Post by Preecha Kamon on Oct 24, 2017 11:38:43 GMT -6
> Play
The first thing to be seen was a close up of Armand’s chin as he futzed around with the camera. After mumbling some curses and sighs, he pulled away to look at the viewer which he had flipped to face front wise.
Armand De La Fontaine
Alright, that should be good…
Armand backed up a couple of feet. He was the most stripped down he had been in a long time with just a sky-blue dress shirt and black dress pants. His hair was uncharacteristically disheveled and his goatee was on the verge of turning into a full beard. He appeared to be shooting on the altar of the church. The rug under his feet was a bright red and the walls were a white stained with nasty bits of yellow. A disregarded cross sat in the corner of the screen. Armand slapped his hands together.
Armand De La Fontaine
The fateful day is coming close! The second annual Killing Floor is less than a week away and you can be damn sure that everyone involved is feeling it! This is the Pay-Per-View that etches names into history and pours blood into the soil! It is the day we find out who truly deserves to be UCI World Heavyweight Champion!...The number is nine. Nine different competitors will enter that chamber of death. Nine wrestlers who have earned their right to be there, one way or another. No place to run, no place to hide. The only way to walk away from this match at the end is to face your demons and show the world how badly it is you want to survive, let alone become the Champion!
Because, the men and women in this match are some of the best the company have to offer and when you give them weapons, an environment with bite, and a carrot of pure gold to hang in front of their face, it can only be a recipe for fight of the goddamn century! We might have two well-known monsters in there, but to be honest, not one human being will be locked up in those pods on Sunday.
Armand placed a hand to his chin.
Armand De La Fontaine
So, only one question remains...Who is it, among these nine competitors, that will have the will to make the necessary sacrifice needed to win this match?...Because, I can only hope that you all know that there is no winning this match if you are not ready to set fire to your hopes and aspirations. Because the one who ends up champion at the end of the show might just end up being champion until the monitor finally flatlines.
Armand runs his hand through his messy hair in an attempt to get it to sit back into place but the wild strands instantly bounce up again and return to their natural spot of unrest, though Armand seems not to notice.
Armand De La Fontaine
Now, you may think, ‘Armand, isn’t that a little much? To say that someone could die…’ And if you so happen to be one of the people competing in said match and thought this, give up now because you don’t have what it takes to become champ. Because, let me tell you something. This isn’t just about a belt with some gold on it. It isn’t just competition. This is a fulfilment of a destiny! Now, any other title match any other time of the year, you can say what you want but this time it is different. Because the people in this match aren’t here just because they want the pay raise or the endorsement deals or the spotlight. These people, who willingly...No!...Fought! to get themselves here are here because there is something in their being that needs this purpose! Needs this reason!
These are blood feuds; long time rivalries and friendships! This is redemption; the answer for the fallen and hopeless! This is the last chance for some of us and the start of the obsession for others...To feel, for once, that all that we have gone through has meaning. That are the scars, bruises, broken bones, and losses - beyond just the losses in the ring - had a bigger plan than we could ever conceive on our own. And that is exactly what the nine will be fighting for. When those pods start opening up, the idea of the championship will be forgotten and all that will be left is the question of ‘how far will I have to go…?’ and I hope they have their answer ready because I know for my boy Preecha, the answer will be ‘All the way to hell’!
________
He leveled the Desert Eagle towards his foe without even a tremor in his wrist. It was the first time in two or so years that he had to use it. He had already shot seven bullets, six of them kill shots and now he planned for one more. But before he would let the hammer slam down, lighting up a small bit of powder that would send a led projectile flying faster than the speed of sound - the sound of which he, himself, could not hear - he wanted to ask one question…
He did his best, with his limitation, to enunciate each syllable as clearly as possible, not sure if the words would end up slurred. He would ask and then wait to read the lips of the bastard in front of him. Depending on the answer, it would either lengthen the fuse or shorten it. But make no mistake, the bastard’s fate was still the same. So, with careful calculation, he asked the million dollar question.
Preecha Kamon
Wh-air...ez...Armand…!?
A bloodied face Russian stood and stared down the barrel of his judge and jury. His breathing was heavy and his limbs weak. He was grabbing hold of his right arm up at the bicep where a deep red stain had trailed down the sleeve of his beige leather jacket. The arm seemed about ready to fall off, judging by the size of the hole.
Valentin Konov
How did you think this was going to end?
A moment, please...Do you know who Armand De La Fontaine is? I do. I didn’t at first but then I learned...If you were to say a French Gangster from Texas who manages a deaf Muay Thai Kickboxer, you’d only be scratching the surface. Only seeing the end product without being able to appreciate the time and effort of how he got there, where he had been, and the obscured motivations of his being. To only call him a Gangster would be to disregard Armand the child. To cut away the years of innocence that served as a blank canvas to the marks and smears of his headlong experiences, which we all, as humans, wade through.
Armand was born, in Bondy, France, under the name Armand Thomas Bernard. He would later adopt ‘De La Fontaine’ - which was his mother’s maiden name - at the age of eighteen. He changed it due to despising The Bernards, his father’s side of the family, when they claimed his mother to be an operator of a brothel - declaring that her work-from-home business was a front - after his father passed away. They challenged the contents of his will and due to alleged ‘unlawful’ conduct, despite never being able to prove in a court of law, were able to get his father’s acquisitions reallocated among themselves.
But, before the falling out, when Armand Thomas Bernard was just a young boy, he loved his family, he loved France, and he loved what he believed to be the goodness in people. His uncles and aunts on both sides would give him lessons of life that he took with the unironic overt-seriousness that children are to have when they believe in such things as heroes and hard work. To him, these adults were perfect, beautiful and intelligent. Their words were law and worth protecting even if they might have conflicted. To him, the conflict was poetry and just as true as the parallels he saw in others.
It was his uncle on his Mother’s side, Uncle Boden De La Fontaine who told him the single truth that survived all other truths. Through the years when he would lose his belief in heroes and hard work, lose his innocence, and lose his love for what he believed to be the goodness in people, this truth was the solemn advice that didn’t shatter like glass against the wall.
Uncle Boden was a police officer, one who did his job well. But the consequence of doing his job well was that his wife would, daily, rile herself up into manic fits worrying that this would be the day she would get ‘the call’ whenever he was out. She begged him to quit and do something safer but he never did. One day, after Boden had returned home from a day on the beat, entering onto Little Armand’s mother comforting her sister-in-law out of a tear-inducing fit, Armand asked his uncle a question in their native tongue.
Little Armand
[If it is such a dangerous job why do you do it, Oncle? If Tante Ally is so sad when you leave, why do you go even though it breaks her heart?]
Uncle Boden was a man of great humor, despite being a police officer. But when Armand asked about his duty and his purpose, Uncle Boden became very serious. He crouched down to look Little Armand in the eyes and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[Oh, precious Neveu. How do I explain it so your young, inexperienced mind can grab hold?]
Armand took offense as kids due when they are reminded that they aren’t a finished human, but yet just a seed, a sprout, that has yet to grow into who they will be. He scrunched his little face up and crossed his arms which returned all the missing humor back to his uncle’s face with a hardy laugh.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[Oh, do not take offense, garçon! Haha! You will find soon that you will learn many things faster than you can understand then, but even at an age like mine, there will be things you don’t understand. But Armand, to answer your question, which I assure you is a very important one and to which there is only one answer; and if anyone were to ask you the same question, you must answer in the same way.]
Armand was entranced with the promise of gravity and importance that he was about to be entrusted with. So much so that he lost the sour feeling in his gut and his arms unconsciously fell to his side.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[It is not everyday, in fact it is very few days in a lifetime. But when the day comes - and trust me, you will know when it has arrived - that your greatest challenge as a human being dawns over the horizon and losing is not an option, the only way you will succeed is if you make a sacrifice.]
As if expecting a specific answer read from an instruction manual, Armand’s next question came out before it was even a thought.
Little Armand
[What kind of sacrifice?]
But his Uncle did not wish to condescend or to sugar coat. He could see it in the young child’s eyes that this was going to stay with him for the rest of his life. So, he thought for a moment, letting emanate a colorful hum of ‘hmmm’ from his throat.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[Well, Neveu, that depends.]
