Post by Thaddeus Duke on Jul 9, 2023 11:45:30 GMT -5
The night was dark and rain soaked as I ran around the corner into an alley, looking back every few steps. A single street light flickered overhead, the last vestiges of the failing power grid. Turning another corner, I stopped and leaned over with my hands upon my knees, trying to catch the breath that may never come. Covered in a hood, I threw it off, letting the last rain drops wash away the dirt and sweat. Soon, another shot rings out, buzzing by my head. Out of instinct, I ducked.
“...a-a-a-a-ddder, ladder,” I heard from somewhere. In the moment, it sounded like a bad microphone screeching in my ears.
Thereafter, I darted for a fire escape as I ran for my life. The two men chased after me as I climbed. No more than a story up, I heard a scream that couldn’t be more than a block away. A female scream.
“..e-e-e-elp her,” I heard, then the screeching in my ears followed it.
“Damn,” I muttered to myself as I stopped and grabbed my ears. I considered ignoring her cries and saving myself. Something inside me forced me to stop. It’s not what my father would do. Or my older brother.
In this day and age, the Fascists didn’t care about consent. They didn’t care about age. The only thing they cared about was getting what they wanted. If there was a girl out in the streets, it was a blessing to her if it was just one man. Normally, they traveled in groups. Rarely less than two, mostly more than four.
“...n-n-n-eeds you, Talon,” came that voice again.
“Who’s there?” I called out, but received no reply. Someone said my name but… I could almost swear it sounded like…
“...g-g-g-get a move on, son!”
“Dad!?”
Hearing her scream again, I was unable to ignore it, I dropped back down the fire escape, put my hood back up, and ran toward the screams. The two men chasing me went down the wrong alley anyway so I had some time. Quickly making my way down the alley, I found a pipe laying against an overflowing dumpster.
“Yell again,” I said to myself as I jogged. Moments later, she did. I ran at full speed in her direction and I nearly passed them up. Putting on the brakes, I didn’t hesitate. Swinging the pipe like it was a ball bat, I cracked the first man across his back. That freed the girl's legs as he had been pinning them down for his buddy.
“Aww shit..” he yelped out. It’d be the final words he’d ever say. As he turned around, I busted him upside his skull. The other man was oblivious until his friend's brains spilled out beside him.
“Yo what the…” he said as he jumped to his feet with his pants and shorts around his ankles. I never let him finish. He landed on top of his friend.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I reached my hand out to her. Shaken, she said nothing but nodded. Reluctant to take my hand, she gets to her feet under her own power. In the flickering light, I almost thought I recognized her.
“...g-g-g-g-ood job, son,” came the voice again. This time, I ignored the screeching in my ears.
“What’s your name?” she asked. “You sound familiar.”
“Ismini!?” I said a bit too loudly of one of my old friends as I removed my hood. Ismini Raven. Daughter to James and Atara.
“TALON!” she cried out as we threw our arms around each other.
In 2038, you can’t count on many people. Mostly just yourself. My father saw it coming the year I was born. That January, fascist conservatives stormed the Capitol to overturn an election. They were lied to repeatedly but it either didn’t matter, or they didn’t care. More hatred and division between them and their fellow man grew in the following months and years until a military coup overthrew the government in 2025. That military occupation has since splintered into their own factions warring against each other, but in the intervening years, people like my father, people like me, people like Ismini’s parents who were tolerant of differences, who had empathy and compassion for others, who supported a person's right to be who they were rounded up into prison camps throughout the country… and Eastern Canada.
“Down here!” shouted one of my pursuers.
"...e-e-e smar-r-rt, Tal-l-l-lon!" Came that voice again.
Without warning, I shoved Ismini back into the dark hole I found her in. “No matter what happens, don’t move until either they’re dead or I am,” I warned her. With the pipe still in hand, I laid face down on the pavement just a few feet from the two dead fascists as a pair of footsteps rounded the corner. I moved very little and moaned, feigning injury.
“Looks like you put up a fight,” he said as he leaned over and grabbed my arm. As he flipped me on my back I was able to crack him in the skull with the pipe. It staggered him backward and he spun around. With his bell clearly rung, I ripped the pistol from his hand just as the other attacker showed up.
“The fuck happened?” he asked his friend. In the darkness, he doesn’t see me standing directly behind him. Pointing the gun at the back of the injured man's skull, I pulled the trigger. One shot took them both out.
