Untitled Story #459138
Tanjoubi Omedetou crack_alchemist! I enjoyed the chapter greatly! Maybe more than usual, given the day... Hope you're birthday is filled with light, hope, and lots of writing!
Series Title : Caster College
Series Rating : PG-13 - NC-17
Word Count : 5,607
Chapter 3 : Making Money the less than Legal Way
He swiped his card and the door to his room opened.
Ryan nearly choked himself as he furiously undid his tie and kicked off his shoes. He peeled off his uniform and kicked his mattress, not so angry to be stupid enough to break his toe on the wall or metal frame of the bed.
Tearing the bandages off her chest and pulling her hair free, she turned the shower on. She took in a deep breath, but it didn't calm her down at all. She got in and let the water wash over her body. She was going to have serious bruises from this, and they were already starting to show. Shit. Stupid sadistic bastard. She didn't really wash so much as let her body get wet. She was about to go to work anyway, and she was just going to get sweaty all over again.
Stepping out, Renee made sure her hands were dry before she plugged in the hair dryer. She turned it on and bent forward to dry her hair. Just as the dryer was cut off, she heard a knock at her door. She gave a small curse and grabbed some fresh bandages. She did a quick dry and wrapped herself up quickly. She pulled on some fresh clothes from the closet and sped to the door.
Damn, she forgot her hair... She spun and grabbed a band from off the dresser.
There was another knock.
"I'm coming, dammit!" Ryan hit the button with his elbow as he finished putting up his hair.
Icchan stood outside the door. "You forgot this." He held out a trig book.
"This was in my briefcase! Were you searching through my stuff or something?!"
Icchan shrugged. "No thanks necessary."
Ryan growled and shut the door. He tossed the book onto his bed and let out a sigh. He was dressed, and work didn't start until 7 o'clock, so he had time to kill, but not that much... He stuffed one of the two bras he owned into his pocket, grabbed another shirt and tucked the end into his pants. He'd have to change into that later for work.
He strolled out of the building, feeling himself tense up as he passed by Traine's door. He thought of a few curses he would have liked to say to him, but refrained. Traine'd probably call him a yapping dog or something. He clenched his fist.
The light was fading as the day came to an end. More people of the shady type were coming out, and they all were eyeing him like he was some pigeon waiting to get ripped off. He smirked at the thought of any normal punks trying to rob him. It'd be some late exercise.
Ryan wandered into a store. If he had more than 3 dollars in his wallet, he might have actually bought those pants... He'd had to buy a new wardrobe when he'd come because none of the shirts he had were baggy enough, and most of his pants were getting to the point of high waters.
He looked at a nearby clock. Almost time. He pulled his hair free from the band and proceeded to walk into the woman's dressing room. There were a few questioning glances, but a quick 'Hi' and a smile made them reconsider their obvious question of her sex.
She pulled the shirt and bra out of her pocket and tossed them on the small seat attached to the corner of the changing room. Pulling the shirt over her head, she contemplated just leaving the bandages on, but thought against it. Renee didn't want anyone trying to tie her and Ryan together. She wondered how anyone could even be stupid enough to think they were two different people, but that was why she never went anywhere near the school during times like this.
She careful unwrapped her chest and tightly rolled the bandages up. She put them in her pocket and looked at her breasts. Sighing, she poked at them and wondered if they really were getting flatter. Oh well. The price for strength. She slid the bra over her arms, touching a bruise a little too hard, and reached back to clip it.
She looked in the mirror. It's amazing how much of a girl she looked when all she did was take off her shirt and let down her hair. Unreal, actually. Putting on the shirt, she modeled it. Tighter, and it definitely showed the curves she had been hiding. Make no mistake, she wasn't super curvy to begin with, but if she wore the right clothes, it made it obvious.
The only thing that could tie her to fighting would be her arms, a little more muscular than a normal girl's, and the bruises. That damn Traine! She shook her fist at the mirror, as if it was the cause of her problems. There was one on her shoulder, and another continuous one on both forearms from blocking the sadistic bastard. She wondered if someone would think she was abused... She laughed at the thought. At least he'd spared her face. If not, she'd have had to wait a week for it to heal, and she's be begging for scraps like the rest of the penniless fools. She picked up the shirt and gave herself one last check in the mirror.
This time, she tucked the baggy shirt into her pocket and left the store. She'd spent 15 minutes in there. You'd think she'd actually tried something on. It was lucky she had scouted out the place and knew where it was, or else she'd have been in trouble.
She idled a while in front of another store once she was close enough and didn't have to worry about being late. She'd wear those clothes some day. Probably in 3 years after they were out of style, she noted bitterly. She continued on and watched the neon signs get fewer and fewer, and the buildings slowly deteriorate to the slums. Hover cars appeared less and less, and soon there were only a few sparse cars that traveled along the ground. People on the street started to disappear until there were a just scattering of men and women on steps outside of abandoned apartment buildings.
