Chapter Four:
He looked around at the crowd of people going wild around him, fists pumping in the air, cheering and clapping. The boy had won again.
He couldn't help but be pleased.
That boy had proven to be quite valuable; more valuable than he could have ever imagined. He was his golden trophy; his prized possession.
King smiled to himself, as he stood up from his seat of honor. The cheers around him only grew, as he smiled and waved at the enthusiastic crowd, before turning on his heels and exiting the arena through the door behind his seat.
He walked down the secluded hallway, the cheers of the arena gradually turning into a dull buzz behind him. As he entered the main hallway where the fighters were kept, he was approached by George.
"Quite a fight, right Boss?" The younger man said, flashing a crooked smile.
"How much did I make?"
"Fifty thousand." The man said, handing him a hefty stack of dollar bills. "This is only a tenth, Boss. The rest is already in your office."
That brought a smile to his face. Fifty thousand dollars. What a beautiful sum. When he first established the arena, he didn't expect it to be such a success.
He took a generous handful of the money and handed it back to George. "Treat your wife and yourself to something nice, George."
The young man looked absolutely shocked. His mouth was agape, as he looked down at the money in his hands and then back at the man who gave it to him. "Gee, I don't know what to say. Thanks Boss."
"I'm feeling a little generous." King said, smiling back at his associate.
George thanked him profusely once again before heading down the hallway he came, a joyful pep in his step.
King went back on his way to his office. Behind the metal door were another nine piles of money, just like George said there would be. He placed the rest of the money on his desk. He looked at it, feeling quite pleased with himself. He had done well that day.
This definitely proved all of his colleagues wrong. He wasn't a low-life, good-for-nothing thug. He had made something of himself. He owned the most successful underground fighting arena in all of Miami; probably in all of Florida as well.
However, not all of the praise should fall on his shoulders, he noted. After all, he wasn't the one who had done all of the dirty work that day.
"I suppose I should pay my little trophy a visit."
He left his office and headed down the corridors to the cells.
The boy's cell was empty.
The guard stationed in that part of the corridor spoke to him. "He's in the showers, Boss."
King nodded. That made sense. The boy did need to clean up after that brutal fight. He could wait, he decided. He nodded at the guard to unlock the cell. Once it was open, he stepped inside and leaned on a hidden part of the wall by the cell door.
A few minutes later he heard movement in the corridor. Within a few seconds, the blonde was standing in front of him, being pushed into the cell.
The blonde walked to his makeshift bed and laid down, not noticing King standing in the corner.
"That was quite a fight." He stepped out of his hiding spot.
Startled, the blonde sat up. His eyes turned into daggers as they met his. However, he didn't say a word. After all, he knew the consequences of talking back.
King chuckled. His put his hand in his jacket pocket, his thumb running over the remote.
The boy looked at him warily, his eyes following the movement of his hand.
"Don't worry. I'm in a good mood today." He said, taking a seat on the foot of the bed. The blonde moved further way, his back hitting the wall behind him. "Are you hungry?"
No answer. However, the sound of the boy's grumbling stomach was answer enough.
"What do you want to eat?"
Austin simply continued to glare at him.
"Alright." King raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I'll just send you whatever we have in the kitchen, but don't say I didn't offer you something better."
Hazel eyes just stared back at him.
"I came here to thank you, you know? You made me quite a lump sum of money today. A lot of people bet on you."
The blonde shifted in the bed, but didn't say a word.
"I thought you'd like to hear that. You're a celebrity! Isn't that what you wanted? You were one before."
"This isn't the same." The boy finally spoke, his voice hoarse after prolonged disuse. "You know that."
"Isn't it though? Fame is what you define it as. I see fame as being popular. And you are."
"This isn't fame. This is torture." The blonde growled.
"Tsk. Tsk." King shook his head. "I thought you would be happy. Don't you see? Both of us are getting something we want out of this. You are getting to live your life as a celebrity in the world of underground fighting. And me, I'm showing everyone that they were wrong about me. I'm not a failure."
"But you are." Austin hissed.
