It was an abomination. It was a mistake. Born out of wedlock to a crack addict mother & abusive father it knew only the life it had lived since birth, a slave to his parents whom the abomination deemed nothing more than a gateway onto this earth. His ‘ parents ‘ seemed to agree with said testament as they often bicker over how the ‘ whore ‘ got pregnant when the ‘ devil ‘ was infertile, the woman often exclaiming her resentment toward his lack of memory that placed him at the scene of a gangrape that he provoke. “ Oh.. “ He typically retort as the memories burst through the mental dam crafted through alcohol. The vision of how he used his back than prostitute, now girlfriend as a party favor to his guests & her cries to stop becoming all too vivid as sweaty palms curled into fists. “ You think I want to remember that you stupid bitch?! “ Roar the beast who began his onslaught with a vicious left hook, then a right in a rinse and repeat motion.
A normal child would scream, cry, hell even try to stop the beating but not IT. It would only watch in awe as his mother remained conscious through sheer willpower, a smile forming at the lips of the child who found satisfaction in the whores beating.. That is until the father turned his attention to a more able bodied victim. “ And then there's you, the goddamn mute of the household. If it wasn’t for the fact that you eat up half my sh*t I’d have thought you a Ghost! “ A common epithet when used to describe the adolescent, at the very least better than ‘ sh*t ‘. “ Only good thing about you is you remind me of a younger version of the whore.. I know, wanna play? “ It hated playtime. In fact it couldn’t fathom how any other child could endure playtime either & yet it’s father assured him that ‘ playing’ was a common occurrence in the outside world.
Crimson orbs fixate upon the fattened digits that fumble with the belts buckle as the darkened rings under the child’s eyes were emphasized by the lighting of the one bedroom apartment. “ Now go on into the room so we don’t bother your mother, she’s sleeping. “ One last glance toward the now unconscious woman & he could confirm this statement as blood trickle down her nose onto her busted lip. Her true visage was as such after all the child couldn’t recall a time when she didn’t have bruises on her face.. Alas, he was biding time, discouraged by what was to come as tiny feet dragged along the carpet floor. “ Now that’s a good boy. “ Once inside the room his father would follow suit, intrigued by the thought of releasing all the pent up aggression that once more built up as the last image that etched into Ghost’s mind was the door slamming.. A metaphor perhaps for his inability to escape.
Two years had passed since then & the boy had grown accustomed to it all. The beatings, malnourishment & even the ‘ playtimes ‘ which he came to understand was a form of rape, if not rape itself. Still, they sheltered him, gave him ( some ) food & a place to bathe which had to account for something.. Right? He tend to delusion himself with scenarios that depict his parents as law abiding citizens, yearning to make their child a better person through the trials & tribulations they put him through. Sadly even the voices in his head couldn’t conjure up an excuse as to why they did the things they did & it wasn’t until his mother grew sick of one to many beatings that the day came when he was freed. “ You stupid f***, I ruined my life for you! “ The anorexic looking woman yell, a gun cocked in her hand as she waved it in the devils face. “ Now what’s a dumb bitch like you going to do with that? Bet you don’t even know how to take that sh*t off safety. “ A foolish remark which he would pay for as a bullet collide with his leg, sending him crashing to the floor, arms reaching for anything to soften the fall as he took a chair down with him.
“ Oh yes just like that! Scream like the bitch you’re! “
The father snarled through grit teeth as saliva seep down his lips, blood being held back by the palms of his hands as he apply pressure to the wound. All the while the boy dubbed Ghost sat in front of the teli, completely absorbed in an episode of Sesame Street, as if something like this was normal to him or even bound to happen someday. “ Look here you dumb bitch.. “ Bang! Another shot, this time to his shoulder as the woman roared. “ Call me a bitch one more time! “ .. The father cried in pain, clutching his arm as he leaned against the wall, aquatic hues gleaming as tears strut down flushed cheeks. “ Bitch. “ She was baffled by his determination yet met it with her own as one bullet to the chest ended the onslaught that was the devil. “ It’s over.. It's all over Ghost.. “ Only now did she address the boy who had still focused his attention to the tv, unbeknownst to him that his father had just been murdered.
