Chapter Three – Woodbrior Boys
—
"Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!" Rezzie said repeatedly as he was picking up laundry off his floor, "Why on earth did I wait until now to get on this? Freaking stupid!"
The weekend has come and Rezzie was frantic. His friends would be over shortly, if not at any given moment, and his room was a disaster. His bed was unmade, there was laundry all over the floor, his desk was in a clutter, and he hadn't emptied his trash can. He had been putting it off for some time now, and it would be embarrassing for him to try and explain why his room was a wreck.
One of Rezzie's personal problems, to his own admission, is that he tends to be a slob when it comes to his bedroom. It was a problem that he's had ever since he was a child. While he certainly knows how to be organized and neat, he is just lazy and disorganized about it all. While he's known about this day to be coming for some time now, he has been putting it off so much over the last few days. Now that the chickens will be coming home to roost, he's regretting not getting on it sooner.
Repositioning his laundry hamper, he proceeded to force-feed the dirty laundry off from the floor into the hamper. Every so often he would push it in there with two hands in order to compress it and give it more room. After a couple of quick minutes, he got the last bit of the laundry off the floor and placed it in the corner of his room out of sight and out of mind. Maneuvering over to his desk, he straightened it up by doing things such as throwing away useless papers and putting pens and coins where they belong. In about five minutes, it looked as if there wasn't a train wreck recreated on the surface of his desk.
The next thing on his list was his bed. It looked in such a disarray with all the covers in one bundle in the center of the bed and pillows strewn about around it. Setting the pillows on the computer chair, he untangled the covers and laid them neatly atop of the bed. After making the bed, he uncovered the back end of the covers, put the first layer of pillows down, refolded the covers over the pillows before putting the larger sets of pillows on top. Smoothing over the surface, he got his bed made.
Finally, he approached his trash bin and pulled out the bag that was holding the garbage inside. Tying the bag up, he made his way over to the kitchen, opened the drawers underneath the sink, and tossed the bag into the kitchen trash can. Closing those drawers, he opened up another and pulled out a fresh trash bag and a spray can of lemon air freshener. Making his way back into his room, he put in the trash bag in his bin and sprayed the inside of his room with freshener. After several seconds, he looked around and nodded in satisfaction at a job well done. While it wasn't his best work, it looked pretty good for a rush job.
Exiting his room, he went towards the kitchen again and saw his mother there with a catalog for a pizza delivery joint. Whenever Rezzie had friends over for one of his get-togethers, he and his family typically order out and get food for all of them and Rezzie's friends. It varied from time to time with different delivery food services, but for the most part it was usually pizza.
Noticing her son entering the kitchen, she turned to him and asked, "Hey, Rezzie, how many people are we expecting today?"
"About half a dozen or so," Rezzie answered as he put away the air freshener can "we got a half decent crowd today. No one flaked this time around."
"All right, that sounds good to me. I think we'll get away with five or six pizzas. You got 40 dollars to cover the costs?"
"Of course," Rezzie pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed her two twenty dollar bills, "That should be enough right?"
"Yep, that will do it. Thank you. Is your room all spiffed up? You guys will be in there most of the time."
"Yep, just got done with it a couple of minutes ago."
"Very good. Once the food comes in, everything should be ready to go."
"Thanks mom, you're the best."
Rezzie hugged his mom before heading on back into his room. He kept the door and the window open in order to air it out of any sort of odors that didn't get taken out by the spray. Deciding to do some last-minute maintenance, he approached the sword rack that was hanging above his laundry hamper. He remembered long ago that his parents disparaged him for having an interest in swords. But courtesy to him sticking to his guns, some well invested money, and a very supportive grandmother during the Christmas holidays, he had a half-decent collection of swords started up.
His personal favorite was a modernized high-carbon wakizashi that he found online a year ago. What made it unique was that it had an elongated hilt so that it could be held with two hands if needed be, and a slightly longer blade than usual. He fell in love with the blade because it's height made it almost perfect for him to use. Deciding to get himself more attuned with it, he decided to take it outside for some practice.
