3 Days Ago...
After the subway incident...
The two goons, one with sunglasses and the other without, were walking through the city bloody and bruised after just getting their asses handed to them by Ronaldo.
"I can't believe you let that happen,'' the sunglasses goon said, while clutching his crumpled up, bloody hand.
"You're the one that got your face punched into the ground," said the goon without sunglasses.
"Was that was you or me that got punched into the ground?" The goon with sunglasses said while looking up with a ponderous gaze.
"Hmmm." Said the other goon, who was also put into a daze by this question.
This question took full grasp of their brains as they navigated the unkept, and spray painted docks near the warehouse district(an area that had primarily been used as a place to store shipped goods, but most warehouses were outta use).
The goons walked towards a warehouse that had old metal panels and sheets of wood that acted as a makeshift wall around the building. The wall was tagged with various orange viper designs and tough phrases. The two goons walked through an opening in the wall that acted as the entrance, into the yard which was laden with many other gaudy orange jacket-wearing hooligans, each preoccupied with various dealings, from fisticuffs to doing bench presses. The two goons walked passed them and entered the warehouse.
They entered the building, which looked much tidier and organized than one would expect from a gang of hooligans. The place had training mats and a functional food court.
At the center of the warehouse was a tall throne that was cast in shadow. At the top of it sat a medium-sized girl with a long object wrapped in cloth. The two goons nervously approached the throne and bowed. The girl that sat at the top looked down at them and scoffed.
"What are you two doing here, and why do you guys look so messed up, and where's Hector?" She asked. The two goons looked very nervous. The one with the busted up hand began to speak.
"We don't know where Hector is. We lost him as soon as we..." The goon started to sweat.
"As soon as you what?" The girl began to lean forward. The other goon began to nervously put his words together.
"We, uh lost a fight..."
"Huh." The girl said in a disgusted tone. "How many guys were you up against?" The two goons paused and looked at one another. "Were you two beaten deaf, or are you intentionally being disrespectful to me right now?"
"It was one guy..." She paused momentarily, slowly leaning forward, rage burning in her face.
"What did you say?" Chills ran up the goons's spines. The one with sunglasses began to speak.
"He was really strong boss, not even Hector could beat him."
"Yeah," the one without sunglasses said. "He was a weird guy with an umbrella." The girl on the throne perked up with interest. She sat surprised for a few moments before a grin went across her face.
"Looks like I finally found you again Ronaldo." A fire was lit in her eyes after saying his name. "Assemble the lieutenants. Looks like we have a fish to fry."
A look of relief came over the goons's faces. They started to get up from bowing until a large hand reached from a looming figure behind the goons and started crushing the bloodied hand of the goon wearing sunglasses. He let out a piercing scream.
"AHHHHHHH!"
The looming figure let go, and the goon fell to the floor, writhing in pain. The other goon looked up at the throne in fear.
The girl on the throne chuckled. "I don't remember dismissing you." She stood up. "You still need to receive your punishments." She ran her hand through her fine long straight black hair, before looking down and smiling. "Isn't that right boys?"
YOU ARE READING
Tales From New Jump City
HumorEmi is a school journalist whose life gets turned upsidedown one day when a normal commute back home gets interrupted by a local gang and a mysterious stranger carrying a sword-shaped object wrapped in cloth. This event sets off a series of events t...