♟️ Elodie
The taste of blood in my mouth is sharp, metallic and hot.
I spit to the side, barely missing the mat, and drag my arm across my lips.
The crowd is a living, screaming monster, echoing around me.
“Razor! Razor! Razor!”
They want her to end me right here and win.
My body aches like it’s been thrown under a train, and honestly? It might as well have been.
Another roar goes up when she lunges, her fist aimed straight for my face. I move, trying to dodge but I'm too slow and her knuckles graze my cheekbone, a white-hot flash of pain streaking across my vision.
Keep standing, Elodie. You don't get to fall.
My feet slide back against the slick mat, sweat making it hard to find traction.
This is my first time in the Red Pit, and they threw me to the wolves. Or more like, to Razor — undefeated in six matches.
The referee's shadow crosses my vision.
I blink up.
“Get up,” I whisper to myself, but I can't seem to find the strength I need.
The ref drops to one knee, fingers up, already counting. “One…”
No, no, no. Not like this.
“Two…”
Her punch had been brutal, and I can still feel it vibrating through my bones.
“Three…”
Vincent’s voice slices through the fog of pain.
****************
“You’ll fight.” His voice is cold
Vincent Kane is my personal demon in a pressed suit. He makes decisions, calmly leaning against his desk like he owns the world.
Which, in my case, he kinda does.
“I don’t fight in rings like that,” I shoot back, arms folded tight, trying not to let him see my hands shaking.
Vincent’s smirks slow. “You do now.”
He reaches into the drawer, pulls out a slip of paper, and tosses it on the desk — a breakdown of my debt. Interest eating it alive.
“I'm paying that back,” I say
“Not fast enough.”
“Come on, one fight won't guarantee total payback,” I argue
He smiles. “The Red Pit is different from the other places.”
“How?”
“Win, and you’ll clear a good chunk. Maybe finally breathe a little, hmm?”
I swallow hard, glancing at the numbers. Breathing is a luxury I haven’t known in years.
“I can’t. You said it yourself, I could die in there.”
“Then you better not die,” he says in warning.
“Vincent—”
“You will fight.” His smile widens, cruel and lazy. “Or do you want me knocking on your door instead? Maybe have a nice chat with that sweet little boy of yours?”
My stomach turns. “You stay away from him.”
Vincent laughs, standing straight and smoothing down his tie. “Then you fight when I fucking say so.”
****************
“Four…”
The flash of his grin burns behind my eyes. Jamie’s face flashes right after.
No. Not tonight.
I roll to my knees, ignoring the sharp stab through my side. My fingers curl against the mat, nails scraping as I push up.
The crowd gasps, and I hear Razor's snort of disbelief.
“Five…”
I stand.
“Six…”
I roll my shoulder back, cracking my neck, and lift my chin. “Let's end this.”
The ref hesitates, looking at me, then steps back.
“Fight!”
Razor comes at me before I can settle my feet.
Her fist cuts toward my ribs. I twist away, but not fast enough. Her knuckles slam into my forearm instead, the impact rattling all the way up to my shoulder.
Pain shoots through my arm.
“Shit!” I suck in a breath.
She's fast for someone her size.
I step back, putting space between us.
Razor grins. “You should've stayed down, sweetheart.”
“Yeah?” I wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth. “Make me.”
She charges again.
This time, I don't wait for her to get close.
I jab.
Once.
Twice.
She knocks the first punch aside and ducks the second, forcing me to pivot as she swings for my jaw.
I lean back. Her fist whistles past my nose. Too close.
I plant my foot and drive my fist into her ribs. Once and fucking hard.
She grunts and folds just enough for me to see my opening.
I step in. My hook catches her jaw.
Her head snaps sideways.
Yes.
I go after her before she can recover, forcing her backward across the mat.
She throws a wild punch.
I duck beneath it and drive my shoulder into her chest, knocking her off balance.
For half a second, I have her. Then her elbow slams into my side.
