A symphony of cries arose rose from the darkness, echoing from a dense cover of dancing sycamores. The grim cries rang from beneath, casting shade and obscuring what was left of the lights. From above, a stream of moonlight trickled down over a silhouette, draped in a tantalizing gold twinkle. As it stalked from the center of the heart, ready for another execution of the condemned, the screeching cries of the forest climaxed before coming to an abrupt pause.
Suddenly, an ominous silence descended down over the forest, starting with the heart, leaving the sycamore under a deafening cloak of nothing but the shadow’s sinister laugh.
The bronzed doors of an opulent car swung out into the darkness of a deserted lot. A faint gleam of light swelled down from a menacing pair of clouded-black eyes, veiled in a cryptic twinkle, to a broad set of shoulders swept back with golden hair. Before the door shut, he watched as the moonlight elegantly danced into his car and across a sealed metal bottle. Hypnotized by its alluring glimmer, he reached for the bottle and poured it down his throat until his thirst was quenched with each satiating sip.
Carefully tucking the bottle back in, he froze as his phone suddenly lit up into a clamoring outburst, collapsing his ring finger into a series of tremors. With a gust of wind, a devastated voice called out to him.
“David-”.
The clanging tones of her vulnerable voice pierced into his ears like a dagger, shattering his face into a wince as his teeth began to grind uncontrollably back and forth. Ensnared in a trance, he hurled his phone into the back of his car before bashing the door closed.
Caught in a fury of short breaths, David stared down as the tremor of his ring finger disappeared into a slow pause. As the moonlight dripped over his hands, it twinkled over white hand-wrap that cradled up from his wrists to his arms. Facing forward, into the sea of sycamore, he pulled out a pair of faded grappling gloves. Adorned in a white tracksuit, he took a few steps away from his car and towards a familiar dark trail leading deep into the woods. David, with his fists clenched tightly, charged down the trail with his eyes narrowed and his shoulders empty. Under the somber foliage of the trees, a shadow projected itself onto the trail, only but a few paces behind, while thousands of glowing red eyes peered from the tree’s cover and stalked from behind. The woods remained entrenched in silence as nothing but the patter of his lashing strides echoing along the sycamore’s limbs filled the night sky. From behind, the creatures silently watched, cradling their legs around the sycamore while their vibrant eyes followed the shadow looming closer behind him.
Taking deep breaths, he kept his eyes locked down the trail while the moonlight dripped down from branch to branch, before seeping down onto the back of his jacket, illuminating emblazoned silver sprawled down his spine reading “David ‘The King’ Jones”. With his next step forward, the ephemeral lights faded away leaving his jacket again obscured as his moniker first disappeared before the rest of his name. Countering, David accelerated forward, failing to have yet sensed a sliver of pain or fatigue.
Compensating for the silence of the forest, David felt his ears begin to ring and throb uncontrollably, crescendoing from a distant hum to a hissing clank bludgeoning at his skull. Whenever the moon took to the sky, he was accustomed to hearing the mournful cries of the cicadas or the lulling crunch of their heads as he stepped over one adrift on the trail. Drawing his attention away from the disorienting silence, he sprinted faster as his hands thew a few combinations into the air: jab, hook, uppercut; jab, cross, slip; jab, back fist, elbow strike.
Bewitched by the picture-perfect technique and precision, the scarlet eyes of the creatures continued to carefully follow along with the hunting shadow.
His wrapped fists exploded into the wind, every strike stirring up fury while the twinkle in his eyes lit up. Drawing a few gasps for air, he let his fists fly out faster: shooting haymaker after elbow strike after haymaker after elbow strike after haymaker. Regardless of whatever he threw, however, his shoulders felt too light. As his mind gradually began to wander away, he watched the winds drift leaves through the desolate sky.
“David-”
Exploding into the sky, he thrust his knee forward with enough force to decapitate while his consciousness regressed into a shrieking tantrum.
