Finding Out The Hard Way (Leon Chant #1)
Apr 15, 2020 13:03:49 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Rage (aka NoMercyMaster2001), and 2 more like this
Post by Robbie A on Apr 15, 2020 13:03:49 GMT -5
2011 – The Call
“Pardon my tone Alex, but what do you mean, the boss is gone?”
“He’s laying low, doesn’t want to be around anybody right now Leon, last thing I knew was that he’s heading to Argentina, and I shouldn’t even be telling you that.”
“So what does that mean for me? What am I meant to be doing?”
“He’s got one more job lined up for you, and then you’re welcome to do what you want. You’re obviously still on retainer, so don’t go too far, just in case he suddenly comes back. You know what he’s like, changes his mind like the weather.”
“Don’t worry about that, I’ve got no immediate plans. What are you thinking, a couple weeks?”
“…”
“Alex?”
“I don’t know, something’s different this time, he’s got to get this out of his system but I’ve got no idea how long that’ll take. Like I said, don’t stray too far just in case.”
“Understood. So what’s the job?”
“Surveillance, low risk, but probably high stress.”
“Uh, what do you mean by that?”
“You’re watching Sharon and Sam, and you’ll be helping them move out of the house to some temp-“
“Wait a fucking minute, Alex. Are you telling me he’s gone without them?”
“I am Leon, yes. This is proper deep end shit we’re dealing with here.”
“…”
“…”
“Hang on a second, did you say I have to help the moving process too?”
“I did.”
“And when is she expecting me?”
“She isn’t.”
“…So you’re telling me I have to go in there, unannounced-“
“I can call ahead and let her know if you prefer?”
“I really don’t think that’s going to make the situation any better, do you? At this point I’d rather you told me I have to make somebody disappear.”
“Let the record show that I gave you the option. Anyway, I need to make more calls, the list of instructions he’s left me is…intense. Call me when you job is done, then await anything further.”
“You got it.”
*Click*
“…Fucking hell boss, I’ve had some god awful jobs from you in the past, but this has gotta be up there.”
2018 – Australia
So I awaited any further instructions. I waited weeks, and they became months. After six months, I knew it was serious, and I decided to lay low myself. So I went to Australia.
Yeah, okay maybe I strayed a bit too far, but it had been months…and those became seven years…Seven really good years with no dirty jobs. I know there’d been sightings of him, Peru, Tampa, Leeds, and more recently New Orleans. I stopped listening out for him a few years back. I’d had time to stop, time to reflect on the time spent with him, and when I look back at it, he never treated me very well. Sure, I owed my life, my freedom to him, but that didn’t always justify how he sent me on all the dirty jobs he didn’t want his hands getting messy with.
That last one especially. Watching his wife break apart piece by piece because he wanted a completely fresh start to life under his terms. Wow. I was better off without. I knew that now. Still, I kept the phone close by, because you never knew.
Ironically, I decided I wanted to copy Rob. I moved all the way out here because I needed a fresh start, nothing quite as extreme as him, but England never treated me well, a lot of scars, a lot of hurt and I wanted to be as far away from there as possible. I suspect there are still some old enemies there too, and my protection wasn’t guaranteed any more. So I moved to the Gold Coast, not for the surf, but I was making money from running a small gym here, keeping it simple, keeping it quiet.
And then he called. After seven fucking years of a normal life…he fucking called.
“Hello?”
“Ah Leon! Are you well?”
“Surprised to hear from you, boss, but I’m doing just fine.”
“Excellent…Listen, where are you right now?”
“Australia.”
“...Why the hell would you go down there? Seriously, that place is horrendous, AJ Pheonix comes from there, remember how much of a douchebag he was? Couldn’t even spell phoenix correctly! Anyway, put the white wine and overly venomous spiders down because I have a job for you!”
And just like that, he sucks me back in, no time to tell me anything else, no catching up, no apologising for just disappearing…though I can’t be shocked at that given he barely told his wife. All these emotions flooding back into me, it's no surprise in hindsight that I never called him 'boss' again after that.