My breath leaves me.
Pain explodes beneath my ribs and my knees nearly buckle.
Razor shoves me away.
I stumble backward.
She doesn't give me time to recover. Her foot comes swinging toward my knee.
I jerk my leg back just before it connects.
The crowd disappears. The noise along with it. For a few seconds, there is only her.
Her weight. Her breathing. And her favored left side.
She throws another right hook.
I move before it lands, slipping underneath her arm and stepping around her, putting myself behind her shoulder.
Her balance shifts forward.
I drive my elbow into the side of her throat.
Razor chokes, hands flying to her neck.
I step around to face her again and slam my fist into her stomach.
She doubles over, legs wobbling.
“Come on,” I breathe. “Take a damn nap.”
“End this, Elodie!” Vincent screams from the side.
I don't need telling twice.
Razor swings blindly.
I duck, and plant both feet and drive an uppercut beneath her chin.
Her head snaps back, eyes wide. Then her entire body goes limp.
She crashes onto the mat.
For one second, the Red Pit is silent.
Then the crowd explodes.
“Widow! Widow! Widow!”
The ref grabs my wrist, raising my arm. “Winner! The Widow!”
My chest heaves as I suck in shaky breaths. My skin is slick with sweat and blood.
From the corner, I see Vincent, smirking.
“Come on,” he waves me over
I step out of the ring on shaky legs, trying to keep myself up.
“Well, well, look at you,” he says smoothly, holding up a small cloth bag. “Turns out you’ve got a little fight in you after all.”
“How'd I do?” I ask
He grins, opening the bag to show me the bills inside it. “Made this much in one night. Not bad, right?”
My eyes grow wide at the sight of all that cash.
I'm a damn good fighter and I know it but I never earn this much on a single night. Judging from the swell of it, there's enough in there to cover two weeks of my debt installment.
“That's all ours?” I ask
“I told you this place was good,” he says, dangling my winnings like bait, but when I reach for it, he steps back.
My eyes snap up to him. “What?”
“Not so fast,” he says and pulls out a handful of small bills, pressing them into my hand. “That’s for you. Get yourself patched up.”
I blink, staring at the bills. It's barely anything. Not even enough for rent.
“Wait… that’s it?” My voice cracks, throat dry.
Vincent tilts his head, smirk widening. “Did you think you’d be walking out of here with the whole pot? Cute.”
“That's what we always do.”
“Well, things are changing now. If I keep letting you give me my cut then we'll be dancing around like this for a lifetime,” he says
I swallow, my fingers trembling around the money. “Vincent, please. I need more than this. Just… a little more.”
He leans in close, breath hot and sharp like whiskey. “Oh, sweetheart. You want more?” His smile hardens. “Then earn it.”
“I just did.”
“There’s always another match. Hell, they like you now, Widow. You could be the next little star of the Red Pit.”
I flinch. “I just… I have other needs and bills to pay. Please.”
“You also need to pay me back.”
“And I will.”
“Then be obedient and bleed for me.” He taps the bag of money. “We’re marking this place for a while.”
I clench my jaw so tight it hurts. “This isn't fair.”
Vincent chuckles as he steps past me. “Debt’s a hungry beast, Elodie. This is just an appetizer.”
“When’s the next match?” I ask with resignation
“I'll call you. See you soon, Widow.” Vincent saunters away, counting the rest of my money.
I’m left standing there, the weight of those pathetic bills in my hand, exhaling slowly and fighting the sting in my eyes.
By the time I reach the changing rooms, I can’t hold myself up anymore.
I slide down against a locker, my body sagging and hitting the cool steel with a dull thud. Every bruise and cut burns.
Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away.
I broke my back out there and all I get is a few bills that's not enough to cover anything.
It sucks to be under someone else's control, so much that I wish I could rip myself apart and disappear.
I can't do that though.
“I need to go home,” I whisper, closing my eyes.
