Fan Fiction ❯ Unwelcome Hope ❯ The Enigma Meets the Giant ( Chapter 4 )

Unwelcome Hope

Chapter 3 - The Enigma Meets the Giant

The other man's eyes went wide and his mouth agape as blood poured out from it. There was nothing left for him but to die. His vision went red and his breath slowed. There was nothing but pain. He didn't even feel Jon kick his dying body off of his blade. He didn't feel the concrete beneath him. And finally, he didn't feel…

…Anything.

"What a waste of time and life. The weak shouldn't fight, nor should those without the sense to see when they've lost. A good fighter knows when he's lost before the battle is over. Unfortunately for your friend, it's already too late to do anything about it… And now he's dead." Jonathan stepped past the corpse of Little, without so much as acknowledging the body. "I truly hope that you two have more sense."

"But we have a problem now, don't we Dave?" Middle asked, presumably to the taller of the goons. "You've already proclaimed your superiority and victory over us. Would we not be best to leave now? Without so much as lifting a hand in battle?"

"That's the question isn't it? However, neither of you have the sense to turn away and leave, even when death," Jon pointed to himself, "stares you right in the face."

"So you say. Curiosity is a human trait, though. And I cannot simply turn away from this without finding out for myself if you really are as tough as you say."

"And so I'll kill you."

Now the taller of the two remaining goons stepped forward, an obvious challenge to Jon. The garment he wore was nearly identical of that which Little had worn. The only difference Jon could see between the two was the long metal pole, which this "Dave" carried (and it was nearly as long as Jon), and the patch on the vest. Little had worn a diamond and this man wore a club. The realization of this made Jon's eyes narrow again. His suspicions seemed to him truer with every moment. One thing was certain though: this was not good.

Dave stepped forward again and what he did, surprised even Jon. When Dave was in arms' reach, he tossed the pole to the side. It made a high pitch clang as it bounced off the cement street and rolled to a stop.

"A little confident, are we? Or perhaps after seeing your friends demise, you know better?"

"I don't need that to crush you," Dave warned, his voice booming.

"Is that so?"

Jon swung his fist with a punch that would've hit a normal-sized man in the face; however, it hit Dave squarely in the chest. The big man only grunted before retaliating. With one big swing, he backhanded Jon across the face, sending him sprawling backward to the ground.

Laying on the ground, Jon propped himself up on his left arm. He stared back up at Dave with a look that held no amusement, yet no fear. It was a blank stare, the kind you get when you realize you might have been wrong, but don't want to say anything. That hit had landed like a sack of doorknobs across Jon's face and he was now the wiser for it.

In what seemed like slow motion, Jon turned his head and spat off to the side. A tiny amount of relief came when he noticed there wasn't any blood. Satisfied, he pushed himself back up to his feet and ran his hands across his clothes, dusting off any dirt that might have collected from his fall. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then stood there, giving Dave a look that promised pain.

It was his turn now and he showed it by making his own offensive. He quickly swung his left leg up in a kick that caught Dave in the right kidney. Dave grunted and reflexively grabbed his side. By now though, Jon was already making his next move, with a series of punches to the lower abdomen of Dave. The big man reeled back slightly.

In a desperation move, Dave swung another one of his huge backhands. This time, Jon was ready for it and ducked under, swiftly getting behind the giant. Jon pushed his advantage as he began a series of punches to the kidney of earlier. Dave tried to turn to defend himself, but the littler of the two kicked the back of his knee, sending him to a knee. Jon then delivered an uppercut to Dave.

The blow sent the big man to the ground with the knowledge that Jon was not to be underestimated because of his size. Although Dave was nearly a foot taller and a lot bulkier, Jon still packed one hell of a punch.

Jon finally let up on his assault, letting the big man get back to his feet. When he did, he didn't look pleased with Jon.

"You little shit. You may be strong for your size, but I can still crush you."

"Blah, blah, blah. Are we going to fight or what?"

Dave didn't imitate his dead friend, who would've simply charged Jon. No, he went back to plan b. He walked back to the middle of the road and proceeded to pick up his large staff. Jon saw this as a good time to get out his own toy. The blade was dull with drying blood. Jon would clean it when he got the chance, but now he intended to add to the stain.

A flash. A clash.

Dave towered over Jon, his staff held up at about chest level. He did this for one reason: to block the sword that was aimed at his head. Jon was poised before Dave, his sword ready to cut this man in two. Had Dave reacted any slower, he'd have been a dead man.

It was during this power struggle that Dave once again did something Jon wouldn't have predicted. He faded left, using Jon's momentum carry him forward. When Jon turned to face Dave, all he could do was watch as the big man slammed his staff into his chest.

The staff hit like the hammer of Thor. All the air was driven from Jon's lungs and all he felt was himself being lifted off the ground from the force. The strike was so hard, it sent him crashing through a nearby glass window, that until this day, had remained in tact. Today though, it shattered into hundreds of pieces.

Jon landed on the ground hard, bouncing slightly off the department store's tile floor and the shattered glass that had gotten caught underneath. The shattered pieces dug into his arm, cutting his shoulder up. When he finally rolled to a stop, droplets of blood had already begun to form where they had cut.

