Cara’s POV
“Ouuu… And The Striker takes down his opponent. It seems like the competition is getting tougher the more we advance.” The announcer described.
“Oh my God.” I gulped, averting my eyes from the gruesome scene only to look back a few seconds later.
I think I can relate with those who find this thrilling. As messy as the fight is, it’s hooking… leaving the viewers guessing.
“Oh no!” He cried out dramatically as the said ‘Striker’ picked up his struggling opponent and threw him against the iron net of the ring, causing him to bounce back to the ground. “I think Snake is not going to make it.”
He thinks he’s not going to make it and he’s still officiating the fighting? What sort of monstrosity is this?
Swallowing down an invincible knot in my throat, I unconsciously moved closer to Adonis. “Is he going to survive the fight?”
His eyes darted to mine for a second. “He should… if he gets up.”
The entire room ceased their loud chattering, waiting for the man to stand, yet he didn’t. Sprawled out on the floor of the ring, unmoving, the sight of his bloodied face caused my stomach to churn.
“He’s not standing…” I trailed off in a whisper, as though I would be charged for speaking.
“Oh,” Adonis said uninterested. “Then he might not make it.”
My face contorted like in pain, though it wasn’t mine. “Someone should get the ambulance. He should be rushed to the hospital; he needs-
The roar of the audience drowned out my voice.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” The announcer lifted the hand of the heaving, conscious fighter. “We have a winner of the second round. Give it up for The Striker.”
Their voice echoed in unison as they chanted repeatedly.
Striker! Striker! Striker!
“Are they mentally deranged?” I yelled. “A man’s dying and they’re jubilating…”
Yet it seemed like I was the only one worried as my husband ignored my words, still staring at the ring. The calculating look that had been in his eyes since the match began was still there. He didn’t look to be enjoying it, or not enjoying it.
Instead, he was like a diligent student who wanted to ace all his papers.
I, for one, had to place my fear aside and hold on to my pride, praying it saved me. Everything about this place sent prickling shivers all over my body, my nose dying from the various odours that hung in the air. Watching the fight had my stomach in knots.
Even the first round wasn’t as gruesome as this. The sweat trickling down my forehead was proof of my anxiety, especially when I recall how an opponent was wheeled out of the ring after the first round.
I wouldn’t have been so surprised if I had known the second one would be so much worse. Each round was more fierce than the last and if it kept advancing this way, I was sure at least one person would die.
“How many rounds are left?” I asked my attentive husband, dying to be out of the godforsaken place.
“About four more.”
“Four more?” I shrieked.
Do I think I can wait to see four more rounds of this nauseating sight? No.
“The match is meant to produce just a winner.” He explained further. “There are six contestants. Two would fight in pairs, resulting in three winners. The weaker two out of the three would fight in pairs, resulting in two winners left.”
“The last two would then fight to get a winner?”
“Yes.”
I mentally calculated the rounds, “That should be five in total, and we’ve watched two, so there should be three left. Not four.”
“Oh? really.” He commented in a bored tone, earning an eye roll from me.
“What crawled up your ass? Are you still angry that I tagged along?”
No reply.
“Look at me,” I stroked my fake beard, then adjusted my cap. “No one knows a thing. I’m just a perfectly good-looking potbellied manager.”
For the first time since we’ve sat, Adonis slowly turned towards me, “Yes. I can see that and hope it remains that way till we leave.”
“Hey!” My eyes squinted on their own accord. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
At that moment, the announcer returned to the ring, picking up the microphone, “Laaaaaaaaaaaadies and?
“Gen. Tle. Men!!!!” The crowd roared and I gagged at their antics-which seemed to be a regular one.
“It’s that time we’ve all been waiting for! Give it up for…
I tuned out his voice-more like tried to-as he called out the last pair of contestants.
Hopefully, I’ll get through this round without puking all over the benches.
****
“And now we have it!”
Noise erupted.
Oh please… my face was blue because I was sure the man that was wheeled out was dead.
“The winner of the ‘Lord of Axe’ tournament!”
The people that weren’t already standing rose to their feet.
Winner? More like a killer…
“Everybody! Give it up for-
The floor began to tremble as they stomped their feet; I had to hold onto Adonis’s arm to be sure I wouldn’t fall off.
Glancing around the hall, watching as they stomped their feet twice, beat their chest twice, then repeat the circle. It was so smooth as though rehearsed.
“Lord of Axe-Death Eater!!!!!!!” The announcer finally declared, and the hall vibrated from the sounds the crowd made.
The tall, huge man who had walked out looking perfectly fine in rounds one and five limped back into the ring, his head wrapped up in a bandage and a small jacket over his bruised rib to collect his trophy.
Was the money worth the pain I could see all over him?
I thought hard about it, as far back as when I was drowning in debt… when my mother was stuck in the hospital with no money to pay her bills; if I had such a talent, would I have done this?
No comment but an involuntary scoff.
At least he survived. What about his opponents who believed the money was worth it and are struggling for their lives right now because they didn’t win?
It would take a miracle to survive the blow, especially the guy who lost round four.
My eyes flickered to the ‘Death Eater’ guy for a minute, and I agreed with the stage name.
The only way he could’ve survived such a brutal fight was if he had truly eaten death.
“Now!”
The hall instantly went quiet, and an uncomfortable tension that wasn’t there before began crackling in the air.
One simple word and they’re quiet? It felt dreadful
Gripping my husband’s arm tighter, I moved closer to him, noticing how he was tapping his feet in a rhythmic countdown.
What’s happening?
The announcer’s voice dropped an octave, causing an eerie feeling to bristle past the hairs on my skin. “The moment you’ve all been waiting for…
Is he being serious? All the other moments were what?
“The rogue challenge.”
Something about the way he said those words caused my heart to beat faster.
“What’s the rogue challenge, Adonis?”
My dear husband ignored my question, his eyes focused on the bruised man in the ring.
“If there’s anyone here who thinks he, or maybe she, has the power….
No way…
… or the strength. And if given a chance, would like to challenge the new title.”
Oh my God. Was this what Adonis meant by four rounds instead of three?
For a room whose noise vibrated its very foundation a while ago, you could hear if a pin dropped.
“Speak up now, or forever remain silent.” He ended.
What the hell! Is this a wedding or what?
My eyes didn’t move away from the ring in anticipation. Anticipation for what? That the question was going to pass peacefully and no one would be so crazy enough to accept the challenge. Everyone held their breaths; I couldn’t see them, but I was sure because I also held mine.
“No one?” he asked again.
Then I heard it. The tapping of feet, whose rhythm I was clinging onto to keep me sane, halted. A deep rumble rolled out beside me.
“I’m down.”
Now, the voice wasn’t loud enough to reach the ring, but the process of how it got there made me understand how information is spread across the world.
The people around me gasped, turning towards themselves, “That man said he’s down.” Those who heard the words gasped also, turning to the next and so on until the announcer heard.
“Oh my! I heard a man in a black hoodie on one of the benches is up for the challenge. Where are you?”
A man in a black hoodie? My brain, which had been refusing to piece the actions of my husband beside me together and accept the outcome, suddenly booted.
I jerked my head towards Adonis, my arm letting go of his completely; he was already rising to his feet.
“What are you doing?” I hissed. “Sit the f*ck down!”
The imbecile had the guts to tilt his head, smirking at me before turning back to face the ring. Then in a loud boom, announced.
“Hey Death Eater, I’ll take you on.”
My jaw slackened.
“Are you crazy?”