Little Armand
[On what?!?]
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[On the kind of man you are; what it is that you want. There are so many different kind of answers to this question that it would be too difficult to describe them all. Some men who are selfish and infected by greed, wanting material riches, will sacrifice those closest to them to get it.]
The French child looked quizzically at the ground for a moment, not fully being able to take in the kind of mindset that it would take to betray the people one cares for. His thoughts were - in so many words - ‘aren’t they the reason we do anything? Aren’t the people we love the reason we live and breathe?’ He looked over to his mother through the doorway, sitting in the dining room, still consoling Aunt Ally who had come down quite a ways compared to the mess she was earlier. He imagined for a moment, trying to grab hold of an idea he didn’t understand, what it would take for him to be willing to sacrifice her. Of course, it goes without saying that the child failed to think of anything satisfactory. But, seeing the mental struggle his nephew was going through, Uncle Boden thought quick to add to his statement, to strike on the important part of his words.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[But, for some men, who are dedicated to a purpose and a reason, something much more powerful than greed, it sometimes means we sacrifice our wants, our happiness, and sometimes ourselves. Because, if we don’t, something much more serious will be lost.]
Being that this was the part of the moral Armand felt he could easily understand, he thought himself already on the path of the ‘good man’ and puffed out his chest and with arms akimbo, smiled his simple, baby pearly whites. In his confidence, it was apparent that the one thing he could not understand was the weight of what a sacrifice truly was. It wouldn’t be a sacrifice if it was easy, if it was simple, if it was expendable. He did not know the true heart ache that followed all-and-ever sacrifice humanity has made over its existence. Even the sacrifices of these alleged greedy men would drain their spirit and will; some never being truly able to enjoy what they achieved from it.
His Uncle reached around and flicked Armand hard on the ear. The child was shocked and slightly hurt with a similar sourness as earlier. He rubbed his ear and frowned to his usually humorous uncle, not sure what it was that had earned him such unfavorable treatment.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[You stupid child! Life is not so simple! No one will be there to tell you where, when, how, or what to sacrifice! There are no signs to tell you which side is wrong or right or whether there is a wrong or right to begin with! And most of all, just because you sacrifice, does not mean you will succeed. Many have sacrificed everything they had and still failed!...And even when they do succeed…Even when they do it for all the right reasons...]
Uncle Boden looked into the kitchen himself and from his angle he was able to see his wife, the love of his life. Her face red and puffy from her tears but with the same glowing green eyes he had fallen in love with. Then with a sigh, he turned back to the young, naive, future ‘Gangster’.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[They end up leaving behind so much pain that it cripples those they were trying to protect.]
A silence fell over the house for the rest of the night as Armand had no more questions and the family as a whole just wished for a moment of peace amongst themselves. By the time it was deep into the night, all things were well again. Armand and his mother left the complicated couple and headed for home.
It would be two years later that Uncle Boden would be shot while patrolling the streets. It was gang warfare that sprang up on a hot summer day, in the lower end suburban-scape the officer happened to be approaching. Hearing the shots ring out through the streets, the officer called for backup before heading straight into the heat of the action. He worked to help people avoid the danger as best as possible, leading them through the streets and around the corners. It was when he was leading a young girl out of harm’s way that he was hit in the back with a bullet; first entering into his spine and quickly making work of his stomach and right lung. Mrs. Ally De La Fontaine, wife for thirteen years, never a mother, finally received the call.
Not long afterwards, they held a funeral with a full police escort and many officers from all around France attended. Many lives were saved that day, due to the work of Officer Boden De La Fontaine. The survivors were grateful for his help and paid their respects by showing up to the service. Uncle Boden died a hero.
Armand, looking out among the crowd, having never seen such a large gathering before, spotted, without knowing it at the time, the young girl Uncle Boden died protecting. They were about the same age but their demeanors varied greatly as the face of the young girl seemed sullen and aged to an extent. Tears rolled down her face as so many things hit her all at once after having arrived at the funeral with her mother. Not only was it the near encounter with the afterlife, but also the thought that she was the cause of such a great man’s death. And even further, having arrived at the funeral, she was now able to connect a widow and a sister - Armand’s mother - to the officer and how much he had to leave behind in order to save her life.
It hurt her but the mother couldn’t be more thankful as the thought of being so close to losing her daughter tore her to shreds. Like many of the other adults there, she thought of the man as a hero, never needing to know more than his actions that day...But, the only person who wasn’t able to see him as a hero that day was Aunt Ally. She knew he did an amazing thing and that he was braver than anyone she had ever known. She understood that he was an extraordinary officer in the line of duty, but she just wanted her husband back. She wanted to see the magnificent smile that she had fallen in love with. She knew it was selfish of her but she would have given up all those people just to have him back for one more day, to convince him to stay home and give up life as a police officer. ‘It could have been tomorrow that I could have convinced him.’ She continually thought to herself at the funeral as people repeatedly approached her and gave their condolences. Though this time she wasn’t the teary-eyed mess she was two years ago. This time she was quiet and stoic…
Armand, while peering at the young girl for no particular reason, wondered if the sacrifice was worth it this time...Many ideas are planted into our minds as children and there is no telling, for the most part, how it will shape us as we grow. We catch so many different little things like sieves passing through the universe, amalgamating experiences into thoughts and reasons. There is no guarantee that we will get the right bits in the right order, but despite whether or not it happens, we have to develop our life philosophies with the bits we get and the order we get them in. One hopes that there could be someone able to forgive us for the things we end up doing…
Through his teenage years, Armand worked very hard in school. Even when his father passed away in his junior year and The Bernards unexpectedly turned their backs on his mother and him. The court case was a long and brutal affair as certain members of The Bernard family were well-to-do and pushed through many complicated, tedious, and intricate motions and orders as to not only drown the widow in paperwork but to make the issue unclear and murky for the case in question. The judge, only in a narrow technicality, awarded in favor of The Bernards. The law had failed Armand and his mother.
But, despite this, Armand ended up graduating as one of the Top Ten of his class and was able to get a scholarship to study abroad in America. Upon getting accepted into The University of Houston, he kept his nose in the books, but all the time his mind was elsewhere, planning something bigger than his career. He had a vision of a network, a strategy of cohabitation, a plan to tame the Lone Star State and the darkness within it...And then possibly all the activities at the border of the United States and Mexico.
He majored in business. And at the age of twenty-three, planned, with his fellow graduates, the beginnings of a club called ‘The Masters and Margaritas’. The rest was history as he rose, not only in the Austin night-life but also in the Texas crime world; developing mutually-beneficial relations with the Russians while keeping a watchful eye on his allies/adversaries. It was his dream to bring peace to the world of crime and attempt to prevent anymore terrible, unnecessary funerals like he had experienced as a kid. As he saw it, the law wasn’t enough, so it took someone with the brains to do so, to get their hands dirty and bring about such a pipe-dream.
It didn’t necessarily work out as he had planned, though. Unfortunately, there were some things that Armand could only learn through experience. In his want for peace, Armand first had to start a war. He would think to himself ‘maybe this is the fateful day Oncle was talking about. Maybe this is the sacrifice I must make.’ And indeed sacrifices were made as territories and power were battled for in the streets of Austin.
Eventually, with a mind of sound strategy and the will to always put it all on the line for the purpose he was fighting for, Armand rose to the top and conquered his foes and a time of peace followed as all who did business in Texas had to pass through Armand and followed his ruling. Eventually a deaf fighter from a small gang hardly worth noting would arrive and the French Gangster would finally find someone worthy of his trust.
But it was peace short lived as eventually The Wave would come through and his hopes of spreading his grasp to the border went up in smoke along with his nightclub, as the border exploded in what is popularly referred to as “The Mexico Incident”.
___________
Armand looked to the ground in a cold gaze of exhaustion before chuckling and looking back at the camera.
Armand De La Fontaine
Now, people are always on my case. Always wondering why I refuse to tear Preecha’s opponents down. The answer is because I’m not a coward. Only idiots and cowards fail to acknowledge the true ability and power of their opponents. They’d prefer to hide behind lies and think about all the failures and shortcomings because it stops the shaking, stops the doubts, stops the nightmares and unrest they face at night when they have to lay their head down and pretend that they are completely safe while they sleep. A man who is secure in his abilities doesn’t have to piss on the fires of others to make his look bigger.
