Will and Fate
By Jeremy
Chapter 4
February 1993
Samantha Dunn squirmed and fretted in her bed, unheeding her husband who happened to sleep right next to her. She wasn't physically ill, being as healthy as a woman of twenty. The illness, if one could call it that, was rather mental, and not centered on her. It was rather centered on something she had seen that very evening, at dinner.
Jeremy had come back from school, all smiles and showing a radiant demeanor. She had found it strange, especially after a day of school, and had said so. The boy had then chuckled and exclaimed that he was going on a date that very friday, with a girl named Jessica. He had then recounted how great she was, how perky and that he thought she was the very best girl in the world. Samantha had just laughed inwardly, remembering that time when she was going on dates and she had been just as joyous and energetic. This was one of the things she really missed about her youth.
But then everything had gone downhill the moment Thomas had walked into the room. The large teen had overheard some of their comments and, ignoring both the warnings from his mother and his smaller cousin's dangerous looks, he hadn't waited in ridiculing the very idea of his cousin with a girl. The atmosphere, already a wary one, had gone icy and deadly. Jeremy had sneered at his cousin bitterly, retorting that if he ever had a date, he'd never stoop so low as to beat her if she prooved to be better than he at something. To his fuming cousin he had added with the spiteful glee teenagers seemed to have down so well that, anyway, the poor idiot had no chance: who'd want a violent, second-rate fighter that also happened to be a rather mediocre student?
It had been all that she could do to stop things from escalating even further, and dinner had been rather cold, as the two had refused to spare each other more than a few words while she and Mattew had just looked on, rather helpless about the situation. Again.
It was only the lastest of a series of similar events that had started right after the damned tournament where Tom had acted far too violently and Jeremy had reacted far too harshly and pridefully. Neither of the two stubborn youths had given the other the apologies that would have been necessary. And so the rift between the two had grown, moved along by Jeremy's inflexible ethics and Tom's incresingly spiteful attitude. To she and Mattew's dismay and sadness, the two inseparable near-brothers slowly became two increasingly distant, even wary, cousins. It hadn't been easy on her husband at all, she knew. Mattew had at first tacitely agreed with Jeremy's actions, which he still seemed to think were an honourable response to a despicable act, unknowingly speeding up the widening of the chasm between his boys. By the time he had realized that, it had, of course, been far too late.
The damage was done.
Since then, she had often seen sorrow in Mattew's eyes as he looked at the estranged cousins. Sorrow, and the bitter wish he had never brought the two to that tournament, where two young teenagers had found what right now seemed the end of what had been a great brotherly friendship.
And as for she herself, she had no clue what to do about the situation. She only knew that she cared about the two equally. And that she desperately wanted the two to come to friendly terms. That seemed well-nigh impossible at the moment. And that, more than anything else, was killing her inside.
She shifted again in her bed, and beside her a sigh was uttered.
"It hasn't grown any better, has it?" whispered Mattew in the darkness of the room.
Samantha wasn't surprised that her husband was awake all that time. With all of her squirming and the occasional difficulties the man had in finding sleep, he had probably been awake from the moment he had wished her a good night. Furthermore, he always seemed to know when something disturbed her, which was one of the qualities she loved most about him. Many were the times when she had been down or sad and he had simply come to her, sometimes to talk, sometimes to simply show that, whatever was wrong, he would be there.
Yes, she loved him for that. And she was glad he was there at this very moment to talk to.
"No, I can't say it has." she whispered back. "They look like they're making it just a little bit worse, everytime."
"Yeah. I f they keep this up, they'll eventually be unable to stand each other. And that scares me."
"Join the club."
"Jeremy wants it to end, however." Mattew mused. Samantha looked in his general direction.
"What do you mean?"
"Look at the fights themselves. Its always Tom who starts it by saying something spiteful or hurtful. More than that, Jeremy makes subtle ouvertures of friendship but is always rebuked angrily. So I think Jeremy wants it to end."
"And Tom doesn't?" she asked, bewildered and a little angry at him for thinking Thomas would volontarily keep up such a terrible situation. Her husband seemed to realise that for he became more soothing.
"Maybe not that much, but he still feels betrayed by Jeremy." he stopped and she could feel him consider something. "That, and he's also plain jealous."
"Jealous? Because Jeremy is better at school?" she asked, thought she suspected it was only scratching the surface. What her husband said confirmed it.
"Because he's better at just about everything the two share. Jeremy gets 80% on a test with only the most basic of studying, while it takes Tom great efforts to reach the same grade. Don't give me that look I know you're giving me, I'm just stating facts. Jeremy also beats our other boy at the winter sports. Tom is better at summer sports because his cousin has just about no interests in them. The worst comes from fighting skills. In that aspect, I'm afraid, Thomas can't even compete. He's very good and all, but Jeremy! He's just like his mother, a fountain of raw skills that just await refining. Except for me, no one in the dojo even comes close to him, even Tom. And Jeremy's skills just keep on getting better, while Tom has more or less reached his peak. He'll be a good fighter, but Jeremy will be an exceptional fighter. And I think that's what troubling our older boy the most."
"Wow." said Samantha with a low chuckle.
"Wow what?" asked Mattew.
"I think this is the longest speech you've done all week! I'm impressed you're not thirsty."
"Err...ah...well...just wanted to make everything clear." whispered Mattew a trifle uncomfortably.
"How long do you think it will last?" she asked more seriously.
Mattew shrugged. "I don't know. You guess is as good as mine. It won't get better anytime soon, that's a fact. And in the meantime...heheh...I know a few ways to get ourselves thinking about something else."
Samantha wondered for a moment what he meant by that. Then she felt something move under the sheets. She started, then gave off a whispered laugh.
"Why you big, perverted..." she began. Mattew just laughed at her completely fake indignation. "After all that serious talk of yours, you got the mind for that?!?"
"Well, why not? Its one of the best way to relieve stress. Very therapeutic and very amusing."
"Noisy, too." she said, and suddenly moved over her husband, who made no attempt of pushing her off. "But, why not? Its been a while since we seriously did it." she teased. The former fighter shifted a bit at that, pretending to be miffed.
"And what does that mean?!?" he asked peevishly.
"You know that. But now, I'll make up for it all tonight." she promised.
Mattew whistled. "That implies a lot of things."
"Believe them all, my love. Believe them all..."
The rest of the night was, well, relatively silent.
* * * * * * * * * *
Two weeks later...
One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Keep in focus. Don't lose it. Keep the beat. One, two, three, four.
Jeremy had more problems than usual in keeping up with his routine. Every saturday morning, at six, he ate four raw eggs (far more for the nutritional value than for the taste) and went throught two hundred push-ups, squats and sit-ups and a twenty-minutes streching meditation. Following that little bit of preparation (which would finish anyone lacking his sometimes unshakable stubborness) he ran in the snow for two miles to hone the strength of his legs and to boost his speed. It was a regimen of exercices he had taken after putting himself throught a training session that Alex, his rather immense friend, had thought rather easy. He had been so beat that he had known he had to step up his training by quite a few notches if he didn't want to get beaten to a pulp the day the two would engage all-out like they promised they would. And so the training had begun in earnest. He tried to squeeze all the strength, speed and energy in his body in order to upgrade these very three little by little. And it was working. Already, he was faster, stronger and possessed a far greater endurance than those who were considered 'normal' fourteen years old. And he planned on getting stronger.
But today, for some reason, he couldn't make it work just as well as the other times.
Scratch that, he told himself ruefully, you know EXACTLY why its not working. True enought. He was seeing Melissa today. And thinking of her made his training a paltry thing by comparison. Sometimes all he seemed to be able to think about was that red-haired, stunningly beautiful bit of a woman who - oh, lucky him! - had just happened to like him enought to date him. Not that he hadn't seen girls being attracted to him. His athletic body attracted more than one pair of female eyes. However, most of these gazes were for the body only, bypassing all the training and mind-focussing that had gone with it to shape it. Some, he had seen, took it all in stride, but he couldn't. His mild manners couldn't. And his damnable ethics certainly couldn't. He found he expected a lot in a relationship, and lost interest of those girls without these expectations rather quickly.
But then that girl had just come around and sat by him at the library, and had started talking to him with only slight lust in her eyes. That had pleased him, and so had the conversation, that had been very deep and centered on a variety of subjects, none of which touching martial arts or training. He soon found out that the girl had a very bright mind to match her looks. She talked about things that Jeremy sometimes had to run along fast to catch up with her trail of conversation. Her smile was dazzling, he soon found out. He really wondered why she bothered with him at all. After all, althought he was a good student, he wasn't a very social type. In fact he made a point to mildly put aside social situations. He just didn't feel like he fitted in those. And there he was making one of the most idle chats of his life. Even Claudia had never manged talks like those.
