1 Clash for Cash

Where am I?

Darkness.

My body decided to bail on me; quivered without my control. So much for confidence, I had no awareness of my surroundings, nor did I have the luxury of moving. My arms were reinforced in what felt like handcuffs behind my back. As for my feet, you could say I was trapped in quicksand without the suffocating sink. For all I knew, I could be naked on one of the main streets of the city. Whether I was clothed or not, my natural scrawny body would still be judged. I just wanted to know my location. As cliche as it sounded, I received my answer sooner than expected.

Below me, my feet felt the sand slithering through my toes as the ground rumbled. That didn't cause my body to jump into the next gear of fear. It wasn't too harsh, it felt like a minor magnitude earthquake. Of course, I'd adapted to a condition like that, the entire city of Gariten was immune to the occasional little earthquakes. The one I was experiencing right now didn't increase its violence, it seemed to have maintained a consistent subtle shake. Perhaps this was the doing of someone or something. I remained composed with foolish trembles running through my body.

From what my ears allowed me to hear, the sound of enthusiastic chants and cheer caught me off guard. This had to be a public sporting event. As my memory rummaged through the timeline of my brain, no proper answer could be given. Creepily, the depressing sound of metal slowly ran across bars as if whoever made it, was trapped in a lonely cell. Untimed foot stomping defied the faded echo. This confirmed that the public was around me. In the worst case scenario, I may have been captured by a cult.

"WELCOME FOLKS OF MANY, TO CFC!!" A voice boomed through a microphone.

The excitement revolving me amplified from just a simple announcement. The same voice then proceeded to give instructions.

"FIGHTERS, REMOVE YOUR BLINDFOLDS!!"

In that instant, the sound of a key turning a lock freed my arms. It was then decided that I was a "fighter." I obeyed the orders out of the intuitive scene that loomed with a spiteful mood.

"What the heck, a warehouse?" I swiftly whipped my eyes across the vicinity.

A golden ray of light pierced through the thin openings of the rusty ceiling. My eyes widened to see the life of the wide store from graffiti artwork on the chained walls. They were all colourful with unique patterns and exotic gradients. This definitely wasn't a cult by any chance, more so of a small society wanting to isolate themselves away from the rest of Gariten. I couldn't help but let a grin slip onto my mouth to be immersed in a lively dynamic. The interior reminded me much of a custom bodywork mechanic, the kind that has all the cool cars modified to look unrealistic to drive. Although I'd seen them on the internet, the spacious atmosphere was livened from the bright neon lights and artworks.

Another thing was decided for me, the iron cage enclosing my freedom would only be open if I won or admitted to defeat. I heard remarks about my body not having any bionic parts. The thin iron bars allowed hands to pass through the gap, as if they were zombies trying to contaminate me.

The people around me passioned for one thing - fighting. Their half mechanical bodies grabbed onto iron bars creating a ruckus. Different parts of their bodies replaced by an artificial aspect. Whether it was an eye or an arm - all of them had the similarity of having a bionic body part. Most of the watchers wore dark clothing, leather jackets, trench coats, black boots, grey long sleeves. A retro style yet compelling a gangster vibe. In a way, they sort of looked like character designs from Grand Theft Auto V or Cyberpunk 2077. I wasn't one to judge, I conformed to society by wearing similar sci-fi clothing. Although, I failed to have mechanical adjustments to my body... just like them.

"ON THE RIGHT, WE HAVE GERO."

My name.

Either I was kidnapped to participate in this fight club or obliged to these conditions, they somehow obtained my name. A dreadful thought crossed my mind - what else did they know about me? I didn't want to sound like a "wuss" and create my own problems by asking how and when they got my information. The announcer calling out my name then proceeded to introduce another person.

"ON THE LEFT...." Pausing dramatically.

A drumroll begun, progressively the tempo fastened creating hype for the other fighter.

"WE HAVE RENJA." All the hype channeled into the finishing line.

I chuckled at the ridiculousness of it, perhaps this was to scare me. Or maybe, this was to showoff how tough this "fighter" was.

"Where's the spotlight for them." I asked sarcastically. No one took notice, they focused their attention to the well known fighter.

Without taking notice, I looked across the cage to see a quiet figure standing without any reaction to her praises. A polished double headed crimson axe dangled from her soft grip, glowing like polished rubies. I stared it down by how mesmerising it was, my mind turned off for a mere seconds until a loud clank snapped me out of the trance.

A black sword darker than an abyss lay crying for someone to pick them up. Gero gazed down at the red sand and struck his right hand out to pick the weapon up. The sword was just an ordinary blade with a metallic black finish to the metal. The male fighter had no struggle when wielding the sword. In fact, it felt just right to him. Not too heavy for his arm or too light that he couldn't control it.

