Categories > Movies > Breakfast Club > Renegade

The Creatures of the Night

by TWBasketCase 0 reviews

John Bender: The man, the myth, the legend. The life of a criminal is not a glorious one, and sometimes we would do just about anything to turn back the hands of time. AU

Category: Breakfast Club - Rating: R - Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama - Warnings: [?] [V] - Published: 2007-01-27 - Updated: 2007-01-28 - 2804 words

Friday November 1, 1985

... ... ...

John sat on the front of Reggie's car and took a long swig of the beer that the other boy had given him. Reggie was the good shit; he and John had been friends since they were six years old. They had met in the school yard one day when a bunch of boys - boys who had grown up on the better side of town, and ended up popular football players - were beating on him and teasing him. John had stuck up for him, and with help from his other friends Roger and Ricky, had scared the other boys off.

Reggie's family was one of the few African American families in their neighborhood. The other boys had been picking on him because he was poor - unfairly labeling him with racist comments on the social class of his family. At six years old a kid was getting pounded on for the color of his skin.

That sort of shit never really bothered John; Reggie was a cool kid and that more than made up for what he looked like. As a matter of fact, Reggie was probably one of the coolest kids in their group. He was extremely tough and played a mean guitar for one of the best local metal bands in the Chicago area. All the boys in the gang respected him, and those that didn't ride with them steered clear of him. He grew well into his six foot three inch frame, and packed on two hundred pounds of mass. Reggie was a big boy and knew how to use his weight well.

He blared on the horn, not in the least scaring John. "Get your trashy ass off of my car!" He was seated in the front seat installing a new tape deck.

Cody and Tom sat on either side of Bender. He had met the two boys in high school and often ditched school with them. Cody gave him a goofy grin and nudged his ribs. "You heard the man...don't leave any skid marks on your way off either." Cody slid off of the hood of the car, taking a drag from his cigarette simultaneously. (1)

Cody was an interesting character. He was one hell of a partier, but he had an electrifying temper on him. Unlike the others, Cody was small. He only stood at five foot nine and was very lanky. Although he looked to be skinny, he packed a nasty left fist. Cody usually bore a goofy grin on his face, and was most often the joker of the group; he was also the youngest at sixteen. He was also the best at controlling himself, except of course when it came to drugs. He wasn't much for booze, or even weed, Cody had himself into the heavies. He liked his cocaine mighty fine.

Tom on the other hand was the exact opposite of Cody. Tom was pushing six feet and was well over two hundred pounds. Unlike Reggie, Tom wasn't all muscle, he was pretty overweight. He had two ears full of rings as well as one piercing the septum of his nose. He was well known for his colorful leather jackets and vests, as well as his steel toed eighteen holed combat boots. He wasn't exactly the smartest boy in the group, nor the fastest, but he was huge - and powerful. He was one of the more serious boys of the group.

The car horn blared once more as John smiled at Tom. Tom shook his head laughing and he too stepped away from the vehicle. John knew in the back of his mind that Reggie was getting pissed, but he just loved to rile the boy up.

He looked back over his shoulder and smirked at the boy; Reggie was getting livid. "I'm warning you, John boy, you better get your ass off my car." Reggie turned the ignition and the car roared to life.

John looked back at the rest of the gang and smirked. He shook his hair out of his face and took another drink of his beer. He looked back at Reggie and grinned devilishly. He turned the bottle slowly until it was upside down, draining the last bit of his beer on Reggie's windshield.

The bald boy glared and slammed on the gas pedal of his car. The rest of the gang scattered out of the way, as the car flew threw the standing group. John, on the other hand, held on for his dear life. He could hear Reggie laughing maniacally as he spun the wheel to the left and then slammed on the brakes. John frantically looked for something to grab on to, but the force was too much and he landed in a nearby pile of garbage bags.

He shook the cobwebs from his head and he could hear the laughter emanating from the group behind him. He scowled and brought himself to his feet. "What the fuck was that for?"

Reggie crossed his arms as he stood from his car. "You fuck up my car I fuck you up, mother fucker!"

He could hear more laughs coming from the other boys. He looked up and glared at them. "Shut the fuck up!" The only one that hadn't been laughing was Roger.

