Ever felt that rush of adrenaline when you are at the top of the roller coaster? Or when you are sliding down a huge water slide? Or when you are skydiving off a helicopter? That's exactly what I was feeling right now as I stood inside the ring, directly opposite to my opponent. The cheers of my huge fandom and the boo's of my very few haters enraging the fire already pumping through my veins.
I loved fighting. I loved the feeling it gave me. The feeling of wild, overflowing happiness, the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of freedom. I didn't fight for money, I had plenty already, I fought for the feeling of freedom. I was the champion, the unbeatable fighter of the streets of New York.
I had started to fight when I was fourteen, being trained by my uncle , I was pretty good.He was one of the best trainers so naturally I was trained to be the best. I had gotten under the name Silent Death, which was suggested by my uncle to keep my identity a secret.
And slowly but surely I had won my place as the unbeatable champion. Today not only was I the best street fighter but also one of the best bike racer. It was all due to my constant practice and hard work and my uncle's training.
The voice of the announcer broke me out of my trance and I got into position to fight. My opponent was a huge, build man who seemed to be in his mid twenties. He seemed tough and skilled. So I have some competition. I smirked. I knew I was going to win.I always did,no matter how good they were, I was the best.
The man who called himself Dylan sized me up. "You are going to fight me? You are a fucking teenager and a girl too." He sneered. I felt anger build inside me but I didn't show it. My uncle always taught me to never show my emotions in the ring or they might use it against me.
"Why you scared you are gonna lose to a teenage girl?" I taunted him. He scoffed. "You are just a little kid, don't go running to mommy if you break your nail."
I narrowed my eyes, rage burning inside me but I kept a cold expression. "Don't worry fucktard. Just don't shit yourself when I beat the crap out of you." I smirked. My smirk widened when I saw the anger in his eyes. Perfect.
"What happened? Cat got your tongue? I know you are one of those pathetic losers who insult their opponents so they can try and quit the match. But you are logical. I wouldn't want to fight myself either. Why not you just go and continue your miserable life without me sending you to the hospital?" I completed, satisfied as I saw the anger blazing in his eyes.
At that moment the bell rang, and he rushed towards me like a raging bull, no doubt wanting to knock me out in a single blow. But I was ready for it, it was all part of the plan.
I swiftly swerved to the right at the last moment, catching him by surprise. Using it to my advantage I threw a punch at his jaw. He stumbled backwards but regained control. He lunged at me again this time taking me with him as we crashed to the ground.
He immediately punched my side. He went for it again but I brought my knees to my chest and kicked out with both legs, smirking as I heard a satisfying crack. Dylan fell of me clutching his nose, big mistake.
I took this time to bounce to my feet and hurtle a solid punch in the gut making him bend over in pain. I kicked his shoulder. He stumbled backwards but punched me in the jaw. I clutched my jaw feeling dizzy.
He aimed for me again but I blocked it. Then he started throwing punch after punch hoping one would strike but I dodged and blocked all of them. During this he had let his guard down so I swiftly punched him in the gut again which was probably sore from the last time.
As he yelped and grabbed his stomach I knocked him clear of his feet. With a powerful right punch he got knocked out.
"And The Silent Death wins again." The announcer yelled into the microphone. I got to my feet glancing at the crowd that was cheering wildly for me. I grabbed my money and made my way through the stuffy bar, all the time keeping my hood and mask up. I couldn't risk revealing my identity.
This is what I live for. I think as I get on my bike that has my initials S.D on it.
I lived for the feeling of victory and appreciation. The feeling of being respected. Everyone respected me here. Nobody dared to mess with me.
I smiled as I revved up my engine and pulled down my hood. My long red hair tumbling down my shoulders. And I was off in the night, with the cold wind whipping my hair crazily. But oddly I loved it. This is what I live for. I think again.