“David-”
With every strike, his ringing ears screamed the name sending a violent shudder down his spine. Withering away in the devoid forest, he sprinted forward, as every sycamore tree he passed gorged away more light from the sky. Even the moon had obscured itself for the moment, leaving David alone with David. Submitting to his mind, he tapped out as the form and technique in his strikes broke down into chaos. Submitting to his mind, he tapped out, as the form and technique in his strikes broke down into chaos.
The thousands of glowing eyes remained locked ahead from behind the trees, mesmerized, as the shadow continued relentlessly down the trail, maintaining it’s flawless form.
“David-”
Collapsing under the pressure, he slowed his pace into a shaky jog, this time striking at his own chin, desperate to regain the helms of his consciousness and not hear that appalling name any longer. The darkness of the trail began to overwhelm, spiraling in front of him; he watched as the trees danced in place with their contorted limbs twitching in the sky. The dirt of the trail flew up, cloaking the air around him in a thick veil of dust as he kicked harder with his strides against the ground: amplifying the echo of his steps and temporarily tranquilizing his consciousness.
With his chin lit up an engorged maroon from the strikes, and his knees shooting up with searing pain, he grit his teeth and burst out into another charging sprint. His eyes once again narrowed fiercely down the trail, aware that it still had much more to reveal of itself to him. If he yearned to satisfy his shoulders once again, he only needed to survive through these last few miles of sycamore.
“David-”
Behind the dense cover of the trees, something finally collapsed the fragile silence. David felt his chest begin to pump as his eyes tore itself off of the trail and into the dense underbrush of the woods. Within a second, he froze in place and began to reach for his jacket while listening carefully; his eyes carefully tracking the fading husk of the trees. From behind a few sickly blades of grass, the silhouette of a beast conjured itself behind the cover of a lush bush. Caught in the slender glow of the beast’s ivory eyes, he reached into his jacket and drew a silver hand pistol, gluttoned with twelve bullets, between him and death’s fangs. With the barrel locked forward and his finger lulled against the trigger, his knuckles shuddered and bruised purple with every echoing snap of the dead branches as the beast’s eyes moved closer towards him. He had grown accustomed to carrying while in the woods in the case of famished black bears but never before had he aimed at his barrel at something he could not yet discern. As the beast continued to stalk forward, dropping its silhouetted veil, it stepped into the scarce lights.
Dropping the barrel down, David stepped towards its entrancing stare as it stepped onto the trail. The lights crawled over clusters of white against a solid backdrop of black making up a plush blanket of fur. With long wisps of whiskers on each side of a tiny pink nose pointed up towards two pointed ears stemming out of its emaciated head, David watched as the cat stepped towards him with a pair of crimson eyes speared between its fangs. Dropping to his knees, he reached out as the cat stopped a few paces in front of him, staring into his clouded eyes. Opening its mouth, it dropped it’s prey in front of him and took a step back. Earnestly reaching out to stroke it’s head, as his sleeves pulled back, the cat let out a ghastly hiss, bearing it’s scarlet stained fangs at him and leaped back behind the cover of the sycamore.
As he followed the silhouette of the cat with his eyes, he pulled his sleeves back up as the faint moonlight crawled along his bare wrists, revealing twenty-six tallies scarred an engorged red on his left arm, and zero on his right. Once the glow of ivory vanished behind the underbrush, David stood back up, staring down towards the crimson eyes of the cicada. With it’s contorted wings twitched back and forth and it’s slender legs kicking hopelessly at the sky, it watched as the darkness began to envelop it. David charged back down the trail, his ears reverberating a low rumble, after leaving a scarlet stain on the trail and a mangled head pulverized against the edge of his shoe. The twinkle in his eye, flared up.