We’ve been preparing for this match knowing well enough who it is Preecha is going up against. With five former World Champions and the big man himself, Zombie McMorris, the only competitors who haven’t held the title are Corey Bull, Oblivion, Preecha Kamon. Not only that, but most of these champions made history in their victories! Here you have Kevin Bishop, the longest reigning champion in UCI history and the first ever two time champion. Not only was he the one to take the title away from Bonnie, but Preecha has gone up against the man himself and knows how hard he hits! A truly decorated man and the leader of the fearsome brotherhood. Him alone makes this match a historical event, but with everything else thrown in, it would spell doom for a normal fighter.
If I were to try and minimize any of his achievements, it would be to spit on the industry as a whole. And it would be a lie to say he isn’t one of the favored choices on the gambling circuit. Hell, it would only be fitting for him to drive that wedge further between him and the rest of the roster by becoming the first ever three time World Heavyweight Champion at Killing Floor of all places. Get revenge on Zombie McMorris for cutting his historical second reign so short. It would only be fitting, all things considered.
But with that said, he isn’t the only one that has that urge to return to a former glory! Just consider, for a second, that the man who one the first EVER Killing Floor match happens to be in the second one. Andre Holmes, as much as my Guardian brethren are at odds with you at the moment, I have to admit that your performance last year was one to be remembered and your name will be sure to echo through history. No doubt the fact that you can’t show a lesser attempt this year is one of the main driving forces for you. Andre Holmes is a prideful man. Some would say it is even to a fault with his trademarked ‘Relentlessness’. And it would be exactly that, to win both Killing Floors in a row. The pressure is palpable but I have a feeling that is when the best of Andre Holmes really comes out. Even though you two might be enemies in many ways, there is a sincere excitement Preecha had when he heard he was going to be able to step into the ring with you. You have always been at the top of his list of competitors to test his might against.
And to be honest, there have been a lot of things I have been wanting to say to you after you split from The Guardians. Now, don’t misunderstand me, there is a part of me that thinks you’ve become a despicable young man for what you did. Loyalty is a trait I hold high in my judgement of people and the fact that you turned against your friends and joined the other side is something that hits deep into my soul, but there is also another part of me that gets it. People can judge you all they want but they weren’t the ones that had to make the choice. Funny how the ones on the outside find it so easy to judge yet so difficult to truly perceive. If it was me in your situation, I am not sure how I would react. Though, sadly, unlike you, I don’t have a family to call my own. Partly it is for that very reason. Spending so many years in a world of deceit and danger, I never allowed myself to gain anything that would leave me with a spot of vulnerability that my enemies could use against me.
Sometimes, I wish I had a family. Maybe I would have had a wife who’d beg me to quit my dangerous ways and stay home with her. Maybe I would have kids that would make me forget about my own desires and instead plan for their dreams and aspirations. Maybe I would have been happier. All I know is that in trying to protect myself, I have gone without one of the most important things a man can have in this life and that is someone else to protect besides himself.
Armand pauses for a moment and looks off in a different direction as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.
Armand De La Fontaine
Anyways, there is no point in thinking about such things now. This Sunday, it won’t be about your family and for Preecha, it won’t be about the Guardians. If you two clash in the ring, it will be because you two are the very epitome of True Competitors. But to talk about Andre Holmes, you must also take about the Woman who beat Andre Holmes for the title. That woman being the returning Celeste Mallory. The first ever Woman to win the UCI World Heavyweight Championship. Truly an achievement in itself. To go toe to toe with The Relentless one and come out on top like no one thought possible! But also one of the few people Preecha and I don’t have any experience with which makes you quite the challenger. But we’ve heard your praise all the same. I am not sure if you were aware but your return caused quite the ruckus among the UCI universe. It was almost like Odysseus returning from his long and epic voyage! The warrior had returned and everybody was ready to see how this said warrior had advanced since she had last been seen. But...I have to say one quick thing and then I will hold my piece.
It just strikes me as odd. I know she is an important figure in UCI and I know everyone is really excited to have her back, but it is just weird that her first match back, she gets to butt into the Main Event of one of the biggest Pay-Per-Views of the year. Preecha went through a qualifying match, as did Obi and the other competitors had at least been active in the company for some time now. It is not my right to get bitter but I speak upon the fairness of the others who will be putting their all into it, with their recent history and storming momentum...But alas, I am not the man in control. I don’t sign the paychecks and thus have no power over such decisions. If the bigwigs of UCI think it proper to have Ms. Mallory in this ever so important match, then so be it. It isn’t as if she lacks the credentials. She has the achievements and the history to be deserving of the spot. So, I will keep such worries to myself for now. May her renewed and refreshed run bring her the energy needed to do what she will have to do because she will need it.
As for my Guardian family...well, they know already how I feel…
___________
Armand chuckled. The dark setting of the bunkhouse at The Camp made him a little uneasy. The night in general had him a little uneasy for the last few months. Did he know what was coming next? Knowing the man, probably. But that is neither here nor there. At the moment, being with his comrades was as much comfort as he has been able to afford himself recently.
After the fall of the ‘Masters and Margaritas’ and hiding out with no knowledge of how long he would have to live like that, joining the Guardians made him feel young again. Suddenly, he didn’t find himself thinking of self preservation and running away. Suddenly, all those old pipe-dreams and visions of remolding the world came back and his plans to sink his roots deep into the networks of Chicago were alive with anticipation and excitement. Bonnie was a sight for sore eyes and her band of mutants and misfits seemed to be the catalyst to Armand’s shenanigans and trouble as of late, being a restless old fool who couldn’t help but pick a fight with the biggest dog in the room...A big Russian dog.
But here he was, in The Camp having, what was initially, a meeting about the strategy to approach Killing Floor, quickly turning into the question of whether or not the three of them were going to get into each other’s way. It wasn’t just the title on everybody's’ mind but also the unanswered griefs of their plights. To all of them, Killing Floor was another battlefield. They had fought on so many and overcame so much, but it was always together. Now, they were going to fight on the battlefield but only one of them could overcome.
There was a twinge of surprise in himself as his mind felt cool but his body did everything it could to keep the shaking that he felt in his spine from becoming visible. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pack of Gualoises cigarettes. After ripping away the cellophane, he opened the pack, and flicked the bottom. He grabbed the cigarette that stuck out the furthest and flipped it before putting it back in the carton and pulled out a different one to light. Taking a deep drag, Armand strolled to a window where moonlight beamed onto his pale face and cranked it open. As he spoke, the smoke poured out like the words of a dragon.
Armand De La Fontaine
You know France is trying to ban these? I never thought I’d live to see the day. Why does everything have to change so much?...
Armand exhaled the rest of the smoke out the window to disperse, forever, into the night. He stared at the burning ember at the end of the fag. Gualoises were known for how they burned the throat, especially back before they started putting filters on them. But, at this moment, Armand didn’t feel much at all from his prefered brand.
Armand De La Fontaine
Look, we could go on and on beating around the bush. Saying this and that about how we are a team but how we are also on our own, all while talking about the mission of the greater good. Not that I am knocking it. It is all true, nothing that has been said so far is a falsehood. But, that isn’t the problem. The problem is what is not being said. And what is not being said is that we are all suspicious of each other. We haven’t had a reason up until now to be suspicious. Everything has been peachy-keen. But, after Andre Holmes did what he did and now we are in the situation we are in, the doubts start to set in. It is to be expected, to be honest. And one would have to be naive to not feel it. Hell, even Preecha feels it and that man is solidarity incarnate...Well, he is a lot of things, but one of those things is loyal.
The ash at the end of his cigarette was a decent size before he flicked it off onto the floor. He took another drag and let out two streams of smoke through his nose in a long, deliberate sigh.
