booktalesy Chapter 310: Monsters Hunters
Chapter 310: Monsters Hunters
Rain was an anomaly in the hard-nosed, over-muscled world of Breakball. To most, he was a shrimp, the King of Shrimp. Slight to the point of looking too young for his age, like a child thrown among the 2 meters monsters of the Under league.You could swear that a hard screen from someone like Jaz would put him in the hospital. His blue eyes were dull and unblinking, void of any ego. That was his edge. He had no presence to speak of, and in three flat seconds a defender would have you on his mind and then be done with it.
Put a ball in his hands, though, and the King of Shrimps was gone, replaced by a passing machine. Rain had a supernatural feeling for where things were going. He could make a blind pass that arced like a taut wire and put it through the heart of a defense before anyone knew what hit them. It was all about misdirection and speed of execution.
Then there was Blaze "The Tiger" Griffin. Don’t let the 6’3" frame fool you into thinking he was some kind of heavy center. What he had was a volatile mix of first-step quickness and top-end velocity. With his short brown hair and the red in it like old scars, he put on a show of pure violence.
He could blow past a man and put the opposing pivot in the ground with a dunk, a heavy beast with the acceleration of a track star.
Morning in the Underground was as quiet as any other day, the air full of the metallic song of the lower levels. In a one-room place hemmed in by concrete, Rain’s alarm rang. The boy sat up, his expression as blank as the water-stained ceiling above him.
He moved with the same pattern as any other day, with his motto: economy of motion; out of bed, some stretches, a bowl of cold rice and egg, and into a well-worn black hoodie.
He was out the door and down the alley before the concierge even registered he was there.
He found Blaze a couple of blocks on, perched on a plastic crate by a rusted-out vending machine, a hunk of bread in one hand.
"Late," Blaze rumbled, heaving himself up. At his size, he put a lot of shadow on the pavement.
"Three minutes, at most, Blaze. You’re just not looking," came the even-toned reply. Rain was at his side in an instant.
Blaze sputtered, nearly going down with his crust, and let out a curse under his breath. Put alone, they were unique players on the timber, but put together, there you could see the machine.
Blaze was the spark, the one who wanted to put his shoulder through the wall. Rain was the steady hand, the one who could take in a tirade without so much as a twitch.
"Come on," Blaze said, dented a juice box in his fist. "We’ve got work to do. Tonight is the big night."
They made their way to the old gym the Falcons called home. Here, the rules of the streets were a bit turned around for once. Here was a pair of youngsters from the streets, all discipline and grit, getting ready to square off with the bad guys from the league.
Blacklist had just been formed that season, but they weren’t any opponents; they were the season’s invincibles, a whole lot of muscle and strategy, and the monster that stood over them.
When they pushed open the creaking doors of the gym, the usual Falcons vibe was already going.
John Hunter, the captain with the thin rectangular frames on his face, was at the basket and putting up three-pointers in a steady rhythm.
"Swish," he said, flatly. Put up another one. Clang. "Fuck!" The ball had to rattle the rim for him to let out a hiss.
On the other side of the bench, Shane Evans was making himself far too comfortable with a couple of the sub girls. He put on one of his overconfident, greasy smiles. "You know, my handle isn’t only for the hardwood. I can put you on to some of my moves later if you like..."
SMACK.
A stinging slap to the back of the head put an end to it, his glasses askew. Shane put a hand to his head and turned to see who had made contact: Alexia "Alex" Vidal.
She was a lot to be around. She had long, wavy blonde hair shifting with each movement. She was wearing a pink silk robe that was basically transparent, clearly showing the warm, amber tone of her skin and the intricate black lace of her underwear beneath.
As she crossed her arms and sighed, her heavy breasts swayed under the thin fabric, her nipples almost poking through the silk.
"Evans, if you spent as much time on your accuracy as you do trying to stare at the subs’ asses, we would already be playing in the Upperworld," Alexia remarked. She caught Sam King’s eye, giving him a lingering, playful look.
"Right, Sam? Or do you prefer the view too?"
Sam was in the middle of some crossovers and just let out a laugh.
"I’m not the one you want to talk to, Alex. I’ve got a ball to worry about."
Then Erica Vance, the young coach, came out to the middle of the floor. Her brown hair was pulled back into a strict, neat braid. She didn’t have her usual digital tablets today, and her gaze was tense, stopping the lingering jokes.
"Line up. Now," she said, and the whistle followed.
The room went quiet in a hurry. All the loose energy in the gym was put on hold as the team fell in.
"We have Blacklist to deal with tonight," Erica said, looking each of them in the eye. "They’re undefeated since opening night. And the one running the show is Nash."
Some of the regulars didn’t like the sound of that. The Falcons hadn’t run into them yet, so most of them didn’t know who they were facing.
"What’s the catch? Is he just another thug from the gutter?" John asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Aside from the Colossus, no one in this district keeps me up at night."
"No, John," Rain interrupted. His low, even voice was barely a whisper, yet it made everyone go completely still. "Nash isn’t just a physical threat. He reads the flow better than anyone I’ve seen. He moves like I’ve rarely seen people move... Infact... I’d say he’s a more dangerous playmaker than I am."
"Come on," Shane said, a little taken aback. "You’re telling me a hulk like him has better passing than the King of Shrimps? Give me a break."
Rain’s blue eyes were unyielding.
"He is what he is. Nash isn’t just a great player. He is the Beast among the monsters"
A deep silence followed, the team cringing slightly at Rain’s dark, dramatic expression.
The beast among the monsters? The fuck does that even mean?
Erica drew a slow breath to pull the team back from the edge of doubt. As she shifted, her pink silk robe slipped slightly off her shoulder, revealing a quick glimpse of a soft, creamy white curve.
"Rain is right," Erica said, pulling their focus back. "But Blacklist has a major weakness: everything flows through Nash. Their post players, Jaz and Alicia, are going to be a nightmare. Jaz is ultra-violent and aggressive in the paint, and Alicia’s outside shot has become lethal lately. But Nash is the real danger. If we isolate him, cut the veins and force him to play alone, we even the chances. To do that, we need a specific tactic. A perfect Anti-Blaze tactic."
The players were all silent, then woke up from their daze, their eyes shifting toward their own powerhouse, Blaze Griffin.
Erica slapped her hand over her face and let out a long, annoyed groan.
"Please, his name is Nash Blaze too. Dammit."
The tension in the room just snapped, replaced by loud, rowdy laughter.
"Yo, Griffin! Looks like you got a copyright issue tonight!" Shane yelled, laughing his ass off as he punched Griffin hard in the arm.
One of the substitute players chuckled, leaning back with a smug look.
"My ass is on the Blacklist pillar. Our Blaze is just a little cub compared to a fucking monster."
"Shut up!" Griffin snapped. He tightened his jaw, his face turning a bit red because he hated being teased. But then, a slow grin spread across his face. He clenched his fists. His eyes were burning with a sudden, violent hunger to get to that hoop.
Rain watched him, the corner of his mouth twitching a bit.
"You look pretty excited, Blaze."
"My blood is boiling, Rain," Blaze rumbled. "That guy... he is the exact kind of wall I have been waiting to surpass."