{August, 30th}

Inhale.

Bright blinding lights, the choking odor of cigarette smoke.

Exhale.

The roar of a hundred people cheering in both outrage, and excitement.

Inhale.

The hood of my black robe hangs down over my forehead, perfectly concealing half my face.

Exhale.

Heart beating wildly in my ears, muscles stiff as a board, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Sweat streaming down my forehead, into my eyes.

Inhale.

Hands pushing me roughly forward, into the mob of people.

Exhale.

I keep my face neutral. The rancid smell of body-odor, stinging my nostrils.

Inhale.

The crowd opens up, allowing a pathway for me to advance through.

Exhale.

So many different faces I've never seen, flashing quickly before my eyes as I pass them.

Inhale.

I feel the uncomfortable scrape across my covered back as I slip in-between the two ropes, going into the ring.

Exhale.

My eyes scan across the cushioned mat, landing on my buff opponent.

Inhale.

Heart accelerating faster as I examine him, chest clinching painfully tight.

Exhale.

Six foot two, huge shoulders, muscles popping out all over, a smirk on his face as he takes in my slim frame and half concealed youthful face.

Inhale.

Someone suddenly takes my robe off, my boxing shorts the only piece of clothing left. Leaving all to see the scars that cover me.

Exhale.

I hear gasps run through the crowd, my opponent all of a sudden not looking so sure of himself anymore.

Inhale.

Self-consciousness consumes me, making me want to run and hide.

Exhale.

But I can't. This is all normal for me now. Part of my life.

Inhale.

I straighten up, squaring my shoulders as I mentally prepare myself. My expressionless eyes locked onto only one thing, watching my opponent for any weaknesses.

Exhale.

A fresh bruise on his left side, directly underneath his arm. His right shoulder hanging lower than the left, signaling a once broken shoulder blade.

Inhale.

I can win this. There's no option for losing.

Exhale.

I shake my arms out, bouncing on my heels. Adrenaline running through my veins at full force.

Inhale.

I get pushed forward again, towards the middle of the ring.

Exhale.

I raise my gloved hands up, positioning them in front of my face like I've been taught. Walking out to meet my opponent halfway.

Inhale.

The announcer stops us in the middle.

Exhale.

My hard, cold eyes stay focused on my opponent. Watching, waiting.

Inhale.

You would think that after everything I've done, everything I've been through. I'd finally get a break....A End. A happily ever after.

Exhale

But no.

Inhale.

A sudden quiet takes over the room. Then, a loud ringing fills it.

Exhale.

Signaling the start.

Inhale.

My opponent tenses, his right arm swinging out. His face one of pure anger.

Exhale.

This is only the beginning.

I immediately block his incoming fist with the outside of my left arm, retaliating with a power filled jab to his right shoulder.

Eyes unmoving from their one target.

He falls back a step, a pained grunt escaping his lips as he bounces on his feet. Looking me over with careful consideration.

I quickly step forward, throwing a left hook that he blocks with his right glove. My right hand goes up and around, smacking into his unsuspecting head.

His head jerks to the side, my left fist already swinging back towards him.

The air leaves his lungs as I land a solid blow to his stomach, my hand snapping back up to protect my face.

We circle each other, both of us in the typical stance. Hands guarding your face, elbows angled down.

His eyes land on my own stomach, obviously noticing where the 'old' knife wound is red and irritated after Ben's little temper tantrum last week.

Idiot.

He jabs forward, making the rookie decision of keeping your eyes on your potential target.

I immediately smack his incoming punch away, stepping forward into his space as I send a rapid fire of crosses to his stomach and upper chest before smoothly stepping away.

The crowd cheers, a loud outcry mixed with the usual cursing and pouts.

He sends another punch to my stomach, trying to catch me off guard. I fold my middle in, his gloved fist missing me by a few mere millimeters.

I swing around in a overhand, firmly catching him on the side of the head again. His eyes widen in pain, his body slightly falling to the left from the force of my punch.

He bounces away, looking at me with a barely masked emotion deep in his eyes.

Fear.

I shrug my shoulders out, my chin angled down as I stare at him from my spot five feet away.

My nostrils flare with each breath, sweat falling down my forehead.

I abruptly clear the five foot gap in less than two seconds, my arm already blocking the punch at my face I'd already subconsciously prepared for.

I knock it away, sending two quick jabs up at his exposed face. His face snaps back with each one, his lips bleeding.

The bounce in his steps are noticeably less bouncy, a slight wobble in his form. He reals back with his right arm, sending a right hook to my face.

I duck underneath it, sliding to my left in one quick movement. I pop up, swinging my left arm around.

His surprised face automatically turns back to face me from my position at his exposed back, a look of pure bewilderment on his face growing larger with each second.

I put all my strength into my left arm, swinging my whole body forward with it, my face tight as I concentrate.

It connects with his face that's foolishly peeking over his shoulder, his eyes immediately rolling back in his head as it makes purchase.

He hits the ground like a stack of bricks. Out cold.

I keep my face angled down at the mat, my hands lowering back to my sides as I register the fact that he is indeed done.

It's done.

I get a sudden urge to sit down, my legs suddenly like jello as blood rushes to my head. A almost dizzying sensation hitting me.

But I restrain myself, straightening my back and holding my mask up as the announcer walks back up on stage.

Two hundred people - the largest crowd yet, are standing, some looking excited, and some looking like they want to beat the nearest guy to a bloody pulp.

