THE MISFIT: CHAPTER FIVE Logan stood on his porch and waved as he watched the green Cadillac containing his grandparents drive off. “They’re finally gone,” Logan said to himself. Even though they were family Logan absolutely couldn’t stand to be around them. They lived in Seattle and therefore had never lived very close to Logan. So he had never really gotten to know them. To Logan being around his grandparents was like being around a pair of total strangers. Add to that the facts that they were old, annoying, and couldn’t keep their mouths shut for more than ten seconds and they were truly unbearable. The tall, muscular, spiky haired boy watched until the car had completely disappeared. Logan was about six feet, two inches tall now and very well conditioned. He had huge, bulging arms and a wide, ripped chest. His abs were neatly cut into six separate sections and his shoulders looked as if they had been chiseled from ice. In all he had a body that some body builders would kill for. Despite his huge amount of muscle mass he still had perfect flexibility, giving him the perfect body for a fighter. The martial arts training had surely helped, but for the most part it had just come naturally. Logan was definitely way above most other athletes his age. Logan stood for a few more minutes, contemplating his life before finally going back into the large household. Logan, feeling a little stressed over the day’s events, trudged slowly up the long, broad staircase to the upstairs. Upon arrival at the top Logan turned weakly to his left and walked down the short, narrow hall to his bedroom. Logan walked over to his bed and heavily flopped down on his knees. He then reached under the bed frame with one long, muscular arm and pulled back a large, blue gym bag. Logan slowly climbed back to his feet, rising to his full height. With a sigh he sat his muscular frame on his bed and opened the bag. He reached a hand inside and checked the contents. “Yup,” he confirmed to himself. “Everything’s in here,” Everything except his uniform, which he had put in the washing machine earlier. Logan arose once more and started toward the door, but stopped to glance at the clock by his bed. The large, red, digital numbers read 5:30. Logan had a half hour before Eddie was due to arrive. With some extra time at hand the young martial artist walked down the hallway to the large television room, which he used for a workout room despite the fact that he hardly ever worked out. Today though, he did feel like working out. Logan arrived in the room and immediately spotted what had over the years become his greatest enemy, next to a science test. “Well well,” he said in a low, demonic sounding voice. “We meet again. This time you die,” he said as he started to walk toward the large, red cylinder that hung from his ceiling. Logan looked his punching bag over for a few moments. It had been the toughest opponent he’d ever had, other than Eddie. By now it was faded to an almost pink color with pieces of duct tape here and there to cover the places where it had given up. Logan soon decided that he had given the bag all the recognition it deserved and with that begun firing stiff left and right hand punches into its leathery skin. Logan steadily increased his power until the bag began folding over at the top and the ceiling was shaking from the recoil of the bag. For fear that he would knock the bag down from the ceiling, which he had done a few times, Logan decided to give the bag a rest. “You’re nothin’,” he said aloud. Logan stood for a few moments, once again staring down the bag. “It’s pretty hot in here,” he thought to himself. At that he pulled his black Metallica t-shirt up from his torso and past his long, spiky hair until it was completely off revealing an extremely defined body and a brown, fury tail that was wrapped around his waist. “Okay,” he said speaking to the bag again, “let’s go,” Logan once again started firing away at the bag, but this time added in kicking combinations to further devastate his Everlast labeled foe. He went on for what seemed like hours before finally giving up. “The bag isn’t much of a fight today,” Logan concluded. With boredom quickly draining his will Logan snatched his shirt from the ground and put it back on as he walked back to his bedroom. Logan looked at the clock once again. He still had fifteen minutes left. The tailed warrior stepped out from the doorway and walked past his bed to the large window that overlooked the small town that he had lived in for the last five years. He sat down on the red, velvet, padded seat in front of the window and stared out over the countryside as he had done many times over the recent years. As he stared out his glass portal to the outside Logan felt an anxiousness building in his stomach. It was the infamous feeling that Logan seemingly couldn’t escape. As it built itself up Logan realized it hadn’t really gone away since he ran off stage earlier in the day. It had simply been masked by a string of distractions. The sickening feeling built itself up to full force in the pit of Logan’s stomach. For some unknown reason a tear began to form in Logan’s left eye until he realized what was happening. “You’re weak,” he told himself as he wiped the small drop of water from his eye. “Weak,” Despite his actions the feeling still kept increasing its intensity. The young warrior looked away from the window as if it were causing his pain. “Why,” he whispered in a low, sad voice. “Why can’t I just be happy?” he questioned raising his voice a little. