I stand and look over the crowd to the other side. To the other way station, my rival’s, The Blood Queen. I see her, surrounded on all sides by friends, managers, fans. Huh! How does she cope? So much noise, so many people all saying the same thing; you’ll win, you always do. But unlike every other fight she’s been in, this time there’s doubt; doubt at her ability, at her strength.
Even I can see it, from all the way across the room. Their edgy movements, the twitching and the glances over the crowd to me, always to me. The stranger, rival, the girl they are all scared off but refuse to acknowledge, The Raven Queen.
I catch The Blood Queens eye and smile.
My practiced, evil, terrifying, out-for-blood smile; it’s given me the edge in many a fight. But not today. She doesn’t show any fear, she’s too good for that.
But I see it, in the corner of her eye, just a twinge of doubt. A flicker of fear, blink and you miss it. It’s quickly squashed by her ruthless mind. But, where something grows once, it can grow again, larger, stronger.
That’s all I need, just a flicker of uncertainty. It gives me an edge, gives me strength. Lets me know that even someone as powerful and undefeated as The Blood Queen, still fears the unknown, me.
I glance at the clock on the wall. Not long now, not long till the fight, the blood bath. To victory I hope--no, more than hope, know.
What I have, what is inside of me, this fire of desperation, it’s what makes me win. I have no fear. I allow no fear, I allow nothing. Nothing but one emotion, it fuels me, fills me to overflowing, makes my blood boil like nothing else.
Revenge.
It’s the only thing I have left, it’s what kept me alive when anyone else would have died. The pure undying need, desire, desperation for revenge, for my family, for my life, my people, my country. It’s why I fight.
When I fight, I let it all out; my anger, my rage. But mainly, my devastating hunger for revenge.
When I fight, that yearning, that fire, that power is released. Completely untethered uncontrollable--and it’s overwhelming. It destroys everything in its path, everyone.
That’s how I know I will win. I have too. It’s as simple as that. If I lose, I die. If I win, then the fun really begins, my life’s purpose can finally be realised.
The bell goes, calling the fighters to the ring. Ordering silence, the calm before the storm, the blood storm.
I move toward the ring, silently, gracefully. The air is thick with tension, so strong it nearly feels like I’m wading through pure, thick emotion.
I climb into the ring, my eyes on The Blood Queen. She goes in before me and stands tall in the lime light, the spotlight--my light, a voice inside me whispers. I shut it out, not my light, not anymore.
I stand in the shadow of the ring. Its where I belong now, the shadows, the dark places. It’s where I’m at home, where I desire, deserve, to be.
The ref is between us now outlining the rules, of which there are few. It’s MMA, Mixed Martial Arts, and almost anything goes. The only rules enforced are, 1. If you tap out the fight’s over, 2. If you pass out the fight’s over.
Not that I’ve ever needed them, I always win, and I will tonight.
The Blood Queen stretches then raises a fist into the air and screams. The crowd screams back; ready for mayhem, eager for blood.
It’s her tactic, her mind play. It’s so fierce, so strong, so real, it always works; but not on me. I’ve seen too much. Nothing she throws at me will faze me in the slightest.
I have always been my own worst enemy. Only my mind can destroy me and right now, right here, I’m in control.
The bell rings and the first round begins. Queen goes straight in for the kill. She wants to finish this quick, I don’t blame her, so do I.
I side step and counter all in one smooth movement. She blocks me instead of dodging, which is her first mistake. I may not look it, but my punches are strong and painful.
She flinches, not expecting that much strength and takes a step back. I dodge her weak counter. After that hit everything’s out of whack, and deliver a Brazilian kick; it starts out as a high kick then drops them in the legs when they’re not ready for it.
Queen stumbles but quickly regains her feet. I can see the anger in her now, the determination. I’ve humiliated her by making her faulter and she wants revenge.
She slips into her classic pose. I know what’s coming next. If I can weather the storm, I might just be able to finish this.
The Blood Queen has a signature move. She uses it mainly to finish fights once her opponent is worn out. It’s called the Bloody Death, and it’s brutal. But, unlike everyone else, I know it’s weakness.
