Edward ducked and surged forward, narrowly missing the enemy's fist and getting behind him. Seeing the advantage of his position, he jumped up onto the great lug and put his left arm around the guy's neck. He braced his feet against the brute's back, utilizing his somewhat smaller stature. Not that he was small or anything. A few short blows to the side of the head later with a metal fist and the man came crashing down like a very large and very stupid sack of potatoes.
Edward leaped from the collapsing mountain and landed neatly on both feet beside him. He hadn't even broken a sweat with this one. Really, the opponents they were giving him seemed to be getting weaker.
The crowd around the dirt-floored pit that served as the arena exploded into even more commotion, if that was possible, now that he'd won again. Mostly the shouts consisted of boos and curses with his name attached. They'd wanted more of a show. He didn't care. He wasn't fighting for them.
Smiling, he wondered how many of them had lost money to this fight. It served them right for evaluating the competition based entirely on size. Not that he was lacking in size. Not at all. His opponents were all just unnaturally large. Yeah.
Deciding he'd had enough of the incessant noise in the around the ring, he looked up impatiently at the booth directly above the north wall, higher than the other seating. This was where the powerful, influential spectators sat, the ones who controlled the matches and financed the entire affair. It was also the central control system for the building, where they would turn down these infernal lights and open the gate that let him leave the arena.
Edward wanted to leave. They knew it. This had to be some sort of punishment for him. They had to know that he couldn't stand the noise and the lights and the confinement of the ring after the action was over. He actually couldn't really tell if the people in the booth hated him or regarded him with indifference, but knew that it must be one of the two. There was no one that felt anything else toward him. Not now.
Finally, the gate swung open simultaneously with the dimming of the lights, and he was free. He spun on his heel and walked away from the man on the floor with his shoulders hunched and head down. The corridor leading from the arena was narrow, black as pitch, and stank of mold and decay, but he was glad to leave the shouting behind and did so in silence.
The passage led to a showering and changing area, lit up brightly with blue-green tinted fluorescent lights that made the shadows darker. The floors were cheap, broken tile, missing in some places to reveal the concrete foundation. There were two lines of bench in between lockers that lined either side of the room, with sinks at the end closest to the entrance and showers at the other end that extended past the sides of the room to form a T. It reeked of sweat, mildew and rotting blood from past battles. Edward liked to pass through here as fast as possible, and luckily the room was empty, sparing him from any trouble. His match had been the last of the day, so everyone had already cleared out.
Edward swept through the room and was about to open the steel door on the other side when he heard something. A shuffling sound that was quiet but undeniably human. Okay, so maybe not so alone after all.
He kept his relaxed posture and let his eyes slowly meander the area. Whoever it was had obviously not wanted to be spotted. He looked around a few heartbeats more. Nothing. Oh well. They were no danger to him in hiding and it wasn't as if his being here was any secret.
His hand turned the rusty handle of the door and it creaked open. He left with his guard up, not being able to shake the feeling of someone watching him. The door led to an alleyway between two large buildings, one red brick and the other concrete. The alley was deserted aside from him and two metal trash cans.
Edward traveled quickly through the rough, tight grid of the city streets. Even after three years of living here, they all looked the same to him. He had memorized the one route he needed by counting the streets and turns alone. It was an automated action now, and he barely thought about it at all.
The city was dull and despondent, with muted colors and uniformity in all of its architecture. The skies were usually grey and the weather consisted only of fog, rain, and cool, cold or colder. This day there was a light drizzle that seemed to be in indecision about whether it should be fog or rain, and the chill in the air made him pull his coat tighter over his torso. Typical.
By the time his feet carried him to his apartment, he was soaked through and felt a cold coming on. He fumbled through his pockets for a moment before he found the key and unlocked the third door on the right side of the second floor hallway.
There was no warmth inside the walls of the small apartment. Of course there wasn't. The building's furnace had been in repair for a year now. It wasn't any better now that he was soaked and the metal on his right arm and left leg pulled heat from his body. He dumped his coat and boots to the side of the doorway where he left them in a heap.
Sighing, he went into the bathroom. It was only as large as could fit little more than six of him crowded together standing, including the shower space. He stood in front of the sink and looked into the mirror positioned above it. His face looked tired, with shadows beneath his golden amber eyes. He wrung his blond hair out with his hands. It was getting pretty long, but he couldn't afford a haircut right now.
He sighed again and realized he was sighing too often. The feeling of being watched stayed with him even in his own home. In his bathroom. He really hoped it was just a feeling.
Edward swayed and had to catch himself on the edge of the sink before he realized he was tired. Time to go to sleep. Who cares if the sun was still technically up; the clouds blocked it out anyway.
He closed the bathroom door carelessly and shuffled toward the main room when something caught his eye. He looked around in a double take and saw that the front door was ajar. He hadn't exactly come home in the best of moods, and he'd forgotten to check if it was closed. Damn, that was dangerous. He shut the door firmly and kicked it a little for good measure. It's a good thing he noticed it when he did. Otherwise, it might have been open all night… He shuddered at the thought.
He let himself become a zombie and shuffled blearily to the couch in the main room. No bed. Not that it was a problem for him. At this point, he wouldn't know what to do with all the space in a bed anyway. He plopped down onto it still fully clothed and waited for blessed sleep to take him.
Sleep never held dreams for him anymore. He was grateful. He'd had enough nightmares to fill a lifetime's want for them. He remembered a time when he was younger when night terrors greeted him every night, to the point where he feared going to sleep. Yes, he was definitely glad that that period of his life was over, in that respect.
Edward either bordered on sleep or was only a few minutes into it when something disturbed him. His eyes snapped open and he shot up into a crouching position on the couch ready for battle. His head swiveled around, trying to find the source of the disturbance. He found nothing. The stacks of books and papers lying haphazardly around the room looked the same, the doors and window were all shut tightly, the coat and boots still in a pile near the door. He relaxed a little and sat down on the couch. Something still felt strange.
It felt strange, and he didn't like it at all.