Chapter 2: When Death Calls
The man was built like a weightlifter, bald, and wore a black shirt, and black pants, and black military boots. His arms were crossed, and on his waist there was a belt that had a long stick hanging down his side.
“What are you looking at?” The man gave him an immediate angry look, as if just by looking at him, pissed him off.
“Just…checkin’ this place out. I’m new—
“Ya think I care kid? Get the hell out of here. Your weak…type isn’t allowed here.”
Jaxson froze, his mind stopped when the word “weak” came from the big man’s fat lip. Though he wasn’t nearly as mad as the larger man, he was beginning to be bothered. “I didn’t ask you to be my mirror, I said I want to check the place out. Get it?”
The man’s face reddened and he unfolded his arms and took a large step forward, closing the distance between Jaxson’s face and his torso. The man had a good five inches on him, and his body could’ve been twice his width, but still he wasn’t bothered.
“What did you say—
“I said I want to check the place out. Got a problem with that?”
Jaxson could hear the man tighten his jaw and grind his teeth, the man groaned and curled his fist. When he pulled his arm back, the other large man grabbed his shoulder. “Let him in, if he wants to get killed, let him be.” He grinned and glared back at Jaxson.
The large man inches from him, released his jaw and fist. “Welcome to your grave you little punk. I’d kill you myself, but people pay to see that inside…I’m doing them a favor.” As he laughed his giant chest rose up and down. He stepped aside and let Jaxson inside.
The inside was dark and had red lights hanging from the ceiling, and the sound of shouting and cheering could be heard from where he was. There were a few other people in the hall, but it was too dark to see their faces. He walked passed a few closed doors, and lingering figures in the hall talking softly or for some, kissing each other’s faces. He ignored the impulsive arrogance of those in the hall, and headed towards the louder shouting and cheering. As he got to the end of the hallway, he could hear new sounds, sounds of clashing metal, the cracking of a whip, and grunting and roaring.
When he rounded the corner at the end of the hall, he saw it. There was a giant arena-like room, filled with people screaming and cheering, cursing obliviously at the center of the arena. In the center, there were three men, or maybe a woman, fighting each other with various weapons, from long blades to a whip and smaller knives. There were blood stains on the floor near the center, and there was a metal fence around the fighters. This sure looked like hell.
No one had noticed him yet, he didn’t put up his hood to make him look suspicious, but there were several people around him, peering in on the bloody action.
He worked his way into the room, but was careful to stay towards the outside. The fighters in the center were still working on each other, slashing, cracking, and punching and kicking each other. A death match. And this was their audience. This was hell.
“Slash the shit out of him!” A woman shouted in front of him. Others cheered with the woman, and others shouted cheerful words of advice to the fighters.
Jaxson moved further to his right, avoiding clumsy people from hitting him.
More slashing, and punching and blood spraying from the arena. More cheers and shouting.
He rounded to the other side of the room, unsure why he was moving so far from the exit, and there were two more big men, same uniform as the ones outside. They were consulting a member and pushed him aside as the man was clearly drunk. “No. Only real fighters! Not stupid drunks like you!” One of the men shouted.
Jaxson worked his way towards them and stopped at a sign on the wall that read:
Fighters Welcome To Come And Go As You Please. There Is NO Responsibility
For Your Death. Fight At Your Own Will. Prizes Will Be Awarded In The End.
The sign made him second guess his entering to the building, but the thought of a “prize” made him interested. Curious to learn more, he stepped up the two large men in front of a roped-off section of the room. Five men were gathered in the area, all holding various weapons but not fighting. These were probably the next fighters he thought.
“What the hell do you
want?” The man on the right asked. Though he wasn’t bald, he appeared to have
the same anger capacity as the one outside. He had short spiked brown hair, but
was un-proportional to the size of his head, so it made his head look a bit too
large.
Jaxson ignored his remark and continued with his intended question, “What are the prizes?”
“Excuse me?” The man asked. “You don’t actually expect me to think you—
“I want to know what the prizes are if I were to fight.”
He didn’t think before interrupting the large man, but he didn’t think much of it.
The large man didn’t clench his jaw or tighten his fist, but stood there and paused, surprised by the young man’s request. After several seconds, he laughed. He leaned forward and his face turned red and his mouth was open as he roared with laughter. The other guard was laughing with him, but not as hard as he.
Jaxson remained calmed, on the outside, but his insides began to boil, and he felt his hands slightly curl. He avoided showing any sign of aggression towards the large men, but simply waited out their mockery of him.
Finally, they both caught their breath, and the man on the left spoke first, “Are you freakin’ serious?”