Armand De La Fontaine
But, with that said, I will be honest with you. Even though this might seem like a Guardians outing...It isn’t. Sure, Andre Holmes is a threat and it is our chance to finally give him a swift sense of justice like he has never felt before. But, that isn’t the only score aiming to be settled on Sunday. I’m not sure if you two have had time to notice while being taunted by your white whale but Preecha and I found ourselves on the bad end of an Oblivion Rampage not too long ago. And we don’t let that kind of thing go so easily. I don’t mean to sound bitter or offended, but Preecha and I got things on our mind that isn’t just The Society.
Now, I love the Guardians, I truly do. But, even if we wanted to, we can’t work as a team in that ring. We might think we have the advantage in the numbers game and that we just need one good moment to take down Holmes, but we don’t have as big of an advantage as we think. Because as soon as it becomes three against one, it will become three against six before we even notice it. If we work together even the slightest bit, we become the biggest target in the ring and a bigger target means it is easier to hit. We are at a disadvantage then if we decide to be a team and we are at an added disadvantage if we are hesitant to take a swing at each other. Because no one else is going to have this problem. We have to ask ourselves honestly if we are ready to do what needs to be done in order to take away top prize.
Another flick of the cigarette and Armand returned to the center of the cabin. His Guardian teammates looked at him a little uneasy after listening to what was beginning to seem like a declaration of war. And to be honest, that wasn’t far off from how Armand thought of it as well. It killed him to be saying this to some of the only friends he had left but there was no room to let them go on thinking the Guardians would hold true throughout the match. That would be bad, not just for Preecha but for the team as a whole. To get where he felt they needed to be, he had to shake the foundation a little and use the distrust to protect the very people he had relied on in this crazy world.
Armand De La Fontaine
And besides, there is one thing we all know that neither of you are saying…
Armand looked to Preecha who was still staying to the back, in the shadows, not even pretending to be interested in the conversation. The Frenchman pointed, with cigarette in hand, to his fighter.
Armand De La Fontaine
Of the three of you, that man is the only one who hasn’t held the title.
His arm lowered to his side as he turned back around. He flicked, skillfully, the cigarette out the open window. He chuckled and placed his hands behind his head as his humor came back to him in the form of a childish smile showing off his pearly whites.
Armand De La Fontaine
And I can’t tell you why but I am feeling rather selfish this week. I want Preecha to win that title. I could co-sign to the idea that anyone within our group winning it would be good enough. But, I would be deeply disappointed, and I mean deeply disappointed, if it was anyone else besides Preecha; Guardians or otherwise.
Armand turned away in one swift movement, with his hands still behind his head and strolled down towards Preecha before stopping and looking over his shoulder, back to others.
Armand De La Fontaine
Besides, once we step into that ring and our pods open up, we are all going to be a little like Andre Holmes, I guess…
Armand continued forward until he stood in front of Preecha, making sure he had the deaf fighter’s attention so he was able to read his lips.
Armand De La Fontaine
Isn’t that right, Preecha?
The kickboxer shrugged. An image that represented their relationship particularly well. Another thing that on the surface might seem like a symbol of apathy and disconnect. But, when you understand the both of them and how they operated, it is how they have always held themselves. Even in the early days, when it seemed like their biggest enemy was each other, there was a bond building that would prove even too tough for The Wave to tear through. Even in the times when the two seemed to only associate for advantageous purposes and didn’t want to have anything socially to do with each other, they understood each other better than anyone could hope to understand a friend.
The shrug wasn’t apathy, it was trust. Preecha trusted Armand enough to let the man’s words speak for him as well. Armand would never put words into Preecha’s mouth that he didn’t believe to some degree. There might have been times that the words got away from Armand and they were both left to chew on a extra big check they both had to cash but nothing he ever regretted.
When you spend your time with someone in a foxhole, there is something there that normal people can’t understand. Even once you get out of that foxhole and return to civilian life, there is still a responsibility you feel for each other. The wellness of one is the wellness of the other. Pain and heartache are felt by both and loss is mutual. That is what makes what happened next so difficult.
Preecha was deep asleep from a long day of training the previous evening. His limbs were sore and his muscles were limp. There was a moment where he felt a tremor but in his mostly unconscious state, his mind didn’t register any reasons to worry and it was quickly forgotten about but then he smelled a faint scent of something very alarming, even to his subconscious. It was the smell of smoke.
Shocking his brain into full alert, half awake, Preecha jumped out of his bed and raised down the hall where the scent was instantly thicker and the grey clouds were visible and stung his eyes. Reaching the lobby, he looked around and noticed the smoke was bellowing out from the Sanctuary. There were patches of fire all around the altar and to the left, upon entering, was a giant hole in the wall.
Covering his mouth and nose with his shirt, Preecha pushed through the smoke and attempted to move around the fire. It soon became clear what had happened as, on the wall at the back of the altar, there were words spray painted in bright green lines. It took Preecha a moment to read it as it was in a different language, but one he knew very well at this point.
In Russian it said, ‘The King is Dead!’...They had kidnapped Armand
It didn’t take long before Preecha was in full body armor with his goggles over his face and his Desert Eagle holstered at his side. He was on his way out, still in a fiery rage, when scrolled along the hub of his goggles.
Wait, don’t go...
For a moment Preecha hesitated. Any other time, he would heed the word of the hacker that had helped them out so many times before in jams such as this. But, feeling he had no time to wait, he continued on in his march.
I want to help, but I can’t help if you go barging in without even so much as a plan. We can work together to get Armand back. But, we need to meet up first.
Preecha stopped dead in his tracks. Not only was the hacker right about his lack of a plan but the offer to meet was a true sign of how off-kilter the situation truly was. Thinking back, the fact that the Russians didn’t bother to hide their presence and decided to just bust into a church in the middle of Chicago, in Little China no less, was an example of how bad they were after Armand. It hurt Preecha to prolong his rescue, but it might just be a death sentence for both of them to go in with guns blazing. Preecha struggled for a bit but finally agreed to meet up with this mysterious guardian angel…
The address Preecha received was outside of Chicago, in a suburb of Berwyn, a small outdated city filled with old buildings and busted up warehouses. It happened to be one of these busted up warehouses that Preecha was directed to. Pulling his motorcycle to the side of the building, he walked around front and observed the area. It must have been an old factory town that must have flourished at one point because it was surrounded by empty office building, war-time homes and a theatre across the street. The warehouse itself was a grey, rusted, metal building which couldn’t have been up to code. Preecha wasn’t sure he was supposed to knock, worrying that the whole place would come crumbling down if he did.
But, after a moment or so of waiting, the door at the front slowly creaked open. It was difficult to move as the hinges were completely rusted and the metal rubbed against metal. The door couldn’t even swing by itself; being completely still if one lets go of it at any point. Preecha watched from the side with anticipation as he waited to see who it has been that has watched over him and Armand for the last few months.
Steps reverberated through the empty town as, from the shadows of the building, came your narrator…
Trinity Hayashi
Hello Preecha…
____________
Armand De La Fontaine
But, with all this said, you all might just be good or great as I have mentioned...But Preecha is better. In truth, even for those who have faced the man before, you have no idea what you are in for. Preecha was built for situations like this. When the chips are down and there is nothing but risk, Preecha excels. Now, he isn’t a man who is keen on using such violent weapons if he doesn’t have to but that is only because he is a weapon. This man is not just a trained fighter, he is a trained soldier and Killing Floor is a true to life battlefield. He worked this hard to get into it, you’re damn sure he isn’t going to be satisfied with just qualifying.
I, myself, would be concerned with the other legacies that are going to be in that ring when it finally happens, but Preecha lives by one code. It doesn’t matter how many times you win, how many awards you accumulate, how long you have been doing it, every competitor, man or beast can and will lose to the fist. All he sees are a bunch of people who’ve had their chance and eventually wasted it. He sees this as his time to break that glass ceiling that has been there all his life because of his handicap. He trains and fights as hard as he possibly can so you have to forget that this man is deaf. Because deaf or not, you will have to acknowledge him as one of the best to ever step into the ring. Whether it is a fist, an elbow, a kick, or the mother fucking Kamon Kannon, Preecha will leave an impression mentally and physically that you won’t be able to recover from for a long time. To him it is time for a new era, one of The Warrior.
|| Pause
[To be continued in “I, Ghost… (Part 4)”]
The first thing to be seen was a close up of Armand’s chin as he futzed around with the camera. After mumbling some curses and sighs, he pulled away to look at the viewer which he had flipped to face front wise.