"...i-i-ice… nice," said the voice in my head.
“You alright, Izzy?” I asked after turning my head toward Ismini.
“Yeah,” she said quietly as she stepped from the shadows.
“Did they…”
“No,” she interrupted.
“Have they ever?” I asked.
“Not so far,” she answered.
We didn’t stay in the alley. It’s not safe in the dark. The darkest souls love the night. We walked quickly and quietly, sure to avoid the remaining street lamps. I could have left her there to her own devices. That’s not how I was raised. Instead, I led her through the city toward my ‘lair.’ Really, it’s just a basement of an old bombed out factory in Queens.
After lighting a fire, I took half of my bedding and made Izzy a bed of her own. Finding her a safe place to stay is tomorrow’s problem. Tonight, we’ll rest.
“Talon?” Ismini called out. “Do you think things will ever get better?”
“The only way they can, is if we do something to make them better,” I replied.
“Where would we start?” she asked as her energy drained.
“We?” I questioned, but elected to answer her. “Priority one is finding out where they put my brother and sister. Before I can do that, I need to get home.”
“Honey,” she said as she lifted her head to look at me. “That house you grew up in is a stronghold for fascists now.”
“I know, but my dad left something there for me,” I replied. “And Mufasa.”
“You think he’s still alive?” she asked.
“I hope,” is all I could muster.
"Fort Knox,” she said with an air of certainty. “That’s where they put all the high value kids.”
“Frankie isn’t a kid,” I reminded her. “What made us high value?”
“Your dad was who he was,” she answered quickly then laid her head back down. “How’d you get away?”
“Dad taught me well,” I smiled as I stared into the flames while thinking back on that day.
From a distance, we could hear the shelling and the bombs. Manhattan was about to fall to the fascists if it hadn’t already. Frankie was 24 then and had gone off to join the liberal resistance. When the trucks pulled up through the lawn, crashing our gates and fences, my father stood the lawn almost statuesque. He’d stand his ground until his last breath.
“Why didn’t you join too?” I’d asked him countless times.
“My place is here,” he’d always said. “I know my destiny, Talon. So I’ve been showin’ you yours.”
“What’s my destiny?” I’d asked.
“Reunite the Triad,” was always the answer. I never understood what that meant. I had asked him many times, but I always got the same thing: “Find freedom. The Triad is the key.”
Anytime I thought of my dad, I always ended up twirling the necklace he gave me. Dad gave all three of us a matching necklace. The charm was just a bronze number 7.
“You?” I asked Izzy as I fidgeted with the charm.
“Mom taught me to lie better than anyone,” she replied. “T.J.?”
“Yeah?” I smiled briefly. Frankie always called me T.J. Dad sometimes too. No one has called me T.J. in three years.
“I’m coming with you,” she stated confidently as she started to drift off to sleep.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” I replied as I shut my eyes. That’s a battle I’d rather wage when I’m fresh. She’s a Raven, you gotta be fresh.
"...o-o-ome… some sleep, T.J."
“A-a-a-llow me to address the elephant in the roo-o-o-om. Since it ha–a-s already been a topic of discussion this week and that’s my perceived retirement earlier this year. Ther-r-r-r-e are people in this business that lo-o-o-ve to spin their own narr-r-r-ative, thinkin they kno-o-o-w everything abou-u-u-t everyone when really, they-y-y-y don’t know jack.
“I never r-r-r-etired. I did, however, take my ball and go home. Not because I didn’t have heart as someone claimed, but because I wanted som-m-m-ething different. That something different didn’t exist until Triad.
“The difference between me and… vir-r-r-tually everyone else in this business, is that I don’t need constant gratification and validation. I d-d-don’t need main events and titles to make me feel like a man, to make me f-f-f-eel like a superstar com-m–m-mpetitor.
“I know exa-a-a-actly what I am. I know what it is that I do better than most. Me choosing that wrestling isn’t as important as my family isn’t n-n-n-ew revelation. Wrestling has played second fiddle to my family from the moment my two youngest were born. An-n-n-d that won’t e-e-ever change.
“Being a father is the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done and will probably ever do. There are no paychecks, no titles, no main events or pay per view posters that will ever change that.
