Llorando

Drake did as he was told. He dropped the first two rounds, then came back to win the third round on the third minute of the fight. He dropped his opponent with an overhand right, as the crowd was booing his performance. Nobody saw that coming, appart from Mr Caceres and his daughter who managed quite a profit that night.

He was crying when he went back home. He was crying like a little child and he couldn't stop. He just wouldn't stop.

That night he went back to his old habbits. He drunk and drunk until he fell asleep. But his nightly visitors who he came to feel accustomed with did not visit him that night; neither the next one; nor the night after.


His dreams had deserted him. There were times when he wished they would seize to torment him. But in the few months that had passed prior to the last fight, he got used to his nightmares. Deep down inside, he wanted to dream, he wanted to find out more and more people who needed his help.

He felt like a man who had it all and now he had lost it.

And that's how Marcus Drake and his archenemy met.

The city of New Atlantica was about to live a rivalry  like none other it had lived before ...

But for the time being, my superhero was weeping bitterly as night fell, because the visitors that were haunting his dreams, would appear no more ...