Chapter Five

The Second of three

Benson POV

I stood before Drake, the evil one of the brothers. He had trained me, and given me a sword. The sword had a dark red jagged blade, and a black handle. It was the perfect size and weight for me. To summon it, I would shoot an orb of darkness into the ground, and the sword would rise from the spot of evil made. I would then grab the sword, and have it ready for use.

"Benson," said Drake, "we must formulate a plan to take out Mordecai. It is clear it is tougher than he looks, for that monster I sent for him died at his hands."

"The monster was a pussy," I said, "I can take him down without any problems whatsoever. Just tell me where he is, and you will rule the world when I kill him." I could see that Drake was considering it,

"That is a risky move," said Drake, "But if you really must, you may. Just one thing: Do not come crying to me if Mordecai defeats you." I nodded, and left to find Mordecai.

…

Mordecai POV

I hadn't been feeling well for the last few days, but that didn't hinder me from fighting crime. I was just feeling cruddy, along with a runny nose and a sore throat. It took some doing, but Rigby, Margaret, and Robert convinced me to go to the doctor. I stepped off the motorcycle that had been a gift to me from a motorcycle shop I saved from burning down, and walked into the office.

"I'm sorry," said the doctor, "but we can't find your diagnosis." I shrugged, and got up,

"HOWEVER," he said, like he just remembered something, "there is a special doctor here, who can solve any sickness via a crystal ball he has." He opened a door, and Rigby, Robert, Margaret, and I walked in.

We were in a room that was small, and had a door at the end of it. A woman came from behind a curtain.

"So the doctor wasn't able to find your sickness?" she asked, in a heavy english accent, "well, Doctor Sick will find it, and that's a promise." She gestured for us to follow her. She opened the door, and we followed her into the room.

"Doctor Sick," said the woman, clearly his assistant, "we have a patient here to see you." The man didn't move. He was wearing a huge robe, and a turban the same color of royal blue, so only the back of his head was visible.

"Doctor?" she asked again.

"GRAVE ILLNESS!" The doctor shouted so loudly that everyone in the room jumped. The doctor whipped around, and pointed a finger at me. "This man has a grave illness, that can cause him serious harm. He will surely die soon if we are not careful." The doctor went to his Crystal Ball, and waved his hands over it. An image began to form.

"The man is suffering from..." He paused, and we all leaned in closer, "BENSONITUS!" The image that was forming turned out to be a picture of Benson's head. He was wearing an evil smirk, before laughing sinisterly.

"Somebody page me?" Asked a voice from behind us, one all of us (save for Robert) Knew very well: It was the voice of Benson.

"Yes," cried the doctor, "the pox shows himself."

"Pox?" asked Benson, "you're a pox." The doctor took out a notepad and started writing something,

"I must be frank with you," he said, "Bensonitus is powerful. Recovering from it will take some time. I'm prescribing ten days' worth of Antibiotics. Take these a few times a day, with food preferably."

Benson raised his fist and threw a powerful haymaker punch. I leapt over the blow, and landed behind my attacker. The doctor was not so lucky, as he was slammed by the fist, and sent through the wall behind his ball. Benson whipped around,

"Ah, my Ex-employee," he said to me, "you are going to be a major problem to my master Drake's plan. I will kill you here and now, before you can cause anymore trouble than you have just by being born." Benson put up his fists, and I put up mine. We engaged in a knock-down-drag-out fight.

"Let's take this outside," I said, throwing Benson through the wall. We traded punches in the alleyway. He managed to throw me in the middle of a busy intersection, and I just barely jumped out of the way of a speeding car. I retaliated by throwing a wild barrage of punches and most of them hit.

Suddenly, Benson froze as he was getting up.

"Mordecai," said a voice; the voice of Joel,

"I've got another weapon for you to use. Remember that pistol you took from that gangster?"

"Yeah," I said, having kept it on me at all times.

"Give it here," I obeyed. The pistol was silver, and had a black logo on it, assumingly the mark of the gang. He held it, and it turned into a much longer gun. It had a golden barrel, and a blue grip on it.

"Use this when your enemies won't come in close enough for a direct attack." Suddenly, he was gone, and Benson was moving again. He dove away from me, and began to throw things at me. I used my new gun and blasted him a few times.

It was a long, hard, battle, but I had him whipped. As he lay on the ground, I said to him,

"Stay away from me and my family." And left.

…

Benson POV

I lay on the ground in pain. Mordecai had beaten me but good. Suddenly, Drake was standing over me.

"What did I tell you?" He asked. "I warned you that Mordecai is stronger than you know. Don't rush headlong into battle like that."