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 A Name Which Lives in Infamy, Beware the park after dark
Posted: Aug 17 2006, 03:19 AM

Princess of Highland

Group: Admin
Posts: 647
Member No.: 71
Joined: 26-October 05

((Continued from: Premonition))

The night had not been a kind one for one, Eric Silvstedt. Not only had his lousy excuse for a mother gone to her drug-addict of a boyfriend's house up in the so-called "nice" part of town and proceeded to stay gone the entire night, leaving his younger sisters down in the basement to fend off any and all villains that may come, but in addition to it all, Eric had been subjected to horrendous nightmares over the course of the night after falling asleep in front of that "Survival of the Fittest" television show that had taken over the networks by storm these past few days.

The night had been virtually sleepless, and every time Eric fell asleep, he'd endured another nightmare. Finally, he'd given up on ever getting any rest. Around three that morning he'd stumbled into the kitchen and fixed himself a cup of coffee, determined not to fall asleep again lest he be subjected to another of those daunting and eerie dreams. It was then that the loud clattering noise had echoed out from the front porch, practically sending Eric into hysterics. He'd grabbed the aluminum baseball bat that lay dormant beside his door and rushed into the living room, baseball bat raised high, determined to eliminate their intruder.

Much to his surprise, it was no intruder who burst through the front door but rather his younger brother, Lucas. He didn't seem in the mood to talk, and Eric could only imagine that he and that girl had gotten into another fight that had sent him scurrying back to his room. It was good that Luc didn't want to talk about it, because Lord knows Eric didn't want to hear about his younger brother's sex life and relationship problems. Luc had simply pushed past him and headed up the stairs to his room. Eric hadn't protested, and after securing the locks on the front door once again, he'd returned to his seated position in the kitchen with his coffee.

Minutes passed, then hours.

Somewhere during the passage of time, probably around four-thirty or five that morning, Eric had had enough of sitting at the kitchen table staring absent-mindedly at the rings that had been created from many a glass left on the wood for too long. So, he'd gone into his bedroom, changed into a wifebeater and a pair of windbreaker pants, slid on his running shoes, and set off down the road. Now, he found himself jogging aimlessly down the overgrown walking trail of Tilles Park, brooding quietly to himself. Eric Silvstedt was a lot of things. He was tired, he was hungry, he was annoyed, but most of all, Eric was just downright mad. Had he not come home last night, his sisters, both of whom were barely into the world, would've spent the night in that old and delapidated house all alone.

Doesn't she ever think about anyone but herself? What would've happened if they'd been there alone and Luc had come busting in at three o'clock in the morning? What the hell's her problem, anyway? She's not a teenager anymore, she's a grown adult, she needs to fucking act like one. Fucking bitch, needs to stand up and take responsibility for--

The loud crack that echoed out from behind him barely registered in Eric's mind. Instead, all he felt was the searing pain of a blunt object connecting with his back, followed by the feeling of him floating through the air, and all at once, him slamming into the rugged and busted up concrete of the walkway. Rolling onto his back in shock and surprise, Eric looked up at the gangly teenager who stood behind him, wooden baseball bat in hand. He looked like your typical thug, bandana wrapped around his forehead, decked out in a white tanktop and black cargo pants that didn't fit him.

Once again, all Eric felt was anger. Despite the pain that racked through his body from being hit full-force with a baseball bat, Eric felt himself launching toward the other boy, knocking him onto the concrete along with him. Reaching up, Eric forced the boy's head onto the concrete with one hand, meanwhile allowing his other fist to impact with the boy's face. He grinned slightly at the sick cracking sound that was made as bone slammed into bone. More than anything, though, he was pissed.

"All I wanted to do was come out here and clear my head, motherfucker! That's all I wanted! What the fuck did you plan on doing, anyway? Beating me with the ballbat and stealing my money? I don't have any money motherfucker, I'm not stupid! All that for nothing!"

Eric's fist once again slammed into the boy, this time impacting in his stomach and knocking the air from his lungs. Frantically, the boy's arms began waving around in a pleading manner, as though he were bading Eric to stop the assault. The boy coughed and sputtered a bit from the impact of Eric's fist into his stomach before finally coughing out a sentence.

"I'm sorry dude! I'm sorry! Please man, just let me go! Just let me go!"

Scoffing at the comment, Eric rose to his feat, pulling the much smaller boy, who had obviously been using the bat for leverage, up along with him. The boy smiled a grateful smile, surprised that he was being shown sympathy by the boy he'd just attacked. Eric, however, had other plans. The thug's eyes widened in a frightened manner as Eric's fist went flying toward his face. Blood spewed from his nose, staining the white wifebeater a crimson color in the front as Eric's fist impacted with his nose. The impact sent the boy flying back onto the concrete, and he held his broken nose in horror.

"Let you go? What would you have done, huh?" Eric shrieked in a rage as he kicked the baseball bat away from the other boy's grasp, "Would you have let me go? You just hit me with a fucking ballbat, man! You were gonna fucking mug me!"

Eric's eyes met with the boy's, and he couldn't help but feel some sense of familiarity. He probably knew this kid from somewhere. In fact, that's just what he was. A kid. No older than Eric, maybe even a few years younger. That's what this cesspool called Tilles Court did to you. It turned otherwise good kids into thugs-in-training. They learned the tricks of the trade here, and this boy was learning early. Shaking his head in disgust, Eric spit toward the sprawled out boy and reached down for the baseball bat.

No sooner had he grabbed it and risen to his feet, however, did he see his would-be attacker scurrying off in the other direction. Shaking his head in anger and frustration, Eric let out a savage yell before swinging the baseball bat into the nearby lightpost and shattering the glass and bulb that helped to illuminate the dark trail. Just as quickly as the chaos had begun, all was silent. Well, relatively silent. Tossing the baseball bat to the side, Eric limped back off toward his humble abode, the only noises on the streets now the sounds of the neighborhood dogs barking and a car alarm that was going off somewhere in the distance.

((Continued in: I keep having these strange dreams lately...))
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