The last opponent was boringly generic, as though the player had picked a default avatar. Her brown hair was pulled up in a bun covered by a tight spandex wrap, and she wore tight leggings and a sports bra. She wouldn’t have looked out of place at a commonplace gym. Her tag read “B1tchLicen5e.”
The Caucasian woman smiled and cracked her neck. Rick took advantage of the showy taunt by initiating a Flying Knee, which knocked her in the chest. He followed with Detonate, getting the two jabs squarely into her face, though when she grabbed for his leg after his kick, he pulled Roamin’ Cancel, then blasted out another Flying Knee. The woman, who he’d already nicknamed “Spandex,” fell back to her ass, and Rick went to the ground after her.
She twisted away before he could get her locked down, getting the jump on him as she stood and delivered a quick front kick as he also tried to get to his feet. Her foot connected with the tender area beneath his armpit, and he winced when he rolled away. Lucky she didn’t get my face. He sprang to his feet ready to counter whatever she had coming next, but she hadn’t pursued. Short on stamina, maybe?
He feinted in, and she began a power move animation. He used Concentrated Strike, figuring he had time to paralyze her before she could pull it off. He struck the valley where her deltoid, pectoral muscle, and collarbone came together, though he’d intended to strike her sternum. It knocked her out of her preparation, but while his follow-up arm was on its way for the next blow, she slapped him, causing his fist to bump harmlessly against her left breast. She kneed him in the solar plexus, causing him to hunch over. Next, she grabbed his exposed neck, setting him up for a standing choke, but he dropped into a crouch pulling her off balance over him, then blasted back up, knocking free not only her arm, but explosively sending her back three feet.
She rushed back in, but he kicked the inside of her left knee, causing her stance to go wobbly and wide, bringing her unprotected head lolling down and toward him. He kneed her head, but she pushed him back and gathered her feet back under her torso again. Rick had already committed to a grab, and he began to pull back too late.
Bang! Her uppercut would have broken his jaw had it been real, and like the dragon uppercut in those ancient arcade fighters, this was a special attack that launched them both off the ground.
His vision narrowed as he fell back, and in his sight, her triumphantly raised fist blurred. His vision narrowed further, and at the center, for a second or more, was a lock of her short brown hair, peeking out from beneath the spandex cap.
He fought to stay conscious until his vision was a mere pinhole of light, but then the ground came to meet him.
It made the light in his eyes flicker, but miraculously, his vision widened again. The ringing he hadn’t realized was in his ears faded to a whooshing noise before the sound of the woman’s feet stepping on the ashen earth came to full audible resolution. He breathed deeply.
Spandex had landed a good five feet from where Rick now lay, and she appeared unaware he hadn’t been knocked out.
His focus slowed time in his mind, as he twisted and got to all fours. With half his stamina left, he leapt to his feet and dashed toward her.
Her eyes widened in recognition of the impending tackle, but she couldn’t avoid him.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
He clung to her as they went down, determined to end the fight on top and in control. The dust roiled into their faces in clouds as they hit, but Rick had long ago learned to rely on his sense of touch when grappling. He reinforced his control with each initial jerk of her muscles that might indicate a knee, elbow, or some other attempt to throw him.
He struggled to turn her face down, struggled not to be aroused by the implications of the act—he brutally suppressed an image of his wife in the very same position—and though his blood was up, he stayed on task. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, then her opposite leg. The Snake Hold initiated, there was only a moment of opportunity for her to slip away before—
She freed her arm. He trapped it again. She cried out, and the agonizing despair made him hesitate, but not long enough to thwart him. Two muffled cracks sounded from deep within her limbs, though her cry-gone-to-laughter overwhelmed all other sounds shortly after.
He cut off the flow of her carotid artery, and it was done.
Victory!
***************************************************
Rick stood and panted as the dust settled. Spandex’s body slowly faded, transforming into boxes that burst into icons.
He surveyed the melee area. The dusty black and grey earth was a riot of footprints from the struggle. Indentations on the ground hinted at the various fights. Pinned and choked out players had made veritable ashen “angels” in the dust and dirt, leaving impressions that might have resembled a snowy playground where large children had recently been.
Isn’t that what we’re doing, though? It was a game, after all, even if the stakes were high.
Some of the icons were greyed out. Rick reached for one, but it didn’t respond. Five sets of icons still had their color, and when he thought back to the fight, it came to him. Those were his victories. The greyed-out ones must have belonged to combatants already eliminated from the game.
A male announcer’s voice boomed from the sky, and text in his visual field matched the words the announcer proclaimed.
We have a victor! Congratulations, Rick Prophet! You are the Rank Zero Limited Regional Winner, First Place! Claim your spoils!
A timer appeared on the top left corner of his vision where the player count once was. It read “59”
58…
Oh shit!
57…
He hurried around the area, tossing the cosmetic items into his inventory. He ignored most of the boost points and tried to see what the skills were. “Hey!” he shouted to the sky, “Can I choose which to take with me later?”
There was no answer.
When he finished gathering the icons, the timer read “5.” A hole filled with golden light opened in the sky, and triumphant orchestral music gradually got louder.
2…
1…
He gently floated toward the golden light, not needing the red balloon to leave the game. Was that a victory condition?
Either way, he’d done it. He’d won back his future with a single day to spare.
***************************************************
After the golden light swallowed him, Rick appeared in the dark server lobby where Alex was waiting for him.
The smile on her face was one of excitement, but also pride. “Fuckin’ knew you could do it.” She hugged him, then stepped back. “Didn’t dream you’d place first, though.”
He shot her an ironic frown, as if she’d offended him.
Her eyes went wide. “Not that you couldn’t, but I mean—”
He smiled and punched her shoulder, and she hugged him again.
“What do I, uh…” he began. “I only had a minute to—”
“Oh, you don’t have to select your permanents in-game. They used to give you time, but it bored spectators. Anticlimactic after”—she did a jazz hands motion—“victory and all that, no?”
Rick weaved in place as the ground seemed to move.
“You okay? You must be exhausted. Even though it’s not really physical and all that, it’s still a lot of mental work.”
Two red balloons floated down. Alex took the string of each, then handed one to Rick. “Meet you back at my place.”
She floated up, and he followed slightly behind.