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PostPosted: August 8th, 2009, 5:29 pm 
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Moononite
Moononite

Joined: February 18th, 2009, 9:47 pm
Posts: 241
Just a little something I decided to do out of boredom and my love for a certain hockey mask-wearing secondary character from Ninja Turtles. I always felt he deserved a better back-story than a couple of lines in one of the movies.

Enjoy! Comments are appreciated, more to come!

Part 1-
Superstar/Savant

He was the hottest thing to hit sports in years, the biggest news in the rookie league and well on his way to claiming a spot among the greats, Casey Jones was a superstar. Not only able to play EVERY single sport he took up, he EXCELLED at them too, baseball, football, soccer, even tennis, Casey was one of the best. Bashing his way through anyone in his path, he was easily the deadliest man on the hockey rink at any given moment, even more-so when he had a puck to shoot home though. Indeed Hockey was Casey’s calling from the very beginning, which made sense considering that both his father AND grandfather had been professional goalies.

Casey’s path to stardom began when he was in High School, up until that point, he’d been utilized as a sort of bulldozer on the hockey rink to clear a path to the goal, but after an incident in which Casey somehow managed to plow his way across the entire rink and score single-handedly, he was instantly given a scholarship and all-but guaranteed a professional shot… And sure enough, after 3 years of playing his way through college, Casey made it. He was drafted by the New York Rangers and was well on his way to PROFESSIONAL stardom… Until one night after a game…

Casey was on his way out of the stadium, he’d waited until all the press and fans had left, trying to get one night off from the attention he’d suddenly gotten during his year playing in the NHL. He made his way out of the locker room hallway, out into the cold, Winter New York air, the sounds of the city buzzing around him like an applause. He knew that this was the life for him, fortune and glory while doing what he loved to do. On top of the world, and nothing could bring him down.

He was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts by the sounds of footsteps approaching from behind the building, he turned, tucking a baseball cap down over his face so as to avoid any potential fans who’d been especially dedicated to waiting.

“Hey, Casey Jones!” One of them shouted, Casey sighed, tipped the hat back up on his head and turned around, plastering a smile on his face. He might as well give his fans what they wanted… Which, judging by the knife that was suddenly in his face, was a bit more than an autograph.

“Can I help you boys?” Casey asked, surveying the 5 men gathered around him, they looked big, mean, and angry about something to boot.

“I just blew 5000 bucks on that game, Jones…”

Casey just shrugged, subtly reaching for the hockey stick stuck into his duffel bag. “Sorry fellas, can’t not do what they brought me here to do.” He said smugly. “Why don’t you just bet on ME next time?”

“Or how bout you make up for the loss we took tonight?” One of them suggested, picking up a pipe from the ground.

“Look boys, I’m tired, its been a long day and it seems like you’ve all been at the bottle already, why not go finish those off and we’ll call it a night?”

“I’m gonna shut that smart-mouth of yours!” The one with the pipe shouted, rushing at him and swinging the weapon.

Casey ducked under the swing, yanking the hockey stick out of his bag and whipping the bag horizontally at the others, knocking the ‘leader’ into the ones behind him. He swung the hockey stick with all his might, driving it into the face of the man with the pipe and knocking his foe off his feet. He spun around and held the stick with both hands, driving it broad-side into the leader’s chest. One of the other socked Casey in the face, which knocked him back, but he was used to taking hits, so he quickly recovered, yanking the rubber guard off the tip of his stick and driving the aluminum handle right into his sternum, causing his attacker to emit a loud gasp and then Casey shoved him to the ground. As he faced off with the last two, who were hesitant to attack now, he grinned.

“See? You coulda gone home and sobered up, but I guess getting your skulls busted will have to-”

His statement was cut off though, and replaced with a shout of pain as the man with the pipe, still on the ground, slammed the weapon into the back of Casey’s knee as hard as he could, knocking it out of the socket and bringing him down on his damaged appendage. He clutched his broken knee in agony, groaning as his attackers slowly got to their feet, clutching their own wounds.

“Not so tough NOW, huh superstar?” The leader said, shoving him onto his back with his foot and grabbing the hockey stick from the ground. “Lets see if I got any talent for the game…” He added, hefting the stick and arching it back as though he was about to do a slapshot… Which he did.

He put all his muscle behind the stick and slammed it straight into Casey’s injured knee, getting a scream of pain for his effort, then the others all gathered around Casey, pummeling the defenseless man without mercy.

