AllFreeNovel
Share Us
JALIK
“The one to watch all the way to the end is Jalik,” said the commentator from the box. “He’s got that warrior mentality that doesn’t let up until the final bell.”
My Nazok opponent locked eyes with me in a split-second halt. His gray skin poured sweat from his brow into his deadly teeth, which seethed in anger at the jab that I just spent across his face.
I marked his left eye as swollen and raw from the endless jabs my right hook landed. In a moment of decision paralysis, he paused just a second too long.
“Oh, that right hand from Jalik, right to the face again. Denzin has to be feeling it now!” The crowd roared in approval, and not a moment too soon as I dodged a hit to my breadbox.
The maneuver took me back a step too far, and Denzin stepped in with a jab to my back.
“That’s Jalik temporarily on the ropes.”
“Denzin’s been holding his own in this fight. He isn’t done yet, Bovy.”
The Nazok twisted to my right side, trying to distract me with his footwork. Too bad for him, he met me on my good side.
I landed two shots across his middle, knocking him down to the ground. The ref put his hand across my chest to stop me from finishing him there.
I looked up, and through the sea of faces, I spotted Ryrik, Black Star’s head of entertainment.
“Take your time!” he commanded from his seat near the commentator box.
The bell dinged, ending round eleven. We had a mere minute to regain our senses before the final round. Ryrik shot out of his seat and came to my side while Sakkar, my friend and close coworker, dabbed the sweat from my brow.
“The people want a show, Jalik,” he said in his sly, opportunistic way. Breath from my lungs burned hot as Sakkar fed water to my mouth.
“A show?” I wheezed from my stool. “No problem.”
“Finish him slow,” came the voice of the owner of Black Star, Draven. I was tired. Dead tired. But hell, this was what I lived for.
“You got it, boss.”
The dinging of the bell called us back into action, with the ref hot between us.
With only three minutes left in the final round, I could see sweat clouding Denzin’s eyes. A jab to his right jaw sent him back, eyes rolling into his head towards the rope.
I bobbed in place, watching him regain his senses. He was slowing down, and I was just getting started. Every solid inch was laced with sweat over my gray skin, making my muscles gleam. My dark gray tracery lined the sides of my arms, flexing with me while my opponent cooled his heels.
“Nice recovery from Denzin. But the fight’s wearing him down. See how he breaks form, thrashing his weight into every punch.”
The spectators around the ring swallowed their words to almost nothing. Somewhere in the haze, I could just make out their remarks apart from the din.
Denzin squared up to me, throwing his right hook toward my ear. But I had my elbows high, protecting my face. The drawback from Denzin’s right arm gave me just enough time to line up my next shot.
“Oh!” The sea of voices shouted as my left hook found his right ear, sending him to the floor.
“The thing about Jalik,” the commentator buzzed. “He’s got one of the most explosive punches in the game. It’s just a powerhouse of force you don’t want to find yourself in front of.”
“And the heat he packs into his build.”
“Yes, Jalik is a hell of a lot stockier than his competitor, but look how he moves in the ring. He keeps himself tight.”
Denzin squared up to me again, the final seconds on the clock ticking like mad, the crowd losing their minds in the seats below. That final jab across my brow sent fury through me. I stepped into my next punch. One, two, cross to the left side.
“Argh!” I heard him grunt. That left side had taken a hell of a beating all night. I made sure of it.
I saw the rage gutting him to the quick. He threw his next punch wildly, his whole body heaving into the lunge. But he was no match for me. Not after eleven rounds to that left side.