When it had been time to go back to class, she had just dropped, "I like your style, Jeremy Storm." which had left him to wonder about her all the rest of the day. The day afterward, they had chatted again. And the day after. By that time other students were starting to give them knowing smiles that made him uncomfortable. After all, he was just talking! What was wrong with that?!? He made a point to glare at any of those who gave him that look. It didn't work well. Althought Thomas had taken to being intimidating - which hadn't helped the smaller Storm in trying to make up with him - he had not, in fact had tried to be as non-threatening has a one who was known as the "Best Fighter In School" -an honour he hadn't sought or wanted - could be. All that he had managed to do, in fact, was to render the knowing looks even more knowing.
But his annoyance had faded when he started having real feelings about this girl. He felt better than anywhere else when with her, he found. Soon the conversations, stirred by his feelings - which she started to return - became more intimate. And then one day she just arrived, sat and asked him out. He had been struck speechless for one of the few times in his life, his brain understanding the information yet somehow refusing to let him show any reaction. He had managed to babble a vague affirmative. That they, he had announced his excitement to his Aunt -and almost beat Tom senseless for his ridiculous comment, how those fights were beginning to be frequent!. Two days later, they had gone to see a movie. They had been dating constantly ever since.
He sighed, slowing his pace as he came within sight of Mattew's dojo, still closed. He fished the spare key out of his pockets and jogged to the door. He unlocked it and stepped inside. No one. He wasn't surprised. Today was saturday, and Mattew always closed on saturday. However, he and Tom were free to use the place to train if need be. A few months before, he might have brought Tom along, too. But no more. Firstly, because he and the larger Storm were barely on speaking terms these days, and getting into a fight again was the last thing he wanted before going out on a date. The second reason was harder to admit. It was that Thomas no longer was really a match for him. He'd seen it more and more the past few months. Thomas was still learning to master some black belt - sometimes brown belt - techiniques, while he had only to refine them. Thanks to his grandfather, he was starting to understand and bring an inkling of control over his chi, while Tom obviously had no real talent for it. Yes, his skills were better than Tom's. It wasn't even egotism. After all, everyone could see it.
What he needed to sort this all out was to get himself some meditation. Yes, that was it. It always helped him before. It was a refreshing experience, being able to delve into the complex thrends of his mind and find peace.
He shrugged out of his winter outfit, removed his socks, and stepped on the tatamis, making the karate gesture of respect before doing so. Strange, one might say, that he'd have to do so when he was alone. In fact, he didn't. It just seemed the ethical thing to do. When ones does something respectful in front of others, he should also do so in front of oneself, he sometimes said about it to other karate students. Thinking about it, he found it no surprise some people found him strange.
Oh, well.
He sat cross-legged, took a few deep breaths to stabilise himself, then started to draw inside himself. He looked in his mind's eyes at all the colours of his emotions. Blue for sadness, red for pain, white for joy. All colours interwining and making him into what he was, who he was, and what he felt. He soon found the power that surrounded all these thoughts. Hi chi. All, according to his grandfather, had chi. Only few knew about it, fewer still knew how to tap it. He was glad to be among those, at least. And it wasn't because this could allow him to progress even farther as fighter, but rather because he could enjoy his own mind and come to a better underrstanding of himself. There, the chi starts to flow. He felt it, embraced it, let it overwhelm him. He closed his eyes and tasted in the blissful energies of his own inner self.
"HELP ME!"
The cry was so desperate and so strong that it fairly bashed him out of his trance, sending him crashing backward, clutching his skull. He tried to regain his inner calm, but now his very thoughts had been shaken by the urgency of the call. His head hurt and spun, forcing him to lie back. He heard a growling moan, and realized it was he himself who was making that noise.
After what seemed an eternity, his head stopped throbbing infernally, and he was able to think again clearly. However, his calm hadn't returned at all. Quite the opposite. He tried to de fine what he had felt. The voice - was it really a voice? - had been so deformed by fear that he was unable to put anything realistic on it. He thought it might be a female voice, but then again how could he be sure? He had never felt anything like it before.
He froze mentally. That wasn't true. He had felt something like this before. About two years ago, when he had tried to access his chi, he had also suffered a backlash. Only then there were strange, uncoherent sentences, much like a dream. It had shaken him badly, so badly he had stopped his attempts for months. However, in time he had come to think of it all as an hallucination brought by his unwise methods and an overactive imagination.
Well, scratch that this time. Whatever that had been, it had been all too real to be a trick of his imagination. Never in all his life had he heard such fright in someone. Even the best of actors he saw in thrillers and other movies didn't come close to the raw despair, the absolute terror, he had felt in the words 'help me'. He found that he really wished to help that person. Very much so. But he had no idea where this person might be. Or WHO she was. Or even if it was really a SHE. But he knew that something terrible was happening to someone, somewhere. What could be done to that person, obviously someone who understood chi at least a little, to generate such abject terror? He shuddered. The possibilities weren't very rejoicing.
Great, that's it, he thought unhappily, my day is ruined. I won't be thinking of Melissa now, but of that person who's obviously in drastic brands of troubles. Life really knew how to make things hard on someone sometimes. There was no way he'd get his meditation now, with all of his internal questioning. At least his head didn't hurt like the last time this had happened. But his wits still felt scattered. He got up, and assumed a fighting stance. If he couldn't do meditation, he'd do a few katas, which were just as satisfying if not as psychically refreshing. After the first few moves, however, he didn't lose himself to the flow of movements but once again to his own questionning.
Okay, first time this happened I heard myself - or a slightly older myself - saying a few sentences that were rather incoherent. I could almost feel it was a dream. He frowned, his movements breaking up as he lost his concentration. But I'd swear on anything that this voice was REAL. That plea was real. And it wasn't something that happened in the future, but right now. Which meant there was no way he could help. Even if he knew who it was, the chances he'd be close enought to help would be impossible. And the impossible had always grated him to no ends. He supposed it might be a blessing, for that way of thinking had been what had made augment his skills constantly. After all, he was very close, his grand-father had admitted, to being able to master the Eagle Strike. And from the hints he had received, there were other techniques waiting after that, techniques that even his uncle didn't know. He found he couldn't wait.
But right now, hie inability to accept something as impossible was nothing short of a curse.
While he had been thinking that hard, his body had continued the complicated kata, but not as perfectly as it should have been, indeed would have been, if he'd been paying attention. In fact, at one point he went a bit to close to the wall and, his mind not registering that fact, his hand shot out and went smack against the wall. Jeremy broke up his kata immediately, crying out and rubbing his hand, and he would have cursed himself if it hadn't felt it rather blasphemous to curse on a training tatami. As he was rubbing his rather wounded hand, he heard soft laughter and looked in that direction, dismayed that he hadn't felt a presence before. He expected to find Tom, and prepared for another verbal fight.
Instead he saw Claudia, wso was sitting just beside the traning field, looking at him in merriment. Althought he relaxed at knowing it there wouldn't be a fight, he also reddened in silent shame at his fumbling, which was inexcusable by the standards he was trying hard to attain. Claudia obviously saw this, but he still tried to maintain his dignity.
"I shouldn't have tried it so close to the wall." he deadpanned.
"You shouldn't have lost your concentration, you mean. I'm not an idiot, Sir Storm." Drat, she had seen it. Nothing left but salvage now.
"And I don't think you are, Lady Levenson. I was just trying to look a little less the fool."
"You failed that."
"Which is why I was trying to be flattering."
"Failed that, too!"
"My, aren't you merciful today." he sighed. Then a thought struck him. "Been here long?"
She shook her head. "Nah. Just came 'round a few seconds before you smashed up your hand."
He nodded, relieved. She hadn't seen his little hysterics. Good. The last thing he needed was to explain those to her. "So what brought you here? Except the need to make me feel like a fool, I mean."
She swept her her blond locks off of her forehead. Even in a winter parka, she was stunning, and becoming more so by the day. She could have had any guy at school without the shadow of a problem. However...
"I got a letter from Alex today!" she declared excitedly, with wide, happy eyes.