Almost immediately I find myself back in old habits, it’s like a form of PTSD, the PTSD of Rob Arnold, I’m searching for positives out of this negative situation. I like jazz, right? Yeah jazz is good, and hey I’m not going to miss out on seafood…Jesus wept I’m scraping the bottom of barrel fast.
Go to New Orleans he says, go look after a small bar for him he says, you’ll have to fight he says. Of course I’ll have to fight, to him I know barely anything else. I’m just a tool to him, a hired gun. But I am so more than that, I’ve always been more than that. I’m Leon Fucking Chant…no, no I sound like him when I say that…forget that.
I’m Leon Chant, and I am more than just a hired gun.
Welcome to the XHF Network
Your Video is Loading...
“Do you know who I am?”
Scene opens to darkness, which is broken by a click, turning on a singular lightbulb. This barely illuminates its surroundings, but it is clear enough to be recognised as a basement. It’s also enough to show the man who turned it on, Leon Chant.
“I know I’m no household name, not to a number of people. I’m Rob Arnold’s hired muscle, I’m that guy from MCCW. I’m…that guy…but you just can’t remember his name…right? It’s okay, many people thought the same when I first came to MCCW, that I was just another nameless face that had something to do with ol’ limb snapper. Then people stopped thinking that when I started leaving bodies in the ring. I think I got the point across when I knocked Kazuko Shirai the hell out.”
He grins.
“That was a particularly fun day. Still, time moves forward, and so do I. I’ve tasted gold in MCCW, I’ve started exactly how I planned in the Gold Rush, only spoilt by a questionable referee who can’t seemingly can’t decide on how fast to count. And to top it off? The XHF Rumble is around the corner.”
He chuckles to himself briefly.
“So for those that don’t know. that’s who I am, I’m the guy that you don’t want to meet down a dark alley. Some people have, and they certainly wish they hadn’t. I’m the guy that you get to do your dirty work because you can’t possibly consider doing it yourself because you’d not even be able to get out of bed in the morning, let alone look in a mirror. I’m that guy, and you’re about to find out the hard way.
Now I’ll be honest, it wasn’t my idea to get into the Rumble, oh no, that was my buddy Rob, he signed me up. I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I’m on board with it even now, but I’ll tell you what I do know: I’m coming in hot, and I’m coming in to put some stupid bitches on their asses. I don’t know if I’ll win, I doubt I will if I’m completely honest, because I’ve watched how the match goes down, too many bodies, too much chance to be blindsided.
Honestly? It’s just as much about luck than skill, this event. That’s right, Arnold, Dillinger, they both got lucky if you ask me, Rob swears blind that he knew what he was doing but I’ve known him long enough to know when he’s bluffing. If Dillinger tries to tell you otherwise as well, we he’s flat out lying. It’s all too easy to have a stray fist put you off, or for bodies to bounce you around like you’re on the dodgems.
…I guess I’m just hoping it’s my fist that knocks you off.”
Chant smiles menacingly.
“Believe me XHF Network, I’m under no illusions about the Rumble, I can’t stand here and tell you that I’ll be winning, but it won’t stop me playing to win. It won’t stop me putting my fist through your face, it won’t stop be dropping your body like it was a piece of trash. Because that’s who Leon Chant is, I don’t care who you are, I don’t care where you’re from, I especially don’t care about your little web shows, your PSA’s, your dick waving contests that so many of you seem intent on doing. None of that matters.
What matters to me is if you’re in front of me, I will victimise you, I will hurt you, and you will know that you’ve been in a ring with me. You’ll know for sure who Leon Chant is.”
Chant feigns to turn away, but stops, and grins once more.
“And hey, since I’m playing to win, maybe I’ll get lucky too, after all the shit I’ve put up with, I’m due a bit of luck. And then not only will my name be etched in your memories, but you’ll be left with hearing just three words…
…Oh. Hell. Yes.”
