Chapter 12: FREESTYLE 4

  “Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.” —Arthur Ashe

  August 28th, 1990, 12:05 PM.

  Smoke filled the air.

  Link II heard the song fade with the smoke, seeing the ghosts besides him fade too.

  He got up, walking back towards his home, not caring about the ashes in the air.

  His gaze on the concrete he walked on.

  The air was thick with loss and anger.

  Arriving back in his home, he felt numb to whatever he was supposed to be feeling.

  Moving towards the backyard.

  Steps cracking against wet grass like a dying heartbeat.

  Crunch.

  Tap.

  Crunch.

  Eventually seeing three unnamed gravestones hidden in the back of the house.

  Remembering that night.

  Remembering gutting those gangsters like pork.

  Their intestines flying with his thrusting hands over and over again in his memory.

  Seeing a man's intestines so closely for the first time.

  Shaking his head, turning away from those gravestones that haunted his mind.

  Walking back into the house.

  Rushing towards the bathroom.

  Urgently grabbing a towel and warm water from the sink.

  Rubbing his face and arms in a wet towel to remove the smell of blood.

  The towel digging into his skin.

  His eyes spilling with tears.

  Stopping for a moment and asking himself.

  “Why? W-Why can't this come off??”

  Eventually looking back up in the mirror to find…

  Duckworth.

  Staring at him with a smirking face.

  But also an intestine on his back.

  A heart, still pumping.

  Beat.

  Beat.

  …

  Beat, till it stopped.

  Bleeding in his hand.

  Link II looked back at Duckworth in horror, falling back into the corner, near the toilet.

  Asking hesitantly.

  “W-Why have you come back?? Did you come here to kill me? I-Is today you finish taking over my mind like a parasite??”

  While Duckworth stood.

  Saying nothing but his stoic expression.

  Slowly smirking.

  Abruptly laughing at him in the air.

  His laughter echoed in the shallow bathroom.

  Saying in breaths.

  “Oh kid… how fucking pathetic you really are.”

  Getting closer to him and speaking.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “You think I'd ever want to be you?

  Fuck no, kid. I'd rather die than be you. You're just a magnet for self pity and police to kill your ugly ass.”

  Link II got up with anger, yelling.

  “I AM NOT UGLY-”

  Before getting pinned to the wall by Duckworth.

  “SHUT THE FUCK UP, DUMBASS!

  THAT'S NOT EVEN MY POINT!

  MY POINT IS, YOUR UGLY ASS CAPTURES EVERY SOUL YOU SEE ONLY TO GET OVER THE FACT YOU COULD SAVE THEM!”

  While Link II fought back, punching him in the face.

  Duckworth groaned backwards, wincing with his teeth clenched.

  As Link II spoke.

  “You think I don't know that, DUCKWORTH?!

  I know I could save each and every one of those selfish bastards from their fates, but I don't.

  Because look at them! They're like zombies, they exist only to mate, die, and sin.

  Again and again-”

  While Duckworth slapped Link II back with his own backhand of a sonic boom.

  Echoing and ringing harshly in his ear, as Duckworth spoke.

  “But what about those kids, child?

  What about those children that died from lack of protection or not being able to do shit?!

  You know you could've helped them, but you chose to wallow in your own self pity.

  Now tell me, why would you be such a hypocrite-”

  Before suddenly interrupted by Link II again.

  “Because I don't want to! Okay?!”

  Both taking heavy breaths while their bruises showed under the light.

  The air thick with grief.

  Link II hesitantly continued.

  “I… I don't want to. Because look at them. They know how to do shit because of the abuse. They knew that when I killed their parents…

  They never responded with anger.

  …they actually were… happy.

  Happy they got to see their pathetic parasites of parents crumble to the floor by my hand.”

  While Duckworth flamed in anger.

  “Liar! You're only saying it to defend your actions of killing abusive parents without second changes-”

  Link II repeated himself, stopping Duckworth.

  “I know that! You think I don't carry guilt from it? God, all you ghost parasite personality fuckers are all the same!

  You blame me for shit, expecting me to fix shit within seconds like it's a fucking video game!

