Saving the World - Awakening

The Duel(s)

Not even a full day here and Eliot was already asked to beat someone up.  He was growing to like this place, despite its odd quirks.  He hadn't really beat someone since the knife dealer, it was high time he took out his anger on someone rather than keeping it inside of him.

"Pick your weapon." B motioned to the table.

Eliot eyed the table warily.  He didn't have any skill with the sword, staff or spear, and only knew how to use a knife and a gun.  There was the boxing tape, and he definitely knew how to move around. He reached over and picked up the tape.  B looked at him and nodded in approval, noticing his choice.

After they both taped their hands up, they walked to the dueling area.  B hadn't said anything since he instructed him to pick a weapon, which was unnerving.  Eliot didn't know what he had expected when the idea of B training him had come to his mind, but it wasn't this seemingly reverent treatment of combat.

Eliot and B took their places apart from each other and Eliot watched B warily.  He knew that if he were to have a chance at winning, he would need to be at his best.  Fortunately for him, he was well rested and fully awake.  B positioned himself almost sideways, a stance that Eliot had never seen before.  He waited for B to make the first move, but neither of them seemed to want to break the tension.

B looked over to his right, where the exit was.  He started to say something, attempting to distract Eliot, but Eliot moved swiftly in and punched B in the side.  Surprised, B attempted to recover, lowering his arms to protect himself, but Eliot had never felt so alive.  He sidestepped and feinted to B's gut, causing him to defend himself there, but then Eliot used his other fist to hit B in the sternum. His punch knocked the breath out of B, and Eliot took advantage of the weakness to beat down on him, raining blows onto B's face and arms until B was on the ground, bleeding.

B held his hand up just as Eliot went in to hit him again.  Eliot halted his fist and checked to make sure B was not mortally wounded.  B started to get up, and sprung forward in a last, desperate attempt to land at least one blow on Eliot.  He sidestepped and B fell to the ground, defeated.

"Is this ever gonna end, or are you just gonna embarrass yourself more?" Eliot laughed.

B rolled over, groaning. "I don't think you'll need much help in this area."

Eliot extended his hand to B and smirked.  Every time someone didn't take him seriously, he showed them that they were wrong, and this was a perfect example.  Unfortunately, B learned his lesson and would not let Eliot win so easily next time.  B grabbed Eliot's hand and Eliot lifted him off the ground. His's face was covered in blood, and bruises covered his arm and probably everywhere else Eliot had punched.

Without a word, the two walked over to the table and took off the boxing tape.  Eliot's tape was covered with blood, but only on the knuckles, and B's had a gross mix of blood and grass stains on it.  They discarded the tape, and B picked up the pistol and handed it to Eliot, motioning towards a target on the other end of the clearing.

"Get as good at shooting as you are punching, then we can talk about why you're really here."  B said to Eliot, surprisingly not angered at all at the beat down Eliot had given him.

Eliot nodded his head and took the pistol, instantly looking it over and familiarizing himself with its features.  After he felt satisfied, he looked over to B too get the go ahead.   B had cleaned his face off and looked to be paying attention.  Eliot cocked the gun suddenly and shot at the target.  After a slight adjustment, he shot four more times.  After the fourth, he turned around and walked as far away as he could from the target, then turned around and shot without a hesitation. 

B shook his head in amazement. Despite more blood running down into his eye, he noticed the natural talent Eliot had.  He clapped his hands as he walked over to the target.  Each shot was within the first three circles, not perfectly in the middle, but good enough to prove the point that Eliot knew what he was doing.

Eliot sidled up to B and pretended to be analyzing the target.  B raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged.

"Where did you learn all of this?" B asked.

"It's kill or be killed.  I chose to kill.  If you let your guard down, you'll get run over."  Eliot motioned to the table, "Do you need me to skewer you before you tell me your big secret?"

"Go back to your room and shower.  I'll clean up, then we will have a meeting with all those involved in this, but not until 20:00.  Do what you wish until then."

Eliot felt relieved.  He could beat B all he wanted, but he would never tell him anything if he didn't want to.  This way, he could know why he was even in this strange place.  At least he wouldn't be completely immersed in the Side Show.

B walked towards the exit, and Eliot relaxed.  There was no more fighting.  He looked around at the strange arena-like area.  He hadn't noticed the training equipment or any of the targets on the wall when he had walked in, but now he could acquaint himself properly to his surroundings.

The sun peeked through the gap between the four buildings, filling the training area with light.  The buildings that composed the the walls of the area were made of brick.  Unlike his area of Islington, the brick looked to be well kept, and not chipped or filled with bullet holes or graffiti.  There were metal rods attached to hinges for the punching bags folded onto the wall.  Seemingly random bricks stuck out from the walls, across all of the walls, and there was a rope attached to the roof and streaming down to the ground.

He looked at the table and wondered where the equipment came from.  Looking around, he saw a cleverly concealed handle and walked towards it, curious.  He pulled it open and it revealed an entire armory, full of guns, blades and other exotic looking weapons.  There was a large pile of boxing tape, with smaller punching bags and kits to set up them up.  He looked around for a backpack or some way to conceal it. 

After searching for a few minutes, he found a knapsack, presumably used for the transportation of the blades or the ammo.  It looked to be big enough to carry one of the smaller punching bags, which was about as long as his arm.  He packed the punching bag into the knapsack along with the kit, and went to leave.  He grabbed a couple rolls of boxing tape and even noticed a blade sharpener, small enough to fit inside the knapsack.  He tucked it all away and prepared to look nonchalant, determined not to get caught.

He closed up the closet and left the arena.  He grabbed the map out of his pocket and made his way back to his secluded room. Samantha had led him in a hard-to-follow path, making the task of getting back to his room even harder.  The path back to his room was somewhat direct, if the map was correct.

On the way, he saw several people.  One man was chanting over a small bucket, he looked to be the janitor.  There didn't seem to be any reason for him to chant, but it sounded important.  Another woman was on the ground, stiff as a board, in front of someone's room door.  Maybe she was protesting something?  Another little girl was playing with a headless horseman action figure and a headless doll.  Apparently "headless" was all the rage for children here.

Finally, he reached his room.  Relieved to have made it without interference, he laughed nervously. No one seemed to care about anything here, they didn't judge because they were probably twice as strange. He set the bag down on the ground next to his bed and looked at it, surprised he had managed to smuggle something so big.  He had to admit to himself: it felt good.

No time to rest, though, he wanted to set up the punching bag and get a real workout in.  As he set to work on the bag, he took a deep breath.  He was ready to learn why he was so important to B.