Revenge of the Sheik, Part Two
Apr 17, 2024 18:01:52 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 1 more like this
Post by The Sheik on Apr 17, 2024 18:01:52 GMT -5
Six
‘This is serious,’ Graves said as he looked up from the piles of papers they had looted from the rooms of the German and his men.
It seemed the group of mercenaries were hired to steal antiquities from the Empty Quarter. And they then sold those on the Black Market to pay for things they kept off the books.
Terrorism.
Arms trading.
Paying for a private army.
Graves grumbled as he shifted the papers around, He leans back, shaking his head as the Sheik stared at him with a grunt. The Sheik knew his friend was right.
These people were dangerous, they were ready. They had money on their side, they had powerful allies, they were protected. But the Sheil burned with a lust for revenge. He burned with it, he could taste blood in his mouth.
He looked at his hands, these people had taken away his life. They had killed his friends, his family, his children. Everything he had ever wanted or loved they stole from him. They had made him into a monster, into a beast.
He wanted to hurt them.
His hands were balled into fists, the scars across his knuckles a livid white as he looked down at them. His vision was red at the edges, and he looked away as he gritted his teeth. He took a few deep breaths, and growled a question.
Graves looked up at him, blinking as he lowered the papers.
‘You can’t be serious! They will have guards everywhere! This place is like a fortress!’
Seven
The Sheik stared down at the image that was slid around to face him, a digital picture of the building. His eyes narrowed, and rage hammered at his temple. It demanded blood, he demanded blood! He needed this company to bleed, it’s masters to bleed. He growled, and then spat a few sharp words at Graves before he stalked from the room.
The building sat in a pool of bright light as he knelt in the darkness beyond the fence. And even from here he could see the gleam of razor wire atop the chain links. There were few empty corners or shadows he could see, and a pair of guards would walk around e as ch truck before they would let it through the gate.
The guards themselves were armed with pistols, and light ballistic vests. But they were well-disciplined and organized, not lazy. That told him this was no mere hub in Vorga’s chain. There was something important inside, and to his knowledge: someone. He ground his teeth together, fingers tearing at the feeble grass below him.
He knew the guards had more than pistols down there. He knew he would be seen by men or cameras before he drew too close. And the lights would reveal him before that if he was not careful.
He was so close. He could taste it, he could taste blood on his tongue. He could feel his revenge slipping away. They were too many, too strong, and they would stop him from having justice.
He wanted to scream, to howl, to throw himself at this place and die before it. But something made him stop, he stared at the guards as they waved through another truck. Speaking into their radios, and watching the night.
He would need help against this enemy. But he would be so foolish or mad to throw themselves at Vorga. Who had a private army to battle such a thing? Who would be willing to see his bloody task to the end?
And then? The Sheik knew his answer.
Eight
In the old world, his people had stories of spirits. Spirits that roamed the empty places of the world, the lonely places that people had forgotten. Some were bond to God, and others were not. They lurked in these places beyond good or evil, often wearing the shapes of men or beasts. They could be cruel, or indifferent.
They were often things of death.
The Sheik knew of such creatures, of such men. He had seen them over the years, but it was not until he came to XHF he knew what they were. And what was more, he had fought their master. The creature believed he was a God himself, a mad thing of blood and shadows, a spirit of wrath and madness.
And so it was that the Sheik walked across the ruined edges of the parking lot. He was not surprised when two men wearing masks stepped from the shadows. They stared at him as he paused a few feet away, and he snarled. His temper raged in him, but he had not come to fight. He forced down his rage, and lifted a scarred hand to drag across his face before he spoke.
The men looked at each other, and drew aside. A door opened, and the Sheik walked past them through the rust pitted door. The interior of the ruined building smelled of rust and mildew, and overhead dim lights flickered as they spoke in hushed tones to a man in a crisp grey suit. He arched a pale brow, looking to the Sheik before the men drew back.
‘You think you can walk in here and demand to see–’
The Sheik cut him off with a slash of his hand, and he grit his teeth. His words came in a low growl, and the suited man tsked softly. The men in masks circled slowly, and the Sheik dropped back in a crouch.
Then the voice spoke from the darkness. ‘Enough.’
At once the suited man turned, and he bowed low as his henchmen drew away from the Sheik. Something stirred in the dusty shadows, and metal gleamed before two huge men stepped forward. Black gleaming masks like skulls stared at him, a shiver running through them. These men were killers, they were beasts, hounds in the shape of men. They would do whatever their master commanded, and not bat an eye.
The other figure was draped in a long leather coat of dusty black, leather straps and buckles dangled around the creature as it pushed back it’s hood. A metal mask stylized like a skull but not quite looked at him, and the head tilted with a soft hiss.
The Sheik glared back.
He did not like the King of the Jinn, he did not know any men who did. He was proud, and cruel. He was arrogant and mean spirited. He was too clever by half. But worst of all the Sheik hated the Voice. His voice was cold, indifferent, it was smug and condescending. He always felt the creature for the Sheik didn’t think of it as a man was laughing at everyone.
Like it heard a joke that only it understood.
Once long ago he had faced such pain and anger to survive he had become a beast. He gave into his rage, and wallowed in violence and suffering to forget. To escape the torment that haunted him. He didn’t want to remember his life before, he didn’t want to think about the things that had been taken from him.
It had happened slowly, a little easier each time he let himself sink beneath the bloodlust.