Tucked behind their sanctuary, the cicadas continued on with their silence: freely moving about and disregarding what was beyond their cover after the disappearance of the looming shadow. The sharp lights in his eyes burned another shade brighter
“David-”
The wind picked up from a piercing howl into a roar. While exploding into a few more combinations, a fresh sense of vigor coursed through him after he drew first blood. Reaching its climax, the trail broadened as the sycamores receded back revealing an empty plain at the heart of the forest. With the pain cloaked under the dead of night, he quickly approached as a sudden gorge opened up in his stomach. A faint silhouette suddenly fell along the corner of his eyes, standing deadset in the middle of the heart. Veiled in an ambiance of vicious pride, he watched as the silhouette locked its glare onto him. As his heart trembled, a tantalizing flicker of gold lit up under the darkness from the shadow’s shoulder. With his fists balled tight, David slowed his pace down to creep as the shadowed figure reached its arms out. Through the crisp air, piercing laughter shot through.
“The champ is here!”
Burst into a mocking laugh, the silhouette cried out to him in a deep rumbling voice as he stopped at the entrance of the deepest part of the woods. With his tongue-tied, he felt his blood slowly simmer into a boil. Staring down the shadow, he called out with a slight quiver in his voice.
“What are you doing here, David”.
David knew the voice and what was behind the silhouette well. They shared the same namesake, but that was it. Staring into the enticing glimmer of what was wrapped around the figure’s shoulder, he felt his nails dig into his gloves.
“I could ask you the same thing, King. You are already back training? After, I embarrassed you in front of the world and separated you from your consciousness.”
With the moon obscured and the surrounding trees casting shade: his eyes could only discern a black tracksuit, golden championship combat sports belt around his shoulders, and a wicked smile patched onto his face.
“I want my belt back, David. I’m the greatest of all time in this sport and everyone knows it”.
The shadow let out a bellowing cackle that echoed along with the harsh winds.
“You can be the greatest of all time. You can be undefeated: 26-0. You can be the youngest champion of this sport known for finishing legends. However, that doesn’t change that I executed you and took your title. You will never beat me, King, and you will never have this title down your shoulders”.
Every word out of his beaming lips whipped David up into a deeper fury. He wanted nothing more than to choke him unconscious. With his teeth grinding, he trembled out a few more words from his tongue.
“That only happened once and it was because I made a mistake... That title is still mine, and I’m still the best”.
The shadow's eyes remained masked under the dark, as it took a couple steps back towards the trees, leaving them at opposite ends within the heart of the woods. Despite their growing distance, his cryptic smirk and the title’s glitter remained clenched in David’s eyes.
“If you really want to go to sleep again, King, we can fight right here. Same rules as the octagon, except no referee and the fight ends with a finish. I want nothing more than to taste your blood off of my gloves while staring into your lifeless eyes. Speaking of the condemned, you know, we are a lot more similar than you think, King.”
Caught in another fit of laughter, the shadow tore the belt off of its shoulder and hurled it at the ground. The echo of the impact sent a potent shudder down David’s spine. While both unzipping their jackets, David waited as his tongue managed to stitch together a few more words.
“I’m nothing like you and I’ll prove that by taking your life right here, David”.
The murky clouds began to recede back as the light of the moon poured down from the trees. The shadow howled once again in mockery.
“Don’t talk to me about executions, King. You hide behind your long reach and jab and kick your opponents until they quit. I have snapped necks, caved-in skulls, and ruptured organs to get to you. Last time, I left you struggling in and out of consciousness for the whole world to see, today, I’ll leave you mutilated while the cicadas watch”.
With the wind baring its fangs at his bare chest, David slipped out of his jacket as the light once again fell over his wrists, illuminating his left a shade brighter. He called out to David’s silhouette one last time.
“I’m prepared to die for that belt, David”.
With their eyes splayed and locked ahead, the cicadas watched silently, ready for the executioner's carnage .
“Be prepared to do that; the hangman is at the gallows”.
With the clouds fully parted back, a sliver of moonlight drifted into the heart, projecting a circle of faint light between them in the center. Getting into his bladed stance: he raised his fisted hands and leaped lightly up and down on the balls of his feet. Waiting under the deafening silence, he kept his stance dynamic while staring his narrowed eyes at David’s silhouette while his eyes remained obscured in darkness. Unphased, he blocked everything out but the one soul who had stolen everything he had ever worked for. Possessed by strife, the twinkle in his eyes began to overwhelm, as he saw nothing but carnage.
