Page 87 of Retaliation

“I haven’t even broken a sweat. Is there no one else?” The weight of her words echoed in the silence, a challenge to any else who dared to face her.

The crowd that had erupted into boos fell into a hushed silence, punctuated only by the thunderous voice that crackled through the air, cutting through the spectators’ roar.

“Wait!” Scorpion’s voice reverberated, commanding attention like a sergeant’s orders.

The sudden stillness enveloped the arena, so complete that one could hear a pin drop before he spoke again.

“I will fight you.” His words rang with an unwavering determination that sent a sharp pang coursing through her chest, twisting her heart with an ache she couldn’t deny.

As he strode closer to the ring, her gaze lingered on him, taking in every detail. The devilish fire still danced in his eyes, casting shadows that mirrored the fiery passion that ignited the night they first met. With each step, his presence loomed larger, his stance reminiscent of a wild stallion, his nostrils flaring with an untamed intensity.

Poison drew a deep breath, steeling herself for what was coming. She met his gaze with a steady calm, allowing a sinister smile to curl the corners of her lips as she addressed him. This was it. This was what she came here for.

“Well, if it isn’t the infamous Scorpion,” she remarked, her voice a low, sardonic purr that echoed through the arena.

This was exactly what she had wanted, yet as Scorpion climbed into the ring, a flicker of doubt ignited within her chest. She drew in a slow, steadying breath, willing herself to maintain outward composure even as turmoil churned within her. Fear, a treacherous adversary, threatened to claw its way to the surface, but she knew all too well that succumbing to such weakness could seal her fate.

Scorpion’s presence in the ring was a stark reminder of the dangers she was about to face; the thin line she was walking. Though she had never faced him in a fight, the memory of her brutal encounter with his brother haunted her like a ghost, a chilling testament to the ruthlessness of their world.

Every step she took toward this confrontation was a gamble, a calculated risk that could tip the delicate balance of power in an instant. Scorpion, a feared leader in his own right, commanded territory that dwarfed her own, a witness to his unwavering strength and influence. To challenge him was to court danger, to thrust herself into the heart of a storm with no guarantee of survival.

Summoning her courage, Poison seized the microphone once more, her voice cutting through the tense silence that hung over the.

“Why don’t we make this a bit more… interesting?” Her words dripped with a mocking edge, laced with a hint of challenge that dared Scorpion to meet her on equal ground.

She sensed his gaze flicker toward her, a silent question hanging in the air. Ignoring the instinct to falter, she maintained her façade, the curve of her lips stretching into a sugary smile that masked the turmoil churning within.

“How about we make this…” Her voice trailed off, a calculated pause punctuating her words with an air of anticipation that lingered. “A death match?”

The reaction from her audience and Scorpion was palpable, their expressions ranging from horror to disbelief, to excitement. But she remained unshakeable, her determination a steel fortress against the doubts that threatened to consume her.

Dismissing the unspoken protests of Gunnar and Dennis at the ring’s edge, she met Scorpion’s indifferent shrug with a steely gaze of her own, the silent exchange a harbinger. In the eyes of the crowd, however, her words ignited an eagerness, their cheers rising like a primal hymn to the impending spectacle of violence.

Seizing the microphone once more, Poison raised it skyward, a final gesture that marked the point of no return. Yet, even as she did so, a sense of foreboding tightened its grip around her heart, a chilling premonition of the chaos that was about to unfold.

Without warning, Scorpion surged forward with the ferocity of a raging bull, his arms rising like serpents ready to strike, fists clenched with an iron grip. His approach was swift and calculated, aimed at catching her off guard.

She braced herself, anticipating his attack, but he was one step ahead. With a deceptive feint, he lured her into a false sense of security, knowing she would instinctively evade to the right. Yet, as she moved to avoid his anticipated blow, he pivoted with the fluidity of a stream flowing down a mountain, the momentum of his swing transforming into a devastating strike of his elbow aimed directly at her vulnerable face.

The impact was brutal, the sharp edge of his elbow crashing into the bridge of her nose with bone-shattering force. Pain exploded through her senses, a searing agony that threatened to overwhelm her as blood cascaded from her nostrils in a crimson river.

A strangled cry escaped her lips as she staggered backward, fighting to regain her footing in the haze of pain and disorientation. The moment she regained her balance, she aimed a kick at his side, but Scorpion seized the opportunity, his grip like a vice as he ensnared her ankle.

With a vicious twist, he wrenched her off balance, the sickening sensation of her ankle twisting painfully beneath his grasp. Then, with ruthless precision, he delivered a punishing blow to her gut, the force of his punch driving the air from her lungs in a breathless gasp of agony.

She doubled over, the world spinning as she struggled to draw breath into her heaving lungs. Each inhalation felt like fire, her body protesting against the onslaught of pain. But even as she fought to regain her composure, Scorpion pressed his advantage, relentless in his assault.

He came charging like a cyclone, his movements a blur of speed and violence that left her reeling. She barely had time to straighten before his fist collided with brutal force beneath her chin, a vicious uppercut that sent shockwaves of pain rippling through her body.

Agony engulfed her as the impact reverberated through her jaw, teeth clashing together with a sickening crunch as blood welled in her mouth. With a guttural scream of pain, she staggered backward, the ground rising up to meet her with cruel inevitability.

Scorpion’s form receded into the shadows of the opposite corner, a silent judge of her suffering as she spat blood onto the unforgiving ground. Each breath was a struggle, her lungs burning with exertion as she fought to rise once more from the depths of her agony.

Every inch of her body screamed in protest, a symphony of pain that echoed through her being. Her nose throbbed with a dull ache, her chin tender to the touch, her stomach twisted in knots of agony, and her

ankle throbbed with each movement.

But amidst the torment, a flicker of realization dawned within her. This was more than just a fight; it was a battle for survival, a clash of wills that threatened to consume them both. She knew Scorpion’s prowess, but the relentless onslaught he unleashed surpassed even her darkest expectations. She knew he was good, but fuck, this was ridiculous. He was toying with her and she didn’t stand a chance.

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