But the thing that called itself the Scourge had chosen it. He didn’t forget his pain, he didn’t forget his anger, he remembered it all. It bathed in them, wore them like armor, it would never allow itself to forget any torment or any slight. It would never forget, it would never stop thinking about what had been done to it.
It had decided to be a monster, and it made everyone around it a monster.
The Sheik scowled, fingers curling into a fist before he spoke. He spoke in Arabic, and he knew that the creature would understand his words. He always did.
‘I need your help.’
There was a flicker of surprise in the eyes under the mask, and the Sheik almost felt the thing smile at him. A hand lifted, and fingers snapped absently. The two brutes near the Scourge dropped back, and he settled atop one of the broken machines as he leaned back to stare at him. Head tilting as the man in the suit moved forward, and he sat up a metal chair for the Sheik.
The Great King of Terror settled on it, and the two men stared at each other. They had both become monsters by their own hands for different reasons. But the Sheik needed a monster, he needed a monster that other monsters would fear.
He stared into the empty eyes of the mask, and he started to tell his story.
Nine
‘Where the fuck are you, man!’ snapped Graves as he glared at his phone. Then he shoved it away as he heard someone approaching. And he turned to come face to face with the pretty blonde Katie Moss of WUK. She flashed a million dollar smile as her crew stood behind her. Graves tugged at his tie, and straightened as he met her eyes.
The Sheik told him to play it cool, his enemies knew Sheik would be in the Rumble. He needed them to keep thinking that was his focus. And so he would do his job.
‘MXG, do you have any words from your client the Sheik about the Rumble before his match with Kalmin Watts?’
Graves almost rolled his eyes, he had about had it with Watts.
‘You know what? I do. You see these dudes in the Rumble are alot like Watts! They sit here and they talk about this shit or that shit. And they are all focused on this one or that one, this little feud or that little feud! They have to beat this one or that one to prove whatever!
But the Sheik ain’t like that! No, because you see the Sheik is not like these 29 other motherfuckers walking into the Rumble! He’s a killer, he’s an animal! He’s the greatest combat athlete in XHF! And in this environment with no rules?
Well, he’s that much above that!’
Graves warmed up, and he pulled off his sunglasses. He glared at Katie Moss, and the camera before he shoved them inside of his lapel. He tugged at the jacket, and waved a hand as he continued.
‘We have dudes out here, like I cheated death! We have dudes who are like I escaped Hell! We have these dudes out here trying to get their stepdaughters to stab them!
Well, the Sheik? The Sheik doesn’t need that shit! What the Sheik is going to do? Is maim anyone who gets in his fucking way! He is going to make you all fucking famous, okay? You don’t need your stepdaughter to stab your old ass, Dave. The Sheik will just take your fucking head off, and you don’t need to prove shit to Fox because–’
Graves undid a button on his jacket, and Katie Moss arched a brow.
‘--if my man wants to spend more time catching up with his husband, and doing couples therapy, or whatever he is doing? That is cool, because brother you will have all the time in the world to do it after the Sheik makes you wish you were still dead!
And that includes that escapee from the Retirement Home in Hell, Spike.
You know what Spike? I get down on my knees, I get down on my knees every day! EVERY DAY! And I thank God that Donzig is such a piece of shit driver that he didn’t manage to take you out! Because if he had, if he had? My client would not be able to kick the piss out of your over rated Irish ass, and send you back to Hell!
And by Hell I do mean Belfast!
Marty? Marty? Listen, you were more fun when you were pimping streaming services, man. Fuck. just go already.’
He paused, and looked to Katie.
‘Did I get all of them?’
Katie tilted her head, thinking before she flashed a smile.
‘You forgot Kasper, I think?’
‘Oh, shit, how could I forget Kasper.’
Graves rolled his eyes, and he tapped his cane against the floor.
‘Kasper, I hear you’re out here! You think you’re Chaka Khan or some shit, right? You’re every woman? You’re going to be the first woman with the X-Crown?
Kasper, the Great King of Terror? My client? He doesn’t give two fucks what you are, or you aren’t. Boy, girl, girl, boy, boy, boy! Girl, girl, girl? Doesn’t matter because if you get in the way of the Sheik! If you get in the way of my client, the single greatest fighter in the XHF! The single greatest combat athlete in XHF! He will tear you apart, he will rip your fucking arms off!
He will send your pieces back to Crane, so he can hold his soft boy title while the Sheik wears the X-crown!’
Katie gasped, and Graves was in the zone.
‘And to the HKW brass, when the Sheik wins the Xcrown! When the Great King of Terror elevates your shitty promotion back to the top of the XHF! Yeah? When that happens? You are not only going to regret protecting your soft ass champions from the Sheik! You are going to have to bust out your checkbook and write down another zero, and another zero, and another!
Because it is going to be payday if you want to stay on top, Valentine! You fucking got that?’
Graves pointed, and Katie was looking on as the man continued.
‘All of these people out here posting memes, all of these people talking about this or that! My fucking client fought for his life in the fighting pits of the Empty Quarter! My man fought for his dinner, he put food in his mouth with his skills at beating down his opponents, and you think you are all going to stop him?
He walked alone out of the Empty Quarter, out of the most inhospitable place on Earth and started to fight! But you all are overlooking that guy because there are some memes!
Cool.’
Graves pulled out his sunglasses, and opened them before he placed them on his face. He tugged on his coat, nodding at Katie before he sauntered off with his cane in hand. She stared after him, and then sighed.
‘I have had worse interviews.’