by Alex Fall
Air horn.
We both hopped to our feet and approached, this time wary of each others assaults. I could tell I was losing vision on my left eye because of swelling, but at least I could still see with both eyes. Blanch had a bloodied nose and swollen lip (significantly less damage than he should have because of his power), and something told me that he was guarding his left side a little bit, the tender spot that I hit in his chest earlier.
I sent two strikes and a kick his way. He blocked all three and caught me off guard with a fast jab. It gave him 0.4 seconds to react, which apparently is enough time to backhand me, knee me in the stomach, then slam both his elbows into my back once I was bent over. I hit the ground hard, intense constricting pain emanating from a rib in my back. I was worried it just got cracked. I tried to get away, but the fighter kneeled down and planted his knee in my throat. It's only a matter of seconds before I black out. Think, think! Can't think!
I raised my legs up to hook my heels under his arms, pulling him off of me. Thank god for flexibility. We stood together, so I decided to treat him like a conditioning pole, back when I was trying to toughen my shins. I wiped my face of sweat, then snap kicked him in the side of the knee. He blocked, so I did it again, and again, and a third time, working it into his motor nerve. After the the last hit, he stumbled back, now limping. I moved forward awkwardly on account of my leg, blocked two of his hits, and countered a third with a throat strike. That bought me a full second and a half to act. I pulled up a stance, and struck him in his tender spot as if I were trying to shatter a stone wall.
Blanch fell back against the ropes coughing. He tried to stand up straight, but he looked like he was in a lot of pain, no doubt a broken bone. Good...
I stumbled after him but got kicked back to the floor. This leg of mine is destroying my reaction time! I worked my way up back to my feet in time to duck a hit and throw my opponent over my head using his own momentum. Still, a stray hand caught my hair and yanked me down to the floor along with him. My back tightened again around my cracked rib and pain filled my mind. Suddenly, I got kicked in the stomach yet again, pulled to my feet, and beat in both my stomach and face. Finally, I tripped and fell away from the onslaught, gasping for breath. What am I doing?! I can fight better than this! I will not lose!
Using the ropes, I pulled myself back to standing, occasional dripping with bloody sweat. Using that same defensive boxing stance, my enemy approached. I held out a hand as if to say, 'Give me space.' He shrugged and waited. Not what I was hoping for, but I took the moment to catch my breath. I changed my hand into a thumbs up and that's when took the bait. Blanch grabbed my wrist, yanking me toward him. I shoved off of the ropes for added speed, and point struck in his broken rib, breaking it even further. For the first time, HIS body locked and I found an opening to start abusing his pressure points. Once he was freed, we traded blows over and over again, causing the crowd to rise and cheer again. I was more alert and faster than he was, so few of his attacks connected. But his power was exhausting to try and beat through. Any second now, the air horn will blast again, but I can't outlast this guy. I have to end this somehow.
A strong blow sent me spinning to all fours near a corner of the octagonal ring, slinging my blood across the mat. Oh god, my face hurts so much from that. I helped myself up using the pole, then barely countered a hit from my opponent by shoving him past me and into the post. Now is my chance! I dashed up one of the ropes for added height with what little energy remained, then came down on top his head with my elbow. My leg collapsed when I landed, but so did Blanch from the hit I just executed. I don't care if he's a tank, that HAD to hurt. I pulled myself back up into a wide, tired stance. He was still reeling. Sorry Blanch, but I need to win. I stumbled over to him and yanked his arm into a lock. Somehow his foot came around and hit me in the jaw, and then shoved me away. We both climbed to standing position. He hobbled forward to clobber me. Big mistake.
Right as he threw the first punch, the air horn went off. Ignoring the signal, I dodged and grabbed his wrist to stretch his arm out, then stepped underneath, drew an elbow, and planted it as hard as I could into his collarbone.
Crack!