------------------------------

After the stick hit his knee, Casey’s memory began to get fuzzy, he vaguely remembered a security team stopping the assault, he barely remembered the ambulance arriving, and he had NO memory of the trip to the hospital or the next day that followed.

Casey awoke fully two days after his assault, barely able to open one of his eyes and feeling a welt on his bandaged head. The room had lots of flowers waiting, but nobody was present in the room, silent except for the steady ‘beep, beep, beep’ of the heart monitor he was hooked up to. Casey tried moving to a sitting position, but pain suddenly shot through his lower body, and he remembered the attack on his leg. Oh God… His leg!

He threw the blanket aside, fought through the stiffness and the sore muscles to push himself up… and saw it.

His entire leg and pelvis was in a cast… It had to be bad.

The doctor came in soon after he awoke and explained that he’d broken three bones in his leg, and that the cartilage in his knee was completely crushed. It would be awhile before he could walk without limping, and when he asked about playing Hockey, the Doctor paused, as though it was a silly question, then carefully informed Casey that he would probably never be able to play again.

The news hit him like a sledgehammer to the stomach, and he immediately vomited on the floor of his hospital room.

---------------------------------

Almost 3 months later, Casey Jones left the Rangers stadium again, but now he walked with a cane and carried a VIP ticket… He’d been there watching, and by the end of the first quarter vowed that he’d kill himself before ever entering the arena again. It was too painful to watch them do what he’d never be able to do again, what he’d felt like he’d been BORN to do… What his FATHER and GRANDFATHER had done.

When he finally wandered back to his apartment, he began immediately sorting through all his trophies and awards, stuffing them into boxes, which he shoved into a closet he never used… Then he came to the display he’d made for his father’s trophies… His father and grandfather had both used the same hockey mask, it had become sort of an heirloom for the men in the family, passed down from father to son… It was a customized one, very intimidating to look at, slits for eyes, a heavy brow had been added, to give the wearer a fierce gaze at all times. The mouth portion was just three slits and looked almost like fangs.

Casey slid the case open, removing the mask and running his fingers along the rough surface, tracing the familiar grooves left behind by all the hits it had taken over the years… He always liked the mask, and sort of wished he’d been a goalie himself, but it was a moot point now… His fingers tightened around the mask and he flung it back into the case angrily, turning away and kicking the box with his trophies inside, smashing it against the wall and knocking over a golf bag packed with random sports equipment in the closet… All his life had been spent working up to the NHL… He wouldn’t even have gotten through COLLEGE if it wasn’t for his sports, but now… Now he’d wasted his entire life, and the weight of this crashed down on him so hard that he literally was pushed to a sitting position on the floor of his apartment…

Then the sound of his name caught his ear and he turned towards the television, which he’d completely forgotten was even on.

“-and another shocking upset came today when the D.A. offered a deal to the men responsible for the assault on popular NHL player Casey Jones, resulting in the former star’s untimely retirement from the professional league. The men were released on bail today, somehow able to afford the reportedly hefty sum, and sources close to the investigation are telling us that links to organized crime are being examined.”

Casey pushed himself up off the ground with his cane, angrily shuffling over to the tv and staring at it incredulously… Released? They were supposed to be up for ATTEMPTED MURDER! How could they have been released!?

He clenched his jaw and ran a hand through his hair, flinging his cane across the room and nearly falling over, but his fury made him fight through the pain, forcing himself to stand. He took a step away from the television, then another step… He barely even felt the pain from his injury now as he paced around the apartment… Something needed to be done… They HAD to pay for what they did to him, he pushed all his feelings of self-pity and woe down into the pit of his stomach, swallowed all his anger, letting it burn away those feelings and fuel his rage even MORE… Then his eyes fell across the mask, still laying in the display case…

He reached in and plucked the mask out once more, now looking at it with different eyes. An idea began forming in his mind, and he turned, looking at the bag of sports gear he’d knocked over, then back down at the mask again. He looked at himself in the mirror and saw the sad, unkempt face of a failure… But that could be hidden… The monster that was growing inside him from the hatred and fury he felt for what had been stolen from him could be presented to the world…

He slowly lifted the mask towards his head, feeling the leather straps slide down over his hair, the cool, smooth interior of the mask sliding over his sweat-coated face… and he looked at himself from the eyes that were no longer just that of Casey Jones… But something much more lethal.

He was ready for his revenge.


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