Knockout: A Short Story Part 1

In a dark locker room, only one man occupies it. He waits with an overwhelming feeling of intensity. He's been in this situation many times before, but the feeling never truly goes away. The man ponders every move he plans on making. His concentration is broken only by a sudden call.

"Hey Beffi, you're up next!", shouted the man opening the door.

The lone man in the room, Simon Beffi, storms out of the room like a bullet out of a gun. Simon marches through the halls before stopping at the doorway. He takes a pause to take it all in and sharpen his focus. Simon has gone through these doors before, and is all too aware of what awaits on the other side. He barges through the doors, ready to fight.

Simon looks over a crowd filled with dozens of blood-craved spectators, waiting to see someone go down hard. Simon gets into a makeshift ring, made of ropes tied to four kegs. Waiting for him is his opponent, "Charging" Brody Callaghan, waiting anxiously. The referee gets in between the combatants to lay down the rules, or at least the closest thing to rules an underground street fight can have.

"Alright guys, you know the deal. This fight ain't ending until one of you can't get the fuck up by the count of ten,” says the referee.

The referee gives the signal to start the fight, and Simon charges at Callaghan. Simon comes in with stiff punches to the gut, and then to the head. Simon knows Callaghan is as good a striker as anyone in the underground, so he has to take the fight to him. Simon has Callaghan cornered, raining rights and lefts to the lower and upper body. Callaghan manages to shove Simon off of him, and lands a massive hay-maker. Simon stumbles back, only for Callaghan to pounce on him. Callaghan picks Simon up, and starting whaling on him with body shots. Simon gasps for air, as he feels his rib cage slowly starting to crack. Callaghan nails Simon with a wild right hook that knocks him out cold. Simon lays on the floor motionless, as the referee makes the easy ten count.

Five minutes later, Simon wakes up to see the referee looking over him. "Come on kid, pick yourself up!" barked the referee. Simon, with blood pouring from his mouth, slowly gets up and walks back to the locker room. When he gets to the locker room, Simon goes to the nearest mirror. Simon sees himself for the pummeled-up mess he had become. Simon starts to break down, and sob uncontrollably.

Not because he lost the fight, but because he was still alive.

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