There was a lot that can be said about the way someone fights, just by looking at their feet. Do they jump around a lot? Expect quick, punishing jabs. Do they keep their feet flat on the ground? Usually signals powerful punches that they put their whole weight behind. And as luck would have it, I found myself facing a 130Kg Orc whose feet were so flat against the ground, I doubt a dumptruck could topple them.<br/><br/>The Pit, is what most people called it. It doesn’t have an official name, but it was apt. If I had to guess, it was probably the start of the construction of some bunker of sorts. God only knows why someone would try and build a bunker in this part of town, but someone tried. Tried, being the operator here, as they apparently didn’t get beyond the ‘dig a big-ass hole in the ground’ phase. They apparently left without finishing.<br/><br/>Anyway, as I was saying… The Pit. A hunched Kappa by the name of Harry seized the construction site and turned it into an arena of sorts. There was nothing fancy about it, a hole in the ground, and two people duking it out. People could fight for a chance to win some price money, or bet on fighters. There were no regulations here, anybody could enter the ring and be matched up with anybody. No fancy weight classes here. Harry and his crew did keep a tight reign over the matchups, no point in pitting an almost starved newbie against a hulking troll, there was no profit in that. But pitting a Darksider against something nearly twice its weight in muscle alone? People paid good bucks to see my kind get beat up. In fancier terms they liked to call us harbingers of doom. Personally I think that sounds fucking awesome. I should get that tattooed on my back… But generally speaking, people hate my kind and liked to blame them for bad stuff happening.<br/><br/>Can’t say I blame ‘em, we’re not exactly the easiest transhumans to work with. I mean sure, some of us are normal… I like to think I’m pretty normal considering the fucked up world we live in, but it’s hard to convince others of this when the news oh so gleefully liked to report about Darksiders massacring yet another small community, simply because they probably couldn’t take it anymore and gave into the whispers. Not to alarm you, but I’ve thought about it. You know, just giving in. Closing my eyes and letting the void take me. But that’d be a coward’s way out. Besides, I still got plenty of asses to kick.<br/><br/>Speaking of asses getting kicked, mine was starting to turn pretty bruised. Of course this wasn’t a fair match, Harry never gave me a fair match. Hell, I could already imagine him, cheerfully shouting around “Ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between! Come one, come all, and watch this despicable Darksider get her nose reworked!”<br/>Did I mention that Harry is a dick?<br/><br/>Still, it wasn’t a complete one sided slaughter. I’m tough and fast, I can roll with some punches. Feint a left, strike with right. Dodge the counter, and maneuver to his left. It was his right hook that alarmed me the most, the guy had enough power in that arm to probably punch through a wall, let alone my face. So I had to get in close, prevent him from putting power behind those minivans he dared call fists. It was a uphill battle though, this was already my third fight this evening, and I haven’t slept in three days. It was only a matter of time before he would clock me good.<br/>And then came the chill, like a drop of icy water running down my spine.<br/><br/><i>“AAAaaaAaAngEeeeEEelll…”</i><br/><br/>Oh no, not now.<br/><br/><i>“AaaAangel… Why Do we NevER plAY anyMOre?”</i><br/><br/>It’s voice was sickening, though not nearly as sickening as the creeping feeling deep in my stomach. I knew this<i>thing</i>well. Too well, if I had any say in it. You often hear people talk about having inner demons, but I doubt few can take that literally.<br/><br/>Ignore it, focus on the fight. Block the punch, ignore the pain. Strike for his abdomen.<br/><br/><i>“HahAhaHAHAhaHaHA… LeT us OUT anD we’Ll RIP! And TEAR! anD BREAK! HahahAHAhAha… Let Us play, AaaAAngel…”</i><br/><br/>Half a second is an eternity in any sport, and I’d argue even more crucial in a fight. I messed up, trying to hard to ignore the voices. The Orc eagerly takes advantage of this. His fist strikes me in my shoulder with enough force to push me out of balance. Shit. His follow up strikes quick, knocking me in my abdomen. Keep those arms up, don’t let him strike your head. But it was already a lost battle. I was forced into a defensive position, and like a wooden gate trying to hold down a battle tank, it was only a matter of time before I’d splinter.<br/><br/>And there it came, the punch that would end the fight. Like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a speeding car, I was powerless to do anything. And much like a speeding car, so did the punch send me flying through the air. It was nothing short of a miracle that he hadn’t decapitated me.