Bear (market) Baiting

Bear (Market) Baiting: What do you do when you have everything you ever wanted, except for the freedom to choose?

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  It hurt, everything hurt, but he had to keep moving, or else it would all be over and the hard work he went through this evening would have been for nothing.

  He was getting tired of that feeling, the feeling nothing going right. It hung over him like an unwanted friend and kept his mind active with the thoughts of all the worst things that could happen nearly every waking moment.

  In the deep, inground Arena, the "man" could barely hear the raucous cheering from above, his heart pumping loudly in his ears from the exertion of this fight. His body was shaking with exhaustion, his left arm was aching after being twisted harshly from a botched punch, his nose was steadily leaking blood and his bare chest was dripping with sweat from trying to cool his overheated body. He knew he had to end this fight, and soon. He knew wasn't going to last much longer.

  The crowd's crescendo was reaching it's climax, their screams for blood and violence getting louder, the last match of the night was the most watched and favored event in the games and they were getting a good show. The only thing Viacom could make out in the raving crowd from his peripheral vision was a stark white suit and vivid red tie that was several feet away from the main crowd. Fox was the only bright thing in this dark hole.

  He quickly turned his full attention back to the fight at hand and kept his remaining eye on his opponent, the other one already dull and unfocused from a well-aimed punch an hour ago. He could feel it leaking blood, dripping off his blank face and staining the concrete beneath their feet a dark blue. It was a throbbing, painful reminder he had to keep his eye on the goal and not lose sight of it, again.

  Soon he could see that his opponent was about to strike, the large body in front of him ready to deliver the final punch to end this match. The smaller corporate entity prepared for it and as the strike was ready to hit home the dark creature nimbly darted to the right, dodging the blow by mere centimeteres and hit his opponent's vulnerable left side. His right fist hit the challenger's ribs with all his might and pent up rage and the sickening crunch of breaking body-mass was loud to both combatants.

  At the moment of impact, the decisive punch left cracks of broken skin and flesh all along the fellow entity's body, leaving a large, glowing spiderweb pattern growing all along his side and blood pouring profusely from between the cracks.

  That would take weeks to heal, if he was lucky.

  His foe doubled over in pain, knees hitting the arena floor with a loud thud, his meaty hands grabbed his side in sheer agony and, as a dark shadow blotted out the overhead lights, the loser looked up at the triumphant winner. Viacom felt sick pleasure at the fear that radiated off his defeated enemy, and in a rare showing of physical emotion he smiled.

  It wasn't a pleasant one.

  His "mouth" opened like a horizontal gash in space and sharp, white teeth were bared for his opponent to see. Uneven and jagged like that of a wild animal's, Viacom's facsimile of a grin and overall wild appearance cut a bestial image in front of the downed adversary.

  The crowd had quieted down and waited with bated breath to see what would happen next, tension was high and tempers were running hot, a lot of people made a bad bet.

   "Do you surrender?" Said Viacom, his monotonous voice reverberating in the pit, teeth still bared. One word could end this battle and so could one wrong move. It was the loser's choice if he wanted to leave out of here on his own terms or if he wanted to be dragged out.

  The other corporation groaned and bowed his head. He lifted up his right hand and held up his index and middle finger, the sign of a withdrawal. "I-i surrender." Viacom looked up at the Judges' Booth and soon a single, loud klaxon sounded the end of the match. With it, the sounds of the crowd came rushing back. Some people were cheering while others booed and yelled in anger.

  "VI-A-COM! VI-A-COM!" Chanted many in the stands and Viacom waved back at them before hastily exiting the arena. He could feel his strength start to wane and the last thing he needed was for people to see how weak he had become.

******
  Once the doors were shut Viacom made it a few steps before nearly collapsing. The corridor's dingy wall was the only thing that kept him from falling to the floor. Using the wall as a brace, Viacom shuffled down the maze of corridors slowly, legs wobbling the entire way until he reached a small locker-room.  He sat heavily on a small bench and rested, trying to gather some his strength back.

  'Fox, you weaselly bastard, you better get here soon.' thought Viacom tersely, the pain he was feeling making him even more tense and aggitated. He sat back on the wall, let the cool stone sooth his aching body and closed his eyes.

******

  "Well, Stevens, I bet you wern't expecting that now were you?" the smokey voice intoned and cruel mirth dripped from his tone with every syllable. Fox was pleased, the fight went perfectly. It had just the right amount of suspense and action that kept all the spectators on their toes.

