CLAIRE
~Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot!~ I berate myself internally. Iâm clueless as to how I ended up in Blakeâs house. His actual house.
I remember everything, really. All up until I bumped into someoneâBlakeâand then everything went black.
I guess he brought me back to his place and waited for me to come to. I just wished he wouldnât ask me anything, or that he didnât see anything that happened.
âClaire! Where on earth have you been? Youâre on in three minutes!â Nancy scolds me the moment I step into the alley.
Nancyâs been doing better since the incident with Logan. I think, for the most part, sheâs bounced back from the shock with Logan. Except for the occasional nightmares and the paranoia she experiences when sheâs alone.
I roll my eyes as I unzip my jacket, shielding my bare stomach from the biting cold wind that sweeps through the night.
âI know, and Iâm sorry. I just lost track of time and as soon as I realized it, I started running. But Iâm here now, right?â I respond, while stepping out of my sweatpants to reveal my short red boxing shorts.
After I bolted from Blakeâs house, I ran to mine and quickly changed into my boxing gear and grabbed my bag before heading out. My father was just waking up when I dashed back out of the house.
I had slipped into my red boxing shorts, and my blue sports bra, with a black jacket to zip up. I also put on my purple converse before leaving the house, because I kind of needed to run in shoes.
Nancy rolls her eyes, but doesnât question further. âJust remember: This is your last fight until spring. So, make it count.â She grins at me.
I grin back, and just then we hear the loud screech of the megaphone being pulled to the announcerâs lips.
âMay I remind you all, this is the last fight before spring. So, I hope you all placed your bets and are excited for tonightâs fights,â the announcer begins with a grin in my direction, clearly aware that most of the bets were on me.
âWhite Wolf has been the undefeated champ ever since sheâs joined this place, and each night the fighters get better and better, but never enough to beat the great White Wolf.
So, tonight, just like every other night before a big break, sheâs going to be fighting the seven other top fighters of this year. So⦠please give it up for White Wolf and the Hooded King!â
The announcer shouts as my opponent and I step into the ring.
My own hood covers my head as I size him up. His hood also covers his head, but his face is still fully visible.
Tan skin, toned chest and muscles, high cheekbones, crooked nose, with dark brown hair that falls past his eyes and light green eyes. He looks no older than twenty-one, maybe twenty-two.
I smirk inwardly as he, too, sizes me up. A look of confusion and distaste crosses his face once he realizes Iâm just a teenage girl. ~Fool doesnât know that appearances can be deceiving.~
After someone came and explained the usual rules and we shook hands, his grip just a bit tighter on my hand, the bell rang and he immediately lunged at me.
Caught off guard by the sudden attack, I quickly elbowed his back, hard, and lifted my knee into his âarea.â He hissed out in pain and I quickly rolled from underneath him.
As soon as I was up on my feet, he was starting to get up. Quickly walking over to him, I grasped his face in my hand, and delivered a strong, hard punch to the jaw.
I smirked when I heard a crack. He hissed in pain again and spit out some blood.
I looked at him, before grasping his face with both my hands and whispering into his ear. âNot so little and weak now, am I?â I smirked when he shivered from my warm breath.
Taking advantage of his vulnerability, I quickly brought up my knee and kneed him again.
He tumbled down and when he got back up, I swung my left fist to his right eye and he fell down, now unconscious.
Wow, that didnât even last a full five minutes! And~ he~ was one of the best fighters!~ Please!~
~
I heard shouts, cheers, groans, and screams as the match ended. I barely broke a sweat. The only thing he managed to do was tackle me to the ground, before I showed him no mercy.
I raised an eyebrow and looked at the announcerâs stunned face. He quickly shook his head out of his daze and brought out the next victim.
He was tall, with a pierced lip and eyebrow. Blonde hair with blue eyes and a toned chest. He wasnât bad looking, but I always look past that.
Actually, most of the guys I fight arenât bad looking. I think they believe they can use their body and looks to distract me, but it backfires every time because they always seem to fall for my charm.
