Post by J on May 1, 2021 16:04:08 GMT -5
//OFF CAMERA//
Reno, Nevada
Wednesday April 28th 2021
Late Night
Richard Rhodes The Third was not in a great, mood. He wasn’t actually even in a good mood, or in a decent mood or a less than stellar mood to put it bluntly he was in a shit mood. Not just in a regular oh a rough day at the office type of shit mood either, like nuclear uranium levels of talking about glowing in the dark shit’s kinda mood. Sitting in one of the many dives a city like Reno had plenty. Everyone who has ever been to bars knows the type, those who haven’t been to them, think of the shady, dimly lit dumps shown in movies that are filled to the brim with even shadier people: Got that? Good, now go about ten times worse.
So if nothing else the setting fit to his mood as Rhodes ordered another drink. He had walked around the streets aimlessly at first, For hours he went around until he had to stop for a drink, last thing he wanted was to be seen by anyone who recognized him so he ducked into one of the many side streets, then found an alley, and a few more and ended up in this shithole he was now in. He didn’t know the name of the bar, nor did he care. The few windows it had were so damn dirty that you couldn’t even see out from them, not that there was much to look at, except Ricky assumed the shit outside the bar was nicer than all the shit inside it.
He put up 2 of his fingers gesturing for a refill and a barkeeper who looked like he had seen his best days sometime the better half of last millennium puffed out cigar smoke at him and Ricky put up a couple of crisp bills on the counter. Just like that the bills were gone and he got two glasses of that delicious golden nectar that was whiskey..at least it tasted like whisky even if it didn’t look like it.
He sat there, time seemed to lose all meaning the world around him stopped existing Nico Pazzini, Vincenzo Riina and everyone else along with them. All he needed was this drink, and the drink after that. Soon enough the wiry man didn’t even realize that after he finished a drink he already pulled out more bills to pay for the next one. It became automatic like out of muscle memory. His vision blurred but it didn’t matter. His barstool became wobbly but he just swayed along to it. All the guitars on the songs melted into one continuous riff full of distortion then suddenly he realized that the glass he had reached for wasn’t there. He tried once, twice but even on the third time his fingers didn’t meet the glass. Looking up he saw the barkeeper.
“I think you’ve had enough bub.” He gargled.
“I don’t think I have.” Ricky said and went to swipe the glass from the barkeeper’s grip but since he was sober he was quicker than Rhodes, one hand pushed him back and Ricky would have fallen on his ass unless he hadn’t miraculously grabbed the bar in a nick of time. Looks like wrestling had done good for his reflexes after all.
“There’s a drink for ya..” The barkeep gargled offering Ricky a dirty glass.
“Gulp it down and get out.”
Ricky picked up the glass, didn’t smell alcohol in his drink, going to glug it down until he realized what it was. With one swift motion he throws the drink to the bar keepers face.
“Water is for washing!”
“You little shit”
That was the last thing he heard, before a tight grip grabbed him around the collar of his coat and yanked him off the barstool, he tried fighting but all he felt was his shoes slipping as the barkeeper dragged him towards the throw, any punch he threw was missing and when they got out he he flew a distance landing face first to the dirty alleyway.
“And stay out!”
Barkeeper hollered before heading to the only source of light left on the alley.
“Yeah? fuck you too! Your drinks were watered down and overpriced anyway!”
Rhodes manages to yell out staggering up just as the the door in front of him gets thrown shut in his face. He staggered on forward, unzipped his slacks, and started to relieve himself against the wall. A little more piss wouldn’t change this dump one way or another, he figured chuckling to himself before finishing his business zipping himself up and headed towards where he assumed the main streets to be. What Ricky didn’t see though was a group of dark figures following after him, nods, muttered discussion and few smirks as they followed him from a distance.
Few blocksi down or maybe more, Ricky realized he was lost. Not only was he lost but he had no idea just where the hell he was at all. Then a voice spoke up to him: “Hey man, got a light” He turned to see three figures with hooded sweatshirts, hoods over their heads.
“Fuck off..” He slurred out.
“No need to be rude man, I was just asking for a light, but since you are acting like that maybe I’ll take everything you got. Give me your wallet.” Spoke up the one in red, the one two others followed after him.
“I said..fuck off” Ricky repeated himself as the trio got closer he heard a click and saw a blade.
“Wrong answer man.” Said the speaker he dove for Ricky who manages to stumble on further down the alley. He ran as as fast as he could and luckily for him Ricky Rhodes had done a lot of running away over his years, because even while drunk he managed to keep up somewhat speedy retreat, of course the sober (or at least less intoxicated) chasers were catching up to him, slowly and surely. When Rhodes saw a beacon of light, a salvation in a form of a neon sign. He pushed himself and his body to it’s limits darting for the sign hearing the sneakers of his attackers squeak right behind him. He wanted to jump onto a large trash container, vault hsi way to the roof and keep going, sadly life and reality had other plans and he stepped on something slippery getting on the metal lid, slipped and fell down back first to the ground. Groggy as he was he saw the figures walk closer, knowing full well he wouldn’t run anywhere caught between them and the trash container.
“Oh shit man, that looked like it hurt.” The speaker said and smirk “Don’t worry, it’s going to hurt a lot more soon.” Ricky said his prayers to the heaven closing his eyes trying to imagine his girlfriend instead of his attackers smile for the last thing he’d se.
Preparing himself for the pain from the blade, but the pain never came. Instead what he heard was a booming voice.
“Who the fuck’s out there! Get the hell out of there right now or I’ll call the--”
Then a moment that seemed like an eternity.
“Oh fucking really, not on my watch you little shits..”
Ricky didn’t dare to open his eyes but soon enough he heard some screams, loud thuds as human body got slammed to metal, the trash container echoing and a few loud as ever cracks, then whales from the one who had spoken to him. “You broke my fucking nose!” Then the strange booming voice responded.
“And I’ll break your face next if you don’t get to stepping...get your boyfriends and fuck on out of here before I really lose my temper..and next time I see any of you around here again, I will call the cops!”
Scurried sounds as the squeaky sneakers ran to the night as silence landed Rhodes finally dared to open his eyes, watching the lonesome figure standing over him.
“Oh it’s YOU!” was all he could say, before it got dark again.
He never saw that fist coming..
~To Be Continued~