Post by Gerard Angelo on May 5, 2020 22:59:00 GMT -5
“...and here comes the three-two…”
Most of the people watching the small, wall-mounted, flatscreen held their collective breathes as they watched the pitcher wind up before releasing a nasty breaking ball that tumbles down towards the plate at the last second.
“And strike three! Rosario strikes out again, this time with a man on second and third!”
There is an audible groan in unsion from most of the bar patrons as they watched the ball player slam his helmet down in frustration as he walked away from home plate.
“...Rosario’s early season slump continues as the Mets trail the Nationals three to one…”
Theo shook his head and lifted the bottle of Miller Lite up, taking a swing from the brown, glass, bottle. The Mets were never gonna get their shit together, he thought to himself. In his free hand he tapped a diamond engagement ring on the old wooden bar he was seated at, the knuckles on that hand bruised and scabbed over. Theo had no remorse for what he did, he felt like he was completely justified in his actions. She was the one who betrayed him, not the other way around. Theo’s phone started vibrating in his pocket. He reached into his jean’s pocket and pulled out his iPhone to see who it was. MEGAN DIMARCO flashed across the screen. He smirked and hit the side button to silence it and returned it to his right pocket. Kara’s parents thought he was on a business trip in the United Kingdom. He told them that after the first time they called him to tell him about the “accident”. Theo put on an act with crocodile tears and told them he would be on the first flight he could get home. That was days ago. In reality, he was laying low until McLauren sent someone to get him out of the city. All he had to do was avoid the police and anyone who knew him until then. After that, he would wait until the Black One rose up to claim what was rightfully his. The only thing he regretted was that he couldn’t lay his hands on Gerard Angelo, since he was claimed by the Dark Lord. Maybe when Ba’lal had no more use for that third-rate actor, Theo could have his proper revenge.
The bartender, called Mickey by the regular patrons, walked over to Theo. Mickey rubbed his longish grey beard as he looked at Theo from behind the bar.
“Women problems, son?” Mickey asked, noticing the engagement ring being toyed with on his old, pockmarked, bar. Theo looked down then up at Mickey, giving a smirk.
“You could say that.”
Mickey nodded and reached down, pulling another Miller out of the cooler. Mickey deftly cracks it open with a twist, like he’s done for thousands of beers over the years.
“On the house son.” Mickey says, placing it down in front of Theo. As he’s putting the bottle down, he notices the other man's knuckles and gives him a look.
“You should see the other guy.” Theo says with a chuckle. Mickey cracks a smile, oblivious to the source of Theo’s dark humor, and walks away to tend to other patrons. Theo lifts the fresh bottle to his lips, eyes turning back to television, watching the New York Mets go up to bat again.
========
Gerry sits hunched over a cafeteria table in the hospital, one hand gripped around a styrofoam cup. He picks the cup up and takes a sip, making a face as the cheap coffee splashes over his taste buds. Even loaded with sugar and Coffee Mate, it was still pretty terrible. Gerry had been here at the hospital, taking shifts with Kara’s parents so she’d always have someone around. Megan was vocally appreciative and even Frank’s demeanor had softened towards him. The only problem was the fact they kept mentioning Theo constantly. Gerard had kept his mouth shut about linking him to the attack on their daughter, since he didn’t have any solid evidence, and wasn’t trying to push his luck. He had even asked some of the people he knew in the City if they had seen or heard anything about Theo’s whereabouts. No one had any information, but Gerard didn’t believe that he was in Britain. All of this was weighing heavy on his mind, so much that he had to force himself to prepare for Living a Legacy on Sunday. One could say Gerard had a very full plate.
He did make a promise to Kara, and he would be damned if he was going to let her down this time. Not only would he have to face his compatriot, Holden, in the first round (who he needed to call and have a talk with), But he would also be facing either Kyle Shane or Grimm if he managed to make it into the finals. They were both men that Gerard had a history with, albeit with different outcomes. Gerard was seemingly the only person in Pure Class Wrestling that Kyle Shane didn’t have a clean as a whistle victory over, while Grimm had become Gerard’s white whale. In Gerard’s opinion, either match up was worthy of the main event of Mass Destruction, let alone any event.
