his father’s grave. The disgrace…the memory.

The blank faced Brandon Walker stood over the cold steel of his father. He was calm and collected. Unnerved by the fact that he inserted his knife into Keatons’s body and turned the knife, no remorse came from that. The thousands upon thousands of scenarios that played in his head could have never prevented this moment, it seemed like fates intertwined that day.

He was unphased. He would do it over and over again. He would tear people limb from limb if not to feel something himself.

There were justifications for his actions but he always had that blank expression on his face. That calm and cool collected soul continued to feel nothing. His mind was blank, but he tried to force expressions nonetheless, again he tried to put on the mask that people were accustomed to.

His never ending struggles became neverending once more. He lamented on the people who came into his life and then the ones who left his life and never bothered to come back.

Broken promises have become a tape recording that was always on a rewind. He touched his face to relive all the scars that were on his face, each battle he lost and won he had a flashback towards them, towards a simpler kind of life that he once led.

He hangs onto these memories because he tries to remind himself how it was to feel something for once. To express genuine feelings of love and care, of malice and pain, happy or joy but through all the years he’s been in California and China he had to learn how to fake it.

He looked at his phone and saw Harley’s name light up on his phone. A smile cracked across his face and that emotion that was blank across his face and his was broken by a simple text message. A simple one word response. It made him feel something.

He wanted to feel alive again.
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[-] The following 9 users Like Brandon Walker's post:
"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (06-24-2021), ALIAS (06-25-2021), Doctor Louis D'Ville (06-23-2021), Dolly Waters (06-25-2021), JimCaedus (06-23-2021), Lycana (06-23-2021), NA (06-23-2021), The Blue Tango (06-26-2021), Theo Pryce (06-23-2021)




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