A gasp rippled through the crowd as I broke my opponent's bone. While trying to suck his pain in, I twisted his arm around in an attempt to damage him further. He pulled away at last by falling onto his back. Jumping down, I attempted to pick up the fight yet again by continuing to beat him, but the referee jumped in yelling and struggling to pull me off. Even as I was pulled away, I landed a good kick to the damaged ribs as a parting gift. A man and woman rushed in to help separate us and assess Blanch's damage.
I clung to the ropes, exhausted and battered from the fight. Really though, it was no worse than when the Directorates had me. The referee stood and shouted at me, but Rod grabbed his shoulder to silence him. He raised an arm to get the crowds attention, though a few of the more extreme fans still whistled and applauded the outcome.
"Due to the fighter's inability to continue, I believe we have a winner," the leader announced. He held out a hand in my direction. "Sapphire Eyes!"
Applause broke out, but Rod didn't seem amused. Once out of sight of the crowd, Rod shot me a death glare. I snorted blood onto the ground and returned one of my own. What's his problem?
"Let me take a look at your nose."
"We have to check the bruises on you.”
"You desperately need to eat something."
"Are you in intense pain anywhere?"
The couple of medical personnel with me were spewing questions and demands to check my health. I struggled to stay awake in the clinic, but despite how tired and cold I felt, I was still getting irritated when they would reach over to check cuts or bruises or wipe away some blood. Must they pester me?
"Sapphire!"
Sharon ran up excitedly to meet me while holding something in a bag. The man to my right broke away from my small group to block the little girl from joining us.
"You can't come back here. You'll have to go elsewhere," the man said.
"No, I have to give this to-" she began to say.
"I'll give it to Sapphire."
A light shined into my face and blocked my view of the scene as a woman checked the condition of my eyes. I closed my eyes and batted the light away in irritation.
"No!" I heard Sharon shout. She dashed around the man and to my side. I pushed aside the medics and hopped off the bed to stand between the man and Sharon.
"She can stay," I said definitively. Turning to the child, I asked in a quieter tone, "What do you need?"
"Andrè said this was for you, but he tried to steal it," she said, pointing to the man.
"Liar! Better watch it, moindre débile!"
I stepped up to the man despite my physical discomfort. "Get out of this room, and don't threaten her again..."
The man shook his head and left. The other medics waited for me to finish before continuing their job.
"What did Andrè give you?"
Sharon held up the paper bag for me to look inside. It had two stacks of money. "He bet on you," she added.
Interesting. Now I'm wondering if my escort really did try to steal it.
The medics informed me that I had heavy bruising on my stomach, back, and face, that I cracked my nose (but didn't break it) and cracked one, possibly two ribs in my back, aside from cuts, swelling, and preexisting injuries, such as my leg.
As my diagnosis and treatment were nearing their end, Rod and his posse walked in to talk to me. My irritation rose.
"Hello champion," he began. "Turns out you were right about winning, which meant some cash for me. I noticed you seem to have a problem with the horn, but we'll work on that in the next match." He punctuated his statement with a wink.
"Next match?"
"Of course. I own you, remember?"
Yeah right! He's lucky my leg isn't at a hundred percent, or I'd jump up and eye gouge this idiot right here in front of everyone. "Sure..
.I need to eat."
"Ah yes, I did say something about starving you, didn't I? I tend to forget trivial things like that." He snapped a finger and whispered to one of his guys to allow me to eat wherever, but also something about keeping me in.
"There. Now you can eat as you see fit. Just don't gorge yourself."
"Someone like you wouldn't come down just to state the obvious," I stated.
One of his men whispered to another, "Told you." Rod smirked, then continued. "Look at you, all logical and stuff. I came here to inform you and order the medical staff to give you one week of rest before the next fight."
I locked a death glare on him, and Sharon said, "What?" in a distressed tone.
"If you're healthy enough to break bones after two weeks of healing, then I need to tone you down for the other fighter's benefit. That's all I needed." With that, he tugged on his lapels, turned, and left the room.
I'm going to kill him...