As soon as the bell rang, he faked a right, then went left and landed a nice left uppercut to my jaw. I let out a slight hiss and spit out some blood.
I looked back just in time to see his tall figure launching at me. I dove to the side at the last second, making him run right into the ropes that surrounded the ring.
I stifled a laugh at his dazed state and quickly ran to turn him around.
He seemed to be in a daze as he swayed a bit and tried to regain composure.
I smirked and pulled back my fist, before swinging it quickly and fast towards his face and was quite satisfied when I heard the sickening crunch from his nose.
Blood trickled fast down his nose as he tried to stop the bleeding.
~When in a fight, never become distracted! Always make sure to nurse your wounds at the END of the fight!~
~
I grin at that thought as I grasp his head and swing him down to my knee. I hear a painful groan and hiss of pain from the guy as he pulls back.
He staggers forward, but I step out of the way before he can even touch me. He then sways forward a bit, then backwards.
I slowly walk over to him, my head hanging low, and I walk nose-to-nose with him. I lift my head, and my gaze meets his glazed, tired eyes.
Then, I blow lightly on his face, and thatâs all it takes before he falls backwards on the ground.
Two down, five to go!
Itâs now 10:28 p.m. and Iâm about to fight my final match. So far, Iâve won all of the fights. All of the guys seemed to be in a daze and at a loss for words as they saw my skills, and that Iâm not messing around.
I take a deep breath and gulp down some water. My throat feels like sandpaper. Every hit I take, I hiss in pain, but I keep my screams locked away.
My nose is bleeding, my left jaw is bruised, thereâs another bruise on my gut, and my right eye is a canvas of black and purple. But I can handle it.
âAnd now... weâre down to the final match of the night!â the announcer bellows, a megawatt grin plastered on his face. I can tell heâs got something planned. Something Iâm not going to like.
âPlease welcome back Poisonous Silver!â he roars.
I freeze. Poisonous Silver was my first match. Sheâyes, ~sheâ~despised me from the get-go. She said I didnât belong in her world, that I needed to be put in my place.
She only stoked my anger. When that bell rang, I showed her no mercy. The fight lasted about half an hour, until I finally won by landing a powerful blow to her nose, knocking her out.
That first match left me bruised and badly injured. She broke my wrist and sprained my knee.
Bruises and cuts marked my bodyâsome still scar my skinâand I ended up breaking her left hand, bruising her knee, and leaving her face covered in bruises, along with a nasty cut on her eyebrow.
Somehow, I won that fight. But she always promised sheâd get even one day. And it seems today is that day.
I see her smirk in my direction. She flexes her fingers and cracks her knuckles in a threatening manner.
Sheâs wearing a dark purple sports bra and matching boxing shorts. Her blonde hair cascades down to her waist and her dark, green, emerald eyes glare back at me. Her eyes are a cocktail of hate, anger, revenge, and a hint of fear.
I smirk back at her. That hint of fear in her eyes is enough to banish any doubts from my mind. She wants a fight: sheâs going to get one. One sheâll never forget!
The announcer calls me up, and I take my time walking to the ring. My stance alone shows that Iâm not afraid of her, even though inside Iâm a little scared of this girl. But Iâll never admit it or show any signs of it.
She grins and gives a curt nod. âWhite Wolf,â she says, using my boxing name.
I raise an eyebrow and nod back. âPoisonous Silver,â I reply.
Her name is Poisonous Silver because she loves the color and believes that silver kills wolves. My name is White Wolf. Get it?
I glance around. The cool breeze sends a shiver through my body. The old, moldy, rusty walls of the alley are crumbling, and the sky is studded with bright stars.
The sun has fully set, and the alley is packed with people around the ring, all eager to watch the Return of Poisonous Silver.
Theyâre all waiting excitedly for the fight to start. Waiting to see who wins.
The referee goes over the usual rules, and after we shake handsâtightlyâthe bell rings.