From behind their sycamore cover, the cicadas burst out into a symphony of cries.
Marching towards the light, they met in the heart, both refusing to take a step back from each other. Extending his left arm, The King whipped it back and forth like a hooded cobra in order to get behind his long reach and maintain pressure. They both fought in the same stance and were roughly identical in their body characteristics, yet The King was confident he could get the shadow to back up first. Throwing a couple of stiff jabs, he watched as the shadow evaded effortlessly with the swift shift of his neck. Dropping his hands for a moment, The King whipped his right leg out into a lash against the figure’s waist. As if nothing happened, the shadow charged forward and drove its fist like a gunshot down his chin. Forced to take a few steps back and reestablish his distance, David stepped back staring down his opponent’s masked face.
A trickle of blood poured down his nose as he watched the masked David march him down. Countering, The King speared a stiff kick into the silhouette's stomach and followed up with a brutal elbow strike across his jaw. Fighting in close range, The King missed a barrage of strikes while the other landed a series of crosses across his face. Marked up in blood and bruises, David charged down the center to the shadow’s legs in an attempt to force him down to the ground. Underestimating his footwork, the figure quickly evaded his double-leg attempt and countered by bashing his knee against The King’s nose. Stumbling back with his nose pouring blood and tears flooding up in his eye, The King watched as the figure etched a smile across its face and charged in with his own attempt at a takedown. Grabbing a hold of his waist and the side of his leg, the silhouette swatted down its prey, like a bear, and pounced quickly on top, preventing David from setting up his guard from the bottom.
As the King stared up, unable to look into the executioner's obscured eyes, he watched as the silhouette smothered him from top position, before bringing his elbow above his face like the blade of a guillotine. Pouring down with all of his weight, the silhouette rained down upon him a shower of slicing elbows down his eye socket and his jaw, covering him in a veil of blood. Pouring all of his strength into an opportunity to explode and scramble up to his feet, he lost faith with every pouring strike while listening to the cicada’s melancholy cries.
As the shadow grew tired of playing with its food, it wrapped its arms around The King’s neck, cinching in a guillotine choke after the condemned was read a final prayer. Falling into The King’s trap, he gave him just enough leverage to torque out of guard and explode back to his feet. Spitting out blood, The King looked down at the shadow with a menacing vengeance as his eyes began to dance with a sadistic twinkle. Allowing his opponent to get back up while the blood pooled down his own face, The King charged forward into the center and exploded into the air driving his knee forward as he caught his namesake with a bludgeoning knee that lashed his head back. As he landed back on the balls of his feet, the silhouette stumbled backwards while wobbling on unstable legs as The King marched him down. Throwing all of the power he could muster up, he lashed out one final kick crashing his shin into the shadow’s head.
His namesake collapsed down with a wrenched jaw as David pounced into his opponent's guard and let out a tortured scream while dropping elbows down from the heavens and butchering his face. With blood and primal tears flooding down from his eyes, David continued to gorge his opponent’s darkened face open. Knowing his opponent was defenseless, he continued to carve away until the warm blood trickled down the scars of his wrist. Letting out a purging gasp of air, he listened to the mourning cries of the cicadas while staring down the lips of his namesake, still contorted into an eerie grin. Stumbling off of his limp body, The King staggered forward while coughing up blood onto his chest.
With glimpses of golden glimmers flying into his eye, he moved towards the teasing lights with his eyes dilated, and his body entranced. Reaching down, he dusted off the golden title belt before triumphantly placing it onto his left shoulder. Finally feeling whole again, he felt a pack of shivers contort his face into a wince as he wiped the blood off his face with his jacket, staining it red.
The moon receded once again behind the clouds as it’s light dusted off of the heart. Continuing to cough up dribbles of blood, he felt his knuckles begin to throb uncontrollably as he threw off his gloves. With his wraps smeared scarlet, he began unwrapping his right hand while letting his scars bleed out. Letting the sullied threads fly away with the winds, he watched as they drifted off into the darkness. Moving on to his right, a shiver ran through him after a grating laugh sunk into his ears.
