Maxwell

Have I always wanted to be a fighter? I think I've always wanted to be a fighter even when the whole world and society told me it was wrong when mother would beat me for fighting. As I grew and moderated my behaviour I've always been more drawn to the action fighting movies, the bloody Anima's and the gore-filled books. I won't even start going on about the sub/Dom sex literature and culture in general.

It's not that its about power or dominance over another person or wanting to cause pain or misery. I, in fact, tried to keep the people closest to me happy and I've never lashed out at any of them in anger as an adult. It's the fighting itself that has always called to me like a long lost brother returning after a long perilous journey. The fight draws me like its a living person trying to remind me of the close friendship we had in a past life.

Even as I tempered my behaviour and conformed to the norms and the values of society I wanted to be in a fight. I yearned for it in the deep parts of my psyche like I imagine an alcoholic thirsts for a drink. I occasionally got a taste now and again, of course, like all teenagers do. I got into a few scraps and I would sometimes laugh and giggle as I took or gave a beating. None of my friends had any trouble starting a fight without the surety of backup if an extra fist was needed, I should have known that would eventually get me in trouble.

* *

‎ When i was 24 years old In a bar with Quade and Jericho I got into a fight defending one of them, I'm not even sure who started what we were all so drunk. But one thing led to another and the cops where called to break us up. Only one of the other fighters never got up, and there ensued a case of manslaughter, which I lost.

I don't know how but every fight I had ever been in since junior high was brought up and I was painted as a maniac that couldn't be satisfied without a pound of flesh. Everything was twisted and concrewed in a way that even my own mother was shocked and surprised at my delinquent behaviour. But I had a semi-competent lawyer and the video clearly showed I hadn't instigated the fight so I only got to sentenced a year in prison for involuntary manslaughter. I think the minimum amount of time I could serve for that crime.

I was still young and hopeful, a year isn't a very long time when you're only 24 years old, I was so naïve.

*

First I got into a fight at the eating dinning hall because everyone gets into a fight in prison. But this fight was different than any other fight I'd ever been in because the man wanted to kill me for my jelly, my first fight with the expectation of death. I was quarantined for a while after that and all you have for company is yourself for hours on end between food shoved under the door.

My second fight was in the yard three months later, I was jumped and I'm still not sure why but I fought off 3 guys and ended up at the infirmary for stab wounds I didn't even feel at the time of the fight. I had to get something close to 16 stitches and I was thankful my attackers couldn't find anything sharper or deadlier.

My brush with fights to the death in prison were different to my usual fights as a free man. It's all adrenaline, fear, blood and snort. Everything happens quickly and nothing is controlled, nothing at all is controlled. You also have to keep in mind that there are gangs in prison, societies that develop and thrive in that type of environment and the way you respond to situations determines where you are in the hierarchy of the society that's been built there. And not participating isn't a valid option for very long, nor is it a very safe option because without a society you become an outlier, a lone wolf, a non-conformer and there is something within the psychology of the human animal that doesn't like none conformity.

And so the rest of the conformers will discriminate against you, they will look down upon you and consider you a Samaritan, an outsider. And that's the name I was christened with on the inside, Samaritan.

I had no protection in there, no society to watch my back and only occasional acquaintances before they realized talking to me wasn't very good for their health. I was ganged up on a few more times and had the shit kicked out of me and accumulated a few broken bones but I was never raped, I never had my food taken from me, I never had to go through initiation by stabbing a shiv into anyone. I was mostly left alone until someone was sent to test themselves against me either in a 1 on 1 fight or a 2 on 1 fight.

I got out of there in 8 months of the sentence with so many scares and I was very surprised I was alive. I got home to fanfare with my cousins and uncles but they all looked at me differently. I was an unsafe animal that could lash out at any moment, I was no longer a civilised being in their eyes.

I had to have a job to satisfy the government that had 'paroled' me though, I was on a leash and if I left my leash I was told I'd be put back in a cell. I worked for my uncle at the jewellery store for 3 months while I looked for work elsewhere, I had a routine, life is so much easier with a routine. But no one in the business community was hiring anyone with a felony on their records.

The criminal justice system seemed to be designed to bar from society anyone it deemed an outlier as well. I was back in prison, only now it was bigger and the people were better liars. I joined a boxing gym just to blow off some steam and it was one of the best decisions of my life, it is very therapeutic hitting about hitting things, and it made me happy.

At 26 years old I had my first semi-professional fight and came home with over $2k. I got interested in joining the UFC so I joined a dojo where I could probably learn to mix it up. It is there I found my spirituality and the beginning of my quest for more meaning than what I had as of then found in the world.

I stopped fighting for money but I still trained in multiple disciplines, even travelled around the world and being part of the fighting community and the spiritual community. I eventually got arrested again in 2032 at 52 years of age for beating up a bunch of kids that raped my nice to within an inch of their lives.

Of course they had rich powerful parents and it was my third strike if you include the unpaid parking ticket and that time I was smoking weed without a licence, plus I was an ex con. Let alone that they may never be able to walk upright or chew food again, the judge threw away the key and I became an old man in Singing.

I had already learnt to be alone and enjoy my own company at that point. I had found my balance and prison became just another place in my transition to finding my ideal self. I didn't exactly fit into the prison society this time around either but I was respected and left alone partly because of my age and partly because I had finally found who I was as a person, and people feel that on a subconscious level and they don't mess with it.

*

"That's a really deep back story Max, or should we be calling you The Samaritan now as well?" Jessica asks and everyone giggles a little.

"Max is fine Jess, how about you Michael? You're yet to tell us how you discovered yourself and you seem very preoccupied today." I say looking at Mike questioningly.

"Sorry, met a girl today. Has my mind in a twist, but don't worry Mr. Samaritan I paid attention to your story. How old where you again when you ascended from earth?" He asks looking up into the sun like he likes doing.

I can't get enough of being able to look at the sun without discomfort either, even the grass we're sitting on is so soft yet somehow almost exactly like it is at home.

"That marks the end of our picnic I think, we've got company." Abdul says standing up and looking at the tree line.

We all stand getting our daggers out while Jess notches an arrow. Its really weird how quickly we've all taken to this type of life were it's a sort of primal survival of the fittest kind of existence. Abdul has some sort of super senses that are never wrong, Mike has some uncanny weather predictive behaviour which is really weird 'cause he claims not to feel cold, Jess is just weird and I'm superman of a sort.

I'm fast, and strong and I can sometimes see things in an almost slow motion around me sometimes. Though I also move as slow as everything else my mind has time to think of many different thing. I'm learning tiger taijutsu while Mike learns flow, Ab learns water and Jess learns snake. But our mandated schedules are almost at an end and we will get to choose what we want to do with our time, mostly.

Two men silently walk out of the tree line and Mike immediately lowers his guard. We follow suit but slower, not yet sure if they mean is no harm. We've been trained to be paranoid so we are, why wouldn't you believe someone giving you advice in their own world.

"Mirabilis is back." One of them says as they walk closer.

"Is she okay?" Michael asks also moving closer, his dagger sheathed.

"Yea, I like your friends. Care to introduce us?"

And like that I meet Rumeria and Estergon.