No Escape // MCYT High School Au

Chapter 3

No one's POV:

The chamber was dark, an elevated stage standing tall and proud in the middle. Multiple lights lit up the space, making it hard to see anything but what was on the stage. The area around the platform was crowded, packed with people. The stage and floor consisted entirely of hard concrete, making head injuries fatal and giving bigger, heavier opponents the advantage.

The walls of the room were blank, a dark shade of grey that could have been black. They encompassed the large, circular area, only ending at the huge double doors, which currently stood firmly shut.

Normally, this arena was silent before a fight, but now, whispers rang out, echoing through the room. Today, Purpled was going to fight here. He was put in one of the biggest arenas, and hundreds of people had shown up to watch the fight. His opponent was known as Cracker. This was both because she acted like she was constantly on crack and because she had a record of cracking skulls in half with just her fists.

Anyone new to the rings would be placing their bets on Cracker. She was bigger, stronger, and older. By a lot. But Purpled was small and fast. He was known to win his fights using strategy and speed, and he was good at using his competitors' strength against them.

Which was why thousands of dollars were stacked up, betting in his favor. Unfortunately, this was also why tensions between his enemies and supporters rose so drastically when he didn't arrive on time.

His two closest allies stood just a few feet from the door. Fidgeting anxiously, their gazes darting between the game makers and the door. They knew the game makers liked Purpled, and probably wouldn't be inclined to kill him, but they didn't truly care about any one here.

Yes, they loved watching under dogs rise to the top. It was why they had insisted on Technoblade coming back once a year, even though he was free of his debt. But they had still lost Technoblade. They were no longer able to watch him in the rings, taking out opponent after opponent. So they had found a new champion to keep them entertained.

But a champion had to be perfect, and they would be forced to take action if Purpled did not arrive soon.

"Where is he?" Wallibear whispered.

"I don't know! He knows how important it is to be on time," 80 responded.

"Do you know where he lives? Maybe one of us can try to find him."

"Did you seriously just ask me that? You know how closed off he is. He doesn't even consider us friends, just allies."

Wallibear rubbed his temples, trying to lower his anxiety. Purpled was only three minutes late so far, but the game makers could disqualify him any second now.

Suddenly, the whispers dissipated. The two friends snapped their heads up, eyes landing on the small figure that had just entered the arena. They both relaxed, relieved that Purpled had made it. They had no idea how he had gotten in without walking past them, but they didn't care. They were just glad he was alive and would be allowed to live another day.

Purpled's POV:

I scanned the audience, trying to locate a familiar face. Not that it was comforting to have a friend there to watch or anything. Wait - no - I didn't have friends. If I did, they would leave me, like everyone else.

My thoughts silenced as I spotted them. Walli and 80 were leaning against the wall next to the doors, looking extremely relieved. I understood why my allies had been concerned. I almost didn't make it on time, and they would have lost their bets if I had been disqualified.

I took a deep breath and turned to Cracker. My breath caught in my throat as we made eye contact. She glared at me, her eyes darting around my face. I hated the feeling, and immediately averted my gaze.

A/N: No, this doesn't mean he's part enderman.

Instead, I began watching her hands, her body language. Everything about her screamed danger, but I knew I had a chance. I shook out my arms and lowered myself into a crouch. Cracker simply flexed her hands open and closed.

I stared at her, eyes darting between her legs, her hands, and her upper body. I knew Cracker had a habit of telegraphing her moves. I knew this fight was coming up, so I made sure to stop by a few of her previous fights. She was consistent, always focusing on grabbing her competitors. In any other scenario, fighting any one else, that would have probably been a disadvantage.

But she was Cracker. The minute she wrapped a hand around you, it was game over. Anything she could get those fists around would break under the pressure. A smirk painted itself on to her face. She was confident, but that could be her downfall.

She'd underestimate me. She knew I was fast, but her ego was too big. She wouldn't have over-prepared for this fight. It was obvious. She didn't even bother getting into a fighting stance. She was broadcasting her intentions, but she believed she was good enough to win nonetheless.

Bang!

The sound of a gun shot had me leaping into action. I jumped to the side as she sprinted forward, her infamous palms closing on air. I slipped behind her, chopping towards the base of her neck, hoping to knock her down using the pressure point.

Unfortunately, she anticipated my move. Crusher spun around, throwing up a forearm. My hand hit her arm and she reached out, trying to grab me. I dropped to the floor. I knew it put me at a disadvantage, but she'd almost managed to grab me.

I rolled under her legs, bringing a foot up to kick her in the stomach. My heel jammed into her stomach, causing her to cough and stagger away, out of my range.

"You little SHIT!" she hollered at me.

I stared at her with an emotionless face. I didn't let my face betray what I was feeling, I didn't let my joy at pushing her to anger show. I knew she'd act more brash now. She'd be less tactical, and more sloppy.

She ran at me again, and I ducked out of the way, reaching up and pushing two fingers in to a spot on her bicep. She cursed and pulled her arm away, back to her body.

I knew her arm was stinging from the pressure point I had hit. It wasn't enough to do any real damage, but it would be distracting until the tingling faded in a minute or two.

We continued on like this for a few minutes. I focused on dodging, while Cracker was intent on getting a fist around one of my appendages. My goal was to tire her out, and then hopefully knock her out by hitting a good pressure point on her head or neck.

Everything was going nicely. I wasn't too tired, and nothing seemed to be wrong. Until I became too predictable.

We had been fighting for too long, and I had completely forgotten to vary my movements. To make sure she couldn't guess what I was going to do next.

I had just dodged to the side, but, this time, she turned with me. I didn't have time move out of the way, and my eyes widened as her fist closed around my forearm.

No, no, no, NO, NO, NO!

I had to get out of this fast. The fight had to end right now if I wanted to survive. I felt her vise-like grip getting tighter and tighter. It was cutting off my blood flow and her other hand started reaching toward my head. I swung myself up to her shoulders using the arm still clutching me and wrapped my legs around her neck.

Time seemed to slow down. She started falling, tumbling toward the cold concrete, and I made a decision. It was either me or her, my well-being or her continued existence.

So I moved my legs out of the way, leaving nothing between the ground and her head. I felt her hand crush into my arm, and I let out a shout of pain.

The snap of my elbow reached my ears mere seconds before the crack of her skull against the concrete echoed through the room.