“Is that it, King? This isn’t finished yet. If you want me gone, kill me right here”.
Unwrapping his right, he felt every word of his hoarse voice dig into his skull. Choking up more blood, he let out another howl before continuing to taunt.
“I left you seizing in and out of consciousness, and the most you can do is leave me with a couple scars? Face it, you will never beat me, David. You will never avenge the way I put you to sleep in front of your fans and Elisha. The horror in her sweet eyes as I put you down was my favorite. Although, you don’t care too much about her anyway”.
With his ring finger twitching uncontrollably behind his wraps, he winced in pain as David’s words shook him down to his core. Walking past what was left of his pooling body, his eyes remained obscured as David poured out all the strength he could to disregard the smile etched across his mangled lips.
“Did I hit a sore spot, King? You hate her, don’t you? You look into her innocent ivory eyes and crucify yourself with the thoughts of who you once were and who you want to be”.
As his words festered in David’s head, and having lost control of his ring finger, he struggled to walk forward.
“If you want me gone, finish me right here, King. Look me in the eyes while you strangle away my last breath; cave my face into its skull; shatter my neck in your arms- finish the fight, David, if you want your title”.
Crippled by his words, every muscle in his body but his arms tensed up and froze. As his namesake’s pooling blood began to drown the lush blades of grass, he reached into his jacket while his eyes began to narrow in fury.
“You were right earlier, King. You and I are nothing alike. You’re embarrassingly weak, therefore, you will never beat me”.
With his legs planted stiff to the ground and his back turned to David’s body, his lips burst out into its own vicious laughter while stroking his title belt. Spitting out some blood, he waited for his laughter to die down before his tongue stitched together a cryptic whisper.
“The hangman is at the gallows”
Unsheathing the hand pistol from his jacket, he reached behind with his wrapped hand and pulled the trigger, emptying eleven bullets into David’s skull. As the wraps unraveled with the recoil, he again let the winds carry them away before staring down at his trembling ring finger. Sparkling under the faint lights, David ripped a smooth golden ring from his finger and tossed it back at the corpse.
As another wave of triumph coursed through him, he looked down upon his left wrist and sunk his ring finger’s nail down into his flesh. Eliciting more blood, he drew another scarlet tally. Reveling in the beauty of his work, he let out a coy smile while watching his twenty-seventh scar spit out blood, while his right arm remained scarred with zero. David wiped away the blood with his stained jacket before throwing it into the distance and cloaking himself in the corpse’s black jacket. Leaving the heart of the woods, David whipped up into another jog.
As a fresh stream of blood poured out over the grass, the cicadas mourned louder while the masked David eyes rolled back with a wretched smile ever speared on.
Crying out under the night sky, thousands of cicadas behind their guard continued to sing with mournful eyes on the corpse, and the other on the shadow as it once again appeared on the trail.
With his shoulder feeling full and satisfied, he finally stumbled out of the woods and off of the trail. Drenched in sweat while every joint in his legs ached out in pain, David suddenly fell into the possession of an immense thirst. With his tongue run dry, he staggered over to his car and unlocked the doors while his head began to spin.
Before the door could even finish swinging open, he pounced in and clutched the metal bottle in between his arms before flushing it down his tongue. Wincing his eyes closed, David purged the bottle dry with his throat as his body gave back into him. As he took a couple gasps of air, he tucked the title belt in his car's passenger seat and got out. All of a sudden, he picked up on a low and unyielding signal echoing somewhere from his car. Looking around, he found his phone, still on and spewing out feedback. With his ring finger twitching again, he closed the door of his vehicle and gathered his phone, threatening it to behave this time, and dialed in a series of numbers.
Before the other end could pick up. He turned his face away from the moonlight, letting the darkness obscure his face for a moment as he fastened the most tender smile he could fabricate onto his face
“Jones! Is that you?”
David, let out a charming laugh as the man’s kind voice echoed along the interior of his car.
