Post by Alkaiser on Jul 18, 2007 15:39:18 GMT 1
The cafeteria is a buzz with activity, as students pour in to get their mid-day meals. Steve Barzahd, long-time troublemaker turned modern-time ghost, sits quietly at a table in the middle of the lunchroom, staring at his tray full of goodies solemnly. Some of his friends come to sit at the table and begin conversing, eating, and laughing together, but Alkaiser does not budge. The boy to his left takes notice...
"Hey, Steve? Whats eating you, man?"
Barzahd doesn't even notice the kid asking the question. The boy becomes a little more agitated at being ignored, and continues his inquiry, while the rest of the table goes about their business.
"Oi, Braindead! Back to planet Earth wit' ya!"
In an instant two figures rise above the table. Alkaiser jumps up, the kid's shirt collar in his clenched fist. "What the hell did you say to me, Biggs?" After a few second delay the rest of the table stands, as if they could diffuse the situation. "Have you forgotten so quickly? YOU used to call ME boss! Should we see if you remember why, or should I spare the hospital staff another trauma case!?" Steve's fist clenches tighter, and the others at the table become a flurry of voices trying to talk him down. "Boss, Let 'im go!" says one. "He's on our side!" pleads another. Over all the other voices, only the forced little mumble of the kid in Steve's grasp makes it to his ears, though. "This is...the first you've acted like our boss in...a long damned time."
Reflecting on what Biggs said, Barzahd drops the boy back to his seat and stands for a moment, contemplating. The blank stare on his face gives way to an angry determination, and he steps away from the table. Out the doors and down the hall, he walks quickly and without words or acknowledgments of anyone else around. The guys go back to their lunch. "What the hell was that about?"
--A few hours later--
A winded Steve Barzahd flops onto the blue training mats that line the weight room of the gymnasium. He sweats profusely and gasps for air. This is where he'd been since the incident in the cafeteria. The punching bag he'd been working floats above him, still standing despite receiving Steve's fiercest training session this semester. There were seven new surface tears, three new bloodstains, and the rivets in the ceiling had to be re-tightened twice to ensure that the bag still floated. The fighter was still not satisfied, however.
"I've been gone for so long...I sank into my daily routine, school, training, homework...But what have I done?" He grasps his water bottle, draining it between his dry lips. The guy makes his way to his feet, still contemplating and talking with himself. "I feel so much stronger, but it still isn't enough. I need to become someone...I need something more...I need to stop wasting my time! To hell with Biggs, I'll become feared once again!!!"
Alkaiser's rage pours over from his reflection, and he tears into the punching bag. His blows rain faster and more powerful than ever before, each one fueled with frustrated adrenaline. He fiercely rolls to the side, simulating a true fight situation in which he would need to dodge and attack at the same time. The bag rocks with a snap kick. It wiggles a little more with a fierce hook. A roundhouse makes it jump. "I'll be great!!!" With a final powerful straight punch, the bag rips itself right off of it's hook, no longer standing tall above the determined warrior. It falls in a puff of sand, pouring out of the tears. "Heh, you're the first of many..." Steve remarks triumphantly. His body soon catches up with him, however, and in an urk of pain he falls to the floor.
Staring at the ceiling and ignoring the fact that all of his muscles have shut down, Alkaiser's mind rushes with a new agenda, sure to bring this ghost back to life.
"Hey, Steve? Whats eating you, man?"
Barzahd doesn't even notice the kid asking the question. The boy becomes a little more agitated at being ignored, and continues his inquiry, while the rest of the table goes about their business.
"Oi, Braindead! Back to planet Earth wit' ya!"
In an instant two figures rise above the table. Alkaiser jumps up, the kid's shirt collar in his clenched fist. "What the hell did you say to me, Biggs?" After a few second delay the rest of the table stands, as if they could diffuse the situation. "Have you forgotten so quickly? YOU used to call ME boss! Should we see if you remember why, or should I spare the hospital staff another trauma case!?" Steve's fist clenches tighter, and the others at the table become a flurry of voices trying to talk him down. "Boss, Let 'im go!" says one. "He's on our side!" pleads another. Over all the other voices, only the forced little mumble of the kid in Steve's grasp makes it to his ears, though. "This is...the first you've acted like our boss in...a long damned time."
Reflecting on what Biggs said, Barzahd drops the boy back to his seat and stands for a moment, contemplating. The blank stare on his face gives way to an angry determination, and he steps away from the table. Out the doors and down the hall, he walks quickly and without words or acknowledgments of anyone else around. The guys go back to their lunch. "What the hell was that about?"
--A few hours later--
A winded Steve Barzahd flops onto the blue training mats that line the weight room of the gymnasium. He sweats profusely and gasps for air. This is where he'd been since the incident in the cafeteria. The punching bag he'd been working floats above him, still standing despite receiving Steve's fiercest training session this semester. There were seven new surface tears, three new bloodstains, and the rivets in the ceiling had to be re-tightened twice to ensure that the bag still floated. The fighter was still not satisfied, however.
"I've been gone for so long...I sank into my daily routine, school, training, homework...But what have I done?" He grasps his water bottle, draining it between his dry lips. The guy makes his way to his feet, still contemplating and talking with himself. "I feel so much stronger, but it still isn't enough. I need to become someone...I need something more...I need to stop wasting my time! To hell with Biggs, I'll become feared once again!!!"
Alkaiser's rage pours over from his reflection, and he tears into the punching bag. His blows rain faster and more powerful than ever before, each one fueled with frustrated adrenaline. He fiercely rolls to the side, simulating a true fight situation in which he would need to dodge and attack at the same time. The bag rocks with a snap kick. It wiggles a little more with a fierce hook. A roundhouse makes it jump. "I'll be great!!!" With a final powerful straight punch, the bag rips itself right off of it's hook, no longer standing tall above the determined warrior. It falls in a puff of sand, pouring out of the tears. "Heh, you're the first of many..." Steve remarks triumphantly. His body soon catches up with him, however, and in an urk of pain he falls to the floor.
Staring at the ceiling and ignoring the fact that all of his muscles have shut down, Alkaiser's mind rushes with a new agenda, sure to bring this ghost back to life.
