Love Stories 3: Red vs Blue
A friend challenged me to write a story a day for seven days, on love. I’m going to post one a day.
“I’ll fucking kill you” he screamed, slamming his fist into Blue’s sternum.
“Yeah yeah,” taunted Blue, blinking a little, “you and whose army?”
Blue danced around Red, keeping just out of reach, shuffling his feet back and forth mockingly.
“So much talk,” taunted Blue “for such an old man. Perhaps you’d like a wee nap instead?”
Red darted forward with surprising speed and ferocity.
Peppering Blue’s stomach and ribs with blows, each massive hit shaking the ring and emphasising a new word.
“She’s. My. Wife. You. Fucker.”
Blue stumbled backwards and doubled over, “What the hell” he gasped, “are you talking about?”
“I’ve seen you. Your car hidden in the alley when I’m late home from work. I’ve seen you jumping the back fence. You both think I’m so stupid, don’t you?”
Red’s spittle flew, joining the sweat already coating the mat between them.
“You think I don’t know what you two have been up to?” Red raged on, barely coherent.
With visible effort, Blue straightened and looked Red dead in the eye “You know nothing.”
“You always had to be the best, didn’t you?” cried Red. “Always the favourite. Everyone loved you. And now…” he choked, “now you’ve taken her away from me too?!”
Tears streaked Red’s face. He scraped futilely with the back of a glove. “You’ve taken her from me.. ” he mumbled, disbelievingly, “what else have I got? Nothing.”
He advanced on Blue once more “You’ve taken everything I love, you fucker.”
Blue quivered as Red rained ground shaking punches once more.
Blue blocked tightly, elbows tucked in, gloves covering his face. He felt a rib crack but couldn’t slow the onslaught.
“You’re my fucking brother” roared Red, “how could you do this to me?”
He swung a fearsome right hook, smashing Blue on the side of his skull. As Blue slumped backwards his guard dropped, just in time to catch a thundering upper cut to the chin.
Blue’s feet left the ground and he crumpled lifelessly to the mat in a heap.
“Your birthday” his voice bubbled out through blood and spit, “organising party… surprise” as he fell unconscious.
“Fuck,” thought Red, “my 40th. I’d completely forgotten.”
He looked down at his little brother.
“Fuck.”
