Something wild happened to me...

By Arawna

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Real Superhero ongoing series. BEST SELLER in Spain. ¡Comic book adaptation and complete eBook novel on the l... More

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapters 4 & 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapters 8 & 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapters 14 & 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapters 21 & 22
Chapters 23 & 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27

Chapter 20

117 6 0
By Arawna

Wednesday, March 28th, 2007: 10:13 PM

Martial arts

So this is Rafa’s “great” idea:

Xavier is a friend who is over six feet and weighs a bit more than 200 pounds. Pure muscle and mass, and a bad mood when he needs it. He’s been practicing all sorts of martial arts since he was seven. I think he started with judo, then went to taekwondo when he realized that there was no kicking or punching involved. When he realized he couldn’t get any better, he took up karate, and now he has the third dan and is a teacher at a Mataró martial arts school. He has also taken up kick-boxing, muai-thai and even went to ninjutsu classes for a year or two. A fucking killing machine.

One night, about four years ago, a group of gypsies came in from the Mataró Cerdanyola neighborhood and went to his school and took off with all of his trophies and belts he had earned from all of his championships. I remember how he got the next day when he found out. He was furious, hysterical and unconsciously smacked the wall closest to him with his right fist. Xavier would have preferred that they stole all of his money before that. We all thought he would get over it. Anyway, it was impossible to get it all back. Who goes into the gypsy neighborhood to get something back that they’ve stolen from you?

Xavier went in. And the fucker managed to get back everything they had taken. He never told us—not us, or anyone we knew—what happened there. And maybe it’s best not to know. 

Anyway, Rafa wants me to fight with him to see if I really have powers. I don’t know, I would almost prefer to jump onto the train tracks. At least it would be faster.

I still remember how, ten years ago, it was my turn to fight Xavier. At that time, I rued the day I decided to sign up for kickboxing. The only thing I could do was turn my back to him, cover myself and take it, and if I was lucky, let out some treacherous blow that rarely managed to hit its target.

Now I’m seriously thinking about my friend’s words. Maybe my mind did exaggerate everything and I’m still the same guy as before.

Maybe Rafa’s right. He always is…

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