Fight For Your Life

            Wes hated his life. He’s been feeling down in the dumps, and discovered as of late that he’s been getting sick. So far, no one is able to figure out what ails him.

            Depression hit him hard; he would go to a bar each night to drink his cares away. While he just sits there looking like a sorry ass, there’s always one guy there who teases him.

            “It’s all in your brain dude,” the strange man would say as he sat there next to him. “You are just too weak to do anything about it. You’re so pathetic, you can’t even put up a decent fight. All of your loved ones are just about to give up on you. I know what I would do if I were you.”

            After quickly downing a shot, the stranger just left Wes to his thoughts as he winked and walked away.

            One night as Wes was walking the short distance to the subway from the bar, he heard shouts and hollers coming from off a ways. Thinking that it was some kind of fight, he immediately ran to find out where the noise was coming from.

            Growing up, all Wes did was fight. It was something that he did to relieve the stress that built up inside of him all the time. Fighting was the only way he knew how to release all of his pent up anger, shaping out the rest of his life.

            He fought so much, that everyone in his neighborhood began to grow afraid of him. He then went on fighting on the streets, where he earned street cred and made his way into the boxing business. Just when he was on the fast track to fame, he took one hard hit to the head which ended his career.

            The hit had so much force behind it that it caused a clot to form. After the surgery to remove the clot, he was never allowed to fight again in case he was injured again.

            But at that moment when Wes heard all the shouting, he didn’t care about his past and if he got hurt. Adrenaline started rushing through his veins at just the thought of being near fighting, since his wife never let him watch fights anymore. She thought that it would bring back old memories and make him want to fight again. She was definitely right about that.

            Wes’s heartbeat was now beating so loud that he could hear it clearly as the shouting grew closer. He slowly clenched and unclenched his fists, anticipating the scene that he was sure that he would stumble upon.

            He peeked out from behind the corner of a building, making sure that it was safe to venture further and not having to worry about being caught. While glancing around, he caught site of a big burly man standing guard over what seemed to be a door.

            Intrigued, he moved closer to get a closer look at this place. It appeared to be a regular run down warehouse, but who knows what could be inside.

            Wes froze in his tracks when he saw another guy approaching the burly man. His jaw dropped in shock when he realized that it was that same guy who would bug him every night while he was at the bar.

            With his jaw set, he quickly strode over to where he just saw the man go in, determined to give him a piece of his mind.

            “Whoa there little man,” the guard laughed as he held up a hand to stop Wes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

            “Don’t worry Stan, he’s with me,” said the guy from the bar as he placed a hand on Stan’s shoulder.

            Stan softened a bit from the guy’s words as he eyed Wes warily while stepping aside to let him through. Cautiously, Wes followed the guy from the bar into the old warehouse.

            “So, what is this place?” Wes asked while glancing at his surroundings.

            The walls were old and worn, looking as if at any moment they would crumble into a pile of rubble. Puddles covered the ground from he guessed a leak in the roof from when it rained the day before.

            “You’ll see,” the guy said with a wink before continuing on.

            After walking down the short hallway, the entered a room with a low hung ceiling. They were immediately hit with the stench of blood and sweat mixed together. The walls were covered in splatters of dried up blood mixed with some splotches of blood that appeared to be fresh.

            In one corner of the room were a bunch of guys huddling around an area, shouting and cussing at whoever was in the small space they left. As they walked closer to the crowd, sounds could be heard as if they were watching some guy beating on a punching bag. But by the sound of “ohs” as something happened, you knew that wasn’t the case.

            Suddenly, a sickening crack was heard as the room went silent, except for the sound of a single person breathing heavily. Wes walked into the crowd and towards the middle, where he saw a young man splayed out, blooding seeping out the back of his head.

            Two very muscular men took and dragged the body away to an adjoining room while another man stood in the middle of the circle, a long scar running down his face on the right side.

            “It is very sad when casualties happen,” he began in a somber tone, “but that is life, not everyone can survive the cruelty. Let’s take a moment of silence for our lost comrade.”

