Chicago’s windy, neon-filled sky obscured the stars, creating a false nightscape. The inner city was more chaotic, as honking horns and screeching brakes filled the air.
Among the towering skyscrapers and bustling streets was a former boxing gym tucked away.
Debris and various pieces of equipment littered the ground. Several panels with the words “TJ COMBO” and Ultratech billboards flickered.
Cranes remained still, with wrecking balls creaking.
TJ stood alone, focused. Short black hair mixed with light gray stubble adorned his head. Across his left eye was a deep scar, leaving him half-blind.
A goatee encircled his firm lips. A blue workout shirt matching his star-spangled shorts covered his muscled build. His boxing shoes extended to his ankles.
His MMA-glove-clad fists swung as music played from a portable radio, matching TJ’s rhythm. As he stopped for a break, his body glistened with sweat. TJ loved coming to this place, reminding him of his glory days.
The welted scars lining his biceps reminded him of his mistakes.
Never again. Though not a saint, he was no one’s bitch. His remaining eye focused on the ruined walls as he examined the photos and news clippings. His heart sank at the sight of angry graffiti on the wall.
“FRAUD!” One message read.
“CON ARTIST!” Read another in bold.
“TJ sux,” another scrawled as if a nine-year-old had written it.
Other messages, such as racial slurs and phallic images, signaled contempt for the once-proud boxing king. TJ balled his fists, rage boiling in his veins.
He noted the swinging crane looming nearby while viewing the city. Sighing, he switched radio stations.
“Is your mood down? Is your love life different now? Try our all-new Willy Whopper 9000 cybernetic enhancements with spin action! For only 19,999.95-”
TJ twisted the knob. “My equipment works fine, thanks. Damn. I haven’t dated a woman for ages. Hm. Let’s see what else I can find.”
“COME ON DOWN TO LARRY’S FURNITURE, WHERE WE SELL THE LATEST HOVER-CHAIRS-”
Click.
“Lovin’ you-”
“Ugh! God, no!” TJ changed stations.
“If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends-”
Click.
“Puberty love!” a high-pitched voice sang off-key.
“Jesus Christ! What is this, the day music died? Fuck a duck!”
Click.
“The search is still underway for John Hargensen, who-”
TJ blinked when the sound ceased. He tested the radio by pressing the on-switch. Scowling, he shook and smacked it. Just great. The battery died. He grabbed a dirty towel sitting on a bench, wiping sweat off his face. What do I do now?
His involvement with Ultratech was disastrous. Now, he was back where he started.
TJ winced as a migraine arrived. He threw the towel aside and headed to the changing room.
* * *
TJ checked his reflection in the window when he arrived at Toons Bar & Grill. He wore a golden jumpsuit with sunglasses. He styled his hair in two small braids and left the upper part untouched, leaving the rest shaved.
YOU ARE READING
Killer Instinct: Carrie Unleashed
Fanfiction"Carrie had an ability, but she was a person, not a monster. She had hopes and fears, and we pushed her. You can only push a person so far before they break." A dark veil fell over Chamberlain, Maine, after tragedy struck the quiet town at the hands...