The announcer grabs my tense left arm, raising it up above my head.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep a groan in as my sore muscles protest from the movement, some bruises not yet completely healed.

I'm suddenly ushered off the mat, a emotionless Frances and Felix immediately meeting me as I step down to the floor.

Felix gives me a encouraging smile, carefully placing my robe around my shoulders without having me actually put my arms in first.

Frances leads us up the crowded pathway, Felix pushing people away as they reach out towards me.

I keep my eyes down, my shoulders scrunched together as I try to make myself as small as possible in hopes I can escape the crowd.

A relieved breath instantly flows from my mouth as we step into the quiet hallway, Frances turning towards the direction of the locker room.

I take a seat on the bench as soon as we walk inside, laying my hands in my lap as I look down at them.

Frances heads back to the door, opening it. "I'll be back." He simply says before walking out and shutting the door.

The room grows quiet, Felix coming to stand in front of me.

I keep my eye down on my lap as he unlaces my right glove, immediately doing my left afterwards.

He gently pulls my hand out, my fingers still curled in a fist. He carefully unfolds each of my stiff fingers, working on unrolling the hand wrap from around them as he examines my hand.

He holds my right wrist with his left hand, holding my fingers with his right as he expertly looks my bare hand over while rotating it.

Black-ish purple mar my knuckles like a moldy piece of bread, fingers still not 100% straight. Curled like a cruel claw.

He then takes some type of rubbing cream, spreading it over my whole hand as he massages the sore muscles out.

I bite my lip this time, pain running all the way up my arm.

He finishes with my right hand after a almost excruciating whole two minutes, and I immediately tuck it in between the area of my left arm and my left side as I notice the slight tremble in it.

He does the same to my left hand - it looking basically identical, my concentration only on keeping it from trembling.

I tuck that one in between my right arm and side once he finishes, eyes still downcast.

I automatically tense as the door opens, the familiar steps of Ben echoing around the room.

"See! I told you that pain medicine would work!" He happily yells, that spark of the old Ben coming out in his words.

I fist my hands, ignoring the pain that comes with doing so.

After Ben's little tantrum last week he basically made my stomach return back to that annoying mess it had been no more than four weeks ago.

Only it seemed worse to me.

I'd been sleeping in the cursed 'dark room' this past week just as Ben had instructed, nothing but a thin mat on the floor to sleep on.

I'd been handling the stomach discomfort the best I could for the first two to three days, it still being considered 'normal' for me seeing as I'd been living with that for two months.

But then at the end of the third day it all just seemed to get worse.

Discomfort became painful. Painful became unbearable.

Add Frances's relentless workout plans he repeatedly has me doing - didn't even give me a day to recuperate, plus a few other beatings I'd rather not talk about. And you get a mess.

Basically I couldn't eat a thing without throwing it up five minutes afterwards, I had a raging fever, and I couldn't move without wanting to keel over and die.

Everything else seemed to have healed fine - though I still have bruises, even the brand doesn't feel as tender as it first had.

Though that could just be because the stomach pain overrides everything else.

Who knows.

So Ben showed up yesterday morning proclaiming he had something to fix the 'problem.' Even though it's his fault in the first place.

Then they practically forced me to swallow some pill that I had zero desire to swallow, making me gag in the process.

Don't ask me what it was, because I've got no idea.

No one tells me anything around here.....And I'm not really sure I want to know what it is anyway.

I did hear Frances talking all hush hush with Ben, asking something about it better not be illegal.

I'm pretty sure Ben said it wasn't. But I could be wrong.

Everything they're doing down here is illegal.

But sure enough, the pain began to disappear- slowly yet surely, within five hours of taking it.

Now it's just a dull ache in my stomach, a feeling like it's been numbed.

And Ben is now permanently adding whatever that is to my list of medication. Without the medical consult of course.

He stops a few feet to my left. "And what a show that was. Not hit once!" His voice is coated with satisfaction, a bounce in his step.

"Keep on doing that and you'll stay out of that dark room. Just as promised." He assures, not really making me feel assured.

He points at Felix. "Keep up the good work!" He tells him, a smile in his voice as he walks back towards the door.

"Though, Alex. We've decided you'll still be spending a night in there once a week. Just a precaution."

My heart drops, my breath catching.

Frances passes Ben as he walks back in, ben giving him a thump on the shoulder in greeting. "Yes, yes. Keep up the good work indeed!" His voice fades out the door.

I catch Ben looking at me with a deep sadness, a spark of indecision in his eyes.

I turn my head away, blinking rapidly as I work on digging my heart back up from somewhere in my stomach.

Is anything ever enough?

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
A/N

Hey y'all! Maggy here!

Attention! New book!

So I've recently just started yet another book. (I know *sighs*) Whispers of a past. Which is a werewolf book.

Please! Check it out! I'm pretty much begging here! ❤️😁

I'm also holding a cover contest in the Wing Awards book if anyone's interested or knows someone who could be! (Tag them in it!)

Ooh, did you also notice I used the prologue for the first half of the chapter? That's because this chapter is when the prologue takes place. (If that makes any sense.)

Questions:

1.) Who feels bad for Alex? (✋🏻me 😭)

2.) Who's going to check out my new book? 😇😇

3.) Any ideas as-to what this is all leading up to?

Next update: Next week hopefully.

Maggy