Logic of a Madman: I

Characters: Ken Kaze & Sylo (written by Justin; edited by Richie)

He saw George. He saw flowers. And he saw a happy smiling sun named Julio Juan Reyez Osterio Venagas Rodriguez Estrada Jr. – the ultraviolet rays beaming down upon his flesh. Yes, it’s a Mexican sun. Spanish, Hispanic – WHATEVER! GOT BEEF? Didn’t think so. Neither did Julio as he smiled down upon Ken Kaze and waved a bit. Ken smiled and waved back as he picked up George the Trashcan and began to skip through a field of office furniture. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Kaze skipped along, laughing with his best friend George. All seemed right in Ken’s world as the warm rays of sunshine kept the temperature just right. However, it was soon replaced as Julio yelled down at Kaze.

“Wake up you motherf[BEEP!]er!”

The sunshine began to frown and soon rain doused Kaze like a tidal wave.

Snap back to reality.

Water now ran off of Kaze, dripping into a large puddle on the floor. He coughed a bit as water flew from his body into the surrounding darkness. He struggled to move, but found it impossible. He attempted to move his head, but it only lulled back fighting against his every movement. He was too tired to try and fight back. After a moment of rest he had enough strength to raise his head just a bit and see that he had been tied to a metal chair by enormous thick chains. Instantly, he let out a slight groan as some of the chains dug into his flesh, causing extreme discomfort, but nothing was worse than the taste of dried blood that had caked the inside of his mouth.

The Hero of Hardcore began to scan the room as best he could. His eyes seemed to be working against him and would not focus to save the life of him. At last, he could make out a table, a swinging lamp right above his head, and darkness. He sighed and closed his eyes again, trying to get them to focus a little more, but that was when the all too familiar feeling of spine chilling cold air brushed against his body, rattling his soul within. It felt like millions of tiny spiders running up his flesh, making it crawl just a bit as he shuddered in his iron restraints.

“It’s about time you woke up,” a voice echoed from the shadows.

Kaze’s eyes snapped open and he could see the eerie glow of two icy blue eyes advancing and peering through the darkness.

“You know, for a scrawny little man, you put up one hell of a fight.”

Kaze tried to reply, but found that his throat suddenly closed up. He fought against it, swallowing hard, but this was another battle he was going to lose. After a quick decision, he submitted to defeat and lied back, staring into the abyss of darkness in front of him. Inside his mind, he hoped against hope and prayed to God he would make it out of this alive . . . or, more importantly, saw George again.

“Do you know why you’re here? A simple nod will suffice,” the voice echoed through the darkness.

Kaze simply shook his head, obviously signifying no.

“Allow me to explain.” The source of the voice cleared his throat. “It’s been well over two years now, Kaze, and I know you had something to do with it. You and Polar both did, and now I’m here to make you atone for your sins. I do feel some sympathy for you though, Kaze, because your mind seems to have gone bad. I remember how you used to be, a worthy adversary at best, and you even handed me my first loss in this business. But that’s all changed – I’m not that man anymore. Hell, I wonder if I’m even a man at all.”

Following that simple proclamation, Sylo leaned up from the shadows, sitting on a folding steel chair of his own. He seemed to gape deep down within Kaze, looking for the answers before Kaze even had a chance to be asked the questions. Ken found that his voice now worked as he tried to think of a good rebuttal.

“Are you saying you’re a woman? Or possibly a hermaphrodite? EWWWIES, YOU F[BEEP!]KING SICKO! MY MOMMY TOLD ME ABOUT BADDIES LIKE YOU. THEY SAY . . .” his voiced trailed off into a coarse whisper, “people like you can literally f[BEEP!]k themselves.” His eyes darted from the cold, icy blue eyes of the Superbeast to the floor, back to the Superbeast, and to the floor again. “Mister, I- I didn’t take your monkey!”

So much for a good rebuttal.