What a wonderful neighborhood, she mused to herself. She turned into an alleyway where there was a single door. She wished she knew what time it was, but she didn't have a watch or a halo phone.
She opened the door with a creek and descended the stairs where another door awaited her. She opened it and smoke poured out the open doorway. She stepped inside and let her lungs slowly take in and filter the air. She gave a small wheeze but held it together. God. Did everyone smoke in here? It wasn't like it was all cigars and cigarettes either.
She went up to the sign in booth.
The man looked at her. "You don't have what it takes with that battered body, and we have enough for tonight."
She blinked.
"You're here to sign up as one of the round sign girls, aren't you?"
She blinked again, then laughed. "Me? Go around in those skimpy outfits and hold up a fucking sign? I hope you're joking, because no one I know ever says that seriously."
"Then what? You gonna bet? Get a number over there." He thumbed towards another table.
"I'm here to fight, moron. My name's Renee. I'm already on your stupid list." She looked at it and pointed at her name.
He 'humphed'. "Thought that was just some practical joke."
"It's not, so just give me my number and let me be on my way, 'kay?"
He shrugged. "Good luck passing the prelims."
She smiled. "Why thank you!" She waved.
"Alright! Next up! I don't care how you hit it, just get past 50 and you pass this round!"
The sound of something being hit, then a buzzer, assaulted her ears.
"Fourty-nine! Too bad! Get outta here!"
There was another 'Fwap' and a buzzer. "Sixty. Go ahead."
She didn't know if she was early or late, but the line wasn't too long. Inside the gates the smoke was even thicker and packed.
"Alright, girly. Come on up and give it a shot." The man looked at her bruises. "Looks like you got into it before you even got here."
"Something like that... Can I test it first?" She asked.
"Whatever floats yer boat."
She lifted a leg, tilting to the side to keep her balance, and gave the red leather bag a test kick.
"Twenty."
"Okay." She lowered her leg. She got her balance, then with a small 'Ha!' flicked out her leg and smashed it. She kept spinning and her foot came down with a stomp, her body stopping once her back faced the target.
The buzzer buzzed, and the man called out, "Fifty one. Move on."
Satisfied, she wondered if she should have just punched it instead. Oh, well. Too late now. She looked cautiously at the bouncers who stood on either side of the gate. They didn't look at her or give her any problems.
She was at the back of another rather short line once she passed the gate. Looking ahead, there were three doors, each guarded by a bouncer. Hmm. They were probably separating them by strength. She watched as the fighters ahead of her went. One looked really strong, but when he punched it, he only got a 15. She raised an eyebrow. Was the next machine that much harder?
She watched closely. A weaker looking guy came up, and his score was a 65. Looks were deceiving... Or maybe... they were much more than she thought. Another weaker looking guy. He got a 70, and went to the door closest to the machine. A strong looking guy with a score of 10 went into the farthest door.
It looked to her like the lower your number, the better you were. She wondered if she should aim for the top. She assumed there was better prize money on the top. She hadn't seen anyone with a score higher than 20 get in, but she didn't see any 25s either. To be safe, she should aim for under 20.
"Step up."
"Can I test it first?"
"Whatever."
She gave it a test kick. It buzzed and a 90 lit up on the holoscreen. She'd have to hit it twice as hard to just to get a 50.
Without warning, she brought up her opposite leg and swung around backwards. She gave a loud 'Hyah!' and the back of her heel made contact with the bag, sending it flopping back and forth wildly.
She let her foot drop and stared intently at the holoscreen. She better have gotten lower than a 20!
The sharp sound went unnoticed by her as her eyes rested on the screen, awaiting its image.
"Seventeen. Farthest door."
She contained her joy and went to the door. It was opened for her and she stepped in. There were two sofa-like chairs that no one was using and a table. There were only 12 people in there, including herself. She studied her potential opponents. They all looked decently strong, and she'd only seen 3 out of the 11 scores.
She approached a chair and wondered if there was something wrong with it. It didn't seem strange, though it was a little worn. She let herself fall into it and hoped there were no hidden pins. None of the other contestants batted an eye. They must all have been seasoned veterans. Maybe she should have went a level lower. Oh well, too late now.
There was a loud gong and the holoscreen in the center of the room lit up. Half turned to watch while the other half kept doing their own thing.
The ring, which was encaged by metal mesh with only one door in and out, lit up on the screen. The referee, who was really just there to make sure no one was killed, went to the center of the ring.
The ring girls pranced around, much to Renee's annoyment, as the next fight was announced. She could tell just how weak those guys were. Especially to only be fighting for five hundred dollars. Even though that would have paid off her fees for the month, it didn't include food and more clothes. If they were fighting for a thousand dollars, she'd be satisfied, but she had a feeling that's what the next level up was getting. She was fighting for much more with such serious rivals.
