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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Round 2: Morstends vs Fell Lennox: dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Snarkypoet
    ASL Info:    20/F/US of A
    Elite Ratio:    4.16 - 6/7/12
    Words: 2484
    Class/Type: Story/Passion
    Total Views: 650
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 13799



    Description:
       hissssssssssssss

    Bash it. Tear it apart. Pick the shredded pieces out of your teeth, but please leave a comment.

    If you don't know what this story is pertaining to, go to Tisuna's page to find out about the MM tourney.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsRound 2: Morstends vs Fell Lennox: dots
    -------------------------------------------


    “Fell Lennox....” Dr. Morstend was deeply engrossed in the data scrolling quickly up the screen. Guinness bottle in hand, Mike leaned drunkenly over his father’s shoulder.
    “Wash up with thish guy?” Michael slurred.
    Florence hovered over the table, spinning in lazy loops and circles. “He is a roofer. Bachelor. If it were not for the occurrences of the last round, I would not be overly concerned. His information showed nothing extraordinary. Aside from his recent exposure to nerve gas, that is. However he has acquired a seemingly powerful magical object. Almost certainly a fatal one.”
    Michael staggered upright and struck a wobbly heroic pose. “Lesh me a’ ‘im! ShI’ll knock ‘im on hish can!”
    Donavon removed his spectacles and gave his offspring a long hard stare. “You, sirrah, are sozzled. You’re going nowhere. Especially in that leopard print loincloth, it doesn't suit you. And Flore isn't up for it. She’s still flickering more than a candle in a gale. No way the rag doll is gonna take this one on. Let me handle this one.”
    “But, Pop...”
    “No ‘buts’. This one is mine. You can, however, assist me in preparing. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
    ***************************************
    Fell Lennox stalked the halls. Up and down, back and forth, he paced. He didn’t know much about his next opponent. Some sort of smarmy squirt of a doctor, his kid, and a woman. Probably his mistress. Rich doctor types have mistresses, don’t they? Anyway, they didn’t look that tough. The son was the only one that looked like he could last in a fist fight.
    “Greetings. I am Dr. Donavon J. Morstend. Although I am sure it is a pleasure to meet you, I would very much appreciate your surrender.”
    Fell whirled. Perched on the upper story balcony was Dr. Donavon J. Morstend. The doctor was kicking his heels and there was a pleasant, fatherly look on his face. Fell held the jewel horn defensively in front of himself. Never trust the fatherly ones.
    “That’s a pretty little pigsticker you’ve got there. Eons of lost technology all wrapped up into a jeweled... elephant tusk?”
    Lennox crouched low to floor, making himself a smaller target. This popinjay wasn’t going to get him talking, no way, no how.
    “I’m a man of science,” Dr. Morstend continued. “Magic is merely science waiting to be unraveled. If I could discover even a tenth of information that weapon of yours has to offer, I’d never have to work again. Although I suppose that’s beside the point. You have the most amusing tic in your left eyebrow, do you know that?" There was a long calculated pause. "You’re not going to withdraw, are you?”
    Fell remained silent.
    The doctor sighed and rose. He balanced on the bannister railing like a tightrope walker. It looked strangely right. Donavon drew a thin remote from his pocket. “I warn you, this will not be the easy win you seem to think it will be. My expertise lies within a rather... explosive field. However, it is not my battle skill that you should fear. You see, young sir, I have one advantage over you. I’m not afraid to die. I want death. I long for it. I do not seek death out, but I will not shrink for it. So by all means, come. Let us engage in battle. You will learn. You will learn. And now...” Donavon smiled a unsettling smile and entered a code into his remote. “May the game begin.”
    Dr. Morstend leapt gracefully backward as the world burst into flame. Covering his head and still clutching his weapon, Fell dropped and rolled away from the flaming debris. It took him several seconds to realize the truth. The doctor had blown up the balcony. That crazy fucking doctor was ready, able, and willing to blow up the whole fucking manor!
    ********************************