However, she had gotten hitched - and badly - by someone who lived about a hundred miles down south. And he supposed he was to blame, thought he didn't feel bad about it. When, after the disastrous tournament, he had dragged the young wrestler to meet his friends, it had taken about fifteen minutes before Both Nathan and him had felt that they were disrupting some kind of very sappy romance. That Claudia had spent just about every single moment glued - if it was possible, fused - to Alex, to the big blond's obvious bliss, hadn't escaped the notice of either of the smaller boys. The soirée had thus been quite a bit a miracle for a boy and a girl, and a very weird experience for two other young males. And it had continued. And it was still continuing. Even thought he lived a hundred miles south. Even thought he couldn't visit more than once a month - during which Jeremy, who styled himself his friend, saw him little. Even thought all that they had were letters. Wow. He really couldn't do anything but admire the tenacity of their bond. He hoped the same with Melissa. But it was still a bit early to make any plans on that.
"So, what did that mobile mountain write you, huh?" changing the subject and the flow of his thoughts at the same time. She flushed slightly, and he couldn't help but grin "Except the oh-so-personal parts, of course." he added with a wry tint in his voice
"Hum...he's just fine. He told me he gotta part-time job at a flower shop."
"Whaa? A flower shop?!? Him?!?"
Jeremy desperatly tried to live with the mental image of the enormous sixteen-year old cheerfully selling flowers, but immediately found that it was so hilarious he just couldn't and despite himself, he started to giggle like a fool. Probably burning steamed at him for making fun of her "perfect" boyfriend, Claudia shot him a dark look. It didn't help. Truth be told, it only made matters worse. From giggles he erupted into guffaws that litterally shook the rafters. He laughed so hard, but it felt so good, it had been such a long while since he had had a long laugh like that. He soon found himself flat on his back, with the ceiling his only sight. He remained there, enjoying the relaxation and frantically trying to stiffle his mirth.
"I should've known you'd react like that." she growled. "He wrote you would, too, you know."
"Hehehe...And...hee...he was right, like always." He put his hands behind his head and sighed deeply. "Thanks for telling me, though. I really needed the laugh."
She looked at him with a very shrewed look, her usual naive facade fading very quickly. This was one of Claudia's most useful trick: she could show an happy, airhead-like outlook to people who didn't know her, therefore giving those a superior - and reckless - feel that she often used against those who really irked her. With her friends, however, she used it to make them relax. This was one of the reasons that he was so often so glad she was his friend before, that he was close to this beautiful, cheerful but deceptively intelligent blond. This was one of those times.
"Is it Tom?" she asked.
It wasn't. Not this time. But then again, she couldn't know about his...what were they anyway, experiences? Only his grandfather knew, because he was the only one who seemed to understand it a bit of what was happening. Jeremy knew he didn't. But Tom was another problem he had, one that he easily could tell her about. He doubted it would change anything, but at least he could clear the air a little bit. After all, Nate and Claudia had stuck by him and not Tom when things had gotten hot after the tournament. He knew he talk to them.
"I must say that yeah, its partly him." He hurried on before she could ask about the unknown 'parts'. "I don't know how to take him anymore, Claudia. These days, I can't seem to even be able to see his face without getting into a shouting match."
"You, shout?" she smiled. "Jer, that's not your style."
"No, its definitely not my style. Usually. Most of the time. Except with him." he replied.
"Can't you two just sit and talk it over like grown-ups, you know?"
"I'm afraid its a big no-can-do. We both refused to apologise. I'm no better there. We both think we are right. And most of all, we're both as stubborn as bulls chasing after a red flag! How can we sit quietly in the same room, even more so, how to talk over that?. Its sad, you know, but I really don't think we'll forgive each other pretty soon. We're just both like that. No more, no less." he looked away.
He knew Claudia was looking at him soberly, her soft features an image of concern. "That's one big shame, you know." she finally stated, obviously feeling Jeremy's conflicting anger and deep sadness.
He only nodded, his face completly shadowed but showing that very conflict. Silence now reigned in the dojo. It became so thick that finally Claudia, as he had known, couldn't bear it and broke it again.
"By the way, while we're talking about fighting, when are you going to start testing those skills of yours?"
That took him by surprise. Of all people, he hadn't thought that she would be the one to bring that up. Mattew, yes. Grandpa, yes. Tom, well, maybe. Even Nathan. But not Claudia. Maybe it was because Alex was her boyfriend. He couldn't be sure. But he had to admit that the question had merits. Lots of that. He simply wasn't sure of how to answer it right now. Sure, he liked having those ever-increasing skills and seeing his training pay off, but to go out on the streets to challenge strong fighters, like his uncle and his parents had done...it just seemed a big step to take. Maybe too big.
"Bah. Dunno about that. As soon as I feel like it. Maybe when I feel I gotta reason to." he shrugged noncommitally. "Did Alex ask about that? Or was it just an idea you got all of a sudden?"
"About asking this? Its all mine. But I know Alex wants to know about it. He's told me he'd like to slug it out good with you when you think you're ready, when you're at you're max and 'pumped up'."
Jeremy laughed softly. "He WOULD say that, huh?!? I'll hint it to him that it'll happen eventually but that I can't make promises as to the exact time I'll be 'pumped up'. He'll just have to be patient for a while."
Claudia nodded at him as he turned to finally look in her direction. Then her stance assumed a much more lecherous outlook. It made Jeremy worry. He soon found the reason for that, however. "Now that all that is settled, what are you going to do with Melissa tonight." she asked with a strange smile.
"Certainly nothing that's worth what's going throught that perverted little mind of yours, you blond Machiavel! Alex is lucky to have you, but he'll suffer so much with you that I pity him!" he exclaimed.
"Oh, come ooon! As if nothing's going on inside YOUR mind!" she teased.
He turned red. "W-w-ell...only because you just put those thoughts into me!"
"Yeah, right!"
"CLAUDIA!!!!"
* * * * * * * * * *
That evening...
Three guys were strolling outside, unaware of the cold and the companionship of true friends. It wasn't a very cold night anyway. Perfect to hang out into town and wash away their trouble behind a few quaffs of strong beverage. Not that they were drunk, mind you. They were in full possession of their wits. Which is the reason one of them, looking around while he smiled from a particularly funny joke told by one of his friends, noticed the crumpled and prone form that was just beside the walkway. Had he been looking just a bit elsewhere, he would've missed it. As it was, he almost thought it was an homeless person sleeping on the street - althought he would have found a better place than that! - before he noticed that the clothes were way too....clean, for lack of a better word, to be the property of an homeless person. He squinted at the figure and went over to look at it. His friends, who had been ahead, stopped whenthey realized he wasn't in the immediate area and looked for him. They soon spotted him, and walked over to him.
"Hey, Max! No fair leaving us like that without saying a word!!" laughed one.
"Just for that, the next drinks will be on you!" stated the other with a cackle.
The guy named Max wasn't really paying attention to them. He went closer to the figure. Maybe the person had passed out from drinking too much. He had, once or twice, when he had been out partying before. Or maybe it was something worse. Not a good thought that. Extremely ugly. But unavoidable in the circumstances. He stooped over the person, gave a nudge. Nothing. Feeling like a fool, really not knowing what he'd say if the person was just drunk, he gently pushed the face towards the hazy light of the street lamp, just to make out the situation better.
His friends, still a distance away, couldn't see what he was doing, and subsequently grew tired of what to them seemed a complete waste of time that could be spent doing better things like drinking and laughing at jokes and flirting with pretty girls.
"Come on, man! The guy's just sleeping off some booze. He'll wake up with a headache and no more than that!" one grumbled.
"Yeah, but maybe he'd get hurt during the night. And for all that, it'll get cold during the night." noted the other.
"Aw, come on! What do you want us to do 'bout it? Invite the guy home?!? Or maybe, if its a gal, you'd prefer!"
"SHIT!"
Max's shout brought the two out of their petty fight and smack back into the real world. They saw their, friend, just a few meters away now, backpedalling as if he'd been bitten by a huge snake. He was shaking his head quickly, as if trying to deny what he had just seen. The two men exchanged a worried galance, then, their stomachs beginning to clench in a unidentifiable dread, they sprinted the distance and reached him in a mere moment.
"Hey, man, what's wrong?" asked the one who, just a second before, had been all for letting a drunken person freeze at night. Max didn't answer, just stared ahead toward the prone person. Both men trudged forward, anticipation and curiosity overtaking them. Only a few steps, and then they saw things clearer. Then they understood their friend completely. They really didn't want to, but they did.
"Holy...of all the...this is...this is inhuman!" croaked one.
Max, at that, started to come to his sense. He looked at his friends. "We gotta go get an ambulance. Get help! Watch him, okay?" He sped towards the nearest lighted door. His friends stared after him for a moment, then, reluctantly, looked back at the form.
"Sure. But, in his state, he won't be moving much."
