Fight Night

Kev was getting ready to pack up for the night. This last match should last no longer than half an hour, which was actually longer than most other matches. The experienced fighters not only knew how to stay alive for longer, but also how to savour the moment and let the crowd enjoy the show.

Nero. His fights were always saved for the final hours of the night. One o'clock in the morning, and Nero fought three times a week most weeks. Always won. Obviously, else he'd be dead.

Kev didn't look up as he heard somebody clear their throat in front of him. Standing behind his desk, he was locking the money from the day away, ready to be collected by Lars, the proprietor of the arena, who, despite being filthy rich, was still looked down on by a lot of people. Zelos was one of them.

'Sorry, we can't let any more spectators in the arena for this final match of the night. Nero will be fighting this time next week, and also on Tuesday and Thursday.' Kev repeated his monologue to the man he still hadn't even looked at, the same way he did every week.

'I'm not interested in watching a match,' came the reply.

'Well, that's good, because I can't let you in.'

Kev finally looked up, into the dark black eyes of the mysterious man, who was not recognisable in the dark. But his eyes, dark as they were, pierced the night. They were intimidating.

Kev almost stuttered, but kept his cool. 'Is there anything else I can help you with?'

'Yeah, actually, there is.'

The desk flew across the room, hitting the wall opposite and shattering into little more than splinters. Kev backed up against the wall, still not recognising Port.

*

Wiping the blood off his hands and on to his jacket, Port made his way out of the arena, getting as far away as possible before the spectators leaving the arena would be able to implicate him or Zelos in the brutal murder of a Bloodbox gatekeeper.

A single fingerprint of blood - Kev's blood - was smeared across the white slip of paper that Port held in his hands. The curly handwriting indicated that the form had been filled out by a woman. A woman who - Zelos had informed him - was not allowed to just give up on the blood and walk away. She would pay.

Tearing the resignation form in two, Port let the breeze rip it from his hands. Kev was dead. Lilly was next.

The End

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