Zeth: Thrill of the Fight

A further evolved race than humans called Silverbloods populate the Earth in secret, a small few survivors still cling to life, hiding from the Government that wants to exterminate them. They need silver to survive, hence their name, and their senses are sharper and better than us mere humans. Will they find each other? Will they team up to put on their own crusade? Or will they Government kill them just like the killed the rest? Also I would like to mention that this story idea originated from author CassieK.        


          Slam! The fist crashed into Zeth's stomach, and he grunted in pain. The kid hit him again as the other held him in a full nelson. As the kid went in for a third punch he headbutted the kid behind him, and ducked out of the hold. The owner of the fist, now swing through the spot he had just vacated, proceeded to punch his own crony in the face. Zeth broke out of the hold as the guy stumbled back and proceeded to uppercut the one brute in the jaw. He then followed with a roundhouse that put that guy out of the fight. He turned and ducked just before a guy slammed him, and neatly tripped him.

          Two more kids came rushing at him full speed. He sidestepped and clothes lined the first, then leaned to the side and flipped the second over his back to send him crashing onto a table, collapsing it. He heard pounding steps behind and rolled out of the way before he was tackled. Unfortunately, he came up right next the brute and received a punch right to the mouth that sent him reeling. He spat out a glob of blood and stood. He looked around to see himself surrounded by five remaining fighters. Lovely odds aren't these? They all stood there immobile for a second glaring at each other. With lightning speed Zeth pounced on the first one grabbing his arm and swinging him around sending him careening into another kid. As they both fell down to the ground the other three charged. As the first one came he dodged and delivered at kick right to the kids crotch. He then blocked a punch, and responded with a left to the kids gut. As the kid hunched over, he elbowed the kid in the back of the neck sending him to the floor.
          Just as Zeth started to recover the last guy hit him in the face causing him to fly backwards, crashing down. As Zeth lay on the ground the kid reared his leg back to kick him. Zeth reached out, grabbing a chair, and swung it around, right in front of the kids foot. There was a loud crack as the kids foot connected with the chair, and the kid howled and leapt backwards, hopping around.  He got up from the floor and walked over to the kid, still jumping around single-footed. He grabbed a handful of the kid's hair, yanking his head forward, just as Zeth swung with his balled fist. A spurt of blood flew from the kids face as Zeth's fist connected, and sent the guy reeling backward and into the wall.                                     As the kids hit the floor he laughed and turned around just as the slap sent his head snapping back. He was turned around to be standing face to face with the dreaded Ms. Harley, also the matron of the orphanage. She had a tall, slender, intimidating form, almost like an angel of death, and was feared by all inhabitants of the orphan home. 

"What is the meaning of this?" she said surveying the room, her grip on Zeth's arm not loosened a bit. Any kid who hadn't left during the fight looked at the ground, nobody able to meet her gaze. She smirked as she looked around, like she expected this, which of course she probably did. By the sound her voice the kids who he'd been fighting with started to stir and get up.          

A kid with a bloody lip, pointing right at him, said, "It was him."

Regarding him again she asked, "Is this true?"

"No they attacked me!" he sputtered not believing what he was hearing.

"Oh it was him all right." another kid chimed in.

"Ya, he did it!" yet another said until all of the people he'd fought were talking at once, accusing him.

"Silence!" Ms. Harley's voice rang out, cutting of all the other voices. "There will be no yelling in this orphanage unless I am the one doing it, understand!" Every head in the room nodded obediently, nobody daring to speak. "Now as I understand it Zeth here assulted you all" her head nodding in the direction of all of his accusers. All of them with deviant smiles on their faces nodded. "Of course he did." Yep, she really hated him.

"What!? But I didn-" he protested.