Armand De La Fontaine
Alright, that should be good…
Armand backed up a couple of feet. He was the most stripped down he had been in a long time with just a sky-blue dress shirt and black dress pants. His hair was uncharacteristically disheveled and his goatee was on the verge of turning into a full beard. He appeared to be shooting on the altar of the church. The rug under his feet was a bright red and the walls were a white stained with nasty bits of yellow. A disregarded cross sat in the corner of the screen. Armand slapped his hands together.
Armand De La Fontaine
The fateful day is coming close! The second annual Killing Floor is less than a week away and you can be damn sure that everyone involved is feeling it! This is the Pay-Per-View that etches names into history and pours blood into the soil! It is the day we find out who truly deserves to be UCI World Heavyweight Champion!...The number is nine. Nine different competitors will enter that chamber of death. Nine wrestlers who have earned their right to be there, one way or another. No place to run, no place to hide. The only way to walk away from this match at the end is to face your demons and show the world how badly it is you want to survive, let alone become the Champion!
Because, the men and women in this match are some of the best the company have to offer and when you give them weapons, an environment with bite, and a carrot of pure gold to hang in front of their face, it can only be a recipe for fight of the goddamn century! We might have two well-known monsters in there, but to be honest, not one human being will be locked up in those pods on Sunday.
Armand placed a hand to his chin.
Armand De La Fontaine
So, only one question remains...Who is it, among these nine competitors, that will have the will to make the necessary sacrifice needed to win this match?...Because, I can only hope that you all know that there is no winning this match if you are not ready to set fire to your hopes and aspirations. Because the one who ends up champion at the end of the show might just end up being champion until the monitor finally flatlines.
Armand runs his hand through his messy hair in an attempt to get it to sit back into place but the wild strands instantly bounce up again and return to their natural spot of unrest, though Armand seems not to notice.
Armand De La Fontaine
Now, you may think, ‘Armand, isn’t that a little much? To say that someone could die…’ And if you so happen to be one of the people competing in said match and thought this, give up now because you don’t have what it takes to become champ. Because, let me tell you something. This isn’t just about a belt with some gold on it. It isn’t just competition. This is a fulfilment of a destiny! Now, any other title match any other time of the year, you can say what you want but this time it is different. Because the people in this match aren’t here just because they want the pay raise or the endorsement deals or the spotlight. These people, who willingly...No!...Fought! to get themselves here are here because there is something in their being that needs this purpose! Needs this reason!
These are blood feuds; long time rivalries and friendships! This is redemption; the answer for the fallen and hopeless! This is the last chance for some of us and the start of the obsession for others...To feel, for once, that all that we have gone through has meaning. That are the scars, bruises, broken bones, and losses - beyond just the losses in the ring - had a bigger plan than we could ever conceive on our own. And that is exactly what the nine will be fighting for. When those pods start opening up, the idea of the championship will be forgotten and all that will be left is the question of ‘how far will I have to go…?’ and I hope they have their answer ready because I know for my boy Preecha, the answer will be ‘All the way to hell’!
________
He leveled the Desert Eagle towards his foe without even a tremor in his wrist. It was the first time in two or so years that he had to use it. He had already shot seven bullets, six of them kill shots and now he planned for one more. But before he would let the hammer slam down, lighting up a small bit of powder that would send a led projectile flying faster than the speed of sound - the sound of which he, himself, could not hear - he wanted to ask one question…
He did his best, with his limitation, to enunciate each syllable as clearly as possible, not sure if the words would end up slurred. He would ask and then wait to read the lips of the bastard in front of him. Depending on the answer, it would either lengthen the fuse or shorten it. But make no mistake, the bastard’s fate was still the same. So, with careful calculation, he asked the million dollar question.
Preecha Kamon
Wh-air...ez...Armand…!?
A bloodied face Russian stood and stared down the barrel of his judge and jury. His breathing was heavy and his limbs weak. He was grabbing hold of his right arm up at the bicep where a deep red stain had trailed down the sleeve of his beige leather jacket. The arm seemed about ready to fall off, judging by the size of the hole.
Valentin Konov
How did you think this was going to end?
A moment, please...Do you know who Armand De La Fontaine is? I do. I didn’t at first but then I learned...If you were to say a French Gangster from Texas who manages a deaf Muay Thai Kickboxer, you’d only be scratching the surface. Only seeing the end product without being able to appreciate the time and effort of how he got there, where he had been, and the obscured motivations of his being. To only call him a Gangster would be to disregard Armand the child. To cut away the years of innocence that served as a blank canvas to the marks and smears of his headlong experiences, which we all, as humans, wade through.
Armand was born, in Bondy, France, under the name Armand Thomas Bernard. He would later adopt ‘De La Fontaine’ - which was his mother’s maiden name - at the age of eighteen. He changed it due to despising The Bernards, his father’s side of the family, when they claimed his mother to be an operator of a brothel - declaring that her work-from-home business was a front - after his father passed away. They challenged the contents of his will and due to alleged ‘unlawful’ conduct, despite never being able to prove in a court of law, were able to get his father’s acquisitions reallocated among themselves.
But, before the falling out, when Armand Thomas Bernard was just a young boy, he loved his family, he loved France, and he loved what he believed to be the goodness in people. His uncles and aunts on both sides would give him lessons of life that he took with the unironic overt-seriousness that children are to have when they believe in such things as heroes and hard work. To him, these adults were perfect, beautiful and intelligent. Their words were law and worth protecting even if they might have conflicted. To him, the conflict was poetry and just as true as the parallels he saw in others.
It was his uncle on his Mother’s side, Uncle Boden De La Fontaine who told him the single truth that survived all other truths. Through the years when he would lose his belief in heroes and hard work, lose his innocence, and lose his love for what he believed to be the goodness in people, this truth was the solemn advice that didn’t shatter like glass against the wall.
Uncle Boden was a police officer, one who did his job well. But the consequence of doing his job well was that his wife would, daily, rile herself up into manic fits worrying that this would be the day she would get ‘the call’ whenever he was out. She begged him to quit and do something safer but he never did. One day, after Boden had returned home from a day on the beat, entering onto Little Armand’s mother comforting her sister-in-law out of a tear-inducing fit, Armand asked his uncle a question in their native tongue.
Little Armand
[If it is such a dangerous job why do you do it, Oncle? If Tante Ally is so sad when you leave, why do you go even though it breaks her heart?]
Uncle Boden was a man of great humor, despite being a police officer. But when Armand asked about his duty and his purpose, Uncle Boden became very serious. He crouched down to look Little Armand in the eyes and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[Oh, precious Neveu. How do I explain it so your young, inexperienced mind can grab hold?]
Armand took offense as kids due when they are reminded that they aren’t a finished human, but yet just a seed, a sprout, that has yet to grow into who they will be. He scrunched his little face up and crossed his arms which returned all the missing humor back to his uncle’s face with a hardy laugh.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[Oh, do not take offense, garçon! Haha! You will find soon that you will learn many things faster than you can understand then, but even at an age like mine, there will be things you don’t understand. But Armand, to answer your question, which I assure you is a very important one and to which there is only one answer; and if anyone were to ask you the same question, you must answer in the same way.]
Armand was entranced with the promise of gravity and importance that he was about to be entrusted with. So much so that he lost the sour feeling in his gut and his arms unconsciously fell to his side.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[It is not everyday, in fact it is very few days in a lifetime. But when the day comes - and trust me, you will know when it has arrived - that your greatest challenge as a human being dawns over the horizon and losing is not an option, the only way you will succeed is if you make a sacrifice.]
As if expecting a specific answer read from an instruction manual, Armand’s next question came out before it was even a thought.
Little Armand
[What kind of sacrifice?]
But his Uncle did not wish to condescend or to sugar coat. He could see it in the young child’s eyes that this was going to stay with him for the rest of his life. So, he thought for a moment, letting emanate a colorful hum of ‘hmmm’ from his throat.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[Well, Neveu, that depends.]