“I’ve taken to Triad, because it’s different, it’s interesting. Wher-r-r-re other men and women are content to play wrestler night after night, chasing titles and being champions in order to seek out there next little bit of validation, I’ve done everything I set out to do when I started. Yeah, I’m only 24, But being dad and husband is my primary job and I guess my absence in the grand scheme of professional wrestling is the pri-i-ice you all pay for allowing me to accomplish all my goals so damn young.
“Never once though, did I ever say I was retired. Since the mo-o-o-ment I made the decision to stay home, I have always maintained that if something or someone interested me enough, I’d do it.
“S-s-so here I am. About to depart for Miami, about to show LC Pinkston and Penelope just what it means to be a hyper-focused, goal oriented man that’s never needed a gimmick to get over. About to welcome two more competitors to the Thaddeus Duke Show and if you don’t know what I mean by that, then you really haven’t been paying attention.
“I’ve never been afraid to give credit where it’s due and I’ll credit L.C. for not being a boring run of the mill wrestler. Sometimes, it’s better to be lucky than good and Pinkston has proved that during his time in this business.
“Penelope, on-n-n-n the other-r-r-r hand. While she may be cute as hell, and wanna stab everyone and anyone, it takes more than sharp objects and the promise of blood and violence to beat someone like me.
“No matter what either of these two can dish out, I can dish out just as much and people never think that’s the case because they’re al-l-l-ways judging the book by its cover. I’m easy on the eyes and they always think, ‘well he’s a nice looking guy, no way he can get down, dirty and bloody with the perceived tough guys.’
“You don’t fight four wars and face actual death on no less than five occasions without being a little bit hardcore, or a little bit tough. Being underestimated is my superpower. I’m pretty, I’m not 6’6”, I don’t have mu-u-u-scles on top of other muscles, and I’m not a tatted up brute. What I have is skill and adaptability.
“What these two are about to learn is that whatever they can dish out, so can I. I make no illusions. I don’t guarantee winning it all like most of the others. What I can guarantee is that if someone is able to beat me, they d-d-damn well earned it and they’ll be better for it in their next fight. What’s different is, while that’s true for most that face me… it’s rarely true in my own case. That’s what sets me apart from ever-r-ryone else.”
I awakened in the darkness with the embers of the fire at a faint glow. That voice… I heard it several times tonight. There was no doubt in my mind who it belonged to.
“Dad?” I called out. “You here?”
I received no reply. After a few minutes, I laid my head back down.
“...a-a-a-a-ddder, ladder,” I heard from somewhere. In the moment, it sounded like a bad microphone screeching in my ears.
Thereafter, I darted for a fire escape as I ran for my life. The two men chased after me as I climbed. No more than a story up, I heard a scream that couldn’t be more than a block away. A female scream.
“..e-e-e-elp her,” I heard, then the screeching in my ears followed it.
“Damn,” I muttered to myself as I stopped and grabbed my ears. I considered ignoring her cries and saving myself. Something inside me forced me to stop. It’s not what my father would do. Or my older brother.
In this day and age, the Fascists didn’t care about consent. They didn’t care about age. The only thing they cared about was getting what they wanted. If there was a girl out in the streets, it was a blessing to her if it was just one man. Normally, they traveled in groups. Rarely less than two, mostly more than four.
“...n-n-n-eeds you, Talon,” came that voice again.
“Who’s there?” I called out, but received no reply. Someone said my name but… I could almost swear it sounded like…
“...g-g-g-get a move on, son!”
“Dad!?”
Hearing her scream again, I was unable to ignore it, I dropped back down the fire escape, put my hood back up, and ran toward the screams. The two men chasing me went down the wrong alley anyway so I had some time. Quickly making my way down the alley, I found a pipe laying against an overflowing dumpster.
“Yell again,” I said to myself as I jogged. Moments later, she did. I ran at full speed in her direction and I nearly passed them up. Putting on the brakes, I didn’t hesitate. Swinging the pipe like it was a ball bat, I cracked the first man across his back. That freed the girl's legs as he had been pinning them down for his buddy.
“Aww shit..” he yelped out. It’d be the final words he’d ever say. As he turned around, I busted him upside his skull. The other man was oblivious until his friend's brains spilled out beside him.
