Viktor Vektor x Reader

Forty-Eight

The air stabbed into your side like a thousand tiny knives. Every breath hurt more. That was not good, not good at all.

A single blow had hurt you so much. You weren't wobbly on your feet yet, but the stinging made it much more unpleasant than it had to be.

Clenching your teeth, you backed away to analyse the situation. Apart from the wound on his head, your opponent seemed to be fine. His footsteps made the ground shake as he approached you menacingly again.

He seemed to have learnt from his mistakes. This time he had raised his guard completely.

You wouldn't be able to attack him like that. You had to lure him out of his guard, but with the restricted movement the burning in your side caused, it made it much harder.

"Shit!", you gasped and jumped to the side, away from his fists that were hurtling towards you.

You managed to plant two blows to his back before he spun on the spot and stood right in front of you again. You barely managed to lean back far enough to avoid a direct blow to the face.

Your right fist shot up and directly against his elbow. Hit by the force, his arm shot upwards. A gap opened up in the cover.

You immediately seized the opportunity and leapt forward.

Two blows to the chest caused him to stumble. Your knuckles felt swollen.

There were already traces of blood on the white bandages, but you couldn't tell whether it was yours or your opponent's. Your fingers curled under the pressure that rested on your wrists. It felt as if your bones would shatter into a thousand pieces with the next blow.

Maybe that was actually the case. Viktor had warned that cyberware was more durable than human tissue, but nowhere near as flexible. It absorbed every contact without damping and that made it all the more susceptible to breakage.

Where there was tension, sparks would fly.

Curling your lips, you launched another attack. But your feet faltered. Something stirred in the corner of your eye. A shadow raced towards your face.

Petrified, you stood still on the spot. Your reflexes forgot to save you.

His left fist hit you with full force this time. It took you a moment to realise what had just happened. Skin and bone rubbed against each other. The iron taste of blood filled your mouth.

The next moment you realised you had a headache. This sickening, penetrating headache that poked its way from the top of your skull into your brain like the legs of tiny parasites.

Your head hit the ground of the ring, closely followed by the rest of your body. Blood splattered across the floor, staining the white with red.

The world was drowned before your eyes. Everything blurred. Even the sounds suddenly died.

Not a single cheer filled your ears, faces melted into a mass of colour. The light was blinding as you rolled onto your back to return to the situation.

Heavy breathing filled your head.

Was that your own breath?

Why did it stop like that?

And why did your body suddenly feel so numb?

Something warm oozed from between your lips as you managed to sit upright. Everything was spinning.

Irritated, you lifted a hand to feel your face. It was damp, covered in a thin layer of blood. Sluggishly, your head dropped lower while thick threads of blood and saliva dripped from your parted lips.

A tooth fell into your lap, broken and pitiful.

"Ha...", your eyes twisted into the back of your skull. "Ha... hahaha..."

Eyes as empty as the darkness itself, blood flowing from your lips, you gasped and groaned your way back to your feet.

Nausea stung your nose.

You cleared your throat and spat at his feet. A thick gulp of red mingled with sweat.

It was all so quiet. Quieter than death could ever have been.

"Shit..!", you gasped, your shoulders sagging at your sides with the effort. "That was a good punch, a damn good punch haha! But it's not enough. It will never be enough."

Irritated, he backed away. The way he looked at you reminded you of someone who was afraid of being bitten by a rabid dog.

"You-you shouldn't have got up again...", he stammered.

Sweat glistened on his forehead.

His body began to tremble.

"Oh?", the grin froze on your face.

You had never felt so powerful before. Reality and imagination mingled in your head. The line became more blurred with every step you took towards him.

Blood ran down your face, soaked your tank top and wet your neck. It was so warm that a gush of adrenaline shot through your veins.

Muscles clenched.

"A single blow won't stop me.", you replied with a red glare. "I have too much to lose for that!"

Without hesitation, you stormed towards him.

He didn't know what hit him, none of his muscles wanted to move. Paralysed by fear, or perhaps it was astonishment, he didn't move when your fist was aimed at his face.

The first contact was far from satisfactory. It was just reason enough for you to lunge again and strike.

The vibration of the force sizzled over your bones, up into your shoulders and into your head where it made your brain tingle.

Then, at last, his blood showed.

Like wine, it sprouted from his nose and covered his lips. His legs gave way and he fell back. The ropes caught his fall.

Like a wild animal you jumped on him, blow after blow, first the eyes, then the nose and then the sides of his head. More and more red soaked the bandages around your hands.

Adrenalin made every hair on your body stand on end. It hurt to breathe, but the pain made you want to keep hitting him.

He tried helplessly to push you off him, but didn't have the strength. Fingernails dug desperately into your shoulders. Fingers cramped.

All at once, noise flooded your ears again. The crowd screamed and shouted. The referee continued to let everyone in on the action.

A thin film of red had already gathered around your feet when you finally had to retreat to catch your breath.

Silence. Nothing but silence while your eyes drowned in blood.