Blindsided:
A Surprising Loss
You could hear a pin drop in the massive arena; the crowd sat figuratively on the edge of their seats in stunned silence, gawking at the champion, Vega, laying nearly motionless on the cage floor surrounded by pieces of his broken mask. Shaad merely looked down on the fallen warrior with a content smirk. He respected how far 'The Accursed Fang' had already pushed him, but was far more interested in the fact that Vega was beginning to stir.
Vega struggled to pick himself up, his arms shaky under his own weight, but it was the expression in his eyes that drew Shaad.
"So, you do get angry; it's the first time I've gotten this feeling from you," the brash pirate remarked in interest, intently observing the clear rage in the right eye of Vega, visible through the gaping hole he'd punched in the mask.
Shaad waited for Vega to lift himself up, an action the pirate captain immediately regretted when, just as soon as he'd gotten steady on his feet, Vega launched past his opponent. In the split second it took Shaad to turn his gaze over his shoulder, Vega had springboarded off the cage wall, metal claw bared threateningly, and zipped by, cutting three bloody scars into the side of Shaad's head, ripping off a piece of the youth's ear and almost taking out his left eye as well. With Shaad's freshly drawn blood dripping off the claw, Vega charged in again, but, Shaad was ready, ducking under the claw strike and connecting a punch of his own to Vega's ribs at the same time. He followed that up with a vicious hook to the shielded cheek of the masked fighter.
But, Vega seemed unfazed, countering with a backhand using the metal claw on his still extended arm. The impact shook Shaad, forcing him back. Vega tried to connect with a second backhand only to have his arm caught by the challenger, though he didn't panic, tagging the back of Shaad's knee nearest him with a heel kick. The blow put Shaad off balance and made an easy target for the follow up sweep kick that brought the wounded challenger to a knee. Completing the single kicking motion, Vega connected with a solid back kick to the nape of Shaad's neck, freeing his arm in the process.
Shaad was down, but not out, rolling away from the attempted axe kick that came next. As blood continued to pour from his newest cut, obstructing the vision in his left eye, though, he decided he could no longer afford to stay at Vega's preferred range, a variable made difficult to adjust to thanks in large part to the added reach of the claw. Shaad then rose into a crouched position, pushing off with enough added force to leave craters and cracks where his feet were.
Vega met the charge head on, but when Shaad went low for a tackle, he instead lifted up, delivering a powerful knee that knocked Shaad's nose nearly back into his skull, exploding his nasal passage with a single blow. Vega then used Shaad as a human springboard to back flip and land a toe kick, knocking the dazed challenger into the electrified cage.
The shock was more painful than he'd imagined, but that was the least of Shaad's problems at the moment as Vega landed and launched himself shoulder first into the young pirate. With Vega's shoulder rammed under his chin and his arms splayed out wide, Shaad could do nothing but grit his teeth and take the beating that Vega rained down upon him: a series of punches, knees, and elbows at the uncomfortably close range.
After almost two dozen direct, unopposed strikes, Vega let up, leaving a barely conscious Shaad to stumble forward haphazardly and without the charred remnants of his top, still jerking uncontrollably as the final volts worked their way through his beaten body, reaching for anything he could get his hands on. Vega still wasn't finished, though, hitting Shaad with a thunderous spinning roundhouse that threatened to shatter his jaw even as Shaad's fingers caught in the hairs of the champion's braid. The force shot them apart, snapping the band that held the braid neatly together, but Shaad felt the initial impact clearly as well as the sudden snap of his neck as Vega's foot collided with his jaw like a block of cement, making the flesh across his face ripple in response and spinning him across the cage into another part of the shocking grid. The pain wracked his body something awful, but somehow he gathered up enough willpower to focus and catch the jumping side kick Vega aimed at him, getting pulled along with Vega's leg away from the cage wall.
However, the brief respite turned out to only be the disheartening trip from the frying pan into the fire as Vega used his caught leg as a center point to jump and whip Shaad across the jaw with another bone jarring kick from his other leg, this time laying the resilient pirate out on the floor. Shaad was only remotely aware enough to roll away, primarily on instinct, from the fist that came at his head next. But, Vega had used the punch as decoy, pushing Shaad nearer the blades of his claw that sat waiting on the opposite side.
Shaad stopped in time enough not to have his throat slashed, landing a palm strike to the exposed wrist of Vega to remove the most immediate threat and imbalance his opponent, setting the champion up for a double kick to the chest and face. Shaad used the opportunity to immediately hop up, lashing out as he did so to fend off Vega. He pushed the last bits of his energy to their limits in an attempt to prolong the fight and maybe turn it back around, but, turning his head, he realized the futility of such an act as three sharp points pressed into the side of his larynx enough to just draw drops of blood. Somehow, the swift and agile Vega had gotten behind Shaad pressing a forearm to his back and the claw to his neck. If he were to fight back now, his throat would doubtlessly be ripped open and his blood would paint the floor.