    Back in the room, Mike was staring slack-jawed at the monitor. This wasn’t his dad. This had to be some sort of shapeshifting suicide bomber who had decided to play at being a Morstend for a while. Nothing like explosions to halfway sober ya up. If Michael hadn’t planted a third of those explosives himself, he wouldn’t have ever believed it. Florence, on the other had, was watching the explosions with a small smile and a gleam in her eye.
    “Brilliant,” she whispered gleefully.
    “Brilliant?” Michael failed to keep a hysterical shriek out of his voice. “Brilliant? He’s going to bring the whole place down around our ears! He’s gone psychotic! He’s gonna blow that guy up! He’s gonna blow himself up! Brilliant? He’s gone mad! Mad!”
    While Tacita tried in vain to comfort the distraught young man, Florence waited patiently for his half-drunken tirade to end. “Many have said that there is a very thin line between brilliance and madness. Your father is merely utilizing both sides of that line. I assure you, it is mainly an act for his opponent.”
    Michael reached out and hugged Tacita to his chest without noticing he was doing so. “Maybe you’re right, but he doesn’t have to enjoy himself so damned much while he’s doing it.”
    “On the contrary, he does. It gives him energy. This match is a chance to test his own strategy skills. The doctor loves few things more than an intellectual challenge. There is story I have heard of, a long time ago. I believe it was called ‘The Most Dangerous Game. This reminds me much of that story. A theme is the fact that humans are the smartest and most dangerous of prey. They can think like men because they are men. Let us see how gentleman Lennox fairs against our hunter.”
    “But if Pop doesn’t cool it, he could kill that guy!”
    “So?” Florence shrugged carelessly, “that is part of the game.”
    Chills ran up and down Michael’s spine as he realized she was entirely serious. Clutching the small rag doll closer, Mike suppressed a shiver and turned back to the screen.
    Explosions blasted out the speakers as the true rumbles rattled the manor.
    **************************************
    Fell Lennox ran for his life. Smoldering shrapnel flew about his head. He wasn’t a distance fighter, damnit! He needed to get in close so he could stab the bastard and end this fight. He couldn’t do that if... He yelped and held his arms in front of face as the floorboards in front of him blew apart. A scrap of wood bit into his check. Fell painfully pulled the splinter from his cheek. It had gone clean through.
    “Ah, to be young and foolish again... No worries. It’s all go, go, go. You think you’re invincible and nothing terrible could ever happen to you. Then it does. That, my boy, is growing up. You’ve had a taste of it, but just a taste. You were lucky with that nerve gas. That time the accident happened to you.”
    Fell spun around. Nothing. The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. Fell would have crouched behind the antique Chinese vase, but it was probably full of explosives. (It was.) Instead he stood panting in the middle of the room. For a moment the only sounds to be heard were Fell’s rasping breath and the soft drip of his blood hitting the floor.
    “Oh dear,” the voice of Dr. Morstend chuckled. “Looks like you’ve hurt yourself. Still refusing to withdraw, I see. Whatever will your mother think? Or your father, not that you’d care about either of their opinions... You should treasure your family, boy. Don’t take them for granted. Some day you’ll wake up and they’ll be gone. No matter how long you’ve lived, that’s the one thing that gets you... Just the absence. You turn to say something to her and she’s not there. It’s been so long, yet I still do that...”
    What was that nutcase dithering about? Fell slightly relaxed his sting-tight muscles. It was probably best to let the doctor ramble on. Rambling meant a chance to catch his breath. Rambling meant a pause in the attacking.
    “At least she went out in a blaze of glory. Not a single bone left... Nothing but a fading memory. You’ll learn, boy.”
    *************************************
    Sitting in front of the monitor, a single tear rolled down Michael’s cheek. He touched the image of his pained father. Florence looked away from his anguish. Mike tried to say many things. How he understood, how it was going to be alright, how they were a team, how they were going to make it. In the end he could only mouth one lonely word. “Mom”
    **********************************
    Bang! The vase instantly turned to flying rubble. The chase was once again on. And on did it go. Minutes to hours, hours to... more hours... Surprisingly the manor was still standing. However, the price tag on the amount of damage that had been done was substantial. Debris was strewn about the hallways, and Fell was not in good shape. The melee fighter was limping heavily, gasping for breath. Chest aching, he stumbled at just the wrong moment. The wall panel beside him blow outward with a terrific force. Fell was knocked off his feet for the last time. Five times he desperately attempted to stand. Five times he failed. He was struggling for his footing a sixth time when Dr. Donavon J. Morstend strolled in and stopped a few feet in front of him.
