I walked onto the ice wearing my hockey equipment and my jersey. On the back of my jersey was my number, 28, and my name, Domi. Tie Domi. I was also known as the enforcer. I played right wing on the Toronto Maple Leafs.
I stood in front of our team captain, Mats Sundin. An angry and nefarious look took over his face. I glanced behind him saw Jonas Hogland, Steve Thomas and Sergei Berezin, who are my teammates, or ex-team mates. My ex-coach, Pat Quinn stood in the opposing team bench with a stern look in his eyes, as usual, but this look had something malicious lurking inside. I glanced over at my corner and only saw two men there. One was a man that I had never expected to save my life, but he did. Don Cherry saved my life. The other was my opposition player, Michael Peca, who also saved my life. He played for the Buffalo Sabers but tonight he was playing for me. And now my teammates stood against me and my friend and rival stood with me. I never expected it.
It all started the day of the game against the Buffalo Sabers. I was late getting to the Air Canada Center. I ran up to the locker room and barged in, a little out of breath. Expecting to see everyone getting ready, I looked up. I saw no one, though. I searched around the Leafs locker room and found no one. I walked out to the main arena. I couldn’t see a single player or fan! I looked at my watch and saw that it was already 6:45. The game was supposed to start at 7. Everyone should be here and all the seats should have been full, yet it remained empty.
I walked toward the visitor’s locker room, which would belong to the Sabers for tonight. I walked in and saw no one. I continued to wander around trying to find anyone I could. I walked into the shower room and noticed something red seeping out from underneath one of the stalls. I opened the stall door and a scalding rush of burning water came pouring down at me. Even through all my hockey equipment it scorched my legs. I winced at the pain and backed away from the rush of water. The water, which was partly red, drained and I stepped forward to investigate.
The stall was steamy but I could see a small lump in one corner of the stall. As the steam cleared it became clearer. I saw Kevyn Adams! My leaf friend was lying in a lump with his burnt skin peeling off and flaking to the ground. His eyes were opened but no life inhabited them. Dark, hot blood trickled from his mouth and dripped down his lips. I stood over Kevyn, unable to move. I watched his limp body lay, completely still, and I watched the blood stain his white, home jersey.
I felt a hand touch my shoulder and I quickly tried to turn around, but I was held to tight.
“Who are you?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“You call me a wimp, you call everyone a wimp.” A strong, raspy voice said. His grip tightened around my neck. “But no one has ever tested you.
“What do you want?” I questioned, agitated. “What does Kevyn have to do with me? Why did you kill him?” I gazed down at the limp body. His face turned white and blood seemed to stop flowing down his lips.
The man suddenly released me and I almost collapsed. I breathed the fresh air and turned around. I saw Michael Peca, from the Buffalo Sabers staring out the open locker room door. I looked in the direction of the door and saw the man running out the door. He was dressed in hockey gear with a T-shirt on top and a black ski mask covered his face. He disappeared through the door. I ran to the door to try to catch him but he wasn’t there anymore.
“Where did he go?” I asked Michael, staring down the long corridor and finding no possible escape for the man.
“What happened?” Michael said glancing at Kevyn and feeling his stomach lurk.
“I came to the game and found no one. I searched around and came in hear. I found Kevyn,” I felt a chill down my back, “And you saw the rest.”
“Who was that?”
“If I knew wouldn’t I be doing more than just standing here?” I said, irritated. I looked at Michael and saw a melancholy look on his face. “I’m sorry, Michael. I didn’t mean to snap.” I said, still a little annoyed, but more sad and angry at the man.
“What should we do?” Michael asked looking around nervously.
“I am going to investigate, you go find your teammates.”
“I can’t. I came hear, same as you, and found no one.”
I thought for a moment. Who could have killed Kevyn and who could have done it so brutally and where was everyone? A thousand questions flooded my head. I picked up the phone that was hanging on the wall. I heard a dial tone, then a click and the phone went dead.
“It’s dead.” I announced to Michael.
“Come on. Follow me.” I hated to listen to orders but under these circumstances I thought it would be a good idea to listen to Michael.
Michael walked out to the main arena. Just as we got to the rink, I heard a shrill, spine tingling scream. I turned around and saw someone, I couldn’t see who, tumbling down the very top of the seats at the ACC. Frozen from fear, I watched him tumble in pain, hearing his neck and ribs crack. His arm got stuck in between two seats but the force of his fall pulled his hand out and I heard it rip. I watched part of his arm remain in between the two seats.
I didn’t, couldn’t, blink. My eyes went dry and I felt hot tears roll down my cheeks. I saw the boy’s head hit one of the seats and the tumultuous crack seemed to awaken me. I began to run up, jumping over the seats. I couldn’t exactly see anything but I knew that I had to save him. I felt the hair on my arms stand up every time I heard a crack or a cry of agony.
As I finally reached the boy, I stuck my arms out to catch him. He hit me limply at full force and I stumbled to catch myself. I quickly sat down in one of the seats. I turned the bloody, torn apart, body over in my arms and gasped in horror as I looked at his blue, blood stained face. Mike Johnson, another Maple Leaf, lay almost dead in my arms. I felt his stifled, cold breath on my arm. I snuggled him close to my heart and stared at his young face.
“Tie,” a small dying voice from deep inside Mike said. I glared down at him with hope in my eyes. His eyes opened slowly and I saw his extra small pupil surrounded by red veins.
“Who did this to you, Mike?” I said as I felt tears burn my cheeks.
“Mats…” His voice trailed of into nothingness and I felt his heart stop suddenly as his juvenile soul was stolen. The lights of the ACC began to flash on and off. Then they flashed off and remained off.
I stood up and strained my eyes to see around me. Where was Michael, I thought. I, slowly, started to walk down toward the rink, jumping over the chairs. When I reached the bottom I tried to see through the darkness which fell over me.
