The telltale signs of his fucked-up mind were there: the twitching of the neck, the smug smirk on his mouth, the jumping of his muscles. His body needed to kill, needed to feel the rush that only comes with stopping someone’s heart. But this cage was my motherfucking domain, all I’d ever known. What this sadistic fuck, who probably killed women and kids by the boatload, didn’t know was I had killed bastards much more fucked up than him.
I killed because I had to. I had no other choice. I was already dead, no more than a number—stripped of morals, stripped of freedom, and stripped of life. I was an animal conditioned to inflict pain without remorse. And you couldn’t kill someone who had no soul.
The door to the cage slammed shut, trapping us inside, the bolt sliding into place. The red mist I used to defeat opponents infused my body. The monster I harbored deep inside was freed.
The Chechen Viper wrapped the chain around his fist, the triple spiked ball swinging in circles at the bottom.
He smiled at me, his teeth gleaming gold. I paced my side of the cage, waiting for the gun to fire so I could end this fucker’s life. A few seconds later, a member of the Bratva walked to the side of the cage. I didn’t lose focus on the Viper, my target. I never take my eyes off the walking dead.
The gun fired.
The crowd erupted, screaming at the top of their lungs. The Viper leapt forward, swinging his favorite chain above his head. As Viktor had predicted, the Viper showed a lack of skill as he hurried to get in the first blow. I ducked as the spiked ball traveled over my head. Using his raised arm to my advantage, I swung my right fist, piercing my blades deep into Viper’s kidney. Then with my left fist, I quickly pierced a lung. I kept walking forward, not looking behind. I watched the mouths of the crowd drop open and eyes widen at my speed. Then I heard the sweetest sound of all. The sick fucker I had to slaughter dropped to the floor; my blows had brought him to his knees.
Turning my head, bladed fists clenched by my sides, as expected, I saw my opponent on his knees, head bent, chain at his side. Leaping to stand in front of him, I jerked the chain from his hand, planted my foot on his chest, and kicked him until he fell on his back, blood pouring from his wounds as he gargled for breath. As his dulling eyes looked up at me, I swung his chain and ploughed the spiked end straight into his face, sending him to hell with his own weapon. His face was gone, no longer visible, not even to the devil.
As his skull crushed in, the spectators went wild and the victory gun sounded. Dropping the chain to the bloody ground, I released a victorious roar and paced around the ring, dragging my knuckledusters along the metal links, waiting for the door to open. When I was halfway around, something made me look up, some magnetic pull. I never looked up, never showed my eyes to anyone but the man I was about to kill. But this time, I couldn’t resist. High up in a box way above the crowd, Kisa’s face came into focus. Her palms were pressed against the protective glass. Her face was awash with relief, a small smile flickered on her lips, and happy tears shone in her blue eyes.
I could barely drag my eyes off her. But when the cage door opened, I stormed out, too much aggression still coursing through my body to stay still, too much hatred for the sick fucks in the crowd to accept their fake fucking adulation.
A pathway cleared as I stormed through the crowd. Like prey flees from a predator, instinct told them to move, to get far away from danger. Viktor dropped in step by my side. As I approached the mouth of the tunnel leading back to the waiting room, Durov stepped in my way, a pissed look on his face. His fight was next, once the cage had been washed down. Without stopping, I knocked him out of the way with my shoulder, and a laugh came out of his fucking mouth.
I kept walking, needing to burn off my excess aggression, when he taunted, “So you know, 818, I can still taste her dripping pussy in my mouth. I just fucked her hard, real hard.”
As if a leash had been jerked on a collar around my neck, I came to a dead stop. A burning fire coiled in my gut, a protective surge taking grip as I thought of Kisa. Inhaling deep, I tried to calm my anger, but it didn’t work. Nothing fucking worked. That woman was crashing through my defenses, breaking down walls I didn’t want to come down.
Viktor moved in front of me, out of Alik’s view, and advised, “Move. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”
I nodded my head, but I couldn’t stop my rage, when pain blinded me and a memory hit me hard…
*****
“Get the fuck off her, Durov,” the boy ordered.
Durov’s expression turned to stone.
“She’s mine. She belongs to me!”