Eight
Ara
Saturday night finds me and Ivy in a fighting ring— Nocturne .
We have been loyal to the one which we had been visiting since college even if Nocturne has been famous for a while. But when the fighting ring which we frequented was closed last week, we decided to check out this place which has been the talk of the town.
Like all fighting rings, this space is also illegal. But there isn’t any secret code like the others to let us in.
The scary-looking bouncer guy stands in front of a large iron door that creaks every time someone opens it. There is even valet parking available and I don’t see any police coming to bust them. That is the least of my concerns right now.
The bouncer/ticket collector glares at me as if he wishes to strangle me. I don’t fault him. I openly gaped at his shining bald head with a red and black dragon tattoo without so much as blinking. I must’ve made the man self-conscious for all I know.
“Thanks,” Ivy drags me by my hand.
Both of us struggle to push the heavy door open and the guy doesn’t so much as look at us to help. With a lot of struggle, the door opens with a heavy groan and our ears are greeted by near-deafening screams of enthusiastic spectators. Ivy and I stumble inside, looking around with widened eyes. The place is huge.
The arena is situated on a floor below, looking more like a cavernous space with its rocky walls surrounding us. It looks like someone scooped out the inside of a massive cave to make space for the fighting ring that is surrounded by a metal cage. Strobe lights decorate the place here and there so that there is some light to see. Steep stairs lead towards the arena.
I look around while I slowly climb down the stony stairs. A mezzanine is built behind the ring where there is a betting cage that is surrounded by gamble-hungry people screaming something unintelligible.
There are bouncers situated all across the arena, all of them tall, packed with muscles and looking around for trouble. If there is even the slightest form of trouble, they are fast to intervene and break it or grab the troublemakers by the scruffs of their neck, to probably throw them out of the establishment.
We probably must have missed the introduction of the fighters, because by the time we run towards one side of the fighting ring, one of the fighters has already walked in.
While running from the stairs, I caught the host informing that the price of losing in these matches was his/her life. Cutthroat. Wow. I’m not sure if I’d like to see such a cut-throat fight, but we are already here, I might as well enjoy the experience.
The one already standing in the ring wears a red boxer, looking determined and serious. If I’m fighting for my life, I’d be serious too.
The host screams into his mic, announcing the next fighter, Shadow .
The strobe light shifts to our left, stopping outside the mouth of a narrow corridor. The crowd goes absolutely mental when the fighter from the black corner steps into the light. Even from a distance, I recognise him and hear Ivy’s sharp gasp from my side.
“Fuck!” she curses.
Shadow is none other than, Nico—one of the men from the night in Roarfort. He is clad in black boxers.
His dark scowl like that night is still in its place as he walks towards the ring. He doesn’t seem to care about the wild cheers that shake the walls around us for him. He is tightening the tape around his hands while he cracks his head sideways.
The man is solidly built, his physique a display of brute strength rather than refinement. Faint silver scars crisscross his skin, stark reminders of past violence. My eyes snag on a symbol burned into his back—a mark that stirs unwelcome, unsettling memories. Memories I shake away, immediately.
His story could be anything, but the scars etched across his body speak volumes of pain and suffering—enough to break and reshape anyone. It’s easy to condemn criminals for their actions, but few consider what might have led them down such a path.
No one is born with hate. It’s a lesson the world teaches, while love comes naturally. Circumstances mould us, shaping individuals to either conform to society or rise against it.
Shadow—Nico enters the cage, his dark eyes settling over his opponent.
In the dimly lit arena, the air buzzes with anticipation as Nico steps into the ring. Across from him, Viper, looking equally formidable, eyes him with determination. The bell rings, and the fighters explode into motion.
The crowd roars, the din of their excitement echoing off the rocky walls.
Viper is the first to move, his scream of rage ringing off the walls as he comes towards Nico with full force. The urge to close my eyes kicks in, but I don’t. The morbid fascination that I find in these fights does not allow me to.
Nico easily dodges the punch aimed at his jaw, circling Viper. He lands a quick jab that keeps Viper off balance. Nico is brilliant at exploiting openings with swift and controlled strikes. His training can be seen in every movement, each punch and kick thrown with purpose and power.
Nico is a seasoned fighter. Even without the knowledge of who he is, it would be evident in the way he fights. He possesses the fluidity that can only be seen in a man who fights frequently.
Viper looks like he is no stranger to the ring as well. He tries to retaliate with ferocity, but Nico anticipates every move. He weaves effortlessly through Viper’s attacks, slipping past defences with a blend of agility and timing. A thunderous kick lands squarely on Viper’s midsection, eliciting curses from people who bet on him as Viper barrels back.
Nico presses forward, his face shifting, his dark scowl deepening. He is relentless with his powerful punches and kicks that Viper tries to dodge but fails. With every strike, Nico gains ground, his dominance undeniable.
