Posted in The Guardian

Chapter II

Zeliana.

The two of us step into a clearing that was full of men and highly trained entertainers. A bar fight was going on to my right, and the center had a ring of men yelling and chanting.

“COME ON!! GET EM!!!”

“RIGHT CLUB! RIGHT CLUB!”

“SWIG THAT CHEATING BASTARD!!!”

A fight club. The men were scrawny and buff, some had tattoos and scars running all of their bodies while some were neatly dressed in a suit. None the less their appearance, they all sounded like man men with their loud and slurred voices.

“Um, Rosaline, I don’t think I should be here.” My voice trembles.

“Oh nonsense, it’ll be fine sweetie.” She casually says. “Here, have a drink. It’ll loosen you up, make you feel more relaxed.” She hands me a multicolored cocktail. I take the swig in one gulp and all of a sudden I could hear myself cheer on a fighter.

“COME ON GET HIM!!” I yell towards the younger one. His black long ponytail wisps around like the wind. And he glances towards me. I swear I could feel his stare in my eyes.

Odd. My voice? It’s distorted and slurred. Like the many others. Time begins to mash together, and I can barely tell what’s happening.

I snap into focus and I find myself on the outtrim of a fight circle. My head is throbbing, and my body aches all over. I’m surrounded by drunkards and it’s seems like I was drugged. Where the bloody tarnations am I? I see Rosaline. She’s holding a sign that says round- wait. AM I IN A BLOODY FIGHT? OH GODS EL WILL MURDER ME!!!

I inch towards Rosaline with a petrified look in my eyes. “Um, Rosaline?”

She looks at me, with a “you got yourself into this mess and I’m not helping you” look. Poppycock. Okay Ze, let’s get this over with and go home. Nothing would have happened. I turn a bit, to take a good look of my opponent.

Male. Coal hair that is pulled into a ponytail? How very queer. Tall. Perhaps clumsy? I don’t get to finish my analyzing, for a bell triggers, signaling the starts of this round. Round 4 was it? I step forward, hands gripped on my knifes. Ready, and waiting.

He inches forward, and then like a fox he slinks forward within a blink. His agility was unbelievable. He swings a backwards kick at me, but I duck in the nick of time. I feel the breeze from his kick.

Yipes.

I gracefully leap back, and swipe my knives out.

This bitch is goin down.

I rush in and swipe my right hand across. His body blurs to to the left and I throw my left arm in. He dodges, but not quick enough. A red line oozes blood across his right cheek. His eyes narrow in a threatening glare, and with his palm he rubs off the trickling blood.

As we fight, it was as if I was a fairy and he was trying to catch me. He kept reaching out, and every time he was within a reach, I would pull back like a gypsy. And dance gracefully and swiftly.

Enough of this dancing party. I’ll end this before he can blink.

I spin around and my knife aims for his face. And yet, he wasn’t behind me, instead dust cloud had formed in his place. I grit my teeth in frustration.

“Coward! Come out little mouse!” I yell, throwing my worst insults at him. Well I admit, I need to work on my insults, but that can happen another time.

“Instead of me coming out, you come in kitty.” His silky voice hypnotized me, but I caught myself just before I reached into the death storm.

Damn. He was good. Gods Ze get it together. Tune him out. DON’T LET HIM GET TO YOU.

After knocking sense into myself, I choose my words carefully.

“The mouse has to take the bait right?” I yell to no one in particular with my arms spread open, as if I were on my deathbed. Well I’m probably on my deathbed considering how screwed I am.

“Aw, is the pussy cat to scared to come fight the mousie?” His voice sickened the reason out of me.

In all my madness, I rushed into the cloud, never expecting the unexpected.

It’s a misty palace, well somewhat. I take slow steady steps, and am careful to not make any noise. Learning how to fight was a raised skilled.

“Mama why do they laugh at us? Mama why do they mock us?”

“It doesn’t matter why. What matters is how you deal with it.”

“B-but Mama, how do I block them out? Mama, mama how do I stop it? How do I stop them?” A tear slides from cheek and my cheek is wet. My breath is uneven, and it’s scares me. And yet, I had no idea how little this was compared to other scary things, or how big it could be too. See, in a way it’s small, because outside of that tiny world of mine, was war, death, all that serious nonsense, and yet it was so big at the same time, because it was only the beginning on that larger road. A larger road that, will lead to death.

“Zelly, think about your actions and how they affect people. Think, should you walk away with your pride full, or your head hanging in shame?”

“With my pride full, and my head held high for all to admire,” I began to say, and my mum had finished with me.

As fucking if I was going to just walk away. My slight chuckles turn into a fit of laughter as I think about what my mum told me.

Not to self: Never take advice on personal matters.

I clear my head and take a glance in my surroundings. Alright, so he’s nowhere in my peripheral vision, and so than can only mean one thing.

I hear the light step behind me, and then it hits me. No, it doesn’t hit me physically, more of a reaction that hit me. My elbow bends into a deadly point, and I take a quick jab behind me while I step back. I hit a soft spot, or what I think is a soft spot.

There we go. There’s the Zelly I know.

I quickly spin around and target the closest thing to me with my knife. His thigh. Oh shit. Oh crap. I did it again. I hurt someone again. That’s all I do. All I ever do is cause pain.

He falls back, and I quickly slide my blad out of him, and scream for help. I scream, and everything turns into a blur again. He’s taken away, and I’m pulled from the angry mob to a group of men. No wait, women. No. A woman. A mean lookin’ one too.

I feel a dull object hit me on the head, and my senses disappear. Everything goes black, and that when I hear the faint words echoing in the blackness of my mind;

What the fuck did I get myself into.

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Author:

I write, I rant and I ramble, but it's not the best.

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