The Fire Unleashed ✔

18. Wretchedness

I had no idea what to do. After that terribly failed attempt, I had no idea whom to turn to for help. Obviously, there were many people around me who would be more than willing to be my punching bag or to simply be an adviser, but for some reason, I was ashamed of my thought process.

I didn't want them to think that I spent all of my free time thinking about revenge and him. I didn't want them to think that this is what I have in my life - wake up, go to work, eat, exercise, go to bed and then think of how to kill him instead of sleeping.

At the same time, it had become a pressing need for me to unload all of these emotions that had been steadily building up in my heart since the past few days. The anticipation of coming face to face with my arch nemesis, and then not being able to was something I was physically unable to handle.

And so, I turned towards the one person who would invariably become my punching bag without asking questions, without being nosy and without belittling me. I turned to my mentor, Paul.

I knew where to find him since he was always cooped up in there - the gym. He said that the gym was his salvation, his protection, his friend, mentor and greatest adviser. Today, I wanted to try it out and see if the gym can help out in some way. Maybe, its bare walls and machines made out of iron will help strengthen my resolve and not make me feel ashamed anymore.

I saw Paul lifting up some weights as I entered the place. He looked at peace and comfortable, just the way I had seen him all my life. His back was turned to me, yet he could see and hear me. He spoke up as soon as I entered,

"Did you kill him?"

He was direct, to the point and his question was asked nonchalantly, still it contained a smidgen of nervousness and anticipation. He had been another one of those people who desperately wanted to see the Italian brute die, and I had failed him too.

I had nothing to say. I couldn't get together enough dauntlessness to tell him that I couldn't do it in my own voice. That would be the last step to my doom. So I remained silent, unmoving from my place. In that moment, I felt like a little boy all over again who used to get scolded by Paul whenever he didn't carry out his orders.

Whenever I failed to run a certain number of miles, or didn't do a certain number of pushups and gave up earlier than expected, this would be the exact same scene. He would stand in front of me with his hands behind his back and I would stand with mine in front, dying in frustration and repentance.

And then, would come my punishment which was usually harder to endure than the rest of our routine - because it was unexpected. I had no idea or knowledge of what I would be doing and that sudden change would be really hard for me to adjust to. But over the years, I became better and better at adjusting and improving in such sudden situations. Maybe this was all preplanned by him, only to make me stronger and tougher.

But this time, it was the exact opposite. Paul silently kept down his weights, turned towards me and said another simple, negative sentence.

"You could not kill him."

I was about to say something in return when he came over to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Come in, let's have a sparring match today. Show your old man all that you have got. I would like to learn few tricks I might have forgotten all over again."

He was so calm about all of this. He wanted me too, to be the same. I don't have the slightest idea about how he does it, but I don't think I will be able to successfully block out my worthless thoughts and focus on this match in such times.

But I couldn't refuse him. Not because he was my advisor or older than me, but because I trust him. I trust him the most out of all the people and I know that if he says something, it's going to be beneficial for me. So even when I wasn't too keen on acting upon this idea, I went along with it nonetheless.

We quickly put on our protective helmets and gloves, and started the match. The boxing ring had a calm yet powerful aura to it. The fiery red that painted the ground beneath us reminded us of our passion for the sport, and the metal wiring on all the sides was a painful yet glorious reminder of our courage and strength. It was my breath and life too, not just Paul's. And I was already feeling alive and rejuvenated.

As soon as we entered the ring, we started circling each other, trying to find an open spot to attack, trying to look for each other's weaknesses. This went on for two rounds until I got impatient and struck his unprotected left side. Immediately, I was cornered. He was waiting for the opportunity and instantly caught hold of my fist and forearm with both of his hands, twisted my arm over my head, turned me around and kicked me hard on my back which had me rolling off to the sides in seconds.

That was a good jostle and a wake up call to get more ferocious. I woke up instantly and charged again, this time armed with not only my anger towards Roberto, but also with my passion towards the sport and my competitive streak. I jump kicked Paul which sent him a few steps backward, and I used that opportunity to punch him in the nose, jaw and chest, giving him a perfect and deadly triple kill.

Although it barely did anything to his monstrous frame, I was satisfied by the fact that he was staggering by my blows and I was responsible for the minuscule amount of damage I had done which was a Herculean task for most of his disciples.

I was now starting to like this idea more and more.

--------------------------------------------