--Flashback--
Walking down the metal floor, bare feet slapping against it, I stumbled behind the supposed leader of this place. It was after a couple of minutes of walking, which seemed like hours for me since my leg was broken, that the floor switched from cold metal to cold tiles. Confused, all I could do was wait. And waiting I did.
Coming up on the right was a hallway with the same feel as the cells. The walls were made of hardened clay, as well as the ceiling. The only difference between the cells and the rooms in this halfway house was the doors. They were made out of wood, and had hinges made of the same metal like the previous hallway.
Opening the first one on the left, it showed that the door was not locked, or was unable to be locked. "This will be your room for now. You will be locked in here with daily rations until your wounds heal. And then the trails for your entrance into my gang. If you pass those trials, then you will be formally accepted into our gang, and you will learn how to fight, assassinate, make battle strategies, and much more. I hope you heal soon. Until then, you have my warmest welcome into the base of Hell's Guardians." He said with a smile.
"Oh, and by the way, My name is Mark. Mark Jones." Mark said offhandedly. Although it did not seem like much, having the names of the leader of a big gang, which I can only assume by the way the guard looked and by the pressure admitted by the leader, I can have some leverage in bartering if any occasion arises, which I highly doubt.
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It's been months. I have questioned my sanity. The food given to me was not much different from what I had to eat on the streets, so this was something I could tolerate. One thing that I could not tolerate is the room itself. Although I had a better bed and a cleaner toilet that had flushing functions, it was claustrophobic. For someone who is used to being able to go anywhere I want, this was a great change in environment.
My wounds have healed by the second month, but I was kept in here for another two. I began to think that they thought of me as someone disposable, like cannon fodder or some other bait. It was not until the last day of the fourth month that I finally heard multiple footsteps going down the hall, and not just the normal stomps.
Hearing a click, I got up from my bed and watched as the door swung open. Mark, still in the same shape as he was, looked me up and down, his face showing nothing but indifference. Waving his hand as a signal for me to come with him, I did as instructed, mostly just to get out of this cage.
Walking back down the dreaded hallway, we took a right instead of a left, leading out into a massive outside space, which I did not think was possible, as I was made to believe we were underground. Anyways, I wondered what I was doing here, but also why this looked like a coliseum, although a miniature one.
"This is what we call 'The Coliseum'. This is a place for training, fights, and competitions. However, this will be used for an initiation service for today." Mark said, familiarity filling his voice. Before I could ask what the initiation service was, I was pushed from behind, falling face-first into the arena. Rolling around to face Mark, I found him behind a set of steel bars.
"Go out into the middle, where the initiation will begin, and you will officially be a member of Hells Guardians," Mark said, arms behind his back. Standing up to look at the center, I found that there was nothing to look at.
"Whelp, this is fantastic. I am dehydrated, hungry, and malnourished. Whatever is up there, I might as well be doomed if I had to fight it. Wait, what am I saying? I got myself into this situation for being curious. If I die from this, then this will be on me, and my terms. Mark gave me a choice, and not going to the middle would label me a coward, which is something I despise." I said to myself quietly, as I have been doing for months.
Walking with a strut only a fashion model could pull off better than I had, I made it to the center, where there seemed to be one singular man standing there. Why was he standing there? Most likely to fight me, as would be an initiation to a gang. The reason I would think this is just the way the man is built!
Arms rippling with muscle like he was sculpted by an artist who did not know what proportions were, he looked like he could hug a tree and rip it out of the ground with ease. I guess it is time for me to show off my fighting prowess. Though I won't win, I will at least put up a good fight. Taking the initiative, I pushed off the ground with my right leg and did a spinning roundhouse kick straight to the gut of this giant.
Thinking he would budge even an inch, I was surprised how he did not even seem to shake with that kick to his stomach. Seeing my eyes widen, this bald monster clasped his hand over my leg and swung. Unable to keep my ground, I was lifted off the ground and flung a good couple of meters away.
Looking back up, I saw that he was almost right on top of me, sprinting at unimaginable speeds for someone his size. Rolling to the right, I barely managed to avoid a stomp on my left arm, which would have turned to paste as a crack in the ground formed as he put weight onto the foot he stomped down with.
Scrambling to my feet, I sprinted to the right, trying to get out of his line of sight. The only problem was that he was so big, that he could spin around faster than I could get out of his range of sight. Knowing it was useless, I stopped and made a right hook straight to the face. Face impassive, the massive man took it to his face with no flinch, but what he did not expect was the thumb I stuck out at the last second.
Taking a step back with a grunt, he held his eye for a few seconds before regaining his composure, eye bleeding. This allowed me to see him in his failed line of sight. Sprinting again to outrun his spin, I managed to get behind him and use a well-placed punch to his vertebrae, dislodging a disk.