Leaving Hell Part 3

Chapter 278-2

Leaving Hell

Part 3

 

Dad, Mr. Vincent and I were benched, as Mr. Bronson and the rest of our men took the field with Kirk and Eli after winning the coin tossed. Mr. Striker laughed seeing that he had replaced all his injured players with fresh ones; he didn’t have any boys what’s so ever on his team. Dad smiled. “This will be fun, now that we can actually do some serious damage.” Again our team won the coin toss, not hard to believe when you have a ghostly friend like Jeff.

However, Mr. Wesley said they can have the ball first. Everyone looked at him as if he was crazy. Well except for me and Tony knowing that Jeff intended to make sure that they didn’t get enough points to even come close. In fact, he brought in a couple of friends to help that owed me and him a favor for saving their a*s. Plus they too were wanted a little payback. Mr. Striker commented that temperature dropped all of sudden as he asked for some to bring him a coat to wear. Mr. Wesley laughed watching him put it on and zip it up. Watching him remove his shirt and wipe his brow with it.

We boys and our Dads would have done the same, but the thing was we weren’t wearing a shirt. In fact, we were all butt naked and it was rather warm in here. Even his own team tsked stating that he must be coming down with something as they all took the field naked as the day they were born. None of them bothered with greasing themselves up even though they could have. But all us boys did liking the idea of making them work for it.

The ball snapped as it was hiked to one of Mr. Striker’s men as we watched 8 large guys in line push each other back and forth like gorillas fighting over a banana punching each other. The man with the ball tripped over something as he laid sprawled out three inches or so in a liquid mess as it rained down on them like there was no end in sight. I could see and hear motors running at the sides of the field made sucking noise to prevent the liquid muck from overflowing the sides as it rerouted back into the system; which was why the chocolate sauce was more of water base then a syrup base. Besides why rain clear water when you can rain dark chocolate milk.

The ball was quickly picked up by another member of their team as it ran to the goal line. He tossed it as I watched one of Jeff’s friends tip the ball as it was about to make the hole, and everyone gasped as it looked like it wasn’t about to go in. Jeff said to make it fair; since we were largely ahead; watching his friend give a heavy sigh letting the ball go into the hole and the basket.

Mr. Striker smiled and said that’s 5 points as his hand showed five fingers as the scoreboard added his three points to the 5, making it 8 points. The next ball was ours and this time Bishop Earl took off running leaping like a mad man as he tossed the ball to Eli and turned and took care of business as the guy found his fist in his face as Bishop Earl clocked him so hard several teeth came shooting out from the force of it.

Eli tossed the ball to Kirk at the last moment then did roundhouse kick with somersault over the man that was about to tackle him to the ground. Then body slammed him really hard hearing bone crunch and a loud scream; ran towards the mayhem as Kirk tossed the ball to Bishop Earl as he made the dunk as the ball went into the hole watching the green light turn red and the scoreboard. 

Mr. Wesley faked a yawn then showed his five fingers to Mr. Striker who was in a shell shocked as he watched Eli walkway without so much as a scratch and giving Mr. Wesley and his teammates all high fives as they waited to see if the guy he took care of was going to get back up. Eli smiled as the stretchers were brought in seeing he wasn’t the only one that didn’t get back up.

However with the rules changed, the forfeit wouldn’t take place unless there were no men left to play and there were no more trading for fresh un-injured guys. They either had to play all their guys or concede the win. Mr. Granger was also surprised as he looked over at us rubbing his face with his hands. Then yelled at Mr. Striker for it, and showed him the blade in his hands and dragging his finger across his throat. Again we won the coin toss. Not that it mattered because once again Mr. Wesley said they can have the ball again.

Jeff cursed because he thought he was only wasting his time trying to get us the ball every single time, but instead he took a seat next to Mr. Striker putting his arms around him, whispering nice things in his ear on how much he really going too love hell, watching wrap his arms around him and rub his hands for warmth, even blowing his hot breath into them. Every one thinks hell is hot. When the truth is it could be just easily cold as ice.

