When I say Taylor's a big Octoling, I really fucking MEAN it. I'm 5'9", and he's an entire HEAD above me. And he don't look weak either. He's got some muscle on him. Not trying to be a racist, but he also had some coloration in his skin.
And then you look at me and go "Wow, there's a CLEAR difference between you two." He's bulky, and I'm over here, basically a fucking twig. Hey, I have been working on solving the anorexia, but I can't solve it quick enough to reach normal balance.
Anyways, me bitching aside, I stepped away from the wall and got right up into the Octoling's face, scowling and growling. Taylor furrowed his brows and raised his fists.
Taylor: Who the Hell do you think you are?
Me: Your eternal demise. Why do you ponder such bullshit?
Taylor: You got nerves to stare me in the eyes, kid. I'll have you know, I was second-in-command in the 47th Squadron.
Me: So? I can easily kick your ass silly.
Taylor: Big words from a small man. Now, I would say go on and get, but you just seem too cocky to pass up. Besides, I know you live in luxury, the amount of money you can make by turfing.
Me: I don't turf. I just live how I want to.
Taylor: So you live on benefits?
Me: I live with a very familiar Jackal. Goes by Zero.
Taylor: Let's just stop bitching and start clashing. It's time for fist to meet fist.
Me: Steel to meet steel.
I stepped back a bit and rubbed my fists against each other as Taylor rolled his neck around and knocked his fists together.
Taylor: Let's go.
Me: Just a thought, but how ironic is it that your first name is my last name?
Taylor: It's not that difficult to see why. At least a tenth of the population here has some form of Taylor in their names.
Damien: Stop bitching, start bashing.
Taylor took those words with a grain of salt and started swinging his sizable fists right at me. With him being trained in the force and my somewhat frailty, I found it difficult to dodge every one of his punches and ended up getting struck by most, if not, all of them. Every punch I felt, every strike he threw, I could feel his strength with the force of a cannon. I tried blocking and dodging, but he was just too quick, and by a minute's time, I was flat on my back, bloody and bruised, while Taylor was as clean as a whistle.
Taylor: Come on. Is that all you got? I'm barely winded. Come on, come at me.
Angela: Taylor, quit it now. He's not able to fight any longer.
Taylor: You call THAT fighting? He was basically like the punching bag I have back home. I mean, look at him. He's done, crushed, finished.
Angela: Show some mercy, you idiot. He clearly can't fight anymore.
Damien: Come on, Taylor. Give him the one-two. Knock him clean out.
Angela: You do that, Taylor, and I'm kicking your ass straight down to Hell.
Taylor: God never showed me mercy, so why should I? You remember my father.
Angela: Taylor, you need to understand that not everyone wants to fight.
Taylor: Many brave men and women see good fights, but not all see the sun set.
He climbed on top of my spindly frame, grabbed the sides of my head, and started bashing my skull against the concrete. Every strike I felt, it rocked my thoughts all over the place. Thinking from "Okay maybe I can survive," to "Oh god I'm dead as a doormat." The cracking of my skull on concrete made me phase in and out of consciousness as Taylor just kept beating me bloody.
YOU ARE READING
The Crystal Of Darkness
Adventure(Sequel to Once Human). It's been a year since Orange had taken his own life at his hands. Infinite had a crazy idea to try and bring our hero back to life again, and it works. It soon seems detrimentally clear that all all is not well. Orange has s...
