It was my third fight.
I remember it like it was yesterday.
People say that I was fast tracked through the circuit; and I suppose I can't really deny that - but I don't care if you're The Spinner himself; everyone, and I mean everyone; pays their dues on the circuit. You start small, no exposure, no-one caring apart from your sponsors and your agent until, fight by fight, you claw your way through.
And that's what I was doing; paying my dues. An arena show, way down the card for the nights match order, booked in a pointless Kinetic Pit bout with another up-and-comer, an appetiser for the big names to follow. The girl I was meant to be fighting? Another young Frother with dreams of being the next Ultra-Violet I guess...no, I don't remember her name right now. Go look it up in the Circuit archives if you're interested.
Anyway, there I was, waiting in the holding area in the back of the arena, a grey sweaty concrete box which has probably seen more nerves than Mr Slayers office, looking out down the tunnel into the arena itself. Have you ever just stood there and looked down, listened to the crowd? I have. I still do; there's something primordial about the roar of the masses out there; cheering on their favourites. The howl for blood spilt; the triumphant call of a fresh kill.
It kinda reminds me of home.
Yes, I know I'm getting off the point. Fine.
So there I am, stood at the mouth of the tunnel, listening the noise of the crowd, trying to focus for my next match, when I realise I'm not the only one there. The nights main event was Burn taking on Mr Consequence, and lo and behold, the man himself is standing, half concealed by the uneven shadows spilling over the tunnel mouth, watching me.
It makes it difficult to concentrate.
I consider saying something; but this guy is orders of magnitude ahead of me in status, and from what I heard, he wasn't the kind of guy you wanted to piss off. So I try to shrug it off, close my eyes, concentrate, and ignore him. I stand stock still for 30 seconds...45...and all the time I can feel his dead white eyes on me.
I snap my eyes open and he's still there, watching, a smirk tugging at the edges of his grin. I'm just about to stalk over to him and do something incredibly stupid when I'm saved by the arrival of my opponent for the night.
She was your typical Violet wanna-be; dressed just different enough to stand out, - and avoid pissing Violet off - the girl comes barrelling into the holding room like she's busting into a nest of Carrien. I can see her eyes are already half rolled-back into her head, the spasmodic twitch of her fingers, and I know she's already wired. UV, probably, but I never cared enough to find out what she was on.
Like a firestorm she swept into the room, mouthing off. I swear, when this girl was high, she had a mouth which made Bloody Valentine look like a schoolgirl. She marches up to me, shouting fuck every other word, and telling me exactly what she's gonna do to me. I'm not concerned; I figure it all for bluster, so I do my best to ignore it and let her waste her energy ranting at me.
I start to pay attention when she swings for me.
It never made sense why she did it; I guess the UV or whatever it was had flipped her out too soon. Suddenly, the venue for our fight had changed to this grey concrete box, and our crowd reduced to one. I wove and dodged my way past the first few punches, not really sure what to do. A low kick catches me in the guts; a punch to the temple sends me sprawling against a wall. By the time the stars have stopped exploding in front of my eyes, she's on top of me.
With a knife.
I figured the guys at LAD were about to get some work, and I was gonna have to cancel my appearance due to a bad case of death, when the psycho-blonde's knife hand gets caught by Consequence.
I only remember his expression, or lack of one. There wasn't a flicker of emotion in that cold, dead gaze. No concern, no anger. And then he says
"Save it for the Pit, child"
Ever heard him talk? Sure you have, but in person? Its like someone dripping acid down your spine. I couldn't have moved if I'd wanted to right then.
But it seems my opponent isn't as concerned. She springs to her feet like a jack-in-the-box, and she's right in the Ebon's face. I think she starts with "Fuck you, grandpa" and moves on from there. No, I don't remember exactly what she said, but use your imagination.
So now I'm expecting to need a new opponent, but Consequence just stands there as this sixteen year old rants at him, never twitching, never moving a muscle, expression never changing. As I drag myself back up the wall to my feet behind them, the girl pauses to take a breath, and Consequence just leans close to her and whispers something in her ear.
She freezes like she was made of marble, stunned like someone just hotlined her. Consequence stays close, his lips barely moving always whispering, hissing over and over into her ear. No, I didn't hear what he said to her; I don't want to know, either.
Right then, the lights above the tunnel turn green. We're on. Consequence falls silent, spins the girl by her shoulders, and pushes her gently towards the tunnel. She stumbles beside me, eyes wide, staring out into nothing, mumbling over and over again what could be a prayer. All her fire has been extinguished; she looks like a civilian caught in the lights of a gauss train.
By the time we make it to the pit, she's shaking.
Did you hear me? When was the last time you saw a Frother tremble? Or someone on UV look nervous? But this girl was petrified, barely able to stand. She just swayed on the spot, wild eyes fixed to the floor, looking for all the world like the universe was about to crash around her.
The bell sounds and she doesn't move a muscle.
All my planning, my carefully conceived strategy for the match goes out of the window. I was expecting an opponent, not a catatonic. Instead of the duck and weave I'd been practising, I signal for my Finish. The 'Bowling Ball'. My big move.
I throw the punch, claws hooked, aiming for the eyes. It never connects. Before the blow even gets halfway, she collapses into my arms, sobbing like a baby.
I left her there, in the Pit, curled up into a tight ball, tears falling like the rain. I never saw her again after that; I guess she opted for a change of career.
As I walked back into the holding room, he was still there. He stops me with a hand on my chest. Our eyes meet; the smirk on his face, the tilt of his head, looks like it might be amusement.
His cold white eyes never leaving mine, he leans in close.
"Do you want to know a secret?"
I look at him for a second, the gaze, the smile. He's testing me. I shrug his hand off my shoulder and walk away, and never look back.
Behind me, I hear him laugh for the first time.
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