Creeping Death Chronicles 004: Another Death In the Trainyard

Black.

A lightbulb clicks on, flickers, and illuminates the inside of a wooden shack. Standing beneath it, JOSIE GREY. She stares forward, and smiles, before grabbing the nearby wooden chair and dragging it towards her. She sits, her loyal hellhound RASPUTIN runs up by her side and takes his place, standing like a statue. Josie crosses her camo pants clad legs and leans back.

“Hobo…King…”

She scoffs.

“Well, Hi.”

“I’ll keep this short…but I would like this time to acknowledge your REIGN on the gutter, my friend. You TRULY are the Titan of Trash, the Downtrodden Deity, the Prince of the Panhandlers…GOOD for you. Making something out of literally nothing.”

“But let’s be honest, that’s not exactly something to be proud of, is it? A King to the unwashed masses?”

“And a King who cheats, at that.”

Josie tsks and shakes her head.

“You’re no King at all…you’re just a weirdo, sitting in a boxcar, yelling at other dudes who are just trying to sleep. You’re just another guy on the corner, unwashed and unshaven, hollering about a doomsday coming in some way or other. I’m from PARIS, my friend, if you think I haven’t met one or nine Hobo King’s in my life, then you’re kidding yourself. If you think I haven’t had to fight my way out of hell once or twice, you’re delusional. All you need to do is look me up on YouTube and you’ll see me going to god damn WAR with demons, hunters, and hell itself on multiple occasions…so while your little spiel was well said? It fell on deaf ears, mon amie. I might be new HERE, but I’m not new to battle, and every bit of hell that you bring with you to that ring come Triumph won’t mean shit compared to mine.”

“Nah, you’re nothing special, Jack…you’re nothing to be proud of in any capacity. Not only are you just a crazy guy in a trainyard, you’re ALSO someone who has to stoop to cheating to getting a win. You and I have done this once before, and you got so desperate, you had to use the ropes to your advantage just to walk away with a win and a smile.”

“But here’s the thing, Hobo…this time, I have someone in my corner watching my back, making sure your boxcar tomfoolery doesn’t come into play. I have the one and only Fallon Stone, the main event herself, keeping an eye on the action. So if you try again? You’re fucked, buddy. Just remember that. It’s just you and me in that ring, Carlton…all of your trainyard shit and all of your pontificating goes out on the window when it comes to that ring, on that night, against this opponent. You said it yourself…you kept harping on about it…I’m a god damn Prodigy. I’m able to adapt and learn and master very, very quickly…”

Josie leans forward and smirks.

“So allow me to show you WHAT I’ve learned since we last met…Hobo.”

“You will come face to face with every single one of your many, many faults in that ring as I dissect you in front of millions of people and leave you lying a bloody, useless mess…the prodigy vs the hobo king?”

“Prodigy wins.”

“Fatality.”

“So…as a parting…gift? I guess? I’ll leave you with something my father said to me when I was a girl. He had many faults, but imparting words of wisdom was not one of them…He said”:

Never turn your back…on someone you fear…or respect…

Josie smiles wide…

And slowly turns around with her chair.

She looks over her shoulder with her patched eye…a wicked grin across her face.

"Fight Me."

Fín.