This story is part of an ongoing series.
The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman's biography.
Feedback and
constructive
criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.
Special note: all characters engaged in sex acts are at least 18 years old.
Part 12 - Soul of Iron - The Final Final
The music of Darude's
Sandstorm
began softly, then got louder and louder as the gymnasium full of Police Officers and a few others began jumping up and down, waving red, white, and blue ribbons or cloths. The energy in the room was tremendous, and I could feel it flowing right right through my very soul.
This was it. The Police Boxing Matches (Freestyle Division) Championship. It was 10:00am, Saturday, June 2d, and the TCPD Headquarters gymnasium was full of Police Officers and a number of others that were ready to watch the very last Police Boxing Matches battle allowing the use of crowbars.
As the beat of the music pumped energy throughout the room, to my surprise I noticed Chief Moynahan walk up a staircase made of planks and plywood that brought him to the level of the ring. He stepped into the ring with the match's referee, Lt. Micah Rudistan, who was wearing white plastic with yellow and black stripes, and holding a white football helmet. Chief Moynahan had a microphone in his hand.
"Bee-forrre we begin..." he called out. The cheering stopped and the music died down. "Before we begin this Finals match," called out the Chief, "we have a very special award to give out. Would Commander Troy please come into the ring?"
There was a cheer as I walked up the temporary steps to ring level and eased between the ropes, not having a clue what this was about. Chief Griswold's mustaches had been twitching with merriment all morning long, so I knew something was up. Time to find out what, I guess.
"As you all know," said Rudistan jovially, taking over the microphone, "Commander Troy was going to compete in these Matches and kick every one of our butts... but instead, he took one for the Team and re-injured his back while beating the crap out of the Slender Man and rescuing several children." A roar of approval burst out. I remained stoic, still feeling the pain of being unable to compete by order of the Town & County Police Chief.
"So, to award Commander Troy for his actions on behalf of our children and our Town & County," Rudistan continued, "we are presenting him with this very special trophy!"
With that, a cloth covered object was put on the floor of the ring, and Chief Moynahan picked it up. Bringing it to us in the center of the ring, he handed it to me. Damn, it was heavy! I thought as I took it. It was a statue of some kind. The Chief whisked off the cloth, leaving me holding a bronze statue about a foot high, maybe a little more with the trapezoid-cube base.
"This is the Official, one-of-a-kind 'I Beat Slender Man' trophy, awarded to Commander Troy for showing the Slender Man what a true Boxing Matches beatdown feels like!" Rudistan explained. Another roar burst out from the crowd as I examined the trophy.
It was molded into the likeness of The Slender Man, wearing a suit and tie, standing with his feet slightly apart... and holding a crowbar at 'port arms' across his chest beneath that featureless head. Into the base of the statue had been engraved the words "I BEAT" and underneath them, the words "SLENDER MAN".
The Heisman Trophy weights 25 pounds, and the 'I Beat Slender Man' statue weighed darn near that. Whoever had paid for this had paid some serious money, too. I held it up for all to see, and the crowd amped up its roars of approval.
No, it was not the Police Boxing Matches trophy, but it would have to do. It would also generate an acclaim and following on Twitter and 'the Facebook' amongst those who followed the Slender Man legend, and on Cindy's 'Meet Commander Donald Troy' page on Youtube.
I'd mentioned that there was one last appearance of the Slender Man in my Town & County... and this was it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
There was a roar when the door to the mat room room on the side of the gym opened, and Your Iron Crowbar came out, leading the Defending Police Boxing Matches (Freestyle Division) Champion through a narrow path in the sea of humanity to the elevated boxing ring in the center of the gymnasium.
Sandstorm
was playing again, and the cheers got louder and louder as we approached the ring, as if this were a University of South Carolina SEC football game.
Teresa was in her white plastic armor, trimmed with red, and her red football helmet with plastic face shielding. I was wearing my red collared shirt with embroidered TCPD badge, khaki pants... and no crowbar. The red crowbar was in the possession of my Clan Crowbar acolyte.
Like the year before, I had gone in and offered Teresa the red crowbar. She had tried to refuse it, saying she did not want to dishonor it if she lost. She knew she'd come too close to losing a couple of times already, and she'd barely continued the tradition of a past Champion not being defeated before the Final round.
I insisted she take it. "Win or lose, you will honor the Clan of the Crowbar by giving everything you have in fighting with it. I would be honored if you would use it in my stead in this match." Teresa said the correct words of thanks, and accepted the red crowbar as her weapon for the match.
Once we got to the ring, Teresa went up and in. Everyone turned to the far side of the gym, and another roar went up as the Challenger emerged from the locker room, wearing white plastic trimmed with blue, a blue helmet with face shielding, and of course carrying a crowbar. The gymnasium was vibrating, and then everything stopped cold: the music stopped, the cheering died down into silence as the challenge was issued:
"Would you like a shot... at the title?" called out the defending Champion, Captain Teresa Croyle.
"Don't mind if I do!" replied the Challenger... Commander Cindy Ross.
Yes, Cindy had barely defeated Jerome Davis in the spirited semifinal match. He had trained with me, and he had been an outstanding student. Even with the limited training I had given him, his acumen and 'never quit' spirit had almost won the day. But he had stumbled near the end, and that was too much when the Green Crowbar was on the hunt. She took him down with seconds to spare, and afterwards had words of high praise for him, knowing she'd been in a real battle. Meanwhile, I wistfully thought of what I would've been able to do had the Chief allowed me to compete, bad back notwithstanding.
I had reminded Cindy later in the week that no Commander had ever lost in the Police Boxing Matches Final. Of course, there had only been one recorded instance of a Commander being in a Finals match at all, and Cindy did not need to be reminded who it was that had taken her down on that day. I also don't think I can print in this family environment the 'Canadian' words she might have used in reply to my reminder...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *