"The Underground Fighter and His Kitten"
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Sasha "Kayo" Sokolov is a Russian fighter who was sent to America at a young age. One day, he met a young girl by the name of Everleigh Wilson, who taught him how to speak English, and helped him with his s...
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Everyone was shouting and cheering. With every blow to the boy's face, the cheering only continued to grow. I kept punching and punching him until his face began to turn red with blood. Even his blonde hair was now stained with the color red. No longer could I hear the shouts and cheers, all I could hear was the sound of my fist colliding with his face over and over again. It was my mission to make him unrecognizable.
While the crowd liked blood, Mr. Hastings loved it. If I wanted my brothers to stay, I had to beat out every person I went up against—I had to win. Mr. Hastings always told me that the only way I could ever win was if my opponent was dead.
It was the only reason I continued to beat the boy as anger raged deep in my soul at the thought of having my brothers taken from me just when I got them. They couldn't go back to that hell. At least while they were with me, I could protect them from ever having to fight for their lives just like me.
Once I was sure he was done for, I stood up with my fist in the air as his blood was painted on almost every part of my body. Immediately, everyone roared in a cheer. Well, almost everyone... the people that bet against me boo'd and yelled about it not being a fair fight. Mr. Hastings always told me to ignore those people.
The light was dim and it was hard to make out any faces. The only face I could see was Mr. Hastings' as he gave me a curt nod. A few men come over me to and guided me off the ring just as many rushed to the boy's side. I immediately walked past them and over to the restroom so I could clean myself up.
Once I pushed open the beaten door, I closed and locked it behind me. I quickly snatched my stupid gloves off before throwing them down on the floor, and I gripped the sink so hard my bloody knuckles began to turn white. I had to face myself in the mirror, taking in the murderous haze in my eyes.
Turning on the faucet, I washed my hands, watching as the once clear water was now tainted with the deepest shade of red. I continued to rinse my hands with the cold water, staring at myself in the mirror. I was unrecognizable. The person looking back at me was nothing but a monster.
I wondered what Everleigh would think if she saw me now. I wondered what my baby brother would say if saw what I had just done. Every person I fought weighed down on soul, sinking my heart until it slammed on the floor... broken and shattered. The only thing keeping me afloat was my family and Everleigh.
A tear fell from my eyes before I could stop it. Soon, more tears began to fall until I was full out crying. I had to put my hand over my mouth to cover up any sobs.
All the punches, scratches, beatings in the world hurt less than the loss of myself. I'd die a painful death before ever looking in the mirror and seeing soulless eyes looking back again. I'd do anything to bring back the lives of those who died from my fists. I would give myself to never know what it's like to be a scared little boy standing in front of a mirror, holding back tears, and feeling like the devil.