Gerard respected them both as competitors, he didn’t care for either of them as people. Grimm was the respected veteran of the locker room, the guy that had been here the longest through everything that has happened in the company’s history. That’s what got him a lot of loyalty from those in charge. He was the guy here, that much was known. But he seemed like a guy that was so desperate to hold on to his spot, that it was at the expense of making sure no one could ever be seen at the level he was on. The whole gimmick was to make sure he walked around in this rarefied air, that he was on a whole different plain of existence. He was the exalted “locker room leader”, the one who was supposed to set the example of excellence that PCW tried to convey. That was a bunch of bullshit. Grimm acted holier than thou, but it was a bunch of horseshit. Grimm was a glorified bully. The only way to do things was “his way”, or no way.
Gerry knew he was more than a man, though, but he was still flesh and blood. And creatures of flesh and blood still wanted things. As much as Grimm tried to give off the air he was above such petty things as spots on a wrestling card, he still worried about where he was positioned. Grimm had a white knuckle death grip on his spot, and he would be damned if there was anyone coming into PCW that would threaten that. Gerard knew of that first hand when Grimm single-handedly tried to take him out by injuring his knee. Grimm tried to give that line about it “just being business”, and that seemed to satisfy most people. But no one else had looked Grimm in the eye when he mercilessly assaulted his knee over and over. He knew that look. It was the look of a desperate man. A man who saw someone that was a threat to everything he held dear. A man who saw someone on the rise, and decided to nip it in the bud. Gerard never forgot what happened that night. It was the start of his career’s descent. Grimm took everything from him that night. The world title, the support of the fans and, most importantly, his confidence. It had been a struggle for him over the past year. Just recently he was starting to get his confidence back. And here was a chance for everything to come full circle. At Living a Legacy, again. Gerard would have a chance to get revenge on Grimm. And this time he would be ready.
Kyle Shane seemed to be a stark contrast of Grimm. While Grimm was a man of few words, the living embodiment of “less is more”, Kyle Shane was the embodiment of “going the extra mile”. Between his extravagant entrances, long monologues, and penchant for putting on classic match after classic match, Kyle Shane was everything you looked for in a star to build a company around. The thing was, he was a shit stain of a personality. Kyle was a guy who was happy so long as everything was working out for him, but as soon as he faces some adversity, he cracks. Kyle Shane can blame his leaving PCW on a broken back, but Kyle knew he had one foot out the door since Gerard took the World Championship from him. Kyle’s time in the sun was up and instead of trudging through like everyone else, he took his ball and went home. Gerard admittedly had one of the worst years of his career, and while he did think about leaving, he toughed it out and stayed. And even then, for staying and putting his all into the company to make it better, how was he rewarded? Snubbed from the Icemann Invitational. Kyle Shane leaves because the going got tough, and he comes back with a chance to win the most prestigious tournament in the business. Gerard had to go through a grueling battle royal match with the odds stacked against him. Kyle thinks that favoritism is a myth. This is proof that it’s not.
Kyle Shane might be the single most talented person to ever step foot in Pure Class Wrestling, winning nearly every single individual accolade one person could in what might be the shortest amount of time ever. Stacking up victory, after victory. But he couldn’t beat Gerard. The first time they faced off it took a faulty turnbuckle to let Kyle escape with his title intact. The second time, Gerard reached the mountain top and ended the longest World title reign in company history. Much like Gerard, if everything fell right, Kyle also had a chance at redemption. A chance to rectify the loss that sent Kyle Shane into his downward spiral. That seemed to be a theme of this show, redemption. But Gerard would be damned if he was going to be fodder for anyone's redemption story.
But how fitting would it be? You couldn’t write it any better even if it was fake. Kyle Shane versus Gerard Angelo in the finals of the Icemann. Kyle Shane wins and takes his top spot back like nothing ever happened. And Gerard once again fails to win when it matters.