“Yes, sorry I’m late Samuel. I just ran into a black bear while jogging. It’s fine though, I’m David Jones. What’s a bear or a lion to me anyway”?
Samuel roared in laughter as David dropped his smile for a moment as the cicada’s cries began to slowly pierce his car.
“Don’t worry about it, Jones. I’m a huge fan in case you didn’t already know. Been a fan ever since you made your debut at twenty and knocked out that one heavyweight nearly double your size”.
With his tongue cocked back, David began to craft his response before Samuel finished.
“Yes, of course, sir. Thank you so much for your continued support. I have always been blessed to have the most gracious fans”.
Pleased with his response, David loaded a few more down his tongue.
“No problem Jones. Ready to go live?”
Sitting in his car under the cover of the cicadas, David stroked his belt in anticipation while his tongue remained cocked back and ready to strike.
“3...2...1: Welcome back Ladies and Gentlemen to Samuel’s MMA Show, on the line here we have the greatest of all time, undefeated 26-0, and former undisputed light heavyweight and youngest champion of the world: David Jones. Despite being relatively silent after losing his belt, the champ has agreed to give us some time and explain how he has handled this set back. David how are you doing today?”
Fabricating the perfect voice, he let his tongue strike.
“I’m doing well David, thank you so much for having me on.”
Disregarding the cicadas for a moment, he stared into the glow of his phone while the moonlight remained obscured.
“Thank you, Jones. How has your life been after losing your belt”?
Continuing to stroke the ends of his shoulders, David waited patiently as his lips loaded up with the perfect answers.
“In all honesty, the title doesn’t mean anything to me, sir. It’s just a belt made of fake gold anyway. What’s important for me now is evolving as an individual. I have been training twice as hard, praying twice as hard, and doing everything I can to leave the old David behind. I even married my fiance of eleven years, Elisha, the most precious person to me alive. All of that means more to me than a belt I’ll win back anyway in front of everyone”.
With a quick twitch in his ring finger, David felt his voice trail away towards the end as it was drowned out by the crescendo in the cicada’s symphony.
“What do you have to say to your opponents and critics who have called into question your status as the greatest of all time”.
Having to grit his teeth while maintaining his smile, he attempted to block out the thundering cries of the cicadas in order to think clearly.
“Honestly, sir, I kneel down and I humbly accept their criticism, even from my past and future opponents. I know I’m not perfect and I might not be the greatest of all time or undefeated champion in everyone’s eyes. With that said, credentials don’t lie, sir. And I undoubtedly have the most impressive resumé in that octagon. Martial Arts experts like Joe Rogan have labeled me the most technical fighter of all time. You will never catch me throwing wild elbows and flying knees. I throw perfect jabs and leg kicks. I don’t throw and hope, I aim and fire. To my critics, All I can do is work twice as hard to show them what I’m capable of because the only person whose judgment truly condemns is the Lord”.
Once again satisfied with his answer, David brushed his hair away from his ears and prepared his lips for the next assault while the songs of the cicada’s progressively chopped away at his consciousness.
“Other than training, what other changes have you made Jones”.
Before the end of the question even trailed off of his tongue, David had already stitched together his answer.
Well for one, I have gone completely sober. Consuming has been nothing but a sin to me. If the greats like Floyd Mayweather and Tony Ferguson don’t need it, then I don’t ever want to touch another drop. Of course, I have also spent a lot of time connecting with the Lord, my relationship with him is everything. I have also been reading a lot”.
Maintaining the smile, he broke eye contact from the screen for a second and prepared for whatever his next questions would be.
“What have you been reading, Jones”.
“Well other than the bible, of course… I also really liked that one civil war book by Faulkner”.
With the cicadas now screeching into the sky, David felt his ears ring and throb uncontrollably while Samuel simply carried on unphased. Balling his fists, he poured his strength into maintaining his smile while the cicada’s approached the climax of their piece.
“Have you read Shakespeare’s Macbeth, Jones”?
David felt his chest clamor into an anxious pump in response to his question while his tongue rolled back in defense.
“I have not yet, sir. Why?”
