CHAPTER 189

"Hello! Anybody home? Sensei! Sarah!"

Marcos called out into the empty Cobra Kai dojo as he walked inside. It was Monday afternoon, time for training, but to his shock, there seemed to be nobody in the dojo but him. It was dark, completely empty and mostly silent, all except for the distant sound of raised voices coming from the dojo's back office.

Curious to see what was going on, Marcos slowly walked further inside. As he did though, he began to recognize the voice that was speaking in the office, and when he did, his heart stopped. He knew that voice anywhere. He had been hearing that voice for 18 years, and even now that he was in prison, still heard that voice almost every night in his nightmares.

"Lamps were flying… glass was shattering everywhere." His dad told Sarah one of the stories of Marcos' abuse as the two of them sat in the dojo's back office together. "And I tell you, he got one tiny piece of glass on his face and he starts bawling like a baby!"

Marcos turned the corner and walked into the room. When he did, the sight that met him stunned him into silence. He was left immobile in shock, stammering and stuttering to find the words to speak. Sarah and his father were sat in the dojo's office, sipping drinks together and laughing like old friends.

That didn't change when Marcos walked into the room. As Sarah finished listening to the story that Felipe had told, she turned to Marcos and saw him in the hallway, raising a finger to point at him and cackling.

"He's still like that!" Sarah exclaimed jovially. "He's always crying about this or that!"

Marcos slowly walked into the room, trying to process the mind-shattering scene in front of him. His father had gotten out of jail?! WHEN?! HOW?! His mind screamed at him to slow down as his thought raced with fear and astonishment. In the company of his father for the first time in 6 months, Marcos expected the man to be a lot less jovial than he was right now. He expected fury. He expected a fight. Not him and Sarah sitting down together, chatting about the lowest moments of Marcos' life like they were nothing.

"I'll tell you something though… Marcos was a good-looking kid though. Even back then." His father remarked, before his face suddenly darkened into a scowl and he turned to look right at Marcos. "Not when he cried though. He was an ugly crier!"

"What… what the hell are you doing here?" Marcos stammered. His father laughed at his terror and shock to see him there, and he shrugged.

"Well, I'm just making myself at home, son." His father replied. "She's like your family. Well that makes her mine too."

"Get… get out of here! Get out of here now!" Marcos finally found his voice to yell. "Get out! GET OUT!"

"Marcos… come on! You wouldn't throw your old man out, would you?" His father remarked. "I mean… that'd be really selfish!"

"Oh ho ho… you're going to tell me about being selfish?!" Marcos shouted. "YOU?! After everything you've done?!"

"Now, now, Marcos. Don't be rude. Your father was just looking out for you. He was just trying to make you stronger. Trying to make you into a real man." Sarah spoke up.

At this point, Marcos snapped. He lunged at his father, grabbing the man by the shirt and using every ounce of his strength to throw him across the room. Felipe soared through the air for a few moments, before slamming against the wall and crashing to the ground.

Marcos didn't rest there. All of the trauma, all of the hardships, everything the monster of a man had put him through… it all came rushing back. He felt himself being impaled by shards of glass. Whipped by his dad's ruthless belt. Beaten with the bat that his father had bought just for him. Burned when his father had thrown a boiling mug of coffee at him. He had been forced to go through so much pain, and now he was going to make sure that his father felt all of the pain he had, and more.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

He found himself whaling on his father's fallen body, targeting every inch of exposed skin he could find. Until all of a sudden, after his father had been punched so many times that he was barely unconscious, Marcos found that he wasn't just hitting him with his fists anymore. Something else had been placed in his hands. Cold steel had forced itself in his balled fists, and the click of a safety echoed through the air.

"Marcos! What are you doing?!" Sarah shouted, but Marcos ignored her. His eyes were locked on the man below him, and he tuned everything else out as he held the gun up to the man who had given him life.

Seeing the handgun that was in his son's hands, Marcos' father didn't look at all scared. Instead… he chuckled. He laughed and guffawed loudly, sitting up slightly as his eyes flickered from Marcos' enraged, crimson face to the barrel that was being pointed at his head.

"Go on. Do it." His father goaded him. "Or are you too soft? Do you not have the guts to d…"

BANG!

Marcos jolted awake as the gunshot ripped through the air, only to find himself lying in his bed. Out of breath and sweating furiously in an entrapment of blankets, Marcos thrashed around for a while to get himself out, before falling off the bed and onto the floor. As he felt the cold tile press against his bare back, he put his head in his hands and forced himself to calm down. He wasn't at the dojo. None of that had happened.

The only remaining proof of the events of last night was resting next to Marcos' bedside table. It was his safety measure in case his father came back, the last thing he had seen before falling into the restless sleep and that was probably why it had appeared in his nightmares. Marcos reached out and picked it up, tucking it into the waistband of his pants, before putting on his shirt to conceal its presence.

Things between him and his father weren't over. That was plain and clear to see. But they would be. Soon enough, they would be over. 6 months ago, Marcos had spared his father and instead allowed the law to punish him. Not this time. Not when within half a year of a life sentence, his father had already managed to scam the law. This time… this time Marcos was taking matters into his own hands, and the steel weapon tucked into his pants encouraged him to do just that…

After Marcos picked up the gun and put on his clothes, he left his apartment. For more than 6 months, Marcos had allowed himself to be attacked, to be physically and emotionally traumatised by his father. Not anymore. Not even for a second longer. He was flipping the script. This time, his father was going to be on the receiving end, and by the time he was done, the man was going to wish that killing him was all Marcos had done.