He turns the light back off, and we fade to black.
“Pardon my tone Alex, but what do you mean, the boss is gone?”
“He’s laying low, doesn’t want to be around anybody right now Leon, last thing I knew was that he’s heading to Argentina, and I shouldn’t even be telling you that.”
“So what does that mean for me? What am I meant to be doing?”
“He’s got one more job lined up for you, and then you’re welcome to do what you want. You’re obviously still on retainer, so don’t go too far, just in case he suddenly comes back. You know what he’s like, changes his mind like the weather.”
“Don’t worry about that, I’ve got no immediate plans. What are you thinking, a couple weeks?”
“…”
“Alex?”
“I don’t know, something’s different this time, he’s got to get this out of his system but I’ve got no idea how long that’ll take. Like I said, don’t stray too far just in case.”
“Understood. So what’s the job?”
“Surveillance, low risk, but probably high stress.”
“Uh, what do you mean by that?”
“You’re watching Sharon and Sam, and you’ll be helping them move out of the house to some temp-“
“Wait a fucking minute, Alex. Are you telling me he’s gone without them?”
“I am Leon, yes. This is proper deep end shit we’re dealing with here.”
“…”
“…”
“Hang on a second, did you say I have to help the moving process too?”
“I did.”
“And when is she expecting me?”
“She isn’t.”
“…So you’re telling me I have to go in there, unannounced-“
“I can call ahead and let her know if you prefer?”
“I really don’t think that’s going to make the situation any better, do you? At this point I’d rather you told me I have to make somebody disappear.”
“Let the record show that I gave you the option. Anyway, I need to make more calls, the list of instructions he’s left me is…intense. Call me when you job is done, then await anything further.”
“You got it.”
*Click*
“…Fucking hell boss, I’ve had some god awful jobs from you in the past, but this has gotta be up there.”
2018 – Australia
So I awaited any further instructions. I waited weeks, and they became months. After six months, I knew it was serious, and I decided to lay low myself. So I went to Australia.
Yeah, okay maybe I strayed a bit too far, but it had been months…and those became seven years…Seven really good years with no dirty jobs. I know there’d been sightings of him, Peru, Tampa, Leeds, and more recently New Orleans. I stopped listening out for him a few years back. I’d had time to stop, time to reflect on the time spent with him, and when I look back at it, he never treated me very well. Sure, I owed my life, my freedom to him, but that didn’t always justify how he sent me on all the dirty jobs he didn’t want his hands getting messy with.
That last one especially. Watching his wife break apart piece by piece because he wanted a completely fresh start to life under his terms. Wow. I was better off without. I knew that now. Still, I kept the phone close by, because you never knew.
Ironically, I decided I wanted to copy Rob. I moved all the way out here because I needed a fresh start, nothing quite as extreme as him, but England never treated me well, a lot of scars, a lot of hurt and I wanted to be as far away from there as possible. I suspect there are still some old enemies there too, and my protection wasn’t guaranteed any more. So I moved to the Gold Coast, not for the surf, but I was making money from running a small gym here, keeping it simple, keeping it quiet.
And then he called. After seven fucking years of a normal life…he fucking called.
“Hello?”
“Ah Leon! Are you well?”
“Surprised to hear from you, boss, but I’m doing just fine.”
“Excellent…Listen, where are you right now?”
“Australia.”
“...Why the hell would you go down there? Seriously, that place is horrendous, AJ Pheonix comes from there, remember how much of a douchebag he was? Couldn’t even spell phoenix correctly! Anyway, put the white wine and overly venomous spiders down because I have a job for you!”
And just like that, he sucks me back in, no time to tell me anything else, no catching up, no apologising for just disappearing…though I can’t be shocked at that given he barely told his wife. All these emotions flooding back into me, it's no surprise in hindsight that I never called him 'boss' again after that.