As Rezzie made his way to the back door, he opened it and exited out onto the back patio onto the back yard. He had to take the time to appreciate the fact that their yard was wide open and expansive. Most people in their neighborhood usually had a swimming pool or a trailer in the bac, which made their yards small. But his family didn't need anything like that, since Rezzie's grandmother already had a swimming pool in her back yard. With their yard being wide open, as well as it being around nature, it reminded him of home on occasions.
Stepping out into the middle of the yard, he drew the blade from the lacquered sheath and tossed it down onto the grass out of the way. When he was a child, he was half-way decent despite being so young. Now that he had reached manhood and had practiced considerably and consistently over the years he spent in the capitol, he had studied several styles of swordplay and became a force to be reckoned with. Many different people that were friends of his friends, dozens that Rezzie could recall, had come and gone through his house to challenge him. Every now and then they host little impromptu tournaments between themselves.
Rezzie began to use numerous arts of swordplay, switching through different stances and styles as he swung his blade. Utilizing different spins and flips with each variation and switch, he felt like a bird in flight with his craft. He made sure to move carefully as to not strike himself with the blade, as the high-carbon steel edge was extremely sharp and one wrong move could cut him deeply to the point where he would either need surgery or worse – an amputation.
After several minutes of practice, he heard the back door open and whirled around to face the source. It revealed to be Nesha and Smith coming out onto the back patio. Rezzie figured that his mom let them in and told them where he was. The swordsman walked over to his sheath and sheathed his sword, his face beet red. He never was one much who enjoyed an audience when training. He preferred to practice alone, away from prying eyes.
"You were looking pretty damn good out there, Rezzie," complimented Nesha, "I swear, you never seem to lost a step."
"Hey guys, sorry you had to see that," Rezzie grinned sheepishly as he approached them, laying the blade on the glass table, "You guys been well? I'm guessing Titan couldn't make it huh?"
"Yeah, the morning's been good. Titan had a doctor's appointment to go to. Hey, is it all right if I join you in some training?" Nesha asked as he stroked his chin, "it's been a while since I practiced. When Bellinger shows up, I wanna be in good form to win against him."
"Sure. You know where they're stashed at. Go and get them," Rezzie answered and made a waving motion with his hand.
As Nesha ran inside to get the training swords out of Rezzie's room, Smith finally spoke, "Holy crap, man, how long have you learned how to do all of that?" Smith asked, surprised, "doing all of that must've taken you years to do."
"A little over 16 years now," answered Rezzie as he sat down in one of the chairs, " I first got into it when I was three. Started off with swinging around a stick. After that it just grew on me. Now here I am."
"What? Over 16 years? Jesus, you've been doing it for about as long as I've been alive! That's insane!" Smith eyed Rezzie's wakizashi, a glint in his eye, "you mind if I check it out?"
"Sure, knock yourself out. Just don't break anything," Rezzie paused for a moment and looked at Smith, "Wait, you're still in high school? I could've sworn you were almost twenty, same as us!"
"Nah, I'll be starting my junior year once summer vacation ends," answered Smith as he drew the sword, admiring the blade, "So, how long have you known Nesha and Titan for?"
"Four years, give or take. What about you?"
"Same. You into playing instruments as well or no?"
"Used to when I was a kid. Worked with woodwind instruments. After coming down here to the capitol, I lost my taste for the game after some band mates decided to trash my stuff. Now I prefer to listen to other people play," Rezzie frowned, feeling a bit sore on the subject, "Since you brought us on the subject, I'm guessing that you play guitar as well, same as Nesha?"
"Yep, I've started back in middle school and been playing ever since. I'd love to get into a band when the time comes, make it big," Austin looked up witih a smile on hish face, daydreaming a bit about his ambitions.
Rezzie let out a laugh and stretched out his arms, "You and Nesha are a lot alike, I can see why you two are such good friends."
