The awakening, p.35
The Awakening, page 35
part #1 of Eve Series
what I meant by that, Professor.”
***
The day moved at a glacial pace, as if Eve were watching it unfold in slow
motion. Her mind was elsewhere, far from her studies, and even farther from
the curious glances cast her way. Her entire focus was on two words:
DIE CHIME.
The more she repeated it, the heavier it felt in her chest. She wandered into
the empty locker room, which provided her some solace, at last, though the silence couldn’t save her from the noise of her pestering thoughts. She knew her hands were moving—knew they were unbuttoning her blouse, lacing her
boots and suiting up for Combat class—but she felt nothing.
As she entered the gym, her mind was still hazy. The hateful message had
consumed her, enveloping her thoughts in its black ash. It would take a miracle
to break her spell; it would take an absolute shock, a sudden jolt to the senses.
“We have a new recruit joining the class,” Ramsey announced, slapping the
back of the young man at his side. “Valentine, get in line.”
Eve’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Before her stood Jason, dressed in the same
black uniform as everyone else, his thick scar protruding from the
neckline of his tank top. He took his place beside her in line, struggling to stifle his amusement over her obvious shock.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she whispered.
“Nice to see you, too.”
“The talking stops now,” Ramsey snapped, glancing over his clipboard.
“Everyone—laps.” He looked straight at Eve. “And no slacking.”
With a quick chirp of his whistle, the captain sent his students sprinting onto
the track. Eve and Jason effortlessly sped past their much slower classmates, weaving around their burly bodies and leaving them in a cloud of dust. As the
others disappeared into the background, Eve looked over at Jason and scowled.
“What’s going on?”
“I dropped Political Inquiry and took up Combat,” he answered nonchalantly.
“I gathered that. But why?”
Jason laughed. “Are you mad that I’m in your class?”
“You don’t have to keep tabs on me, if that’s what you’re doing.”
“Keep tabs on you?” he chuckled. “Look, Eve, I know you can take care of
yourself. You don’t have to remind me. But we were attacked this weekend. We
could’ve been killed. And that won’t be the last time it happens.” His tone became somber as he stared at the endless track ahead of him. “I need to learn
how to fight.”
Eve glanced over her shoulder to make sure that no one was within earshot,
but her peers were trailing far behind them. “You seemed to do a pretty good
job of it.”
“Pretty good isn’t good enough.”
“So, you’re not here because of me?”
He winked. “Of course not. Seeing you is just an added bonus.”
Ramsey’s whistle sounded from across the field. “If you can talk, you’re not
working hard enough!” he shouted. “Move your lazy asses!”
“God, Eve, you really have to stop holding me back in class,” Jason teased,
sprinting ahead of her.
Eve grumbled to herself and charged forward, competing against Jason for
the remainder of the run, the two of them eventually lapping the rest of their classmates.
Sprints were soon over, and the students hurried back to the gym, each of them
sweaty and achy—except, of course, for Eve and Jason. The others
watched them as they walked by; it seemed that Eve was no longer the center of
attention, as Jason’s celebrity and visible scar had sent the entire class into an awkward stir.
“It’s funny,” Jason said. “I actually know some of these guys. And now they
won’t even talk to me. They just… stare.” He turned to Eve. “But you’re totally
used to this, aren’t you?”
“I never get used to it.”
“Get used to what?” A voice from behind startled Eve, and she turned to see
Chin Dimple’s arrogant grin. “Being the shit stain of the human race?” He
stopped and cocked his head at Jason. “Looks like you called in some backup.
Too weak to take on the pressure alone? Couldn’t handle it?”
Eve smirked. “I handled myself just fine when I had my foot lodged between
your balls.”
“You should be careful. That mouth of yours is going to get you into
trouble.”
“Hey,” Jason snapped, stepping forward. “That’s enough. Walk away.”
The footballer ignored his demand. “You’re the guy from HV, right? The
one they dissected?” He approached Jason, staring him up and down until his
eyes landed on his scar. “They carved you up like a goddamn turkey. How’d that feel?”
Jason stood firm and stared back at his newfound adversary. He examined
the boy’s face: his combed hair, his chiseled jaw, and his cleft chin. He turned to Eve.
