Romans & histoires Reality Fights

You could die at the annual masquerade ball. You could die if you were present when the police succeeded in raiding an illegal property or business. You could die in a never-ending feud between rival mafias. You could even die by disrespecting a Don or Boss. Even with so many possibilities I had honestly never given much thought to how I would die. I hadn’t even thought about the when or where. What I did know was that if I was going to go down under such circumstances, I’d rather not without putting up a fight. My father raised me better than that. For me, it would always be to kill first and die last.

I looked at him. I realised he never told me what we’re doing at some sort of hiking trail. Fuck this is so much work, why can’t he just take me eating like normal men do. I had an intense workout with my self-defence trainer last night. I’ve got fucking bruises on my arms and legs... The bruises on my ribs don’t look at bad as the rest of my body. Beck knows about my classes so he wasn’t surprised when I came home looking like I lost a fucking fight.

I asked, raising my left eyebrow. "I do…" he admitted. "But there are no rules in the fight. You can kill him if you want to." A slow, dark smile spread across my face. Now that sounded interesting. "So it's gonna be bloody?" I asked. "Yes," Ox replied immediately. "Exactly the kind of fight you enjoy. No rules." "When is the fighting show?" I asked. "Friday night." "Count me in," I said with a dark smirk. As long as blood is involved… you can always count Logan Hellfire in.

Then she yanked her arm back and said, low enough that only I could hear: “You really want to do this here.” “Yes,” I said. Out loud. “Actually.” I took the beanie out of her other hand. She grabbed for it back. I don’t remember deciding to scream. I just did. And then I lunged. What followed was not clean or quiet or anything like the confrontation I’d been playing out in my head since September. Her nails caught my cheek, a fast bright sting. My hand found a fistful of her hair and I pulled with everything I had, all of it, all the months of it, and Tahni Haughton screamed.

THE UNDERGROUND The warehouse in Brooklyn's industrial district looked abandoned from the outside....broken windows, graffitied walls, chain-link fence surrounding the property. But on Friday nights, it became something else entirely. The Underground. New York's most exclusive illegal fight club. Cash bets only. No rules except: fight ends when someone taps out, passes out, or doesn't get up. Medical staff on site. Fighters sign waivers. What happens in The Underground stays in The Underground. And tonight, Cassandra "Cass" Reeves was fighting for the first time in the main event.

The Ref walked in the middle, looking from one girl to the next, then he spoke. “Alright, you know the rules. There are no rules. If you fight with weapons, then there will be no shifting. If you shift, that is all on your own. It will be a fight to the death. Are you ready, women?” They both nodded; they didn't look away from each other. You could smell the aura coming from Kayla; she was the queen now. They haven't done the ceremony just yet, but to everyone else, she was the queen. “Alright then, let's get this going,” he raised his arms, slamming them down. He hurried to get out of the way. Reese didn't waste any time. She didn't get into a fighting stance; she didn't even circle Kayla.

All I could do was pray for a miracle. If Leviathan were to tell them truth, I was done for. I wouldn't be able to show my face again to my parents. ############

Donna suddenly remembered Zara's flawless face, causing her confidence to falter slightly. Quickly changing the subject, she said, "The important information I mentioned involves an underground fight club in Fantadio. It's about the lives of thousands of people." Felix was puzzled. Underground fight clubs were everywhere in Dragonia, shady and hidden from the public eye. Sure, deaths happened occasionally, but thousands of lives at stake sounded absurd. Donna continued, "The fight club I'm talking about isn't like the ones you've heard of. This one involves human fighters going up against Malevolent Phantoms."

Elena’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and daring, and she shoved her hair out of her face before landing another punch on the guy with the limping leg. I was already stepping in, though I couldn’t tell if I was about to break it up or just… be backup. The thing about bar fights? They’re a lot messier than in movies. In movies, there’s a dramatic slow-mo punch, someone gets thrown across a pool table, and the hero walks away without a scratch. In real life? There’s a lot more shouting, tripping over stools, and the constant fear that you’re going to step in something sticky you really don’t want to identify.

Even so, they each held looks of varying levels of concern. Rachel spoke first. “He wants to… box?” I nodded gravely. Maria and Megan looked at each other. “Is it like, some kind of league for high society members or something?” Rachel asked. “He wouldn’t actually go up against, like, guys who do physical labor or something, right?” “I don’t know,” I admitted. “He didn’t say the name of the league.” “Some of those fights are really brutal,” Megan chimed in. “Rachel and I have gone before. It’s not always a pretty sight. Even when the fight is balanced, the guys walk away bruised and bloody.”