Nesha came out of the back door holding three bamboo training swords in both of his hands. In technically, they belonged to Bellinger as he bought them. The reason Rezzie has them is because since they competed so much here that he decided to leave them here for everyone to use. Rezzie had hard plastic training swords that he himself trained with , but with them being so dense they were capable of really hurting people to the point of breaking bones. Therefore, they used Bellinger's training swords instead for contests.
"Hey, Rezzie, are you ready?" Nesha asked as he tossed his teacher a training sword and leaned another one on the table.
Catching it in his hand, Rezzie grinned, "I'm ready whenever you are."
"And for the love of God, please don't kick my ass too badly. I don't want any more welts."
"I'll try my best to take it easy, but don't expect me to make any promises.
The two stepped off the patio and made their way to the center of the back yard. As Rezzie swung the sword through the air a few times to get himself attuned to the lightness of the weapon, Nesha got himself into a sword stance, already ready to go. Rezzie smiled, he admired Nesha's ambitious nature at times. Turning to face his training partner, he leaned the bamboo sword over his shoulder.
"For now I will only defend, not attack. For this test we will focus on testing your stamina, your technique and your dexterity," Rezzie spoke clearly with a hard tone in his voice, catching Nesha's attention, "The training ends when you land a blow on me or when you quit, whichever comes first. Are you ready?"
"Hell yeah, let's do this!" Nesha said as he rushed forward at his teacher, "here I come!"
"That's the spirit!"
Nesha aimed numerous strikes and slashes from high and low, which Rezzie either dodged or blocked. They were all basic textbook motions that he was using, going off what he had learned so far. After the next combination, Rezzie leapt back and circled around him, gauging his distance and Nesha's movements carefully. His plan was to make Nesha chase him around for as long as he can while tiring him out. It was the same style that he used when he faced Randall three days ago when they broke into his house.
As he expect, Nesha rushed after him, leapt into the air and aimed a spinning strike downward at Rezzie, only for him to roll underneath the strike and spin around to face him again. After cutting lose another combination of strikes, he leapt back and aimed a thrusting stab at his teacher. Blocking the combination, he narrowly dodged the stab by taking a sharp jump to the right and leapt back again, keeping up the distance in order to jerk Nesha around.
This pattern lasted for about three minutes before Nesha finally stopped and fell to his knees, panting. He had sweat beating down on his face as he had a hard time trying to catch his breath. Seeing this as the end of the session, but at the same time being cautious, he kept a good five yards distance as a precaution.
"So, I guess you had enough?" Rezzie asked, cocking his head.
"Yeah, I'm beat," Nesha answered before slowly rising to his feet, using the bamboo sword to prop himself up, "Dude, you move around way too much. I keep having to chase you down."
"Of course. If you want your meal, the least I can make you can do is work for it," Rezzie chuckled as he stepped forward, "The good news is that your striking power, your speed and your form is on point. But the problem is that you lack stamina. Bellinger has trained for a long time as well, so if he wins it'll be solely because of his experience. However, at the very least you'll be able have a good showing against him. With luck on your side, you will win."
"Wait, only because of experience? Why do you say that?" Nesha asked, confused.
"You'll see when he and the rest of the goon squad shows up," Rezzie gave a light grin.
After a few minutes of the trio conversing amongst themselves, the back door opened as four people stepped out of the patio. The first man, Bellinger, was a short, stocky man, shorter than even Rezzie. He had curly red hair and pale skin. He was wearing a white sleeveless sweater over a black tank top and black shorts. One peculiar thing about him was that his teeth were messed up an crooked, likely from them growing in wrong. The second man, Love, was an overweight man around Rezzie's height. He had pale skin, raven black hair that looked like it had more pampering to it than the rest of his body. He wore a black t-shirt and black skinny jeans, something that Rezzie internally cringed at due to it being hot out.
