“Hmph,” Marcus grunted as he took a seat at the bar and downed another glass of water. After Seven went down the bar was suddenly and awkwardly silent.
He glanced over at the bouncer who was now on his third, possibly forth, glass of liquor. “That stuff will dull your senses. Makes you much less alert.”
The bouncer looked at his glass thoughtfully for a moment, then shrugged as he guzzled it all down and poured some more. He shook his head to fight off the burn and glanced over at Marcus. “Who says I need to be alert?”
“Whatever…” Marcus mumbled as silence still hung in the air. “You aren’t much for security.”
“I’m not even security, boy.” The man said with a grin as he straightened his tie and stood up. "In fact, here in Asino I guess you could call me Mr. President if that’s what you’re used to…but the name’s Alec.”
For the first time Marcus looked pretty shocked as he shot up from his chair and started to move aggressively toward Alec.
“OH! Also, I’d like you to meet a couple ’a my friends.” Alec said enthusiastically.
Alec gestured toward the entrance of the bar and a tall and imposing figure stepped in slowly as if on cue. He had military-style cropped blonde hair and wore a white shirt and tattered jeans with old brown work boots. On his right forearm he bore a club tattoo like the others that came before him, except his mark was adorned with a golden crown and spattered in blood. This man was massive in every sense, with rippling biceps and a torso that threatened to tear his shirt.
Right behind him followed another man: Much smaller in stature and very slender, he wore all black and had short jet black hair which appeared to be slicked back with grease. On the left side of this man’s neck was a very simple and telling tattoo: A Jack of Clubs card.
The two clubs stood side by side with arms crossed, staring blankly at Marcus.
"This the one, boss?” asked King in a deep and gravelly voice.
Alec nodded. “Took out three of your men without breakin’ a sweat. Seemed like a challenge to me. I figured you’d want to take care of this one personally. It’s not really any of my business yet…”
King cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck. His movements were methodical and slow. Jack, meanwhile, appeared to take a fighting stance. He lowered himself, spreading his legs apart to better anchor himself as he raised his fists.
Marcus continued to look on silently as King took a step forward and held his arm out as if to halt Jack.
Then without warning, King rushed at Marcus shoulder first. Shoulder met jaw, and both men crashed hard into the bar sending wood splinters of various sizes in every direction. The bartender now fled, and most of the rest of the place had long cleared out. What few stragglers there were, however, quickly made their exits as King rose back to his feet and wiped the debris from his shirt.
Before Marcus could slump to the ground or even try to catch his bearings, King grabbed him by the throat and had him up in the air, strangling him. Marcus pulled at King’s massive hand with both of his, trying to relinquish some of the larger man’s grasp, but to no avail. He kneed King in the chest several times, hoping that would be enough, but again the results were less than satisfying as King didn’t appear to even register the hits.
Marcus snarled and spat in King’s face. “Piece of shit,” he managed to choke out through desperate gasps for air.
King frowned and wiped his face clean with his free hand. “You shouldn’t have done that…”
Marcus instinctively brought his hands up to block as King’s massive fist drew back and quickly came forward on a crash course for his mouth. The attempt to guard was useless as King’s fist broke through easily, and Marcus heard and felt the distinct pop of knuckles meeting teeth. A succession of similar punches followed, and it was only seconds before all Marcus could taste was the iron of his own blood as he felt consciousness slipping away.
His body was beginning to go limp and Marcus knew it was only a matter of time before he would be completely incapable of fighting back. Summoning what little strength he had left, Marcus tilted his head down and with his last punch King hit nothing but forehead. As he brought his fist back in surprise and shook off the sting, Marcus was afforded an opening, and he took it. Bringing both arms up, he drove his fists into both sides of King’s throat and sent the big man staggering back, coughing and grabbing at his own neck now as he released Marcus, who fell to his knees.