<br/><br/>And as I came to a skidding halt, my back prepped against the wall, I could see<i>it</i>. It was a disgusting figure. Lanky, tall, and with skin that just didn’t seem to fit right. Its form shifted, like it couldn’t quite figure out how to fit into this world. It’s figure looked like it tried to emulate a human appearance, but failed to get the measurements down correctly. Its arms and legs were far too long for its torso, giving it a terrifying, almost spindly gait. But it was its grin that unnerved me the most. That knowing, wicked grin. It somehow even managed to out-grin that pesky Chesire cat, its lips reached ear to ear, with many sharp, yellowing teeth filling the void in-between.<br/><br/><i>”HnNNNggGG… GiVE IN AaaAAngel… GiVE in aNd EmbraCE uS!”<br/>
<br/>
My head swam, with my vision blurring in and out. Gotta stay awake, I can’t give in. Don’t fall asleep. It wasn’t just <i>it</i> that I had to worry about. The Orc started barreling down on me as well. His large hand easily wrapped around my neck, tightening my air flow. <br/>
<br/>
<i>It</i> stood behind him, wrapping its spindly arms around the Orc’s neck like a lover’s embrace. Giving in would give me the edge, I knew full well of the rush a contract gave. The power, the adrenaline. It was probably the best drug anybody could take. But I could never control the beast, not in my current state. I’d kill the Orc, and probably a lot more, before I’d regain my senses. Or worst, get put down.<br/>
<br/>
The Orc lifted me up like some ragdoll, my strength had long since drained from my arms and legs. And as he pulled back his fist, I couldn’t help but imagine what my head must look like after he was done with me.<br/>
<br/>
Thankfully Harry wasn’t stupid, and a cheap, but sharp sounding bell echoed throughout the room. Death was bad for business. Transhuman or not, it would pull unwanted attention, if not from the law enforcement, then those pesky do-gooders over at the shelter.<br/>
<br/>
The Orc looked up, his brain trying to wrap around where the sound came from. Thankfully he hadn’t forgotten what the bell meant, and promptly let go of my neck. I gasped and coughed as I slumped down to the ground. <i>It</i> was gone, thank god. <br/>
<br/>
The crowd was going wild, they got exactly what they wanted. Blood-shed, violence, and a Darksider getting her ass handed to her. Fucking pricks, I should beat the crap out of all of them.<br/>
<br/>
It took me a minute or so before I could feel my legs again, and another before I felt brave enough to attempt to stand up. The Pit didn’t offer you any help, you had to drag your own sorry ass out of the arena. The walk of shame, is what they called it, and it was appropriately named. I had to support myself against the wall so I wouldn’t fall over. A crudely constructed ramp led out of the pit, where the next contestants were already lining up, while the victorious Orc was getting praised. <br/>
<br/>
“Motherfuckers…” I hissed as I sat down on one of the crudely constructed benches, hoping to get some well-deserved rest.<br/>
<br/>
“Angel, Angel, Angel!” Oh come on.<br/>
<br/>
Looking down, I could see Harry waddling up to me, accompanied by two of his goons.<br/>
<br/>
“Angel, babe, marvelous fight, truly!” His greasy palms were already rubbing together. He liked to do that when he made a good amount of cash.<br/>
<br/>
“Fuck you Harry…” I replied, finding enough strength to at least flip him off.<br/>
<br/>
He didn’t seem too bothered by it, and why would he? This wasn’t our first dance together. “Always with the rude remarks.” He said, shaking his head while tsking melodramatically. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. One of these days I’m going to take offense and see that… measures will be taken.”<br/>
<br/>
Harry was by no means a big player around these parts, but it was best not to get on his bad side. Besides, I needed the money.<br/>
<br/>
“Here’s your cut for the night.” He said, as he threw a hastily bound stack of bills into my lap. “I do hope to see you again soon.” And just like that, he waddled back into the crowd, thankfully leaving me alone with my splitting headache.<br/>
Fast forwards a few hours and I find myself walking back towards the shelter, while the people I come across give me curious looks. I’m self-aware enough to know I look like shit right now, dark bags below my eyes from not having slept for three days, and even darker bruises riddling my face. Well fuck ‘em. Fuck ‘em all. I don’t need to look pretty for anybody.<br/>
<br/>
Kicking the shelter door open with more force than really necessary, I quickly race inside, hoping to avoid speaking to anybody. Well, not that anybody ever sought conversation with me, but I also liked to prevent this from happening in the first place. Keeping my head low, I bee-lined it for the bedrooms.</i><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>