"FOLKS, PLACE YOUR BETS AND LET THE DUEL BEGIN!!!"

The half mechanical watchers erupted with all their excitement. Was it always like this, Gero thought.

Once Gero was given the green light to attack, a struggle occurred to move in the red sand. His expression deceived the audience that he was fine moving. The crowd cheered as he immediately started the fight. After about five strides, he gradually sped up, striking his sword in front of him. A cocky grin followed him as he neared to slice his fearless opponent.

*Clang*

White sparks flew from the converge of an axe and sword.

An uproar of cheer erupted around the iron cage.

I was transfixed on the joy found on my opponent's face. Her eyes lit up with a bare confidence. Possibly, it was the sound of weapons converging that awoke her into battle. I was certain that she couldn't have felt that joy seconds prior. I found myself just losing concentration; gradually I started to accept the weight of her axe. As my knees bend to reduce the pressure, my feet started to dig themselves into the sand.

From recollection, her name was Renja - cool name with a badass appearance. A black headband prevented any of her shiny purple hair falling into her black pearl eyes. Surprisingly, her frail body had deceived me into thinking there was no body strength within her. That being said, I only assumed that because her torso was covered in an oversized black hoodie. From the waist onward, she wore black cargo pants and her boots below were polished finely.

*CRACK*

Again, I lost the task at hand, my mind snapped back into the duel. More sparks dispersed as my black long sword competed for dominance against the crimson axe in Renja's left hand. My temptation had to be tamed, I wanted so desperately to ask how she was wielding a weapon in her left hand. It's simple, she was probably born to handle weapons with her left hand. But what if she endured rough training to master a technique like that. Ahh - just stray from all these possibilities I kept reminding myself.

Seemingly, I must've bored Renja with just withstanding her force. She hopped so swiftly as if she was an acrobat. I recollected my balance and repositioned my stance. The audience switched sides to rooted for Renja as she prepared to put on a show with a winded up attack. Clearly, she was fit for a fight like this. Who knew how long she'd been participating in this... "club".

It hit me like a strike of lighting. Her devilish axe sliced my arm with ease, like I was just paper to her. She didn't hesitate at all with blood. Maybe she was possessed with the adrenaline running in her veins. I guess her advantage was her honed axe skills to cut weak people like me. My suffering was far from over. Blood proceeded to farewell from my body. I resisted any anguish getting exposed to the crowd.

I moved around the cage, trying to evade anything with my black blade. I admit, her attacks and slashed were translucent. The watchers quieted to witness grief being displayed. Her axe swiftly scarred through the air. Was she even trying to hit me? Seconds later her wrath hit me like a gust of wind. From hindsight, I assumed she thought this experience like training against a dummy, swinging with maximum force with so much ease. Her movement varied as she exchanged between lunges and short run ups. Her empty expression started to form a smile from the pleasant of her. I was a barricade to her victory, still standing and carrying my strand of pride with the accumulated bruises.

A villainous smile exposed her vicious fangs. Stretching abnormally across her cheeks, a chuckle of amusement burst out. Blood pouring onto the sand, pain accumulated from the exposure to the air.

"This is fun, isn't it." She laughed manically as her eyes caught sight of the desperation found in my eyes.

Her double headed axe barely slit my throat. A line of red slowly split open, revealing the liquid she desired to see.

The psychopathic laugh that rung in my ears got louder as I was aware with her doing. The rumbling increased as it prompted Renja for more grief. Content, her black snakelike eyes that pierced through my confidence expanded as her insanity went up another level.

"I want to see more of your ruby blood." She shouted with joy.

Gripping tightly, she threw her axe aimed for my shoulder. My right hand lurked forward from the force of some. Luckily it brought some time to defence against the axe. Out As crazy as it sounded, maybe the sword had character of its own and ensured to save my life from an out of control murderer. Once again the weapons fought, this time there was no chance of anyone receding. Slipping easily against the black blade, the crimson axe managed to dig deep into my left shoulder. A cold sensation confirmed that the lethal injection was conducted. The head of the axe deepened with a squelch, blood rapidly burst free from my vessel.

"YESS!" Renja cried with overloaded happiness.

With all the suffering, Gero accepted his fate and collapsed on the grainy ground. Barely looking up, his face scrunched up with the terror of the nightmare, he wrapped himself in a human ball trying to prevent his blood escaping. Renja lifted her axe right in the air, dripping with Gero's blood, the almighty crimson axe was right to kill her cocky opponent.

"Now, time to finish you off." She soothed as she licked her lips.