Chapter 89: Chapter 89
Chapter 89 Unsuccessful Night
The night was a clear one. The silver light of the slivered moon touched the outline of buildings, bathing it in a way that made the sleeping city seem like it was cloaked in a glittering robe.
The night was a perfect one.
A perfect one that would erupt in violence. Violence that falls on deaf ears of the officials of the city.
But that's what Colton thrived on - silence. He didn't want or need, for that matter, attention drawn to him, because what he was about to do would cause problems if the world turned their eyes on the forgotten and neglected.
So nestled in the life that goes unseen by many he shall stay, and nestled in the life that goes unseen by many shall he leave.
Because tonight would mark a new beginning for his future. Where violence ends does opportunity meet, and Colton was more than ready to leave his past behind.
Fingers of fear gripped his heart, because for once in his life, he feared death. Death was a funny thing, he had always looked at it like an escape from the terrors life brings, he saw it as his only true savior and the only cure to the darkest parts of his mind.
He has tried many times to find death before his time, but his attempts were futile.
But at this moment, he feared death. He feared death because for once, he wanted to live. He wanted to live because he had something - no, someone to live for. He had the motivation he needed to finally seek out a life free from crime, free from the effects his past caused.
His nervousness ate at him, his fists balled up to his sides as he walked trembled, but he was quick to gain his composure. He knew it would be best to not let his emotions take over, emotions blocked his focus and when focus was blocked, an unsuccessful fight would occur.
And an unsuccessful fight could mean his death.
His gang called him his family, yet they were ruthless to him. They said they cared for him, yet they beat him and degraded him. They said they were only looking out for him, yet they forced him to murder at a young age.
His gang rescued him, but they also ruined him.
When he had told them that he planned to leave the gang, the gang members treated him worse than the dirt on the bottom of their shoes. They stripped him of the little money he had and berated him. Their words were like poison to his ears and mind, and the way they spoke made Colton realize that they were no different than his own parents who had betrayed him.
He shook with fear but also anger. Deep, unsated anger that made him want to burn the world to ashes. Colton had always let anger control his life - perhaps that's why he joined the gang. The gang was a violent place to be, and where violence thrives, anger lives.
For him, it was a way to express his anger. Instead of dealing with it healthily, he chose to live in a place that demanded violence.
At the root of his anger lies the need for vengeance. Vengeance against his parents, and all of those who wronged him and took part in breaking him. He hadn't learned how to let go of his anger properly, and his idea of a family have been distorted long ago.
But now he was taking a step forwards into finally making things in his life right. He had a lot of blood on his hands, and he didn't quite know how to handle that heavy, unsettling truth. Even when he does leave the gang, the things in his past won't easily be wiped away.
They will linger on in his mind forever.
Taking a breath of cold air, he calmed down as he rounded the final corner to his destination. Already, he could hear the low murmurs of the men who he once called family in the distance.
And nobody said a word when he arrived. Their hooded faces were downcast and glances were stolen from him as he passed by.
The rules of the fight were simple: Fight or die.
If he wins the fight, he would be proven worthy in the gang's eyes and be able to leave peacefully. If he were to lose the fight, he would be shot on sight and his body would be left to be forgotten with the wind.
His opponent would be the strongest of the men in the gang, and there would be three rounds. If neither of the men have fallen by the third round, then they would continue fighting until one of them is dead.
He pushed through the men and found himself standing in the middle of the circle. There was many members, maybe around forty or so to watch the fight take place. Their eyes were lustful for blood, and they were eager to watch death occur before them.
Colton tore off the hoodie he was clothed in, exposing himself in a loose fitting white tank top. His scarred and tattooed arms were exposed to the world, but he wasn't the only one with scars like his.
Many of the men had similar ones, resembling that of cigarette burns, knife wounds, and bullet scars that told of an abusive childhood and a dark world not many would have the courage to live through.
Maybe him and his gang members weren't so different, after all.
He beckoned the first fighter towards him with a motion of his hand. He knew who he would be fighting long before he was informed.
A tall, olive skinned man stepped forwards. He had shoulder length black hair and his eyes were wild and crazed. A hard life of drugs and alcohol abuse had ruined the man before him, and though he had a stagger in his step, he was built like a bull.
His arms were ripped with muscle, and tattoos crawled up the length of his arms and shoulders. He was the epitome of danger, and Colton knew that this fight wouldn't be an easy one.
Nobody said a word as they watched their leader fight for his freedom before their eyes. Truth was, a few gang members wished to be free from the gang, too, but they had nowhere to go, nowhere to run to if they were to do so.
After all, who would hire men with criminal pasts? Who would hire people who were once dangerous, elusive beings? Nobody would be willing to put that kind of a risk on their business, on their employees, on their lives.
For many of the men gathered around the fighting ring, this kind of life is the only one they have ever known, so their outlook on life is a bleak one.
Colton stepped forwards, legs steady and arms ready to fight. His face was a mask of no emotion, and he wore it well.
The composure he held was impressive, especially in a situation such as this. But the fight hadn't started yet, for this was only the beginning.
