THE LAST BORN

E L E V E N

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Jackie's voice rings above soft murmurs in the background. Jackie pushes the crowd with her shoulders left and right, squeezing herself between bodies to get to the ring. Malcolm can see from the corner of his eye that her face has turned red with her hands on her hips, she is beyond pissed.

"What are you thinking?! Are you crazy?!" She rounds the netted ring and gets closer to where he stretches. He has only two limbs he needs to stretch so it won't take too long, it's already five minutes to nine.

"Seriously, stop this! People are already angry with you! What are you...? Oh, God! What are you doing?!" Jackie hisses as she clutches the nets in her tiny hands. If Malcolm hears her, he doesn't show any sign, his eyes are fixed at the entrance, waiting for Noir to walk in, he will show everyone that she is nothing but a con, manipulative being that had been aiding their enemy.

"Please!" Jackie tries again, "Stop this!"

Malcolm ignores her as he starts jumping in place. It's now two minutes to nine o'clock.

When something dark comes to his vision, he stops and stares. Feeling their leader's sudden stillness, the rest of the people are looking in the same direction. Right at the entrance, they found Noir, shaking as she takes her steps closer to the ring.

"Don't hurt her, please," Jackie whispers as Noir walks closer. People move out of her way and watch her as she steps slowly to the ring, eyes full of empathy and pity follow her, and Malcolm feels sick of it.

When Noir finally inside the ring, she hugs herself and presses her back to the nets. One cannot act more like a scared, caged animal like Noir at this exact moment. Malcolm grits his teeth looking at her and walks to the center of the ring. "Come forward." He commands, and although Noir is terrified, she obeys his words.

Noir keeps her eyes on the floor as Malcolm glares at her.

"On your fighting stance," He barks.

Noir lifts her head and sees Malcolm moving his feet shoulder-width apart, so she copies him.

"The rule is simple, hit, or get hit,"

Noir's heart drops to the bottom of her feet as she listens to him. There is no way she can hit anybody, even if, by some miracle, she can swing her fist, she needs more than luck to be able to touch him.

He, on the other hand, doesn't need the luck to hit her. Malcolm's fist swings fast and before Noir can see him moving, she sees his knuckles right in front of her face. She instantly drops to the ground to escape the painful contact. Malcolm sneers and swings his legs only for Noir to curl into a ball trying to save her stomach and intestine from a painful kick.

"Get up!" Malcolm barks.

Noir peaks from her fetal position to see him standing with two feet. She shakes as she uncurled herself and looks at the man. A quiet whine escapes her mouth as her heart beats out of ordinary.

"Stand up! On your fighting stance!" He orders her.

Slowly, with her body shaking uncontrollably, she summons the strength her legs need to support her.

"Wider!" He says pointing to her feet. "Too wide! Right foot on the front, YOUR right not mine!"

She wants to cry. People are watching her being ordered around like an animal, she is scared beyond belief, and she has the feeling the best scenario is, that she will walk out of this ring with her limbs broken.

"Fist your hands, bring them up to your front! No, higher! Not too close to your chest." Malcolm keeps barking at her while she keeps losing the courage to look at him.

"Look at your opponent, look at me!"

So she does, but this time, he doesn't imprison me with his stare, it was him, was in trance, the raging coldness in his eye seems to still for a moment. Noir watches him as Malcolm walks closer and closer. With every step he took, his frames gets bigger and bigger. Noir's heartbeats painfully fast as the distance between them become less and less. Malcolm lifts up his palm to her front without breaking their eye contact.

"Now hit my palms,"

***

ANA

It has been at least half an hour and things are... different than what I expected it would be. People are still crowding around us, but they are no longer standing jam-packing the space, instead they are sitting down on the floor, looking at us with ease. Even some small children have joined their parents to watch me train with their leader.

Jackie is lying down on her side with a small plate of fruits as she is watching us, a big smile on her face. Once in a while, I can hear cheers even an encouraging shout when I do something properly. I, on the other hand, am covered with sweat with my lungs burning to try their best to take more, and more oxygen as I feel like I cannot get enough of it.

"Left! Right! Left! Right! Right! Right! Down!"

I swing my fists non-stop according to his instruction, taking steady steps forward to hit him although my legs are cramping from exhaustion. The floor is wet from my sweat and I can hear my own breath labor as I move. But the look in his cold eye keeps me going, his steady voice keeps me moving, even the people who are stretching their legs on the floor, clapping when I did fast movements correctly giving me extra strength to keep going.

"Stop." He suddenly says, and immediately, I drop on the floor. I look up to the ceiling with my chest rising and falling rapidly. My hair doesn't move the way it used to be, instead, they cling to the back of my neck uncomfortably. I open my eyes and see him squatting low next to me. Looking at me with no emotion is his perfectly sculpted face.

"Here you go!" Jackie's cheerful voice fills the silence and I turn my face away to see her crouching down with a bottle of water. "You did great, right Captain?" Jackie smiles widely at him.

He doesn't answer her, the man just stands up and walks away. "Next week, same time." He says loud enough for me to hear him and walks down the stairs without a glance back to the crowd he left.

"Not gonna lie," Jackie says watching her leader's back getting farther and farther away. "I thought that'd be the end of you," Then she smiles. "He has a soft spot for you, you know," She stands up and offers her arm for me to take. I take her offer with a frown.

I don't know where tomorrow will take me, I don't know what will fate bring to me, but I know one thing for sure; that the Captain doesn't have a 'soft spot', and even if he does, I would trade my dream of going back home to tell you, that it won't be me.

It can't be me.