* * * * * * * * * *
Unseen from the men, a figure stood in the darkness, looking over at things with sadistic amusement. How wussy people could be. Show them something just a little bit harsh and they scatter. These men had no spirit, ni inner fire, no will to fight. Not worthy of his time. Anyway, he wasn't as angry at them as he had been with his latest plaything. Now, that one had fought. Desperately. Tooth and nail. With every once of his being. Now that, the figure respected.
Very brave.
Very honorable.
Quite futile. But it had been fun.
The figure felt no remorse over what it had done. It had to be done. The victim knew far too much, had betrayed the trust of a friend. Such a fiend deserved punishment. Deserved the most atrocious of deaths. Peaceful, cleansing death. Such a moving moment, to feel the victim at your mercy, and to know - oh yes, to know - that you will clean her of the betrayal that has darkened her soul. It wasn't something people seemed to understand, to his growing surprise. Still, the figure thought, hadn't it once been like this - unknowing of the severe nature of betrayal. Of the evil nature of betraying wills? Of the fate of death as part of the cleansing of the soul. Probably. It thought so. But it was in a time long gone, now. A time when youth dilluted betrayal.
Thankfully, he saw things clearly, now.
One of the three men squeaked "...this is...this is inhuman!" The figure smirked. Blind fool! What he had done was the only thing he could have done, the most humane thing, the most merciful. But how could such simpletons know? How could anyone know. They didn't see the truth. They never saw the burning of betrayal, the joy of revenge and death's cleansing. Inhuman? Inhuman? What could be more human but to save a soul that had lost its way to betrayal. It was written. It had to be. It is the only truth.
As the figure moved away, unseen, it kept mumbling the same sentence, over and over, like a litany.
It is ONLY truth.
* * * * * * * * * *
A few hours later...
Melissa Chastel was as happy as she could get. After weeks of hints and secondhand remarks, Jeremy had finally agreed to a full date with her. It wasn't an easy task. Sometimes she had had to hint things far too openly for her taste, and he had been nearly clueless. At first disappointed and frustrated, she soon found out that her would-be boyfriend wasn't really clueless about her intentions, but was just searching for the best way to reciprocate. After learning this, she decided to become even more direct in her dealings with him, something she had felt that he greatly liked. Obviously Jeremy Storm wasn't a big fan of innuendos and dubious hints.
Althought they had seen each other outside of school before, this was the first time she had gotten him to commit an entire evening to her, something that she felt as a great victory. After all he had once summerized his life as fourty percent training and thirty for anything else, and thirty percent sleeping. She had found that it was only too true, as she heard that, of all the school, he was by far the best when it came down to hand-to-hand combat, and a first-rate athlete that team captains actually fought to have in their team. Not that he cared much about sports, as long as they didn't interfere with his martial arts. The fanatic - Jeremy balked when he heard her use that word, but she felt it was true - way he had of training had given him a lean, muscled body that, added to his reserved looks and grey eyes, made many a female head turn. She certainly wasn't an exception to that rule, althought she herself, she knew, wasn't too bad in the way of looks.
But there were other cute guys. So why this one? That was a question she was often asked. Her answer was the same every time.
It was first because Jeremy had a great sense of right and wrong, but made concessions for a bit of grey - not much, of course, but more than many a boy did at fourteen! He also was extremely mild-mannered in conversations, rarely bragging or harsh. That she had liked a lot about him. But what she had liked the most was the degree of devotion he gave to what he believed in. He believed friendship was important, and thus was exceptionally close to his - especially the naive blonds and the thin, long haired boy. What were the names? Ah, yes, Claudia and Nathan. He was always there for them, no matter what. It was that devotion that she found she craved. That she was starting to get it made her almost extatic.
This night had been perfect. First they had taken a bite at a nice place, then they had gone to see that movie, Groundhog Day, they had both laughed at Bill Murray's antics. And now they were going, heedless of the cold, to a teen disco nearby. Yes, it was perfect.
"I liked that movie. Pretty funny, no?" she asked.
"Huh? Ah, yes, it was." he said absent-mindedly. He really had the look of someone who was entirely elsewhere. Frowning, she tried to bring back the warmth that had been there in the theatre. What could he be thinking, anyway?
"The part about the insurance agent, wasn't it pretty good?" she asked, trying again.
He only nodded ansent-mindedly. Melissa started to feel quite a bit frustrated. They were on a date, for Heaven' Sake! That meant a minimum of conversation. But nooo, her date had to go and play the introspective act. One fault of his, too much introspection. A very big fault and a supremely annoying one. She smiled to herself. If that was the way it was...fine.
"Did you like the part with the snowman?"
"Sure."
"Don't you think it'd be fun to be stuck in the same day, over and over?"
"Yeah, of course."
"Do you want me to kiss you?"
"Huh, huh, sure. Wha...mmm!"
She kissed him full on the lips right then and there, not caring a bit if the situation was as unromantic as it could get, with them in winter gear, freezing, and passerby giving them looks ranging from amused to irritated. He stood rigid, visibly thunderstruck by the sudden turn of events. But, for a moment, he responded tentatively, before finally coming to his senses and disengaging himself. He was as red as an apple and she knew with secret amusement that it wasn't because of the cold. There! Try to ignore THAT!!!
For a moment, he stood there motionless, before finally bursting out. "What was that for?!? Not that I MIND but, still, a little warning would be nice."
"You did have a warning. I asked you and you said sure." she retorted.
"Really? Guess I wasn't paying attention. Sorry."
She shook her head. "And what were you thinking about? How to become the World's Strongest Fighter?"
He smiled. There was a sad quality to that smile. "Nothing so grand. I was just thinking that, only a year ago, I would have gone with my cousin to see that movie. Now I can't ask the time of day of him."
"Oh." was all she said. She was uncomfortable with anything regarding the cousin. There was something about him she didn't like. Something harsh in his eyes that Jeremy lacked. She never said so, but the guy litterally gave her the shivers. She decided to let the matter drop.
"Okay. But now focus on ME, right? I don't want you to step all over me when we dance because you're distracted!"
"Yes, sir!" he said ironically, making a vague salute. They both laughed, and the moment of uncertainty passed.
The walk to the disco was interrupted, however. Before they were even there halfway, they heard a frantic voice and saw, to their surprise, Claudia running towards them. Melissa, thinking she had decided to join them on a whim, was more than a little displeased. Althought she liked what she knew of the blonde, she had that capacity to control Jeremy and Nathan that could be downright scary.
However, as she came closer, she saw that the blonde girl wasn't there for the fun of it. Her winter clothes were a bit haphazard, which showed she had put her clothes on very quickly. But what struck Melissa was her face. Streaked with tears, her face was haggard and had a wild look to it. There was shock on that face. And fear. And something else. Horror. No, whatever brought her here was deadly serious.
Obviously, Jeremy had come to the same conclusion, for he seemed quite worried. He opened his mouth to say something, but didn't get the chance to say anything before he was rammed by a way smaller body than his. He tried to make sense of Claudia, as Melissa also tried to, while the blonde clung to him desperately, alternately sobbing and shrieking, her words tumbling over each other and absolutely incoherent. Jeremy finally gripped her firmly.
"Calm down, Claudia! Calm down! What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong!!" he shouted, finally manging to break her out of her hysteria.
"God. Ohgodohgod! Jer. Nate! Nate! It's horrible!!" she screamed. People were starting to come and see. The trio ignored them.
"What about Nate? What's happened?" he asked worriedly.
"Nate! He got beaten! Beaten like a dog! Its horrible! His face..." she broke into sobs.
"Beaten? Nate? How bad?" he asked. Her sobs gave him answers enough. He hugged her tightly. Then he looked at Melissa with worried grave eyes. "Sorry, Melissa. I gotta go see what's happened."
Melissa nodded. "I'll go with you."
Jeremy shook his head. "You don't need to do that. I don't want to ruin the rest of your day." he said.
"Too late for that. I'm going" she stated firmly.
He only nodded to her before turning his attention back to Claudia. The girl was still sobbing. What could have happened? How was Nathan really? Alive? Dead? These questions, Jeremy was certainly asking himself. And they would certainly found the answers to those soon enough.
That they wouldn't like them, she was, looking at the whreck called Claudia Levenson, absolutely certain.
_______________________________________________________________________
That's it for this chapter! I know, no action to speak of, only plot lines. Next chapter, I promise, will contain more bashing. But remember, I'm trying to explain the characters so that people will understand why they act this or that way when they really are amongst the World Warriors we know.
Any input or ideas would be GREATLY APPRECIATED!
See ya soon!