“This is Chin Dimple?”
“Chin Dimple?” The footballer turned to Eve and winked. “You got a pet
name for me?”
“I think Ass Face might’ve been more appropriate,” she scoffed.
“Oh, I can think of plenty of names for you, baby.”
“She’s not your baby—”
“You mind your own, chimera. I’ve got a message for her, that’s all.” Chin
Dimple put his face just inches from Eve’s and stared her in the eye. “What happened in the business building? That was nothing. We let you off easy.” He
leaned in even closer, his gaze fixed and perverse. “Next time, I’m going to make you scream like the little bitch you are.”
Jason lunged toward him. “You better watch what you say, or I swear to God
—”
“You’ll what?” he jeered. “You trying to play hero now?”
“Stay away from her,” Jason growled.
“Why? Is she your girlfriend?” He laughed. “Is that what this is about?”
A single vein bulged from Jason’s neck as he stared at Chin Dimple, his eyes
furious and his jaw clenched. “Don’t touch her.”
“Don’t touch her, huh? Funny you should say that.” A smile spread across
his lips. “Did you see the shiner I gave your girlfriend, chime?”
“What the hell is this shit?” Ramsey spat, entering the gym and interrupting the confrontation. “This ain’t a tea party. Line up, now.”
Jason glared at the footballer, his blood boiling as he took his place in the
formation. Eve stared at Jason: his arms were stiff at his sides, his fingers curled into tight, red fists.
“What was he talking about?” Jason muttered. “What happened in the
business building?”
Eve sighed; she recalled the threat and quickly shook it from her thoughts.
“It was all talk.”
“What was all talk?”
“Jason, I took care of it.”
He looked down at her, his eyes stony and cold. “Apparently you didn’t.”
Ramsey cleared his throat and flashed the twosome a critical frown. “Just
because we have a new recruit doesn’t mean we’re going to take things easy today,” he began. “We’re picking up where we left off: full-contact combat drills. Two will square off at a time, and the class will observe for takeaways
and tactical education.”
“Permission to speak, Captain?” Jason brazenly interrupted. Eve cringed;
she had the terrible feeling that whatever he had to say couldn’t be good.
“Yes, Valentine?”
“Captain, it seems only fair that I go first, seeing as everyone’s had a chance
to fight except me.”
The captain smirked. “Glad to hear you’re so just and honorable,” he said, his words riddled with sarcasm.
“And Captain,” Jason continued, cocking his head toward the end of the line.
“I want to fight him.”
Eve froze in place, her eyes wide and mortified—he had challenged Chin
Dimple. God DAMMIT, she thought to herself. She spun toward Jason.
“What the hell are you doing? ” she hissed.
Ramsey chuckled. “You don’t get to pick your opponent, kid—”
“I’m in,” the football player interrupted, confidently strutting forward.
The captain hesitated. He glanced back and forth between the athlete’s smug
grin, Jason’s cross glare, and Eve’s exasperated gawking. Suddenly, he smiled.
“You know what? I’m feeling obliging today.” He tossed his clipboard to the
floor. “To hell with the rules. Keller, Samson, set up the mats.”
As the ring was assembled, the sound of mutterings and whispers filled the room. The other students stared at Jason, curious for the fight in store, but Eve
didn’t share their intrigue; she stormed toward him, her eyes bulging lividly.
“Are you crazy?” she spat. “What do you think you’re doing? ”
“Look, the guy’s a hammer. He was asking for it.”
“Jason, you don’t even know how to fight.”
“So? I’m a chimera.”
“It’s not that simple, Jason.”
He looked back at his opponent, who was busy boasting to his friends.
“We’re supposed to be good at all things athletic, right?” he asked. “I mean, I’ve always been good at basketball.”
“This isn’t basketball, Jason. This is beating the shit out of someone.”
“Well, shouldn’t it just, I don’t know… come to me?”
Eve sighed. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“Then how does it work?”
“Look, you’re in way over your head—”
“I’m doing this, Eve, whether you help me or not.”
Eve growled under her breath. She knew it was no use, that Jason was
stubborn and meant what he said. She cursed his resolve and bit her bottom lip.
