Keep Your Eyes On Me

- 18 -

Elizabeth swung her arm, screaming as her fist made contact with the poor woman across from her. The cheers and jaunts rang through her ears as her opponent stumbled. She moved forward, swinging once again and causing the woman to fall to the ground. But there was no mercy. The American woman knew nothing but the pain in her muscles from her regular duties during the day and the pain in her fists from the games she was forced to play by night. The Russians seemed to enjoy their prisoners beating the living hell out of one another.

She couldn't deny that it wasn't fair. She was trained to fight. She boxed frequently to keep up her fitness and skill. And a lot of her opponents were women who had no clue what they were doing. But if she pulled her punches, there would be nothing for her but punishment. Besides, she was beginning to enjoy this. Her mind was numb and she was almost forgetful of who she was. This wasn't her. She knew mercy and love. Only preying on those who hurt others. But not anymore. Now, when she looked at reflective surfaces, she only saw those pale dead eyes looking back at her. A ghost of herself.

She breathed heavily as she watched her opponent get dragged out of the makeshift arena, feeling the sweat drip down her face. She took the water being shoved in her hands as guards began handing over money to the bets they failed and immediately making bets on who would win the next fight.

Elizabeth watched as a man stepped in front of her. She glanced over at the guard before looking at the shirtless man. He was taller than her - though that wasn't hard to do - and built. This was the first time they stuck a man in front of her. Guess her beating defenseless women wasn't entertaining enough for them.

The two opponents circled one another, eyes dark. Elizabeth scanned her opponent. He had prison tattoos, Russian in origin. He was well groomed. He wasn't a prisoner. Meaning he was well-fed and possibly had a full 8 hours of sleep. Unfair. But she couldn't help the excitement that bellowed through her.

It wasn't until the man lunged at her that the fight commenced, both getting solid hits in. His swings were brutal, causing her to lose balance and see stars. But it only made her excitement increase. She had an edge though. He seemed to be slightly pulling his punches. And every time he swung, there was a slight hesitation in his shoulder. He was injured. Stupid man. She used it to her advantage, dodging his swing and coming in from behind him. She swiped at his legs and climbed on top, repeatedly punching in his face before the man wasn't moving. She would most likely pay for this later. Punching out a guard tended to do such a thing. But he asked for it. Besides, based on the hoots and hollers, the rest of them enjoyed the show.

Wake up, fix planes, eat, fix planes some more, move cargo, eat, fight, sleep, repeat.

That was it and she had accepted it. It was her life. And the fighting let her pent-up rage come out. She couldn't help but laugh, relishing in the praise of her captures, loving the taste of her own blood seeping into her mouth from her nose. She raised her bloody fists high. She was ready for another opponent. What once was a form of punishment had quickly become the highlight of her days.

—-----

Elizabeth walked back and forth, hauling different building materials to where the Russians were rebuilding their exploded base. The mountain was a complex set of tunnels and chambers. Something she thought only happened in action movies. What were the current popular movies? The last time John had bored her with another attempted escape plan, he informed her it had been nine months of capture.

"Get out of the way, American," spat Anastasia, the ringleader of the prisoners. She was a muscular woman. And tall. She had to be six feet tall, 250 pounds. She made it her mission to strike fear in anybody who wasn't her and her small click of friends. And Elizabeth hated every moment of the woman. That was the second time today she had bumped into her, causing her to drop her things making her get in trouble yet again.