            Everyone around Wes bowed their heads, indeed having a moment of silence for the mad who had just lost the fight for his life. Wes bowed his head too, to be respectful even though he didn’t know anyone there.

            “Alright, who’s next?” said the man as his eyes scanned the crowd. “It looks like we have a new member, and all new members must fight,” he said, his eyes resting on Wes.

            “B-but I’m not a member. I just came to check it out,” Wes stuttered out.

            “It doesn’t matter. You’re here, you fight,” said the man as he pulled Wes into the center of the crowd. “I’m Zeus, and I run this joint. So, who wants to face off against our new member?” Zeus asked the men standing around.

            “I do,” said a voice. From the crowd, the guy from the bar walked into the center next to stand next to Wes. “I’m Brian Rumot,” he said while holding out his hand.

            “Nice to finally be introduced Brian. I’m Wes Turner,” Wes said as he shook his hand.

            “Ready?” Brian asked as he removed his jacket and shirt.

            “I’m ready when you are,” Wes replied as he did the same.

            Immediately Brian ran at Wes while clenching his fist and throwing it at him, trying to hit him in the jaw, but Wes quickly ducked and turned around and punched Brian in the back.

            “Just a warning, I used to be a fighter when I was younger,” Wes smirked.

            “I know,” Brian smiled as he rubbed his back. “In fact, I know every single thing about you Wesley.”

            “You know nothing about me bastard,” Wes said through gritted teeth. Blinded by fury, he clenched his fist and went straight at Brian, but Brian ducked and Wes’s hand connected with a nearby pillar.

            Wes shook his hand to get rid of the stinging pain as blood started to ooze out of his knuckles from the force of impact his hand had with the wall.

            “Aw, did Wes hurt his hand?” Brian taunted, standing there with his arms crossed.

            “Nothing that I’m not used to,” Wes smirked as he charged at Brian.

            Wes grabbed out and grappled Brian, forcing him into a headlock.

            “This fight is pointless,” Brian gasped out. “You’re not going to win.”

            “Oh yeah? Says who?” Wes snapped, squeezing him tighter.

            “Me,” Brian said as he suddenly broke out of Wes’s grip.

            Brian turned around quickly and his fist connected square with Wes’s jaw while his other fist hit him in the gut, sending him backwards.

            “You pack a nice punch,” Wes said as he spit out the blood that was in his mouth while getting back up on his feet.

            “You haven’t seen anything yet,” Brian smirked while cracking his knuckles.

            In a flash, they were at each other again, fists flying furiously. Some of the punches thrown missed their target, but others hit head on. Wes’s fist connected with Brian’s nose, resulting in a loud crack as blood came spewing out of his broken nose.

            “You’re gonna really wish that you hadn’t done that,” Brian laughed while tipping his head back to stop some of the blood flow.

            “Are you gonna make me?” Wes asked panting, slightly out of breath.

            “Precisely,” Brian snarled as he charged at Wes.

            Brian’s fists were moving so fast, Wes could hardly defend himself against Brian’s attacks. One connected with his stomach, sending him backwards into a nearby pillar.

            Wes didn’t even have time to move or defend himself as Brian came at him again, pounding his head into the concrete wall without mercy. With one final punch, there was a sickening crack as Wes’ skull hit the pillar forcefully, followed by a searing pain.

            “I told you that you wouldn’t win this fight,” Brian smirked as Wes slumped down against the wall, his body going numb as darkness consumed him.

            Julie turner sat in the cold room, clutching onto her husband’s cold lifeless hands. It was less than 10 minutes ago when Wes lost his fight against the brain tumor.

            “It was looking so terrible for you,” she said softly, light tears beginning to cascade down her face. “It was almost as if you weren’t even trying, didn’t have the will to live. So, I was amazed when the doctors told me that you were fighting back.”

            A brief smile flickered upon her face before settling back to a frown. “I always knew that you had one more fight left in you. After all, you were a fighter. I just wish that this was one fight that you would have won.”

            Julie placed a kiss on his colds hands before letting the cold hand drop back to the bed, ready to take on a fight of her own; the world.

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