“ Now sweetie I know your thinking the cops might come, save you even but I think you’re old enough to realize where we are.. I know we never let you go outside but surely you’ve heard the term outcasts? Something abandoned by society? Regardless that’s what we are and honestly I don’t see how you’ll survive out their on your own.. So as a mother’s responsibility I’ll relinquish you of the burden that is life. “
With eyes still glued to the television the child’s mother would place the barrel of the gun against the back of its head, a large gust of air being sucked into her chapped lips as she placed a fidgeting finger alongside the trigger. “ I never loved you.. “ What a peculiar set of last words he thought as the sound of gun shot off, blood splattering against the television as the boy sat in awe. “ … “ Still choosing not to speak as he finally turned to face the unlikely scenario before him. “ Wha…what? “ A single bullet hole had festered its way into his mother’s chest as a result of his father who made his last stand. A smirk plastered across the devil’s face as it seemed to be the last action he would take.. “ Well f***. “ Just like that his mother collapsed, leaving the fifteen year old to stand over her husk with a smile on his face. “ Two birds with one stone.. I get it now. “ Laughter erupt from the boys core as tears stream down his face & snot down his nose.. What was this mixture of feelings he felt? Happiness? Sadness? Anger? He couldn’t place a finger on it. He just knew he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.
Lot’s of things had changed since then, for starters he no longer was the same boy hellbent on standing idly by as time progress. In fact after being succumbed to the ‘ kindness ‘ that was his parents love he was more than ready to be welcomed with open arms by the world of the inside. A region with no rules and full to the brim with all kinds of vices including, but not limited to, drugs, violence and prostitution. After effectively abandoning the area in 19XX, the American government refer to it exclusively as the "Illegally Occupied Territories", and put out propaganda saying that it is filled with a noxious gas where no-one can survive, in order to disguise the truth and avoid mass panic.
It is known for being a harsh kill-or-be-killed environment, full of dilapidated buildings, brothels, and drug dealers, and even the Mafia shy away from it. The people who were unfortunate enough to live there have to fight on a daily basis just to survive, and often have no education, no papers, and sometimes not even a name. This made it very hard for people from the Inside to leave and integrate into normal lawful society which is exactly why he would go against the odds, and do just that. After all without papers he could technically be anyone he want. Thing is it just so happened to be the quickest way to gain a title as annoying as ‘ Vigilante ‘ down in these parts.. See during the time it took him to become legal he worked for an association that paid his means as long as he fought in the arena. Of course that's what it was referred to but in actuality he knew it was something more, still, all that mattered to his boss was that he kept winning fights. Ghost’s innate talent for combat manifested itself around the time his parents died, his true potential to live in a world with no law becoming quickly apparent as with each fight for survival he grew stronger & before he knew it had become a force to be reckoned with. A boogeyman no less.
Didn’t take long for unofficial heads of the Inside to coax him into working for them in the arena, training him officially with mentors from around the world in order to create the perfect monster. If only they knew this ‘ chips all in ‘ investment would bite the hand that feeds him in order to live his own life. The newest page of his book starting the same time he witnessed a rape occurring, something normal in this place and honestly he felt if someone didn’t want to be raped they’d stop it. Of course his bias toward this stemmed from his childhood of playtimes and his inability to protect himself as a child, something he wouldn't admit nor acknowledge just yet. “ None of my business.. “ He recall thinking as he walked on by, stopped by the fact the rapist was accompanied by friends & chose to get greedy. “ Hey, you their! Give us your money! “ Money? If he learned anything here it was that no one ever had any money so this meant they really just wanted his clothes. “ Look fellas I could care less about what your doing but just don’t get me involved, seriously. “ Ghost sighed once he realized the men encircle him & before he knew it, attacked. Unrestrained with their barrage of punches as the boogeyman simply maneuvered his way around them, ending the fight in one punch that left each unconscious. “ Oh f***! “ The one who persisted with the rape had finally unhinge his member from the woman’s genitals as Ghost covered the distance in seconds, hitting him with his own barrage of combos before a swift kick in the d*ck. “ Well that’s that.. “ Only now did he notice his coat being tugged by the woman he just so happened to save. “ Thank you.. “ She mumbled. If only she knew how much he couldn’t care less.
Needless to say the title ‘ Unlikely Hero ‘ wasn’t amassed in one day, hell it took months to acquire that many unexpected situations under his belt. It wasn’t like it was ever his intention to stay in the inside to help let alone fight for those who couldn’t, after all the weak didn’t have a right to ask for help & yet for some reason he found solace in the fact he could be more then the embodiment of sh*t his parents made him out to be. For now he would simply be the man with no name, wandering the streets for a way out of the hellhole. Until then he suppose it couldn’t hurt to help those in need like he was.. Right?