"You've got quite a mouth, boy. I thought you would've learned by now what the consequences of having a big mouth are." He shoved his hand in his pocket and without hesitation, took out the remote and pressed the single, red button in its center.
The blonde shouted in agony, his body convulsing from the electric shocks being administered by the collar around his neck. After a few seconds, King let go of the button and the boy collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily.
He laughed, smiling ruefully at his prize. He was like a dog; he just had to be trained.
He stood up and started pacing around the cell. "You don't understand what it's like to have everyone always expect nothing of you. You probably had a wonderful childhood, with parents giving you anything and everything that you asked for. Your parents probably supported you and encouraged you to follow your dreams."
He paused, looking up at the single lightbulb illuminating the cell.
"I was always the loser. No one expected anything of me. Not my teachers, not my classmates, and definitely not my parents." He stopped his walking and approached the boy, kneeling down to be eye level with him. "Do you know what it feels like to have everyone you know think that you are a failure and you will never amount to anything? To realize that at such a young age? No." He stood back up. "Of course, you don't. No one really does."
King walked over to the cell door and leaned against it.
"Everything changed when we had to read Fight Club in my senior high school English class. Reading that book, I knew that I had found my true purpose. My calling." He turned back to face Austin, smiling gleefully. "It fascinated me. The idea of grown men fighting. Of people watching them fight. People enjoying the violence, egging it on. And then, I thought, wouldn't it be absolutely genius to have men fight and have others pay to watch them?"
The boy just continued to glare at him.
"There's something primitive about human nature. Humans, we enjoy watching other people get hurt. It's a deep-seeded animalistic urge. You see animals in the animal kingdom fighting for territory, for mates, for food. It's in our blood. Because of the development of society, most of us try to hide that away. Because of society, fighting is considered barbaric and uncivilized. But you know what I say? Why not embrace it? I mean, just look at the Romans. They had it right with the Colosseum and the gladiators."
He grinned.
"You saw those men out there today. They love it! They're not afraid to embrace the joy. But, let me tell you, it was not an easy feat to establish all of this. I had to save up enough money to buy this place, you know. Money like that doesn't come easily. I had to get a job. I worked at a shipping dock. It was one of the few jobs that I could find without having a college degree. Took me quite some time to make enough money, but it has definitely been worth it. Just look at me now, I'm rich!"
He was met with silence.
"But you know, the work didn't end when I finally bought this building. I had to get it started, you know? Find people to work for me, find people to fight, find people to come watch the people fight. And that is not easy. Especially when I lose at least one or two fighters per week. I had to find a way to replace them quickly. To keep replacing them even now."
"Why are you telling me all of this?" The blonde asked.
"So, you can understand your worth, my prize." King petted his head. Austin pushed away. "You really don't know how valuable you are to me." He sighed, stepping away. "I need to tell someone my story. I need someone to understand me. No one really does. But you, you're special. My little pet."
"I'm not your pet."
King chuckled darkly, glancing sideways at the boy. "Aren't you?" He motioned to the expanse of the cell and the collar around the boy's neck.
Austin didn't say a word.
"That's why people get pets, you know. To have someone or something there to just listen to their woes and comfort them. Did you have a pet?"
The blonde slowly shook his head, looking down at the ground.
"That's a shame. But, at least you get to experience the other side of things. Having a pet isn't easy, you know." He went back to the cell door. "You have to care for them, feed them, clean them. It's a lot of work. But, of course you wouldn't know about that. You had a lovely childhood. You got everything you wanted, never having to work a day in your life."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it?" King whirled around to face him. "You never had to prove your worth. To prove that you could be someone. You didn't grow up with everyone looking down on you. You had supportive parents, supportive friends, supportive fans. You know, not everyone in the world is as lucky as you are. Some of us will work hard our entire lives and people will still look down upon us. People will never see our worth."
"That isn't my fault." Austin held his gaze.
"I suppose you're right in that sense. You didn't choose the family you were born into. But, you did choose to become the person you are. To pursue a music career. To gain fame. To make a name for yourself."
The blonde looked down at the ground, his expression growing solemn.
