Promo: Painful memories

[Guest Beingz0wningj00]

“The time is coming.”

 

Drazon utters clearly to himself. He relaxes back into his sofa as he examines the world around him. Stuck alone in what looks to be an office, two shelves filled with books by the doors. A few collector’s items hanging off the walls. Drazon looks into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He flips open the pack, revealing it to be packed tight with rolled dubies, Drazon pulls one out, sparking it up, he inhales.

 

“Ahhh… that’s the shit.”

 

It’s been a while since he’s had a treat like this. Drazon takes a moment to calm himself as he lets the smoke float around inside, before exhaling out a thick cloud. He rolls his sleeve up, taking a look at his arm where it joints together. He smiles as he can barely even tell that any marks were there. The tests are almost done. An addiction he couldn’t prevent has been successfully fought off and his body thanks him gratefully for it. Taking a second to ball up his right fist, Drazon studies it as he relaxes on the couch. The images come flooding back as the cartilage pops itself into place.

 

Four men carrying him into the room, each is holding a limb. Drazon tries to scream out as he looks at the drops of morphine spill off the needle. Poked directly into his elbow joint, Drazon’s pupils explode before they roll into the back of his head, leaving the dull, blank whiteness for the men to witness and do their work.

 

Drazon closes his eyes at the memory. He had agreed to the experiments after reassurance by the Suicide King that he’d be booked without limits. His no nonsense, no consequence style was promised. The hardcore god with unlimited boundaries. The temptation was too much. Drazon chuckles to himself, thinking back on the lesson he learned. The lesson that took him nearly half a year to learn.

 

In the office with the Suicide King, they go over the details of the procedure.

 

King: “Ok. So that we are clear. You will go through these tests, no drugs. The procedure is designed as an enhancement for your abilities. In your co-operation as a test subject, for your services, you will be granted the clause in your contract of No Nonsense No Consequence. Meaning, in your fights, anything goes. Now this is the type of stuff that can get us into a lot of trouble. This has to be kept confidential, it’s both our asses if we are found out. You got it?”

 

Drazon: “This means I can rearrange Flesher’s smile with a sledgehammer?”

 

King: “Not the route I’d personally go, but yes.”

 

Drazon extends his hand out, and the Suicide King shakes it.

 

King: “Now don’t forget about Mark. I can’t let him be a problem. If he gets too close, you have to take him down.”

 

Drazon looks deep into the eyes of the Suicide King, that last comment, oozing with cowardice, on the inside pisses Drazon off to extreme measures. However through his face, he keeps it cold and confident as he flashes the Suicide King a brief smile.

 

King: “All part of the plan, Heh. Heh.”

 

“But things didn’t go as planned” Drazon chuckles as he says that out loud for no one to hear. “Mark became the boss and I became fucked.”

 

“Sir, this patient hasn’t been responding to the doses of Morphine we’ve been feeding him. His body has developed an unusual tolerance.”

 

A man in his white labcoat speaks to the Suicide King.

 

King: “How soon can he come back to the ring.”

 

Doctor: “I’m not sure. During his periods in the sub-conscious, whenever we tried to trigger some of his memories… the emotional stress factor would suddenly go through the roof.”

 

King: “Meaning?”

 

Doctor: “You chose one fucked up test subject.”

 

King takes a look through a two way mirror, seeing the body of Jamie Drazon lying motionless on a test table. Three figures in medical uniforms surround his body. Drazon lies still on the table, resting only in his boxers. Many surgical cords and needles surrounding him.

 

King: “So how do we get him back on the track?”

 

Doctor: “Well with your permission. I would like to try something new on him. The effects of this take a little longer to recover from, however he will come back with a higher level of performance. He’ll also have less of an urge to, in his terms “Brutally batter the puny fucking midgets with a chainsaw.”

 

King: “Right. The side effects?”

 

Doctor: “He will be borderline paralyzed for this first month. He will need at least another month of physical therapy. However his memory and instincts will trigger back quickly, and he will be in stronger form. His body considerably repaired. Might a suggest a liver transplant?”

 

King: “No.”

 

King casually observes Drazon being tested on drugs and chemicals injected into his body. King crosses his hands behind his back as he continues to watch. In the lab, one of the doctor’s reaches down, gently touching his surgical glove over the forehead of JD. As if feeling the synthetic plastic touching him from miles into dreamland, Drazon’s right arm explodes to life, striking his palm viciously into the bridge of the Doctor’s nose and the pressure points in between the eyes. The other two men watch their partner drop into the unconscious world faster then any drugs they’ve seen and immediately respond in retaliation.