Jaxson stood still, eyes on both of them. His only answer was, “Yes I am.” He wanted to add tell me or I’ll cut your fat off of you and feed it to your damn friend next to you, you piece of—
The other man raised his hand. “If you want to fight, you wait over here like these other rats, until your death. Unless you’re just a pussy and think your so God damn funny, I’ll kill you myself.”
Feeling satisfied, once again, Jaxson stepped passed the large men laughing again as he passed, and stood in the area with the five others. All of them were wearing ripped up clothes like as if they had already had a fight, and all carrying several different weapons. One man had a knife in his hand and a round shield in the other. Another had a large staff with a blade at the end.
More shouting and cheering came from the arena, and when Jaxson looked towards the center, two of the men had fallen. One of them looked as if their neck had been cut, bleeding profusely, and the other lying on the other side of the arena, both arms severed from the body. Blood spilled everywhere, even the man standing was nearly covered in blood, more than likely not by his own blood.
A minute later, speakers came to life overhead and the voice of an announcer spoke loud and clear. “Hell yeah! What a fight!” The audience erupted once more. “Men of real blood live, those who are frauds die in the arena!” He spoke over the crowd, igniting the energy like a spark. “There are six fighters left to shed, step forward men!”
Jaxson and the other five men eased their weapons, stood in the private area. Jaxson’s heart rate went up, but he felt calm, unsure whether his choice of activities would cost him his life.
“The two men closest to the rope step onto the arena!” There was a pause over the speaker, and the crowd cheered again for the two men now entering the arena. Both much more larger than him, he remained calm as he wondered when he—
“And the cloaked one in the back, enter the arena!”
Yeah, he was in hell.
He stood frozen for a second, but caught himself and stepped forward onto the arena. The other two men were in opposite corners each with their weapons drawn, but Jaxson appeared to have no weapon. The dead men from the previous match appeared to be removed, but their blood still remained red on the floor.
He looked at the other men and could see fear in their eyes. The one with a long spear backed into the corner and waited for the fight to begin.
The crowd is still chanting and the blood on the floor is still wet from the previous fight. The other fighter was still in the center of the arena, holding his blades above his waist. His uniform was torn and shredded on the back.
Jaxson remained calm on his side of the arena, not drawing his knives to make the other fighters think he had none. His blood boiled and his muscles tensed, still waiting for the-
"Fight!" Came over the arena, and immediately the other two fighters clashed weapons. Jaxson moved closer to a corner, and a lady behind him cussed how pathetic and scared he was. He ignored her and when his attention gazed back at the fighters, the one with the long spear had sliced the other's shoulder. The man turned to Jaxson and took three steps toward him and the long spear was no more than a foot from his face.
Jaxson shifted his stance so he could quickly-
The man lunged forward with the staff at Jaxson's torso, but missed as he ducked to his left and grabbed out a knife from his belt.
Jaxson got his footing and was now standing near the other fighter whose shoulder was messed up, though still alive, but he didn't make any effort to attack again. The fighter with the long staff was ready again, staff pointed at Jaxson, and taking small steps forward.
"What are you gonna do? I'm gonna make you my bitch!" He teased at Jaxson. His face was reddened, and there was some blood on his shirt and on the blade of his staff.
He lunged forward again and sliced at Jaxson, who moved just in time to the side before the blade would have cut his shoulder. When he swung the staff horizontally, neck-high, Jaxson had leaned back, arching his back so it was nearly parallel to the floor, and avoided the blade.
Jaxson had such great blanace he didn't fall back on his ass, instead, he repositioned himself standing forward and lunged towards the fighter. His blade was in his right hand and he swung fiercly at him while he hadn't regained his balance from the staff.
The fighter barely missed the first stab from Jaxson, but had no chance missing the second, which pierced the skin in his upper side. Blood oozed through his torn up shirt when he pulled the blade out. Before he could make another go with his knife, the fighter spun around and tried jabbing the staff's blade into Jaxson's chest. Though Jaxson had dove out of the way and rolled to the fighter's feet.
The crowd was so loud the noise almost muted the sound of the staff hitting the floor, and the scream from the fighter when Jaxson kicked his knee out.
The man fell to the floor and released the staff. Jaxson moved so quickly and grabbed the staff, pulled back, and shoved the blade into his chest before he fell to the floor.
"That's how you kill a man!" A man shouted from the crowd. There was cheering, and for some reason women screaming bloody murder, as if they too were being sliced up.
When Jaxson turned around the other fighter had grabbed his blade and stood weakly against the arena's rope. He pulled his arm behind him and thrusted the blade at Jaxson's head, and as it sliced through the air Jaxson moved his head slightly to his right and watched the blade miss him by only inches. By the time the blade was just passing his face, he pulled out a smaller knife from his belt and when he stood upright from dodging the other fighter's blade, then threw it at him. The knife was propelled directly at the weaker man, perfectly rotating around its center point before penetrating his forehead.
