The Ghost (Ghost #1)

Chapter 1

Ghost

I brace myself for the impact of the hit, as it's too late to avoid it now. The fist hits me straight in the ribs and I feel the snap of the bones, fuck, he either bruised or broke my ribs. It will take weeks to heal enough for me to work again. Good thing I still have the money from the last time.

I kick my leg into his torso, my shin hits his stomach, making him fold himself trying to regain his breath. I use his position to my advantage and hit him with my elbow in the back of his neck, effectively knocking him down.

The audience roars with cheers, screaming my name and trying to at least touch me as I leave the cage and cross the room to get my reward money. My ribs are hurting, but no one can see me grimacing in pain under my skull mask. I can't show weakness. The second I do it, someone will try to use it against me.

That's why I live alone, I keep to myself, wear a mask, contact lenses during the fights and have my hair dyed each time. I can't have anyone getting too close to me and risk getting hurt in the process.

Anything can be a liability. I should know. Everyone I ever loved were used to get to me. I had to abandon them and make everyone believe I want nothing to do with them anymore.

It didn't help.

I still lost them.

Every.

Single.

One.

Of.

Them.

Family? Gone.

Friends? Gone.

Acquaintances? I don't even know what happened to them.

I go to the MC and take the money from him. The bag is quite heavy, I won a lot tonight. It should take care of my expenses for a while, until my ribs heal completely. I don't risk fighting when I'm injured. It can cost me life. If my opponent found out I'm injured, they would try to hit the place to hurt me more and win. At least that's what I would do.

I look back to the ring to see the janitor wiping the scarlet substance off of it. Scarlet. The color of blood. One of my names. No one knows my birth name, though. I would never tell them. Everyone knows me as Ghost, Scarlet Beast. Each of my fights is bloody. Sometimes they are deadly, but the public seems to like it. The more brutal the fight, the higher the bets and the more money I get.

As I go towards the exit, some of my "fans" try to touch me. They should know better. I hate being touched. I always scrub my body clean after each fight only to get rid of the feeling of someone's touch on me. If any of them as much as put a finger on me, they will fucking lose it. The bodyguards assigned to escort me out try to do as much as they can to help me leave in peace, knowing well how it will end if they're not careful.

I never understood what those people like about me. It's one thing to put your life on the line to earn a living, but to watch it as a form of entertainment is unimaginable to me. You pay to watch people try to destroy each other confined in a small cage without a way out.

That's right, you can't surrender and get out of the fight. There are special 'guards' watching the place to 'handle' anyone trying to disrupt the fight, even if it's the fighter. I only discovered it about 3 months ago. To say I was surprised would be an understatement of the century.

They would never kill ME, though. I have an impeccable reputation. Many owners of those fighting rings want me to fight at their places, it would increase the sales, as they call it. The one and only Ghost fighting in their club is an honor not many have experienced. If I like the place, I usually don't change it until I get bored of it or the owner gets under my skin too much.