Sylo’s eyes narrowed as he snarled his lip up slightly.

“Kaze, does any of this even register with you? Do you not understand that your life is in fact in my hands?” He sighed as Kaze’s face still looked confused. “It was about three months before I was to enter the fighting promotion known as the Asylum. You should remember that time, Kaze, because there was an NTICW reunion show in Phoenix. We all showed up and on that night you and I became entangled in a heated discussion. Do you remember that night Kaze?”

Kaze nodded slightly.

“You said I had sold my soul. I told you that you had been too faithful to the fool Yoder. You told me you’d make me pay for saying that . . . did you not?”

Kaze remained motionless, now stone-faced.

“DID YOU SAY IT OR NOT?!” Sylo snapped.

With apprehension overwhelming him completely now, Kaze nodded in obedience.

“I thought nothing of it. I had my stint in the Asylum, and then I left. I left to clear my head from this whole business and where did I find myself? Mexico. What happened in Mexico? Someone tried to kill me, yet they failed.”

Sylo’s face was now a mixture of stone and vengeance as he finished telling his story.

“I figured it was just some poor Mexican looking for something he could maybe sell, but no, the way this guy moved – he was a professional. I played it off though . . . and a week later I found myself rotting in a Mexican prison because someone had planted cocaine in my house . . . mounds and mounds of pure cocaine . . . and I would have rotted away in that prison if it wasn’t for certain connections!”

He shot up from the chair, kicking it backwards as he did. He placed two hands on the back of Kaze’s chair and leaned in close, staring into his eyes.

“I know you’re not smart enough to set me up . . . because you couldn’t drive your own finger up your ass using both hands. But you do have the money to pay someone to think for you . . .”

The Superbeast was almost frothing at the mouth, snarling, still gazing into the fearful emerald green encircled with yellow eyes of Kaze. The Hardcore Retard just sat, staring back up at Sylo, his joints slowly stiffening as a slight twinge of fear crept up his spine.

“Who did you pay Kaze?”

The respondent said nothing.

“WHO – DID – YOU – PAY?!”

“Look DILDOsmack! I have not a f[BEEP!]king f[BEEP!]box of a clue what you’re talking about. All I know is, I was supposed to fight Polar ‘cause he stole George and painted all those funny messages and tried to kill me. You come out of nowhere with George, and I thought you wanted to be friends . . . but you hit me – hard – and now you have me here! Chained up!” Kaze proclaimed, a bit bold if you asked me, but Kaze was in a world of his own.

Sylo responded with a simple sigh.

“You really are that stupid, aren’t you? You still don’t get it? I set everything up. It was ME who painted those messages . . . it was ME that almost had you both taken out for good . . . it was ME that made you beat the ever loving hell out of each other. I was the puppet master and you two were my puppets!”

Sylo smiled a bit, feeling content with himself. The face of Kaze scrunched up as he thought about what was just said, and then the proverbial light bulb went off.

“Then why did you take me and not Polar!?”

Sylo only smiled.

“Because Polar has no redemption. You do. This is your redemption, Kaze. Polar, on the other hand, will pay in blood . . . Now, are you going to tell me what I need to know or shall we do this the hard way?”

“I don’t know nothing!” Kaze screamed desperately, much akin to the way your little sister does when she can’t get that new Barbie & Ken doll collection set at Wal-Mart because your mother is either: A) a cheap bitch, or B) a cheap ASS bitch.

“Good. I was hoping you’d pick the hard way,” Sylo sneered with finality as he grinned, picking up a blowtorch in the distance, the tip of it engulfed in a blaze.

Kaze stared at the flame wide-eyed, and then looked back to Sylo.

“W- What are you going to do with that?” he faltered

Sylo smirked a second time.

“We’re going to play twenty questions. If you answer wrong . . . I light you up like a Christmas tree.”

Blackness bounded the two, and only the deep, dark laughter of Sylo remained as the scenery on the RaveTron ceased to exist.