“Yo what the…” he said as he jumped to his feet with his pants and shorts around his ankles. I never let him finish. He landed on top of his friend.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I reached my hand out to her. Shaken, she said nothing but nodded. Reluctant to take my hand, she gets to her feet under her own power. In the flickering light, I almost thought I recognized her.
“...g-g-g-g-ood job, son,” came the voice again. This time, I ignored the screeching in my ears.
“What’s your name?” she asked. “You sound familiar.”
“Ismini!?” I said a bit too loudly of one of my old friends as I removed my hood. Ismini Raven. Daughter to James and Atara.
“TALON!” she cried out as we threw our arms around each other.
In 2038, you can’t count on many people. Mostly just yourself. My father saw it coming the year I was born. That January, fascist conservatives stormed the Capitol to overturn an election. They were lied to repeatedly but it either didn’t matter, or they didn’t care. More hatred and division between them and their fellow man grew in the following months and years until a military coup overthrew the government in 2025. That military occupation has since splintered into their own factions warring against each other, but in the intervening years, people like my father, people like me, people like Ismini’s parents who were tolerant of differences, who had empathy and compassion for others, who supported a person's right to be who they were rounded up into prison camps throughout the country… and Eastern Canada.
“Down here!” shouted one of my pursuers.
"...e-e-e smar-r-rt, Tal-l-l-lon!" Came that voice again.
Without warning, I shoved Ismini back into the dark hole I found her in. “No matter what happens, don’t move until either they’re dead or I am,” I warned her. With the pipe still in hand, I laid face down on the pavement just a few feet from the two dead fascists as a pair of footsteps rounded the corner. I moved very little and moaned, feigning injury.
“Looks like you put up a fight,” he said as he leaned over and grabbed my arm. As he flipped me on my back I was able to crack him in the skull with the pipe. It staggered him backward and he spun around. With his bell clearly rung, I ripped the pistol from his hand just as the other attacker showed up.
“The fuck happened?” he asked his friend. In the darkness, he doesn’t see me standing directly behind him. Pointing the gun at the back of the injured man's skull, I pulled the trigger. One shot took them both out.
"...i-i-ice… nice," said the voice in my head.
“You alright, Izzy?” I asked after turning my head toward Ismini.
“Yeah,” she said quietly as she stepped from the shadows.
“Did they…”
“No,” she interrupted.
“Have they ever?” I asked.
“Not so far,” she answered.
We didn’t stay in the alley. It’s not safe in the dark. The darkest souls love the night. We walked quickly and quietly, sure to avoid the remaining street lamps. I could have left her there to her own devices. That’s not how I was raised. Instead, I led her through the city toward my ‘lair.’ Really, it’s just a basement of an old bombed out factory in Queens.
After lighting a fire, I took half of my bedding and made Izzy a bed of her own. Finding her a safe place to stay is tomorrow’s problem. Tonight, we’ll rest.
“Talon?” Ismini called out. “Do you think things will ever get better?”
“The only way they can, is if we do something to make them better,” I replied.
“Where would we start?” she asked as her energy drained.
“We?” I questioned, but elected to answer her. “Priority one is finding out where they put my brother and sister. Before I can do that, I need to get home.”
“Honey,” she said as she lifted her head to look at me. “That house you grew up in is a stronghold for fascists now.”
“I know, but my dad left something there for me,” I replied. “And Mufasa.”
“You think he’s still alive?” she asked.
“I hope,” is all I could muster.
"Fort Knox,” she said with an air of certainty. “That’s where they put all the high value kids.”
“Frankie isn’t a kid,” I reminded her. “What made us high value?”
“Your dad was who he was,” she answered quickly then laid her head back down. “How’d you get away?”
“Dad taught me well,” I smiled as I stared into the flames while thinking back on that day.
From a distance, we could hear the shelling and the bombs. Manhattan was about to fall to the fascists if it hadn’t already. Frankie was 24 then and had gone off to join the liberal resistance. When the trucks pulled up through the lawn, crashing our gates and fences, my father stood the lawn almost statuesque. He’d stand his ground until his last breath.
“Why didn’t you join too?” I’d asked him countless times.
“My place is here,” he’d always said. “I know my destiny, Talon. So I’ve been showin’ you yours.”
“What’s my destiny?” I’d asked.
“Reunite the Triad,” was always the answer. I never understood what that meant. I had asked him many times, but I always got the same thing: “Find freedom. The Triad is the key.”