She had forgotten to watch the screen, and before she knew it, all the matches were over and the winner was announced. She later found out there had only been 3 matches. Only 4 people had gotten into the bottom class. A record low. The medium class had 8, and were fighting for a thousand dollars, like she'd guessed. It made her wonder what they would be fighting for.
The silence was so smothering she began to think she would die. The holoscreen was on mute or something and the sounds of the fight didn't permeate the room. She looked down at her number. She didn't know how she'd gotten number 1 when there were so many people in front of her, many of whom didn't make it. They probably just reached in and assigned her whatever number they pulled out of the box.
Her head, as well as all the other men's, turned to the door as it was slammed open.
"You guys are up next!" The man said gruffly. He looked at her strangely. "How'd a woman get in here?"
"The same way as everyone else," a dark haired man answered before she could. He pushed himself away from the wall and was the first out the door. Everyone took it as a cue and started to file out. She wondered if he was some unofficial leader or something. She'd have to watch out for him just to make sure.
The bright overhead lights stung her eyes after coming out of the gloomy holding room.
"And here, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the best of the best from this weeks lot! They're the toughest of the tough! Meanest of the mean! Here are our First class fighters!" He made a big show of waving over them. "They'll be fighting for Five Thousand Dollars!!!"
There was a loud deafening roar. Then people throwing out their bets and slips of paper.
He introduced them all by name, or whatever the hell they signed up as. She received a lot of cat calls and wolf whistles. She put her hands on her hips and let out a breath. That's what she got for coming to an underground fight.
She looked out at the crowd. More men than woman, and most of those woman were attached to the hip of some bald, fat guy with a lot of rings. Some of the woman weren't woman at all once she took a second glance. There really were all kinds down there.
They were then shooed away as the bets were being made. The first two contestants stayed out there while they went back down the small flight of steps. She stopped halfway down and sat. No one else seemed to want to go back into the room either. They stood or sat in isolated groups of one on the stairs and at the bottom of the landing.
She heard the cheering, some booing, and even laughter, but it was all loud and nearly indistinguishable from one another. The amount of money that she'd be winning made her tap her finger on her chin. She'd pay the school fees for the month, buy some clothes, stock up on food, and horde the rest for next month.
She couldn't very well pay her fees for the following month, as much as she wanted to, because they'd wonder where she got it from. Fighting outside school was strictly forbidden unless your life was in danger. Technically, she WAS in danger of starving to death, so it was alright.
The light at the top of the doorway was blocked for a moment as the winner slowly made his way down the stairs. She could imagine the loser being taken out in a stretcher. These fights weren't all about strength, but it was a good part of it. The next two were called up, and it finished about as fast as the first, with the winner once again rejoining them and the loser nowhere in sight.
She had gotten number 1 in the drawing, but it apparently didn't have any effect on the order... Unless they were going backwards... It was plausible that it was rigged, and they paired her against the weakest even though her score was not the worst. There was at least one twenty among them.
They called the next match, and then the next, until she and another guy were the only ones left. He didn't look like any kind of weakling to her, so maybe it *was* random.
...And then again...
Her opponent fell face down on the mat. Maybe all those muscles were for nothing, because they didn't help him guard against that kick to the nuts. Of course, she didn't MEAN to kick him there. He jumped back to avoid her kick to the leg, but instead, he turned towards her and left himself wide open. It was too late to stop her attack, so... WHAM.
She went back to the stairwell and gazed at the other 5 who remained. The man who had spoken up for her before was still there, and she wished she had seen him fight. The next two were called, and she heard the roars. Renee looked at the man again. If she didn't have to fight him next, she'd be facing him in the final round; she knew it. She let her eyes close and blocked out the sounds. Someone nudged her shoulders and her eyes opened.
"Hey," the dark haired man said. "You’re next."
She looked up the stairs where her opponent was already walking out. She sighed. "Thanks." She rose to her feet and strode up the stairs.
The man looked after her, watching the swish of her hips and ass. His mouth quirked. She was pretty strong for a woman, and had a decent body. He snorted. He was looking forward to his fight with her. He might even put a bet on it.
Renee took a deep breath, but resented it as she coughed at the smoke. Her opponent didn't look worried, and in fact, looked quite relaxed. Either he was putting up a front or he was severely underestimating her.
They introduced him as Jo the Crusher, and she rolled her eyes. They all cheered for him, then booed her as her name was called. That pot shot she'd gotten in the first round probably made them all think she was there by luck.
But, it didn't really matter what they thought, did it?
He brought up a fist. "Ready?"
She lifted her leg and gave it a sharp kick. "You bet."
The buzzer rang, and she sprang forward. Maybe it did bother her a bit that they thought she was here by luck...
The guy swung to the side and pulled her arm forward to throw her off balance. His leg rose as he spun on the ball of his foot to deliver a kick to the back of her neck and be done with it.