King smiled. "See? You're starting to understand now." He sat down on the foot of the bed. "Back to my story. A few of my coworkers at the docks were more than interested to help me with this place. Most of them also knew plenty of people who would be interested in being a part of the arena. They wanted to fight. Of course, I couldn't actually allow them to do that. Most of them have families of their own. I wouldn't want to take them away from their loved ones. That would be too cruel."
The boy glanced at him for a second before returning his gaze to the floor.
"So, I decided on picking up homeless men and bums from out of the streets. No one would mess them or even notice that they were gone, you know? If anything, I would be helping society and ridding them of the burden of taken care of the homeless. I would take care of them, give them food, offer them a place to stay, give them something to do with their lives, you know?"
"What about me?" Austin asked. "I'm not homeless. I hav- had a family. Why am I here?"
"You're a natural fighter Austin. Can't you see it? You've come this far with no fighting experience. That is quite a feat, I must say. I am very impressed. The second I laid eyes on you on television, I knew that I needed you. You belonged here. I had to get my men to get you. You were perfect. Young, agile, strong. I needed someone who would last a long time, to keep the crowds coming."
"You're crazy." The boy hissed.
"Now that's not a very nice way to speak to the man who is feeding you." King said, resting his thumb on the red button. "But, I know you must be tired, so I'm going to let that go. Just this once." He smiled.
Austin looked at him warily. "You took me away from my family, from my friends."
"Did those people really care for you, though? I mean, look at you. You're still here. I'm pretty sure that if they really cared about you, you would've been found by now."
"That's not true. They could still be looking for me."
"It's been almost two years since you disappeared. That's long enough to presume someone dead. Face it Austin, they didn't really care about you. I do. I'm your family."
"No, you're not."
King laughed. "Believe what you want, but deep down, you know it's true."
The blonde looked crestfallen, his eyes falling down to the floor and his shoulders hunching over.
"As I was saying, I was right about you. More so than I could have ever expected. The crowd loves you. You're one of their favorites. You heard them today when you came out. They adore you! Almost all of them are rooting for you to win. You're my little moneymaker." He patted the blonde's head. "You're my little trophy, my little prize."
The boy shook his hand off.
"Getting business was also a tricky part, you know. As I said, most of my coworkers were interested in watching men fight. Many of them brought their friends with them. We had to advertise the arena without getting into the public eye. Fortunately, word about my arena slowly travelled and the crowd gradually grew. People would always come back, bringing friends with them. Now, I have a full arena every day. If only my father could see me now."
King stood up, his hand curling onto a fist. "If only he could see how big of a success I am." He sighed happily. He turned to look at Austin. "Well, I think that's enough story time for today."
He headed over for the cell door. The guard monitoring the door opened it for him. King stepped into the corridor, turning around to look at the blonde as the cell door was locked once again.
"Keep up the good work, my prize." He smiled, before walking away.
Hello! Sorry for the delay in updating. I have finals coming up and I had a little bit of writer's block. When I first published this story, I wasn't expecting to continue it. When I did decide to continue, I wasn't sure if I wanted to give King a backstory. I was planning on leaving that up to your imagination. But, I finally decided to try to give him a believable one. I also tried to let him tell his backstory in a believable way. Let me know how I did.
And, if you have any suggestions, they will be greatly appreciated it.
Also, my apologies for any confusion I may have caused earlier. I posted this chapter last night, but after reading it through, I didn't like how it turned out. So, I rewrote it.
As of right now, I will not write a chapter detailing how the police found Austin. That I will leave to your imaginations. The next chapter will detail his family and his friends' reactions to finally seeing him after almost two years. Though, I do not know when I will actually write or post it. My best bet is no later than the end of June.
I was just re-reading this story and this chapter and I have to say I am honestly surprised with myself for coming up with this. Most of my other stories on my old accounts were happy and cheerful, with a small amount of angst or pain. I really don't know what came over me with this story!
I am working on another story at the moment, as well. It is actually a story I posted a while ago on my other account. But I lost interest in it and deleted it.
Recently, though, I've found interest in it again. Unfortunately, I deleted all of the chapters that I had already written, so I have to start from scratch and with the best of my memory. I am not sure if or when I will post that.
~ The Queen of Misery