Gerard took another sip of the awful coffee, grimacing as he swallows. Gerard knew that mostly everyone looked at him as a failure in PCW. he was a guy that talked a big game, but when push came to shove, he always managed to come up short. It was starting to seem like you could chalk up his legendary win over Kyle Shane as a fluke. Gerard was in the category of an also ran. A guy that when someone in twenty years is talking about wrestling and they brought up Gerard, the other guy would be like, “Damn, I forgot about him”. Gerard could accept that fate. He could accept the fact that he was always a guy on the cusp of greatness, but could never make the leap. But if there was one thing that Gerard was, it was that he was fucking stubborn. His ego wouldn’t let him accept that he wasn’t as good as these other guys. Gerard was every bit the wrestler Shane and Grimm are. He admits that at times he would lose focus on the ultimate goal, that sometimes his mind was elsewhere. But not this time. He had more than just his own selfish reasons for winning at Living a Legacy. He wasn’t just fighting for himself this time.
“Is this seat taken?”
Gerry is snapped from his thoughts by a doctor speaking to him. The man looked to be in his late forties, with slicked back, jet-black hair, slightly greying at the temples. He was dressed in scrubs and a white lab coat, and carried a cane. The doctor pulled out the plastic chair across from Gerard, laying his cane across his lap. Gerard stared at the man, there was something awfully familiar about him.
“Do I know you?” Gerard asked quizzically, raising an eyebrow. The doctor just laughed.
“I would hope you know me, Electi.” The doctor said, giving a grin. Gerard’s eyes widened.
“Ba’lal? Is that you?” Gerard asked before giving himself a pinch on his arm, “Am I dreaming?”
“You are not dreaming.” Ba’lal said,waving his hand.
“But I thought you couldn’t move around in the physical world?”
“My power grows stronger every day, boy.” he said with confidence, a smirk across his thin lips. “Soon I shall be powerful enough to complete my destiny.”
Ba’lal dropped the smirk and leaned closer to Gerard, his face turning serious.
“But I am not here about me. I am here to help you.”
“What do you mean?” Gerard asked, raising his eyebrow again.
“I saw what happened to the girl. A shame really.” The demi-god said, shaking his head back and forth. “But I do know what you seek, and where to find it.”
Gerard’s eyes widened.
“You know where Theo is?”
Ba’lal just nodded.
“Well where is he?” Gerard hissed. Ba’lal smirked again.
“Consider this an advance on one of your favors, boy.”
Ba’lal raised his hand out and extended his index finger. He reached across the table, pressing the slender digit to Gerard’s forehead. The point of contact quickly became a searing white pain and Gerard let out a cry before everything went dark.
12:43 AM
Theo walked out of the dive bar on shaky legs, stumbling slightly before catching himself. He chuckled and turned on his heel, hands shoved into the pockets of his bomber jacket as he walked down the street. It was a strange night in New York City, there seemed to not be a lot of people out tonight. Theo didn’t notice though, he was focused on making it to the safe house McLauren texted him about. From there they would get him on a plane and he could forget everything about this fake life he lived.
Theo needed to get a block over and came across an alley linking the two streets. He decided to take the shortcut, putting his head down as he walked the narrow passage between two apartment buildings. If Theo hadn’t spent the night guzzling beers down, he might have gotten the sense he was being watched the entire time.
“Hey you piece of shit.”
Theo turned around, seeing a man in a black hoodie behind him. Despite the first thought of it being a mugger, a knowing feeling washed over Theo.
“Well, well,” Theo said, pulling his big hands out of the pockets of his jacket, “If it isn’t the wrestler.”
Gerard lifted his hands up, and pulled the hood down, revealing his face, a scowl etched across it.
“So how’d you know it was me?” Theo asked with a smirk, turning his neck to the side and cracking it with an audible pop. Gerry just stared him down.
“I always knew you were a fuckin’ pussy,” Gerard said, clenching his fists. “So I just had to put the pieces together.”
“Still alive, huh?”
Gerard just glared a hole through the former linebacker.