Renee fell forward, bracing her arms and went into a flip, legs swinging up in just enough time to feel the air rush past as his foot sliced the air. Her body arched and her arms pushed up to flip her body right-side up. She flipped again to make sure she was out of his striking range. This guy had some previous training... She made a mental note of it before turning to face him in a ready stance.
He was already closing in, so she braced herself. His fist sailed forward and she took its force with her forearms, letting him get close for her to strike. She let his fist slide to the side and rammed her knee into his gut. He choked, and stumbled. She grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed her knee in again. He gave another gasp and she went for a third try. His hands blocked and pushed her harshly back. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth and he wiped it away. This stupid bitch was tougher than he thought.
She watched as he tried to regain his composure, but decided to end it. She lunged forward and grabbed his arm. She leaned back and took him with her. She rolled, sticking her foot into his stomach, and turning completely over until she was standing on him. She gave a few stomps until he was unconscious.
There were loud cheers and lots of cursing as many had lost their money. She descended down the stairs and received a coy smile from the dark hair man, who walked past her up the stairs. Another brooding man followed, deathly serious about his next fight. Renee had confidence that the first one would be the winner, but like she learned later, there were no guarantees in underworld fights.
She was listening to the roars, which drowned out most of the play by play that was being blurted over the microphone. Then, she felt like it had ended because it got just a bit quieter. That was when she heard the announcement.
"Wow! This is a first! Double KO!"
She blinked in surprise. They had both knocked each other out? What had happened?
"This means that the winner of our previous match is the winner over all!"
There were boos, and she walked up the stairs.
"So, let's congratulate our lucky little bitch, eh!!"
She reached the top of the stairs and walked out the doorway. There were hisses and booing to which she responded with a loud "FUCK YOU!" and gave them all the one-finger salute. She took the wad of cash, gave a smirk, bowed, and thanked them all for nothing before telling them all to go straight to hell.
She walked out of the cage and down the steps. There were quite a few people trying to claw at her and she simply snorted. She watched the bouncers struggled to hold the crowd back and decided not to stick around and wave the money in front of their faces like she had planned.
She slammed open the door and went up the stairs. She was again greeted with cigarette smoke once she reached the top. She quickly went on the offensive.
"You trying to steal my money or something?" she growled, fist tightening.
"Nah. I'll get it next week," came a slightly familiar voice. He stepped out from the shadows and threw his cigarette on the ground. Crushing it under his heel, the man smiled.
"Looks like you lucked out this week."
She laughed. "Trying to save face? You got yourself knocked out."
He walked beside her out of the alley. "True. It's too bad they don't have a 45 second count."
"So that's how long you were out, huh?"
"Yep," he said with a chuckle.
"That IS too bad for you. Oh well. You can try it out next week."
He looked down at her with a smile. "I'm sure I will. Will you be there?"
"Maybe." She smiled, knowing what he was trying to get at.
"Then maybe we should have a little bet next time."
She laughed. "Bring it on, Mr.Double KO. Think of a good one for next week, because I'm going to drain you dry."
"That's what I planned on," he answered, eyebrows waggling as his tongue flicked across his lips.
"I meant of money," she admonished.
He laughed, his eyes traveling along her arms. "Where'd the bruises come from?"
"Oh? These?" She touched them lightly. "Traine did it, the bastard. We had a fight yesterday."
"You don't seem like the type to yield to an abusive boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" Her eyebrows shot up. Then she laughed aloud. "He's nothing like that. We were sparring yesterday, and I got my ass completely kicked."
"Uh huh."
"What? You don't believe me?"
He shrugged. "Not my place to say, but I look forward to next week."
She smiled again. "So do I, Double KO."
"My name's Brian."
"Renee," she said. She grabbed his hand and shook it. "I'll see you next week!" She ran off towards the dorms. Brian's head tilted to the side. What a nice ass. His lip curled upwards. Next week was going to be nice.
Renee slowed to a walk as she neared the dorm. Everywhere was closed, and where was she going to change? She looked at a small alley. It was her only option... She looked around, then dashed in. She quickly peeled off her shirt and bra. Looking around again, she quickly wrapped up her chest and pulled the shirt out of her pocket and slid it over her head. She tucked the old one into her waistband and shoved the bra into her pocket.
Pulling his hair back, he left the alley and went through the sliding doors. He jogged up the stairs and to his room, not meeting anyone on the way. He was lucky...
He against stripped down to his boxers. She pulled her hair out of the tie and undid the strips of cloth. She pulled on another t-shirt and flopped into bed. Her bruises hurt, and even though she had been hiding it all night, it was over-whelming her now. Her eyes closed and the pain sent her into a deep sleep.