“Your muscle memory, reflexes, and speed are impeccable. That comes with
the territory. But there’s more than that inside of you—more that you haven’t
experienced yet.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked around before continuing. “Emergence doesn’t just bring about
your gift. It sort of… heightens everything else, too. Including your strength.”
“So I should be fine, right?”
“Not necessarily. You have to work for it. You have to find that fire.”
Jason furrowed his brow. “Fire?”
“Yes. Adrenaline. It’s like jet fuel for us. Whatever triggers your strength—
your passion—find it.”
“That doesn’t sound so hard.”
“Jason,” Eve groaned, “you’re not taking this seriously.”
He smirked. “Are you worried about me?”
“I’m trying to help you win.”
“You’re worried. It’s cute.”
Eve let out a long, irritated breath. “Just find the passion. Okay?”
Jason glanced at the mat, which was now fully assembled. “Passion. Got it.”
Eve followed Jason to the center of the gym and reluctantly joined the
onlookers, wiggling her way to the front of the crowd. She fidgeted nervously,
first resting her arms at her sides and then ultimately deciding to fold them across her chest. As Jason took his stance on the mat, Eve held her breath and
dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands.
Ramsey nodded his head at the fighters, instructing them to enter the ring and take their marks.
“Remember,” he said, “this is full contact. Keep it clean and stay within the
ring.” He fiddled with his whistle, swinging the cord around his thumb. “The match begins at the sound of this whistle.”
Just as the words left Ramsey’s lips, Chin Dimple slugged Jason across the
jaw, sending his neck whipping to the side. Eve gasped aloud as Jason stumbled
backward, his legs nearly bending under the force of the blow. Eve could
barely hear Ramsey’s cry—“Bad form, bad form!” —as if it were miles away,
because her head was filled with the sound of her rapid breathing and the thumping of her heart.
The footballer strolled casually to his opponent’s side; Jason was hunched
over, clutching his knees for support.
“Sorry,” he said, his tone patronizing. “Thought I heard the whistle. Guess I
was wrong.”
With a quick kick, he slammed his heel into Jason’s ribs. Jason dropped to his
hands and knees, gasping for air and coughing up blood, and again Chin Dimple kicked at his gut, this time even harder, sending Jason’s body
collapsing onto the mat.
“This is too easy,” he gloated, proudly standing above Jason and playing to
the crowd. “Give me a real fight.”
With gritted teeth, Jason kicked at his adversary’s boot, knocking his legs out
from under him and sending him onto his back with a loud thud. Jason lugged
his heavy, beaten body off of the mat and regained his footing; he dragged the
back of his hand across his mouth, wiping the blood from his split
lip and flicking it against the ground. As the bright red drops splattered onto the floor, Eve felt her heart leap into her throat.
Chin Dimple leapt to his feet, undeterred by Jason’s advances. He cracked
his neck and flashed a pompous smile.
“That it?”
Jason jabbed at the footballer, first at his nose and then his mouth, and for a
second Eve felt the slightest hint of relief. But Chin Dimple just adjusted his jaw and spit onto the mat before striking Jason with a roundhouse kick across
the face, sending him flat onto his back in what seemed like an instant.
“Jackass,” Chin Dimple muttered, his voice thick with bloody saliva.
Jason regained his feet and swung his fist at his opponent’s eye, but the footballer blocked his blow and immediately pounded him across the nose.
Jason staggered to the side of the mat and wiped the blood from his mouth, smearing it like red paint across his face.
“You’re worse than your girlfriend,” Chin Dimple sneered.
Jason struck him with a right hook to the temple and an upper cut straight to
the jaw, and blood spewed from the footballer ’s lips like a sputtering faucet.
Driven by fury, Chin Dimple smashed his boot into Jason’s cheekbone; blood
gushed from Jason’s mouth, staining his chin a deep shade of red. Eve felt her
pulse beating in her throat; she wanted to intervene, to end the fight herself, and yet she was paralyzed, her feet rooted to the floor as she watched the primal display in shock.