“Ah, well, no matter then. I can always finish the job after…”
Theo gets cut off and Gerard sprints towards him, ramming a shoulder into his midsection, slamming him into a dumpster. They smash into a picture frame leaning up against it, sending glass shards everywhere on the asphalt. Theo grunts but clubs on the back of Gerard, the bigger man dropping the Hollywood Hero to his knees. A quick knee to the face knocks Gerry down, splitting his lip. Gerard shakes his head, dazed, but has no time to recover as a swift kick from Theo’s heavy-booted foot knocks the wind out of him. Theo chuckled as he stood over Gerard.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of fighter, huh?”
Gerard responds by kicking Theo in the family jewels, causing him to double over in pain. Gerard uses this as a chance to get to his feet, and throws a haymaker, connecting with the side of Theo’s jaw. It’s enough to stumble the big man, and Gerard rushes in with a furious flurry of strike to the face. It drops Theo to the ground and Gerard mounts him, repeatedly slamming his fist into the former pro athlete’s face, turning it from ruggedly handsome, to a bloody vicious parody of what he did to Kara. Theo has enough wits to drive a knee up into Gerry’s groin and he rolls over on top now, slamming his meaty fist into the actor’s face. Theo then wraps his massive hands around Gerry’s neck, pressing his thumbs against his windpipe.
Gerard struggles, frantically clawing and scratching at Theo’s hands and arms as he gasps for breath. Theo smirks as best as he can with bloody, broken, lips. Gerard starts to fade and lets go on Theo’s wrist, hands hands falling on the pavement.
“I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. First, I’m going to kill you. And then I’m gonna go finish off that dumb, little, slu…”
Theo’s words are cut off again, this time as he gasps and gurgles. His hands release Gerry’s neck and go to his own, trying to hold in the blood squirting from his jugular, pierced by the jagged piece of glass Gerard drove into it to free himself. Gerard gasped for air as he tried to suck the sweet gas into his lungs before pushing Theo’s body off of him. He lands flat on his back, his body wriggling as he desperately tries to keep himself from dying. Gerard pants next to him, feeling both vindicated and disgusted at the same time.
Somewhere, Ba’lal laughed. Phase one was complete
Most of the people watching the small, wall-mounted, flatscreen held their collective breathes as they watched the pitcher wind up before releasing a nasty breaking ball that tumbles down towards the plate at the last second.
“And strike three! Rosario strikes out again, this time with a man on second and third!”
There is an audible groan in unsion from most of the bar patrons as they watched the ball player slam his helmet down in frustration as he walked away from home plate.
“...Rosario’s early season slump continues as the Mets trail the Nationals three to one…”
Theo shook his head and lifted the bottle of Miller Lite up, taking a swing from the brown, glass, bottle. The Mets were never gonna get their shit together, he thought to himself. In his free hand he tapped a diamond engagement ring on the old wooden bar he was seated at, the knuckles on that hand bruised and scabbed over. Theo had no remorse for what he did, he felt like he was completely justified in his actions. She was the one who betrayed him, not the other way around. Theo’s phone started vibrating in his pocket. He reached into his jean’s pocket and pulled out his iPhone to see who it was. MEGAN DIMARCO flashed across the screen. He smirked and hit the side button to silence it and returned it to his right pocket. Kara’s parents thought he was on a business trip in the United Kingdom. He told them that after the first time they called him to tell him about the “accident”. Theo put on an act with crocodile tears and told them he would be on the first flight he could get home. That was days ago. In reality, he was laying low until McLauren sent someone to get him out of the city. All he had to do was avoid the police and anyone who knew him until then. After that, he would wait until the Black One rose up to claim what was rightfully his. The only thing he regretted was that he couldn’t lay his hands on Gerard Angelo, since he was claimed by the Dark Lord. Maybe when Ba’lal had no more use for that third-rate actor, Theo could have his proper revenge.
The bartender, called Mickey by the regular patrons, walked over to Theo. Mickey rubbed his longish grey beard as he looked at Theo from behind the bar.
“Women problems, son?” Mickey asked, noticing the engagement ring being toyed with on his old, pockmarked, bar. Theo looked down then up at Mickey, giving a smirk.