Wiping the blood from his mouth, Marcus licked his lips and stumbled up to his feet. “You big fucking freak. Let’s see how you like it on the receiving end.”
Marcus speared King, and in a surprising show of strength aided by adrenaline, Marcus lifted the big man into the air and spun completely around with him over his shoulder, throwing King onto the bar top with a loud crack. Like lightning Marcus was on top of King, pounding relentlessly at his jaw. The hits started coming too fast for King to try and block, and by the time they were connecting he was too surprised to do anything about it.
Blood flew as King’s jawbone gave way and broke on both sides, but Marcus didn’t stop. In a rage-filled flurry he drove his elbow rapidly into King’s temple several times. Finally, King’s body lay lifeless atop the bar and, with a sigh of relief, Marcus jumped down off of the bar top and turned to face Jack. “You’re turn now, huh little guy?”
Jack shook his head almost mechanically as Marcus heard shifting behind him, followed by a pained groan and the thud of boots hitting the hardwood floor.
Goddammit.
“I’ve never had my jaw broken before.” King growled from behind Marcus as he rolled his neck and shoulders to loosen up.
Marcus turned slowly to see the big man once again towering over him, and without warning he felt a huge hand closing around his windpipe with crushing force. For the second time, Marcus was dangling in the air and at the mercy of his opponent.
“I’ve got just the trick for taking care of punks like you...” King reached into his pocket with his free hand as he spoke, and when he pulled his fist back out Marcus’ eyes widened at what he saw: King had produced a pair of brass knuckles, and what’s worse, every knuckle was individual studded.
Meanwhile, Alec stumbled by to grab another bottle of whiskey from the pile of wood that was once a bar. King suddenly stopped the beating for a moment, waiting to continue until Alec was back in his seat. By now, Marcus' senses were fading and he was nearly completely out of it as he hung in the air by his throat, but he remembered that he had brought something with him: his gun. Taking the pause in King's assault as an opportune moment to turn the tides in his favor once again, Marcus reached down for his gun and grabbed it from it's holster.
Without warning the beating resumed as Alec passed back by to go to his seat, and King struck twice like lightning, hitting Marcus in the jaw with both shots. Enraged by the sudden surge of pain, Marcus was awakened anew and brought his gun up swiftly, striking King rapidly in the temple with a relentless trio of pistol whips.
The towering man released his grip, and as soon as his feet hit the ground Marcus lunged at King and drove him to the ground. Teeth beared and growling, Marcus drove the butt of his gun into King's face over and over again in a blind fury. Finally when the big man was no longer showing signs of life, Alec staggered up from his seat and, visibly drunk, waved his arms to call for the fight to end.
Marcus looked up at Alec and holstered his gun, slowly rising to assume a defensive stance.
"King...you can go home now," Alec managed to slur through hiccups.
King's body remained lifeless aside from shallow breaths, and as Alec slumped back into his chair and drank the last literal drop of whiskey with a look of despair, a few of his men dragged the battered leader of the Clubs out of Heart's Desire.
With King's exit, the smaller Club started to slowly make his way toward Marcus.
"Alright tough guy, just 'cause you brought down the boss, you probably think this'll be easy huh? Well, looks can be deceiving ya' fuckin' mook. I may look like a Patronian Jungle Monkey, but I'll whip your ass like a Rock Lizard."
Marcus grumbled as the little man spoke. All the shit talking continued as Jack approached but started to trail off, going in one ear and out the other until finally the Jack of Clubs was standing face to face with Marcus.
The silence weighed heavily in the air as the two men locked eyes.
Unnoticed, Alec moved drunkenly beside Jack, and seemingly without reason struck him in the side of the head with thunderous force using the back of his hand, sending the little man crashing to the ground unconscious.
"Geez, mook isn't even a fucking word Jack. I told you to stop sayin' all that crazy shit. It annoys me."
Alec turned to face Marcus and grinned. "I decided it's my turn."
To be continued...
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