Dead Opportunities: Book 2
A New World Rises
Chapter 10: This is for me
"FIGHT!"
Harry brought down his hand, signalling the start of the fight and backed away to the edge of the human ring.
The loud shout and resulting cheering from the audience was like a starter pistol going off and Craig snapped forward without hesitation, running towards Billy who braced his feet for the impact.
Billy readied and swung and punched down at Craig who tucked in his head and took the brunt of it on the neck, crashing into the fat man and spilling him over into the mud.
Like a rabid animal, Craig's bloodlust took over and he grappled with him, pushing through the flurry of hands and grabbing a hand around Billy's neck. Before his enemy had a chance to wrench himself free, Craig pulled himself down onto him, copping a thump on his head from a stray fist and bared his teeth for Billy's neck.
With a blood curdling cry, Billy struggled and choked as Craig's teeth tore through his throat and took away his voice, blood spurting everywhere, covering Craig's face, drenching him.
Cartilage snapped and flesh tore as he pulled back, pushing off Billy's spasming body, long tendrils of flesh and skin stretching like rubbery cheese bitten off a pizza with his jaw firmly clenched around the dying man's Adam's Apple.
Billy Grabbed for his throat, his eyes wide and terrified at the sudden prospect that he was going to die. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he squeezed his hand around his own neck, he couldn't stop the blood pouring down his throat, drowning him. He barely even knew what just happened. Fights aren't supposed to work like this! He fought dirty! Filthy! This isn't right!
Everyone watched in silence, listening to Billy choke, shaking and contorting in the mud as he bled out in wild fear, finally laying still, his hands locked in death around his own throat and eyes wide open to the sky above. Frozen.
As Billy died, everyone turned, mouths agape and stared at Craig, standing in the middle of the ring with Billy's throat still in his mouth, strands of skin and flesh snaking out of from between his lips and dribbling blood down his chest. Craig, repulsed by the taste and unholy sensation and texture of the flesh in his mouth, relished the pure horror and outrage on Bob's face, who dumbly stumbled forward. His hands shook and looked to help his dead brother somehow, but his face flushed red in fury as the sudden turn of events started to sink in.
Craig answered the coming challenge as he spat the large wad of flesh into the mud in front of him, smiling to his coming opponent through bloody teeth.
"Next." He laughed and Bob charged.
The ground seemed to shake and all was drowned out by the raging screams of the outraged man. To have killed his brother in a good fight would have been one thing, it is expected in this criminal lifestyle that someone will take your life one day. They were prepared for it as brothers. But for Billy to die like this, desecrated by such a dirty act, by a man who was supposed to be a submissive slut.
This will not do. This is unholy!
Craig tensed as he saw the rushing bull coming and stepped to the side before there was a chance for him to change direction. However, Bob snapped a hand out and managed to grab Craig by the arm as he fell forward, pulling him down with him, slamming into the ground.
With agility belying his size, Bob recovered from the fall, having anticipated it and wrestled on top of Craig, pinning him beneath his heavy body and grabbed for his exposed neck, looking to return the favour and destroy this upstart in the same disgusting manner.
Panicking, Craig stabbed his fingers outward as Bob thrust his face down and squarely poked him roughly in the eyes, feeling something wet and warm get under his finger nail.
With a high pitched scream, Bob pulled back with a start and grabbed for his eye, blind and stumbling. Seizing the opportunity, Craig got to his feet and pressed the advantage, readying a punch just as Bob gathered himself to see the fist coming.
With a hard crunch, Craig connected squarely with Bob's nose, the crowd recoiling at the crunch of his nose breaking, followed by a second punch with the other hand, whacking into his cheek and snapping Bob's neck over, collapsing into the mud on all fours.
Craig was surprised to feel the unexpected amount of pain coarse through his hand. He knuckles felt all out of place, like Lego blocks that didn't fit together properly. Swearing and moaning, he let his hands go limp, unaware of Bob rolling up from the mud and gathering himself.
A sharp sound bit through the air as Craig look up to see Bob pull out a knife from his belt. A tiny blade the size of a small finger, but the crowd only cheered him on, collectively ignoring the hands only rules agreed upon before.
