fandom_muses: Talk about losing control.
He didn’t remember much as he sat there, looking down at the thing he done...all Eko knew was that he never wanted to remember.
The man under him was so much meat, his face beaten beyond bloody, beyond disfiguration. The body was so far past the stage of mere mutilation that it had ceased to even be a ‘he,’ but simply an ‘it.’
Before, when the thing had been a man, his name had been Arid. He’d been teaching Eko how to box...and he wasn’t a bad man, compared to those that surrounded him at every turn now. Eko had gotten used to life among the other smugglers, a little too easily for his liking. Still, after four years it didn’t feel *right.*
Except for now.
Hesitantly, he rubbed his arm as he stared at the thing on the floor. When the thing had still been Arid, he’d been showing Eko a new combination to use next weekend, when he would enter his first boxing tournament. It was an informal affair...all the local boys entered it, and the prize was fifty dollars plus bragging rights. Eko was big, but he’d never learned how to fight for real. Arid had told him he needed to have skill as well as size...then he would be deadly.
Arid had yelled at him...had insulted Yemi.
”Fight hard and train well, little Mr. Eko...and one day you will be a far stronger man than that sniveling little runt you call a brother.”
Eko wasn’t sure where the rage had come from...only that as they began again, as Eko hit Arid and kept hitting him, he saw Yemi standing with that gun in his hands, and saw the men who put it there.
Eko saw those men as he hit Arid and enjoyed the scream when bone splintered and shattered. He enjoyed it as he saw the others breaking and splintering under his relentless fists.
As he sat there, still straddling the thing’s chest, he remembered Arid’s explanation about bare knuckles boxing...how real men didn’t need gloves, not when they needed to prove their mettle. Was this proving his mettle? Sitting here now with the thing that used to be Arid under him, blood covering his taped hands and the spot on his arm where he’d rubbed it?
Was killing what it was to be prove he was a man? Or was it the rage, the total loss of control, of regard for any life his hands might take?
“Eko!”
He looked up slowly, several years or moments later to see another of his comrades, grinning openly as he watched Eko straddling the thing that had once been a living man.
The other man laughed, a sound that made him want to cringe. “Little brother! Looks like you will do us proud yet!”
Eko simply stared...and hoped that the other man was wrong.
Muse: Mr. Eko
Fandom: LOST
Words: 488
The man under him was so much meat, his face beaten beyond bloody, beyond disfiguration. The body was so far past the stage of mere mutilation that it had ceased to even be a ‘he,’ but simply an ‘it.’
Before, when the thing had been a man, his name had been Arid. He’d been teaching Eko how to box...and he wasn’t a bad man, compared to those that surrounded him at every turn now. Eko had gotten used to life among the other smugglers, a little too easily for his liking. Still, after four years it didn’t feel *right.*
Except for now.
Hesitantly, he rubbed his arm as he stared at the thing on the floor. When the thing had still been Arid, he’d been showing Eko a new combination to use next weekend, when he would enter his first boxing tournament. It was an informal affair...all the local boys entered it, and the prize was fifty dollars plus bragging rights. Eko was big, but he’d never learned how to fight for real. Arid had told him he needed to have skill as well as size...then he would be deadly.
Arid had yelled at him...had insulted Yemi.
”Fight hard and train well, little Mr. Eko...and one day you will be a far stronger man than that sniveling little runt you call a brother.”
Eko wasn’t sure where the rage had come from...only that as they began again, as Eko hit Arid and kept hitting him, he saw Yemi standing with that gun in his hands, and saw the men who put it there.
Eko saw those men as he hit Arid and enjoyed the scream when bone splintered and shattered. He enjoyed it as he saw the others breaking and splintering under his relentless fists.
As he sat there, still straddling the thing’s chest, he remembered Arid’s explanation about bare knuckles boxing...how real men didn’t need gloves, not when they needed to prove their mettle. Was this proving his mettle? Sitting here now with the thing that used to be Arid under him, blood covering his taped hands and the spot on his arm where he’d rubbed it?
Was killing what it was to be prove he was a man? Or was it the rage, the total loss of control, of regard for any life his hands might take?
“Eko!”
He looked up slowly, several years or moments later to see another of his comrades, grinning openly as he watched Eko straddling the thing that had once been a living man.
The other man laughed, a sound that made him want to cringe. “Little brother! Looks like you will do us proud yet!”
Eko simply stared...and hoped that the other man was wrong.
Muse: Mr. Eko
Fandom: LOST
Words: 488