Chin Dimple pounded Jason’s jaw yet again, aiming for the bloody mess as
if it were his only target. Jason struggled to guard himself; he was determined but weak, visibly lacking the energy to fight. Again he was struck in the jaw, and then once more, his body swaying from side to side as the blows came one
after the next. The footballer kicked Jason in the gut, and his chest curled forward as he helplessly gasped for air. Every ounce of power had been
drained from Jason’s body, and Eve knew that the match would soon be over:
Jason was going to lose. Just when he appeared to have had enough, Jason’s jaw lurched to the side yet again as his rival jabbed at his already battered nose, sending blood gushing from his nostrils.
Eve winced; Jason was still standing, but barely, his body broken and
debilitated, his face bruised and streaked with blood. One or two more strong
blows and he would be finished. Chin Dimple circled Jason like a vulture over
a carcass, evidently overjoyed by his soon-to-be-conquest.
“This was fun, wasn’t it?” he crowed in his typical, arrogant fashion. “But you
know what was even more fun? Fighting your girlfriend.”
“Shut up,” Jason spat, drawing his fists closer to his face.
“Oh, you want to hear this,” Chin Dimple went on. “You see, she may have
won that fight, but I’m the one who really left a winner. You want to know why?”
“I said, shut up.”
The footballer punched Jason in the face, silencing him instantly.
“I’m going to tell you anyway.” He leaned closer to Jason, utterly confident
in his dominance. “When I had her pinned to the ground and I was lying on top
of her—God, it felt so good just to feel her sweet ass underneath my body.” He smiled, his teeth red with blood and his stare cutting like razor blades.
“Even if she’s nothing more than a dirty, whorish chime.”
Something flashed in Jason’s eyes, and out of nowhere his fist flew,
pounding the footballer across the chin so hard it sent his body spinning in a
complete circle. The entire room gasped in unison. Jason struck again, this time in the nose and then again across the jaw, sending a spray of blood from
his mouth.
Jason was rejuvenated, recharged with a new, overwhelming power that
surged in his veins like gasoline. He grabbed at Chin Dimple’s shirt, nearly tearing the fabric with his grip, and punched him across the jaw again and again with a strong right hook. The football star wobbled from side to side, but
before he could even attempt to regain his footing, Jason sprang forward and
kicked him in the center of his chest.
Chin Dimple staggered off of the mat, nearly tripping off the edge as he
***
The day moved at a glacial pace, as if Eve were watching it unfold in slow
motion. Her mind was elsewhere, far from her studies, and even farther from
the curious glances cast her way. Her entire focus was on two words:
DIE CHIME.
The more she repeated it, the heavier it felt in her chest. She wandered into
the empty locker room, which provided her some solace, at last, though the silence couldn’t save her from the noise of her pestering thoughts. She knew her hands were moving—knew they were unbuttoning her blouse, lacing her
boots and suiting up for Combat class—but she felt nothing.
As she entered the gym, her mind was still hazy. The hateful message had
consumed her, enveloping her thoughts in its black ash. It would take a miracle
to break her spell; it would take an absolute shock, a sudden jolt to the senses.
“We have a new recruit joining the class,” Ramsey announced, slapping the
back of the young man at his side. “Valentine, get in line.”
Eve’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Before her stood Jason, dressed in the same
black uniform as everyone else, his thick scar protruding from the
neckline of his tank top. He took his place beside her in line, struggling to stifle his amusement over her obvious shock.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she whispered.
“Nice to see you, too.”
“The talking stops now,” Ramsey snapped, glancing over his clipboard.
“Everyone—laps.” He looked straight at Eve. “And no slacking.”
With a quick chirp of his whistle, the captain sent his students sprinting onto
the track. Eve and Jason effortlessly sped past their much slower classmates, weaving around their burly bodies and leaving them in a cloud of dust. As the
others disappeared into the background, Eve looked over at Jason and scowled.
“What’s going on?”
“I dropped Political Inquiry and took up Combat,” he answered nonchalantly.
“I gathered that. But why?”
Jason laughed. “Are you mad that I’m in your class?”
“You don’t have to keep tabs on me, if that’s what you’re doing.”
“Keep tabs on you?” he chuckled. “Look, Eve, I know you can take care of
yourself. You don’t have to remind me. But we were attacked this weekend. We
could’ve been killed. And that won’t be the last time it happens.” His tone became somber as he stared at the endless track ahead of him. “I need to learn
how to fight.”
