The Rubys

16| s i n n e r

Monday | 10:34 p.m.

The overpowering stench of blood and sweat. The sickening crunch of fists hitting skin. The ear-splitting roar of jeering crowds.

But Kaden wasn't aware of any of it. It was just him and his opponent, in this godforsaken ring of death.

Kill to win, the familiar motto slithered in his head, like a seductress slyly whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

Pinning his opponent down, Kaden landed another bone shattering blow on the burly man's jaw. His knuckles were already raw and numb with pain, courtesy of not wearing any protective gear. But the lack of safety gear was what made the fights exhilarating and dangerous, and despite the loathing he had on these death matches, Kaden was addicted to the thrill of this sharp edged game of survival.

The man beneath him groaned in agony, his thick, muscled arms that had previously tried to block his vicious attacks falling limply beside him. Kaden knew he should stop now, that he must stop now before—

"No one will show you mercy here. Either you win or you die." His voice reminded him, cold and merciless. "Kill to win."

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

The chants and cheers of the crowd ⏤ a massive horde of sadists who enjoyed the fervor of violence and cruelty so much they would pay and gamble just to see it ⏤ intensified with sick excitement and bloodlust. That motto in his head also got louder and louder, escalating until all Kaden could hear was the familiar word 'kill, kill, kill'⏤

Let's run away, her soft voice echoed in the dark recesses of his mind. Just imagine, the two of us, the greens, the countryside, emerald green eyes gazed into him, all sweetness and innocence.

Kaden felt his breath hitched, felt his hits decreased in vigor, felt himself pulling back the punches. The bloody man beneath him slowly faded away, until all he could see was her curvy outline, with eyes like fine emeralds and hair like lustrous ruby waves, and her hand outstretched, beckoning him to come. Kaden shot his hand out, reaching for her —

But it wasn't him that her hand was reaching for. Her long, slender hand was firmly wrapped around another's, of a man with hair as bright as gold.

Kaden glanced down at his own hands, bloodied, bruised, and callous. How foolish was he to think he could reach for her with these sinful hands?

It's always him, isn't it? It has always been Sanders, he heard his own voice spatting bitterly. An unfamiliar emotion wrung at his heart, dark and resentful.

A blow landing on his jaw hauled him out of his nightmarish stupor, bringing him back to the ring. His lack of attention had thrown him off-guard, sending him stumbling backwards, away from his now vengeful opponent. Kaden blinked, the tangy, metallic taste of blood in his mouth overpowering his senses.