Shaad didn't dare even breathe unwisely from his position. After calmly analyzing the dire situation, Shaad spoke lowly. "You got me. I give."
After a few more seconds, Vega shoved Shaad forward, his hand immediately reaching up as he balanced his footing. Shaad turned back to Vega slowly and unthreateningly, crooking his knee and giving a slight bow - too prideful to get on his knees for anyone - with his arms out to the side. He wore an oddly satisfied smile as he lifted his face up, raising his voice to be heard by the staff and the confused, waiting crowd. "This is my loss. . . You win."
The crowd was admittedly stunned by the development, some cheering Vega's dominant victory, some applauding the tenacity and fight Shaad showed, and others outraged by the anticlimactic end, wishing one side to be left dead and bleeding. Raine, though, looked most shocked and outraged, not only by the fact that Shaad lost, but the way in which he did so. But, Shaad's display was not only an admission of defeat. He left himself brazenly exposed to a killing strike from Vega, confident 'The Accursed Fang' wouldn't give up a kill he'd earned just to take one given to him not minutes later.
Shaad watched Vega as the victor gracefully glided across the ring, locking eyes with the man he challenged and failed to defeat. Even after such a strenuous match, Vega still held himself with a manufactured poise, refusing to let anyone see even the most minute signs of weakness even as his elegant, auburn hair cascaded in loose waves over his face, shoulders, and down his back. The two held their silent exchange until Vega strode past the bowing Shaad, not lifting a hand until he called for the door to be opened.
Dumbfounded by the fact that Vega's fight was over, yet his opponent still breathed, the announcer had to clear his head before officially declaring the match's result while the manager unlocked the door and allowed Vega to take the well-traveled path to the arena's infirmary. Other staff came inside the cage to escort Shaad to a separate part of the infirmary, and the ringside manager followed him away from the ring as the announcer put the finishing touches on the night's action.
The infirmary's doctor was surprisingly efficient, disinfecting the numerous cuts Shaad received during his bout, drawing a wince when alcohol was applied to the wound by his eye, before stitching up the cuts and providing him with a nasty drink to replenish some of his expended energy.
"You're quite lucky," the doctor conversed while applying an ice pad to Shaad's bruised ribs. "Not only is your eye still fully functional, but you're the first person to live through a fight with Vega."
"I guess he likes me," Shaad joked in response, his expression turning sour when the manager approached wearing an arrogant grin on his bulbous features.
"Time for you to pay up," he declared outright, foregoing any formalities.
"Time for you to return my swords," Shaad responded with equal impatience.
"It's time to honor your end of the deal."
"Gladly. . . as soon as I see my swords."
"You will pay your debts. . . Or else."
"Or else I won't?" Shaad questioned rhetorically, eliciting an irritated growl from the older man while covering his own growing annoyance as well.
"You're an arrogant prick if you think you have a choice," the manager boasted, calling three armed men to block the only doorway out.
"And, you're deaf in addition to blind and stupid if you think I don't," Shaad replied with the utmost seriousness, his anger steady rising in the time he spent without his prized weapons.
The two looked upon one another with fixed glares, each attempting to relay the unspoken threat. The atmosphere remained tense until a sound distracted them both.
"Ahem," a female cleared her voice loudly.
Shaad peaked over the manager's shoulder and spotted Raine with her baton extended in one hand and her drawstring bag on the opposing shoulder with the other, standing amidst the three now heavily bruised and unconscious guards. The rapid, incessant tapping of her foot accompanied by the highly pissed expression she wore made Shaad shy away in a near cold sweat as she spoke. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she questioned in an irritated tone.
The manager looked simultaneously enraged and confused as his eyes traveled over the beaten and swollen forms of his guards and up to the young woman standing triumphantly over them having not noticed her presence until she made herself known. At the same time, Shaad was trying to not be seen without looking like he was hiding. But, anything further was interrupted by the familiar ding of lift doors opening.
As the sound of heels clacking on a marble floor drew nearer, all eyes went to the set of doors in back of the infirmary. After a few moments with no sound but that continued clacking, everyone bore witness as a petite woman in a pinstripe business suit with a pencil skirt and black sheer stockings confidently strode in. Shaad immediately recognized her as the building manager from upstairs.
The ringside manager was the first to say anything, his voice hesitant and fearful. "Ma- ma'am," he uttered the single word nervously. "To what do we owe the honor?"