It felt like it took them hours to dress my damages and release me. I had Sharon go get me something light to eat, and I headed back to my room before anyone noticed that I "borrowed" another bottle of sleep meds. Upon getting to the room, I popped a couple pills to de-stress, changed into some simple and warm clothes, and laid down until Sharon arrived.
"Sapphire eyes?....Erin?"
The sound of Sharon's voice along with knocking at the door roused me from sleep that I didn't even know I fell into. I'm so sore. I'm so tired. I don't want to move.
By almost falling off, I got out of bed and reached over to unlock the door. Sharon was waiting on the other side with a box of protein bars, a box of candy bars, a box of oatmeal cream pies, a bottle of juice, and a bag of oranges. She scrambled in and shut the door behind her with her foot while I crawled back into bed. I couldn't lie on my back on account of my ribs, and my stomach was too bruised to lie comfortably that way (though I don't sleep on my stomach anyway.) I laid on my left side, facing the door, with not even enough energy to reach down and grab some food for myself.
"I thought you were hungry," said Sharon.
I lazily blinked in reply.
"Are you OK?"
Am I OK?! I just came out of a fight ring! Do I look OK to you? I would have replied with such an answer, but instead I simply lightly moaned.
"Oh...well here." She handed me a protein bar. All the protein bars were chocolate flavored. All the foods were sweets. This wasn't what I wanted...except for the oranges.
I mustered the energy to peel the wrapping off and eat. Pointing to the food pile, I said, "Junk."
Sharon seemed surprised that I noticed what she brought back. "I know, but I Mrs. Carrie never had food like this for me."
I pointed again. "Orange."
She went to hand me one of the fruits, but I let it roll out of my hand onto her blanket. "Peel it."
While she started peeling, she began to talk. "I like chocolate. But it's hard to find, and all the Greaters get it first so I never get any. I've never heard of Milky Ways either, so I grabbed a box too. Do you like candy?"
I laid in bed, thoroughly enjoying my orange, but by the time I finished it, Sharon's words were beginning to sound distant. She's awfully mouthy right now. I would shush her, but I think with the sleep pills in me, I'll be asleep soon anyway.
"One time I had a Payday, but it was a bit salty for me. Oh! Did you see all the Dwellers in the crowd when you were fighting? I got to sit by a girl who-"
The following words became inaudible as my senses shut down. The warmth of the blankets and the food in my stomach made me drowsy beyond what I could bear. I don't care what Sharon does, so long as it doesn't disturb my slumber.
Part 12
So comfortable...
My eyes cracked open to see that I was laying on my side in a huge, soft bed, with thick, fluffy blankets and pillows. It was hard to tell where I was on account of me not wanting to move, but I was definitely in a room with large, walk through openings on the wall I was looking at. They were much like thick, square stone columns that served as dividers for the wide doorways, with sheer material serving as curtains. The openings led outside to an ornate balcony overlooking the beautiful landscape of Ilavoan. To add to the wonder of the scene, Fake Arty wasn't around.
After examining my surroundings and noting the sounds surrounding me, the early morning light, cool temperature, and fatigue from the fight that followed me into my dreams convinced me to stay in my warm bed. I reached up and gently pulled on the blanket to bring it up to my neck and nestle down.
...Wait. What's on my finger?
An unknown texture and glint of silver caught my eye. I'm wearing a ring? I turned my hand over to examine it further, suddenly much more alert than when I first woke up. A flawless star sapphire stared back at me. This is a wedding band?!
An arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me in as a person next to me in bed stirred in their sleep. That person was not there a second ago! I literally screamed and fell out of bed onto the floor.
What in God's name?!
A shirtless Fake Arty stretched and silently snickered to himself, amused that he got a rise out of me. And...what am I wearing?!
This whole time I was in an off white nightie with lace edges. I would never wear anything like this! I feel so exposed! I feel so attention grabbing! This is so embarrassing! I scrambled to grab a nearby robe, also something that I would never wear, but at least I'm now covered up.
