"Declan Hale meet Kieffer Stone." Vs. Dickie Watson

[Declan Hale]

“THE PLANT” at SO-CAL ULTRAVIOLENT in SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA - February 18th, 2018

Sunny California. On a day like today, normally people would be outside enjoying the nice weather. Well, not where we are. Instead, everyone stands inside of a dusty old warehouse-turned-training facility. In grungy graffiti style painting, the words “The Plant” are seen on a garage bay door that was located next to a traditional entryway. Stepping inside, we’re greeted by a full sized wrestling ring in the middle of the warehouse. Free weights line one wall of the warehouse, cardio machines in the back, and bleachers on the other. The layout then deviates into the offices of Andrew Wolfe and Laine Pierce. Andrew, having sustained an injury not too long ago, doesn’t spend much time assisting training right now. Instead it’s Plant graduates Riley Calix and Noah Reigner doing so. Noah is in the ring with trainees, Tyler Wolfe and Tenleigh Frost. Riley stands on the outside, one arm crossed over his chest and the other brought up, his hand holding his chin as he watches.

Riley’s attention is removed from the ring when he hears the door open and a handful of students walk in. He hears this because of the loud conversations a couple of them have. He dropped his arms and eyed his students, nodding to each one as they passed him. Except for one. He stopped and pulled aside. This young student was around twenty-two or so, slim frame and stood about as tall as Riley. Riley allowed the other students enter the change rooms or to take to the bleachers to watch Noah, Tyler and Tenleigh before he turned to the student he kept to the side. “Hey, Kieffer I need to speak to you for a second.” Riley said. That was the student’s name. Kieffer Stone.

“I have a job for you.” After those words were spoken, you could almost feel Kieffer’s excitement. “You got me into a company?” Kieffer asked, which Riley looked a little shocked at. It took him a second to realize how it sounded. “Wait. No, sorry. Not with a company. You’re still too new for that right now. But I have a job for you nevertheless.” Kieffer’s excitement wasn’t as thick as it was before, but a job away from the rigorous training everyday sounded good. “Okay, what is it, Riley?”

“I need you to go to Newark, New Jersey. I hear there’s a new company out that way called The Factory. A little place that, like So Cal was, tends to lean more toward the violent side of this business we’re in. I need you to go there because supposedly my brother is there and will be working for that company.” Kieffer looked a little confused, but remained open. “Okay. And what do you want me to do once I find your brother? And why are you so concerned?” He picked up on the tone that Riley’s voice carried.

“Why I’m concerned is.. He’s my little brother. I don’t know if you have siblings or not, but you always worry about your siblings. And what I want you to do is just keep an eye on him. He has a short fuse and a big temper. Make sure he stays out of trouble, that’s all. If anything, give me a call asap - got it?” Kieffer nodded his head. "And he can't know I sent you."

“Alright, no problem Riley.” - “I’ve already saw to it that you have a ticket to the next flight out. I’m not sure where he is, but I’m sure you can find him. Check bars, ask around if they’ve seen an overly aggressive guy with red hair. He’s not hard to spot.” Riley begun to turn back to the ring, when Kieffer reached out and grabbed his shoulder. Spinning around, Riley’s eyes found his student again “What’s his name?” Kieffer asked.

“Declan Hale.”

UNKNOWN INDUSTRIAL LOCATION in NEWARK, NEW JERSEY - February 20th, 2018

This vacant industrial lot gives us a grimey backdrop of smoke stacks and warehouse buildings before dropping off into a man-constructed storm-drain ravine. The sun sets in the background, disappearing more by the minute behind the smoke stacks. In this vacant lot, a circle of men is formed around two other men. One shirtless, pale with red hair - standing tall over the other, fully clothed male. The men circling these two cheer and yell like savages after the “ginger” to put down the other. Keep in mind, he wasn’t completely unscathed. His hair was a mess, blood poured from his nose into his red mustache and beard, and his knuckles also were ripped and bloody.