Eve glanced over her shoulder to make sure that no one was within earshot,
but her peers were trailing far behind them. “You seemed to do a pretty good
job of it.”
“Pretty good isn’t good enough.”
“So, you’re not here because of me?”
He winked. “Of course not. Seeing you is just an added bonus.”
Ramsey’s whistle sounded from across the field. “If you can talk, you’re not
working hard enough!” he shouted. “Move your lazy asses!”
“God, Eve, you really have to stop holding me back in class,” Jason teased,
sprinting ahead of her.
Eve grumbled to herself and charged forward, competing against Jason for
the remainder of the run, the two of them eventually lapping the rest of their classmates.
Sprints were soon over, and the students hurried back to the gym, each of them
sweaty and achy—except, of course, for Eve and Jason. The others
watched them as they walked by; it seemed that Eve was no longer the center of
attention, as Jason’s celebrity and visible scar had sent the entire class into an awkward stir.
“It’s funny,” Jason said. “I actually know some of these guys. And now they
won’t even talk to me. They just… stare.” He turned to Eve. “But you’re totally
used to this, aren’t you?”
“I never get used to it.”
“Get used to what?” A voice from behind startled Eve, and she turned to see
Chin Dimple’s arrogant grin. “Being the shit stain of the human race?” He
stopped and cocked his head at Jason. “Looks like you called in some backup.
Too weak to take on the pressure alone? Couldn’t handle it?”
Eve smirked. “I handled myself just fine when I had my foot lodged between
your balls.”
“You should be careful. That mouth of yours is going to get you into
trouble.”
“Hey,” Jason snapped, stepping forward. “That’s enough. Walk away.”
The footballer ignored his demand. “You’re the guy from HV, right? The
one they dissected?” He approached Jason, staring him up and down until his
eyes landed on his scar. “They carved you up like a goddamn turkey. How’d that feel?”
Jason stood firm and stared back at his newfound adversary. He examined
the boy’s face: his combed hair, his chiseled jaw, and his cleft chin. He turned to Eve.
“This is Chin Dimple?”
“Chin Dimple?” The footballer turned to Eve and winked. “You got a pet
name for me?”
“I think Ass Face might’ve been more appropriate,” she scoffed.
“Oh, I can think of plenty of names for you, baby.”
“She’s not your baby—”
“You mind your own, chimera. I’ve got a message for her, that’s all.” Chin
Dimple put his face just inches from Eve’s and stared her in the eye. “What happened in the business building? That was nothing. We let you off easy.” He
leaned in even closer, his gaze fixed and perverse. “Next time, I’m going to make you scream like the little bitch you are.”
Jason lunged toward him. “You better watch what you say, or I swear to God
—”
“You’ll what?” he jeered. “You trying to play hero now?”
“Stay away from her,” Jason growled.
“Why? Is she your girlfriend?” He laughed. “Is that what this is about?”
A single vein bulged from Jason’s neck as he stared at Chin Dimple, his eyes
furious and his jaw clenched. “Don’t touch her.”
“Don’t touch her, huh? Funny you should say that.” A smile spread across
his lips. “Did you see the shiner I gave your girlfriend, chime?”
“What the hell is this shit?” Ramsey spat, entering the gym and interrupting the confrontation. “This ain’t a tea party. Line up, now.”
Jason glared at the footballer, his blood boiling as he took his place in the
formation. Eve stared at Jason: his arms were stiff at his sides, his fingers curled into tight, red fists.
“What was he talking about?” Jason muttered. “What happened in the
business building?”
Eve sighed; she recalled the threat and quickly shook it from her thoughts.
“It was all talk.”
“What was all talk?”
“Jason, I took care of it.”
He looked down at her, his eyes stony and cold. “Apparently you didn’t.”
Ramsey cleared his throat and flashed the twosome a critical frown. “Just
because we have a new recruit doesn’t mean we’re going to take things easy today,” he began. “We’re picking up where we left off: full-contact combat drills. Two will square off at a time, and the class will observe for takeaways
and tactical education.”
“Permission to speak, Captain?” Jason brazenly interrupted. Eve cringed;
she had the terrible feeling that whatever he had to say couldn’t be good.
