Blades and Bullets

4. Showtime

TW: this chapter contains mention of abuse, rape and drug abuse

I furrow my brows, squinting my eyes as I glare at him. Steading myself in a fighting stance, I bounce on my toes to give the illusion that I'm prepared to strike. He in turn steadies himself, preparing to defend.

That will be his first mistake.

Swiftly, I slide low to the ground and glide between his legs. Once I reach behind him, I kick in both of his knees using them to propel myself into a handspring. As he toppels over while I land gracefully, he stares at me hatefully.

His second mistake.

While his gaze is busy holding mine - which is sharp enough to cut through me like a piece of lamb at the butchers - I wind my fist back and slam it directly into his nose. The crack of his bones echo throughout the hushed audiences as they draw in sympathetic breaths.

Clearly I had been focusing too much on the audience's reaction to watch what was going on. because the next thing I know I'm on the ground, his arms caging me in.

"Five," the speaker blared.

"Four."

Shit! I need to get out!

"Three."

Struggling, I try to loosen his grip, but it's no use. He watches me hopelessly claw at his arms, a large grin plastered on his face. Motherfucker.

"Two!" The crowd suddenly joins in with the speaker, increasing the volume and making it harder for me to concentrate. If they could all just shut up!

"One!"

At the last second, his grip loosens slightly and it's enough for me to make a move.

His third mistake.

I use this chance to shoot my legs up and grip him tightly around the neck. Using all of my body weight, I haul myself over him and back bend, pulling my legs up and over my head. The momentum forces him to go flying over me and land on his back with a loud bang. "Fuck," he groans, his voice deep and throaty.

As he lies on his back, my legs still gripped around his neck, I clench harder around his throat.  He needs to tap out before he suffocated after all, and best case scenario - he doesn't. The lack of oxygen causes him to begin clawing at my thighs, though his eyes hold little panic.

I smile brightly as I hear the countdown.

"Five!"

"Four!" The crowd is wild, they didn't expect the turnover.

"Three!"

I refuse to make the same mistake he did. I keep the pressure around his throat until I feel a hard knock on the back of my head feel myself being pushed off of him.

His face is red, but not as dark as the blood that is dripping down from his nose. He is mad, probably pissed he's getting his ass beat by a girl half his size, I roll my eyes at him.

"Did I already knock out your brain? Because you seem to be doing an awful lot of search for one," he grins maniacally. Already had that one shot at me buddy.

I snarl at his retort, "You know I would ask you to punch my head again just to double check, but I doubt you could even land the hit. I mean it's not like you have so far."

That's it, I've got him right where I want him.

His fourth and last mistake, letting his emotions control his actions. Something that I will never, ever do.

He lunges at me and I brace myself against the elastic, preparing to use his own weight against him. As he charges at me, I wrap my legs around his waist and once again use his momentum to pull him up and over the edge of the ring. Honestly, it's almost easier to fight someone bigger than you. The force of his speed causes him to go flying into the audience.