He was Declan Hale. And how he found himself in this situation is a mystery to us. But from the looks of things, this looks like an organized fight. Two men emerge from the circle and drag the other, who clutches at his battered face, away from Declan’s feet. Declan looks around, a bloody smirk on his eyes as his eyes scan the circle. “Who’s next?” He calls out. A man, smaller in stature than Declan, steps out of the circle. Tilting and slightly twisting his neck, Declan waves him on. The circle tightens, all watching as the two approach one another. Declan drags his thumb over his lower lip, removing the trace of blood that was there, and waved on his new opponent.

ON LOOKER ONE “He’s going to have to use his speed. This new guy has come in and thrown bombs.”

ON LOOKER TWO “Speed isn’t going to save him. One hit and that small guy is stone.”

ON LOOKER ONE “It has to count for something, though right? He’s small and agile enough to avoid those heavy strikes.”

ON LOOKER TWO “I know the guy personally. He’s new to fighting, he doesn’t know how to predict what’s coming up. This guy, though?”

He pointed to Declan, who had a hold of his smaller opponent - hitting him with several punches to the stomach followed by an elbow to the nose.

ON LOOKER TWO “He looks like he knows what he’s doing, that he’s done this for awhile.”

The smaller-fighter has blocked a strike attempt from Declan, put him into a headlock of sorts and threw him over his hip and to the floor. Keeping the headlock applied, he fed Declan punches to the face.

ON LOOKER ONE “He has technique though. I don’t see the other guy able to counter and keep up with holds and throws like that.”

ON LOOKER TWO “Are you fucking high? This is a fight not a goddamn wrestling in a gymnasium somewhere.”

ON LOOKER ONE “Technique helps considerably, fight or not.”

ON LOOKER TWO “We’ll see how well holds and shit work when he’s punching you in the damn face.”

Declan has managed to escape the hold and the ground, standing up to his feet again. The smaller opponent looks a little winded by now, but Declan remains tall. The smaller, speedier opponent rushes toward him only to be taken down by a double leg takedown. Declan mounts him, and mercilessly hammers fists into his face. After a couple of shots, the smaller fighter was a bloody mess. Declan stopped and stood up, looking down to see if his opponent was going to give it up.

ON LOOKER TWO “Look at that. He’s fucked up already. He clearly doesn’t last long in a fight with someone who can throw like he can.”

ON LOOKER ONE “I mean… maybe you’re right. Maybe this scenario doesn’t benefit that guy, especially against someone like Red.”

Declan, or “Red”, stood over his opponent - who, as you guessed it - didn’t return to his feet. Declan brought up a bloody hand and brushed his hair to the back of his head, flattening it down and back. A grin crosses his lips as the same two exit-men cautiously approached to pull this fighter away too. Declan stepped away, his blue eyes looking around the circle. And that was when he saw someone approaching; someone not looking for a fight. Declan knew this because of the shirt and tie he wore. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, though. He casually stepped up to the bloody fighter with an envelope in hand. “Declan Hale, I assume?” He asked. Declan’s eyes narrowed on him, but he didn’t say a word.

“Right. I’ve been tasked to make sure that you know about your upcoming bout at the Factory on Monday. Here’s the information that you’ll need.” He handed Declan the envelope, which instantly became smeared with blood as Declan took it. “You’re fighting Dickie Watson, if you’re curious.” Declan’s reaction didn’t change. Just heavy breathing and a cold stare. It was sort of intimidating. Finally, he spoke though. “And you are?” - “Kieffer Stone.” Declan lowered his head to the envelope. “This Dickie Watson someone I need be worried about?” Declan asked, his eyes moving back to Kieffer.

“He’s not entirely new to the product. He dipped his toes in, in San Diego and a few other places. But to not be worried is something only fools would do.” Kieffer warned Declan. Declan scoffed, pushed the envelope back to Kieffer - right into his chest. Declan pushed past him, “I can’t wait to fuck this kid up. I’m going to break his goddamn face..”

Kieffer turned and watched Declan walk away toward the parked beater car in the background. After a moment he removed his phone from his pocket, found a name in his contacts and called. Placing the phone to his ear, “Found him. Don’t worry, Riley. I’ll watch him.”