Post by The Predator on Jun 25, 2012 23:17:23 GMT -6
Nobody likes a hospital hallway. Immaculately clean, white, sterile, these care facilities should be the very picture of comfort, but instead, simply because they carry the guarantee of pain or a loved one in it, they always seem to appear ominous. One merely needs to watch horror movies.
The Predator walks down the hall stiffly, in a suit, with John at his side. They look drawn, tired, and scared. Predator whispers first, breaking the tension.
"What happened?"
John swallows.
"She was, emotional. Not thinking right. That match was a damn emotional rollercoaster. I think she was, distraught. Wasn't looking. Ran a red. It was bad, Dylan."
He clutches his ribs briefly, winces, then nods.
"I could have killed Hawk. Bring in a paid referee to stack the deck, and not even have the balls to finish what you started. I'd have beaten him, John, and he knew it."
John nods. "That's pretty clear, champ. Which is what you wanted most, after all this. Pretty clear to me that's why he left."
That statement creates silence. The two men walk, side by side, a bit longer, till the encounter a door. They pause, and the Predator whitens. "I haven't done this since Daniel...Yeah. No. Not thinking like that. Let's go."
The hospital room is generously appointed with flowers, gifts, and well wishes. Lana is asleep on the bed in the center of the room. Her features are bruised. She is asleep.
John sits down in a chair in the rooms corner, and seems to close his eyes. The Predator sits in another seat, right at the side of the bed. He has been using a cane. He grasps her hand gently.
"Hey, kid. I came as soon as I could. I had to get fixed up a bit myself. You saw. It got a bit ugly."
She's still sleeping. He's talking for himself as much as her.
"The chair bruised some ribs. Knee's badly bruised, but it should heal up nicely. I have some swelling to my, bits and pieces, but that'll be alright too. Couple stitches around my eyes, couple more in my mouth. All in all, considering all the dirty shit he did to me, I made it out alright."
She fidgets.
"I was okay, kid. You didn't have to freak out. I was okay.
Her eyes open, and she smiles. "I'm a hot head, big guy. I'm sorry.
Predator laughs. "Hey, don't be sorry. I should have brought a tazer into the ring like you suggested! I really thought he'd play fair. I overestimated him."
She rolls over to face him.
"Every one in the crowd knew you were the winner. It got you a world title shot."
Predator snorts. "Idol and his lackeys seem to think it's a world title execution. I think the plan all along was for Hawk to do damage. Win, lose, or draw. But it's okay. I've got a surprise for them."
She smiles. "What's that?"
He smiles back. "I'm going to take that smug bastard's title."
-----
The Predator exits the hospital, walking out towards the parking lot. He is alone. He withdraws his cellphone from his pocket, and dials a number as he enters his car.
"It's the Predator. Dylan. It's time we met. I think we have a lot to talk about. Call me back, give me a time and a place."
He hangs up, and closes the car door.
Blackout.
The Predator walks down the hall stiffly, in a suit, with John at his side. They look drawn, tired, and scared. Predator whispers first, breaking the tension.
"What happened?"
John swallows.
"She was, emotional. Not thinking right. That match was a damn emotional rollercoaster. I think she was, distraught. Wasn't looking. Ran a red. It was bad, Dylan."
He clutches his ribs briefly, winces, then nods.
"I could have killed Hawk. Bring in a paid referee to stack the deck, and not even have the balls to finish what you started. I'd have beaten him, John, and he knew it."
John nods. "That's pretty clear, champ. Which is what you wanted most, after all this. Pretty clear to me that's why he left."
That statement creates silence. The two men walk, side by side, a bit longer, till the encounter a door. They pause, and the Predator whitens. "I haven't done this since Daniel...Yeah. No. Not thinking like that. Let's go."
The hospital room is generously appointed with flowers, gifts, and well wishes. Lana is asleep on the bed in the center of the room. Her features are bruised. She is asleep.
John sits down in a chair in the rooms corner, and seems to close his eyes. The Predator sits in another seat, right at the side of the bed. He has been using a cane. He grasps her hand gently.
"Hey, kid. I came as soon as I could. I had to get fixed up a bit myself. You saw. It got a bit ugly."
She's still sleeping. He's talking for himself as much as her.
"The chair bruised some ribs. Knee's badly bruised, but it should heal up nicely. I have some swelling to my, bits and pieces, but that'll be alright too. Couple stitches around my eyes, couple more in my mouth. All in all, considering all the dirty shit he did to me, I made it out alright."
She fidgets.
"I was okay, kid. You didn't have to freak out. I was okay.
Her eyes open, and she smiles. "I'm a hot head, big guy. I'm sorry.
Predator laughs. "Hey, don't be sorry. I should have brought a tazer into the ring like you suggested! I really thought he'd play fair. I overestimated him."
She rolls over to face him.
"Every one in the crowd knew you were the winner. It got you a world title shot."
Predator snorts. "Idol and his lackeys seem to think it's a world title execution. I think the plan all along was for Hawk to do damage. Win, lose, or draw. But it's okay. I've got a surprise for them."
She smiles. "What's that?"
He smiles back. "I'm going to take that smug bastard's title."
-----
The Predator exits the hospital, walking out towards the parking lot. He is alone. He withdraws his cellphone from his pocket, and dials a number as he enters his car.
"It's the Predator. Dylan. It's time we met. I think we have a lot to talk about. Call me back, give me a time and a place."
He hangs up, and closes the car door.
Blackout.