The second fight Owen had with a fourth floor inmate, he was being dominated throughout the first half of the fight. Joyce’s essence ability had done a number on him, and he was still relearning how to move his body properly.

His opponent was a lean bald man with dark skin. Throughout most of the fight, he danced circles around Owen, landing punch after punch on him.

Eventually, after enduring the beating, and becoming annoyed and frustrated, Owen figured out most of his new responses. The man tried to land an uppercut. The next moment Owen had thrown out a straight, sending the man careening back.

He followed up, not giving him the chance to react. He threw out a barrage of hook after hook, a non-stop assault of hardy punches. Soon enough the bald man was staggering, dizzied. Owen pulled back his right hand, increasing the kinetic energy within it, and with one last swing, slammed his fist forward, burying it deep into the face of the bald man, knocking him out.

He stood over his fallen opponent, looking down on him. His fists were still clenched. Now that his fighting capabilities were back to normal, he felt all sorts of anger coursing through his body.

As the guards came in, Owen moved to the centre of the arena and waited for his next opponent.

***

The inmates watched on in shock. Their laughters had long since died, and disbelief now replaced it. Owen was making his way through the floor four inmates rapidly. Except for that first fight, every match ended the same way. With Owen standing tall, dominating each opponent that dared step out onto the battlefield.

Kenneth was biting his thumbnail as he watched on from above. "No fucking way."

Beside him, Jason stood tall, his arms crossed. For the past few hours he had remained silent. Watching.

"This shit can't be happening." Kenneth was mumbling under his breath. But as the next round began, he remained silent.

Number two hundred and forty-eight, number two hundred and forty-nine, Number two hundred and fifty. Each new opponent who challenged Owen, got dragged back into the entrance.

Will's tired eyes gazed into Owen's brutal form down below. He smiled weakly, relief emerging in him. "He's going to get through this."

Isaac let out a long breath. "Looks like my worry was unnecessary. Though, looking at Owen now, he looks like a demon."

His words were no doubt true. The tattered rags that Owen wore, were trailing pieces of fabric stuck to his back and sides. Dried blood caked his body, and his expression was akin to a rabid hound. His bloody eyes looked predatorial and scary.

A black wraith. That's what some inmates in the viewing area were calling him. They could not fathom what they were witnessing. None of them had ever seen something quite like this before.

Even the viewing box was deathly silent. Mayers' stern face broke when he cleared his throat. "He’s a damn rebel for sure, but I can’t help admire the man's tenacity. Arden needs someone like him."

A few reluctant nods from the overseers indicated their agreement.

"But, he surely can't beat the floor five inmates," Mayers said, but at the same time, his own uncertainty hinted itself in his voice. "He needs to lose."

***

Owen was crouched down at the centre of the arena. His hands were cradling his shoulders, and his eyes were staring intensely at the entrance.

He had fought through two hundred and eighty inmates, with eighty-seven more fights still left to go. Somewhere down the line, the battles began to blandly feel the same. Move in, and then quickly put down his challenger.

Mentally he was exhausted and all he wanted to do was sleep. Physically however, he was in the best shape he'd been in his life.

Whatever he had endured throughout the last few hours, the struggles, the hardship, it's all done him well.

The buzzer rung for the next battle, and another inmate walked out. This one looked nervous, and his hesitance to approach became clear.

Owen got up from his feet and eyed the inmate coldly. The man flinched and took a step back. Fear and anxiousness was embedded deep in the inmate's expression.

But even so, the man gritted his teeth and powered on, stepping closer, and ever closer, to Owen.

As the man got near, he saw Owen blur and then disappear. The man blinked his eyes twice, as confusion etched itself on his face. Then, pain exploded on the side of his face.

Stolen story; please report.

His vision went white and he blinked again. A moment later, he was on the ground near the edge of the arena. The wall was behind him, and a splatter of red stained the white surface.

The man looked up to find a savage standing over him. Owen opened his mouth. "Do you want more?"

The man was clenching the left side of his face. He shook his head wildly. "No... please don't! I forfeit!"

Owen paused as he gave a slow and lazy nod. He then turned around and retuned to the centre of the arena. The man scrambled back onto his feet and rushed towards the exit.

The battle had only lasted a few seconds. It was another blowout. Owen sat back down onto the ground and waited again.

Mayers voice came out from the speakers. "Owen… Walters."

Owen listened attentively.

"You have defeated all the floor four inmates. Congratulations. Now, we will be moving onto the floor five inmates. Do try your best."

Owen rose up from his sitting position. There was a new expression on his face. One the inmates watching hadn’t seen before.

On his beaten and scratched face, his lips twisted upwards, a vicious smile gleaming upon his features. Eyes that couldn't decide between glee or madness, were shining, as if they were ignited by something. His slightly crouched frame looked crazed and manic, and his hands were upturned, flexing and unflexing.

The buzzer sounded, and a tanned man with a muscular build and a scar down his right cheek, with messy black hair falling into his eyes, emerged from the darkness of the tunnel.

