Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!" Intermingle voices of jeering men and women, most of whom were smoking and decanting a labelless can drinks around a cageless arena.
A rock of a man stood in the arena jabbing his feet, shadow boxing, all fired up ready to break bones, my bones.
He looked savage. A brute no doubt. I wonder whether I will be a match for this one. Squeamishly, I approached the arena, preparing myself for the inevitable.
"blood choke a man called Nka. broom trip him over." I cursed within me.
I did have two different kinds of fighting lessons in my whole life.
one is the dirty street fights, where the ultimate objective was to hurt the other guy more he did hurt you, incapacitating and crashing his sprit.
The other kind was one I learnt when I took some few karate lessons from a black belt master with three stars, whatever that means.
I was never able to cope though; it was so organized and artistic, I found myself out of rhythm whenever a trained.
The master wanted you to get every damn punch right, but mans physique is not as perfect, is it?.
There is something about street fight I do remember so well. It is real, hard knuckles connect with your face fixing you right in the zone.
Your mental faculties operate on a different wave of vibration. You feel threaten and the adrenaline shoot into the blood to supply you with energy.
That is what was happening to me now as I stared at my opponent.
Our height is almost the same, but he is muscular and trimmer. He seems to have been prepared for this all his life. He was so eager to get the fight on.
The ref stepped into the middle to initiate the fight. "there is only one rule. Whatever happens, don't stepped out of the arena."
'what is wrong with this people and one rules'.
I was glad to see him though. At least, its not a fight to the death. That was my first mistake, one I will later rectify, for every fight is a fight to the death.
wherever Nka is, he is probably watching this fight…. I can't think about anything else except what lays before me.
the thought of Nka gave me the fury I needed. I clinch my fist and meet my foe in the middle of the ring.
A ferocious punch hissed pass my jaw, the next one landed on my breastbone like a sledge hammer.
Things aren't looking good. The man was not skilled, but he was quick and hasty with lethal punches. the problem lies in his nut-cracking knuckles.
Thrice, I nearly trip him off on to the ground with a jolt. However, nearly had no room in this kind of fight.
None of my punches made an impact on him, he wouldn't even dodge, but kept matching on to me like a zombie, caging me to the outline of the arena.
A punch caught me right on the jaw and my feet buckled. Mr. hasty guy wasted no time.
He followed up with a kick to my head and I went down.
The voices were jeering and hooting all at the same time.
The fight was over. the guy won because I couldn't even stand up to continued. If this is a level one fighter, I wonder whether I will last a minute in level two.
...…
"hello spooky, how are do you feel?".
"woozy and aching." The same man who came to my cell earlier to initiate me into the arena smiled and added, "you will pull through,"
"I will give you a drip and some pain killers. Its okay to lose your first fight, but don't let it be a routine. Your very life depends on winning."
"where is this place?". "you already know all that, and I belief you know who put you here".
"is he watching?". "no, he is nowhere around here." "chances are you wouldn't last another whole year in this place."
"what do you mean?". "okay, the more you climbed the levels the more you will meet more skillful fighters, and from the look of things you have no training."
"are you a trainer?". "nope, I am a fake physician who do this just to survive and pull through in this awful place."
"how long have you been here?". "four years…". "what brought you here?". "I went against them, just like you. we are in a bottom of a moving vessel. Perhaps, they are up there watching and betting on this fights while we kill each other."
"what happens if you chose not to fight?".
"you simply disappear in the middle of the night, they are probably listening to this conversation, but I don't think they really care."
"they can gas us out, and bring in a whole different badge."
He said and asked, "how did you get here?".
"it's a long story…". "I think we all had long stories but it boils down to one thing, and that is we all went against them one way or the other."
"Lycan heights right?". "yeah, that's the name, they recruit from here, especially those who show perseverance on the last level. level five."
that will make sense. this way they will build an army of Marty's. there is not an end to the cunning of this python.
"how many fights do I need to get to level two?". "out of five fights you need only three wins."
"on the second level, I will probably need four wins out of six fights." "you are catching on quick, spooky."
"who is the boss here?" "I am in charge".
"you kept me in the cell for a whole year, why?"
"that is a basic rule in this place."
"including the predetermine starvation?".
"all of that… to break you."
"if you are in charge, it means you are working for them, right?".
"it's better than to die…. I am grateful he didn't shoot me"
"who is that?". "Nka…". "how often do you get in touch with him if you are working for him,"
"his call came every four months, when he is recruiting. All these boys and girls want to claim their spot before the next recruitment."
"how does one man run a place like this?".
"oh, we are a whole bunch, some of them running the labs, some of us running the cells. I happen to be one of them running yours."
"what is going on the labs?".
"okay, you dont expect me to answer every damn question, do you?"
"Actually, I do." the man gave me a penetrating stare.
"watch the way you speak around here, don't abuse your little liberty."
"liberty". I couldn't help but scoffed. " you call this liberty? locked in here pretending to be a doctor without the sun to smile at you? not even close, my men."
the man stared at my dubious face, with a frown as though suffering from dysentery....
I was expecting him to lush out or something.
his expression gradually softens then he laughed for the first time.
"you are screwed in here my friend. with that vibrating tongue... be ready for the trouble that comes with it"
So this is what it's all about? the man is punishing me, no he is manipulating and caging me. he wants me to crawl to him for my freedom. He wants to emphasis on the said 'graces he bestowed upon me….'. should I stick with my ego and rot in here, or go down on my knees and plead for mercy?
'phlegm choke Nka in his sleep.' I hissed again in my throat.
"they brought you in with three others, a lady and a man. They were release today just like you, here is your cell key. You have the privilege of mingling with inmates from level one and two.
The more you upgrade, the lesser the boundaries to the top.
If you try anything Spooky, believe me you will be spooked in solitary confinement of the worst kind, nothing as fancy as you cell.
The hunger strikes are part of the culture, being out here doesn't mean it wouldn't happen."
"the man and woman what do they look like?". "don't worry, you are all in the same level, its only a matter of time before you meet them."
"what is the end goal with all this?".
"reach the top and you shall find out."
"on the average how long will it take for me to reach the top." "you are talking about winning all your fights? That will take like 2 years. That's if you win every fight. and you can't win every fight. but there are star fights…"
"what if I can't accomplish that in two years." "then you become a punching bag for the other fighters until you give up and go work in the lab plantations."
"that is so absurd….".
"not if you life hangs on the line, nope".
"lab plataintions?". "yeah, herbal farms, mushrooms…. some people work there their whole lives till they kissed their ass good bye."
Clearly Nka, used the vessel's to farm the herbs and mushrooms to manifucture drugs, and organizing fighting tournaments, recruiting out of the best at the top. Who is this son of a missile?
"why are you telling me all this things?" I asked and for the second time the man laughed a cynical laugh and said,
"why do you want to know this things?".