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?” he screamed switching mentalities. Instead of becoming depressed and acting almost as if he were afraid of the feeling that plagued him, Logan started to become angry at it like he had done earlier in the day. Logan quickened his breathing as he began to build anger in place of despair. He continued to increase the pace of his breathing as he began to tighten his muscles and focus all of his energy deep inside the core of his being until he just couldn’t take it anymore. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” he screamed as he forced all of his pinned up emotion out in a violent rage. Logan could have sworn he felt a slight wind pick up as he released the energy from his body. With the wind he felt almost like he had been set on fire, but soon Logan stopped as he had released all the energy he had in him. Tired and out of breath Logan fell to the floor with a loud thud. He soon climbed to his hands and knees, but no further. Logan looked around the room wondering where the wind that he thought he had felt came from. But with no light objects in the room he had no evidence to prove his theory true. He slowly climbed to his knees and eventually back to his feet. Logan’s legs felt a little wobbly, but would probably be back in time for his Tae Kwon Do class. He checked the clock once again. Ten minutes left. “I had better go get into uniform,” Logan told himself. To keep his tail a secret Logan had always gone to class already in uniform instead of changing into it in the dressing room where every one could see him. Before stepping out of the room Logan looked himself over for no particular reason. “What the Hell,” he murmured in shock at what he saw. His clothes, which had previously been in perfect condition, were now singed and tattered with tiny holes burnt throughout them. “How the hell did this happen?” he questioned still in disbelief. Despite his shock Logan knew that Eddie would be arriving soon and with all those holes mysteriously burnt into his clothes his tail was left in plain view. Logan sat on his bed and tugged off his boots, which had been left undamaged, as quickly as he could to see that his socks were also still in tact. The tall boy stood up and quickly dropped his torn pants to reveal that his boxer shorts had also survived. Logan then disposed of his shirt and ran to the downstairs part of the house. Once there he ran through the living room and down a small hallway to a laundry room on the left. Logan opened the door to the dryer and snatched his uniform from the inside. He quickly put it on and then checked himself over to make sure everything looked right, and it did. The uniform was all white except for a black seem that outlined the top to show that he had achieved the rank of black belt. Logan calmly walked back to his bedroom and took his belt from the blue gym bag that was still lying on his bed. The belt was all black (of coarse) except for three white stripes at one end signifying that he was a third-degree black belt. At the other end, in gold letters, was the Korean writing of his name. For now he didn’t put it on. It wasn’t proper Tae Kwon Do etiquette to do so when outside of the training hall. Instead he folded it exactly in the middle so that both ends hung down evenly, and placed it around his neck. Logan sat down on his bed with a sigh of exhaustion. He was still confused about exactly what had destroyed his clothes. And why was he suddenly so worn out? His thoughts were cut short though as he heard the front door to his house open. “Hey Logan,” came a familiar voice from downstairs. It was Eddie. “You ready to go yet?” he continued yelling not knowing exactly where his friend was. “Yeah, I’m ready,” Logan yelled back in response. “Just give me a minute. I need to put on my boots,” Logan quickly slid the boots on with no trouble. Over the years he had been forced to buy new boots due to wear and tare, and growing feet. This particular pair had zippers on the sides so that after you laced the boots, you could just use the zipper to put them on or take them off. With both boots comfortably on his feet, Logan grabbed his gym bag and walked out of his bedroom. When he got to the staircase he noticed Eddie waiting patiently at the bottom. Eddie was a few inches shorter than Logan and also in great shape, but not quite as bulky as Logan. Today he was wearing a blue American Eagle t-shirt with white lettering on it. He had on carpenter’s style blue jeans and black, stylish boots. His hair was gelled into spikes that stood a few inches off his head. “Hey man,” Logan greeted his friend. “Do we need our sparring gear tonight?” “Uh…No, I don’t think so” Eddie responded. “I know we’re not sparring in black belt class, and you know we don’t need our pads to spar with the lower ranks,” he reasoned. “Okay,” Logan said as he turned and threw his bag back into his bedroom. Seeing that the bag had landed safely on its mark he walked slowly and clumsily down the stairs. His