A dirty fan spun sluggishly, barely circulating the stagnant air in the room. Jekt could feel the fever burning inside his hand, the misfiring weapon may have destroyed his opponent but it left seared metal and brackish bone shards embedded in his own hand. It wasn't the first time he'd left the box seriously injured.
"You have tot stop doing this to yourself Jekt, I can't keep patching you up like this." Phillip worked with some beakers, mixing chemical compounds and watching his small portable lab screen with intent. "I know what you are but eventually it won't be enough." between the silence and stagnant hot air it felt like an interrogation chamber. "Also it's time to move out, this hole is ridiculous. Your last match made you more than I make in a year and yet you stay in this filth hole." Only silence, Jekt remained motionless while Phillip's made the chemical compounds needed for a quick recovery. "Why do you do it? After killing them all you don't need this."
"There's nothing else Doc. I thought revenge would save me. I thought vengeance would free me from my fate but it can't." sighing heavily his chest wheezed with a cruel and venomous creak. "I was made to kill Doc, designed and manufactured to take life. " Jekt arched his back, pain wracked his body as Phill poured the vulgar green liquid into his open hand wound. Purple steam drifted lazily from the hissing wound.
"Your chest next Jekt." Phillip motioned towards some straps. "You need me to ..."
"No." jekt interrupted him, his face white made him look like a ghost. "We've been through this before." Again his back arched his hands now clenching the bed side' his wound still hissing and smoking slightly. An agonized animal growl left Jekt's lips and as Phillip turned Jekt's body went into spasmodic convulsions.
"Sometimes I wish you'd killed me with the rest of them. I can't watch you like this." Sighing the doctor began to pack his equipment away, eying the monitor occasionally watching the rhythmic rise and fall of the indicators. "At the very least join the professional league, these underground matches are brutal. I saw your opponent, they didn't even give him painkillers. " Finally Phillip closed the monitor lid and slid it into his single metal case. "In the league you'll be treated with respect. You'll find sponsors, women, a life. If you must seek death then seek it with style, I didn't save you just so you could spend your days living in a shanty and your night's killing street thugs in a metal box."
"You didn't save me brother.." Still thrashing in agony Jekt spat the words, blood and spittle flying from his lips. His eye's began to roll. "Nobody... can save ..." His convulsing stopped and Jekt fell into a deep sleep.
"I fear you speak the truth. I will miss you brother." phillip dropped a card on the filthy table. It landed on a pile of Adult Magazine's. It's bright white card seeming out of place in the hovel, a brilliant square of white in a sea of brown and black. CTK Inc. Official Facilitator of Bloodbox services.