wildbunchkali
Banned
- Joined
- Feb 1, 2005
- Messages
- 2
THINK ONCE STRIKE TWICE
It was a three quarter moon on the 8th of June some time in the 20th century in a city not far from home. The neon signs fought the moon light for shadows to hide in as I walked alone swaggering to the rhythm of the night life I had just stepped out of. I found my self some what miss guided by my own memories and the spirits still on my breath. Seeking my transportation I had parked so carefully only 5 hours early. I slumbered down streets and allies avoiding the dark abyss trying to make it to my hotel before the police came out on DUI patrol. I have always been safety conscious and have watched my surroundings for the would be villain. On this night I failed my self and humanity. I make a right turn down the wrong alley, and life for me changed as I had known it. About 50 feet into the ally, two men stepped out from behind a dumpster. One had long strait hair past his shoulders, the other had short curly red hair and looked like he just stepped off the boat from Ireland. Both men were white and taller than I. The long-haired one asked for a cigarette as he closed the distance on me. The red head asked what time it was as he circled to my left as too look at my wrist watch. I told them I had no cigarettes even though I was smoking one at the time. Then they both asked me for money so they could buy themselves a pack of cigarettes. I said I have no money I spent it all in the bars on the strip. They asked for money again, this time to buy beer with. I told them the bars are closing and it is too late to buy it from a store. You don't understand dude said the long hair, give me your wallet. At that moment I hoped that all the years that I had trained in the martial arts would save my life. Before I knew what had happened my right foot snapped foreword with a kick to long hairs left knee. Then I threw an elbow to Reds face. I felt his cheek bone shatter, my elbow numb from the blow. I took a step and grabbed the other by his long hair and repeatedly applied his face to my left elbow then to my right elbow. At about that same time Red hit me in the back of the head with a bottle of some kind, thank the heavens above it did not break. I am forced to the ground on my back as Red mounts me and keeps hitting me with the bottle in the face, arms and hands as I try my best to defend what brains I still have left. Then I feel long hair kick and stomp my feet , then he comes up top and tries to put his boots in my mouth and ear a half dozen times each. He even manages to insert his boot in Reds neck a few times when I pull Red down tight, to bite his ear off. Then I remembered I have a pocket knife in my right front pocket, a SPYDERCO -DELICA with a 2 and 3/4 inch blade. Although I have never carried a knife for self defense. I have spent many hours in martial arts class learning how to use a knife in a defensive manner. I have always believed a good martial artist never needs to pull a blade or a weapon. The martial arts teaches one to be prepared and to always be aware of your surroundings.
IT is the 9th of June some time in the 21st century in a city called home. I am a survivor! I still smoke cigarettes! I still walk alone! I need no scabbard for my blade, for my enemys body sheathes my dagger. JRS.
Author: JR Schneider
It was a three quarter moon on the 8th of June some time in the 20th century in a city not far from home. The neon signs fought the moon light for shadows to hide in as I walked alone swaggering to the rhythm of the night life I had just stepped out of. I found my self some what miss guided by my own memories and the spirits still on my breath. Seeking my transportation I had parked so carefully only 5 hours early. I slumbered down streets and allies avoiding the dark abyss trying to make it to my hotel before the police came out on DUI patrol. I have always been safety conscious and have watched my surroundings for the would be villain. On this night I failed my self and humanity. I make a right turn down the wrong alley, and life for me changed as I had known it. About 50 feet into the ally, two men stepped out from behind a dumpster. One had long strait hair past his shoulders, the other had short curly red hair and looked like he just stepped off the boat from Ireland. Both men were white and taller than I. The long-haired one asked for a cigarette as he closed the distance on me. The red head asked what time it was as he circled to my left as too look at my wrist watch. I told them I had no cigarettes even though I was smoking one at the time. Then they both asked me for money so they could buy themselves a pack of cigarettes. I said I have no money I spent it all in the bars on the strip. They asked for money again, this time to buy beer with. I told them the bars are closing and it is too late to buy it from a store. You don't understand dude said the long hair, give me your wallet. At that moment I hoped that all the years that I had trained in the martial arts would save my life. Before I knew what had happened my right foot snapped foreword with a kick to long hairs left knee. Then I threw an elbow to Reds face. I felt his cheek bone shatter, my elbow numb from the blow. I took a step and grabbed the other by his long hair and repeatedly applied his face to my left elbow then to my right elbow. At about that same time Red hit me in the back of the head with a bottle of some kind, thank the heavens above it did not break. I am forced to the ground on my back as Red mounts me and keeps hitting me with the bottle in the face, arms and hands as I try my best to defend what brains I still have left. Then I feel long hair kick and stomp my feet , then he comes up top and tries to put his boots in my mouth and ear a half dozen times each. He even manages to insert his boot in Reds neck a few times when I pull Red down tight, to bite his ear off. Then I remembered I have a pocket knife in my right front pocket, a SPYDERCO -DELICA with a 2 and 3/4 inch blade. Although I have never carried a knife for self defense. I have spent many hours in martial arts class learning how to use a knife in a defensive manner. I have always believed a good martial artist never needs to pull a blade or a weapon. The martial arts teaches one to be prepared and to always be aware of your surroundings.
IT is the 9th of June some time in the 21st century in a city called home. I am a survivor! I still smoke cigarettes! I still walk alone! I need no scabbard for my blade, for my enemys body sheathes my dagger. JRS.
Author: JR Schneider