Little Armand
[On what?!?]
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[On the kind of man you are; what it is that you want. There are so many different kind of answers to this question that it would be too difficult to describe them all. Some men who are selfish and infected by greed, wanting material riches, will sacrifice those closest to them to get it.]
The French child looked quizzically at the ground for a moment, not fully being able to take in the kind of mindset that it would take to betray the people one cares for. His thoughts were - in so many words - ‘aren’t they the reason we do anything? Aren’t the people we love the reason we live and breathe?’ He looked over to his mother through the doorway, sitting in the dining room, still consoling Aunt Ally who had come down quite a ways compared to the mess she was earlier. He imagined for a moment, trying to grab hold of an idea he didn’t understand, what it would take for him to be willing to sacrifice her. Of course, it goes without saying that the child failed to think of anything satisfactory. But, seeing the mental struggle his nephew was going through, Uncle Boden thought quick to add to his statement, to strike on the important part of his words.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[But, for some men, who are dedicated to a purpose and a reason, something much more powerful than greed, it sometimes means we sacrifice our wants, our happiness, and sometimes ourselves. Because, if we don’t, something much more serious will be lost.]
Being that this was the part of the moral Armand felt he could easily understand, he thought himself already on the path of the ‘good man’ and puffed out his chest and with arms akimbo, smiled his simple, baby pearly whites. In his confidence, it was apparent that the one thing he could not understand was the weight of what a sacrifice truly was. It wouldn’t be a sacrifice if it was easy, if it was simple, if it was expendable. He did not know the true heart ache that followed all-and-ever sacrifice humanity has made over its existence. Even the sacrifices of these alleged greedy men would drain their spirit and will; some never being truly able to enjoy what they achieved from it.
His Uncle reached around and flicked Armand hard on the ear. The child was shocked and slightly hurt with a similar sourness as earlier. He rubbed his ear and frowned to his usually humorous uncle, not sure what it was that had earned him such unfavorable treatment.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[You stupid child! Life is not so simple! No one will be there to tell you where, when, how, or what to sacrifice! There are no signs to tell you which side is wrong or right or whether there is a wrong or right to begin with! And most of all, just because you sacrifice, does not mean you will succeed. Many have sacrificed everything they had and still failed!...And even when they do succeed…Even when they do it for all the right reasons...]
Uncle Boden looked into the kitchen himself and from his angle he was able to see his wife, the love of his life. Her face red and puffy from her tears but with the same glowing green eyes he had fallen in love with. Then with a sigh, he turned back to the young, naive, future ‘Gangster’.
Uncle Boden De La Fontaine
[They end up leaving behind so much pain that it cripples those they were trying to protect.]
A silence fell over the house for the rest of the night as Armand had no more questions and the family as a whole just wished for a moment of peace amongst themselves. By the time it was deep into the night, all things were well again. Armand and his mother left the complicated couple and headed for home.
It would be two years later that Uncle Boden would be shot while patrolling the streets. It was gang warfare that sprang up on a hot summer day, in the lower end suburban-scape the officer happened to be approaching. Hearing the shots ring out through the streets, the officer called for backup before heading straight into the heat of the action. He worked to help people avoid the danger as best as possible, leading them through the streets and around the corners. It was when he was leading a young girl out of harm’s way that he was hit in the back with a bullet; first entering into his spine and quickly making work of his stomach and right lung. Mrs. Ally De La Fontaine, wife for thirteen years, never a mother, finally received the call.
Not long afterwards, they held a funeral with a full police escort and many officers from all around France attended. Many lives were saved that day, due to the work of Officer Boden De La Fontaine. The survivors were grateful for his help and paid their respects by showing up to the service. Uncle Boden died a hero.
Armand, looking out among the crowd, having never seen such a large gathering before, spotted, without knowing it at the time, the young girl Uncle Boden died protecting. They were about the same age but their demeanors varied greatly as the face of the young girl seemed sullen and aged to an extent. Tears rolled down her face as so many things hit her all at once after having arrived at the funeral with her mother. Not only was it the near encounter with the afterlife, but also the thought that she was the cause of such a great man’s death. And even further, having arrived at the funeral, she was now able to connect a widow and a sister - Armand’s mother - to the officer and how much he had to leave behind in order to save her life.
It hurt her but the mother couldn’t be more thankful as the thought of being so close to losing her daughter tore her to shreds. Like many of the other adults there, she thought of the man as a hero, never needing to know more than his actions that day...But, the only person who wasn’t able to see him as a hero that day was Aunt Ally. She knew he did an amazing thing and that he was braver than anyone she had ever known. She understood that he was an extraordinary officer in the line of duty, but she just wanted her husband back. She wanted to see the magnificent smile that she had fallen in love with. She knew it was selfish of her but she would have given up all those people just to have him back for one more day, to convince him to stay home and give up life as a police officer. ‘It could have been tomorrow that I could have convinced him.’ She continually thought to herself at the funeral as people repeatedly approached her and gave their condolences. Though this time she wasn’t the teary-eyed mess she was two years ago. This time she was quiet and stoic…
Armand, while peering at the young girl for no particular reason, wondered if the sacrifice was worth it this time...Many ideas are planted into our minds as children and there is no telling, for the most part, how it will shape us as we grow. We catch so many different little things like sieves passing through the universe, amalgamating experiences into thoughts and reasons. There is no guarantee that we will get the right bits in the right order, but despite whether or not it happens, we have to develop our life philosophies with the bits we get and the order we get them in. One hopes that there could be someone able to forgive us for the things we end up doing…
Through his teenage years, Armand worked very hard in school. Even when his father passed away in his junior year and The Bernards unexpectedly turned their backs on his mother and him. The court case was a long and brutal affair as certain members of The Bernard family were well-to-do and pushed through many complicated, tedious, and intricate motions and orders as to not only drown the widow in paperwork but to make the issue unclear and murky for the case in question. The judge, only in a narrow technicality, awarded in favor of The Bernards. The law had failed Armand and his mother.
But, despite this, Armand ended up graduating as one of the Top Ten of his class and was able to get a scholarship to study abroad in America. Upon getting accepted into The University of Houston, he kept his nose in the books, but all the time his mind was elsewhere, planning something bigger than his career. He had a vision of a network, a strategy of cohabitation, a plan to tame the Lone Star State and the darkness within it...And then possibly all the activities at the border of the United States and Mexico.
He majored in business. And at the age of twenty-three, planned, with his fellow graduates, the beginnings of a club called ‘The Masters and Margaritas’. The rest was history as he rose, not only in the Austin night-life but also in the Texas crime world; developing mutually-beneficial relations with the Russians while keeping a watchful eye on his allies/adversaries. It was his dream to bring peace to the world of crime and attempt to prevent anymore terrible, unnecessary funerals like he had experienced as a kid. As he saw it, the law wasn’t enough, so it took someone with the brains to do so, to get their hands dirty and bring about such a pipe-dream.
It didn’t necessarily work out as he had planned, though. Unfortunately, there were some things that Armand could only learn through experience. In his want for peace, Armand first had to start a war. He would think to himself ‘maybe this is the fateful day Oncle was talking about. Maybe this is the sacrifice I must make.’ And indeed sacrifices were made as territories and power were battled for in the streets of Austin.
Eventually, with a mind of sound strategy and the will to always put it all on the line for the purpose he was fighting for, Armand rose to the top and conquered his foes and a time of peace followed as all who did business in Texas had to pass through Armand and followed his ruling. Eventually a deaf fighter from a small gang hardly worth noting would arrive and the French Gangster would finally find someone worthy of his trust.
But it was peace short lived as eventually The Wave would come through and his hopes of spreading his grasp to the border went up in smoke along with his nightclub, as the border exploded in what is popularly referred to as “The Mexico Incident”.
___________
Armand looked to the ground in a cold gaze of exhaustion before chuckling and looking back at the camera.
Armand De La Fontaine
Now, people are always on my case. Always wondering why I refuse to tear Preecha’s opponents down. The answer is because I’m not a coward. Only idiots and cowards fail to acknowledge the true ability and power of their opponents. They’d prefer to hide behind lies and think about all the failures and shortcomings because it stops the shaking, stops the doubts, stops the nightmares and unrest they face at night when they have to lay their head down and pretend that they are completely safe while they sleep. A man who is secure in his abilities doesn’t have to piss on the fires of others to make his look bigger.
