Highest rankings:
#1 in Samcedes
#28 in Glee
In an illegal underground fight club, Sam's one of the best kickboxers, even though he hates what he does. Unfortunately, he has to win the biggest championship ever to escape the clutches of The Killing...
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The stench of sweat, alcohol, and blood lingers everywhere in the huge underground area, the loud sounds of cheering almost drowning out the spokesperson. Two muscular men, wearing only boxing gloves and loose, easy-to-move-in pants, were breathless yet full of energy as they attempted to strike the other man down.
"And there goes Evans once again with his infamous uppercut then roundhouse kick!" The announcer yelled in the microphone over the screams of the crowd.
Sam smirks, bringing one of his fists to guard his face and his other fist a little lower - parallel to his neck. He narrows his eyes at his enemy, Schuester (Schue for short), and watches as the other man lunges for his right.
Sam shoots up his right hand to block, but then Schue swiftly changes direction at the last moment to grab Sam's left wrist.
"Son of a-" the blonde grunts, his eyes closing for a millisecond. He cries out in pain as he hears a crack from his left hand.
He stumbles back, clutching his arm close to his chest. He's ready to give up when he remembers why he's even in there in the first place.
With a newfound motivation, he straightens his standing position. The throbbing pain of his left hand possibly being broken numbs from his sheer determination and adrenaline.
"I'm going to bash your head in, you hear me?" Sam seeths, glaring at the referee that asks him if he can still fight. "Of course I can fucking fight! I'm standing ready, aren't I?"
The referee looks conflicted, but from one sharp look given by Sam, he backs off, allowing the blonde to finish his match.
Schue sets his jaw as he lunges again, surprised to see Sam still standing and seemingly unaffected by such a harmful attack. Sam sidesteps easily, rolling his eyes at how sloppy Schue's attacks were becoming.
The curly haired opponent trips comically over Sam's foot before falling splat on his face onto the concrete.
A gasp runs through the crowd as they witness blood oozing from Schue's nose. The two emergency doctors grab him and haul him up, while Sam stretches his arms up victoriously. The referee pats his back, declaring Sam Evans the winner.
The surprised silence soon evaporates into shrieks of pure delight. Sam ignores the pain from his left hand and walks back to his personal room, slinging a towel around his neck to clean off his sweat.
Still pulsing with adrenaline from the match, he jumps into the shower for a few minutes, replaying the previous events.
How could he be so stupid to not react in time to the punch? Schue totally played dirty, but in The Killing Machine tournament, there were no rules. Hell, Sam could've gotten away with killing Schue if he really wanted, but the blonde had some sort of morals. Besides, the faster he wins his matches, the faster he could get the hell out of there.