Anytime I thought of my dad, I always ended up twirling the necklace he gave me. Dad gave all three of us a matching necklace. The charm was just a bronze number 7.
“You?” I asked Izzy as I fidgeted with the charm.
“Mom taught me to lie better than anyone,” she replied. “T.J.?”
“Yeah?” I smiled briefly. Frankie always called me T.J. Dad sometimes too. No one has called me T.J. in three years.
“I’m coming with you,” she stated confidently as she started to drift off to sleep.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” I replied as I shut my eyes. That’s a battle I’d rather wage when I’m fresh. She’s a Raven, you gotta be fresh.
"...o-o-ome… some sleep, T.J."
“A-a-a-llow me to address the elephant in the roo-o-o-om. Since it ha–a-s already been a topic of discussion this week and that’s my perceived retirement earlier this year. Ther-r-r-r-e are people in this business that lo-o-o-ve to spin their own narr-r-r-ative, thinkin they kno-o-o-w everything abou-u-u-t everyone when really, they-y-y-y don’t know jack.
“I never r-r-r-etired. I did, however, take my ball and go home. Not because I didn’t have heart as someone claimed, but because I wanted som-m-m-ething different. That something different didn’t exist until Triad.
“The difference between me and… vir-r-r-tually everyone else in this business, is that I don’t need constant gratification and validation. I d-d-don’t need main events and titles to make me feel like a man, to make me f-f-f-eel like a superstar com-m–m-mpetitor.
“I know exa-a-a-actly what I am. I know what it is that I do better than most. Me choosing that wrestling isn’t as important as my family isn’t n-n-n-ew revelation. Wrestling has played second fiddle to my family from the moment my two youngest were born. An-n-n-d that won’t e-e-ever change.
“Being a father is the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done and will probably ever do. There are no paychecks, no titles, no main events or pay per view posters that will ever change that.
“I’ve taken to Triad, because it’s different, it’s interesting. Wher-r-r-re other men and women are content to play wrestler night after night, chasing titles and being champions in order to seek out there next little bit of validation, I’ve done everything I set out to do when I started. Yeah, I’m only 24, But being dad and husband is my primary job and I guess my absence in the grand scheme of professional wrestling is the pri-i-ice you all pay for allowing me to accomplish all my goals so damn young.
“Never once though, did I ever say I was retired. Since the mo-o-o-ment I made the decision to stay home, I have always maintained that if something or someone interested me enough, I’d do it.
“S-s-so here I am. About to depart for Miami, about to show LC Pinkston and Penelope just what it means to be a hyper-focused, goal oriented man that’s never needed a gimmick to get over. About to welcome two more competitors to the Thaddeus Duke Show and if you don’t know what I mean by that, then you really haven’t been paying attention.
“I’ve never been afraid to give credit where it’s due and I’ll credit L.C. for not being a boring run of the mill wrestler. Sometimes, it’s better to be lucky than good and Pinkston has proved that during his time in this business.
“Penelope, on-n-n-n the other-r-r-r hand. While she may be cute as hell, and wanna stab everyone and anyone, it takes more than sharp objects and the promise of blood and violence to beat someone like me.
“No matter what either of these two can dish out, I can dish out just as much and people never think that’s the case because they’re al-l-l-ways judging the book by its cover. I’m easy on the eyes and they always think, ‘well he’s a nice looking guy, no way he can get down, dirty and bloody with the perceived tough guys.’
“You don’t fight four wars and face actual death on no less than five occasions without being a little bit hardcore, or a little bit tough. Being underestimated is my superpower. I’m pretty, I’m not 6’6”, I don’t have mu-u-u-scles on top of other muscles, and I’m not a tatted up brute. What I have is skill and adaptability.
“What these two are about to learn is that whatever they can dish out, so can I. I make no illusions. I don’t guarantee winning it all like most of the others. What I can guarantee is that if someone is able to beat me, they d-d-damn well earned it and they’ll be better for it in their next fight. What’s different is, while that’s true for most that face me… it’s rarely true in my own case. That’s what sets me apart from ever-r-ryone else.”
I awakened in the darkness with the embers of the fire at a faint glow. That voice… I heard it several times tonight. There was no doubt in my mind who it belonged to.
“Dad?” I called out. “You here?”
I received no reply. After a few minutes, I laid my head back down.