Roger Lukster was John's best friend. Of all the boys in their ever growing group, Roger was the one that he depended on and trusted. They had known each other the longest, and had stuck together through thick and thin. He was always there for him when he needed help, and bailed him out on more than one occasion. Roger was easily the good kid of the group. He was quiet and liked to observe more often than participate. That wasn't to say the kid was boring - he and John had their fair share of crazy times together - but when the group was together as a whole, Roger was more of a background character.

The group of boys before him - Reggie, Roger, Cody, and Tom - were considered the 'younger boys' of their gang; they still attended high school. Bender was the oldest of this group at eighteen. Usually - because he was the oldest - they tended to follow and listen to him - that and because John's older brother was their unofficial leader. When they were at school it was safest to take John's lead because he had the best head on his shoulders.

Which was why the boys had stopped laughing; Reggie smirked at John. "Don't get all pissy on me, boy. You deserved that shit and you know it." John rolled his eyes and dusted off his pants. He dug into his back pocket and quickly spun out his switchblade. Reggie's eyes twinkled in challenge and he smiled. "Whattya thinkin', John boy?"

John said nothing and only pulled his arm back and threw the blade directly at the darker boy. A quick flash of panic passed over the boy's face and he whipped his leg up and out of the way. The blade spun and smacked directly into the tire of the car. Fortunately for both boys' sakes, the handle of the blade was what made contact with the tire rubber, leaving it undamaged.

The small group of boys once again erupted into a fit of laughter.

"You crazy son of a bitch! What the hell is wrong with you?" Reggie was yelling at John and throwing his arms around as he spoke. John only smirked and went to retrieve his knife. Reggie glared at him. "I outta kick your sorry ass."

John shrugged and motioned to Roger. "Well you keep on thinkin' that. Let's go, Lux."

Roger waived off the other boys and jogged to Bender's side. The two boys turned their backs on the others and walked off towards the east side of town - towards home.

... ... ...

"Are you okay, man?" Roger looked up at him with a shivering chin and a pink nose. Chicago weather wasn't exactly the warmest in November.

Bender shrugged it off. "Why wouldn't I be? Reggie is a douche bag." In all honesty, his left knee and elbow were hurting him; he had landed on his left side and it had taken the brunt end of the fall. He wasn't hurt to the point of crying, but he wasn't about to admit any sign of weakness...even if it was only to Roger.

The blonde haired boy just smiled at him. "Are you sure about that? I could have sworn to god that I saw you sniffling for a minute there." He pulled his bomber jacket closer to his body and brought his hands inside his sleeves.

John rolled his eyes and gave his friend a playful shove. "So you wanna hang out tonight?"

Roger shoved. "Yeah, and I'll be grabbing your couch 'til tomorrow too." He didn't need to go into details. The only kid on the block that had a worse dad then John was Roger. John didn't know exactly what the fuck that man was on, but it was a lot more fucked up than his own old man when he got drunk. He knew that Roger had a tough time at home with his parents - he was also an only child - and that he didn't like to talk about it, so Bender never pressed him. He just gave up his couch in the basement without hesitation.

John only nodded in response and hopped up the stairs of the front porch of the Bender house. It was still before four o'clock, so his parents wouldn't be home yet. He would be lucky if Janice, his younger sister, was home. The girl didn't usually make it home until after ten o'clock on a Friday night. However, he knew there would be one person home waiting for him.

James Bender was the oldest of the three siblings. Like his younger brother, they both got their looks from their father; he wore his hair long - not quite as long as his brother's, in a little more of a spiky, messy look. He had large brown eyes and matching colored hair. He only had about an inch in height on his brother, and had a strong frame. (2)

James was quite the character of the gang. He wasn't the oldest - he had just turned twenty, and Jake, his friend, was twenty two; however, he was unofficially the leader of the gang. He was the only one with a job outside of drug dealing, and he had a lot more street smarts than the other boys. He had the contacts, the products, and the brains.

James was someone all the boys had looked up to, not just for who he was, but because he was like a brother to all of them. He took a lot of responsibility for the boys and wasn't afraid to deck them if they needed it. James was like the concrete of the group.

John pulled open the ratty screen door to the two-storey home and let the door slam behind them. The living room was quite messy; magazines and newspapers littered the coffee table, and their father's breakfast dishes were still sitting out on top of them. A few laundry baskets were piled underneath of the ironing board, and the vacuum was pulled out across the floor. It wasn't a rare occurrence that the Bender household was a fucking mess.