“You could say that.”
Mickey nodded and reached down, pulling another Miller out of the cooler. Mickey deftly cracks it open with a twist, like he’s done for thousands of beers over the years.
“On the house son.” Mickey says, placing it down in front of Theo. As he’s putting the bottle down, he notices the other man's knuckles and gives him a look.
“You should see the other guy.” Theo says with a chuckle. Mickey cracks a smile, oblivious to the source of Theo’s dark humor, and walks away to tend to other patrons. Theo lifts the fresh bottle to his lips, eyes turning back to television, watching the New York Mets go up to bat again.
========
Gerry sits hunched over a cafeteria table in the hospital, one hand gripped around a styrofoam cup. He picks the cup up and takes a sip, making a face as the cheap coffee splashes over his taste buds. Even loaded with sugar and Coffee Mate, it was still pretty terrible. Gerry had been here at the hospital, taking shifts with Kara’s parents so she’d always have someone around. Megan was vocally appreciative and even Frank’s demeanor had softened towards him. The only problem was the fact they kept mentioning Theo constantly. Gerard had kept his mouth shut about linking him to the attack on their daughter, since he didn’t have any solid evidence, and wasn’t trying to push his luck. He had even asked some of the people he knew in the City if they had seen or heard anything about Theo’s whereabouts. No one had any information, but Gerard didn’t believe that he was in Britain. All of this was weighing heavy on his mind, so much that he had to force himself to prepare for Living a Legacy on Sunday. One could say Gerard had a very full plate.
He did make a promise to Kara, and he would be damned if he was going to let her down this time. Not only would he have to face his compatriot, Holden, in the first round (who he needed to call and have a talk with), But he would also be facing either Kyle Shane or Grimm if he managed to make it into the finals. They were both men that Gerard had a history with, albeit with different outcomes. Gerard was seemingly the only person in Pure Class Wrestling that Kyle Shane didn’t have a clean as a whistle victory over, while Grimm had become Gerard’s white whale. In Gerard’s opinion, either match up was worthy of the main event of Mass Destruction, let alone any event.
Gerard respected them both as competitors, he didn’t care for either of them as people. Grimm was the respected veteran of the locker room, the guy that had been here the longest through everything that has happened in the company’s history. That’s what got him a lot of loyalty from those in charge. He was the guy here, that much was known. But he seemed like a guy that was so desperate to hold on to his spot, that it was at the expense of making sure no one could ever be seen at the level he was on. The whole gimmick was to make sure he walked around in this rarefied air, that he was on a whole different plain of existence. He was the exalted “locker room leader”, the one who was supposed to set the example of excellence that PCW tried to convey. That was a bunch of bullshit. Grimm acted holier than thou, but it was a bunch of horseshit. Grimm was a glorified bully. The only way to do things was “his way”, or no way.
Gerry knew he was more than a man, though, but he was still flesh and blood. And creatures of flesh and blood still wanted things. As much as Grimm tried to give off the air he was above such petty things as spots on a wrestling card, he still worried about where he was positioned. Grimm had a white knuckle death grip on his spot, and he would be damned if there was anyone coming into PCW that would threaten that. Gerard knew of that first hand when Grimm single-handedly tried to take him out by injuring his knee. Grimm tried to give that line about it “just being business”, and that seemed to satisfy most people. But no one else had looked Grimm in the eye when he mercilessly assaulted his knee over and over. He knew that look. It was the look of a desperate man. A man who saw someone that was a threat to everything he held dear. A man who saw someone on the rise, and decided to nip it in the bud. Gerard never forgot what happened that night. It was the start of his career’s descent. Grimm took everything from him that night. The world title, the support of the fans and, most importantly, his confidence. It had been a struggle for him over the past year. Just recently he was starting to get his confidence back. And here was a chance for everything to come full circle. At Living a Legacy, again. Gerard would have a chance to get revenge on Grimm. And this time he would be ready.