The third man, Markham, was an individual that Rezzie personally didn't like associating with. The only reason he tolerated him was for Bellinger's sake. He had short, brown hair, peach-colored skin and was wearing a blue tank top and black shorts. However, he had a horrifying case of psoriasis that covered the entirety of his face and refused to undergo treatment for. Their gang often japed that he was afflicted with leprosy. The fourth man was someone that Rezzie never seen before in a day of his life. He was a head taller than Rezzie, had scruffy black hair, a muscular build and a face that looked like a caveman out of the stone age. He wore a light blue shirt and gray shorts.
"What's good, bitches?" Bellinger grinned as he held his arms out in embrace.
"Good to see you all gentlemen. Eh…and who is this guy?" Rezzie looked over at the fourth man, raising an eyebrow at him."
"This is Eric. He's a friend of Bellinger and I," Markham explained, "He is a competitive Renaissance fighter for the tournament melees. He's currently ranked third in the country. I told him about you and it piqued his interests."
"Wait, you're a pro?" Nesha asked, surprised, "Well this should be fun to watch."
"Yep! So, any of you want to start? Best of nine, strictly sword strikes," Bellinger asked, a sly smile on his face.
"I'll sit this one out. I haven't eaten anything yet so I'm gonna go grab some pizza in a few minutes since it just came in," Love answered, sitting down in the chair and leaning back slightly..
"Wait, the food came in already? Nice!" Smith rose up and went into the house, shouting, "I smell bacon!"
"DIBS!" Nesha and Rezzie shouted at the same time as they both rose up, placed their bamboo swords on the table, and jetted inside, leaving the four that just arrived out alone.
"So, what about you? Shall we get started?" Bellinger looked over at Eric, cocking his head.
"Do lets," Eric smiled as the two picked up the bamboo swords and stepped onto the grass.
—
The three young men were in the kitchen with a half a dozen boxes of pizza on the kitchen counter. Rezzie only had about one slice for the time being while Nesha and Smith had three slices of bacon pizza apiece. The reason Rezzie was being frugal right now because he intended on facing either Bellinger or Eric in a few minutes, so he didn't want to be weighed down by food.
Rezzie decided to initiate some small talk, "So, you two been working on any sort of songs lately?" Rezzie asked as he took a bite out of pizza.
"Oh yeah, I've been making gains on that front. We've also been working on a couple of songs for our band, so we've been working very hard lately," Nesha answered before wolfing down on a n slice of pizza.
"No kidding? You guys are starting a band?" Rezzie's eyes widened in surprise.
"Hell yeah, right now we need a bass player and a drummer. We did have a guy on bass, but we're considering scrapping him because he's been unreliable lately and doesn't come to practice," Smith answered, looking dejected.
"What a shame," Rezzie frowned as he finished his slice, "Speaking of shames, there's something we need to talk about. I'm sure you all have looked into the news report on Randall and the job we did?"
"No, we haven't. It actually made the news?" Nesha asked with an uneasy expression on his face as he and Smith simultaneously stopped eating, "what can you give tell us about it?"
"In a nutshell, the cops were alerted and arrived on the scene shortly after we left. Since they found drugs in their house, so redhead and his wife got locked up. Their daughter is with her grandparents now," Rezzie explained as he looked between his two compatriots, "as for Randall, he bounced before they showed up, but not without leaving peeled chunks of his face behind. Since he's on the run, I can only suspect that he'll be going after you two and Titan."
Nesha and Smith had serious expressions on their faces. They didn't expect things to get out of hand like this. Now Randall will be coming for them and they don't know when, where or how. The kitchen fell silent for a minute or so before Nesha looked over at Rezzie, confused. Their bearer of bad news seemed a lot less nervous than he should be.
"Wait, what about you? You're the one that beat his ass, he should be going after you first!" Nesha noted as he pointed at the swordsman.
"He doesn't know who I am or where I live, and since I had parts of my face covered he doesn't know what I look like either," Rezzie answered as he took another bite of his pizza, "the best way he'll be getting to me is to get to you guys first. But don't worry, I won't let that happen. I made the mess, I'll be cleaning it up."
