Here is the inking to my character of Alcatraz. This was created for the 30 charterers challenge held every November. I created a back story where for this character named Alcatraz. He is a pit fighter who dreams of escaping the fights. The only way out he believes is to never lose. Eventually, the bosses will move him out of fighting and work for them outside as an enforcer.
This inking was done on the original pencils. On 9×12 2ply Bristol paper. I use a 102 nip tip pen.
Character Back Story: Like most fighters of the pit, nothing is known about Alcatraz’s past. What his real name is, where he was born, and who his family is. He ended up in the pit as most fighters do. At some point, he was abducted from his former life and injected into this dark underworld. The need is high for new recruits since fights often end with death. The life expectancy of a pit fighter is a little over a month. New recruits go through reconditions and rebuilding. First, their minds are erased, they become blank slates ready to be programmed to fight. To only care about fighting and winning. There are several managers (big bosses) that recruit, train, and house these fighters. Alcatraz fights for Boss Holiday.
Unlike most fighters in the pit who only dream of fighting and winning, Alcatraz dreams of escaping. To escape this violent world he knows he needs to survive the fights. This means he has to be smarter, tougher, stronger, and more lethal than his opponents. For him winning is living. Living for the next day, living to be free. He’s heard rumors that if you survive long enough, the “Boss” will take you out of the fights. Give you another job as one of his enforcers. Enforcing what, he doesn’t know. But he believes it has to be better than fighting every day to death.
When Alcatraz first started in the pits there was a top fighter named “Concrete Stain”, an undefeated fighter who had survived over a year. Then one day he was gone, not dead from a fight just gone. That’s when Alcatraz first heard the rumor. That elite fighters work for Boss Holiday on the outside, not just fighting for him in the pits. It might only be a dream but Alcatraz will keep surviving until he’s chosen until he’s free.
Notes: I mentioned Boss Holiday in Alcatraz’s back story. He’s a character I created for the first 30 Characters Challenge. A Rockabilly Crime lord who employs “Super-Villains”
Alcatraz Who is she? The woman glides in and out of sight. From the corner of his eyes, she’s gone when he turns. Mists in the light, neverending white. Every night it’s the same, never catching a clear view. Sometimes he remembers the raven hair, others the feline glitter of her hazel eyes. Tonight it was an innocent come-hither half smile. He felt like he could almost grasp her name, the sweet taste of it on his tongue. The closer she is ignites a feeling about who he was.
Alcatraz was taken away from the cool calming realm with the sounds of yelling. Two of his bunkmates were arguing over something. There were always echoes of fighting and arguments in the background. He didn’t know how long he’d been here in this nightmare underworld. Had it been weeks, months, years? He remembers the first day, his first memory. A towering overly muscular dark-skinned man slapped his face, it was a quick sharp stab “Your name’s Alcatraz! This is your life now. You fight, you live, you die. The longer you fight, the longer you live. Be ready, tonight you’re making your debut to the crowd!” He felt the sweaty smooth scalp of his head. He remembers thinking it felt too smooth, newly shaven, raw. This was before his head was covered with new scabs over old scars that gave it its now rocky texture. Since that day he’s been training and fighting. How many lives had he sniffed out in the pit? The faces of his victories blurred into shadows. Specters that created numbness in his mind. A deep hole of darkness in his soul. He was alive unlike his past opponents but trapped in waves of pain, blood, carnage, and death. It was only in his dreams that he felt free, remembering what life out of the pits might be like. She was his lifeline, the woman he visited in his safe harbor. Was she a loved one from his former life or maybe the final piece of his decomposed soul that had any hope of being redeemed? Before every fight, he sneaks away to the light. Reaching for the warmth only she could give.
“Alcatraz your up!” He slides off the blood-stained mattress of his squeaky bunk. Wraps his left forearm with the yellowed bandages he uses for simple armor. Lifts his helmet, a mismatched cage of rusted and dented lead pipes. Slips his head in it and places it on his weary shoulders. Grabs his signature battle chain with the muscle-ripping hook and mechanically walks toward the area’s inner doors. The vibrations of the spectator’s roar ripple through the floor up his body. Tonight he would fight again for the bosses, kill for them. His life was their plaything, but they would never completely have his soul. Every day she would free it in his dreams.