“I think you can-”.
As the cicada’s reached their compelling climax, their symphony drowned out the rest of Samuel’s feeble voice. Forced to cover his ears and drop his smile for a moment, he waited for their cries to ring out into a lulling silence.
“Sorry, what did you say, sir, couldn’t hear you”.
“I think you can relate to the idea of being your own downfall, David”.
Under the somber silence, David felt his face collapse as he slouched deeper into his car’s seat.
“Is that it?”
With his kind voice launching into another laugh, he began to phrase together another question. Bearing a blank face, David hung up the call and put the phone down before the question finished. Tired of the mocking sycamore, David launched his keys into the ignition as it let out a powerful roar into the night sky. Turning around to back up the vehicle, he stared into a familiar pair of ivory eyes glaring at him. With a new cicada speared in its mouth, it let out a quiet hiss as he moved closer. Bewildered yet willing, he signaled the cat to leap into the passenger seat with his belt as he strapped himself in. As the engine let out another igniting roar, the cat obliged, carrying its prey with it as David launched down the road. Swerving from lane to lane, with his foot crushing the accelerator, he burst into the midnight sky as it lit up his license plate: 2 12-13.
With his eyes off of the road, he looked into the cat’s ivory eyes as his eyes began to well up. He let out a whisper to it.
“Driving into the moonlight is blinding”
Looking back to the road, he battered the accelerator as the dashboard lit up with numbers teasing death, bringing him close to god. From behind, a pack of four flashing lights quickly approached in pursuit. With an empty bottle sprawled on the floor, a fired pistol with a single bullet locked in its chamber, and his own madness: David accepted his fate and pulled over to the side of the road. As the flashing cars surrounded, he shut off his vehicle as four men in black pounced out. Looking to his passenger seat, the belt and the cat had vanished- all that was left of the woods was a single bleeding cicada staring through him with its flaming crimson eyes. Falling into a whimper, he felt a searing pain run down his wrists as the twenty-seventh tally sealed itself up and reappeared on his right wrist. Once the pain faded away, he rolled down his window, staring into a face and suit he had already seen too many variants of.
“How are you doing today”.
With his eyes welling up further, he stared into the man in black’s disappointed eyes. His voice spoke out- soft and hoarse.
“I’m okay sir”.
With the other men in black surrounding his vehicle, David dropped his fists as his heart began to drop.
“What vehicle are you driving”.
“2018 Dodge Demon sir”.
Stopping for a second to let out a deep exhale, the man in black continued further with his questioning.
“We are going to need you to step outside and perform some sobriety tests, sir”.
Obliging, David swung the door out and stepped onto the open road with weak, feeble, steps.
“Please, sir. I don’t need to be tested. I have drank way above the legal limit. Please, just arrest me”.
As the sirens of the flashing car finally illuminated his face, the officer took note of the many scars scathed across his face.
“We are going to need someone to pick up your vehicle. Do you have any family members or loved ones that we can call here to help you out?”
Looking into his vehicle, he watched as the other officers pulled out the opened bottle and fired gun. Squealing in disgust, one of them flicked the tortured cicada across his passenger seat.
“I can’t face my wife, sir”.
Patting David on the shoulder, the officer whipped out a pair of handcuffs and splayed David against the vehicle, attempting to lock his arms in place.
“Where were you before you started driving”
“I was in the forest, sir”.
As the moonlight, began to peek out of the clouds, again, David waited for the officer to finish locking his hands together as something caught his eye in his side-view mirror.
“What were you doing in the forest?”
Staring into his namesake, with his eyes finally under the moonlight: David stared soberly into the mocking stare of the man who ravaged his life down to hell. A menacing pair of clouded-black eyes, veiled in a cryptic twinkle, stared back into his own eyes through the side mirror. A single tear streamed down his face.
“Shadowboxing”.
With a somber look drawn across the officer’s face, he looked into The King’s butchered face.
“I understand”.
The cicada, as it slowly bled out, cried one last mournful song: it was the same old song from earlier.
ns 15.158.61.48da2