Jeremy
By Jeremy
Chapter 4
February 1993
Samantha Dunn squirmed and fretted in her bed, unheeding her husband who happened to sleep right next to her. She wasn't physically ill, being as healthy as a woman of twenty. The illness, if one could call it that, was rather mental, and not centered on her. It was rather centered on something she had seen that very evening, at dinner.
Jeremy had come back from school, all smiles and showing a radiant demeanor. She had found it strange, especially after a day of school, and had said so. The boy had then chuckled and exclaimed that he was going on a date that very friday, with a girl named Jessica. He had then recounted how great she was, how perky and that he thought she was the very best girl in the world. Samantha had just laughed inwardly, remembering that time when she was going on dates and she had been just as joyous and energetic. This was one of the things she really missed about her youth.
But then everything had gone downhill the moment Thomas had walked into the room. The large teen had overheard some of their comments and, ignoring both the warnings from his mother and his smaller cousin's dangerous looks, he hadn't waited in ridiculing the very idea of his cousin with a girl. The atmosphere, already a wary one, had gone icy and deadly. Jeremy had sneered at his cousin bitterly, retorting that if he ever had a date, he'd never stoop so low as to beat her if she prooved to be better than he at something. To his fuming cousin he had added with the spiteful glee teenagers seemed to have down so well that, anyway, the poor idiot had no chance: who'd want a violent, second-rate fighter that also happened to be a rather mediocre student?
It had been all that she could do to stop things from escalating even further, and dinner had been rather cold, as the two had refused to spare each other more than a few words while she and Mattew had just looked on, rather helpless about the situation. Again.
It was only the lastest of a series of similar events that had started right after the damned tournament where Tom had acted far too violently and Jeremy had reacted far too harshly and pridefully. Neither of the two stubborn youths had given the other the apologies that would have been necessary. And so the rift between the two had grown, moved along by Jeremy's inflexible ethics and Tom's incresingly spiteful attitude. To she and Mattew's dismay and sadness, the two inseparable near-brothers slowly became two increasingly distant, even wary, cousins. It hadn't been easy on her husband at all, she knew. Mattew had at first tacitely agreed with Jeremy's actions, which he still seemed to think were an honourable response to a despicable act, unknowingly speeding up the widening of the chasm between his boys. By the time he had realized that, it had, of course, been far too late.
The damage was done.
Since then, she had often seen sorrow in Mattew's eyes as he looked at the estranged cousins. Sorrow, and the bitter wish he had never brought the two to that tournament, where two young teenagers had found what right now seemed the end of what had been a great brotherly friendship.
And as for she herself, she had no clue what to do about the situation. She only knew that she cared about the two equally. And that she desperately wanted the two to come to friendly terms. That seemed well-nigh impossible at the moment. And that, more than anything else, was killing her inside.
She shifted again in her bed, and beside her a sigh was uttered.
"It hasn't grown any better, has it?" whispered Mattew in the darkness of the room.
Samantha wasn't surprised that her husband was awake all that time. With all of her squirming and the occasional difficulties the man had in finding sleep, he had probably been awake from the moment he had wished her a good night. Furthermore, he always seemed to know when something disturbed her, which was one of the qualities she loved most about him. Many were the times when she had been down or sad and he had simply come to her, sometimes to talk, sometimes to simply show that, whatever was wrong, he would be there.
Yes, she loved him for that. And she was glad he was there at this very moment to talk to.
"No, I can't say it has." she whispered back. "They look like they're making it just a little bit worse, everytime."
"Yeah. I f they keep this up, they'll eventually be unable to stand each other. And that scares me."
"Join the club."
"Jeremy wants it to end, however." Mattew mused. Samantha looked in his general direction.
"What do you mean?"
"Look at the fights themselves. Its always Tom who starts it by saying something spiteful or hurtful. More than that, Jeremy makes subtle ouvertures of friendship but is always rebuked angrily. So I think Jeremy wants it to end."
"And Tom doesn't?" she asked, bewildered and a little angry at him for thinking Thomas would volontarily keep up such a terrible situation. Her husband seemed to realise that for he became more soothing.
"Maybe not that much, but he still feels betrayed by Jeremy." he stopped and she could feel him consider something. "That, and he's also plain jealous."
"Jealous? Because Jeremy is better at school?" she asked, thought she suspected it was only scratching the surface. What her husband said confirmed it.
"Because he's better at just about everything the two share. Jeremy gets 80% on a test with only the most basic of studying, while it takes Tom great efforts to reach the same grade. Don't give me that look I know you're giving me, I'm just stating facts. Jeremy also beats our other boy at the winter sports. Tom is better at summer sports because his cousin has just about no interests in them. The worst comes from fighting skills. In that aspect, I'm afraid, Thomas can't even compete. He's very good and all, but Jeremy! He's just like his mother, a fountain of raw skills that just await refining. Except for me, no one in the dojo even comes close to him, even Tom. And Jeremy's skills just keep on getting better, while Tom has more or less reached his peak. He'll be a good fighter, but Jeremy will be an exceptional fighter. And I think that's what troubling our older boy the most."
"Wow." said Samantha with a low chuckle.
"Wow what?" asked Mattew.
"I think this is the longest speech you've done all week! I'm impressed you're not thirsty."
"Err...ah...well...just wanted to make everything clear." whispered Mattew a trifle uncomfortably.
"How long do you think it will last?" she asked more seriously.
Mattew shrugged. "I don't know. You guess is as good as mine. It won't get better anytime soon, that's a fact. And in the meantime...heheh...I know a few ways to get ourselves thinking about something else."
Samantha wondered for a moment what he meant by that. Then she felt something move under the sheets. She started, then gave off a whispered laugh.
"Why you big, perverted..." she began. Mattew just laughed at her completely fake indignation. "After all that serious talk of yours, you got the mind for that?!?"
"Well, why not? Its one of the best way to relieve stress. Very therapeutic and very amusing."
"Noisy, too." she said, and suddenly moved over her husband, who made no attempt of pushing her off. "But, why not? Its been a while since we seriously did it." she teased. The former fighter shifted a bit at that, pretending to be miffed.
"And what does that mean?!?" he asked peevishly.
"You know that. But now, I'll make up for it all tonight." she promised.
Mattew whistled. "That implies a lot of things."
"Believe them all, my love. Believe them all..."
The rest of the night was, well, relatively silent.
* * * * * * * * * *
Two weeks later...
One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Keep in focus. Don't lose it. Keep the beat. One, two, three, four.
Jeremy had more problems than usual in keeping up with his routine. Every saturday morning, at six, he ate four raw eggs (far more for the nutritional value than for the taste) and went throught two hundred push-ups, squats and sit-ups and a twenty-minutes streching meditation. Following that little bit of preparation (which would finish anyone lacking his sometimes unshakable stubborness) he ran in the snow for two miles to hone the strength of his legs and to boost his speed. It was a regimen of exercices he had taken after putting himself throught a training session that Alex, his rather immense friend, had thought rather easy. He had been so beat that he had known he had to step up his training by quite a few notches if he didn't want to get beaten to a pulp the day the two would engage all-out like they promised they would. And so the training had begun in earnest. He tried to squeeze all the strength, speed and energy in his body in order to upgrade these very three little by little. And it was working. Already, he was faster, stronger and possessed a far greater endurance than those who were considered 'normal' fourteen years old. And he planned on getting stronger.
But today, for some reason, he couldn't make it work just as well as the other times.
Scratch that, he told himself ruefully, you know EXACTLY why its not working. True enought. He was seeing Melissa today. And thinking of her made his training a paltry thing by comparison. Sometimes all he seemed to be able to think about was that red-haired, stunningly beautiful bit of a woman who - oh, lucky him! - had just happened to like him enought to date him. Not that he hadn't seen girls being attracted to him. His athletic body attracted more than one pair of female eyes. However, most of these gazes were for the body only, bypassing all the training and mind-focussing that had gone with it to shape it. Some, he had seen, took it all in stride, but he couldn't. His mild manners couldn't. And his damnable ethics certainly couldn't. He found he expected a lot in a relationship, and lost interest of those girls without these expectations rather quickly.
But then that girl had just come around and sat by him at the library, and had started talking to him with only slight lust in her eyes. That had pleased him, and so had the conversation, that had been very deep and centered on a variety of subjects, none of which touching martial arts or training. He soon found out that the girl had a very bright mind to match her looks. She talked about things that Jeremy sometimes had to run along fast to catch up with her trail of conversation. Her smile was dazzling, he soon found out. He really wondered why she bothered with him at all. After all, althought he was a good student, he wasn't a very social type. In fact he made a point to mildly put aside social situations. He just didn't feel like he fitted in those. And there he was making one of the most idle chats of his life. Even Claudia had never manged talks like those.