Jon didn't really feel that. All he could feel now was the incredible pain in his chest. Perhaps Dave had even shattered a few of Jon's ribs. He didn't know; he couldn't think. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and groaning. Although he couldn't think right now, he did hear the crunching of glass and he knew that Dave was coming.

The crunching of glass got nearer and as Jon looked up, a flash of silver caught his eye. Quickly he rolled out of the way, just as Dave's staff came down. There was a loud clang as the metal smacked off the tile flooring.

Dave swung again and Jon rolled again. Once again the metal hammered off the floor. He swung again. Jon rolled. Dave missed. This pattern continued for several minutes before Dave finally let up, realizing the futility of such actions. Jon got back to his feet and dusted himself off.

Glancing around, Jon noticed that the other remaining thug had followed them into the store. At the moment, he showed no signs of wanting to get involved, but Jon still didn't trust him. What made the situation even worse was that Jon's own sword sat at the feet of Middle, who only stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He made no move toward it though.

Returning his concentration back to his taller opponent, he briefly considered the past couple of minutes. Jonathan had underestimated him; he knew that know. By just assuming he was slow because of his size was a mistake, as was assuming he was as dumb as an ox. This Dave had a couple of moves. Jon would have to keep that in mind.

The two of them squared off. Dave stood ready, staff held in a horizontal position in front of him. Jon was sword-less now, which would make this all the more difficult. All he could do in preparation was get into his crouched fighting stance and wait. He couldn't keep himself from glancing over at his sword though. Lying among the glass and sitting at Middle's feet, it still retaining some shine, even in this dimly lit building.

It was then that Dave struck. While Jon was once again preoccupied, Dave took a quick step forward and jammed his staff into Jon's stomach, doubling him over. Followed by an upward strike, he caught Jon in the face and sent him straight to the floor. Jon was not caught on his back this time and immediately flipped himself back to his feet.

Dave tried to press his advantage and proceeded to swing at Jon in a wide fashion. During this, Jon finally found an opening and took it. Dave swung wide and Jon ducked under, with a quick leap, Jon rammed his knee into Dave's gut, causing him to grunt and double over.

Jon took off running. He knew that if he were going to get this done with minimal damage to himself, he'd need his sword to do it. So it was toward his sword that he ran. Toward the broken glass and toward Middle, who made no movement.

He was too caught up in trying to get his sword back. That's why Jon didn't hear the low whistling sound creeping up from behind him. He felt it though, as the staff slammed into his body and sent him collapsing to the floor, clutching his back in pain.

Dave had only needed this time to catch up to the fallen warrior. Jon knew he had caught up because he could feel himself being lifted off the ground by the shirt and pants. He then felt Dave carrying him over to the nearest wall. He then felt the pain as Dave started to slam his body against it.

The wall had been made out of brick, but because brick wasn't pleasing to look at, the owners had put up a small sheet rock wall in front of it. This crumbled to pieces as Dave rammed Jon into it. Debris fell to the floor and Jon began to yelp with each hit. The sheet rock had fallen apart now and hard brick with each shot was meeting him.

Dave finally let go and Jon fell to the floor in a heap, covered in dust and broken wall. Coughing a few times, Jon felt a bit of blood start to trickle from the corner of his mouth. No doubt some internal bleeding was taking place.

"Sunnuvabitch," Jon muttered.

Dave laughed and stepped back. Getting back to his feet yet again, Jon wiped the blood from his mouth and didn't bother to dust himself off this time. He had obviously underestimated this Dave and had paid the price for it. He hadn't factored all the possibilities and suffered. Plan A wasn't working too well.

"Plan B then," he whispered.

Swiftly he went for the gun still holstered on his hip. No sooner than he pulled it out than he dropped it in a surge of pain in his hand. Looking down, a Chinese throwing star was sticking out of his hand and blood was running down from it. Glancing over at him, Middle stood with one arm outstretched and a single finger waving back and forth, telling Jon that guns were a no-no.

Cursing under his breath, Jon pulled the star out of his hand and tossed it off to the side. Ripping a piece of the bottom of his shirt off, he tied it around the wound. Thankfully no major veins or arteries had been hit. It still hurt like hell. Before he'd get back to his fight, he made sure to turn and give Middle the middle finger.

"Ah look, he's upset," Middle taunted from across the room.

Dave made his move, only this time, Jon had been waiting for it. As Dave swung his staff again, Jon ducked under and lunged at Dave. He then drove his elbow right into Dave's face, causing the big man to stumble backward, clutching his face. Blood trickled from his nose.

Jon didn't stop though, as he delivered a swift kick to Dave's knee. The knee buckled and Dave fell to his knees. Jonathan spun and kicked Dave across the face, sending him onto his back on the floor. Jon had the time he needed and once again took off running.

He heard a whistle.

He ducked.

The staff flew past him.

And bounced harmlessly off the far wall.

Jon finally got to his sword and bent down slowly, keeping his eyes on Middle's the whole time. As he picked up the sword, all Middle did was talk to him.

"Make it quick."

Jon was surprised by the comment, but when Dave came limping up from behind him, Jon did what he said. He spun and drove the blade off his sword through the throat and out the back of the neck of Dave.

The body went limp almost immediately. With a sigh, Jon slid the corpse off his weapon and turned. Now there was only Jon and Middle left.