"Wrong, we'll do it together," Smith answered with a confident expression on his face, "Randall may be a cockroach, but we can take him without a sweat."
"'Hell yeah!" Nesha nodded in agreement as he ate another slice of his pizza.
Rezzie smiled at the two, feeling better than he did going into the situation. He was really glad that he had such good friends these days. He remembered for the better part of his childhood that he hardly had many, if any, friends. When he moved to the capitol with his family, he had to leave his friends and his old life behind in order to start anew. Fortunately he had the good fortune of being able to get in with a decent bunch of kids when he settled in. They were such good friends that they were willing to fight and die for one another, and in his heart he couldn't ask for anything better than that.
Rezzie then decided to take a detour from the conversation, "So, what's up with that guy Markham brought with him? I think he is hyping the man a bit too much for my liking."
"I noticed that, too. Knowing scale-dick, he's likely embellishing," Nesha rolled his eyes, grinning.
Rezzie's ears perked to the sound of wood clacking outside, "It sounds like they're really going at it back there. Ya know what, I think I'm gonna go out there and find out myself."
Rezzie politely excused himself from the kitchen table and went out the back door to see what the noise was about. What he saw was Bellinger panting as he was getting pressed backwards by Eric as the caveman unleashed a barrage of strikes upon the smaller man. Judging by what he was seeing, the professional was utilizing his long reach and range as well as strafing his movements in order to press his opponent.
What really got his attention was that every now and then he threw in a powerful horizontal swing that had a bit of wind-up to it. Rezzie made sure to time how long it took to wind up the swing, how fast the swing was, and how long it took to slow it down. After half a minute, Eric thrust the bamboo sword forward and caught Bellinger clean in the chest with the stabbing thrust, knocking him flat on his back. Eric helped Bellinger to his feet as the two walked back to the porch.
"So, I'm guessing Eric won the bout?" Rezzie looked between the two, eyebrow raised in curiosity.
"He did, five to one too," Bellinger answered as he stretched his arms out, "I'm gonna go out and get some pizza. You wanna take a shot at him?"
"Seeing what he did to you, of course I do," Rezzie turned to face Eric, "do you wanna take a rest or do you want to go straight to it?"
"I was just getting warmed up," Eric grinned at his new opponent with a cocky expression on his face, "you're the one I came here for."
"What's the matter, Rezzie? You're looking a bit nervous, there," Markham teased, trying to get under his skin.
Rezzie's glared down upon the scale-faced man, "I'm not nervous at all, it's been a while since I've been this excited. But you look like you could use some exercise, Markham. Wanna have a go before I face your friend, here?" as Markham's face paled at Rezzie's challenge, the swordsman scoffed at him, "that's what I thought. Eric, shall we?"
"Of course. After you," Eric's expression changed into one of seriousness.
As the two stepped out towards the middle of the yard, they both took combative stances. Rezzie knew he was going to be up for a very long day, considering who he's up against. And judging by how Eric was now completely focused on him now, as opposed to the cocky smile he had when he beat Bellinger all across the yard, Eric must've certainly been feeling the same.
Eric started off with that strong horizontal swing that he occasionally threw into his combinations. However, Rezzie's observations a minute prior allowed him to time when his guard would be open. Swooping forward, ducking under the strong swing, he thrust his sparring sword forward and struck him clean underneath his torso, causing him to stagger back in pain. It was clear that he wasn't expecting for the smaller opponent to be able to counter his signature swing right from the beginning in such a fashion.
Leaping back, Rezzie raised his guard and prepared for whatever Eric had coming for him. The man recovered from the damage and charged forward, unleashing a barrage of slashes and thrusts at his opponent. Rezzie blocked the attacks carefully as he maneuvered around him in order to fully gauge his strength. Losing traction on the grass slightly, Rezzie's guard accidentally lowered as Eric aimed a rising slash towards Rezzie's side. The blow struck home into Rezzie's liver and caused him to buckle and step back.
