Post by Jason Phoenix on Feb 5, 2011 18:33:51 GMT -5
Darkness. Stillness.
Click. Suddenly a white hot flame erupts from the hands of the standing Luke Haven. The bright glow given off by the flare lights up the building. Luke Haven stands off to the right of this old run down church. The stained glass window panes are gone and broken. The tattered wooden pews are raw from time. At the head of the church stands a ragged and graffiti covered statue of the Virgin Mary holding a now headless infant Jesus. But Luke Haven is interested in none of this. His focus lies on a small table covered in old melted votive candles. The light flickers on the metal stand.
Dark.
“Here is your winner! Luke Haven!” Luke’s words echo sarcastically throughout the large cavernous building. “God I’m sick of hearing that. Win win win; it seems like that’s all that happens here. I win, or better yet, everyone else loses. I’ve had six matches now, and have only lost one.”
Click.
“Josh Eagles.” Luke skips over the first candle. “Kid Flanagan.” Luke lights the second in the row. “Obscene.” Lighting the next in line. “Flap Flanagan. Suart Cage. Jerome. Mikey Dega. Ogre Lambart.” Luke lights a candle for each name; all but the first. “They say you are supposed to light these things for the ones you’ve lost. But why would I want to remember my losses? Instead, I light my victories; engulf them in the flame I create. There is only one blemish on this record.” Luke looks at the first unlit candle. “Josh Eagles. The man that took me down. The man that extinguished my flame. The man, that I get a second chance at.” Luke turns and slowly walks to one of the old wooden pews and takes a seat, the candles still burning. “People wish for second chances all the time, but this is different. This is my shot at redemption. Sure I’ve beaten all of those lower rank guys, but Josh, he’s the big leagues.”
Luke’s hand slips into his pocket where he finds his old tarnished zippo.
Click.
“Isn’t it funny how a small metal box can hold all of the power in the world? The power of life,” a small grin emerges on the face of Luke, “and destruction. Fire is alive; it breaths, it feeds, it lives. Most people fear fire, fear its destructive abilities. But me, I fear them. People are what scare me. Lying, cheating, stealing, dishonest, awful, backstabbing…leaving.” Luke takes a small breath after this last word, remembering his past. “Human kind is what is wrong with this world. I am alone. It’s just me and this old lighter. A boy with the power of the world in the palm of his hands.” Luke suddenly turns around, standing quickly. “Who’s there!” Luke stands silently for a moment, breathing heavier, but nothing comes. He slowly sits back down. “I hold all the power, yet am still frightened by nothing. I just don’t know who I can trust anymore. I definitely can’t trust that Sterling guy. He wants to take me out, wants me to leave Pride, I just know it. Otherwise he wouldn’t be throwing all of his ‘stronger competitors’ at me. He’s trying to scare me away. He doesn’t want to deal with me directly, so first he sent his minions. But he realized that that wasn’t going to work, not on me. Then he sent that Ogre Lambart guy, what a joke; he was supposed to be my tougher competition, but I took him down like all the rest. And now he’s sending one of the best to put me in my place. King Sterling sends Prince Eagles to take out the Jester. But I’ll show his highness that I am not to be messed with. He can’t control me like his puppet, his fool to dance for him when he says dance. And now they have ‘The Knighting’ coming up. It sounds like the kings want their princes to fight it out to see who is the top of the top, the cream of the crop. But what would they do if a peasant won? What would they do, if the kings’ humble fool were to gain knighthood? This Jester will be a Knight.”
Luke slowly rises and walks over to the metal alter covered in candles. He grins as he pulls his zippo out of his pocket, ignites it, and illuminates the candle of Josh Eagles.
Click. Suddenly a white hot flame erupts from the hands of the standing Luke Haven. The bright glow given off by the flare lights up the building. Luke Haven stands off to the right of this old run down church. The stained glass window panes are gone and broken. The tattered wooden pews are raw from time. At the head of the church stands a ragged and graffiti covered statue of the Virgin Mary holding a now headless infant Jesus. But Luke Haven is interested in none of this. His focus lies on a small table covered in old melted votive candles. The light flickers on the metal stand.
Dark.
“Here is your winner! Luke Haven!” Luke’s words echo sarcastically throughout the large cavernous building. “God I’m sick of hearing that. Win win win; it seems like that’s all that happens here. I win, or better yet, everyone else loses. I’ve had six matches now, and have only lost one.”
Click.
“Josh Eagles.” Luke skips over the first candle. “Kid Flanagan.” Luke lights the second in the row. “Obscene.” Lighting the next in line. “Flap Flanagan. Suart Cage. Jerome. Mikey Dega. Ogre Lambart.” Luke lights a candle for each name; all but the first. “They say you are supposed to light these things for the ones you’ve lost. But why would I want to remember my losses? Instead, I light my victories; engulf them in the flame I create. There is only one blemish on this record.” Luke looks at the first unlit candle. “Josh Eagles. The man that took me down. The man that extinguished my flame. The man, that I get a second chance at.” Luke turns and slowly walks to one of the old wooden pews and takes a seat, the candles still burning. “People wish for second chances all the time, but this is different. This is my shot at redemption. Sure I’ve beaten all of those lower rank guys, but Josh, he’s the big leagues.”
Luke’s hand slips into his pocket where he finds his old tarnished zippo.
Click.
“Isn’t it funny how a small metal box can hold all of the power in the world? The power of life,” a small grin emerges on the face of Luke, “and destruction. Fire is alive; it breaths, it feeds, it lives. Most people fear fire, fear its destructive abilities. But me, I fear them. People are what scare me. Lying, cheating, stealing, dishonest, awful, backstabbing…leaving.” Luke takes a small breath after this last word, remembering his past. “Human kind is what is wrong with this world. I am alone. It’s just me and this old lighter. A boy with the power of the world in the palm of his hands.” Luke suddenly turns around, standing quickly. “Who’s there!” Luke stands silently for a moment, breathing heavier, but nothing comes. He slowly sits back down. “I hold all the power, yet am still frightened by nothing. I just don’t know who I can trust anymore. I definitely can’t trust that Sterling guy. He wants to take me out, wants me to leave Pride, I just know it. Otherwise he wouldn’t be throwing all of his ‘stronger competitors’ at me. He’s trying to scare me away. He doesn’t want to deal with me directly, so first he sent his minions. But he realized that that wasn’t going to work, not on me. Then he sent that Ogre Lambart guy, what a joke; he was supposed to be my tougher competition, but I took him down like all the rest. And now he’s sending one of the best to put me in my place. King Sterling sends Prince Eagles to take out the Jester. But I’ll show his highness that I am not to be messed with. He can’t control me like his puppet, his fool to dance for him when he says dance. And now they have ‘The Knighting’ coming up. It sounds like the kings want their princes to fight it out to see who is the top of the top, the cream of the crop. But what would they do if a peasant won? What would they do, if the kings’ humble fool were to gain knighthood? This Jester will be a Knight.”
Luke slowly rises and walks over to the metal alter covered in candles. He grins as he pulls his zippo out of his pocket, ignites it, and illuminates the candle of Josh Eagles.