 Harold Stevens, thiry-four year old entrepreneur and apparent loser, watched as his fighter limped offstage, barely able to stand, let alone move. 'Fuck what a waste.' Stevens was now out of at least hundreds of thousands of dollars, in just one day. Stevens looked back at the "thing" in the suit and sneered, 'How dare this thing mock him.'

  "You said he was weak." Stevens snarled, "If you're ly-"

  "I said he was one of the weaker media companies, Harry." Using a nickname he knew the man hated. "But, you do have to remember, some of the stronger ones in line above him are Disney, Comcast and myself. So your definition of weak is going to be vastly different compared to mine."

  The corporation turned to look at the human and smiled wickedly, white teeth gleaming. "If you're too foolish to not take my exact words into account, then that's your own fault. I told you the truth and you still went ahead with betting against him. That's your loss."

  "But don't worry," Said Fox, patting the human's shoulder in a friendly manner before turning away from the sore loser. "I'm sure you'll find a new shipping company to bring to the table."

   With that said the media company turned to leave, but before exiting the arena stands Fox looked back at the human, red irises glowing like hot embers in the darkness. "I'll expect the payment and product to be in my limo before my friend and I leave, the chauffeur will be waiting. Don't make me come get you."

  Harold nodded frantically, he knew a threat when he heard one.

  "Good. I'll see you in a couple of months. Bring your friend back next time if he's able, the crowd liked this one."

************

  Fox walked past the beaten competitors and their handlers that filled the underground hallways, ignoring nearly all of them, to make it to the Winner's Area and beyond. As he went further beneath the building the lights became dimmer and the walls were dustier and cracked with disrepair. Luckily, Fox knew which way to go, knowing where Viacom's favorite hideout was.

  Soon he found the old locker-room and with it his friend. He seen the exhausted company slumped quietly on the far wall, chin resting on his bare chest that was rising and falling rhythmically. Hell, he hadn't even gotten re-dressed after the fight. Fox shook his head in amusement before waking Viacom and easily catching the fist that V threw his way when Fox startled him awake.

  "C'mon, we have to go, if you want to beat New York traffic."

  Viacom was half-awake and barely aware of his surroundings. Fox looked into the glowing white glasses, both lenses wavering in light intensity before dulling even further, and sighed quietly, letting go of his friend's now slack hand before reaching into a suit pocket.

  'Apparently that hit did more damage than I thought.' Fox was somewhat worried, he'd never seen him this messed up after a fight like this before.

  "Sorry my friend, I know you don't like doing this here, but you need the energy now." As he said this, he finally fished out the tiny, computer-chip like device he was looking for. Smooth on nearly all sides except for the needle-like spikes on the bottom, it was barely the size of a fingernail. It was called SimStock, a simulated program that mimicked the effects of rising company stock, and it was a very powerful stimulant.

   Only used in emergencies and heavily controlled, the bootleg versions of the drug were rampant in these types of places. While they were just as powerful as the real thing, they were much more dangerous. Sim healed superficial wounds and gave the user enough energy to properly function for several days without needed rest, but prolonged exposure caused psychosis and hallucinations, amongst other things.

  Fox firmly grasped Viacom's upper arm and removed the cap on the bottom, lined up the spikes just above the ticker symbol every personification had and quickly jabbed the device into his friend's arm. The SimStock worked quickly and in a few seconds the personified media conglomerate fully awoke from his stupor, both eyes blazing and his ticker symbol glowing a bright green.

  "Hey, V. Are you back?" Fox waved his hand in front of the other company, trying to see if the Sim worked properly.

*************

  Viacom eyes suddenly focused and he seen his friend hovering inches in front of him, close enough to even smell the light scent of scotch on his breath. He had enough of this personal encounter and pushed Fox away, trying to get some fresh air and his personal space back.

  "Well, hello to you too, tall, dark and gruesome." said Fox, kind of irate that this is how he was thanked. He let the feeling go though and moved to one of the lockers. Opening the least dusty one and gathered Viacom's neatly folded suit jacket, dress shirt and tie before shutting the metal door harshly. Fox had half a mind to just throw them onto the floor, but he wasn't that petty. Not yet anyways.

  Viacom ignored his pouting friend and tried to gather his senses, rubbed his sore arm and distinctly felt the all too familiar shape of a Sim embedded deeply in his skin. Viacom was furious, there was only one person that could have the audacity to do this, and he was standing right in front of him. He let Fox feel his aura of white-hot rage flow through him, making sure the pulses hurt.

  "WHAT DID YOU DO?!" His voice was a deep, guttural monotone and the anger was palpable.

