{1} Would you Like to see my ID?

949 57 4
                                    

{One year later}

"Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Morte!" The announcer calls out, earning a round of applause from the audience.

He raises my arm and I spit out some blood from the stupid tooth my opponent chipped. I glance at the knocked out body, nearly three times my size as I try to catch my breath. When the announcer finally lets my arm down, I step out of the ring and Finland comes up to me quickly, giving me a towel to wipe the blood. He places an arm around my shoulder to lead me away from the crowd.

"The chipped tooth could've been easily avoided." He comments over the shouting of the arena.

"Maybe so, but I wanted to let him get a punch in. The poor guy had no chance." I flash a bloody smile to Finland.

He shakes his head with a sigh.

"You don't always have to let them get a punch in." He says as we walk out of the noisy arena.

"You see, it boosts their confidence I find." I explain, "They get a punch and they get blinded by excitement and they start thinking they have skills they don't have. Their over confidence makes it easy to take them down." 

Finland looks and me in amazement and I continue wiping the blood from my face as we walk down the various hallways of this warehouse.

"That's- that's actually really smart." Finland comments.

"I know, that's why I do it. It's not just out of sympathy." I say, earning a look from Finland. "Okay maybe 90% tactic, 10% sympathy."

"Whatever." He brushes off my words as we get to the locker room. "Here's your cut."

He hands me a stack of cash and I smile at it. 

"How much today?" I ask, sitting on a bench.

"$10 000." He replies.

"Very nice." I nod in approval.

"I'm out of here, I have business." Finland says, glancing at his phone. "You can get home yourself right?"

"Yep." I reply.

"Okay, the next fight is in two days. See you then." With those words, Finland leaves the locker room and I'm left on my own, something I honestly don't mind.

I walk up to the mirror and take in my appearance. My brown hair is a mess and my head is covered in sweat. I have a nice bit of dried blood on my chin and the scar that goes through my eyebrow is quite prominent in this lighting.

I wipe the blood from my chin and rinse my mouth with the water from the sink. I turn around and go to my old duffle bag. I pull out some sweats that I decide to quickly change into for the ride home.

After I change and tuck my money away safely into my duffle, I throw it over my shoulder and make my way out of the warehouse.

"Good fight tonight Morte!" The janitor, Danny calls out to me. 

I look at him sweeping the viewing area and give him a smile.

"Thanks Dan! Have a good one."

AmrenWhere stories live. Discover now