Once again Mr. Striker got the point, but it cost him two more guys courtesy of Chad and Greg as the guy trying to get up but couldn’t with a broken leg and arm and not on the same side either making it impossible for him to play as he two left on a stretcher. Mr. Wesley yelled across. “Funny how these are the boys you didn’t want and they are the ones pounding your men into kilning.”

Bishop Earl, Tony, and Mr. Bronson became a pack of pain taking out two guys at once, watching the bodies’ line up across the field. Coach Brady rubbed in by laughing pointing to them and using his one hand bending down three fingers; noting that so far none of our players have been injured except a few cuts and bruise.

By the time the 3rd quarter ended the score was 20 too 13. Jeff decided that was a big enough point spread. Mr. Striker was madder than a hornet and twice as scared knowing that the next and last quarter would decide his fate. Not that he had a lot to hope; his life was going to end one way or another tonight. Jeff had told me as much and the same for Mr. Granger and Mr. Gregory.

We all knew what would happen the moment they put those keys into the lock of the chamber door. We knew we could never allow that to happen. Most of all not tonight of all nights and we pretty sure if ever, but Jeff and his friends weren’t. They wanted to open that chamber, but not at night and not on satanic Holy day where they celebrate it for three whole days using the last day to pledge their souls or renew their contracts with their Demon God.

The buzzer went off announcing that clock had run out of time as Mr. Wesley prepared to take the field placing Coach Brady in charge of running the plays. Mr. Granger stepped in for Mr. Striker as he argued that he had to be bare a*s naked like the rest of us. Dad, and I and Tony and Mr. Vincent took the field pulling off Kirk, Eli Greg, and Chad. Allowing the rest of the boys and men we had left that wanted a piece of the action to play. Mr. Striker didn’t have 12 men or boys he was down to 8 and most of them were injured. He told them to suck it up that they either play or die he didn’t care which at this point.

Dad smiled at me as we whispered a plan placing a large target on Mr. Striker. We were told we could beat him up, but not so he couldn’t walk off the field. Since Jeff and his friends had plans for him and Stringum had been working tired-less to make sure that Mr. Striker and friends never make it out of here on their own two feet. It would be such a shame to waste a good chance to make him and his friends sweat. It was all good we had 7 men we could bring the pain too; Jeff didn’t mind them being unable to walk straight for a month unless you considered an 8 by 9 cell walking.

Again Mr. Granger reminded Mr. Striker about how much he needed to win, yet he still hadn’t noticed that every boy and girl that was considered pledge age or above the age of 13 was no longer here and neither were their parents. I whispered softly just 30 more minutes and we were out of here as I focused on the play and the soft targets I wanted during this play.

Mr. Wesley went head to head with Mr. Striker. This time when we won the coin toss he took it. Even after they trade the coin once again tossing the old into nearest burning container questioning why every coin tosses were in our favor.

Mr. Wesley snapped the ball too Mr. Bronson as he made run for it watching the two men stares at each trading heated breaths. Then all of sudden they lunged for each other. Beating each other as they trade punches and rolled in the muck and the constant rain of liquid chocolate forgetting all about the game until we had made a basket and 3 more players joined those on the injured list.

All I can say the prison hospital, providing they live that long or make it too prison hospital will be awfully busy. This time instead of a coin toss they simply broke a toothpick. Again we won the toss, but Mr. Wesley gave the ball to them instead in good faith because we were head now that score was 25 to 13.

I personally don’t understand Mr. Wesley logic allowing them to beat us by putting points on the board I had thought the idea of this game was to win by landslide, but I had to admit that I also admired the guy allowing the other team a chance to catch up. The ball snapped as I slapped head with my hand as I watched the ball fly over the man’s head bounce off the side of the other two guys and land straight into the goal line. Then the Mr. Strikers man reaches down to pick up the ball and falls on it as shoots straight into the hole giving them five points for sure dumb luck.