Just moments later the man collapsed face-first to the arena's floor, motionless. Jaxson remained still, calm, and felt a slight feeling of regret for taking two men's lives- but, better theirs than his, right?
The speakers came back to life and the same man's voice rang through the arena, "That's one hell of a finish! Damn." People were still screaming, and Jaxson moved back to the area and followed a large gentlemen, nicer dressed than the bouncers outside. His hair was slicked back, and had a small stud earing in his left ear, and had a gun in the holster on his waist.
The loud racket from the arena faded as they walked down a long hallway with pictures of fighters, half-naked women, and technology. There were a few doors as they passed, and the man stopped in front of a steel door at the end of the hallway. There was a placard on the door that read "God."
What the hell? This guy has to be full of himself damn, and shouldn't that say "Devil?" Jaxson thought to himself. The man rapped on the door twice, and there was soft buzz, and the door was released from its lock.
The room was quite large for an office, and there were many weapons on the walls, paintings like the ones hanging in the hallway. There was no window, and there were several lights illuminating the room. In the center of the room was a large wooden desk, neatly polished, stacks of papers on it with a large bag on the floor next to it. Behind the desk was a smaller man than the bouncers and guards, sitting in his chair, eyeing Jaxson as he stood in front him, the devil. Aftering defeating the demons, the devil shows his face.
"Ah, yes, the cloaked wizard as it seemed. You fought pretty well, not a single scratch on you. Impressive." The man brushed his hand through his hair that was longer and almost to his shoulders. Though he dressed similarly like his own guards, he had more jewelry on and clearly had more purpose than keeping fools out.
Jaxson didn't reply more than a nod. He felt awkward standing before the man in the center of the room, and folded his arms across his chest. Though he hoped the means of this conversation would proceed to its sole purpose: the prize. "So, what is it you are wanting from me?" The smaller man looked down at his desk and waited for a response.
"I was hoping you could tell me that? What sort of"- he paused for a second, trying to manipulate the man- "'prizes do you have to offer?"
The man laughed, not sure whether Jaxson was being laughed at, or the man actually found the question to be amusing, his patience was growing thin and night nearly blanket the city. "Would you be interested in being trained here, as a..." he scratched his forehead but kept his stare on Jaxson..."more permanent asset to me and have many more prizes along the way?"
The offer took Jaxson off guard by the oppurtunity to be a permanent fighter for the devil. However, weighing the negatives and the positives still unknown, it sounded like a good deal. But he wanted to know more, the devil knows everything. "What kind of conditions and such will be implemented in such an agreement?" Though he was negotiating, he still knew he had to keep his coolness and inferiority to the man, by all means he was the one with weapons on his wall and who knew if they were loaded.
The man looked over to the wall and then to his desk. He seemed out of place and unsure of how to answer. He looked back up at Jason and smirked, "The conditions would be I house you and you fight for me. You would be here at night regardless if you fight that night, or every night."
He couldn't weigh out the possibilities and instead of declining, he accepted, but the way he said it made him feel like his uncertainty was exploited.
"Ah, splendid. I shall see you to your housing-" he paused and pulled out a document from the desks drawer-"almost forgot, you have to sign your contract."
Jaxson grabbed the pen on the end of the desk and signed where it prompt him and was escorted from the devil's office to the rest of his lair. The guard led him down the same hallway towards the arena which was still screaming for the next round, but took a turn down a different hallway. The walls were black and had no pictures, but instead five streaks of paint as if someone dipped their fingers and ran their fingers across the wall. After a few more turns and down a stairwell they finally arrived at a large door and the guard opened it and showed him the chambers.
There was five rooms each for one fighter, one door was open and empty and the large bald man said, "This is your room. Like he said, you must be here at six every night unless notified otherwise. Also, we don't operate during the weekends, so you will still have access here but no work. Any more questions?" He stood in the doorway after Jaxson entered the room.
There was a bed and a couch, a rug, a corner light and a light overhead. The walls were dark blue and there was a closet in the back. Surprisingly enough the room was better than expected from the building's outside and some interior features. "No I think I got it. Is there an easier way to get in here?" The guard pointed to a door at the other end of the corridor, "Through there it leads you to the back of the place." He turned and left the corridor with Jaxson alone in his room.
Fortunately for him, he had a place to live, despite having to fight for the devil, and today was Friday. He could rest and get familiar with the city since he literally just moved in. He had no way of telling the time, but from his tiredness and carelessness for any exploring at the moment, he shut the door to the room and fell on the bed. It took him a few long minutes to get comfortable, as soon as he did, he was out.