Almost immediately I find myself back in old habits, it’s like a form of PTSD, the PTSD of Rob Arnold, I’m searching for positives out of this negative situation. I like jazz, right? Yeah jazz is good, and hey I’m not going to miss out on seafood…Jesus wept I’m scraping the bottom of barrel fast.
Go to New Orleans he says, go look after a small bar for him he says, you’ll have to fight he says. Of course I’ll have to fight, to him I know barely anything else. I’m just a tool to him, a hired gun. But I am so more than that, I’ve always been more than that. I’m Leon Fucking Chant…no, no I sound like him when I say that…forget that.
I’m Leon Chant, and I am more than just a hired gun.
Welcome to the XHF Network
Your Video is Loading...
“Do you know who I am?”
Scene opens to darkness, which is broken by a click, turning on a singular lightbulb. This barely illuminates its surroundings, but it is clear enough to be recognised as a basement. It’s also enough to show the man who turned it on, Leon Chant.
“I know I’m no household name, not to a number of people. I’m Rob Arnold’s hired muscle, I’m that guy from MCCW. I’m…that guy…but you just can’t remember his name…right? It’s okay, many people thought the same when I first came to MCCW, that I was just another nameless face that had something to do with ol’ limb snapper. Then people stopped thinking that when I started leaving bodies in the ring. I think I got the point across when I knocked Kazuko Shirai the hell out.”
He grins.
“That was a particularly fun day. Still, time moves forward, and so do I. I’ve tasted gold in MCCW, I’ve started exactly how I planned in the Gold Rush, only spoilt by a questionable referee who can’t seemingly can’t decide on how fast to count. And to top it off? The XHF Rumble is around the corner.”
He chuckles to himself briefly.
“So for those that don’t know. that’s who I am, I’m the guy that you don’t want to meet down a dark alley. Some people have, and they certainly wish they hadn’t. I’m the guy that you get to do your dirty work because you can’t possibly consider doing it yourself because you’d not even be able to get out of bed in the morning, let alone look in a mirror. I’m that guy, and you’re about to find out the hard way.
Now I’ll be honest, it wasn’t my idea to get into the Rumble, oh no, that was my buddy Rob, he signed me up. I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I’m on board with it even now, but I’ll tell you what I do know: I’m coming in hot, and I’m coming in to put some stupid bitches on their asses. I don’t know if I’ll win, I doubt I will if I’m completely honest, because I’ve watched how the match goes down, too many bodies, too much chance to be blindsided.
Honestly? It’s just as much about luck than skill, this event. That’s right, Arnold, Dillinger, they both got lucky if you ask me, Rob swears blind that he knew what he was doing but I’ve known him long enough to know when he’s bluffing. If Dillinger tries to tell you otherwise as well, we he’s flat out lying. It’s all too easy to have a stray fist put you off, or for bodies to bounce you around like you’re on the dodgems.
…I guess I’m just hoping it’s my fist that knocks you off.”
Chant smiles menacingly.
“Believe me XHF Network, I’m under no illusions about the Rumble, I can’t stand here and tell you that I’ll be winning, but it won’t stop me playing to win. It won’t stop me putting my fist through your face, it won’t stop be dropping your body like it was a piece of trash. Because that’s who Leon Chant is, I don’t care who you are, I don’t care where you’re from, I especially don’t care about your little web shows, your PSA’s, your dick waving contests that so many of you seem intent on doing. None of that matters.
What matters to me is if you’re in front of me, I will victimise you, I will hurt you, and you will know that you’ve been in a ring with me. You’ll know for sure who Leon Chant is.”
Chant feigns to turn away, but stops, and grins once more.
“And hey, since I’m playing to win, maybe I’ll get lucky too, after all the shit I’ve put up with, I’m due a bit of luck. And then not only will my name be etched in your memories, but you’ll be left with hearing just three words…
…Oh. Hell. Yes.”
He turns the light back off, and we fade to black.
