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Bloody Knuckles and Broken Bottles

King Wiz

    The air felt like a sharp knife as I walked out into the cold. Tuesdays, I always hated Tuesdays for some reason. What made me hate Tuesdays more was that my phone has been ringing for the past two weeks on the same day with some jerk saying he knows something. I tightened my trench coat around me and lit up a cigar, trying to keep myself warm. The thought of somebody knowing my past worried me. Everybody who knew my past were either taken care of or was long gone on some fool’s attempt to climb the ranks in the criminal underworld like everybody else in this rotten town. The ringing of the phone ripped me away from my train of thought. I flipped open my phone and finally answered it.
    “Meet me at Marv’s bar tonight” said the voice. It was something about this voice that felt like an angry spirit. Could it be a ghost from the past trying to haunt me? The identity of this mysterious caller was killing me. There was no point in me trying to follow any leads and get the drop on this person. I had to face this demon face to face. The trek to the diner felt longer then usual. Getting there, I flicked the cigar onto the ground and walked inside, letting the smell of bacon and pancakes whisk me on a journey. I thought I heard angels singing the glories of pancakes, but it was just Mary greeting me.
    “Charlie! You look like you haven’t eaten in days! Come over here and let me pour a cup of coffee. Patrick is cooking your pancakes and bacon just how you like.” Mary poured me a cup of coffee and gave me a smile. I gave her a quiet nod and sat down drinking. I heard the bell ring as the front door opened and I looked back seeing a couple of knuckleheads looking for trouble.
    “Mary? I hope you have insurance on this place.” I said calmly as I continued drinking my coffee. I reached into my pockets and slipped on my brass knuckles. I could hear the kids harassing the customers. These knuckleheads needed a lesson in manners. I lunged at the first kid and knocked a few of his teeth out with the first two punches. I didn’t give the second kid a chance to react as I elbowed him in the face. The third kid was quicker, grabbing a glass and smashed it in my face. I stumbled back into the counter. Looking back at it now, I was surprised that nobody came to my rescue. Maybe nobody wanted to help an old gangster like me or maybe it was God telling me that my time was coming near. But my survival instincts kicked in, I slowly reached for a fork and stabbed the kid. I ignored his screams and punched with everything I got. The kid was down, my head is bleeding, and it felt like I fought a whole army by myself. The phone ringing was the last thing I needed right now. I flipped it open and answered the call.
    “Remember what I said. Don’t get cold feet on me just because a bunch of youngsters knock you around,” the voice felt familiar but at the same time it didn’t. I sighed as I hung up and rubbed my face. The only bad thing out of this fight was that I didn’t get to eat my pancakes. I headed out before the cops came and started asking questions. I slipped off my brass knuckles and headed back home. Time felt slow as I prepared myself to face my demon. I suited up in my bulletproof vest and checked the time. It was only eleven o’ clock pm and it would take fifteen to thirty minutes to get to the bar give or take. The drive to the bar felt like I bought a ticket to my own funeral. I parked my car in the empty parking lot and headed inside the bar. My fears were realized when I saw a younger man standing there with his back to me.
    “It’s about time you got here old man. Before we get to the matters at hand. Do you know who I am?” the young man asked.
    “You’re just another man I will kill today. I bet you’re some small fish trying to make it big time,” said Charlie with his arms crossed against his chest.
    “You can’t even recognize your own flesh and blood. Don’t remember me big brother?” said the man as he turned around. It was Jason; he was Charlie’s little brother by two years. Charlie couldn’t believe it was Jason after all those years.
    “Jason! I thought you-” Charlie wasn’t able to finish when Jason pulled out a gun on him.
    “You ripped apart our family. You killed mother, father, and our little sister! You’re nothing but a monster!” yelled Jason in the amidst of tears.
    “Sometimes it takes a monster to kill a monster. We come from a family of hired killers, but they enjoyed killing too much. A decision had to be made and I made the call. Jason, I don’t want to shoot you little brother,” said Charlie.
    “Its too late for that old man,” said Jason. Charlie thought fast and quickly grabbed Jason’s shooting arm and moved it out of his face. Bullets flew everywhere, before Charlie punched Jason in the face. The two brothers fought till Jason got some room and shot his brother in the chest. As Charlie stumbled back, he pulled out his gun getting two shots out. One hit his chest and the other square in the head. Charlie hit the ground and opened his shirt, revealing that the vest had saved his life. Looking at his dead brother, he sighed sadly.
    “Man, I really do hate Tuesdays.”

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