Arachnophobia ⇒ Peter Parker

two: boxing rink

     I paced down the street, scanning all the buildings. My feet matched up with pavement and the hardened pieces of bubblegum that lined them. My gaze scanned over the common names of restaurant chains and cheap logos of decaying businesses. After peeking at the address omitting from the screen on my phone, a smile settled on my lips as I located the correct location.     

    The quaint boxing gym that I had been stationed in was sold to some generic, corporate store. Teenage girls would run down the aisles, sifting through clothing, with no knowledge of what had previously occurred there. Their ankle platforms would click against the cement floors that were once covered in blood stains. Their eyes would shift, analyzing articles of clothing.

     And now, I was forced to succumb to a change of location. Meanwhile, their gluttonous needs could be satisfied, as if they needed another copy of the same high-waisted jeans they kept buying. Tragic, really.

     Now I was forced to go to the depleted area of downtown every day to practice combat. What was I supposed to do? My best friend, Fernando, had stuck with me for ages when it came to the training, I couldn't leave him now. He also stuck with me when my father developed Alzheimer's. Without Fernando, I wouldn't have been able to overcome the the past.

     I would give my life for him, and he would do the same for me. When you have a friendship like that, you keep it. And I wasn't willing to lose ours over a gym membership.

     A text rang out at me from my best friend himself, "I'm going to be late. Start training with Isaac."

     I snickered, classic Fernando. I went up to the crossing light and approached the entrance. Peeking inside, I could see punching bags lined up and down the ceilings and walls of the gym. Expensive equipment filled up any extra space. Surprisingly enough, barely anyone was inside. I couldn't believe the diamond gem. After opening the door, a gust of cold air pushed against me, relieving me of the heat outside. A ding rang out, indicating my entrance. I walked further in, meeting the main desk of the gym.

      "Hello! I'm scheduled to begin training today. My name is Amalia," I stated, reaching a hand out to the accountant. She smiled brightly at me and reciprocated the action.

     "I'm Tahna. Let me see who you are going to be training with," She replied, studying and typing away at her computer before yelling, "Isaac!"

     I saw a man run up to the desk briskly. He stared at me, following the top of my head to the bottom of my toes. Not sure how to react, I shifted in place. I rubbed the sweat from my palms against my leggings and extended my arm out again. He shook it, his muscular arm firmly gripping mine and crushing my flailing fingers.

     "Follow me." He gestured forward and I trailed behind him. I had to dodge foam mats and weights that were scattered across the ground. Finally, we reached the very end of the room and he turned around once more. I could finally get a good view of him. He had a bald head and dark eyes that had seen an ambiguous past. His t-shirt and shorts embellished his bulging muscles. The man's intimidating stature was enough to send chills down one's spine.

     "I've heard that you're good."

     I muttered, "Damn right."

     "Show me."

     I nodded and turned to confront the punching bag at my left. I began lightly showing the different techniques I had learned previously. I gradually increased my force I was putting into my punching until the charcoal leather molded beneath my fist. Soon enough, I felt a strand of sweat slide down the back of my neck. Through my peripheral vision, I saw Isaac nod, a sinister smile spreading across his face. After I believed that I had accurately performed, I stopped. My chest heaved up and down and my stray hairs were smoothed down under the beads of sweat that were emitting from my head.

     Isaac reached down and grabbed a water bottle, chucking it at me. After snatching it in my limp arms, I chugged it, the cold liquid traveling down my throat and easing the heat that was coming over me in limpid waves. I attempted to mask my face of disgust by the putrid taste of the water.

     "You get used to the taste after a while. Why don't we fight in the rink?" He said. I stifled my embarrassment when I realized that I hadn't done a good job of masking my distaste. I shrunk down and followed him.

     We reached the boxing rink and got on. This was customary in boxing. I lowered my stance and narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing his position. We began to circle around each other. Riskily, I lunged forward, throwing a punch out. He blocked it and grabbed my arm, twisting it. A cry escaped my lips. Before he let go, I kicked his chest, distracting him. I whipped around again and caught him off-guard with a punch to the face. Isaac stumbled back before regaining his stance. This time, he caught me by surprise by coming towards me. He pressed my back to the ropes surrounding the ring and then flipped me. A groan escaped my lips as he pushed his foot into my core. I peered upwards and his face lowered to mere inches above mine. Suddenly, a pang of nausea and vertigo hit.

     I lethargically raised my wrist, a feeble attempt at unity, and I slurred my cries of help as drowsiness overcame me.

     Through the corner of my eye, I saw Fernando enter the room. He blindly sauntered further in until his foolish grin was masked behind a pure white cloth, forced onto him by a strong, concealed arm. Through all of this, the water bottle that I had eagerly drank lay lamely in the periphery of my vision. The reason for the odd taste of it would only become apparent as time went on: Isaac had laced it with drugs. I was unable to register all that occured, and I peered up at Isaac's face that was hovering above mine. He placed his hand on my jawline and began caressing my cheek with his thumb. I frighteningly gazed up, only to meet his malevolent grin.

     "As you see, I'm not the best at first impressions," He jeered, looking upon me like a predator psychoanalyzing their prey.

     And with that, I fell asleep to the smooth rhythm of his chuckle.

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Liked it? Make sure to let me know by liking and sharing, or leaving a comment down below. Had loads of fun, even though, as you might have already realized, I have no idea how to box. Who do you think it is that is behind all this? Also, I want you all to know that the main character's name is subject to change!! Thank you.