When it had been time to go back to class, she had just dropped, "I like your style, Jeremy Storm." which had left him to wonder about her all the rest of the day. The day afterward, they had chatted again. And the day after. By that time other students were starting to give them knowing smiles that made him uncomfortable. After all, he was just talking! What was wrong with that?!? He made a point to glare at any of those who gave him that look. It didn't work well. Althought Thomas had taken to being intimidating - which hadn't helped the smaller Storm in trying to make up with him - he had not, in fact had tried to be as non-threatening has a one who was known as the "Best Fighter In School" -an honour he hadn't sought or wanted - could be. All that he had managed to do, in fact, was to render the knowing looks even more knowing.
But his annoyance had faded when he started having real feelings about this girl. He felt better than anywhere else when with her, he found. Soon the conversations, stirred by his feelings - which she started to return - became more intimate. And then one day she just arrived, sat and asked him out. He had been struck speechless for one of the few times in his life, his brain understanding the information yet somehow refusing to let him show any reaction. He had managed to babble a vague affirmative. That they, he had announced his excitement to his Aunt -and almost beat Tom senseless for his ridiculous comment, how those fights were beginning to be frequent!. Two days later, they had gone to see a movie. They had been dating constantly ever since.
He sighed, slowing his pace as he came within sight of Mattew's dojo, still closed. He fished the spare key out of his pockets and jogged to the door. He unlocked it and stepped inside. No one. He wasn't surprised. Today was saturday, and Mattew always closed on saturday. However, he and Tom were free to use the place to train if need be. A few months before, he might have brought Tom along, too. But no more. Firstly, because he and the larger Storm were barely on speaking terms these days, and getting into a fight again was the last thing he wanted before going out on a date. The second reason was harder to admit. It was that Thomas no longer was really a match for him. He'd seen it more and more the past few months. Thomas was still learning to master some black belt - sometimes brown belt - techiniques, while he had only to refine them. Thanks to his grandfather, he was starting to understand and bring an inkling of control over his chi, while Tom obviously had no real talent for it. Yes, his skills were better than Tom's. It wasn't even egotism. After all, everyone could see it.
What he needed to sort this all out was to get himself some meditation. Yes, that was it. It always helped him before. It was a refreshing experience, being able to delve into the complex thrends of his mind and find peace.
He shrugged out of his winter outfit, removed his socks, and stepped on the tatamis, making the karate gesture of respect before doing so. Strange, one might say, that he'd have to do so when he was alone. In fact, he didn't. It just seemed the ethical thing to do. When ones does something respectful in front of others, he should also do so in front of oneself, he sometimes said about it to other karate students. Thinking about it, he found it no surprise some people found him strange.
Oh, well.
He sat cross-legged, took a few deep breaths to stabilise himself, then started to draw inside himself. He looked in his mind's eyes at all the colours of his emotions. Blue for sadness, red for pain, white for joy. All colours interwining and making him into what he was, who he was, and what he felt. He soon found the power that surrounded all these thoughts. Hi chi. All, according to his grandfather, had chi. Only few knew about it, fewer still knew how to tap it. He was glad to be among those, at least. And it wasn't because this could allow him to progress even farther as fighter, but rather because he could enjoy his own mind and come to a better underrstanding of himself. There, the chi starts to flow. He felt it, embraced it, let it overwhelm him. He closed his eyes and tasted in the blissful energies of his own inner self.
"HELP ME!"
The cry was so desperate and so strong that it fairly bashed him out of his trance, sending him crashing backward, clutching his skull. He tried to regain his inner calm, but now his very thoughts had been shaken by the urgency of the call. His head hurt and spun, forcing him to lie back. He heard a growling moan, and realized it was he himself who was making that noise.
After what seemed an eternity, his head stopped throbbing infernally, and he was able to think again clearly. However, his calm hadn't returned at all. Quite the opposite. He tried to de fine what he had felt. The voice - was it really a voice? - had been so deformed by fear that he was unable to put anything realistic on it. He thought it might be a female voice, but then again how could he be sure? He had never felt anything like it before.
He froze mentally. That wasn't true. He had felt something like this before. About two years ago, when he had tried to access his chi, he had also suffered a backlash. Only then there were strange, uncoherent sentences, much like a dream. It had shaken him badly, so badly he had stopped his attempts for months. However, in time he had come to think of it all as an hallucination brought by his unwise methods and an overactive imagination.
Well, scratch that this time. Whatever that had been, it had been all too real to be a trick of his imagination. Never in all his life had he heard such fright in someone. Even the best of actors he saw in thrillers and other movies didn't come close to the raw despair, the absolute terror, he had felt in the words 'help me'. He found that he really wished to help that person. Very much so. But he had no idea where this person might be. Or WHO she was. Or even if it was really a SHE. But he knew that something terrible was happening to someone, somewhere. What could be done to that person, obviously someone who understood chi at least a little, to generate such abject terror? He shuddered. The possibilities weren't very rejoicing.
Great, that's it, he thought unhappily, my day is ruined. I won't be thinking of Melissa now, but of that person who's obviously in drastic brands of troubles. Life really knew how to make things hard on someone sometimes. There was no way he'd get his meditation now, with all of his internal questioning. At least his head didn't hurt like the last time this had happened. But his wits still felt scattered. He got up, and assumed a fighting stance. If he couldn't do meditation, he'd do a few katas, which were just as satisfying if not as psychically refreshing. After the first few moves, however, he didn't lose himself to the flow of movements but once again to his own questionning.
Okay, first time this happened I heard myself - or a slightly older myself - saying a few sentences that were rather incoherent. I could almost feel it was a dream. He frowned, his movements breaking up as he lost his concentration. But I'd swear on anything that this voice was REAL. That plea was real. And it wasn't something that happened in the future, but right now. Which meant there was no way he could help. Even if he knew who it was, the chances he'd be close enought to help would be impossible. And the impossible had always grated him to no ends. He supposed it might be a blessing, for that way of thinking had been what had made augment his skills constantly. After all, he was very close, his grand-father had admitted, to being able to master the Eagle Strike. And from the hints he had received, there were other techniques waiting after that, techniques that even his uncle didn't know. He found he couldn't wait.
But right now, hie inability to accept something as impossible was nothing short of a curse.
While he had been thinking that hard, his body had continued the complicated kata, but not as perfectly as it should have been, indeed would have been, if he'd been paying attention. In fact, at one point he went a bit to close to the wall and, his mind not registering that fact, his hand shot out and went smack against the wall. Jeremy broke up his kata immediately, crying out and rubbing his hand, and he would have cursed himself if it hadn't felt it rather blasphemous to curse on a training tatami. As he was rubbing his rather wounded hand, he heard soft laughter and looked in that direction, dismayed that he hadn't felt a presence before. He expected to find Tom, and prepared for another verbal fight.
Instead he saw Claudia, wso was sitting just beside the traning field, looking at him in merriment. Althought he relaxed at knowing it there wouldn't be a fight, he also reddened in silent shame at his fumbling, which was inexcusable by the standards he was trying hard to attain. Claudia obviously saw this, but he still tried to maintain his dignity.
"I shouldn't have tried it so close to the wall." he deadpanned.
"You shouldn't have lost your concentration, you mean. I'm not an idiot, Sir Storm." Drat, she had seen it. Nothing left but salvage now.
"And I don't think you are, Lady Levenson. I was just trying to look a little less the fool."
"You failed that."
"Which is why I was trying to be flattering."
"Failed that, too!"
"My, aren't you merciful today." he sighed. Then a thought struck him. "Been here long?"
She shook her head. "Nah. Just came 'round a few seconds before you smashed up your hand."
He nodded, relieved. She hadn't seen his little hysterics. Good. The last thing he needed was to explain those to her. "So what brought you here? Except the need to make me feel like a fool, I mean."
She swept her her blond locks off of her forehead. Even in a winter parka, she was stunning, and becoming more so by the day. She could have had any guy at school without the shadow of a problem. However...
"I got a letter from Alex today!" she declared excitedly, with wide, happy eyes.