"Quiet! Did I give you permission to speak?" she spat. Zeth just looked down, fist clenched, trying to control his fury. "As for you children" speaking to everyone but him in the room, "You shall prepare yourselves for bed." Then observing him said "And as for you, you will be punished." Zeth remained silent knowing better than to speak.
          She lead him through several corridors, and then halted in front of a large, medievil looking wood door. She pulled off a key chain from around her neck and unlocked the door with a large brass key. After this she threw him into the room, she said, "This will be your current residence for the night, I hope you will think about what you have done," and slammed the door behind her, locking it from the outside. Zeth sat there for a second having to process all that had just occurred for a second then stood up, infuriated and smashed his fist into the stone wall, tearing the knuckles. He felt around in his mouth with his tongue, and spat out a bloody tooth. He collapsed onto the floor and curled up into a ball without a blanket or anything to cover him, his head filled with the fight and Miss Harley. Ever since Zeth had grown up in this orphanage he had been resented by it's owner. She had always hated him for who he was. Different, strong, someone to challenge her power, and in Ms. Harley's Home for the Parentless she did not share power.
          He awoke the sound of the key in the lock, and the door swinging open. He was led by a tight-lipped Ms. Harley back to the dining hall where the rest of the kids were having breakfast. He passed the table of smirking kids he fought the night before. He returned their smiles, and said "I'm open anytime you fellows want to get your butts kicked again." Now that wiped the grins right off their faces. As he got his silverware, he snuck a few more silver spoons from the box and sat at a vacant table. He selected one of the spoons, and closed his eyes focusing. He felt himself drawing energy that flowed into his veins from the silver, and sighed in sweet relief. He opened his eyes and watched the spoon crumble into dust. He had always been able to do this with silver. It always rejuvenated him, replenishing all the energy he'd lost last night. The silver was essential to him. He knew he couldn't live without it. He'd tried, and ended up on the floor half dead from hunger and exhaustion, before he finally gave in again.
          As he ate his mind wandered to the events of last night. As he remembered he could feel his anger welling up again, but he forced it back down. He kept thinking though of his past in this orphanage. He'd been here for as long as he could remember, in the orphanage. He though of all he'd gone through here. Was this really going to be his life? Fighting, punishing, and fighting again, and for what? So he could be thrown out onto the street from whence he came once he got to old? He supposed that he always thought of the orphanage of his home more or less. But something was missing, he could feel it down deep inside. He'd always hoped that one day someone might adopt him, give him a real home. But it was all in vain. Nobody wanted him, his ragged appearance, broken nose, ever scowling face. The more he thought the more the ideas formed in his mind.  To hell with it he though, whatever part of him was missing wasn't here. It was out there, and out there was exactly where he planned to go. Tonight.
          The day seemed to last forever. Finally after a grueling period of work and cleaning every inch of the orphanage as punishment, it was lights out. He tipped toed to the door, and slowly pushed it open, cringing at the squeaking it gave. He stopped there for a moment, making sure no one had awoke, and continued on. He took a slight detour to the coat racks, and examined its contents. He lifted a sweater of a hook and pulled it over his head. He spied a worn leather jacket and pulled that on over his sweater, zipping it up. He slipped his collection of silver spoons and forks he stole while doing the dishes into the jacket pockets. So much for whoever's these are, looks like they wont be needing them much longer, he thought. No one ever left the orphanage anyways unless you got a new family, but if that happened, your old stuff would be replaced anyways. Finally he slipped on a pair of heavy work boots, lacing them up tight. 
           Once he was a dressed up, he crept into a corridor to find a spare room to escape from. The door was out of the question because Ms. Harley had a automatic alarm system installed that was active during night. He went door to door twisting the handle back and forth, hoping one would open. Finally, at the last door, he crossed his fingers and twisted. He was surprised to find that this one opened when he tried the knob. It looked like a storage room with boxes stacked along the walls, and dust covering everything He quietely closed the door behind him, and surveyed any possible escape routes. The only way of escape looked like the window, so he walked up to it. As he went to open it he found it was stuck shut. He cursed his luck and guessed there was only one other way to do this. Praying nobody would hear, he pulled down his coat sleeve so it covered his fist and punched the glass. It shattered with a resounding crash, and Zeth froze waiting for the door to fly open and the lights to come on. After what seemed an eternity, he was convinced no one was coming he carefully swung a leg up, avoiding any broken pieces of glass, and climbed out. He stood, breathing in the fresh and cool night air, his adrenaline pumping. Free at last!


The End

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