If Cinderella was a Badass

Prologue

Hi it's tryingtobeme here. A short while ago I wrote two chapters of an idea and I've decided I want to try it out. This is a rewrite of the previous prologue I had posted before. Anyone reading the story may want to start from the beginning again, just for the new version.

Cinderella’s POV

I shivered. The layer of black material that moulded to my body was little protection from the cool air of a fall night, but I had no choice. It allowed me to become one with the darkness. The stars and the moon shone brightly, though not bright enough to reveal my presence to all that looked out their windows. At this time, the darkness of my suit was only precautionary; no decent person in this town would be up at this hour. And I, of course, was no decent person. 

As I slinked towards the entrance of the building I stopped and brought the mask I was holding in my right hand to my face. I no longer cared about the cover of the darkness; it was the protection of my identity that mattered now. The mask was black, though the top half was covered in flames. My mask was the reason I was now dubbed Cinder to all who didn’t and would never know my true identity. I had reached my destination, and as I descended the steps everything changed. The air became heavy with the smell of sweat, and the musky smell of mold. The tension in the air was thick as the smog that you could only see when the streetlights shone bright. As I opened the heavy, rusted, metal door that led straight to where I wanted to be, I quickly gave myself a pep talk. 

“You can do this Cinder, you’ve never lost once and tonight is no exception,” I spoke quietly, though the sincerity and intensity in my voice was clear. Tonight was definitely no exception.

And then I pushed open the door. It creaked loudly, and as soon as I entered and it slammed behind me, I heard a loud roar. The smell of sweat intensified, but I was used to the smell. The crowd's screams got loader and loader, and I could make out just barely what they were saying.

“Cinder, Cinder, Cinder!” They cried. I smiled smugly; guess I was crowd favourite once again. After all, I had never lost a fight. I raised my arms up and gave a whoop of delight. During the day, hardly anyone gave me a second glance. During the night, this was my town. As I neared the rink, the crowds stomping and cheering got crazier and crazier. Nothing was better than the excitement of the crowd, followed by the taste of victory. I hoisted myself up and onto the raised square platform that was surrounded by the ropes that kept us on the inside, no matter how much you wanted to escape. Once inside, I gave a mocking little curtesy for the crowds benefits, before leaning back onto one of the ropes to wait for my competitor. 

He came out of the same door I entered, though the crowds reaction was a lot more negative for the poor guy. He really stood no chance, I judged, looking him over. He had the big muscles, the tattoos, and the smug look on his face that we all have once we’ve won a few in the rink. Too bad his would soon be gone once he realized that he stood no chance. He was an idiot to think otherwise. My reputation always precedes me, though no one would believe that a mere girl could make it to the top. But I guess I was no mere girl. 

As he lifted himself up into the rink, the crowd’s booing and jeering got louder and louder. I quickly lifted my hand up to shake his, but he just ignored it. Well, I was willing to take it easy on him, but just for being rude he would be going down the hard way. 

I heard the bell go off, signalling 10 seconds until the match begins. 

“Hey, may the best man win,” He said, before giving me an arrogant smile. “Though seeing as I’m the only man…..guess you really don’t stand a chance,”

“We’ll see about that, hotshot,” I replied cooly, as I got into my ready position. He is not gonna know what hit him. The second bell went off and the match begin.

Hit, dodge, hit, kick, block, dodge, kick, punch, and the victory was mine. I smirked. That was way too easy. I bent down and flicked him in the head. He was out cold. 

“Maybe the best man didn’t win, but the best woman did,” I whispered in his ear, before straightening up and pumping my fist in the air.

Of course, the crowd went wild. The girl wins again, which really wasn’t much of a surprise anymore. It’s been a long time since I lost.

“Impressive,” I heard from behind me, and I quickly turned around. A figure in the shadows started to walk towards the rink, clapping slowly. The crowd got strangely quiet, all eager to hear what this strange man had to say.

“Who would have expected so much from a girl,” He said, his head bent down. A shadow fell over his face, and I couldn’t make out the features of the strange man. Good thing for him; I don’t deal with sexism very well.

“Well, obviously quite a few people,” I responded cockily, gesturing to the crowd that gave a cheer. 

“Bet I could take you,” He said, with arrogance that could possibly rival that of my own.

“Is that a challenge?” I asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Same time, same place,” He confirmed.

“Do I get to know my challenger? The crowd needs a name to boo off the stage when I get you with a one hit K.O.”

He lifted his face and hoisted himself onto the stage.

“Call me Fox,” He yelled out to the crowd. 

The reaction was explosive. Gasps, screams, whispers and cheers all rang out at the same time. I was frozen to were I was standing. Before me was Fox, aka Lord Saxon Aaron Renard, aka wealthiest man in this town and the leader of the fighting rink. 

His reputation was legendary; he never lost a fight and he hasn’t appeared in the fighting rink since his last victory. A victory where he put his opponent in a coma in the first 30 seconds of the match. And I had to fight him.