The Iron Hallway

Chapter 27

"Baird Amergin, I recognize you all too well." Dirk commented calmly, seemingly ignoring my raging countenance. 

"I recognize you too, you bastard! You stole my girlfriend! You ruined my life! And now, you've ruined Khemera's! Well, I plan to ruin yours as well!" 

With a shout, I lunged at Dirk, managing to tackle him to the ground in my fury and causing the bloody knife to clatter to the ground. With one quick movement, he shoved me away and rolled out of reach. He stood up and kicked me in the head. 

The blow was extremely painful, but I was determined. I leapt back to my feet and kicked him in the leg. To my surprise, he howled in anguish and stumbled away. Somehow, he was bleeding from a simple kick, which perplexed me. 

Not wishing to give up my advantage, I ran up to Dirk again and swung a punch at him. He blocked this one and punched back, hitting me in the belly. I stumbled away while gasping for breath. He took this time to stand up, grab me by the shoulders, and head-butt me. 

My vision blurred for a few seconds, and while I was dazed, Dirk snatched me up and hurled me into the pile of crates. My ribs made first impact, smashing the corner of one wooden box and causing me immense pain as well. Then I rolled down onto another container, where I hit my head on the corner and cut my hand when I stretched it out to stop my tumble. 

I grunted and rose again. I snatched up a heavy crate of my own with quite a struggle and hurled it at my opponent. He stumbled back as it broke open on his helmet and cracked it. A bazooka clattered out of the box and rolled several feet away. 

Before he could think to use the weapon, I rushed through the rubble to face Dirk once more. Once I was in reach, he punched me in the face. I spat blood and dropped to the ground beside Khemera. With a grimace, I rose again and swung at my opponent. He dodged and kicked me in the chest. I stumbled back, but didn't fall this time. 

I ran at Dirk again, but he side-stepped and tripped me with his foot. I barely caught my fall, but once I did save myself, I rose to meet him again. The scarlet-clad fighter growled and punched me several times in the head, causing bruises and swelling all over. He finished the flurry with a hit to the ribs, in the same spot the crate had got me. 

"Now, for your own sake, stay down. This is one fight you can't win." Dirk ordered sternly. 

Just to spite him, I leapt to my feet again and kicked him in the leg. He grunted, but I hadn't hit the right spot, so my intended debilitation had failed. Instead, he grabbed the back of my head and brought it down to his knee. Shoving his foot into my chest, he sent me sprawling onto the floor again. 

"I warn you again, if you get up again, you're gonna regret it." 

I coughed and grunted. My body argued vigorously against my notion of rising yet again. But I won the battle in my mind, and forced by body to cooperate. I rose and swung another blow, this time at Dirk's shoulder. He easily blocked. 

"I warned you, Amergin. Here it comes." 

An overwhelming flurry of the most devastating punches, kickes, and body slams followed. Dirk never eased his attack for a second, hitting my every pressure point, all my previous sores and bruises, and creating new wounds as well. Before my nerves could alert me to the presence of a new pain, three more were added. My agony grew exponentially. 

Dirk finished with a powerful kick to my belly. I fell on my hands and knees before my opponent, prostrated and wounded. Blood trickled from my mouth. My hair also was damp from the flowing ichor. My entire body was one throbbing mass of injured flesh. In fact, I lacked strength to the point where even lifting my head became an impossibility. I could do nothing but hang it in defeat and stare at the growing puddle of blood beneath me.