The woman, for her part, ignored the man's attempt at being cordial, immediately ordering, "Return this man his property; he is this hotel's special guest. As for you, this is the second time tonight you've almost disgraced Mr. Sangre's name. You will be punished accordingly." The ringside manager audibly gulped at the small woman's threat, snapping two fingers impatiently and in hurried fashion. A couple of minutes later, Shaad, who had moved to standing next to Raine, was reunited with his treasured blades. He'd avoided explaining the situation to a fuming Raine and could only hope that the tension and urgency of the situation prevented her from having an outburst when he asked, "Raine, pay them twenty million beli." However, he strongly doubted it would make a difference.
Needless to say, he was stupefied when she complied without so much as a dissenting word, handing the designated stack of bills to the composed and silently threatening woman, who thumbed through the bills and withdrew three million beli worth. She then handed the small stack back to Raine. "Manager's fee. The hotel's Events branch appreciates you loaning us such a fine competitor. Unfortunately, it is not allowed for a manager to bet against his or her own fighter. As such, your bet will remain in escrow for use at a future event. . . Be grateful; your man there put on a good show, and there's no evidence either of you were responsible for what befell our intended challenger."
Shaad and Raine appeared conflicted, but merely listened as Anna explained their position. With that business taken care of, Raine and Shaad were allowed to freely exit the area and return upstairs. For much of the walk, not a word passed between the two, leaving them alone in an awkward and deafening silence with Shaad following slowly behind her, eyes downcast in thoughtful reflection. "I can't believe you bet against me," he finally said.
"Seems like it was the right call," Raine retorted, her voice cold and callous as her demeanor, not even granting Shaad a glance over the shoulder.
Shaad had no response. He'd lost. But, more painful to his pride than a loss to a fighter the caliber of Vega was his navigator's lack of faith. "That's not the point. How could you do that to me?"
The look Raine shot at him froze the young captain in his place. He would've felt safer had she thrown actual daggers at him instead. But, at least she was actively acknowledging him; that was a small consolation.
The smallest consolation and nothing more as she again turned her back on him. Raine's silence left Shaad dazed and disheartened as she walked into the hotel lobby and out the front door without looking back while Shaad merely stood frozen on the top step behind the double doors to the lobby, watching Raine walk away through the small window on the door.
What seemed like hours ticked by in relative silence, each passing second mocking him endlessly until an employee swung the door smack into his face. The young woman dressed as a waitress quickly apologized before rushing down the stairs, but Shaad didn't hear a word of it, holding his bleeding nose tenderly as he finally walked through that seemingly cursed threshold, heading straight for the hotel's bar.
"Diamond Deal, clean?"
"Give me something stronger."
"Rough night, eh?"
"A lot stronger."
"Wow. That rough? . . Should I start a tab?"
"No money," Shaad replied with a wave of his empty hand.
"Then I guess this is on the house," she remarked while placing a drink in front of him, allowing her fingers to linger a bit longer than necessary. "Anna's gonna have her hands full for the next few hours."
Shaad's empty gaze wandered aimlessly across the sparsely filled lobby, his expression listless as it landed on the wood shelf. The broken bottles had of course been replaced, but the mahogany wood stained darker by flowing liquor acted as a reminder of days earlier. "Sorry bout that," he muttered with a lazy point around his glass.
"No worries," the bartender replied. "Though, will your lady friend be joining us? I might want to move the good stuff."
The bartender's laugh had an enticing lilt to it, and the joke brought a small smile to Shaad's lips as their eyes met. "No; and, we're not -"
"Sure you aren't," the bartender interrupted, her expression one of knowing non-belief.
"Am I wrong," Shaad began, his words coming out slow and with a stressing weight.
Yes," she again interrupted him, this time with a pleasant, almost tantalizing, smirk. "It's a rare type of woman that any argument you have with her isn't automatically your fault. . . I don't know what kind of relationship (you think) you have with her, but just save yourself the time and get the words 'I'm sorry' tattooed on your tongue right now."
Shaad's smile spread ever so slightly. Mel, the bartender, was great company and so easy to talk to.
"I do tattoos, too, if you're interested," Mel joked.
"Na, I'll stick to just saying it." The pair shared another short, sweet chuckle, continuing to talk and laugh over drinks for an extended period. It was nice for them both, and something Shaad clearly needed. But, no matter what they talked about or how wide Shaad's smile got, something stayed nagging at the back of his head, a dark spot - no, a deep pit - he could never fully squelch or satisfy.
After a few more hours had passed, and the hotel's public facilities were shutting down for the night, Shaad made to leave, rising from his barstool with a stumble and staggering forward a few steps.
"You need some help," Mel called. "You had quite a bit to drink."
"I'm fine," Shaad slurred, drunkenly taking a couple more steps before straightening up, taking a moment to pause and plant his feet, and moving forward with a steady conviction. "Just needed to focus a bit," he assured her. "I gotta take care of something important," he said firmly, throwing a loose wave goodbye over his shoulder as he stepped to the wide, glass panel doors of the entrance.
Mel wore a soft smile as she watched on, silently wishing him luck.
"Thanks for everything."