Guardian Angel

OVERDURABLE

"I want to fight!"

My high pitched voice drew every eyeball at me. Shorter than all of the fighters in the basement, a few toothy smirks appeared and some even confused about how I even got in.

"Mercury, don't do that!" Bobcat snarled through his teeth. He extended his arm towards me and I gave it a light slap, and walked over to the chalk circle against his advice. A bald guy with fighting gloves on turned, and saw me. He took off his gloves and let me wear them.

Many people were confused, but I was adamant on proving myself strong. Even if it meant going against a man. This was a huge gamble - depending on who was going to throw punches at me.

"Hey, flapper!"

I turned and expected to get harassed in some way. But it wasn't, instead, Bobcat's coach threw me the flask from earlier, which was absolutely pungent with the little bit of gin at the bottom.

"I can drink this?"

"As much as you want, it'll keep you alert!"

Never have I heard the advice that hard alcohol would keep me awake. And to fight while I'm hammered? Bad idea.

Then again... a bit wouldn't hurt. I have good tolerance, especially from all of the times I drank underage. So, getting a small buzz wouldn't affect my accuracy too much, and instead could boost my endurance a little bit.

For someone as frail as me? Some extra 'hit points' was the make or break decision. I put the flask to my lips and downed the entire thing. My throat felt the spice first, then the heat spread to my heart. I jumped up and down to get in shape, as I got in the chalk circle. I threw my sweater and flask to Bobcat, so I was nice and mobile.

"So, nobody's gonna step up? Afraid to fight me?"

I wasn't convincing enough. Clearly, to them, watching a girl get flattened was not an entertaining show, which I was confused by. Wouldn't a girl fighter make for some more unique entertainment?

I started taking the gloves off, giving up. There was no way in hell. Not a chance I'd be getting that coffee.

"Just a minute!" I felt a wrinkly hand on my arm. A huge, overweight guy in a suit almost popped my bicep with a little squeeze.

He turned his head and called a girl over. "Alice!" She took a cigarette out of her mouth. She was slim, but looked quite fit. Stretching her arms, she threw the stub away and got right up close to my face.

She looked me up and down. "Very brittle," she grinned and turned away from my staredown. The fat guy dinged the bell with the same butter knife, and I raised my hands to surrender. But I took a hard knuckle to the forehead and stumbled backwards in disarray.

"Fuck! Why the sucker punch?!"

"You want a fight, let's fight!"

I ducked my head and slipped my hand through the glove again, then socked the woman in her solar plexus, returning her a few feet backwards. Then I cracked my knuckles and traced my attacker with my eyes.

Triceps - bulging.

Glutes - solid like steel.

Rectus femoris - swift.

I bit my lip and let her swing, wasting her energy. A smoker wouldn't be immune to being winded, so I could waste her energy. But her dodges were good. I was certain that she was an experienced fighter with some clear vices. The most vulnerable one? Her ferocity.

"Come on, hit me! Hit me!"

Though she was good at protecting her face, I went from the side with my hands spread, scratching her instead. It pissed her off badly and had her hitting me in the head. The drink from earlier numbed every sting this lass gave and I felt indestructible. I continued to take hits like I was that one dinosaur with a hard head, and then let my knee smash her diaphragm.