legs still felt weak, as did the rest of his body, and he was sweating profusely. “Are you okay man?” Eddie asked noticing his friend’s obvious weakness. “Yeah, I’m good. I just wanted a little pre class warm up. That’s all,” He said to reassure his friend. “It looks like you got one,” Eddie said showing his skill for noticing the obvious. “So are you ready to go yet?” he asked. “Just let me get a drink of water before we go,” Logan said slightly out of breath. “Well hurry up man. We don’t want to be late for class,” Eddie pleaded. “We won’t be late,” Logan said before turning and walking to the kitchen. Once he was in the kitchen he went to the cupboard above the stove and fetched a glass from it. He then filled the glass in the sink, gulped down the contents, and placed the empty glass in the sink. As Logan left the kitchen he began to get a nostalgic feeling, like this would be the last time he would see the kitchen, or any other part of the house for a long time. “That’s crazy,” Logan said to himself shaking it off. Now content with himself Logan walked out of the kitchen and back to the bottom of the stairway where Eddie was still waiting. “Alright, I’m ready now,” Logan said as he turned to walk to the front door. Eddie followed suit and they both walked to Eddie’s red, 1970, Oldsmobile Cutlass. The car was Eddie’s absolute pride and joy. Eddie’s brother, who had made a career for himself in autobody, had painted it. And Eddie’s father rebuilt the 350 cubic inch engine himself as soon as he bought the car for his younger son. The two boys got into the car with Logan as the passenger and Eddie as the driver. Eddie carefully turned his beauty of a car around and began to drive down the long driveway in front of Logan’s house. “Hey man,” Eddie started. “I made up some lyrics last night. They’re pretty cool,” he said. “Cool,” Logan said showing only moderate interest. “Why don’t you sing them for me,” “Okay,” Eddie answered and then began to sing his song. Logan didn’t pay much attention though. Instead he began to daydream about Miami. He reminisced about the city he had loved so much. He remembered the beach, the girls, the fights and began to wonder what it was going to be like to have Eddie there with him this time. “So what do you think?” Eddie asked after he had finished the song. “Not bad,” Logan answered. He had paid enough attention for the statement to have some truth to it. “I was thinking that when we got back you could write some guitars for it,” Eddie said. “Yeah, no problem,” Logan responded. “It won’t be that hard. Then we can get Alex to write the bass line, Steve can do some drums real quick and we can try it out at our next gig,” Logan said showing a little more interest in the matter now. “What about Matt?” Eddie asked. Matt was their rhythm guitarist. Logan played the lead. “Matt won’t be much help,” Logan answered. “I’m the one that does all the work on guitar. “All we need him for is to play gigs,” “True,” Eddie agreed. * * * * * * The pair arrived at the small firehouse a few minutes later. Eddie parked beside the building and they both got out of the car. The two walked to the front door and entered into the lobby. The lobby had white walls, with red carpeting, and white lawn chairs for seating. On the far wall was a small window that allowed the people in the lobby to view what was happening in the training hall. Beside the window was a red, wooden door that led to the training hall. To the right of the entrance, atop two small steps, was another red door that led to the Instructor’s office. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s here,” Logan observed. Usually Mr. Siders left the door open so that he wouldn’t miss anyone, or more accurately, a chance to yap his head off. Just then the door opened and a big, baldhead popped out. “Hey Eddie,” Mr. Siders said from the doorway. “I was just putting on my uniform. You’re a little early,” “Hello sir,” Logan and Eddie said simultaneously while giving their instructor a bow of respect. “Hello Logan,” the bald man said with a look of disappointment on his face. “He’s acting a little weird today,” Logan thought to himself. The bald man was usually ecstatic to see Logan. “You guys go ahead and change. I’ll be out soon,” the he said before disappearing back into his office. At that both boys stripped of their shoes and stepped through the door into the training hall, stopping to bow in the doorway before they entered as demanded by protocol. The training hall looked for the most part like the lobby, but bigger and without the lawn chairs. At the far end hung a big punching bag much like Logan’s but black instead of red. Behind the bag stood a half wall, with the left side being there and the right side opening into a short hallway. Eddie and Logan walked side by side until they reached the hallway, at which point they both turned around and bowed. Like before this was required by Tae Kwon Do protocol. They continued walking until the hallway opened into a large, tiled room. In the room sat some old training gear that had given out long before Eddie or Logan had started their training. Also in the room sat a white, plastic table that somewhat resembled the chairs in the lobby in it’s design. In the back wall stood three doors. The middle