“Yes, Valentine?”
“Captain, it seems only fair that I go first, seeing as everyone’s had a chance
to fight except me.”
The captain smirked. “Glad to hear you’re so just and honorable,” he said, his words riddled with sarcasm.
“And Captain,” Jason continued, cocking his head toward the end of the line.
“I want to fight him.”
Eve froze in place, her eyes wide and mortified—he had challenged Chin
Dimple. God DAMMIT, she thought to herself. She spun toward Jason.
“What the hell are you doing? ” she hissed.
Ramsey chuckled. “You don’t get to pick your opponent, kid—”
“I’m in,” the football player interrupted, confidently strutting forward.
The captain hesitated. He glanced back and forth between the athlete’s smug
grin, Jason’s cross glare, and Eve’s exasperated gawking. Suddenly, he smiled.
“You know what? I’m feeling obliging today.” He tossed his clipboard to the
floor. “To hell with the rules. Keller, Samson, set up the mats.”
As the ring was assembled, the sound of mutterings and whispers filled the room. The other students stared at Jason, curious for the fight in store, but Eve
didn’t share their intrigue; she stormed toward him, her eyes bulging lividly.
“Are you crazy?” she spat. “What do you think you’re doing? ”
“Look, the guy’s a hammer. He was asking for it.”
“Jason, you don’t even know how to fight.”
“So? I’m a chimera.”
“It’s not that simple, Jason.”
He looked back at his opponent, who was busy boasting to his friends.
“We’re supposed to be good at all things athletic, right?” he asked. “I mean, I’ve always been good at basketball.”
“This isn’t basketball, Jason. This is beating the shit out of someone.”
“Well, shouldn’t it just, I don’t know… come to me?”
Eve sighed. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“Then how does it work?”
“Look, you’re in way over your head—”
“I’m doing this, Eve, whether you help me or not.”
Eve growled under her breath. She knew it was no use, that Jason was
stubborn and meant what he said. She cursed his resolve and bit her bottom lip.
“Your muscle memory, reflexes, and speed are impeccable. That comes with
the territory. But there’s more than that inside of you—more that you haven’t
experienced yet.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked around before continuing. “Emergence doesn’t just bring about
your gift. It sort of… heightens everything else, too. Including your strength.”
“So I should be fine, right?”
“Not necessarily. You have to work for it. You have to find that fire.”
Jason furrowed his brow. “Fire?”
“Yes. Adrenaline. It’s like jet fuel for us. Whatever triggers your strength—
your passion—find it.”
“That doesn’t sound so hard.”
“Jason,” Eve groaned, “you’re not taking this seriously.”
He smirked. “Are you worried about me?”
“I’m trying to help you win.”
“You’re worried. It’s cute.”
Eve let out a long, irritated breath. “Just find the passion. Okay?”
Jason glanced at the mat, which was now fully assembled. “Passion. Got it.”
Eve followed Jason to the center of the gym and reluctantly joined the
onlookers, wiggling her way to the front of the crowd. She fidgeted nervously,
first resting her arms at her sides and then ultimately deciding to fold them across her chest. As Jason took his stance on the mat, Eve held her breath and
dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands.
Ramsey nodded his head at the fighters, instructing them to enter the ring and take their marks.
“Remember,” he said, “this is full contact. Keep it clean and stay within the
ring.” He fiddled with his whistle, swinging the cord around his thumb. “The match begins at the sound of this whistle.”
Just as the words left Ramsey’s lips, Chin Dimple slugged Jason across the
jaw, sending his neck whipping to the side. Eve gasped aloud as Jason stumbled
backward, his legs nearly bending under the force of the blow. Eve could
barely hear Ramsey’s cry—“Bad form, bad form!” —as if it were miles away,
because her head was filled with the sound of her rapid breathing and the thumping of her heart.
The footballer strolled casually to his opponent’s side; Jason was hunched
over, clutching his knees for support.
“Sorry,” he said, his tone patronizing. “Thought I heard the whistle. Guess I
was wrong.”
With a quick kick, he slammed his heel into Jason’s ribs. Jason dropped to his
hands and knees, gasping for air and coughing up blood, and again Chin Dimple kicked at his gut, this time even harder, sending Jason’s body
collapsing onto the mat.
