Page 117 of Falcon

Chapter 25

Falcon

The lights shining above are like bullets in my brain. The pain is intense, so much so I feel sick.

There are so many spots in my vision it’s more than difficult to see anything in front of me.

When we are told to come out fighting, my body works on autopilot. I bring my hands up to protect my face.

I can see Jesse Dominique across from me, but he’s a hazy blur. He’s moving around, stalking me, and when he comes close enough, I swing out, connecting a blow to his right shoulder.

He retaliates with a punch to my stomach and a swing kick to my legs, trying to knock me off balance, and he nearly succeeds. I stumble, much to the pleasure of the crowd, but I right myself easily and take a few steps back to regain the upper hand.

Dominique rushes me again, and I bend forward, taking a swing at his stomach then forcing a kick the same way, nailing him in the chest.

He retaliates with a solid blow to the top of my head with his right hook.

It shakes me to my core and almost sends me to my knees. I stumble back into the cage and he attacks. Landing blow after blow after blow to my head and my body. But I don’t tap out. I never tap out. I raise my hands as best I can, lock them together over his hand and bring them down with all of my force to an area between his shoulder blades.

He coughs out as the air leaves his lungs and he steps back away from me as Round 1 comes to an end.

I can feel that my head is bleeding. He broke skin. It’s confirmed when the team descends on me to patch me up before Round 2 begins.

“Falc, man, look at me.” Joe is down in front of me, holding my face in his hands to see if anything else needs attention. “Are you all right? You’re getting manhandled out there.”

“I’m fine.” I shove him away a bit so I can put my head back down, away from the lights.

“Like hell you are. What the fuck is going on?”

“I said I’m fine.” I take a breath and put on the best game face I can. Fighting through the pain. “Let’s do this.”

I push from the cage and head back to the middle of the Octagon and Round 2 begins and ends much the same as round one.

It’s scrappy, it’s messy, and it’s bloody. And with each passing moment, I feel worse…and worse.

I try to fight. I really do, but my punches connect with air. My kicks and shoves lead nowhere.

I don’t even see him coming for me. I don’t see him taking his swing. I just feel the impact of his fist in the center of my face…then the sharp slam of his foot connecting with the left side of my head.

I don’t even feel my body connect with the mat.

Everything is just…black.

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