Author’s Note : ::whistles:: I can’t say anything interesting has happened yet, but reading it over from the beginning and making changes just really makes me want to start writing again. I did finally succumb to the urges and wrote myself out of the author’s block I’d been in for weeks. =_= I’m so happy… ::cries::
Series Title : Caster College
Series Rating : PG-13 - NC-17
Word Count : 5,607
Chapter 3 : Making Money the less than Legal Way
He swiped his card and the door to his room opened.
Ryan nearly choked himself as he furiously undid his tie and kicked off his shoes. He peeled off his uniform and kicked his mattress, not so angry to be stupid enough to break his toe on the wall or metal frame of the bed.
Tearing the bandages off her chest and pulling her hair free, she turned the shower on. She took in a deep breath, but it didn't calm her down at all. She got in and let the water wash over her body. She was going to have serious bruises from this, and they were already starting to show. Shit. Stupid sadistic bastard. She didn't really wash so much as let her body get wet. She was about to go to work anyway, and she was just going to get sweaty all over again.
Stepping out, Renee made sure her hands were dry before she plugged in the hair dryer. She turned it on and bent forward to dry her hair. Just as the dryer was cut off, she heard a knock at her door. She gave a small curse and grabbed some fresh bandages. She did a quick dry and wrapped herself up quickly. She pulled on some fresh clothes from the closet and sped to the door.
Damn, she forgot her hair... She spun and grabbed a band from off the dresser.
There was another knock.
"I'm coming, dammit!" Ryan hit the button with his elbow as he finished putting up his hair.
Icchan stood outside the door. "You forgot this." He held out a trig book.
"This was in my briefcase! Were you searching through my stuff or something?!"
Icchan shrugged. "No thanks necessary."
Ryan growled and shut the door. He tossed the book onto his bed and let out a sigh. He was dressed, and work didn't start until 7 o'clock, so he had time to kill, but not that much... He stuffed one of the two bras he owned into his pocket, grabbed another shirt and tucked the end into his pants. He'd have to change into that later for work.
He strolled out of the building, feeling himself tense up as he passed by Traine's door. He thought of a few curses he would have liked to say to him, but refrained. Traine'd probably call him a yapping dog or something. He clenched his fist.
The light was fading as the day came to an end. More people of the shady type were coming out, and they all were eyeing him like he was some pigeon waiting to get ripped off. He smirked at the thought of any normal punks trying to rob him. It'd be some late exercise.
Ryan wandered into a store. If he had more than 3 dollars in his wallet, he might have actually bought those pants... He'd had to buy a new wardrobe when he'd come because none of the shirts he had were baggy enough, and most of his pants were getting to the point of high waters.
He looked at a nearby clock. Almost time. He pulled his hair free from the band and proceeded to walk into the woman's dressing room. There were a few questioning glances, but a quick 'Hi' and a smile made them reconsider their obvious question of her sex.
She pulled the shirt and bra out of her pocket and tossed them on the small seat attached to the corner of the changing room. Pulling the shirt over her head, she contemplated just leaving the bandages on, but thought against it. Renee didn't want anyone trying to tie her and Ryan together. She wondered how anyone could even be stupid enough to think they were two different people, but that was why she never went anywhere near the school during times like this.
She careful unwrapped her chest and tightly rolled the bandages up. She put them in her pocket and looked at her breasts. Sighing, she poked at them and wondered if they really were getting flatter. Oh well. The price for strength. She slid the bra over her arms, touching a bruise a little too hard, and reached back to clip it.
She looked in the mirror. It's amazing how much of a girl she looked when all she did was take off her shirt and let down her hair. Unreal, actually. Putting on the shirt, she modeled it. Tighter, and it definitely showed the curves she had been hiding. Make no mistake, she wasn't super curvy to begin with, but if she wore the right clothes, it made it obvious.
The only thing that could tie her to fighting would be her arms, a little more muscular than a normal girl's, and the bruises. That damn Traine! She shook her fist at the mirror, as if it was the cause of her problems. There was one on her shoulder, and another continuous one on both forearms from blocking the sadistic bastard. She wondered if someone would think she was abused... She laughed at the thought. At least he'd spared her face. If not, she'd have had to wait a week for it to heal, and she's be begging for scraps like the rest of the penniless fools. She picked up the shirt and gave herself one last check in the mirror.
This time, she tucked the baggy shirt into her pocket and left the store. She'd spent 15 minutes in there. You'd think she'd actually tried something on. It was lucky she had scouted out the place and knew where it was, or else she'd have been in trouble.
She idled a while in front of another store once she was close enough and didn't have to worry about being late. She'd wear those clothes some day. Probably in 3 years after they were out of style, she noted bitterly. She continued on and watched the neon signs get fewer and fewer, and the buildings slowly deteriorate to the slums. Hover cars appeared less and less, and soon there were only a few sparse cars that traveled along the ground. People on the street started to disappear until there were a just scattering of men and women on steps outside of abandoned apartment buildings.