Panic threatened to negate any amount of momentum Craig had as Bob charged, slashing the tiny knife through the air menacingly. Thinking fast, Craig dropped as Bob bore down and kicked his legs from underneath him, snapping Bob's left knee inwards and backwards, breaking it comprehensively. Bob's large frame crashed down on him, crushing the wind out of him and he could feel the tip of the knife nick into his shoulder as Bob seemed to go slack, screaming.
"Fu-hu-huck!"
Squirming, Craig managed to get out from under the dead weight before his opponent had the presence of mind to tackle or stab him. Before he rolled clear, though, he felt the cold sting on the knife nick him again, ripping the skin on the back of his shoulder. With a yelp he stumbled to his feet and ambled around the ring to try and get his breath back as the men in the ring reached out to push him back in.
His feet felt so heavy as he lumbered around, trying not to slip on the wet grass and mud, and he felt he might faint. Everything was getting a bit dark and the audience was blurring away. He couldn't even hear them anymore.
"Get 'im, Craig!"
I know that voice. I hear her!
"Look out!"
Wha?
The sudden impact felt like a truck and came from nowhere. A little voice somewhere towards the back of his head informed him through the haze and confusion that it was a punch delivered by his opponent.
That's all it was. You'll be fine, it said. No worries.
Okey dokey, little voice! You da man!
SMACK!
Craig was faintly aware he was lying on the ground and something was on top of him. That little voice yelled at him again.
Hey! He punched you again! That's no good. Go get him!
Okey dokey, little voice! You da man!
His arms seemed hopelessly devoid of any strength and feeling, but it was enough to make out the face and form of Bob sitting atop him.
That's an ear! Poke it!
Yessir!
SMACK!
Another punch crashed down, somewhere on his cheek. It felt warm.
Go for the nose! It's broken, remember?
Yessir!
Scrambling around, he found what felt like Bob's nose and squeezed it as hard as he could as his vision started to clear and the little voice died away. Everything seemed to come back with some measure of focus.
Bob's bruised and bleeding face blotted out the light, but his scream was like a beacon, he realised. Bob's screaming was waking him up.
Bob recoiled and Craig shoved a fist upward, connecting with his nose again and causing him to flinch back. Aware of the godsend this opportunity was, Craig did not hesitate as he pushed Bob over onto his stomach and reached around his face.
With a secure grip around his forehead, Craig reached down his other hand and poked his ring finger into the corner of his mouth and pulled with all his might.
The fishhook manoeuvre didn't quite work as planned as his other hand slipped and Bob's face fell down slack again.
Fuck it! Time to end this.
"Roll over and look at me, you faggot!" he shouted over the noise.
As though admitting defeat, Bob scrambled over and looked back up at Craig, towering over the broken and hapless man.
"Pleesh…" he whimpered.
Of all the people to plead. Of all the people to ask for forgiveness. Craig felt the anger rising. Everything was clear again.
"That's what I said back in prison you fuck! You will get what you gave me!"
Craig hammered down his fist with explosive fury.
This was for the beatings.
SMACK!
This was for the rapings!
CRUNCH
This one's for ruining me!
SMACK!
This one's for Helen!
One after another the fists barrelled down, pummelling Bob's face further and further down into the mud until the blood and dirt were indistinguishable.
This one's for ME!
"DIE!"
With a final shove, Craig smacked another punch down into Bob's already still form and backed away. Satisfied the job was done.
As once before, everyone was silent. The grubby and dirty audience surrounding him stared in absolute stillness tried to comprehend what had just transpired.
Craig turned and looked for Helen. She stepped into the ring to greet her saviour, but her face was a confused mix of horror and delight, unsure of whether this rabid monster was the same man she knew.
Craig smiled, even though it hurt to do so. He couldn't help it and Helen smiled back, her teeth resplendent and white, like a fleeting glimpse of unspoiled purity in the dirty arena.
It didn't matter that he was covered in dirt and blood, most of it not his. It didn't matter that he had just killed two men in a dirty fight. The tears flowed and they crashed into each other, embracing tightly.
He came back.
He came back for me.