The Silver Fighter | ✓

A Run In With The Devil's Personal Flying Monkey

"What do you want, Michaelson?" I asked bluntly, not bothering to sugarcoat my words because I truly didn't give a fuck. Some of my exasperation seeped out into my tone, but he didn't notice through his own idiocy and self-importance.

He had a sneer on his face like he smelt a fart and I felt like laughing at the ridiculous expression.

'As the saying goes, whoever smelt it, dealt it.'

His blue eyes were filled with hatred and his fiery red hair looked like it hadn't been washed in three weeks.

'Lovely.'

"I want you to get the hell out of my ring." He snarled, baring his teeth as if he was a lion or some shit.

'Time for a rabies shot, then.'

I sighed again. "For the last. God. Damn. Time." I bit out. "This isn't your ring. Please, let it go." I pleaded, begging for him to finally develop a brain. The lad needed some help.

He's been so obsessed with beating me that he hallucinates now. If I'm being honest, it's quite sad.

"It was! Before you showed up and ruined everything!" He roared angrily. "And I want it back." He growled, glaring at me.

"Okay. First off, you weren't even that good of a fighter to begin with." I pointed out and he glared harder. "And secondly, you don't own this place. So you have no authority to tell me to leave." I rolled my eyes.

'He's really starting to piss me off.'

"We'll see about that. Today's the day you lose and when I win, I want you out for good." He hissed angrily. I rolled my eyes at his insanity.

"You can try, but you'll never beat me. And that's simply a fact, Michaelson." I shrugged. "Just accept that and make both of our lives easier." I pleaded, but he glared even harder if that was possible.

"We'll see about that." He sneered and then stalked off, probably to go sulk.

I rolled my eyes again. "Sore loser." I muttered under my breath and looked back at Ray who wore a smirk on his face as he watched Michaelson's and my exchange.

"Told you." He said to me smugly while he crossed his arms over his chest. I shook my head in disappointment.

"He's fucking obsessive. I think the issue is that he hates the fact that he's been beaten by a girl. Repeatedly." I snorted. "If he ever found out that I was a teenager, he'd be even more pissed off because of how young I am." I noted with a smirk.

I'm a fifteen-year-old girl who has handed thirty-year-old men's asses to themselves without even breaking a sweat.

Imagine their humiliation if they found out. Fucking priceless.

"Damn straight." Ray said with a chuckle.

A few seconds later, I heard the crowd cheer again and the bell rang. The fight was over and people were going wild like they were at a Jonas Brothers concert. 

I looked and saw that the man had won while the woman was on the floor with a bloody nose and many bruises.

I must say, she was very lucky. Plenty of men would have taken that opportunity to do more damage. In the ring, almost anything goes.

Now, you may be asking why people like to fight. Well, I'll tell you.

You see, for most of us who aren't freaks and psychos, it's fun. The adrenaline pumping through your veins, your heart beating out of your chest, the pride you feel when you win...it's unlike anything you've ever experienced.