Kyle Shane seemed to be a stark contrast of Grimm. While Grimm was a man of few words, the living embodiment of “less is more”, Kyle Shane was the embodiment of “going the extra mile”. Between his extravagant entrances, long monologues, and penchant for putting on classic match after classic match, Kyle Shane was everything you looked for in a star to build a company around. The thing was, he was a shit stain of a personality. Kyle was a guy who was happy so long as everything was working out for him, but as soon as he faces some adversity, he cracks. Kyle Shane can blame his leaving PCW on a broken back, but Kyle knew he had one foot out the door since Gerard took the World Championship from him. Kyle’s time in the sun was up and instead of trudging through like everyone else, he took his ball and went home. Gerard admittedly had one of the worst years of his career, and while he did think about leaving, he toughed it out and stayed. And even then, for staying and putting his all into the company to make it better, how was he rewarded? Snubbed from the Icemann Invitational. Kyle Shane leaves because the going got tough, and he comes back with a chance to win the most prestigious tournament in the business. Gerard had to go through a grueling battle royal match with the odds stacked against him. Kyle thinks that favoritism is a myth. This is proof that it’s not.
Kyle Shane might be the single most talented person to ever step foot in Pure Class Wrestling, winning nearly every single individual accolade one person could in what might be the shortest amount of time ever. Stacking up victory, after victory. But he couldn’t beat Gerard. The first time they faced off it took a faulty turnbuckle to let Kyle escape with his title intact. The second time, Gerard reached the mountain top and ended the longest World title reign in company history. Much like Gerard, if everything fell right, Kyle also had a chance at redemption. A chance to rectify the loss that sent Kyle Shane into his downward spiral. That seemed to be a theme of this show, redemption. But Gerard would be damned if he was going to be fodder for anyone's redemption story.
But how fitting would it be? You couldn’t write it any better even if it was fake. Kyle Shane versus Gerard Angelo in the finals of the Icemann. Kyle Shane wins and takes his top spot back like nothing ever happened. And Gerard once again fails to win when it matters.
Gerard took another sip of the awful coffee, grimacing as he swallows. Gerard knew that mostly everyone looked at him as a failure in PCW. he was a guy that talked a big game, but when push came to shove, he always managed to come up short. It was starting to seem like you could chalk up his legendary win over Kyle Shane as a fluke. Gerard was in the category of an also ran. A guy that when someone in twenty years is talking about wrestling and they brought up Gerard, the other guy would be like, “Damn, I forgot about him”. Gerard could accept that fate. He could accept the fact that he was always a guy on the cusp of greatness, but could never make the leap. But if there was one thing that Gerard was, it was that he was fucking stubborn. His ego wouldn’t let him accept that he wasn’t as good as these other guys. Gerard was every bit the wrestler Shane and Grimm are. He admits that at times he would lose focus on the ultimate goal, that sometimes his mind was elsewhere. But not this time. He had more than just his own selfish reasons for winning at Living a Legacy. He wasn’t just fighting for himself this time.
“Is this seat taken?”
Gerry is snapped from his thoughts by a doctor speaking to him. The man looked to be in his late forties, with slicked back, jet-black hair, slightly greying at the temples. He was dressed in scrubs and a white lab coat, and carried a cane. The doctor pulled out the plastic chair across from Gerard, laying his cane across his lap. Gerard stared at the man, there was something awfully familiar about him.
“Do I know you?” Gerard asked quizzically, raising an eyebrow. The doctor just laughed.
“I would hope you know me, Electi.” The doctor said, giving a grin. Gerard’s eyes widened.
“Ba’lal? Is that you?” Gerard asked before giving himself a pinch on his arm, “Am I dreaming?”
“You are not dreaming.” Ba’lal said,waving his hand.
“But I thought you couldn’t move around in the physical world?”
“My power grows stronger every day, boy.” he said with confidence, a smirk across his thin lips. “Soon I shall be powerful enough to complete my destiny.”
Ba’lal dropped the smirk and leaned closer to Gerard, his face turning serious.
“But I am not here about me. I am here to help you.”
“What do you mean?” Gerard asked, raising his eyebrow again.