The streets were slathered in all shades of grey. Velvety shadows were thrown across the dark areas where the light did not touch, and the barren streets gave way to abandoned, forgotten buildings that were strewn about the town.
In the midst of the gloomy darkness stood the stars. Stars that rose high and wept as they looked down on humanity below. They tried to snuff out the darkness with their twinkling light, but despite their efforts, darkness seemed to take over the land like a stealthy predator.
The air was heavy and thick with truth. The truth was indeed a hard one to come face to face with, because that truth promised a certain death. It was as if Death himself loomed about in the shadows, waiting for his own time to strike. Waiting for the condemned to draw his last breath, waiting for the final drum of the heart.
Colton stood, surveying his prey with brazen in his stance and confidence in his eyes. His breath was steady and even, it was as if a cloak of composure was wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Desperation ran through his veins and his motives were quite clear - he chased freedom.
He was the first to make a bold move against his opponent. He was swift and quick, his accuracy had been crafted from years of experience and violence. Fighting well he knew how to do, and subduing others quickly was something he knew how to do. Neither of which he was particularly proud of, but in a world that thrives on survival, he knew no other way.
A fist to the nose would suffice, followed by a foot to both knee caps, which sent his opponent flying to the cold, hard concrete with an audible crack when skull met ground.
Colton didn't even have a time to breathe when the man was back on his feet, quick as a whip and launching himself at Colton. He dodged, quickly backing up and nearly tripping on his own feet. The man raised his fist against Colton, but he quickly sidestepped the move, grabbed his wrist and stepped behind him. Colton sunk his foot into the back of his knees and once again, brought his opponent down to the ground.
Just as he was to quickly subdue his victim, the man rolled out of the way before he could act again. Catching Colton by surprise, the man launched his foot out, successfully tripping him.
Though Colton stumbled, he didn't fall, rather, he stayed upright. But in that small moment of weakness, the man attacked. He slammed into Colton's back with full force, sending him to the ground roughly. He gasped for air on the ground, the wind had been knocked out of him and it felt as if all his ribs had been broken.
In agonizing pain, he began to crawl away from his attacker, only to be ripped from his position on the ground and placed on his knees.
Colton was struck across the face ruthlessly, his head whipped to the side with a crack. The fist flew into the other side of his face, bruising the skin and fracturing bone. He saw stars, his vision was fading, and as the man struck him again, he was suddenly thrown into a flashback.
He could see his mother beating him across the face, scolding him with expletives as she did so. He felt the fear, the pain, the humiliation, the trauma all over again, and that did not sit well with him. He could hear his own cries, his own sorrow as his father did the same to him with much more force. His cries fell on deaf ears, but this time, they wouldn't. Snapping out of his stupor, he lunged at his opponent with vigor and violent intentions.
The men gathered around watched with wide eyes as the fight became more intense. Sweat trickled down both the men's faces and everyone could see the determination in Colton's eyes.
It appeared everyone knew who would win the fight, they could see the rage, the sudden turn in Colton's emotions that drove him like a beast that was sent out to kill.
The man noticed this all too late - he had awakened the devil inside of Colton. Stepping back, he tried to reaffirm his stance but Colton came in all too quick. In an instant, they both were on the ground, this time, though, Colton pinned the man tightly under him, grasping his throat in a hold so tight it seemed the man's eyes were going to burst.
His breath was heavy and tendrils of his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. His shirt was soaked just as equally, and his heart was loud in his ears.
His focus was suddenly shattered when he caught sight of a flash of female standing amongst the crowd of men. His eyes locked with familiar ones, ones that he knew all too well.
Lily stood, shielded in a dark hoodie, her eyes were frozen on his, her lips moved but he heard no words, everything was simply a blur to him. Her face was frantic, and he shook his head and focused on what she was saying.
"Colton, look out, he has a gun!"
He snapped his gaze to the man he was choking, but it was too late.
The hard, cold feeling of the pistol against his ribs was brief, because not even a second later, the trigger was pulled.
The force of the blast sent Colton falling backwards off of the man from under him. He clutched at his chest in agony and utter shock. He met Lily's eyes one last time, before falling onto his back, gasping for air.
He couldn't breathe. Each breath was as if he was sucking large gulps of air from a clogged up straw, and he was terrified. Lily was quickly at his side as the crowd scattered, leaving him there to die.
A pang of betrayal he momentarily felt in his heart, but it was quickly washed away when he felt Lily's warm hand encased in his. She moved so that she cradled his upper body against her, stroking the sweaty hair from his face and clinging onto him like a lost lover.
"Please, hold on for me, Colton. Please, please, please." He could hear the way Lily was sobbing, sobbing for him.
She cared. She cared enough about him to wail over his dying body. Heat flooded his heart at the thought of being cared for, because nobody had ever done so.
She had told him many times that she cared for him, but words were just that - words. To see the words put into action was a whole new meaning, a meaning that he finally believed.
He was disappointed that love would crawl into his life much too late, because for once, he was upset that he had lost the game of life.
And he was certainly shocked to find that he was going to die on the very streets he wished to flee from.