A right hook.
Swish!
The wind from Kenji’s fist grazed my nostrils. Fuck, I wanted to sneeze.
A jab.
Swish!
And another.
Hap!
The second was deflected by my forearm.
Can I counter? I think I can. I feinted a hook, before adjusting and directing my fist towards his ribs as I saw him raise his guard.
Whoosh!
Fuck. I could see it coming, but I was too slow to dodge it. He had spun around my body blow and into a backhand of his own.
Pap!
Ah, fuck. Right across the jaw. I felt dizzy, but before I could readjust, a low kick struck me in the calf, damaging my balance. Then, the base of Kenji’s palm forcefully pushed into my solar plexus. Before I could realize it, I was on the ground.
Ah, shit. My body was covered in bruises and minor lacerations. It had been a week since I’d shown up in this fucking dome and since Kenji had told me to kill him.
In that whole time, I hadn’t landed a single blow on him, but he kicked the shit out of me.
I didn’t get it. His punches felt way too strong, and his eyes were way too quick. It felt like I’d never be able to land a scratch on him, let alone kill him.
Still, I’d gotten pretty determined.
The first day, he beat me until I passed out. I woke up barely able to see out of my swollen eyes. Of course, the second I woke up, there he was, waiting to strike from behind.
“Stay alert,”
He’d said. Fucking dickhead. It wasn’t until the third day that I woke up ready to fight back. I couldn’t even throw a proper punch, though, and ended up stumbling over my feet. So for the last four days, I’ve been letting him kick my ass.
I needed to get his basic footwork down. Plus, I could throw a couple decent punches at this point. Countering was still a difficult task though. Fuck, another day, another sore muscle.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
His foot pressed down on my skull. It had been hours of this shit; maybe even a whole day. I think. The sky never changed here. Part of me was starting to think that I’d died and gone to hell.
He spit on my battered, bruised face, and lifted his foot off of it. Haha… it was over. Fuck. I wonder what breakfast would be tomorrow.
He barely gave me anything to eat or drink. Just enough to keep me alive. But it was still the one thing I had to look towards every morning. An energy bar, maybe? Or more cat food?
My mind faded into the darkness as I wondered.
And another week passed. Or at least, another seven sleeps. God if I knew how long I was resting for. It definitely didn’t feel like long.
I was starting to play with kicks. The low kick was easy, but I wasn’t flexible enough to try any high kicks. I did once, only to be grabbed and thrown to the ground. My spine felt like it had broken.
So instead I kept working on the basics. I felt like I was getting closer to landing a hit.
Then in the third week, something changed. Twenty-six rests. My body started to feel more durable. My muscles felt stronger, and my ligaments and joints felt more flexible. It didn’t hurt as much when Kenji hit me.
Or rather, I had become more tolerant of the pain.
I was confident. I could land a blow.
I threw a few low kicks, but mostly relied on my basic footwork and striking with my fists. Haha… Kenji, you fuck. You taught me well.
I threw a couple feints, only to be blocked. Kenji threw a strike. Sloppy! This was the chance I was waiting for! The student becomes the master, dickhead!
I threw my first counter of the day, while sweeping his leg. Hahah! Hah… um…
What the fuck is this bullshit?
Kenji was leaning back, his head nearly touching the ground, one leg swept out from under him. And my fist was in his hand, barely an inch before his face.
Ah.
Fuck.
I’m so fucking dead.
But instead of pulling me down into a mount, Kenji released my fist. I quickly retreated, holding my guard. He said one word.
“Acceptable.”
Before springing back up to his feet, a superhuman feat of balance. He strolled off, lighting a cigarette before putting one hand in his pocket. This fucking asshole! I worked so hard! Don’t act so casual!
But then, I witnessed something I’d yet to. Kenji didn’t knock me out, or push me until I passed out naturally. Instead, he walked up to the border, the black wall, and it swallowed him. Like a liquid.
…
What the fuck is going on?
Dazed, surprised I’d been left with a moment to spare, I decided to approach the spot on the wall that Kenji was just… well, eaten by.
Actually, I hadn’t had a chance to inspect this place properly yet. This was my chance. As I got closer to the edge of the massive encirclement, the wall’s details started to come into clearer view. They were pristinely black, like a void, erected into a solid structure.
There were carvings etched into the whole thing, imagery of vines and coiling snakes, as well as men and perfect spheres. I touched the wall. It was solid and cold. Fuck. Too tall to climb. That night, the only thing I learned about my prison was that it was even stranger than I initially thought. Where was Kenji going? I fell asleep. Maybe tomorrow I’d be able to hit him for real.