We’ve been preparing for this match knowing well enough who it is Preecha is going up against. With five former World Champions and the big man himself, Zombie McMorris, the only competitors who haven’t held the title are Corey Bull, Oblivion, Preecha Kamon. Not only that, but most of these champions made history in their victories! Here you have Kevin Bishop, the longest reigning champion in UCI history and the first ever two time champion. Not only was he the one to take the title away from Bonnie, but Preecha has gone up against the man himself and knows how hard he hits! A truly decorated man and the leader of the fearsome brotherhood. Him alone makes this match a historical event, but with everything else thrown in, it would spell doom for a normal fighter.
If I were to try and minimize any of his achievements, it would be to spit on the industry as a whole. And it would be a lie to say he isn’t one of the favored choices on the gambling circuit. Hell, it would only be fitting for him to drive that wedge further between him and the rest of the roster by becoming the first ever three time World Heavyweight Champion at Killing Floor of all places. Get revenge on Zombie McMorris for cutting his historical second reign so short. It would only be fitting, all things considered.
But with that said, he isn’t the only one that has that urge to return to a former glory! Just consider, for a second, that the man who one the first EVER Killing Floor match happens to be in the second one. Andre Holmes, as much as my Guardian brethren are at odds with you at the moment, I have to admit that your performance last year was one to be remembered and your name will be sure to echo through history. No doubt the fact that you can’t show a lesser attempt this year is one of the main driving forces for you. Andre Holmes is a prideful man. Some would say it is even to a fault with his trademarked ‘Relentlessness’. And it would be exactly that, to win both Killing Floors in a row. The pressure is palpable but I have a feeling that is when the best of Andre Holmes really comes out. Even though you two might be enemies in many ways, there is a sincere excitement Preecha had when he heard he was going to be able to step into the ring with you. You have always been at the top of his list of competitors to test his might against.
And to be honest, there have been a lot of things I have been wanting to say to you after you split from The Guardians. Now, don’t misunderstand me, there is a part of me that thinks you’ve become a despicable young man for what you did. Loyalty is a trait I hold high in my judgement of people and the fact that you turned against your friends and joined the other side is something that hits deep into my soul, but there is also another part of me that gets it. People can judge you all they want but they weren’t the ones that had to make the choice. Funny how the ones on the outside find it so easy to judge yet so difficult to truly perceive. If it was me in your situation, I am not sure how I would react. Though, sadly, unlike you, I don’t have a family to call my own. Partly it is for that very reason. Spending so many years in a world of deceit and danger, I never allowed myself to gain anything that would leave me with a spot of vulnerability that my enemies could use against me.
Sometimes, I wish I had a family. Maybe I would have had a wife who’d beg me to quit my dangerous ways and stay home with her. Maybe I would have kids that would make me forget about my own desires and instead plan for their dreams and aspirations. Maybe I would have been happier. All I know is that in trying to protect myself, I have gone without one of the most important things a man can have in this life and that is someone else to protect besides himself.
Armand pauses for a moment and looks off in a different direction as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.
Armand De La Fontaine
Anyways, there is no point in thinking about such things now. This Sunday, it won’t be about your family and for Preecha, it won’t be about the Guardians. If you two clash in the ring, it will be because you two are the very epitome of True Competitors. But to talk about Andre Holmes, you must also take about the Woman who beat Andre Holmes for the title. That woman being the returning Celeste Mallory. The first ever Woman to win the UCI World Heavyweight Championship. Truly an achievement in itself. To go toe to toe with The Relentless one and come out on top like no one thought possible! But also one of the few people Preecha and I don’t have any experience with which makes you quite the challenger. But we’ve heard your praise all the same. I am not sure if you were aware but your return caused quite the ruckus among the UCI universe. It was almost like Odysseus returning from his long and epic voyage! The warrior had returned and everybody was ready to see how this said warrior had advanced since she had last been seen. But...I have to say one quick thing and then I will hold my piece.
It just strikes me as odd. I know she is an important figure in UCI and I know everyone is really excited to have her back, but it is just weird that her first match back, she gets to butt into the Main Event of one of the biggest Pay-Per-Views of the year. Preecha went through a qualifying match, as did Obi and the other competitors had at least been active in the company for some time now. It is not my right to get bitter but I speak upon the fairness of the others who will be putting their all into it, with their recent history and storming momentum...But alas, I am not the man in control. I don’t sign the paychecks and thus have no power over such decisions. If the bigwigs of UCI think it proper to have Ms. Mallory in this ever so important match, then so be it. It isn’t as if she lacks the credentials. She has the achievements and the history to be deserving of the spot. So, I will keep such worries to myself for now. May her renewed and refreshed run bring her the energy needed to do what she will have to do because she will need it.
As for my Guardian family...well, they know already how I feel…
___________
Armand chuckled. The dark setting of the bunkhouse at The Camp made him a little uneasy. The night in general had him a little uneasy for the last few months. Did he know what was coming next? Knowing the man, probably. But that is neither here nor there. At the moment, being with his comrades was as much comfort as he has been able to afford himself recently.
After the fall of the ‘Masters and Margaritas’ and hiding out with no knowledge of how long he would have to live like that, joining the Guardians made him feel young again. Suddenly, he didn’t find himself thinking of self preservation and running away. Suddenly, all those old pipe-dreams and visions of remolding the world came back and his plans to sink his roots deep into the networks of Chicago were alive with anticipation and excitement. Bonnie was a sight for sore eyes and her band of mutants and misfits seemed to be the catalyst to Armand’s shenanigans and trouble as of late, being a restless old fool who couldn’t help but pick a fight with the biggest dog in the room...A big Russian dog.
But here he was, in The Camp having, what was initially, a meeting about the strategy to approach Killing Floor, quickly turning into the question of whether or not the three of them were going to get into each other’s way. It wasn’t just the title on everybody's’ mind but also the unanswered griefs of their plights. To all of them, Killing Floor was another battlefield. They had fought on so many and overcame so much, but it was always together. Now, they were going to fight on the battlefield but only one of them could overcome.
There was a twinge of surprise in himself as his mind felt cool but his body did everything it could to keep the shaking that he felt in his spine from becoming visible. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pack of Gualoises cigarettes. After ripping away the cellophane, he opened the pack, and flicked the bottom. He grabbed the cigarette that stuck out the furthest and flipped it before putting it back in the carton and pulled out a different one to light. Taking a deep drag, Armand strolled to a window where moonlight beamed onto his pale face and cranked it open. As he spoke, the smoke poured out like the words of a dragon.
Armand De La Fontaine
You know France is trying to ban these? I never thought I’d live to see the day. Why does everything have to change so much?...
Armand exhaled the rest of the smoke out the window to disperse, forever, into the night. He stared at the burning ember at the end of the fag. Gualoises were known for how they burned the throat, especially back before they started putting filters on them. But, at this moment, Armand didn’t feel much at all from his prefered brand.
Armand De La Fontaine
Look, we could go on and on beating around the bush. Saying this and that about how we are a team but how we are also on our own, all while talking about the mission of the greater good. Not that I am knocking it. It is all true, nothing that has been said so far is a falsehood. But, that isn’t the problem. The problem is what is not being said. And what is not being said is that we are all suspicious of each other. We haven’t had a reason up until now to be suspicious. Everything has been peachy-keen. But, after Andre Holmes did what he did and now we are in the situation we are in, the doubts start to set in. It is to be expected, to be honest. And one would have to be naive to not feel it. Hell, even Preecha feels it and that man is solidarity incarnate...Well, he is a lot of things, but one of those things is loyal.
The ash at the end of his cigarette was a decent size before he flicked it off onto the floor. He took another drag and let out two streams of smoke through his nose in a long, deliberate sigh.