What a wonderful neighborhood, she mused to herself. She turned into an alleyway where there was a single door. She wished she knew what time it was, but she didn't have a watch or a halo phone.
She opened the door with a creek and descended the stairs where another door awaited her. She opened it and smoke poured out the open doorway. She stepped inside and let her lungs slowly take in and filter the air. She gave a small wheeze but held it together. God. Did everyone smoke in here? It wasn't like it was all cigars and cigarettes either.
She went up to the sign in booth.
The man looked at her. "You don't have what it takes with that battered body, and we have enough for tonight."
She blinked.
"You're here to sign up as one of the round sign girls, aren't you?"
She blinked again, then laughed. "Me? Go around in those skimpy outfits and hold up a fucking sign? I hope you're joking, because no one I know ever says that seriously."
"Then what? You gonna bet? Get a number over there." He thumbed towards another table.
"I'm here to fight, moron. My name's Renee. I'm already on your stupid list." She looked at it and pointed at her name.
He 'humphed'. "Thought that was just some practical joke."
"It's not, so just give me my number and let me be on my way, 'kay?"
He shrugged. "Good luck passing the prelims."
She smiled. "Why thank you!" She waved.
"Alright! Next up! I don't care how you hit it, just get past 50 and you pass this round!"
The sound of something being hit, then a buzzer, assaulted her ears.
"Fourty-nine! Too bad! Get outta here!"
There was another 'Fwap' and a buzzer. "Sixty. Go ahead."
She didn't know if she was early or late, but the line wasn't too long. Inside the gates the smoke was even thicker and packed.
"Alright, girly. Come on up and give it a shot." The man looked at her bruises. "Looks like you got into it before you even got here."
"Something like that... Can I test it first?" She asked.
"Whatever floats yer boat."
She lifted a leg, tilting to the side to keep her balance, and gave the red leather bag a test kick.
"Twenty."
"Okay." She lowered her leg. She got her balance, then with a small 'Ha!' flicked out her leg and smashed it. She kept spinning and her foot came down with a stomp, her body stopping once her back faced the target.
The buzzer buzzed, and the man called out, "Fifty one. Move on."
Satisfied, she wondered if she should have just punched it instead. Oh, well. Too late now. She looked cautiously at the bouncers who stood on either side of the gate. They didn't look at her or give her any problems.
She was at the back of another rather short line once she passed the gate. Looking ahead, there were three doors, each guarded by a bouncer. Hmm. They were probably separating them by strength. She watched as the fighters ahead of her went. One looked really strong, but when he punched it, he only got a 15. She raised an eyebrow. Was the next machine that much harder?
She watched closely. A weaker looking guy came up, and his score was a 65. Looks were deceiving... Or maybe... they were much more than she thought. Another weaker looking guy. He got a 70, and went to the door closest to the machine. A strong looking guy with a score of 10 went into the farthest door.
It looked to her like the lower your number, the better you were. She wondered if she should aim for the top. She assumed there was better prize money on the top. She hadn't seen anyone with a score higher than 20 get in, but she didn't see any 25s either. To be safe, she should aim for under 20.
"Step up."
"Can I test it first?"
"Whatever."
She gave it a test kick. It buzzed and a 90 lit up on the holoscreen. She'd have to hit it twice as hard to just to get a 50.
Without warning, she brought up her opposite leg and swung around backwards. She gave a loud 'Hyah!' and the back of her heel made contact with the bag, sending it flopping back and forth wildly.
She let her foot drop and stared intently at the holoscreen. She better have gotten lower than a 20!
The sharp sound went unnoticed by her as her eyes rested on the screen, awaiting its image.
"Seventeen. Farthest door."
She contained her joy and went to the door. It was opened for her and she stepped in. There were two sofa-like chairs that no one was using and a table. There were only 12 people in there, including herself. She studied her potential opponents. They all looked decently strong, and she'd only seen 3 out of the 11 scores.
She approached a chair and wondered if there was something wrong with it. It didn't seem strange, though it was a little worn. She let herself fall into it and hoped there were no hidden pins. None of the other contestants batted an eye. They must all have been seasoned veterans. Maybe she should have went a level lower. Oh well, too late now.
There was a loud gong and the holoscreen in the center of the room lit up. Half turned to watch while the other half kept doing their own thing.
The ring, which was encaged by metal mesh with only one door in and out, lit up on the screen. The referee, who was really just there to make sure no one was killed, went to the center of the ring.
The ring girls pranced around, much to Renee's annoyment, as the next fight was announced. She could tell just how weak those guys were. Especially to only be fighting for five hundred dollars. Even though that would have paid off her fees for the month, it didn't include food and more clothes. If they were fighting for a thousand dollars, she'd be satisfied, but she had a feeling that's what the next level up was getting. She was fighting for much more with such serious rivals.