However, she had gotten hitched - and badly - by someone who lived about a hundred miles down south. And he supposed he was to blame, thought he didn't feel bad about it. When, after the disastrous tournament, he had dragged the young wrestler to meet his friends, it had taken about fifteen minutes before Both Nathan and him had felt that they were disrupting some kind of very sappy romance. That Claudia had spent just about every single moment glued - if it was possible, fused - to Alex, to the big blond's obvious bliss, hadn't escaped the notice of either of the smaller boys. The soirée had thus been quite a bit a miracle for a boy and a girl, and a very weird experience for two other young males. And it had continued. And it was still continuing. Even thought he lived a hundred miles south. Even thought he couldn't visit more than once a month - during which Jeremy, who styled himself his friend, saw him little. Even thought all that they had were letters. Wow. He really couldn't do anything but admire the tenacity of their bond. He hoped the same with Melissa. But it was still a bit early to make any plans on that.
"So, what did that mobile mountain write you, huh?" changing the subject and the flow of his thoughts at the same time. She flushed slightly, and he couldn't help but grin "Except the oh-so-personal parts, of course." he added with a wry tint in his voice
"Hum...he's just fine. He told me he gotta part-time job at a flower shop."
"Whaa? A flower shop?!? Him?!?"
Jeremy desperatly tried to live with the mental image of the enormous sixteen-year old cheerfully selling flowers, but immediately found that it was so hilarious he just couldn't and despite himself, he started to giggle like a fool. Probably burning steamed at him for making fun of her "perfect" boyfriend, Claudia shot him a dark look. It didn't help. Truth be told, it only made matters worse. From giggles he erupted into guffaws that litterally shook the rafters. He laughed so hard, but it felt so good, it had been such a long while since he had had a long laugh like that. He soon found himself flat on his back, with the ceiling his only sight. He remained there, enjoying the relaxation and frantically trying to stiffle his mirth.
"I should've known you'd react like that." she growled. "He wrote you would, too, you know."
"Hehehe...And...hee...he was right, like always." He put his hands behind his head and sighed deeply. "Thanks for telling me, though. I really needed the laugh."
She looked at him with a very shrewed look, her usual naive facade fading very quickly. This was one of Claudia's most useful trick: she could show an happy, airhead-like outlook to people who didn't know her, therefore giving those a superior - and reckless - feel that she often used against those who really irked her. With her friends, however, she used it to make them relax. This was one of the reasons that he was so often so glad she was his friend before, that he was close to this beautiful, cheerful but deceptively intelligent blond. This was one of those times.
"Is it Tom?" she asked.
It wasn't. Not this time. But then again, she couldn't know about his...what were they anyway, experiences? Only his grandfather knew, because he was the only one who seemed to understand it a bit of what was happening. Jeremy knew he didn't. But Tom was another problem he had, one that he easily could tell her about. He doubted it would change anything, but at least he could clear the air a little bit. After all, Nate and Claudia had stuck by him and not Tom when things had gotten hot after the tournament. He knew he talk to them.
"I must say that yeah, its partly him." He hurried on before she could ask about the unknown 'parts'. "I don't know how to take him anymore, Claudia. These days, I can't seem to even be able to see his face without getting into a shouting match."
"You, shout?" she smiled. "Jer, that's not your style."
"No, its definitely not my style. Usually. Most of the time. Except with him." he replied.
"Can't you two just sit and talk it over like grown-ups, you know?"
"I'm afraid its a big no-can-do. We both refused to apologise. I'm no better there. We both think we are right. And most of all, we're both as stubborn as bulls chasing after a red flag! How can we sit quietly in the same room, even more so, how to talk over that?. Its sad, you know, but I really don't think we'll forgive each other pretty soon. We're just both like that. No more, no less." he looked away.
He knew Claudia was looking at him soberly, her soft features an image of concern. "That's one big shame, you know." she finally stated, obviously feeling Jeremy's conflicting anger and deep sadness.
He only nodded, his face completly shadowed but showing that very conflict. Silence now reigned in the dojo. It became so thick that finally Claudia, as he had known, couldn't bear it and broke it again.
"By the way, while we're talking about fighting, when are you going to start testing those skills of yours?"
That took him by surprise. Of all people, he hadn't thought that she would be the one to bring that up. Mattew, yes. Grandpa, yes. Tom, well, maybe. Even Nathan. But not Claudia. Maybe it was because Alex was her boyfriend. He couldn't be sure. But he had to admit that the question had merits. Lots of that. He simply wasn't sure of how to answer it right now. Sure, he liked having those ever-increasing skills and seeing his training pay off, but to go out on the streets to challenge strong fighters, like his uncle and his parents had done...it just seemed a big step to take. Maybe too big.
"Bah. Dunno about that. As soon as I feel like it. Maybe when I feel I gotta reason to." he shrugged noncommitally. "Did Alex ask about that? Or was it just an idea you got all of a sudden?"
"About asking this? Its all mine. But I know Alex wants to know about it. He's told me he'd like to slug it out good with you when you think you're ready, when you're at you're max and 'pumped up'."
Jeremy laughed softly. "He WOULD say that, huh?!? I'll hint it to him that it'll happen eventually but that I can't make promises as to the exact time I'll be 'pumped up'. He'll just have to be patient for a while."
Claudia nodded at him as he turned to finally look in her direction. Then her stance assumed a much more lecherous outlook. It made Jeremy worry. He soon found the reason for that, however. "Now that all that is settled, what are you going to do with Melissa tonight." she asked with a strange smile.
"Certainly nothing that's worth what's going throught that perverted little mind of yours, you blond Machiavel! Alex is lucky to have you, but he'll suffer so much with you that I pity him!" he exclaimed.
"Oh, come ooon! As if nothing's going on inside YOUR mind!" she teased.
He turned red. "W-w-ell...only because you just put those thoughts into me!"
"Yeah, right!"
"CLAUDIA!!!!"
* * * * * * * * * *
That evening...
Three guys were strolling outside, unaware of the cold and the companionship of true friends. It wasn't a very cold night anyway. Perfect to hang out into town and wash away their trouble behind a few quaffs of strong beverage. Not that they were drunk, mind you. They were in full possession of their wits. Which is the reason one of them, looking around while he smiled from a particularly funny joke told by one of his friends, noticed the crumpled and prone form that was just beside the walkway. Had he been looking just a bit elsewhere, he would've missed it. As it was, he almost thought it was an homeless person sleeping on the street - althought he would have found a better place than that! - before he noticed that the clothes were way too....clean, for lack of a better word, to be the property of an homeless person. He squinted at the figure and went over to look at it. His friends, who had been ahead, stopped whenthey realized he wasn't in the immediate area and looked for him. They soon spotted him, and walked over to him.
"Hey, Max! No fair leaving us like that without saying a word!!" laughed one.
"Just for that, the next drinks will be on you!" stated the other with a cackle.
The guy named Max wasn't really paying attention to them. He went closer to the figure. Maybe the person had passed out from drinking too much. He had, once or twice, when he had been out partying before. Or maybe it was something worse. Not a good thought that. Extremely ugly. But unavoidable in the circumstances. He stooped over the person, gave a nudge. Nothing. Feeling like a fool, really not knowing what he'd say if the person was just drunk, he gently pushed the face towards the hazy light of the street lamp, just to make out the situation better.
His friends, still a distance away, couldn't see what he was doing, and subsequently grew tired of what to them seemed a complete waste of time that could be spent doing better things like drinking and laughing at jokes and flirting with pretty girls.
"Come on, man! The guy's just sleeping off some booze. He'll wake up with a headache and no more than that!" one grumbled.
"Yeah, but maybe he'd get hurt during the night. And for all that, it'll get cold during the night." noted the other.
"Aw, come on! What do you want us to do 'bout it? Invite the guy home?!? Or maybe, if its a gal, you'd prefer!"
"SHIT!"
Max's shout brought the two out of their petty fight and smack back into the real world. They saw their, friend, just a few meters away now, backpedalling as if he'd been bitten by a huge snake. He was shaking his head quickly, as if trying to deny what he had just seen. The two men exchanged a worried galance, then, their stomachs beginning to clench in a unidentifiable dread, they sprinted the distance and reached him in a mere moment.
"Hey, man, what's wrong?" asked the one who, just a second before, had been all for letting a drunken person freeze at night. Max didn't answer, just stared ahead toward the prone person. Both men trudged forward, anticipation and curiosity overtaking them. Only a few steps, and then they saw things clearer. Then they understood their friend completely. They really didn't want to, but they did.
"Holy...of all the...this is...this is inhuman!" croaked one.
Max, at that, started to come to his sense. He looked at his friends. "We gotta go get an ambulance. Get help! Watch him, okay?" He sped towards the nearest lighted door. His friends stared after him for a moment, then, reluctantly, looked back at the form.
"Sure. But, in his state, he won't be moving much."