Mr. Striker too was amazed, shrugged his shoulders as if to say. “What Can I Say our true God wants us to win?” Even though he didn’t earn those five points the hard way. Jeff too was amazed because neither he nor his friends were responsible for it, was just what it was.

This time when we won the coin toss Mr. Wesley took the ball and this time he surprised me as Dad and Mr. Vincent played leap frog having Mr. Wesley fall back, as Mr. Striker was about to find himself in a world of hurt. I cringed when I heard the bone-crunching scream as they ran through him like a train going 100 miles an hour. Seeing Mr. Striker sprawled out like a scarecrow, knocked out, with several missing teeth and a broken nose. Listening to Mr. Granger yell at him and his men to stop Mr. Bronson as he made a mad dash to the goal line as our team was taking their time playing with Mr. Strikers men as if they were a dogs chew toy.

The buzzer went off announcing the game was over. As the scoreboard read 30 to 18 in our favor Mr. Striker groaned as he shook himself trying to get too his feet wobbling like a drunken man. Mr. Granger was mad as hell since he had just lost a small fortune betting on Mr. Striker to win.  Stringum smiled as he stood on his soapbox stage announced the winner handing Mr. Wesley an envelope that had the key in it and asked how he would like his cash. He said. “Cashiers cheek please, deposited into my account first thing Monday morning.”

Stringum nodded and said. “The time is now yours. Let the celebration begin. Dinner will be served precisely at 7 pm for those that are staying for the celebration if you are not please vacate the premises if you have not made an arrangement with me.”

Everyone cheered, well not everyone. There were quite a number of wounded players. Most if not all were Mr. Strikers team, plus him and Mr. Granger were quite upset by the fact he lost by a landslide for the first time in a very long time. Then there were those that had also taken bets that his team would beat us.

The first thing we wanted to do was take a nice hot shower to get all this crap off us as we quickly made a hasty exit. Mr. Wesley handed the envelope to Mr. Granger and bowed. “The key is yours, but remember I was the one that won it. It was a fair game and you know it. Now excuses me I want too get cleaned up and see if we can help one another by solving the puzzle to where we might find where Mr. Tate hid the keys. Should we say 30 minutes or so? Or do you need a bit longer? I noticed that your two counselors have gone missing, my question is do we need them are we able to proceed without them?”

He said. “Oh, I intend to find out what has happened to them if I have to search every room in this house. Plus it will give me a chance to deal with my current problem which is deal with Mr. Striker, for embarrassing me tonight. No offense I didn’t expect you to win, in fact, I am still shell shocked by it. Considering Mr. Striker has never lost a game like this in all the years I have known him. Knowing that we both go back many years and I congratulate you for proving that you are most worthy opponent.

“I didn’t expect you to climb the ladder of success so fast since over the last few years when I brought you into the fold you had just started out on your own. Knowing that someday there was a possibility that you would take make my place, being as we are both cuts from the same cloth, and have known each other from our days at Harvard when we were mere colleges or should I say fraternity brothers, and attending our first welcoming ceremony. Now you are about to become one of the most powerfulness men the world has ever known after tonight.

“The question is are you ready and have you chosen who you would like to rule beside you once you have taken the mantel of leadership and pledge your life to our master, as these fools become nothing more than puppets on a string. Having no idea what means to pledge their souls to some nameless God.”

Mr. Wesley said. “Yes I have, and I have been thinking that Mr. Holliman and Mr. Carrion would be perfect for the job. They are young and they have exactly what we need to bring us into a new era. I haven’t spoken to them about it as of yet, wanting to see how useful they would be; but apparently, they are more than qualified. I would also like to bring Mr. Vincent as well since it would be a shame to waste not to uses them.

“Since Mr. Striker and his two idiots, Mr. Gregory and Mr. Fairchild have outlived their usefulness. Giving their three slots to Mr. Carrion, Mr. Holliman, and Mr. Vincent, since it was largely done too them that we had outmatched Mr. Striker and his little band of idiots. Now if you would excuse me my lord my holiness. I would like a nice hot shower before we meet again.” He bowed placing his right hand over his sternum and made his way to the shower.