She had forgotten to watch the screen, and before she knew it, all the matches were over and the winner was announced. She later found out there had only been 3 matches. Only 4 people had gotten into the bottom class. A record low. The medium class had 8, and were fighting for a thousand dollars, like she'd guessed. It made her wonder what they would be fighting for.
The silence was so smothering she began to think she would die. The holoscreen was on mute or something and the sounds of the fight didn't permeate the room. She looked down at her number. She didn't know how she'd gotten number 1 when there were so many people in front of her, many of whom didn't make it. They probably just reached in and assigned her whatever number they pulled out of the box.
Her head, as well as all the other men's, turned to the door as it was slammed open.
"You guys are up next!" The man said gruffly. He looked at her strangely. "How'd a woman get in here?"
"The same way as everyone else," a dark haired man answered before she could. He pushed himself away from the wall and was the first out the door. Everyone took it as a cue and started to file out. She wondered if he was some unofficial leader or something. She'd have to watch out for him just to make sure.
The bright overhead lights stung her eyes after coming out of the gloomy holding room.
"And here, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the best of the best from this weeks lot! They're the toughest of the tough! Meanest of the mean! Here are our First class fighters!" He made a big show of waving over them. "They'll be fighting for Five Thousand Dollars!!!"
There was a loud deafening roar. Then people throwing out their bets and slips of paper.
He introduced them all by name, or whatever the hell they signed up as. She received a lot of cat calls and wolf whistles. She put her hands on her hips and let out a breath. That's what she got for coming to an underground fight.
She looked out at the crowd. More men than woman, and most of those woman were attached to the hip of some bald, fat guy with a lot of rings. Some of the woman weren't woman at all once she took a second glance. There really were all kinds down there.
They were then shooed away as the bets were being made. The first two contestants stayed out there while they went back down the small flight of steps. She stopped halfway down and sat. No one else seemed to want to go back into the room either. They stood or sat in isolated groups of one on the stairs and at the bottom of the landing.
She heard the cheering, some booing, and even laughter, but it was all loud and nearly indistinguishable from one another. The amount of money that she'd be winning made her tap her finger on her chin. She'd pay the school fees for the month, buy some clothes, stock up on food, and horde the rest for next month.
She couldn't very well pay her fees for the following month, as much as she wanted to, because they'd wonder where she got it from. Fighting outside school was strictly forbidden unless your life was in danger. Technically, she WAS in danger of starving to death, so it was alright.
The light at the top of the doorway was blocked for a moment as the winner slowly made his way down the stairs. She could imagine the loser being taken out in a stretcher. These fights weren't all about strength, but it was a good part of it. The next two were called up, and it finished about as fast as the first, with the winner once again rejoining them and the loser nowhere in sight.
She had gotten number 1 in the drawing, but it apparently didn't have any effect on the order... Unless they were going backwards... It was plausible that it was rigged, and they paired her against the weakest even though her score was not the worst. There was at least one twenty among them.
They called the next match, and then the next, until she and another guy were the only ones left. He didn't look like any kind of weakling to her, so maybe it *was* random.
...And then again...
Her opponent fell face down on the mat. Maybe all those muscles were for nothing, because they didn't help him guard against that kick to the nuts. Of course, she didn't MEAN to kick him there. He jumped back to avoid her kick to the leg, but instead, he turned towards her and left himself wide open. It was too late to stop her attack, so... WHAM.
She went back to the stairwell and gazed at the other 5 who remained. The man who had spoken up for her before was still there, and she wished she had seen him fight. The next two were called, and she heard the roars. Renee looked at the man again. If she didn't have to fight him next, she'd be facing him in the final round; she knew it. She let her eyes close and blocked out the sounds. Someone nudged her shoulders and her eyes opened.
"Hey," the dark haired man said. "You’re next."
She looked up the stairs where her opponent was already walking out. She sighed. "Thanks." She rose to her feet and strode up the stairs.
The man looked after her, watching the swish of her hips and ass. His mouth quirked. She was pretty strong for a woman, and had a decent body. He snorted. He was looking forward to his fight with her. He might even put a bet on it.
Renee took a deep breath, but resented it as she coughed at the smoke. Her opponent didn't look worried, and in fact, looked quite relaxed. Either he was putting up a front or he was severely underestimating her.
They introduced him as Jo the Crusher, and she rolled her eyes. They all cheered for him, then booed her as her name was called. That pot shot she'd gotten in the first round probably made them all think she was there by luck.
But, it didn't really matter what they thought, did it?
He brought up a fist. "Ready?"
She lifted her leg and gave it a sharp kick. "You bet."
The buzzer rang, and she sprang forward. Maybe it did bother her a bit that they thought she was here by luck...
The guy swung to the side and pulled her arm forward to throw her off balance. His leg rose as he spun on the ball of his foot to deliver a kick to the back of her neck and be done with it.