He finishes the match with a final, devastating blow—a precise hook that connects with Viper’s jaw—and he sends his opponent crashing to the ground.
The arena erupts in cheers as the referee counts Viper out. Nico throws a cursory glance Viper’s way, who stays down, not moving an inch. I hope the man is just unconscious and not dead. But the punch was powerful and it landed right on the mark. Two men walk into the ring at the same time Nico turns to exit.
“Let’s fuck, Shadow,” a lady yells from my side.
Nico’s eyes turn our side and instead of landing on the woman who is exhilarated that she thinks he sees her, they catch mine. Then they shift towards Ivy and his scowl turns even more angry.
His nostrils flare and his eyes narrow at us, his expression an epitome of terror. He walks out of the ring without another glance our way, but I still shiver at his glare, wondering what must have garnered that reaction. I didn’t even talk to that man and have only met him once.
“If looks could kill, we would be burned to the ground already,” Ivy shivers at my side.
I nod, walking with the crowd towards the bar that is on the other side. There was an announcement which said that the next fight would commence in a few minutes until they took the bets.
“Should we place some bets?” Ivy asks.
“Based on what? We don’t even know who fights best in the next match,”
“We could always guess,” she shrugs.
“You are a terrible gambler,” I laugh lightly
“Not everyone’s blessed with a brain like yours,”
I shrug. It is not a blessing. Remembering everything in detail, unable to forget even if I force myself to. It is more of a curse than a gift.
I gasp when someone crashes to my side, sending their drink flying all over the side of my shirt.
“Shit. Fuck! I paid fucking 20 bucks for that drink!” the girl complains without even a hint of apology in her tone.
“Watch where you go,” Ivy pushes her away.
The girl walks away muttering some curses under her breath while Ivy and I assess the damage. We have dinner plans after this and I cannot show up in the restaurant that I put us on a month-long waiting list with a beer stain on my shirt.
“I need to find a restroom,” I say, looking around.
“I’ll come along,” Ivy says but I shake my head.
“There is a long line. You can wait in it while I go clean this mess up,”
“What? No! This place is new and frankly gives me heebie-jeebies.” Ivy argues.
“I’ll be fine, Ives. I’m parched and I promise to be back in 10,” I promise.
Ivy isn’t convinced but nods.
“I’m launching a full-scale man-hunt if you don’t return in ten minutes,” she vows before I turn to find a restroom.
I ask one of the friendly-looking bouncers for directions as I pray to god that the liquid shouldn’t stain.
* * *
In retrospect, I should’ve taken Ivy’s suggestion and brought her along.
We would still be lost, but at least we would be lost together. To add to the list of bad things happening to me today, this place doesn’t have a signal to make a call.
I blame those rut bunnies for this mishap. Outside the loo, two pairs were going at it. With excited moans coming from them, crossing the corridor had been impossible. And I had no qualms about seeing anyone’s naked parts. So I walked into an adjoining corridor that turned out to be a maze.
I decided to stop calling myself brilliant in directions because here, I’m the worst. I have no idea where I ended up and with each turn I take, it feels like I’m going deeper into the cave.
And yes, that is what this place is. In my exploration, I found that this is a wide cave with furrows that must have been built for escape. Most of them looked unused. I stuck to the used ones even if the curious side of me wanted to explore the unexplored. I shut her down, trying my best to listen for the noise from the crowd.
Echo has never bitten my arse more than now, confusing me as the sound of the crowd comes from all around me.
I check my phone for the hundredth time, groaning at the no signal flashing on the screen. What use is the 98% battery when there is no signal? I couldn’t even get the stain out of my cute pink top. I don’t think this night could get any worse.
The fates must have taken that as a challenge. I walk into a corridor which has a door fit into its wall. There is an opening at the end of this one, with light shining through. The screams of the crowd are more clear now, indicating that another fight has started. I look at my watch, noting that I’ve been missing for 30 minutes.
Uh-Oh. Ivy will kill me!
I hurry towards the end of the corridor, praying to god that Ivy hasn’t gone into her panic mode yet. She will do good to her promise and launch a manhunt for me.
The door opens and two men step out of it. One of them looks like a fighter—his hands are taped, and he is clad in nothing but a black boxer. There is another man in a tracksuit beside him
Both of them stop and look at me. The trainer smirks.
“Looks like one of your fangirls here, Leo,” he says.
The fighter, Leo smiles and for some reason, it sends a chill down my spine. The way his eyes scan me and stay a bit longer on my chest send warning bells in my head.
“Good luck,” I say and try to walk away.
I jump when a strong grip on my arm stops me from moving and turn to see Leo cocking his head at me.
“Leaving so soon?”
The trainer leaves, without so much as a glance my way.
“I need to go. My friends will be looking for me,” I warn.
The man only smiles wider. “Better not keep them waiting then,”
He moves closer, his intent clear in the way his eyes slip towards the slight cleavage that peeks from my shirt. I have no idea what I had done for him to think that it was okay to barge into my private space. I try to remove my hand from his grip and take a step back when he is close.