Fake Arty sat up, still chuckling. "Wow, that was awfully feminine of you."
"What the *cuss*?!" I shouted.
"Don't cuss," he said with a smile. He stood and stretched again. "Do you like the ring?"
I backed up onto the open, spacious balcony, shocked and humiliated. All I could do was repeat myself. "Wha...what the *cuss*?!"
"Erin, watch your tongue. No need to be angry."
"What's going on? Where are we?" I asked frantically.
"You won the fight. This is part of your reward. Isn't it amazingly non-violent here?" He raised an arm and pointed behind me. The balcony overlooked a large, pure lake, reflecting the pinks and blues of the morning sunrise, with the picturesque mountains beyond the lake in the background. But I didn't see any connection to what he was talking about.
"What does that have to do with anything?" I said, still frantic.
Fake Arty raised and showed me the back of his hand. There, on his ring finger, was a men's star sapphire ring, the masculine twin to my ring. I knitted my eyebrows while staring at his ring, trying to kick start my tired mind to make sense of this dream.
"Erin, we're married. This is our house."
"What?!"
"Isn't this what you always wanted?"
"What? No! It's not the same!"
"You're saying you don't like the idea?"
I HATE it when he does that! And I gave up on normal life so long ago! Why is he teasing me with this? Fake Arty stepped forward to get closer to me. Unfortunately for me, I backed up against a stone column.
"It's just a dream. Nobody here but you. Let yourself have something good for once," he reasoned.
He reached down slowly and grabbed my hands with a firm grasp. What is he doing?
"Arty, I'm not comfortable with this."
"That's the first time you've used my name in awhile. You know, I like this ring on you. It accents your eyes."
I tried to jerk my hands away but he kept his grip. My irritation started to simmer.
Smiling warmly again, Fake Arty continued. "Don't be angry please. Try acting on another emotion."
"No!"
"Please?"
How does he do that? Somehow his demeanor can melt through my irritation. I couldn't even give him a threatening look, in part because of the inconvenient circumstances. I didn't afford him a response.
He laid my hands on his chest and pulled me close with his. The romantic feel of everything and closeness between us served well to lock my analytical mind. The only part of my mind that functioned properl
y was the part of me that screamed for personal space.
"What kind of stuff do you like? Massages? Fancy dinners?"
"I, uh..."
"Snuggling in bed? Warm baths?
"I'm REALLY not comfortable-"
"Let yourself have something good. It's just a dream Erin..." he whispered as we grew closer. His hands slowly felt down my back and onto my midriff as he leaned in for a kiss.
Something inside me awoke. Something that I haven't ever experienced, even with all the Directorate training. This was something that the Directorates could never have shown me how to feel.
I felt aroused.
Oh.
My.
God.
What do I do now?...
Yes, I'll admit to myself, I've always craved a normal life. I've secretly held onto the idea of settling down, of not being...a program. And even though this isn't exactly how I imagined it, everything about my surroundings and current circumstances greatly appealed to the innocent half of my mind. And yet...I can't do it.
Right before Fake Arty came close enough to kiss, the screaming alert in my mind caused me to jerk my head away ever so slightly. I let a breath go that I wasn't even aware I was holding.
"It's not the same..." I whispered.
"It's ok, I understand," the fake whispered back after a pause. "At least you didn't act on anger."
Shrugging his hands off me, I backed away, eventually sitting and curling up on a large divan. Mentally, I was working myself out of being stunned.
Fake Arty in turn sat on the foot of the bed across from me. "You'll probably wake up soon." He chuckled to himself before speaking again. "Do you feel pretty now?"
My gaze went from staring into space to boring into his eyes. My irritation rebooted and I felt my face harden into a glare. That stupid smile is so annoying! And pretty?! I feel embarrassed! Before I could conjure up a comeback, the dream came to a close and I awoke back in my room with Sharon.