  "Don't get mad at me for helping you, you idiot!" Fox yelled back, throwing Viacom's clothes back to him, not caring if he caught them or not. "You're the one that could barely move after he nearly got his ass kicked by FedEx. You were losing consciousness. Did you really want me to drag your ass to Redstone and let him deal with you?" Fox was positively livid and it showed, his eyes turning a blood orange. "Did you want little Nicky to see you in the infirmary and be scared?"

  "I did what I thought was right Vi, even though I knew you wouldn't have liked it." Fox huffed, folding his arms to his chest and leaned against the door-stop, his anger slowly bleeding away.

  The seated personification bowed his dark head lowly, suddenly embarrased at his outburst. He didn't mean to yell at his companion like that. The sickly aura of shame permeated off of him in slow waves.

  "I'm sorry Fox, I didn't mean to snap at you like that." Viacom said quietly.

  He stood up to put his suit on properly, tucking in his dress shirt after carefully sliding it over his still sore frame. Viacom tried to put on his tie, but his hands were trembling too much to even tie the first knot right. He was about to give up before Fox walked towards him and took the tie in his much steadier hands.

  "Here, let me help you." With that said, Fox expertly tied a Double-windsor, making sure the knot was symmetrical, before smoothing the silk tie of any wrinkles.

  "Thank you."

  "It's alright. You need to look your best at all times, I get it." Fox understood the thanks went a little further than helping him with a mere tie, but he didn't push. Putting on the finishing touches with the tie and helping Viacom with his suit jacket, he led them both out of the room with steady arm over Viacom's shoulders, knowing he still didn't have good balance just yet.

***********

  The cool night air was a relief to the two corporations, the hours in the arena and stifling underground hallways had been a claustrophobic hassle to the both of them and they were glad to finally be out of there. The abandoned warehouse was far away enough from the city to be able to see the stars and here the sounds of wildlife in the distance.

  These arenas dotted much of the upper Hudson Valley and more rural parts of New York, which made it an ideal haven for illegal activities. The organizers, participants and competitors liked the secrecy because this type of gambling was heavily frowned upon by law enforcement and the business community.

  As they walked further away, Fox seen where the Company limo was parked and steered Viacom and himself towards it, ready to leave. The chauffeur, a young human male, opened the door for the both of them and once they were inside the door shut. Soon the engine started and they were off towards New York City. It would take hours to get back home, but they welcomed the time. Manhattan was just too much at times.

  Fox relaxed in his seat, getting comfortable in the soft leather, before looking at the large briefcase next to him. 'Good, Stevens kept up his end of the deal.' thought Fox, smugly. He grabbed the case and opened it, glad to see all the legal tender he and Viacom had won tonight stacked neatly, all $250,000 dollars of it.

  $250K didn't sound like a lot when it came to what these two were and how many billions they dealt with on a daily basis, but it was actually theirs. It wasn't an allowance that was strictly monitored, it wasn't luxury houses and extravagant clothing given to them by their masters' that felt less like gifts and more like prisons every single day.

  It was just a small amount of money, chump change really, but it belonged solely to them and that meant something.

  Fox looked at his friend seated in front of him, watching the wraith-like entity look at the trees that past by the window in a blur. Fox was glad that Viacom was doing better after the fight, but as Fox watched Viacom rub the SimStock that was under his suit obsessively, he became worried. He knew of his friend's financial troubles and he knew Viacom took SimStock when he was having a bad day at the Stock Exchange.

  Unfortunately, that was happening more often than not these days and with the corporate governance fight that was happeing in broad daylight, Viacom had even more of a reason to use the Sim.

  Fox looked back down at the suitcase's contents and looked at the small wooden box set off to the side, he knew what it contained and he was suddenly overcome with the feeling that he shouldn't be giving his friend these. Fox shook off the feeling like a wet dog. 'We'll talk about it when it's time.' Fox didn't think this was the right time or place to be talking about an intervention.

  "Are you alright?" The sudden voice startled Fox out of his reverie and he looked to see Viacom's blank face give him an inscrutable look.

  "I'm fine Vi, just tired is all." Fox said, avoiding the issue by not even talking about.

  Viacom still looked at him for a few more seconds but shrugged his shoulders minutely and turned back to gaze at the landscape outside, finding the natural scenery a welcome difference from the grey and steel of the city.

  Both corporate entities went back to their thoughts in the quiet interior and relished the calm atmosphere. They'd let the worries of the city and real life come back to them when they reached the city limits in several hours.

***Fin***