titan's might / all out regicide

sometimes, it's always best to deal with aggravating situations using words.

words like.."maim, maul, pummel, plug, strike, smash, clout, and kill".

i recall one occasion where i practically had to go out of my way to help an anonymous kid.

not that i care for the runt. i don't even know who the hell he is, fer chrissakes.

okay, so i'm at a local net cafe watchin' my friends play. i didn't join them 'coz i never enjoyed those games. too little brain activity, y'know. not worth my interest.

so anyways, there's this group of miscreants who suddenly came in an started harassing one of the customers. the victim was a kid. they kept bonkin' his head an bitchslapping him. i overheard one of the punks threatening the kid's life.

turns out, the poor kid was fond of trash talking (or trash-chatting) while playing using the in-game chat channel. he must've unknowingly offended a cocky gang member by fragging him and broadcasting an arrogant frag message. kids nowadays.

also found out that the small fry was a skilled player, one of the reasons why the group was pissed off.

'coz he fragged their punk asses and made them lose cash on one of the tourney bets.

i've always despised street thugs and teenage punks due to their worthlessness, sick trips, disregard for others, and lack of respect. and seeing the group's butt-ugly faces and thug-esque expressions only fueled my already burning rage.

besides, they were all grown up already, some of them taller than me. and they're beating down on the frightened little kid. what an acid trip. there were nine of them. jesus. ganging up on somebody half their size.

annoyed, i stood and sized them up. the juveniles turned their attention to me.

leader says, "you got a problem?".

"hell yeah. take your shi* outside the shop, son. this is no place for people like you.", says me.

"i don't believe this. i'm gonna kill you.", leader says, motioning his menagerie outside.

"what the fu** are you doing, man? do you realize there's nine of them? they're gonna fu**ing maim you!", my bud says, grabbing my arm.

"i got this, bro. don't worry. i need it." says me, grinning.

"what?!", he says, as he let go of my arm and watch me walk towards the door.

keeping my cool, i followed them outside, cracking my neck and knuckles. "this is gonna be fun".

i've been educated in different martial arts concepts and at that time, i was being trained for boxing, and i've been known to take in physical punishment just for fun. in english, it just means absimilliard can kill.

the moment i stepped outta the internet shop, one of them lunged at me with a metal pipe. i grabbed his arm and rammed his face against one corner of the doorway. his nose bled like water.

next one grabbed a rock and attacked me with it. i extended my arm, impeding all means of him hitting me with the rock. he wouldn't let go of the rock. i let his nuts feel how i used to be a soccer player. he howled like a baby and knelt before me like i was king.

third, fourth, and fifth dude ran towards me an started throwing punches, they hit my head (they couldn't hit my face 'coz i had my chin down), my shoulders, my body. in the midst of the heat, i grabbed one guy's throat with my right hand and ripped the skin off it. he grabbed his throat, gasping for air. the other one, i introduced my left fist. broken jaw. the last guy, i gave him the right hand, dislocating his right shoulder and sent him sprawling to the ground.

the leader and the rest of the pack charged soon as they realized their coterie is being wasted one by one. they threw punches, one of them hit me with a beatstick, the leader slugged me with his brass knuckles, but i caught a glimpse of one dude, about to stick a seven-inch icepick at me. i grabbed the arm soon as it got nearer and pulled the guy. i turned round without letting go of the arm and twisted the elbow, breaking it off from the joint and looking like shi*. he made me do it. it's not my fault.

hurt, tired, and bleeding, i felt adrenaline rush through my blood, sending me into a frenzied state. i threw my right hand with all my strength, breaking two of the other guy's left rib and winding him. the baton-brother broke the beatstick as he bashed my left arm. i broke two of his front teeth and lacerated his entire upper lip when i struck him with my elbow.

the last guy i plugged left and right. eyes red with blood and hate, and hitting with berserk force, i never realized he was already out cold until one of my friends pulled me out of the fray.

"bro, that's enough. you've caused enough injury already."

i looked at the last guy and saw that his eyes are overturned, the entire face is covered with bluish-black bruises, nosebridge dislocated, lips lacerated, jawbone misaligned, and his face fulla blood.

cops came and took me in. turns out, they're gonna be out of the streets for weeks, and some of them, months. they were sent to the nearest public hospital and nobody had the guts to file a case against me. i did the right thing. i'm damn sure about that.

after a series of long interrogations with the cops, i was extracted by my friends from the police station.

so, i was asked, after the incident. "are you like, a hero or somethin' dude? 'coz man, you oughtta win a medal fer real, y'know. you got a heart a' gold, bra."

i answered, "no, man. i'm just disgusted with them punks. i felt i needed to teach them a lesson. what happened to the kid, by the way?"

"he done scram bro, the moment you went outside to negotiate with the thugs."

"he never even thanked me." i said, with a sad face.

no. i ain't no hero. i ain't no knight in shinin' armor.

i'm just sick of these jailbaits. their life, is an insult to my being.

i guess they've learned their lesson well. that's the last time i really caused a lotta physical pain. well, not that i've totally restrained myself.

one of my many brutal encounters.

i was misguided back then, i guess. i used to have an untamed spirit.