“I saw what happened to the girl. A shame really.” The demi-god said, shaking his head back and forth. “But I do know what you seek, and where to find it.”
Gerard’s eyes widened.
“You know where Theo is?”
Ba’lal just nodded.
“Well where is he?” Gerard hissed. Ba’lal smirked again.
“Consider this an advance on one of your favors, boy.”
Ba’lal raised his hand out and extended his index finger. He reached across the table, pressing the slender digit to Gerard’s forehead. The point of contact quickly became a searing white pain and Gerard let out a cry before everything went dark.
12:43 AM
Theo walked out of the dive bar on shaky legs, stumbling slightly before catching himself. He chuckled and turned on his heel, hands shoved into the pockets of his bomber jacket as he walked down the street. It was a strange night in New York City, there seemed to not be a lot of people out tonight. Theo didn’t notice though, he was focused on making it to the safe house McLauren texted him about. From there they would get him on a plane and he could forget everything about this fake life he lived.
Theo needed to get a block over and came across an alley linking the two streets. He decided to take the shortcut, putting his head down as he walked the narrow passage between two apartment buildings. If Theo hadn’t spent the night guzzling beers down, he might have gotten the sense he was being watched the entire time.
“Hey you piece of shit.”
Theo turned around, seeing a man in a black hoodie behind him. Despite the first thought of it being a mugger, a knowing feeling washed over Theo.
“Well, well,” Theo said, pulling his big hands out of the pockets of his jacket, “If it isn’t the wrestler.”
Gerard lifted his hands up, and pulled the hood down, revealing his face, a scowl etched across it.
“So how’d you know it was me?” Theo asked with a smirk, turning his neck to the side and cracking it with an audible pop. Gerry just stared him down.
“I always knew you were a fuckin’ pussy,” Gerard said, clenching his fists. “So I just had to put the pieces together.”
“Still alive, huh?”
Gerard just glared a hole through the former linebacker.
“Ah, well, no matter then. I can always finish the job after…”
Theo gets cut off and Gerard sprints towards him, ramming a shoulder into his midsection, slamming him into a dumpster. They smash into a picture frame leaning up against it, sending glass shards everywhere on the asphalt. Theo grunts but clubs on the back of Gerard, the bigger man dropping the Hollywood Hero to his knees. A quick knee to the face knocks Gerry down, splitting his lip. Gerard shakes his head, dazed, but has no time to recover as a swift kick from Theo’s heavy-booted foot knocks the wind out of him. Theo chuckled as he stood over Gerard.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of fighter, huh?”
Gerard responds by kicking Theo in the family jewels, causing him to double over in pain. Gerard uses this as a chance to get to his feet, and throws a haymaker, connecting with the side of Theo’s jaw. It’s enough to stumble the big man, and Gerard rushes in with a furious flurry of strike to the face. It drops Theo to the ground and Gerard mounts him, repeatedly slamming his fist into the former pro athlete’s face, turning it from ruggedly handsome, to a bloody vicious parody of what he did to Kara. Theo has enough wits to drive a knee up into Gerry’s groin and he rolls over on top now, slamming his meaty fist into the actor’s face. Theo then wraps his massive hands around Gerry’s neck, pressing his thumbs against his windpipe.
Gerard struggles, frantically clawing and scratching at Theo’s hands and arms as he gasps for breath. Theo smirks as best as he can with bloody, broken, lips. Gerard starts to fade and lets go on Theo’s wrist, hands hands falling on the pavement.
“I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. First, I’m going to kill you. And then I’m gonna go finish off that dumb, little, slu…”
Theo’s words are cut off again, this time as he gasps and gurgles. His hands release Gerry’s neck and go to his own, trying to hold in the blood squirting from his jugular, pierced by the jagged piece of glass Gerard drove into it to free himself. Gerard gasped for air as he tried to suck the sweet gas into his lungs before pushing Theo’s body off of him. He lands flat on his back, his body wriggling as he desperately tries to keep himself from dying. Gerard pants next to him, feeling both vindicated and disgusted at the same time.
Somewhere, Ba’lal laughed. Phase one was complete