“This is too easy,” he gloated, proudly standing above Jason and playing to
the crowd. “Give me a real fight.”
With gritted teeth, Jason kicked at his adversary’s boot, knocking his legs out
from under him and sending him onto his back with a loud thud. Jason lugged
his heavy, beaten body off of the mat and regained his footing; he dragged the
back of his hand across his mouth, wiping the blood from his split
lip and flicking it against the ground. As the bright red drops splattered onto the floor, Eve felt her heart leap into her throat.
Chin Dimple leapt to his feet, undeterred by Jason’s advances. He cracked
his neck and flashed a pompous smile.
“That it?”
Jason jabbed at the footballer, first at his nose and then his mouth, and for a
second Eve felt the slightest hint of relief. But Chin Dimple just adjusted his jaw and spit onto the mat before striking Jason with a roundhouse kick across
the face, sending him flat onto his back in what seemed like an instant.
“Jackass,” Chin Dimple muttered, his voice thick with bloody saliva.
Jason regained his feet and swung his fist at his opponent’s eye, but the footballer blocked his blow and immediately pounded him across the nose.
Jason staggered to the side of the mat and wiped the blood from his mouth, smearing it like red paint across his face.
“You’re worse than your girlfriend,” Chin Dimple sneered.
Jason struck him with a right hook to the temple and an upper cut straight to
the jaw, and blood spewed from the footballer ’s lips like a sputtering faucet.
Driven by fury, Chin Dimple smashed his boot into Jason’s cheekbone; blood
gushed from Jason’s mouth, staining his chin a deep shade of red. Eve felt her
pulse beating in her throat; she wanted to intervene, to end the fight herself, and yet she was paralyzed, her feet rooted to the floor as she watched the primal display in shock.
Chin Dimple pounded Jason’s jaw yet again, aiming for the bloody mess as
if it were his only target. Jason struggled to guard himself; he was determined but weak, visibly lacking the energy to fight. Again he was struck in the jaw, and then once more, his body swaying from side to side as the blows came one
after the next. The footballer kicked Jason in the gut, and his chest curled forward as he helplessly gasped for air. Every ounce of power had been
drained from Jason’s body, and Eve knew that the match would soon be over:
Jason was going to lose. Just when he appeared to have had enough, Jason’s jaw lurched to the side yet again as his rival jabbed at his already battered nose, sending blood gushing from his nostrils.
Eve winced; Jason was still standing, but barely, his body broken and
debilitated, his face bruised and streaked with blood. One or two more strong
blows and he would be finished. Chin Dimple circled Jason like a vulture over
a carcass, evidently overjoyed by his soon-to-be-conquest.
“This was fun, wasn’t it?” he crowed in his typical, arrogant fashion. “But you
know what was even more fun? Fighting your girlfriend.”
“Shut up,” Jason spat, drawing his fists closer to his face.
“Oh, you want to hear this,” Chin Dimple went on. “You see, she may have
won that fight, but I’m the one who really left a winner. You want to know why?”
“I said, shut up.”
The footballer punched Jason in the face, silencing him instantly.
“I’m going to tell you anyway.” He leaned closer to Jason, utterly confident
in his dominance. “When I had her pinned to the ground and I was lying on top
of her—God, it felt so good just to feel her sweet ass underneath my body.” He smiled, his teeth red with blood and his stare cutting like razor blades.
“Even if she’s nothing more than a dirty, whorish chime.”
Something flashed in Jason’s eyes, and out of nowhere his fist flew,
pounding the footballer across the chin so hard it sent his body spinning in a
complete circle. The entire room gasped in unison. Jason struck again, this time in the nose and then again across the jaw, sending a spray of blood from
his mouth.
Jason was rejuvenated, recharged with a new, overwhelming power that
surged in his veins like gasoline. He grabbed at Chin Dimple’s shirt, nearly tearing the fabric with his grip, and punched him across the jaw again and again with a strong right hook. The football star wobbled from side to side, but
before he could even attempt to regain his footing, Jason sprang forward and
kicked him in the center of his chest.
Chin Dimple staggered off of the mat, nearly tripping off the edge as he
