Rule one. you do not talk about fight club.
Twining the bandage wrapping tightly around his left hand. Flexing. Checking the feel. Alfred felt himself growing light chested. Giddy. He smiled. Perfect.
He stood up from the chair that he had dragged to the back of the hotel's laundry room and left the room silently, not bothering the flick the glowing fluorescent light off as he did. The basement was mostly quiet, minus the dull thrum of noise faintly fading through the door at the end of the dank hallway. He almost giggled to himself. It had been way too long. The door was pushed open when he was just a few feet away and he stopped.
"You ready?" Manic red eyes caught his as Gilbert grinned at him. Alfred shrugged as he caught the once muted noise full on. The room already reeked like blood. "Maybe. We'll see. How's Mathias?" His friend hooted. "On fire. Your game better be spot on, he could really kick your ass tonight." Alfred snorted and stepped past Gilbert. We'll see.
Rule two. you DO NOT talk about fight club.
His gaze settled on the makeshift rope and building support post ring. He hardly noticed people stepping out of his way. Catcalling. Betting money. It didn't change. Just the same old same old.
He caught the eye of another blonde on the opposite side of the room. The man threw down the towel he had been using to wipe the rust colored stains off his hands and chest and approached their 'ring'. Mathias Kohler bared his teeth at Alfred mockingly. "I wasn't expecting you back, lille lort." Cornflower met cerulean as their eyes locked aggressively. "You were wrong then." Mathias laughed. "I'm never wrong. And tonight you're going to lose."
Rule four. only two guys to a fight.
Alfred Pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his sandals so that they lay behind him. Mathias slide under the ropes on his side. "And here I was thinking that you'd forget the rules…" Alfred scowled.
Rule six. no shirts, no shoes.
Never.
"I wouldn't think that you'd be one to really talk about remembering rules. What with the last fight I saw you in.." He pulled the top rope up and stepped onto the stained cement floor inside what was now their cage.
Rule three. someone yells "stop!", goes limp, taps out, the fight is over.
Rule five. one fight at a time.
Mathias stiffened. "Fuck you. No, never mind. You'd probably enjoy that." Alfred laughed. "A whole lot more then I'd enjoy killing someone." Mathias spat on the ground in front of him. "rend mig i røven!" Alfred sighed as the noise around the room almost seemed to shrink and turn to static.
Shit talk was a waste of breath. Mathias should have known that by now.
Everything was a waste of breath.
Everything besides fighting.
Everything.
Alfred pulled his hands up in front of his chest. Just balancing. Preparing. "Can we get this show on the road? I don't wanna be here all night."
Rule seven. fights will go on as long as they have to.
Mathias scoffed at him before stepping into his own preferred starting stance. "Whatever. You act like this is your first fight and you're an impatient little newbie. Don't be such a bitch."
Rule eight. Final rule. if this is your first time at Fight Club, you have to fight.
Alfred let Mathias' words roll off his shoulders as the two of them started to circle their arena slowly. They didn't matter. Nothing matters. A tiny voice whispered. "Nothing matters." He agreed.
Then he moved. And the fight was on.