Death Has a Daughter

Ch 4 Drake the Snake

Two minutes. How could I come up with a plan in two minutes? Drake was such a dick. This had to be part of his plan. Crap. Well, I'm just going to have to go with the plan of not planning. Trying to slow my adrenaline, I forced myself to take deep breaths as I walked out into the arena. My father wasn't kidding when he said the whole realm was here. There wasn't an empty seat in the stadium. My side of the stands cheered as they saw me come out of my bench. Scanning the crowd, my eyes found my father and Dave. Front row, of course. My thumb shot straight up as I smiled at them, and they both gave me thumbs-up back. This was it.

The crowd roared again, much louder than a few moments ago, and I looked to the other bench. Drake came out and began waving his hands in the air at the crowd. He loved this. Unlike me, he had several cuts on his arm and a bruise on his left eye. This, of course, didn't make him look any less intimidating. To him, those bruises were probably as bad as a paper cut. He didn't look tired at all, and it appeared the crowd was fueling his energy. He gave me a cold stare with his dark-blue eyes, and I felt a shiver roll up my spine. I hated that I was intimidated by him. Unlike the other guys in my class that I had trained with, none were as skilled as Drake. His body was solid muscle, and he was built like a Titan legend. He was just too ridiculously strong, quick, intelligent, and amazingly good-looking. The last part had nothing to do with his fighting abilities, but I would be lying to myself if I didn't admit it was part of his distractions. The fight hadn't even started and I was already letting him affect me. As I met his cold stare, I stuck out my tongue and waved. He looked sort of shocked for a second, then let out a small smile. He had absolutely no fear of me. Maybe that could be his weakness. We both walked up to Herald.

"Ah...the time has finally come," Herald said. "I've been waiting for this since you both were six years old. The hostility you two have for one another is what has built up this fight so much! Let's make it a good one—one to go down in the record books," Herald said. He lifted his hands to silence the crowd.

"This match is for top in class for these Reapers. Both are now tied in first, so it is a winner-takes-all match. As my hands lower, this match begins!" At this, the crowd went crazy. He lowered his hands, and Drake and I each took our steps back and brought out our scythes.

We bowed, and the match began. Drake ran at me, and I did the same. Our scythes collided, and the hand-to-hand combat began. He went for a strike and I blocked it. Over and over this happened. He was too quick for me—I couldn't get a strike in. Perhaps I needed to bolt. I dodged towards the right and ran a few steps away to prepare my strike. Only a few seconds passed before he came upon me again. He was trying to make it go back to one-on-one strikes again. If I let that happen, this fight would be over in a minute.

As he charged at me again, I jumped, using the move to bring my scythe down and smack him on the back of the head. Flipping out of his way, I landed with a roll to his left and spun around. His eyes started blinking rapidly, meaning the impact had made good contact, but it wasn't slowing him down. He took a deep breath and again came at me. Blocking was useless because he was too strong. He stepped out and spun his leg high, and I braced myself. His kick landed square in my chest, sending me flying. Already winded from that kick, the remainder of my air rushed from my lungs as my body collided with the stadium wall.

A rustic bitter taste pooled into my mouth and drowned my tongue. My lips opened and I felt the blood trickle out between breaths. This wasn't good. I lifted my neck and felt it ache as my eyes caught Drake readying himself to attack again.

It was a good thing he had struck my body so hard that I flew to the other side of the stadium. This at least bought me some time for the spinning to ease and for me to assemble myself. I attempted to get up. Pain and weariness took my legs out from under me before I had even made it to an upright position. I cried out in pain as I realized my left leg was probably fractured. Trying again, I endeavored to keep as much weight on my right leg as possible, and this time I was able to struggle to my feet. Every part of my body ached and begged for me to quit, but I couldn't...not now.