Bloodlust : The Start

Before it came crashing down.

Five years. It had been five years since I joined( albeit, by force) the A5 Team. Five years with a new look, a new identity and a new outlook on life.

And all it took was two hours which led to the moment that changed my life. Forever.

I still remembered the day. It was as fresh in my mind as a freshly dreamt nightmare. The day I was taken. Kidnapped, if you will.

It had been a particularly gruelsome day at the underground boxing club, I waitressed in. At age 17, with parents who preferred their overachieving son over a mess of a daughter, I had to save up to go to college. My only escape from the hellhole I currently lived in.
The club was pretty popular, it being the weekend hangout spot for the flurry of jocks and barbies in my second hellhole, school.

Now, don't get me wrong. I wasn't bullied or anything of that sort. In fact it was the complete opposite. Everyone feared me. To the point where people even turned the other way when I approached them. Not that I was very social in the first place. It was still funny to see the fear on the girls faces when they scurried out of the locker room when I entered.

How did it start?

Well, it started with a game of dodgeball that went horribly wrong. Wrong for the person who 'accidentally' threw the ball on my fabulous head. Mellissa Jameson had always hated me. Maybe because my brother was the 'King' of the school (before he graduated) or because I was naturally a hundred times hotter than her cakey self. Whatever the reason, I knew she wanted me gone. In the end, the only thing gone was her perfectly structured plastic surgeon-touched nose. By the time I was done with her, her face resembled a sandwich dipped in ketchup. Needless to say, everyone pretty much kept their noses to themselves after that. Literally.

The boxing club aptly named 'The fight club' (original, I know) , offered everything from food and drinks to bruised bloodied hunks. And of course, the occasional pick up spot for anyone who wanted to get laid. Anybody who dared place bets stood a chance of getting rich overnight. All of this added to the revenue of the place, making me get a more than sufficient salary, not including tips.

Which was exactly why I was willing to ignore the resident devils of Lesterville High School to work here. The peak hours of the club were from midnight to early morning hours on Fridays and Saturdays.

The club saw a lot of egoistic pricks trying out their luck and going home with more than a few broken bones.

But only one went home unscathed, with his Greek God face and body intact.
Two words.

Eliseo Walderman.

Those two words were all it took for the peasants and royals of LHS to fall and grovel at his feet. And girls, well, on his d**k.

Was I included in those two categories? Fortunately, no. I considered my self higher than the royals and lower than the peasants.

There were many words they used to describe Eliseo; sexy, Godlike, perfect, daddy *gag* and of course, the 'King' of LHS. Read : Man whore.
But only I had the privilege to call him a certain word. Friend.

Best friend, in fact.

Yes, Eliseo Walderman was the younger brother to my brother's best friend. Which naturally led to us becoming inseparable when our older brothers ditched us when they were supposed to 'babysit'. Our friendship ranged from naked water fights (we were 3, mind you) to full fledged (and clothed) food fights. He was my twin and that's all we were. Siblings from different wombs. Brother from another mother. Sib from another crib. Twin from another kin.

You get the point.

It also helped that he had an unrequited crush on the girl I called ' my main bitch'. My other friend and the only other person who could put up with my mood swings. Vanessa Haydren. She was as hot as they come, but obviously not up to my level yet.

I remembered that it was a usual Friday night. I came in early, donned the ridiculously bright yellow apron, cleaned the tables and pitied the morning shift workers who would have to clean last nights blood, sweat and puke. As the clock struck 12, the place was completely packed to the brim, the catchy tune of a generic pop song barely heard over the cheers and boos of the crowd.

The boxing ring which was in the middle of the bar showed two amateurs fighting it out. The match lasted a total of two minutes after which a break was announced. This was the busiest part of the night, when the audience left the bar to catch up on their drinks. I was serving the largest table which held everyone I despised, save two, Eliseo and Nessa.

Flashback -

"Can I take your orders please?" I asked in the sweetest tone I could muster.

"Sure you can, sweetcheeks. I'll have a vodka coke with a side of you." Mark, the wannabe Eliseo smirked at me with a wink. I held my clipboard tighter, two seconds away from bashing it in his face. Luckily, the real Eliseo came to my rescue. Or should I say his rescue?

"Trust me dude, you do not want to do this if you value your face." He told Mark, giving me a hearty grin. He knew me too well. Well enough to predict the future of his friend's face if he messed with me.

As I took the orders one by one, my eyes landed on her. And by the glare on her face coupled with her calculating look, she was planning something.

I tapped my pen on the clipboard waiting for Blondie to reply. And when she opened her mouth, I regretted wanting her to speak.

"Is it just me or has the bad girl kept her punch to herself these days? Lost your touch, baby bird?" Mellissa snickered, reminding everyone of the day I punched her. And what a day that was! I wonder if I could do that again someday.

And baby bird? Seriously?
Phoenix's never went through the baby phase, Blondie. And yes, my parents named me after a bird that didn't exist.

But whatever.

"Not really. I just haven't found anyone suitable for my fist yet. Oh wait, looks like I have." I throw a mock punch at her, stopping just inches away from her nose.

Oooh how I loved the fear in those annoying eyes.

She bit back her fear and smirked again.

"It must be easy for you to terrorize innocent girls but I'd like you to do the same to someone who actually knows how to fight."

Terrorizing innocent girls? She's making me sound like a creepy pedophile.

"What are you trying to say?" I asked her, my right eye twitching.

"You must have heard of Raven. The best female fighter in here. One fight, that's all I'm asking. If you win, which I'm sure you won't, I'll do whatever you ask me to do. You lose, you're my slave for the rest of the school year. What say?"