Broken, Scared, and in Love
A Fight Worth WinningHis right fist came clashing onto my own, an easy block. His left then moved in an instant, nearly hitting my stomach. Luckily, I was quick enough to move my left hand to block his hit. He was moving faster as I got slower by the second, as if he was feeding off of my energy. I needed to think
quick, I then realized I could use my block as an attack. I held tight onto his hands, smacked my foot
against the ground in a pivot, and threw him across the room. He flew airborne, his back hitting flat
against the wall, shattering the concrete like glass. He stayed for a moment, trusting he was
unconscious, I relaxed. I was breathing heavily. I had been training for months, hoping I was strong enough to finally beat him. I could now say it was over, I had won. Suddenly, I heard a shuffle. I looked up to see he was gone. Confusion settled in. Where was he? I then heard a crackling in the ground.
“No!” I yelled, realizing I had been tricked into becoming the victim of an ambush. I quickly jumped into a levitation. Barely missing his grip as he sprung out of the ground. I flew back to the floor. I should have known he wouldn't go down so easily. I was a fool. Yet, now wasn’t the time to self-pity. I had a fight to finish. I ran over, not planning anything, just hoping for the best. He swung at me quickly, it was enough for me to assume he had definitely been planning his next attack. In reaction, I hit the ground, sliding straight through the slight opening in his legs. I quickly flipped into levitation, anything to get away from him. I then grasped his ankle with the end of my hair, throwing him into a familiar shatter on the wall. He shot back, faster than light. Before I could visualize my surroundings, I was being thrown. First up, but then I saw a glimpse of him. He jumped into the air and kicked me down, three feet back into the ground. I lay there, in an unimaginable pain. I heard his footsteps slowly approaching. This is it, when I thought I had won, failure slapped me back. I opened my eyes just a crack to see him standing above me. He reached down, gripping my hair within his tight, leather gloves. Pulling me up with a devilish smile. I couldn't give up, I had put into too much work just to give up now. I quickly turned and sunk my teeth into his wrist. Latching on, I yanked out a chunk of his arm. I looked back at him with a glare, spitting out his blood and bits of torn muscle. His face swelled in pain, but he refused to make a noise. I felt his hand tightly grasp my throat. I spat left over flesh and blood into his face. I knew I was going to lose, but I refused losing without splattering his blood everywhere. His grasp was getting tighter; his signature move. I felt my blood drip from my neck.
“Finish her!” The announcer said with impatience. He squeezed. Tearing my throat out and throwing
my remains onto the floor like a broken toy.
The announcer came on once more, “Fatality!”