Winners and Losers Pt. 1

(Rocco)

Goddammit, if it weren’t enough that three dwellers were making their way toward us while we fought, I’m also running extremely low on energy, right now. Lars is a man of questionable character but if there’s anything I’m good for, it’s understanding who someone is at their core. Maybe if I can appeal to his true nature, this fight can be mediated somehow…

That just seemed like wishful thinking but there doesn’t seem to be any other option. As well as reading their character, it doesn’t take long for me to understand the depths of one’s skill in everything. I meant it when I said this kid could’ve been one of humanity’s strongest leaders… His intuition and proficiency in countless fields are off the charts. How did he become like this?

“...Lars, wait. Before we fight, why are you like this? Why do you want to exist in a fashion that only entertains yourself?”

He put his hands on his hip and looked down. “Old man, I thought I already told you…” He broke out into a full charge in my direction. “... Enough talking!”

The first swing from his right arm was targeting my ribs. It was a heavy punch that I easily dodged, but the force behind it was so severe. Had it hit me, that may have been enough to put me in a critical position… No wonder he feels confident fighting me with his bare hands.

My dodges were a result of decades of experience. Not because I was particularly nimble. Had he gone with a quicker attack and less force behind it, it would’ve easily landed. With that in mind…

Lars took his next hit; it was a mean uppercut to the left side of my face. Dodging that was out of the question, but that was okay. Not only could I roll with the punch, but knowing I couldn’t completely dodge it eliminated one part of the equation. I spent the rest of my power on focusing to make sure my counter wouldn’t miss. While his fist was near my face, I took a knife and jammed it straight into his wrist.

Lars kicked my knee and my body buckled instantly. He jumped back and took the knife out of his wrist. There was blood pouring out of it and all over his arm but he didn’t seem to care.

“You, tricky bastard. That was well-played,” Lars giggled.

He looked at the knife in his hand and then tossed it back towards me.

Still on one knee, I needed to engage in a meaningful conversation to reveal anything essential to winning. In simple combat, he will outclass me, and honestly, it may be before those dwellers even get here.

“Why? Why’d you give me the knife back?”

Lars seemed confused. “Didn’t I already tell you? Without the knives, I could kill you in a matter of seconds. Your punches don’t seem like they would do much against my body. If the fight isn’t fair, then I might as well just kill you now. Is that what you want?”

What is he saying? Does he not want to kill me at any cost? This isn’t how it’s supposed to be!

The mind of a psycho or sociopath is often influenced by desires that hunger for pain or lack empathy for others. In the case of psychopathy, it’s a combination of both. Did Lars really care enough for me to have a fair fight? No, that’s the wrong way to see it. It’s more likely that as a person he derives personal enjoyment out of knowing he bested his opponents fair and square. He still gets off to the idea of violence, it’s just more orderly than chaotic.

If that’s the case… Then yeah, it’s risky but this plan could work. There’s still a way I could get out of this alive…

“You’re right, Lars. I thought you were a blood-hungry monkey whose only desire was to inflict pain for your own happiness. I’m beginning to understand how you fight now. Come, boy. I’ll show you what an old man is capable of!”

His creepy smile stretched across his face. “Yeah, that’s it, gramps! Fight with every ounce of energy left in your primordial body!”

Lars charged again but instead of anticipating his hit, I charged in as well. Avoiding his heavy hits should be easy enough and his fast punches impossible. If that’ll be the case, either way, There’s no reason not to go on offense myself!

He closes the majority of our distance with his impressive speed and lifts his left arm for a punch seemingly targeted towards my face with a nasty hook. I weave the heavy hit by ducking towards his torso. With this stab in the abdomen, I’ll at least make us even. With the last fiber of strength in my arm, I wind up the knife and…

I woke up looking towards the sky. Was that a hint of blue in there? Ever since Y2K, the sky has lost most of its color and exists in an ugly shade of gray. In the past, I used to not care much about what the sky looked like. Clarine would always take me outside to view the sunsets and sometimes even the sunrises. I’d always tell her that the colors come and go all the same and it’d be back the next day. I didn’t understand why it was so important to her to appreciate these kinds of things.

The world existed for me as it always has. Things wouldn’t change until the day I died. I could do whatever I wanted, and even if people hated me for it, the sun would rise and the dawn would come. I’d be able to ignore the myriad of colors in the sky as they appear once again, and onward for the rest of my life.

When Y2K happened and the conversion began, nobody was thinking about the colors of the sunrise and sunset. Everyone was rushing to get their children and families to safety. It was the necessary thing to do. Preserving life and continuing lineage is what’s programmed in every human being’s DNA. That desire to live is to never be underestimated.

That’s why the explanation eluded me. The answer as to why when everyone was running towards the underground, for the first time, I decided to look at the sunset. I still remember that specific sunset to this day. The blue was being faded out into an orange and the clouds began to complement themselves with a pink hue. Out of all the sunsets I saw, practically it looked normal, but it became one of my fondest memories.

I wasn’t strong enough to protect Clarine’s father and part of me hated myself for it but what hurt me the most was the guilt. Not from his death but from how elated I was. It’s like someone finally woke me up from a coma. All this time, my mind has operated in a vegetative state with no appreciation for existence and all within it. Now, I began to see the beauty in every detail.

Even in a harsh world like this, I’d see the good in others and everything around me. People helping each other survive, helping each other learn to live. There were people out there who slaved away so others could enjoy the luxuries of life. Entertainers, workers, farmers, and even scavengers.

In the old world, a carrot on my plate used to mean a disgusting piece of food that should never know the taste buds of any man. Now, they’re a symbol of effort and hope. The human spirit’s capability to continue producing for others despite our lands being taken away from us.

I rubbed my eyes and when my hands came back into view, there was blood all over them. He must’ve anticipated that I’d dodge his left hook and intended to hit me in the face with his knee that entire time. He’s faster, stronger, and arguably more intellectual when it comes to the spirit of battle.

In a messed up way, Lars is the embodiment of humanity’s indomitable will. Some would say that a God or a devil resides in his soul, but to me, I see a man who was forced to learn the way of the world, and not just this one…

I spat out a glob of blood as I stood up. He was waiting for me with his arms crossed in the distance. It seemed I was only out for a few seconds.

“Lars… you told me that God did this to our world to show us a taste of hell… I disagree. None of them want to hear it. If I told them this, they’d tell me a million reasons why I’m wrong and how screwed up I am for downplaying the countless amount of tragedy that has led up to this point. But if you ask me, God did this to show some poor souls out there, how beautiful life is. How beautiful humanity is. You don’t see that, do you? The old world and this one continue to reject you for who you are. They constantly push back on every one of your true desires. You were born this way, weren’t you?”

For a second, he seemed to consider my words. A mix of shame and contemplation across his face. If it weren’t for my vision which may have been the only part of my body that remained perfect throughout the years, I’d have never believed it, but he even shed a tear.

Unfortunately, this didn’t lead to the sentimental heart-to-heart that I envisioned. Lars began another charge. This one was different from the previous two. It didn’t seem to have a sense of rationality to it. The movement in his legs was jagged and his arms flailed in a way where he wouldn’t be able to hit me no matter how fast he was going. What was he doing?!