As soon as that bell rings, everything else fades away. All I can hear is my pounding heartbeat and her heavy breathing. We circle each other like predators.
Neither of us dares to make the first move. I was scared for a few months, but when she didnât show up, I relaxed and forgot about her promise to return.
I was foolish to underestimate her, but then again, so is she.
Suddenly, a fist comes flying my way. Instinctively, my hands shoot up and catch her fist, just inches from my nose. I smirk under my hood at her shocked reaction.
I squeeze her fist tightly, twisting it to a 180-degree angle.
She yells and hisses in pain when I let go. Her eyes are filled with pain and rage as she glares at me. I shrug and wink at her, knowing itâll get under her skin.
It does. She lunges at me, but I duck, and she goes flying over me, hitting the ground. She quickly gets up and turns, landing a hard punch to my stomach.
I gasp as she pushes me back. I cough and elbow her in the back as hard as I can.
I can tell itâs going to leave a bruise on both of us. She jumps back and bites her lip, holding back a scream.
She recovers and tackles me to the ground. We grapple for what feels like hours, but is only a few minutes. Each of us gaining the upper hand, then losing it.
When she rolls me over and straddles me for the fourth time, Iâve had enough. I maneuver my body to give my legs some room to move.
Then, I kick her off me. She bites her lip again as I get up and throw an uppercut to her right eye.
She staggers back, but regains her balance and lunges at me again. I dodge quickly and she freezes when she realizes she didnât tackle me.
I hear it before I see it. The sound of her fist coming my way. I grab her fist before it can hit me, and spin around. I hoist her onto my shoulder and throw her down on the mat.
A loud scream escapes her lips as she hits the mat hard.
I hear âoohsâ and âahhsâ from the crowd.
She lies there for a second, then shakes her head and staggers back up. Her bleeding lip and bloody nose donât make her look very intimidating, but I know better than to underestimate her strength and skills.
I still remember some of her moves, which is why Iâm not ~as~ bruised and bloody. I only have a few more bruises and a small cut under my eye.
Regaining her sight, her eyes narrow to slits as she spits out a mouthful of blood. Then, she walks toward me, slowly.
I raise my fist, ready for the blows about to be thrown. But nothing happens. She just stands there, smirking.
I see her hand behind her back, the other on her hip. Her smirk is knowing. Sheâs got something planned that Iâm sure I wonât like.
Before I can think any further, she whips out her hand and thrusts it toward me.
I hear gasps echo through the alley as a knife plunges into my stomach.
Pain hits immediately, and I feel a surge of weakness and sharp pain throughout my body. Blood starts to seep from the wound.
I slowly sink to my knees, but then a thought strikes me. ~If Iâm going to die, Iâll die fighting.~
A fresh wave of confidence washed over me. I sucked in a deep breath, my vision blurring slightly as tears threatened to spill.
My hood was still up, hiding my face from the world. I watched as she slowly approached me, her footsteps echoing in the silence.
She leaned in close, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispered, âBossâs orders.â I could see the smirk playing on her lips as she noticed my frown.
But I wasnât about to let a little injury stop me. I sprang to my feet, spinning her around to face me. Gasps echoed around us, her eyes widening in terror as she saw my fist flying towards her.
It was a replay of our first fight. My fist made a brutal, unforgiving contact with the center of her face, right between her eyes.
She crumpled to the ground, and only then did the stabbing pain truly hit me. Shouts and screams filled the air, urging me to âCome on,â and to âCall someone.â
My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the cold, hard ground.
The knife was still lodged in my stomach, and I could feel someoneâs hands shaking me.
Blood was seeping out faster now, the pain almost too surreal to comprehend.
~Voices.~ ~I could hear distant voices, muffled and far away as my vision blurred and watered. My stomach twisted in agony, and I let out a low groan.
But through all the pain and chaos, one thought dominated my mind as I slipped into the welcoming darkness.
~I won all seven matches!~