Liber De Morte

Chapter Seven

After a few matches, Randy dug his hands into the bowl again. "William Benett," he called out, then reached in again. "and Alana Easton."

The group cleared a path for me as I carefully walked to the front. William had a built frame, his expression was confident.

I'm dead.

Although I am good at aim, I have never been in a fist fight, and I am not that strong, I usually run from attackers. I'm not flexible or awesome enough to do cool moves you see fighters do in the movies.

William and I stepped into the arena.

He gave me a queasy smile. "Good luck," he said, as his lips curl up. "Thank you." I reply softly, as the whistle blew. Suddenly, William gets into a position where he can strike me. I do the same, light on my feet.

As his frame assures, he is strong, but he is not quick. I watch his fist fly through the air to my face. Though suddenly, and somehow, time slows, and I analyze his position and how he strikes. I dodge his fist and elbow him in the side without haste.

He winces though it doesn't affect him that much.

William turns to me, his leg lifting up for a kick. In an instant, I grab his leg, weakly flipping him to the ground face first. It wasn't as strong, so I only managed to cause him to land on his left arm.

But he doesn't back down. He grabs my foot and tosses me.

I slam into the ground with a thud. Pain shot up my knees and shoulder, my vision become faintly dizzy.

William was already up on his feet and approaching me. I roll aside just before his foot stomps on the place I was thrown, and I get up.

I threw my fists at him. He catches both and flips me to the ground with ease.

In seconds, I feel a terrible pain in my stomach. My eyes shoot open and I see William laying next to me, his elbow jabbed into my stomach. I let a cry, before my tongue senses the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, crawling up my throat. I groan and spit out a red fluid. William quickly pulls me into a headlock, my vision worsening. I gag and squeak, then bite his arm until I taste his blood. He cries out and let's go, staggering back and holding his bloody arm.

That gave me enough time to kick him back to the edge of the arena, jabbing my clenched fists and elbows at him rapidly.

He guards himself and throws me back, getting up.

And in an instance, he slaps my head and my vision fades, and the last thing I see is the floor, slamming into me.

~

My vision regains, seeing three Annabelles. "Hey," I mumble, "Annabelle, why are there three of you?"

"Because a fairy princess came over and used her sparkle magic to multiply me." Annabelle replied in sarcasm. My vision clears, now I can see only one. "Did I beat William?"

Annabelle laughed. "Nope! The worse you did to him was a bruised and blood arm. What he did to you, on the other hand..."

I studied the mirror beside the infirmary bed. My shoulder, arm, and knees were badly bruised. There were bandages wrapped around my head, and bits of dried blood streamed down the corners of my lips. I sit up, and stand. My knees buckle and I fall.

"I can't feel my knees."

"They numbed your legs."

Annabelle helped me into a wheel chair. "Don't worry, it'll last for a few hours." She pushed it to the cafeteria to get my food. After getting a plate of food and silverware, she does not lead me to the tables. She pushes my wheel chair to the doors. "Where are we going?" I ask, turning my head to see her with my peripheral vision.

She smiled. "To Jacob. Your older brother."