“Michael?” I questioned to thin air. “Are you there, Mike? Mike?” I began to panic, walking around with my hands out in front of me. I continued to yell out Mike’s name. In a way I felt like I was calling out to Mike Peca and Mike Johnson. I was all alone and I was scared. I had never felt like that before but I couldn’t help it.
But no one has ever tested you.
The man’s voice repeated over and over in my head and it seemed to express how I felt exactly. I felt like someone was testing me to see if I was really worthy of the title, ‘the Enforcer.’ I was, though. If anyone saw two of his closest friends dead and ended up in an empty arena, unsure if he was completely alone, they would be scared, too. And that was precisely my predicament.
I continued to look for Mike, but found someone else. I walked into the Leafs locker room again and found Don Cherry. He stood over a sheet that covered something big. The sheet was black but I could see dark red stains. Not knowing what to say to Don or how to receive an explanation about the sheet, I bent down and lifted the sheet up. I peered under it and saw two bodies lying limp across each other. Glass covered one face and blood streamed down it so I couldn’t recognize it. The blood was still fresh and I felt the putrid aroma enter my nose.
My stomach lurked and I ran to one of the stalls. I let out everything that was in my stomach. Than, with the sour piquancy that stung my mouth, I went back to question Don Cherry. When I walked up to him I noticed that his eyes were closed and small teardrops were slowly creeping down his cheek.
“What happened?” I asked, my voice softened feeling a kindred spirit arising for the moment.
“Two men,” He said with his eyes still closed and his arms dangled lethargically by his side. “They came out of no where and I didn’t know what to do. They shot the boards and the glass broke. It shattered down with complete intensity and knocked into their faces. They died, slowly and painfully. Then the murderers ran, as if I wasn’t worth the extra years in jail. It was awful.” He turned away and clasped his tight.
“It’s okay.” I said putting a hand on his shoulder. “Who were they?”
“Nik Antropov and Garry Valk.” More tears escaped Don’s eyes.
“What?” I gasped and felt my heart skip a beat. The youngest boy on our team and one of the oldest. How could anyone be so cruel? The poor, puerile child was murdered maliciously as a rookie, before anyone even had a chance to know him. In his first year in Canada he learned how awful and cruel some Canadian’s truly are.
What kind of sick mind would do this to anyone? Garry Valk who had only been with us for 2 years! These would have been his last years in the NHL. But his last chance to make a last impression was abruptly cut short.
“We have to stop this.” I said grimly. “And I think I know who did this.”
Sucking a breath of clean air in, I bent down and lifted the sheet again. I smelled the foul odor but controlled my stomach. I looked down at the bodies that hugged eachother. Don looked away unable to stand the sight.
I searched through out the bodies and finally found a clue that proved me right. It was a small gold chain that Mats Sundin always wore around his neck. I had never seen him without it but lately it had been falling off. Surely Mats didn’t fail me, he wore the chain, and the chain didn’t fail me, it fell off.
I suddenly realized that Mats Sundin, the captain of the Leafs, was the killer. I wouldn’t have believed it but Mike had said, ‘Mats’ so it had to be true. But he had an apprentice. More than one. Who were they?
I stepped out to the arena wearing my hockey equipment and Leafs jersey. I held my stick tightly in my right hand and wore my helmet and skates.
“Okay, Mats.” I yelled out in no direction in particular. The lights went on. “I don’t know what you want but I intend to find out. You think you deserve to wear the ‘C’ on your jersey after everything you did? I think I deserve it and I will challenge you for it.”
Don Cherry came running out of the locker room holding Michael Peca with his hands tightly behind his back.
“He must be working for Mats.” Don said.
“No,” I said with a grin growing on my face in spite of everything that happened. “He’s good. He’s my ally.”
“Mats Sundin is behind this.” Mike said.
“We know. But it’s over.” I yelled, “Mats, come play me for the ‘C’ and I will beat you. Unless you are chicken?”
“I’m not!” A strong voice that resembled Mats boomed from all directions. Mats skated from the other side of the rink with Sergei Berezin, Steve Thomas and Jonas Hogland following behind him.
“Can you challenge us?” Mats asked me.
“I only want to beat you.” I stated.
“Don’t be so confident. If you loose, you will loose another dear friend.”
Mats looked in the direction of the opposition bench. Pat Quinn stood with a gun pointed to Glenn Healy’s, our teams back-up goalie, head.
“Coach, how could you do all this.” I held in tears of resentment, “To Mike and Nik and Garry and Kevyn. Didn’t you care?”
“No.” Coach Quinn said abruptly.
I felt my face tighten in anger. “Fine, than I can’t care either.”
Mats and I faced off at center ice. He won the draw and skated around with the puck. I tried to check him and pick off the puck but he swerved and scored.
“You loose.” Coach Quinn said and, before I could protest, he shot Glenn. He fell to the floor and out of sight.
Enraged, I charged at the nearest player. I couldn’t see where I was going, but I didn’t care. I hit Sergei at full force. I stood up and realized that he had passed out. I looked at Don to see if he knew what we should do next. I only saw Don. Mike had disappeared.
I turned around and saw Mats charging at me the way I had just charged at Sergei. He hit me with amazing power and pain erected my body. I fell to the ground.
What was happening? I thought.
I heard the ringing of sirens all around me and saw flashing lights.
“It’s okay, sir.” I heard an unknown voice that seemed so far away.
I was going to be okay, I thought. But what about everyone else? Had they gotten Mats and Steve and Jonas and Pat and Sergei? Where were they?
“What is going to happen to the killers?” I heard another voice faintly.
“Jail for life, I suppose.” Another voice replied.
By: Alia Maiter.