one led to a restroom and the other two were closets. On the left, just before the hallway ended, were two sliding doors with about three feet of space separating them. The first door led into the girl’s dressing room, despite the fact that no girls currently took part in the class. The second door was the entrance to the boy’s dressing room, which was where Eddie and Logan where going. Eddie slid the door open with Logan following behind. Logan shut the door and set his boots down by the right side wall. He then took off his socks and stuffed them inside his boots. Logan looked across the room where Eddie was standing to see that he had done the same and was now starting to change into his uniform. “Why do you always come to class already in uniform?” Eddie asked curiously. “Everyone can see it through your uniform. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said. “What are you talking about?” Logan asked worried that the secret of his tail had been revealed. “Your body dude,” Eddie answered. “You’re totally buffed. So why are you so afraid to let people see you with your shirt off?” Eddie asked continuing his interrogation. Seeing that his secret was safe Logan breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t want to make the rest of you feel bad,” Logan joked. Eddie was right though. Logan was a lot better conditioned than most other people. Eddie was in great shape too. He was surely above most other high school athletes, but he was still nowhere near Logan’s level. “I gotta take a piss,” Logan announced before leaving the dressing room. Logan walked to the tiled room at the end of the hallway and then went into the restroom. He then took position in front of the toilet, untied the string on his pants, and did his business. After he finished he retied his pants, flushed the toilet, and left the room. Feeling relieved Logan went back to the dressing room to see Eddie fully dressed in his uniform, which was exactly the same as Logan’s except Eddie’s belt only had two stripes on it. “I think I’d better use the bathroom too,” Eddie said and then walked out of the dressing room. With Eddie absent Logan tied his belt around his waist and likewise left the dressing room. Now fully dressed for class Logan walked back down the hallway to the training hall, once again bowing before he entered. When Logan arose from his low bow he noticed a strange man standing in the middle of the room. The man was about six feet tall with long hair that stuck up off his head much like Logan’s did, except his worked it’s way into one big spike at the top. But he did have the sharp, spike like bangs that Logan had. He was dressed in an orange martial arts uniform with no sleeves and a black t-shirt underneath. The strange man had massive arms that made Logan’s look like toothpicks, but they didn’t appear to hinder his movement. It was easy to see that the man had been trained well. He had black athletic tape wrapped around his palms and up his forearms, stopping about three of four inches before his elbows. On his feet were black combat boots that were almost exactly like Logan’s but without the zippers on the sides. Tucked into the boots were the bottoms of the man’s pant legs. Wrapped around the man’s waist was a black belt much like Logan’s but with ten stripes. With the orange uniform, the tape around his forearms, and having boots on in the training hall it was clear that he wasn’t from around there. He was breaking at least three of the rules set for appearance in the training hall. But with his high rank Logan wasn’t about to say anything. Logan’s instructor was only a fourth degree black belt and he was considered high ranking. Instead Logan gave the man a deep bow of respect in hopes of getting on the man’s good side. “Hello sir,” Logan said to the man. “May I ask who you are?” “I’m a friend of your instructor,” the man answered in a deep, cold voice. “Who are you?” he asked in response. “I’m Logan Hall, one of Mr. Siders’ students,” Logan answered. “Nice to meet you Logan,” the man said, not at all trying to make it sound like he meant it. “Ah, there he is,” the man said walking to the back of the training hall where Eddie was entering the room. “Hello sir,” Eddie said giving the man a bow just as Logan had. “Hello Eddie,” the man said just before snapping out his right hand and knocking Eddie unconscious. Logan was shocked, but only one response came to mind. “You bastard!” Logan yelled as he ran toward the man with incredible speed. “Aaaaahhhhhh!” he screamed as he leapt into the air and extended his right leg in an attempt to hit his friend’s attacker. The attempt failed as the man sidestepped the attack and let Logan go sailing past him. Seeing that his first attack had failed Logan quickly swung around and threw a devastating right handed back fist that connected hard with the man’s face. Logan then drew back his fist and stepped into a fighting stance, ready to finish the battle. The force of the attack had snapped the man’s head around and caused him to take a small step back, but otherwise caused no damage. The man corrected his posture and wiped his mouth to check for blood. There was none. With that he made a quick snap of his waist. Logan saw a quick blur come at him, and then everything went black.