“Let me go,” I struggle in his grip.
He frowns in confusion. “Come on now, don’t play hard. I know you’re here for a fuck.”
My eyes widen in both shock and alarm.
“What? No! No, no no,” I shake my head at him. “I was lost when I went to use the restroom and ended up here. To be honest, I haven’t even seen you fight. So no, I’m not here for sex,” I explain.
Seems like that was the wrong thing to say. His eyes which were confused flare in anger, his grip tightening on my hand. The man isn’t that tall, only a couple of inches over me, but darn it, he is strong. Strong enough to back me to the wall and keep his grip on me despite my fight.
“Doesn’t matter,” he declares and horror fills my veins.
The narrow corridor is dark, the faint glow of a distant light barely cutting through the thick shadows. My heart leaps into my throat, terror freezing me in place for a split second before adrenaline kicks in. I twist violently, trying to break free, but the man's grip tightens. I bring my other hand to push him away but he easily pins it over my head. My back hits the wall with a loud thud, pain flaring all over.
My breath comes in short, panicked gasps, eyes wide with fear as I struggle against him. I feel his hot breath on my neck, the weight of his body pressing me into the cold, unyielding rocky wall that scrapes against my skin. My mind screams, every instinct screaming at me to escape, but his strength is overwhelming, his hold suffocating.
I thrash desperately, trying to free my hands so that I can do him some harm. His grip doesn’t lose and his smile turns vicious.
“Stay fucking still,” he orders.
I don’t listen.
I trash wildly, screaming until my throat hurts.
The time is against me as the fight has already started and it is impossible to hear my screams over the cheers of the crowd. Tears blur my vision as I kick out, my foot connecting with his shin. He curses his voice a low growl of anger. He doesn’t move but instead grips the base of my hair and bangs my head back on the wall.
I scream both at the pain and realise what he wants to happen. He wants me to fall unconscious so that he can rape me.
Adrenaline doesn’t let the dizziness cloud my vision, instead, I spit on his face, cursing the day he was born. I stop trying to beg him, monsters like him don’t listen. They get their kick listening to their victims begging and I’d be darned if I give him that satisfaction.
“Fucking bitch!”
His hand flies out of nowhere and smacks me right on my cheek. I feel the skin inside my cheek and the corner of my lip tearing. The immediate hits to my head momentarily have my vision turning black.
The slap was hard, painful and scary. He is strong, he is almost immovable but he is having difficulty in keeping me in place. I can feel the strength slowly leaving my body. It can only fight for so long and he keeps hitting my head and hands.
I use all my strength for one last time and cry for help giving it my everything. Leo cringes at the sound but doesn’t deter his focus. I close my legs when his breath touches my cheek. His lips force on mine while his other hand roughly squeezes my breast.
It hurts, it hurts so bad but I don’t open my mouth. It aggravates him and he bites down on my lip, hard. This time I do cry as I feel blood dripping from his assault.
He lets out a sinister chuckle, his free hand going down to my thighs. I try to scream again, but it hurts. It hurts to even make the noises from his assault and I don’t think I can scream again. But I have to. I have to escape this. I don’t think I will be able to survive another nightmare. I’m barely keeping it together from the ones I already have.
I open my mouth, trying to scream but only a hoarse cry comes out. Leo laughs at my pathetic attempt and roughly spreads my legs. I feel the stretch in my hip joint, the pain so intense that I trash in his hands wildly, begging him to let me go.
“It hurts, please,” I beg, not knowing what to do.
He only laughs, gripping my thigh in place before his hands go for the button of my jeans.
No!
My eyes widen in horror. I try to kick him with my other leg, try to bite his face, to do something but he doesn’t come as close. He growls in frustration and this time when he bangs my head on the wall, the blackness that creeps in doesn’t leave soon. I can still feel his vile hands on my body, one of them gripping both my hands over the wall and the other trying to open the buttons of my jeans.
I try to move, I try to fight, but everything feels groggy. My words come out in a slur, fear that I cram into the deepest recess of my mind coming out to dominate my senses. It dims down my fight and tries to force me to accept the reality that no one can save me.
There is no one to save me.
No one saved me the first time.
I was all alone, left to rot and die with no help. It is hard to accept the reality that there’s no vigilante out there to save us. Numerous women are being subjected to abuse at the hands of men just because they can. I’m about to become another statistic.
The sound of the man popping open my button does it. The sound of it is louder than my screams, louder than the pain flaring from every part of my body, louder than the crowd that roars wildly in the arena.
Another demon is about to join the existing ones, waiting to devour me with time.
“Help…please…” I try one last time.
Maybe I should give up. Maybe I should let the darkness take over so that I wouldn’t at least be conscious or even alive for what’s going to happen next. Maybe if I close my eyes and I won’t have to wake up.
Maybe finally, my borrowed time is up.