Armand De La Fontaine
But, with that said, I will be honest with you. Even though this might seem like a Guardians outing...It isn’t. Sure, Andre Holmes is a threat and it is our chance to finally give him a swift sense of justice like he has never felt before. But, that isn’t the only score aiming to be settled on Sunday. I’m not sure if you two have had time to notice while being taunted by your white whale but Preecha and I found ourselves on the bad end of an Oblivion Rampage not too long ago. And we don’t let that kind of thing go so easily. I don’t mean to sound bitter or offended, but Preecha and I got things on our mind that isn’t just The Society.
Now, I love the Guardians, I truly do. But, even if we wanted to, we can’t work as a team in that ring. We might think we have the advantage in the numbers game and that we just need one good moment to take down Holmes, but we don’t have as big of an advantage as we think. Because as soon as it becomes three against one, it will become three against six before we even notice it. If we work together even the slightest bit, we become the biggest target in the ring and a bigger target means it is easier to hit. We are at a disadvantage then if we decide to be a team and we are at an added disadvantage if we are hesitant to take a swing at each other. Because no one else is going to have this problem. We have to ask ourselves honestly if we are ready to do what needs to be done in order to take away top prize.
Another flick of the cigarette and Armand returned to the center of the cabin. His Guardian teammates looked at him a little uneasy after listening to what was beginning to seem like a declaration of war. And to be honest, that wasn’t far off from how Armand thought of it as well. It killed him to be saying this to some of the only friends he had left but there was no room to let them go on thinking the Guardians would hold true throughout the match. That would be bad, not just for Preecha but for the team as a whole. To get where he felt they needed to be, he had to shake the foundation a little and use the distrust to protect the very people he had relied on in this crazy world.
Armand De La Fontaine
And besides, there is one thing we all know that neither of you are saying…
Armand looked to Preecha who was still staying to the back, in the shadows, not even pretending to be interested in the conversation. The Frenchman pointed, with cigarette in hand, to his fighter.
Armand De La Fontaine
Of the three of you, that man is the only one who hasn’t held the title.
His arm lowered to his side as he turned back around. He flicked, skillfully, the cigarette out the open window. He chuckled and placed his hands behind his head as his humor came back to him in the form of a childish smile showing off his pearly whites.
Armand De La Fontaine
And I can’t tell you why but I am feeling rather selfish this week. I want Preecha to win that title. I could co-sign to the idea that anyone within our group winning it would be good enough. But, I would be deeply disappointed, and I mean deeply disappointed, if it was anyone else besides Preecha; Guardians or otherwise.
Armand turned away in one swift movement, with his hands still behind his head and strolled down towards Preecha before stopping and looking over his shoulder, back to others.
Armand De La Fontaine
Besides, once we step into that ring and our pods open up, we are all going to be a little like Andre Holmes, I guess…
Armand continued forward until he stood in front of Preecha, making sure he had the deaf fighter’s attention so he was able to read his lips.
Armand De La Fontaine
Isn’t that right, Preecha?
The kickboxer shrugged. An image that represented their relationship particularly well. Another thing that on the surface might seem like a symbol of apathy and disconnect. But, when you understand the both of them and how they operated, it is how they have always held themselves. Even in the early days, when it seemed like their biggest enemy was each other, there was a bond building that would prove even too tough for The Wave to tear through. Even in the times when the two seemed to only associate for advantageous purposes and didn’t want to have anything socially to do with each other, they understood each other better than anyone could hope to understand a friend.
The shrug wasn’t apathy, it was trust. Preecha trusted Armand enough to let the man’s words speak for him as well. Armand would never put words into Preecha’s mouth that he didn’t believe to some degree. There might have been times that the words got away from Armand and they were both left to chew on a extra big check they both had to cash but nothing he ever regretted.
When you spend your time with someone in a foxhole, there is something there that normal people can’t understand. Even once you get out of that foxhole and return to civilian life, there is still a responsibility you feel for each other. The wellness of one is the wellness of the other. Pain and heartache are felt by both and loss is mutual. That is what makes what happened next so difficult.
Preecha was deep asleep from a long day of training the previous evening. His limbs were sore and his muscles were limp. There was a moment where he felt a tremor but in his mostly unconscious state, his mind didn’t register any reasons to worry and it was quickly forgotten about but then he smelled a faint scent of something very alarming, even to his subconscious. It was the smell of smoke.
Shocking his brain into full alert, half awake, Preecha jumped out of his bed and raised down the hall where the scent was instantly thicker and the grey clouds were visible and stung his eyes. Reaching the lobby, he looked around and noticed the smoke was bellowing out from the Sanctuary. There were patches of fire all around the altar and to the left, upon entering, was a giant hole in the wall.
Covering his mouth and nose with his shirt, Preecha pushed through the smoke and attempted to move around the fire. It soon became clear what had happened as, on the wall at the back of the altar, there were words spray painted in bright green lines. It took Preecha a moment to read it as it was in a different language, but one he knew very well at this point.
In Russian it said, ‘The King is Dead!’...They had kidnapped Armand
It didn’t take long before Preecha was in full body armor with his goggles over his face and his Desert Eagle holstered at his side. He was on his way out, still in a fiery rage, when scrolled along the hub of his goggles.
Wait, don’t go...
For a moment Preecha hesitated. Any other time, he would heed the word of the hacker that had helped them out so many times before in jams such as this. But, feeling he had no time to wait, he continued on in his march.
I want to help, but I can’t help if you go barging in without even so much as a plan. We can work together to get Armand back. But, we need to meet up first.
Preecha stopped dead in his tracks. Not only was the hacker right about his lack of a plan but the offer to meet was a true sign of how off-kilter the situation truly was. Thinking back, the fact that the Russians didn’t bother to hide their presence and decided to just bust into a church in the middle of Chicago, in Little China no less, was an example of how bad they were after Armand. It hurt Preecha to prolong his rescue, but it might just be a death sentence for both of them to go in with guns blazing. Preecha struggled for a bit but finally agreed to meet up with this mysterious guardian angel…
The address Preecha received was outside of Chicago, in a suburb of Berwyn, a small outdated city filled with old buildings and busted up warehouses. It happened to be one of these busted up warehouses that Preecha was directed to. Pulling his motorcycle to the side of the building, he walked around front and observed the area. It must have been an old factory town that must have flourished at one point because it was surrounded by empty office building, war-time homes and a theatre across the street. The warehouse itself was a grey, rusted, metal building which couldn’t have been up to code. Preecha wasn’t sure he was supposed to knock, worrying that the whole place would come crumbling down if he did.
But, after a moment or so of waiting, the door at the front slowly creaked open. It was difficult to move as the hinges were completely rusted and the metal rubbed against metal. The door couldn’t even swing by itself; being completely still if one lets go of it at any point. Preecha watched from the side with anticipation as he waited to see who it has been that has watched over him and Armand for the last few months.
Steps reverberated through the empty town as, from the shadows of the building, came your narrator…
Trinity Hayashi
Hello Preecha…
____________
Armand De La Fontaine
But, with all this said, you all might just be good or great as I have mentioned...But Preecha is better. In truth, even for those who have faced the man before, you have no idea what you are in for. Preecha was built for situations like this. When the chips are down and there is nothing but risk, Preecha excels. Now, he isn’t a man who is keen on using such violent weapons if he doesn’t have to but that is only because he is a weapon. This man is not just a trained fighter, he is a trained soldier and Killing Floor is a true to life battlefield. He worked this hard to get into it, you’re damn sure he isn’t going to be satisfied with just qualifying.
I, myself, would be concerned with the other legacies that are going to be in that ring when it finally happens, but Preecha lives by one code. It doesn’t matter how many times you win, how many awards you accumulate, how long you have been doing it, every competitor, man or beast can and will lose to the fist. All he sees are a bunch of people who’ve had their chance and eventually wasted it. He sees this as his time to break that glass ceiling that has been there all his life because of his handicap. He trains and fights as hard as he possibly can so you have to forget that this man is deaf. Because deaf or not, you will have to acknowledge him as one of the best to ever step into the ring. Whether it is a fist, an elbow, a kick, or the mother fucking Kamon Kannon, Preecha will leave an impression mentally and physically that you won’t be able to recover from for a long time. To him it is time for a new era, one of The Warrior.
|| Pause
[To be continued in “I, Ghost… (Part 4)”]