    “Well, kid, your pretty roughed up. Got to hand it to ya, I didn’t think you’d last this long. You got stamina. Or you’re too stubborn to quit.”
    Lennox fell to the ground yet again, twitching with pain. The doctor paced around him in even shrinking circles. Just... a little... There! Donavon was within range! In a final burst on strength, Fell flung himself forward and plunged the jewel tusk into the doctor’s foot. They both stared in fascinated sort of horror, waiting...
    ***************************************
    Waiting..............
    ****************************************
    Still waiting.....
    ***************************************
    A small hiccuping giggle escaped Donavon’s lips. The giggle grew to a chortle, and quickly became an outright guffaw. The doctor slumped down onto the floor next to the half delirious young man. Fell stared dizzily at Dr. Morstend’s foot. It wasn’t even bleeding.
    “All... (heh) This... Time...” Donavon managed to gasp out between giggles. “All this time... We both thought...” He couldn’t finish the statement. He was now crying and holding his ribs, trying to quiet himself down to a titter. Wiping his eyes with his raggedy coat sleeve, Donavon tried again. “That oversized toothpick... That magical death weapon... All this time we thought just one scratch from that thing would mean the end! Now it’s here sticking in my foot and I’ve never felt better!”
    Fell’s eyes were starting to cross. Seeing double of the doctor made him no easier to understand.
    “Here!” Donavon cried. He yanked the glowing green horn out of his foot. Before Fell even had the chance to move, the doctor had plunged the tusk into Fell’s thigh.
    Lennox braced himself. This was going to be the end, and what a terrible end! All he could think of was the painful freezing death with no escape.
    Eyes closed, Fell waited. And waited... And waited... Slowly, he cracked one eyelid open. He was still alive. The jewel tusk was still in his leg. What? Both his eyes popped open as he finally realized. His wounds were being healed! As he watched, every scrap and nick and burn was fading away. Even his lungs, which had still been aching, felt better.
    “Horn of healing!” Donavon howled with laughter. “You could cut my throat with a damn thing and I’d be better than before! Yin and yang, boy, yin and yang. You’ve either got the best or worst luck in the world! I haven’t decided which yet.”
    Fell’s gaze remained transfixed on his own thigh. Suddenly and against his will, a giggle escaped his lips. Soon the two men were clapping each other on the back, their cackling ringing off the walls.
    Once they had both laughed themselves out, Fell removed the horn from his leg and casually tossed it aside. “Well? Now what?” Fells turned toward Dr. Morstend. “I certainly don’t want to go through all that again.”
    “Then,” Donavon proclaimed, “we shall start afresh.” He extended his hand. “Greetings. I am Dr. Donavon J. Morstend. Although I am sure it is a pleasure to meet you, I would very much appreciate your surrender.”
    Fell took the offered hand and shook it heartily. “My name is Fell Lennox. And you, sir, have yourself a deal.”
    ******************************
    It was a weary but smirking doctor that returned later to the home base. A battle had been won, discoveries had been made, and he had gotten to blow things up. Undoubtedly a great day so far. He waved cheerfully as he saw Florence waiting at the door to the room.
    “Enjoyed yourself, sir?”
    “Immensely, Flore, my dear! You should have been there.”
    Florence smiled and shook her head. “I think not.” She drifted in through the open doorway. Donavon started to follow but stopped when he saw the seemingly motionless form of his son sprawled out on the floor. Dr. Morstend practically dove for Mike.
    “Michael? Michael? Flore? What happened? What’s wrong with him?”
    “Oh,” Florence sighed in a bored tone, contrasted by the wicked gleam in her eye. “He fainted dead away just about the time Fell got you in the foot. I saw no point in waking him.”
    “Florence..” Donavon started to say in a warning tone. It did him no good, however. They both knew his eyes were smiling.




    Submitted on 2009-08-26 22:12:02     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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