* * * * * * * * * *
Unseen from the men, a figure stood in the darkness, looking over at things with sadistic amusement. How wussy people could be. Show them something just a little bit harsh and they scatter. These men had no spirit, ni inner fire, no will to fight. Not worthy of his time. Anyway, he wasn't as angry at them as he had been with his latest plaything. Now, that one had fought. Desperately. Tooth and nail. With every once of his being. Now that, the figure respected.
Very brave.
Very honorable.
Quite futile. But it had been fun.
The figure felt no remorse over what it had done. It had to be done. The victim knew far too much, had betrayed the trust of a friend. Such a fiend deserved punishment. Deserved the most atrocious of deaths. Peaceful, cleansing death. Such a moving moment, to feel the victim at your mercy, and to know - oh yes, to know - that you will clean her of the betrayal that has darkened her soul. It wasn't something people seemed to understand, to his growing surprise. Still, the figure thought, hadn't it once been like this - unknowing of the severe nature of betrayal. Of the evil nature of betraying wills? Of the fate of death as part of the cleansing of the soul. Probably. It thought so. But it was in a time long gone, now. A time when youth dilluted betrayal.
Thankfully, he saw things clearly, now.
One of the three men squeaked "...this is...this is inhuman!" The figure smirked. Blind fool! What he had done was the only thing he could have done, the most humane thing, the most merciful. But how could such simpletons know? How could anyone know. They didn't see the truth. They never saw the burning of betrayal, the joy of revenge and death's cleansing. Inhuman? Inhuman? What could be more human but to save a soul that had lost its way to betrayal. It was written. It had to be. It is the only truth.
As the figure moved away, unseen, it kept mumbling the same sentence, over and over, like a litany.
It is ONLY truth.
* * * * * * * * * *
A few hours later...
Melissa Chastel was as happy as she could get. After weeks of hints and secondhand remarks, Jeremy had finally agreed to a full date with her. It wasn't an easy task. Sometimes she had had to hint things far too openly for her taste, and he had been nearly clueless. At first disappointed and frustrated, she soon found out that her would-be boyfriend wasn't really clueless about her intentions, but was just searching for the best way to reciprocate. After learning this, she decided to become even more direct in her dealings with him, something she had felt that he greatly liked. Obviously Jeremy Storm wasn't a big fan of innuendos and dubious hints.
Althought they had seen each other outside of school before, this was the first time she had gotten him to commit an entire evening to her, something that she felt as a great victory. After all he had once summerized his life as fourty percent training and thirty for anything else, and thirty percent sleeping. She had found that it was only too true, as she heard that, of all the school, he was by far the best when it came down to hand-to-hand combat, and a first-rate athlete that team captains actually fought to have in their team. Not that he cared much about sports, as long as they didn't interfere with his martial arts. The fanatic - Jeremy balked when he heard her use that word, but she felt it was true - way he had of training had given him a lean, muscled body that, added to his reserved looks and grey eyes, made many a female head turn. She certainly wasn't an exception to that rule, althought she herself, she knew, wasn't too bad in the way of looks.
But there were other cute guys. So why this one? That was a question she was often asked. Her answer was the same every time.
It was first because Jeremy had a great sense of right and wrong, but made concessions for a bit of grey - not much, of course, but more than many a boy did at fourteen! He also was extremely mild-mannered in conversations, rarely bragging or harsh. That she had liked a lot about him. But what she had liked the most was the degree of devotion he gave to what he believed in. He believed friendship was important, and thus was exceptionally close to his - especially the naive blonds and the thin, long haired boy. What were the names? Ah, yes, Claudia and Nathan. He was always there for them, no matter what. It was that devotion that she found she craved. That she was starting to get it made her almost extatic.
This night had been perfect. First they had taken a bite at a nice place, then they had gone to see that movie, Groundhog Day, they had both laughed at Bill Murray's antics. And now they were going, heedless of the cold, to a teen disco nearby. Yes, it was perfect.
"I liked that movie. Pretty funny, no?" she asked.
"Huh? Ah, yes, it was." he said absent-mindedly. He really had the look of someone who was entirely elsewhere. Frowning, she tried to bring back the warmth that had been there in the theatre. What could he be thinking, anyway?
"The part about the insurance agent, wasn't it pretty good?" she asked, trying again.
He only nodded ansent-mindedly. Melissa started to feel quite a bit frustrated. They were on a date, for Heaven' Sake! That meant a minimum of conversation. But nooo, her date had to go and play the introspective act. One fault of his, too much introspection. A very big fault and a supremely annoying one. She smiled to herself. If that was the way it was...fine.
"Did you like the part with the snowman?"
"Sure."
"Don't you think it'd be fun to be stuck in the same day, over and over?"
"Yeah, of course."
"Do you want me to kiss you?"
"Huh, huh, sure. Wha...mmm!"
She kissed him full on the lips right then and there, not caring a bit if the situation was as unromantic as it could get, with them in winter gear, freezing, and passerby giving them looks ranging from amused to irritated. He stood rigid, visibly thunderstruck by the sudden turn of events. But, for a moment, he responded tentatively, before finally coming to his senses and disengaging himself. He was as red as an apple and she knew with secret amusement that it wasn't because of the cold. There! Try to ignore THAT!!!
For a moment, he stood there motionless, before finally bursting out. "What was that for?!? Not that I MIND but, still, a little warning would be nice."
"You did have a warning. I asked you and you said sure." she retorted.
"Really? Guess I wasn't paying attention. Sorry."
She shook her head. "And what were you thinking about? How to become the World's Strongest Fighter?"
He smiled. There was a sad quality to that smile. "Nothing so grand. I was just thinking that, only a year ago, I would have gone with my cousin to see that movie. Now I can't ask the time of day of him."
"Oh." was all she said. She was uncomfortable with anything regarding the cousin. There was something about him she didn't like. Something harsh in his eyes that Jeremy lacked. She never said so, but the guy litterally gave her the shivers. She decided to let the matter drop.
"Okay. But now focus on ME, right? I don't want you to step all over me when we dance because you're distracted!"
"Yes, sir!" he said ironically, making a vague salute. They both laughed, and the moment of uncertainty passed.
The walk to the disco was interrupted, however. Before they were even there halfway, they heard a frantic voice and saw, to their surprise, Claudia running towards them. Melissa, thinking she had decided to join them on a whim, was more than a little displeased. Althought she liked what she knew of the blonde, she had that capacity to control Jeremy and Nathan that could be downright scary.
However, as she came closer, she saw that the blonde girl wasn't there for the fun of it. Her winter clothes were a bit haphazard, which showed she had put her clothes on very quickly. But what struck Melissa was her face. Streaked with tears, her face was haggard and had a wild look to it. There was shock on that face. And fear. And something else. Horror. No, whatever brought her here was deadly serious.
Obviously, Jeremy had come to the same conclusion, for he seemed quite worried. He opened his mouth to say something, but didn't get the chance to say anything before he was rammed by a way smaller body than his. He tried to make sense of Claudia, as Melissa also tried to, while the blonde clung to him desperately, alternately sobbing and shrieking, her words tumbling over each other and absolutely incoherent. Jeremy finally gripped her firmly.
"Calm down, Claudia! Calm down! What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong!!" he shouted, finally manging to break her out of her hysteria.
"God. Ohgodohgod! Jer. Nate! Nate! It's horrible!!" she screamed. People were starting to come and see. The trio ignored them.
"What about Nate? What's happened?" he asked worriedly.
"Nate! He got beaten! Beaten like a dog! Its horrible! His face..." she broke into sobs.
"Beaten? Nate? How bad?" he asked. Her sobs gave him answers enough. He hugged her tightly. Then he looked at Melissa with worried grave eyes. "Sorry, Melissa. I gotta go see what's happened."
Melissa nodded. "I'll go with you."
Jeremy shook his head. "You don't need to do that. I don't want to ruin the rest of your day." he said.
"Too late for that. I'm going" she stated firmly.
He only nodded to her before turning his attention back to Claudia. The girl was still sobbing. What could have happened? How was Nathan really? Alive? Dead? These questions, Jeremy was certainly asking himself. And they would certainly found the answers to those soon enough.
That they wouldn't like them, she was, looking at the whreck called Claudia Levenson, absolutely certain.
_______________________________________________________________________
That's it for this chapter! I know, no action to speak of, only plot lines. Next chapter, I promise, will contain more bashing. But remember, I'm trying to explain the characters so that people will understand why they act this or that way when they really are amongst the World Warriors we know.
Any input or ideas would be GREATLY APPRECIATED!
See ya soon!
Jeremy