The buzzer sounded, and a tanned man with a muscular build and a scar down his right cheek, with messy black hair falling into his eyes, emerged from the darkness of the tunnel. His hands were in his pockets, a faint smirk on his face. His stride looked lax and casual, not concerned at all with Owen.

He walked with poise and confidence, and upon reaching the centre, stopped a good distance away. His wild dark brown eyes, looked at Owen without a shred of caution. In fact, he grinned as he stared at Owen, as if mocking him.

"Shit, can you tell how happy I am that you made it this far? If I take you down here and now then I’ll increase my value to Mayers a ton, and it might even net me some other benefits. Thank you." He rotated his neck before rolling his head from left to right, shaking it as he smirked.

"Well I'll try not to give you too hard a beating, because I sort of feel a kinship with you," the tanned man flowed essence throughout his body and a yellow aura burst from his skin. "We are pretty much the same. You have the fight insignia. Well I have the power insignia. And our essence abilities pretty much do the same thing."

He raised up his hand towards Owen. Owen felt himself become light, and his feet began lifting off the ground. All of a sudden, Owen was lifted high into the air and tossed straight into the ceiling. His back made a thudding sound as he slammed into the surface.

The man laughed as he brought his hand down, allowing Owen to fall. The moment Owen reached the halfway point between the arena floor and ceiling, he used his own essence ability to stop his movement. He levitated in the air.

"Let’s dance Owen!" He threw his hands open to his sides, aiming for a grand gesture. "My name is Eric Hanes, and I am the king of gravity!"

Eric waved his arm in a swinging motion. Owen was flown straight downwards once more with more force than before. Owen’s feet smashed the floor upon impact, and cracks spread outwards from his position.

Owen gritted his teeth as gravity pushed him down. His figure bent, folding in place. Pressure threatened to buckle his legs, and with his limbs quaking, he tried to resist.

Eric closed his fist, and pulled it back. He activated his insignia and increased his power output. With his hand pulsing with strength, he took a step towards Owen and threw his fist towards Owen's torso.

A mini sonic boom erupted as the fist landed. A shockwave shot outwards, cracking the ground beneath Owen as well. It was a bone rattling blow, and yet, Owen stood his ground, his knees locked in place.

Eric took a short glance at Owen's face, and the slightest hint of a frown flashed across his features. Owen was glaring back at him, eyes filled with an uncanny amount of willpower.

Aggravated, Eric drew back his fist once again and threw it forward. Another shockwave left the arena trembling. This time, a grunt left the lips of Owen.

This caught Eric's attention. His fists started flying back and forth, their movements fast and erratic, all striking the same place. Eric's fists opened and closed in the form of an alternating rhythm. Each hammering hit was louder than the last, their sonic impacts ringing throughout the entire arena.

And soon, even after Eric had been striking Owen for nearly a minute, Owen remained standing. A small smirk cracked on Owen's bloody mouth as he watched the expression on Eric's contort into outrage.

Eric stepped back and lifted a hand towards Owen. With a yell, he swung his hand upwards and Owen was sent flying into the air once more. Eric spent more essence to make sure Owen couldn’t use his ability to halt his momentum.

Once Owen crashed into the ceiling, Eric repeated his movements and sent him back to the floor, then to the ceiling, over and over again, using his ability to pound his body up and down. His breath became heavy and beads of sweat ran down the side of his head as he continued the assault.

With an angry yell, he threw Owen down one last time. Eric crouched down and held his knees as he attempted to catch his breath. Yet a victorious smile formed upon his mouth as he laughed.

"Man you’re tough."

"I guess I am, huh."

Eric’s head snapped over to Owen.

Rising from the ground, Owen once again rose to his full height. Blood was dripping and trailing out of his nose, trickling down his cheek. Yet, his right arm came up and swiped across his face, wiping it away.

"No…" Eric whispered, shocked. "How are you fine? Are you even human?"

"What can I say," Owen said, his own mouth formed into a wicked looking grin. "You said our essence abilities are the same, but all you’ve been doing is lift me up and down," he lifted his hand towards Eric. "Let me show you the difference."

Eric felt an invisible force grab hold of him. He struggled as he tried to pull against its influence but to no avail. His limbs were forced into a star shape, like a mock crucifixion pose.

The joints on Eric’s body began to bend slowly. A painful yell burst from his throat, his eyes rolling in their sockets as the pressure increased.

Before long, a sickening crack sounded. Followed by another one. And another one. Joints popped and ligaments separated, followed by more yells from Eric.

Owen retracted his hand at his words, freeing Eric. He crumbled to the ground, panting and whining from the pain. As he held his hand to his side and tried to force himself up, two guards came from the entrance and collected him. The fight was over.

The arena sat in deafening silence. No one could believe what they saw.

Owen stretched his back and rubbed his neck as the two guards ran back out of the room. His forehead crinkled as he looked up at the viewing area. Eighty-six more inmates to go.