Once, when a rival angered Queen she used the Bloody Death at the beginning of a match and nearly lost. If her opponent had been a little bit stronger, knew a little more, Queen would have lost. As it was, her opponent fell and Queen rose the victor. Never knowing just how close she came to defeat.
I’ve embarrassed The Blood Queen. Nearly knocked her down, blocked her and made her stumble. All in front of her fans, her friends, everyone.
Now she’s angry, angry enough to send caution to the wind and try the Bloody Death before I’m worn out enough. This time I will come out the victor, not her.
She starts and the storm begins. It pours. She pummels me. On every punch, every attack, I block and take a step back, as if the full fury of her blows is forcing me back. In reality, just as her fist connects, I take a step back. It softens the blow and makes it easier to stand under the flood, all the while looking as if I’m losing ground, falling back.
The storm’s starting to ease now, but I keep pretending. I brace my legs and fall to my knees; trying to shorten my height. Soften the blows even more, lessen the damage.
I see exhaustion on Queen’s face, then glee. She thinks she’s won; how wrong she is. The storm is pathetic now. It’s barely sprinkling.
Now, it’s my turn.
From my hunched down position, I let a high kick fly bracing my hands on the floor. Queen takes a step back, barely missing my foot. I follow through on the kick, and the momentum coupled with a push from my arms, raises me from the ground.
I start my own storm, a tornado. The Blood Queen has never been on the receiving end of something like this. I see fear in her eyes and I smile.
Punch after punch, followed by kicks and body shots. She is too slow to stop them all, to dodge them all.
After her storm she’s tired, too tired. She stumbles and I push harder. She falls. I ground her and get her in a head lock. Queen struggles to escape but it’s too late, she’s too tired now to pose a real threat. She’s too proud to tap out so I squeeze harder until she falls unconscious.
I rise and The Blood Queen, the favourite, the reigning champion stays prone on the floor. The ref looks at me with wide, shell-shocked eyes, I glare at him and it jolts him out of his stupor. He walks over to me and raises my arm in the air, “And the winner, the new champion of hell, . . . . is The Raven Queen!!”
There’s a shocked silence then suddenly all hell lets loose. They may have been expecting something different but, a fight’s a fight, the bloodier the better; and ours, well, ours was brutal.
I can feel the bruises forming as I walk out of the ring through the crowd of screaming addicts. I can feel the after effects of the Bloody Death, and I need to move quick.
If I hadn’t lessened the blows, I would be the one on the floor right now, not her. I watch as they drag the Blood Queen out of the arena, already forgotten, in readiness for the next fight, the next piece of madness.
I catch his eyes through the crowd and faulter.
What is he doing here? A boy like him doesn’t belong in a place like this, he’ll be eaten alive. I can’t believe it, it’s him, Julian, the boy from the youth club. How is he here?
Why, may be the bigger question. Did he recognise me? How much did he see? What in the world is someone like him doing in hell??
I’ve made it back to my waystation and there’s someone there, waiting for me. My heart jumps in my throat before I recognise Vampire.
He turns to me crowing, “You did it! You beat The Queen! Bahahaha,” His manic laughter barely reaches me through all the noise, “I have your winnings!” he says tantalizingly holding a dirty envelope up in the air. Before he can try any of his antics, I snatch it out of his fingers; he gives me a sour look.
“I was just about to give it to you.” He grumbles, I ignore him and count out the money, my mind elsewhere. It’s all there and I give Vampire his cut, he chortles, “We’re gonna live rich tonight, eh, Raven.”
I continue to ignore him and relief swamps me once he leaves. Its unlike me. I’ve just won, got everything I desire, ready to start my revenge; and all I can think about is him. How did he even find this place?
Is he here for me? Can he know?
How could he? My mind is whirling, I don’t know whether to leave or stay.
My plan was, once I got the money I would leave, vanish, disappear, never to return. The Raven Queen, champion and mystery, only a legend. But now, . . . . . now I want to find him, make sure he gets out of here alive.
But, why? I’ve shut out these feelings for years and they’ve never broken through before, so why now, why him!?
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