Rezzie had to admit, this man was a troublesome opponent. No only did his attacks carry power, he was faster than what Rezzie expected. Recovering from the strike, he saw as Eric wasn't going to stop his assault and continued striking forward at him. The swordsman blocked the barrage before the two simultaneously strike each other with consecutive stabs, forcing the two to stagger away from one another and put distance from one another.
"I gotta admit, you're better than I thought," Eric grinned, "but it feels like you're holding back on me, here. If you keep playing defensively like this, I'll win."
"Well, so much for a war of attrition," Rezzie gritted his teeth as he felt the blood pump through his veins, "you're right, I got no choice but to cut loose from here."
"Wait, what?"
Rezzie roared as he charged forward and unleashed a brutal combination of fast-paced strikes towards his opponent. Eric's eyes widened as he tried to parry, only to get caught with a strike clean in the side of his neck, causing him to tumble to the ground in pain. By the time he could recover, Rezzie was coming at him still. Eric aimed a low strike towards Rezzie's legs, only for him to leap into the air, somersault and aim a vertical swing towards the downed opponent.
Eric used the momentum of his swing to roll out of the way as the bamboo sword slammed into the ground, leaving a dent in the earth from the force of the strike. As he rose back to his feet, he was flabbergasted by the ferocity that Rezzie was unleashing as he continued to charge forward and aimed a powerful horizontal strike with all his might towards Eric's torso. Eric tried to clash against the strike with his own swing, roaring as he put everything he had into the blow. As the two bamboo swords clashed against one another with a sharp crack in the air, Eric's weapon shattered into splinters as it lost the bout.
The follow-through of the attack struck Eric in the chest, causing him to lean back from the force of the blow. Stunned at the destruction of his weapon, he could only watch in horror as Rezzie slide forward and thrust the tip of the bamboo sword into Eric's chin. The force of the thrust caused him to be knocked off his feet and fall flat on his back a yard away. The remains of the shattered weapon flew out of his hand and were strewn across the yard.
Not sure if this brutal man would continue to attack, all he could do now is submit, "I yield! I yield!" Eric shouted as he held his hand up to protect his face.
"Good," Eric looked up to see Rezzie looking down at him with a hard look as he held his hand out to help him up, "you're pretty good. It's been a while since I fought seriously. Thanks, I needed that."
"Wait, that was your true fighting style?" Eric's eyes widened in surprise, "I didn't think that you would have the skill to hide away your own strength like that."
"We both know that skill isn't always enough. At times, you need to wield your blade with a primal finesse and a savagery to paint the world red with blood," patting Eric on the shoulder, Rezzie grinned, "Well, I think it's safe to say that we both got what we came here for. We should probably head back to the party."
As the two headed back towards the patio, Rezzie got a good look at the frustrated scowls that were on the faces of Bellinger and Markham. He could only guess that the two young men weren't all that pleased about Rezzie mauling Eric the way he did; the former due to being outclassed by the same opponent not minutes earlier and breaking one of his training swords, and the latter due to him having hyped up Eric the way he did but only for him to be made a fool of. The swordsman blew off their scowls; in his eyes, their personal hang-ups were irrelevant to him.
When he walked towards the door back into his house, Smith and Nesha were just exiting, a plate full of pizza in one hand and a cup of soda in another. Judging by the crumbs on their faces, it looks like they already consumed quite a bit of the food available already. He didn't mind them eating, as long as they weren't gluttonous and saved enough for everyone else.
"So, how did it go?" Nesha asked curiously.
"5-2, my win. He was a lot better than I thought. Broke his blade while I was at it," answered Rezzie as he walked past them, "is there still pizza left over?"
"Yeah, man. Tons of it," Smith answered as he sat down at the table outside.
"Awesome. I'll be back out in a few minutes. Don't wait up on me," Rezzie said as he closed the door behind him to grab some more pizza.
As Smith and Nesha sat down at the table, the latter turned to the rest of their group and grinned, "Hey, Markham, is there something you'd like to say?"