 

King: “Take him down!”

 

Drazon, not hearing the screams from the Suicide King due to the mirror having a soundproof quality. He glances to his left, seeing his reflection and the backside of a charging surgeon in the mirror. Drazon shifts his hips to face the oncoming surgeon. Noticing the change in the Drazon’s movement, the Doc makes a daring dive anyway in attempts to restrain the hardcore maniac. Drazon throws his right leg out, firmly smacking it into the face of the charging Doc. Shooken up and a full 360 later, the Doctor turns to face the mirror, and lets his eyes roll away in complete dizzyness. On the otherside of the mirror, King hammers the window with his fist before turning to the Doctor speaking to him.

 

King: “He needs to be taken down before shit turns up! Now take him down by whatever means!”

 

Nodding in reply. The Doctor reaches into an inside pocket of his coat, pulling out a syringe. He reaches into his coat pocket, reaching for the drugs that he recommended to the King. He turns to the door after loading the syringe, letting a tiny bit of fluid spurt out.

 

King: “He better be able to compete when this is done!”

 

The Doctor nods his head as he steps out the door. Inside the room, the third Doctor manages to sneak behind Drazon, yanking him back off the table with a full nelson and dragging him to the wall. The door opens, two considerably muscular men come in to help the third doctor restrain Drazon, each grabbing an arm. The name tag of the man on the left says “Eddie” and the one on the right says “Nate.” Following the two big guys, comes the Doctor who was with the Suicide King, the needle in his hand.

 

Doc(SK): “Hold him down!”

 

Drazon doesn’t respond verbally, instead, he reiterates by shoving his foot into the solar plexus of the doctor, kicking him back many feet, and letting the needle fly to the corner. Drazon keeps his foot swinging upward, bending his upperbody to the left and catching the Doctor behind him with a kick to the face. Breaking his arms free, Drazon strikes both Eddie and Nate in the throat with chops. He reaches back to the dummied doctor, locks him in a ¾ nelson facelock…

 

“Awe shit! Tell me I didn’t use a stunner!” Drazon brings himself back to reality if only to criticize his previous stupidity.”

 

The Doctor’s jaw cracks over the shoulder of Drazon. However the time it took for Drazon to get back up, was all the time it took for Eddie and Nate to grab hold of his arms and hurl onto the table, then pinning him to it by holding down both shoulders. Drazon growls as he is barely held in restraint, and in through the door walks the Suicide King.

 

King: “God Dammit! I said take him down! Why is he still struggling!?”

 

King looks down and spots the syringe in the corner and the Doctor who was carrying it slowly return to his feet. Shaking his head, the King grabs the syringe as the Doctor he was giving the orders to, dives on top of Drazon’s legs and bearhugs them down to the table. King looks down at the fallen Drazon, his eyes returning just enough to glare into the Suicide King’s.

 

King: “You’ll thank me for this.”

 

Drazon: ”Will I?”

 

King pushes the syringe down into Jamie Drazon…

 

Fucking rough times. Drazon shakes his head as he thinks back over the last couple of months.

 

“You didn’t think about it, did you King. With me out for a month, how the hell was I supposed to hurt Mark? God Dammit. It worked out shitty for the both of us. But he won’t take any blame. I know his kind.”

 

Drazon puffs on his dubie. He takes one final haul before roaching it out on a conveniently placed ashtray.

 

“The retraining was tough. Learning to kick again, is just like learning to walk.” Drazon slowly thinks about his therapy sessions. Dammit that was hell. Suddenly the door opens, into the room walks Mark Stevens, a file and a few sheets of paper in his hand. He takes a second to fan away some of the smoke through his nose before taking a seat at his desk and chair. He reviews some of the readings before looking in the direction of JD and acknowledging his presence. Drazon looks over as if it was the first time, and reads the nameplate “Commissioner Stevens.” He likes the sound of that.

 

Stevens: “Alright Mr. Drazon. Let’s discuss business.”

 

Drazon: “Yes… Let’s.”

[Guest Suicide King]

I authorized what?

[Guest Beingz0wningj00]

You authorized one chaotic disaster...

[crusen86 0]

omgz jd is the cool