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"Have you heard from Marcos at all?" Sarah asked Kreese, pretty concerned, as the two of them walked into the dojo that morning. Oblivious to the events that had occurred in their male leader's house the night before, the other leaders of the dojo were forced to do something they never imagined that they'd be doing right now: packing up the dojo for the last time.

"No. I haven't. He wasn't answering his phone." Kreese replied.

Kreese and Sarah were going to start packing everything in the dojo into boxes, ridding the dojo of memories that spanned nearly half a century. Marcos had been offered by Kreese and Sarah to help them, but unfortunately, they hadn't received any kind of communication from the boy since they had gone their separate ways at the airport. It was slightly worrying that they hadn't heard anything from him, but they figured that he was still getting over the tough events of the Taikai and had wanted some time alone. And that they would see him pretty soon.

Actually, it turned out that they would see him sooner than any of them had expected. Because as Sarah and Kreese walked into the dojo, empty boxes in their hands, they saw Marcos in the corner of the room, beating the shit out of a punching target. He was working vigorously, and his back was turned to them, so he didn't even notice them when he walked in.

"See. I told you that you couldn't stay away from fighting for too long." Sarah remarked as she saw him working out in the corner of the room, relieved that Marcos was here and that he was okay. However, as soon as the words slipped from Sarah's mouth, she realized that something was wrong. There was SO much venom, so much ferocity in the punches that Marcos was throwing, especially for someone who had just come out of an exhausting, week-long Karate tournament.

As Marcos heard her voice and spun around to face her, Sarah's doubts were confirmed and her worries mounted once more as she saw his face. The look on her face… she had seen it before. She hadn't seen it for months now, but she still remembered it like it was yesterday. Standing in front of her wasn't the Marcos of today, but instead the Marcos of December of last year. And the reason Marcos had taken an aggressive, ruthless slide back then had been because of the trauma he was going through.

"Marcos… what happened?" Sarah immediately asked him. The boy looked like he had seen a ghost, but also like he was about to throttle that ghost with his bare hands. He was silent for a while, before he eventually responded.

"My dad. He's out of jail." Marcos told them. Kreese and Sarah's eyes widened in alarm, and Sarah immediately rushed over to him, placing a comforting hand on him.

"Oh, my God! Are you okay?" She asked. Marcos took a step away from her, towards the exit of the dojo, as he nodded.

"I'm fine." He replied gruffly. And he told them everything. He told them all about his encounter with his father the night before; about how his father had broken in; about how the man had stumped him with how he had managed to get out of jail; and lastly, about how he vowed that they'd meet again soon. By the end, Sarah and Kreese were left silent in shock.

"Marcos… you need to go to the police!" Sarah exclaimed. "You can report him for breaking into your home! Or even if you don't want to do that, you can get a restraining order against him to keep him away from you."

Marcos audibly laughed at this.

"My father is willing to do whatever it takes to kill his own son. You really think a little sheet of paper is going to keep him away?" Marcos remarked. "Besides, maybe going to the cops isn't the best idea."

"What do you mean?" Kreese asked. Marcos took a deep breath.

"Something he said last night stuck with me, when he was telling me about how he had gotten out of jail" Marcos said. "He talked about friendship, about how someone must've helped him get out. And I know that none of you have met my dad, but he's not exactly the type to make friends too easily."

"Really? Abusive Mr. Oliveira Sr. isn't quite the charmer?" Sarah commented sarcastically. Marcos shook his head.

"Exactly. Which is why I can't shake the feeling that something bigger is going on here, so I came here to tell you to look over your shoulders for the next little while. I can't help but feel like this isn't just about a batshit crazy middle-aged man trying to commit filicide, but instead this is all part of a larger plan."

"What plan?" Kreese asked. Marcos shrugged.

"Damned if I know. But I'm eager to find out what my dad has in store." Marcos replied, before turning towards the door and beginning to walk away, until Sarah's voice halted him in his tracks.

"Woah, woah, wait! Where are you going?" Sarah asked.

"Home." Marcos replied. Sarah's eyes widened and she immediately shook her head.

"No, you're not! Come to my place or something. Your father has already proven that he knows how to get to know you when you're at home!" Sarah exclaimed. Marcos nodded.

"Exactly. That's the point. Let him fucking try something again and we'll see what happens to him then." Marcos growled, feeling his fury towards his father rise further, the gun pressed against his person feeling all the more prominent. "I'm ready for him this time. I want him to find me. I'm going to finish this once and for all."

With that, Marcos turned around again and walked out of the dojo, leaving a very concerned Sarah and Kreese behind him. They recognized this voice from the teenager. It was far from the voice of a man who was in a sane state of mind. This was the voice of someone who felt like he had absolutely nothing to lose, and for that reason was going to risk everything to put his enemy in the ground.

"Should we be worried about him?" Sarah murmured, her eyes still on the door that Marcos had just walked out of.

"About Mr. Oliveira? Always." Kreese nodded in reply. Sarah sighed.

"So what should we do?"