  Jesus Christ, can't you all just be cooperative like Willard?!”

  Just as Link II was about to leave, a soul spoke.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  They said, the one filled with anger and hatred torn from his form.

  He turned around urgently, confused at who spoke, Duckworth or someone else.

  Finally seeing the mirror of the damned in the mirror of the bathroom and…

  A single soul.

  Standing out like a mosquito in the daytime.

  It spoke again, “Yeah, you? Go fuck yourself.

  You deserve the worst of any torture.

  You are such a fucking mistake, I swear to god.

  You were abandoned by your own goddess mother because she never cared about her offspring like yourself; she wanted a quick fuck for satisfaction.

  And this is the result of the dumbass who got her pregnant.”

  Link II felt guilt, becoming even more confused on who this soul was talking about.

  “Could this really be true? Am I a mistake due to my skin and culture? Am I even worth anything I've been through?”

  As the soul kept rambling on and on about how much Link II was a terrible kid.

  He kept breathing slower and slower as both Duckworth's voice joined in on the degradation and soul's rambling.

  He snapped.

  Grabbing the soul with anger, asking.

  “...why the fuck do you even care? You're a dead soul. You have nothing left to care for.

  Why do I matter to you? I'm just a kid that didn't want you here that shouldn't get you this mad about my own breath.

  The soul, now humbled at Link II's response.

  Never expecting someone like him to be so calm during an argument.

  Both kept staring in anger, the soul finally giving in.

  “Look….kid, I can see you did and saw some fucked up stuff.

  Seeing a dead body when young can make us feel alienated from the lifestyle of the streets.

  From the pimps to the women, nothing changes besides some drug distribution here and there.

  But I digress, I bet you wonder why a ghost like me knows about your family and life, don't you?”

  Link II nodded, but still confused about this ghost he barely knew that had knowledge of his own life before birth.

  Asking to himself.

  “What is this factless ghost gonna tell me now? Like he gets to tell me how my abilities work or something?”

  The soul spoke again, hesitant and still angry: “Kid, you have such a unique culture and mixing of DNA, you bypass every single gate that was built for you.

  Here's how I can explain it to you, better than Willard ever could.”

  Link II felt on edge, hating that someone was trying to debunk Willard's statement about himself and his abilities.

  Not liking someone's idea being better than another.

  As the ghost began.

  “Your DNA is a chaotic mix—a freak accident.

  It’s like a cherry bomb; the barriers meant to keep you from becoming a homicidal maniac don’t mean a thing to you.

  You were born with restraints, but because of your DNA, a rare mutation perhaps…

  You possess every ability in the book too early.

  Teleportation.

  Flight.

  You name it.

  But you’re a glass cannon, a fragile being, you don’t know how to access these powers, which is why there’s one weakness that could destroy you.

  Your emotions trigger these abilities to occur too early and would cause the destruction of an innocent city.

  Because right now? You are too young to have these abilities and a lack of control from them.”

  As Link II absorbed the soul's words, surprised that someone actually explained his abilities rather than the void and its figure state.

  Then the soul spoke arrogantly.

  “You know you spilled your first blood at just a few months old because you saw Samuel in a Mexican standoff, right?”

  The soul stopped, interrupted by Duckworth's arrogance.

  “And wasn’t there some music playing? Maybe ‘Meet the Grahams’?”

  Both laughing in the silence of his expression like eager rats to cheese.

  Link II's eyes filled with hatred.

  Hating how they took an incident like a joke.

  Pushing him over the edge.

  Turning towards Duckworth and snapping his neck with a movement of his own neck.

  Sounding like a loud snap, but for Link II, it was stretching pains on his neck.

  Looking back to the soul, and his horrified expression.

  Both their hands trembled in the silence.

  As the soul spoke.

  “P-Please kid! I-I gave you knowledge-”

  Before being cut off by the sounds of repeated neck snapping from Link II.

  His eyes glowing black with anger.

  Breathing heavy.

  Eyes dilated.

  Slowly fading into realization.

  He had killed himself and his own guide.

  And he had done so without hesitation.

  Not knowing what to do, he ran outside.

  Doing the same thing like a year prior.