"Shut your yap," grumbled Markham as he turned away from them.
"Bellinger, I'm sorry about your training sword getting broken in that bout," Eric apologized as he sat down as well, "If you want, I can pay you back for it."
"No need. Rezzie will be the one to reimburse me for it. After all, he was the one that broke it in the first place," Bellinger waved his hand as he declined the offer, "besides, I know him well enough. He'll pay."
"Sounds fair to me," Eric leaned back and looked over at Love, "So, I heard that you got an older brother. How come he isn't over here?"
"Gray and Rezzie had a falling out due to personal personality conflicts," Love explained as he finished his food, "Rezzie is a complete dick and Gray has a major problem with lying. Obviously Rez got pissed off and barred him from coming here. Hopefully the two can make some sort of amends and patch things up."
"Well, that depends entirely on him, Love," the group turned to the door to see Rezzie coming out with four slices if pizza on his plate, "I may be a dick, but that man wronged me with his dishonesty, and because of that he betrayed my trust. If he apologizes and makes efforts to work on being more honest, I'll be more than happy to let bygones be bygones."
"That might take some time, man. He's almost as stubborn as you are," Bellinger grumbled as he looked over at the broken wooden sword that was resting on the ground, "by the way, you owe me twenty bucks for the blade you broke," Rezzie didn't even blink as he pulled out a twenty out of his pocket and slapped it on the table in front of him," whoa, uh, thanks. Wasn't expecting it to be paid for right this instant."
"Don't worry about it. It's no problem," Rezzie shrugged as he took another bite of pizza before grinning," Now that business has been settled, we party."
—
For the next several hours, the group of young men spent the rest of the day and the better part of the evening hanging out and having fun. After finishing their food, they spent the rest of the time playing video games and chilling out in Rezzie's bedroom, shooting the breeze. After the events that occurred the past few days, it felt nice for him to feel normal every once in a while. Or at least in Rezzie's perspective it felt normal.
By the time that the clock turned to around 11 at night, everyone was pretty much ready to go home and call it a night. Bellinger, Markham and Eric were the last ones to leave Rezzie's house as they stepped outside through the front door, with Rezzie himself seeing them off. The four of them seemed rather content with the small party they had.
"Hey, guys, thanks for coming over and having a good time," Rezzie spoke graciously as he embraced Bellinger, "I really did appreciate the company."
"Hell yeah, man. Thanks for having us," Bellinger returned the embrace before letting go, "we should hang out again sometime."
"Sure thing. You guys take care."
As the trio left down the road out of the neighborhood, things were a bit silent between them, but then Markham spoke, "So what the hell was that out there, Eric? How did you get your ass kicked like that?"
"Hey, it's not like I WANTED to get beat," Eric huffed as he looked down towards the pavement, "he was a lot better than I thought he would be. You told me he was good, but you never told me that he was that good. There is something off about that guy's swordsmanship."
"As far as style? He's self-taught, same as I am," Bellinger, shrugged.
"As far as his overall strength and ability in general. Didn't you guys find it odd that he was doing flips though the air when he went all out the way he did?" Eric asked, causing the other two men to look at him in thought, "that's not normal. Something isn't right with that at all."'
"Really? I thought that he was just athletic is all," Bellinger then shook his head and waved the notions off, "well, enough of that for one night. You guys wanna stay at my place for the night?"
"Sure. I'm not in the mood to walk seven or eight miles in the dark just to get home," Markham answered as he gave a sigh of relief.
"Sounds good to me too, man."
"Great, let's roll out."
As the trio walked out of the neighborhood and on their way to Bellinger's house, they were unaware of what was standing in the middle of the street in the cul-de-sac on their left, standing in the light of the street lamp. It was a large man who was dressed in a dark green trench coat with the hood pulled over his face. In his left hand was a lead pipe with thick, bulky nails sticking out of it from midway all the way to the tip. As the man looked towards the trio and skulked back into the darkness, disappearing into the night.