𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞 [𝐇.𝐒] vol.2

𝟐

Devil's gonna make up my dyin' bed

In my time of dying

I don't want nobody to mourn

All I want for my friends to do

Is to hold up dying arms

Rag'n'Bone Man - die easy

TW/ GORE, GUNS, BLOOD

I spat blood out of my mouth as I rose my fists again feeling the side of my head ache from the blow while my fingers were screaming in pain from something, probably broke one of them when I tackled the other guy to the ground.

My hearing was a bit shot at the moment only hearing a loud ringing in one ear and the other was completely shot which meant next time I'd have to be careful to cover them from the punches. Not to mention my eyebrow that leaked blood wanting to distract one of my eyes like I wasn't fighting to stay conscious right now. I look to my left and I can see my fathers face, the hard look on it.

He was pissed, not at me. But in the position I got myself into.

Father always praised me to be a smart kid, putting my head to use so many times he often ask if I was his since he would risk his neck on impulse then use his head when things got a little to tricky.

The ring was something Uncle came up with, and it stuck.

He use to make it as a punishment for Jack when he didn't follow the code, putting the small kid to fight people with more experience more muscle but in the end he'd be the only one standing. Father found it to extreme of a punishment for a child, yet he continued it to the crew when they wanted to shove a knife in the family's back.

You fight to stay, you fight to keep your family -your life.

I smiled spitting out the blood again looking at the guy in front of me, just as fucked up as me and this was his first fight and I was already on my fifth. I shook my head as I focused to end this feeling my body was only running with adrenaline and if I didn't pump more I'd fall to the floor.

I dodge the punch he threw with a grunt, the way he's body was being aggressive towards me, the way each punch went from hard to now less force in them signaling to me he was using all his energy in the first few seconds while I kept my hands up to block the hits. The first rule my uncle told me when fighting with people like this is to tired them out make them think they got us in a corner to finish us.

In that corner you observe you're opponent watch their moves, memorize their breathing patterns and body language trying your best not to get punch in the head while your at it.

Step, punch.

Inhale, kick.

The pattern repeating over and over again until it's glued to my memory, my eyes focus on his feet watching them plan firmly on the ground before his right leg makes a step forward knowing his putting his weight into the punch. I wrap my hand around his wrist yanking with full force his arm down a bit to I could curl my arm around his with a tight grip before my knee connected with his side.