The only noise that was produced from the house was that coming from the basement. He could hear laughter as well as the blasting music of Metallica's 'Ride the Lightening'. Bender threw the basement door open and took the stairs down in two's. When he reached the bottom, he smiled. "Ricky! You're out!"

The older blue haired boy grinned at him and stood up to shake his hand. Ricky was a long time friend of the boys; He was James' age and had met him in kindergarten. For the last two months Ricky had been in the cooler for breaching his probation orders. John didn't think he was supposed to out so soon.

A smile spread across his face. "Good behavior."

John rolled his eyes as Ricky moved on to shake Roger's hand as well. John smirked at him. "Were you suckin' the warden off or somethin'?"

Ricky gave him a hard stare with his icy blue eyes. "Watch your mouth there, kiddo."

John rolled his eyes at the boy's threat. To people who didn't know him, Ricky looked like an intimidating and menacing punk rocker. He wasn't very tall, only about five foot nine and a half, but he had cold eyes and a tough disposition. However, the people who hung around him knew better. That wasn't to say that the boy couldn't fight, but he just took him a lot to get to that point. He was by far the most easy going of the group, and was more into sex and drinking, and how he did both. Ricky brought around a new girl around every week and was drunk a couple days during that time. It would be easy to describe him as a ladies man with his looks and his charming personality. He was also a very loyal guy who would never think twice about backstabbing anyone. It was also almost impossible to be angry with him.

"Sit down, guys." James spoke with an amused tone as he swiped his tongue across a Zig-Zag paper (3). The boys took their seats around a large, circular, brown table. The last boy to say anything was the remaining boy of the group, Jake Porter. He was weighing up dime bags and putting them into neat piles.

"You gotta deal goin' down tomorrow?" Roger asked as he accepted a lit joint from James. The black haired boy regarded him for a moment before speaking.

"We do have one going on tomorrow...but this shit is just to bring over to the club." He said no more and continued what he was doing. Jake wasn't exactly one of Bender's favorite people; in fact, Bender would readily admit that he didn't like him. Jake was part of the gang because he was friends with Ricky and James. He didn't like the younger boys around too much, and would outwardly say so. He was always shifty eyed and was quick to blame other people for his problems and mistakes. Bender had a hard time trusting him, and even conversing with him, but he tolerated the hard headed man for his brother.

John accepted the joint from Roger and eyed James carefully. "What is going down tomorrow then?"

"Huge deal," James started as he began snipping up another bud. "I gotta bring a quarter pound of green, four ounces of hash, and two ounces of lube." John's eyebrows perked at that.

"New customer?" He passed the joint to his right and kept his eyes on his brother. His brother was pretty much the 'go-to guy' for dope - amongst other things - in Shermer. John was used to watching his older brother doing the risky business - he got the small stuff like dealing at school - but this was pretty big, even for him.

"Not necessarily," James said as he licked another paper and brought a new joint to his lips. "I'm doing a trade off."

Roger shot John a look and then returned his gaze to James. "For what?"

Jake cut in and glared. "Don't you kids be worrying about that...we don't need you screwin' it up for us."

"Fuck you, Jake." Bender spat.

"Hey!" James cut both boys off. "Jake take it easy...Johnny, you'll see what happens tomorrow. I'm meeting with someone big and I wanna keep it on the down low...that's all."

Ricky looked between all four boys confusedly. "Okay...I don't wanna sound like a fuck, but what's going on tomorrow?"

James snorted at his friend. "Metal show."

Ricky opened his mouth in an 'ah' motion and nodded. "Well that explains a bit more then..."

John smiled at the blue haired boy. "You been gone too long man." Roger slapped the boy on the back as well.

"It's good to have you back, bro."

Ricky smiled at the others. "And it is good to be back, gentlemen. Now we can get back to business," He stared at Jack and perked an eyebrow, "together...and fuck shit up!"

The group of boys laughed as they sat in the cloud of smoke. John knew the next day was going to be big for his brother. The metal show was over in Chicago, so he was probably meeting up with one of the bigger boys from there. Shermer wasn't much for the drug game, but Chicago - well Chicago was a whole other ball game.

Now that they were all together again though, things would start rolling.

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