Deeply Destructive

“Next!” he shouted.

 

It started to all blur together. I was getting truly tired now. Everyone else was relatively fresh, whereas I had already done an intense workout and had now been fighting straight through, without a break. But each new person he sent in, I was able to last the full two minutes.

 

The crowd was starting to get quieter and quieter as I continued my run through their team.

 

I’d gone into a zone. It had happened to me only a few times in my entire career thus far, usually during a big fight. Everything would sort of go quiet and I wouldn’t feel tired anymore. I would just be in this very calm place where the world seemed to slow down and become serene.

 

It was like I could anticipate the punches and kicks that were coming and move easily out of the way. My own punches were rapid, fluid and accurate. I danced around the cage like Muhammad Ali.

 

Person after person got inside with me but nobody could make me quit.

 

Finally, I’d started to make my way to the big boys, the guys who were much heavier and taller than me. These also happened to be the ones who were actually fighting in the UFF, and they weren’t nobodies. They were contenders.

 

The first one I recognized was Virgil Jones, a lanky but muscular light heavyweight who was known for his vicious knees and elbows. I’d seen highlight reels of his knockouts.

 

The crowd outside the cage started to chant: “Virgil! Virgil! Virgil!” They were sick of me beating everyone up.

 

For the first time in a while, I felt tired again. My arms and legs were heavy. I was winded.

 

Virgil seemed to recognize it. He grinned wickedly at me as he moved across the canvas.

 

I went into a defensive shell, suddenly timid. Virgil took advantage of my weakness and wrapped his hands around the back of my head, grabbing me in what was known as the “Muay Thai Clinch.” This was a position where the opponent would trap you and keep your head in his hands so that he could deliver a series of brutal knees to your midsection. Eventually, if you bent over, the knees would begin landing on your face.

 

Virgil began delivering the knees to my stomach. They felt like he was hitting me with a tire iron. I knew I couldn’t take many more of those. Somehow, I found the strength to break free from his clinch. He followed me back as I went to the cage. He threw a few dazzlingly fast punches. One of them caught me on the nose and I saw stars.

 

It was the hardest I’d ever been hit in my life. I felt my knees buckle.

 

The crowd erupted but it was faint in my ears.

 

“He’s going down!” someone screeched.

 

“Knock him the fuck out, Virgil!”

 

Some part of me heard that and it brought me back to my senses. I refused to go down. I literally ran away from him as he chased me down inside the cage. But he got a little careless. He thought I was hurt, and I was hurt. But I was still dangerous. As he came forward, I threw a left hook that he never saw coming. It caught him on the temple and he actually crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

 

It was a one-punch knockout.

 

The crowd went truly silent as everyone just stared.

 

Even I was shocked by what I’d done.

 

Quarry went over and knelt down beside Virgil, helping him get to his feet. He was wobbly and confused, and needed assistance out of the cage.

 

Quarry glanced at me, his expression dark with fury. “Okay, let’s bring in the next guy. Somebody better put this fucking kid away. Doesn’t anyone in my gym have any balls?”

 

This time, another pro stepped into the cage. It was yet another light heavyweight, Malcolm “The Pit bull” Stevens. He was an outstanding collegiate wrestler who was built like a tank, with a short blond crew cut and beady blue eyes. He wasn’t smiling. He wanted to crush me.

 

Meanwhile, I was barely able to stand up and here was a guy who probably outweighed me by twenty or thirty pounds and had wrestled at an elite level.

 

And he was fresh as a daisy.

 

Malcolm came at me and shot for the double leg takedown. Somehow I was able to avoid it. Next, he rushed forward and got me against the cage. He was even stronger than I’d feared he would be. Suddenly, I was flying backwards through the air as he slammed me against the canvas.

 

For a second, everything went blank. When I came to again, he was starting to get on top of me and throw brutally hard punches to my face and chest. He smashed an elbow onto my forehead. I was so tired. I knew it was almost over now. My energy was gone and he was too damn big and strong.

 

Nobody would fault me for losing at this point.

 

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