LAST MAN STANDING [COMPLETED]

Chapter Twenty-Four

My left bare foot with bandages around it tapped on the concrete floor as I sat on the steel bench, both my hand held together, covering my mouth and nose. A few fighters walked in and out, passing glances at me. My heart ached.

I was all alone, they had left me, my team. They had left me because I wanted to make a career for myself, be independent and finally be part of the FL200. I sniffed. Fuck them all!

My ears caught the footsteps walking in as the few fighters all walked out. She glanced at me. Poison in her eyes. She pulled her locker door open. "Give up," she said, her hoarse voice sharp. "Your team left you, you don't look so good, just give up and save yourself the embarrassment."

"Fuck you," I cursed at her, turning to face her.

Alexia. In her red shorts and sport bra. She was bandaging her hands which had chains underneath. A short deep laughter followed by disturbing gasps left her lips. Such a devil!

"I won't play nice with you, your rich, spoilt bitch isn't here to do favours for you," she hissed, closing her locker. I glared at her, too angry to speak.

Bitch? Favours? What was she on about?

"Lexia!" I could hear her trainer call for her.

She moved away, heading away and stopped. "And Hyphen, stay away from my brother," before walking away.

Brother? My foot proceeding with tapping on the concrete floor. I was fired up and hurt. How was I going to do this all by myself? I was up next, I needed to beat her, to show Morgen I could do it.

He would be proud of me. I was going to make him proud, proud like he had been when I knocked Titus the wrecker. I moved up, pulling my white towel that was lying beside me. I opened my locker.

The stuck-on photographs of Morgen, Jason, Hinto and I came to my view. We had taken it back in the Monet gym, when I was fourteen years old.

"Fuck you!" I cursed slamming my head inside. "FUCK!"

Why was he denying me the only thing that made me human? The only thing I did best?

"HUH!" slamming my head harder. "I CAN DO IT!"

My scream aching through the empty locker room. "Why..." my hand letting go of the locker door as I slid onto the floor. Blood dripped onto the floor as tears cascaded heavily down my face onto the floor. My forehead was bleeding, and it didn't bother me.

What was the use of keeping an empty tin? Because it wasn't empty, just rotten, I guess. It was my fault not Morgen's or anyone. I had done this to myself, I deserved it. This was a life I had chosen the moment I had decided to be Hyphen.

~ ~ ~

My hand moved the white towel onto my forehead, gently wiping the blood off it. Blankly my eyes on the wall before me. If they could talk, they would tell a lot of secrets. A deep breath left my lips, putting the bloody towel near me.

Crying over spilt milk was senseless. I needed to get back on the game. I was going to face this one alone. I was going to show Morgen it was never a mistake to teach me how to fight and raising me.

He would see that I was the perfect gift he would ever want, not some disappointment. My hand held on the cold concrete floor beside me. I grimaced helping myself up.

"I live to make history not to let history make me,"

Words I had not heard for eighteen years came to my mind.

It hurt but I was going to be alright. The footsteps getting close caught my ear. It was probably the host, coming to get me. The familiar figure appeared as my forehead frowned.

"Hyphen," he said.

"I'm doing this Jason, you can't stop me," I said out loud.

He tossed the bottle of water at me, and I caught it without realizing it. "Who fuckin said anything about stopping you?"

My eyes widened, my grip on the bottle of cold-water tightening. He moved towards me. "But Mo..."

My eyes suddenly caught the fading in footsteps before meeting the face of the familiar man walking toward us. He hung two white towels around his forearm, making him look like an English teacher. A private English tutor I had back when I was only a child.

"I'm Jason Clarke and when I signed up to being your assistant trainer, I vowed never to let a fighter walk alone to battle," Jason's voice pulled me out of my stare at Hinto.

My hand involuntary wrapped itself around Jason. His body tensed at my reaction. "I owe you one," my eyes lifting onto Hinto. "I'm sorry for the way I talked to you earlier o.."

"It's alright Hyphen, no man is perfect,"

"We got you," Jason added patting my back. "Now you need to win, that what you owe us,"

His hand moving away from my back. Of course, I needed to win. Like a fuckin god, they were my people and I had to win, just for them.

"Can you do that?" Jason asked.

I nodded. "I was born for it,"

A smile crept on both their faces. "Then let's go show those motherfuckers who you are," Hinto said.

I nodded, tilting my head left then right to making flexible. I needed to be relaxed in the ring.

"Now who do they call you?!" Jason asked firmly.

"Hyphen the conquer," I replied.

"Come on Hyphen! GIVE ME THAT ATITUDE! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" he yelled, his hand holding the back of my head, our foreheads touching.

I felt my body turning hot. "HYPHEN! HYPHEN THE CONQUER!" I yelled back feeling more strength in me.

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"HYPHEN THE CONQUER!" I yelled my hands moving as he left my head go.

"GOOD! NOW WE SHOW THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS WHY YOU ARE NAMED THE CONQUER!"

I started jumping a little, my hand opening the bottle of water, splashing it on myself. "There," Hinto said handing me the mouth guard.

I took it putting it in my mouth. "Let's go!" Jason yelled leading the way.

Morgen hadn't shown up but he would be proud at me when I win. I was going to do my best!