Renee fell forward, bracing her arms and went into a flip, legs swinging up in just enough time to feel the air rush past as his foot sliced the air. Her body arched and her arms pushed up to flip her body right-side up. She flipped again to make sure she was out of his striking range. This guy had some previous training... She made a mental note of it before turning to face him in a ready stance.
He was already closing in, so she braced herself. His fist sailed forward and she took its force with her forearms, letting him get close for her to strike. She let his fist slide to the side and rammed her knee into his gut. He choked, and stumbled. She grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed her knee in again. He gave another gasp and she went for a third try. His hands blocked and pushed her harshly back. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth and he wiped it away. This stupid bitch was tougher than he thought.
She watched as he tried to regain his composure, but decided to end it. She lunged forward and grabbed his arm. She leaned back and took him with her. She rolled, sticking her foot into his stomach, and turning completely over until she was standing on him. She gave a few stomps until he was unconscious.
There were loud cheers and lots of cursing as many had lost their money. She descended down the stairs and received a coy smile from the dark hair man, who walked past her up the stairs. Another brooding man followed, deathly serious about his next fight. Renee had confidence that the first one would be the winner, but like she learned later, there were no guarantees in underworld fights.
She was listening to the roars, which drowned out most of the play by play that was being blurted over the microphone. Then, she felt like it had ended because it got just a bit quieter. That was when she heard the announcement.
"Wow! This is a first! Double KO!"
She blinked in surprise. They had both knocked each other out? What had happened?
"This means that the winner of our previous match is the winner over all!"
There were boos, and she walked up the stairs.
"So, let's congratulate our lucky little bitch, eh!!"
She reached the top of the stairs and walked out the doorway. There were hisses and booing to which she responded with a loud "FUCK YOU!" and gave them all the one-finger salute. She took the wad of cash, gave a smirk, bowed, and thanked them all for nothing before telling them all to go straight to hell.
She walked out of the cage and down the steps. There were quite a few people trying to claw at her and she simply snorted. She watched the bouncers struggled to hold the crowd back and decided not to stick around and wave the money in front of their faces like she had planned.
She slammed open the door and went up the stairs. She was again greeted with cigarette smoke once she reached the top. She quickly went on the offensive.
"You trying to steal my money or something?" she growled, fist tightening.
"Nah. I'll get it next week," came a slightly familiar voice. He stepped out from the shadows and threw his cigarette on the ground. Crushing it under his heel, the man smiled.
"Looks like you lucked out this week."
She laughed. "Trying to save face? You got yourself knocked out."
He walked beside her out of the alley. "True. It's too bad they don't have a 45 second count."
"So that's how long you were out, huh?"
"Yep," he said with a chuckle.
"That IS too bad for you. Oh well. You can try it out next week."
He looked down at her with a smile. "I'm sure I will. Will you be there?"
"Maybe." She smiled, knowing what he was trying to get at.
"Then maybe we should have a little bet next time."
She laughed. "Bring it on, Mr.Double KO. Think of a good one for next week, because I'm going to drain you dry."
"That's what I planned on," he answered, eyebrows waggling as his tongue flicked across his lips.
"I meant of money," she admonished.
He laughed, his eyes traveling along her arms. "Where'd the bruises come from?"
"Oh? These?" She touched them lightly. "Traine did it, the bastard. We had a fight yesterday."
"You don't seem like the type to yield to an abusive boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?" Her eyebrows shot up. Then she laughed aloud. "He's nothing like that. We were sparring yesterday, and I got my ass completely kicked."
"Uh huh."
"What? You don't believe me?"
He shrugged. "Not my place to say, but I look forward to next week."
She smiled again. "So do I, Double KO."
"My name's Brian."
"Renee," she said. She grabbed his hand and shook it. "I'll see you next week!" She ran off towards the dorms. Brian's head tilted to the side. What a nice ass. His lip curled upwards. Next week was going to be nice.
Renee slowed to a walk as she neared the dorm. Everywhere was closed, and where was she going to change? She looked at a small alley. It was her only option... She looked around, then dashed in. She quickly peeled off her shirt and bra. Looking around again, she quickly wrapped up her chest and pulled the shirt out of her pocket and slid it over her head. She tucked the old one into her waistband and shoved the bra into her pocket.
Pulling his hair back, he left the alley and went through the sliding doors. He jogged up the stairs and to his room, not meeting anyone on the way. He was lucky...
He against stripped down to his boxers. She pulled her hair out of the tie and undid the strips of cloth. She pulled on another t-shirt and flopped into bed. Her bruises hurt, and even though she had been hiding it all night, it was over-whelming her now. Her eyes closed and the pain sent her into a deep sleep.
Author’s Note : ::whistles:: I can’t say anything interesting has happened yet, but reading it over from the beginning and making changes just really makes me want to start writing again. I did finally succumb to the urges and wrote myself out of the author’s block I’d been in for weeks. =_= I’m so happy… ::cries::