I can do this. I can do this.

Armed with my metal baseball bat, I clutch the handle in a deathly grip. I briefly wonder if my overconfidence in my abilities will be my downfall. I did have a black belt in karate, but I have never actually put any of my techniques to use. I have only sparred with my sparring partners, who are usually my brothers. It is ingrained in my mind to never use karate for anything but self-defense. I should never use it to harm someone, nor use it for selfish reasons.

Okay, I may have also showed off a little bit with some nifty tricks in soccer.

I briefly pause as i reevaluate everything. What if I end up entering into something I should not be entering into? Why am I even coming here and risking my life for Mason?I lower my bat and contemplate as I stare at the abandoned building behind the multitude of trees and a metal-linked fence. It is too late to turn back now. Plus, seeing this building, it has awakened the dangerous beast within me. My curiousity has been piqued and whenever that happens, I cannot stop myself from wanting to know what has happened.

From the outside, it just looks normal. I would have guessed it to be some sort of closed, run down factory. It is actually more secluded than I expected. Whatever this factory used to be, it required a lot of space since there are not many buildlings around here. There is nobody around and nothing to hear: a perfect murder scene waiting to happen if you ask me. I glance at my GPS to make sure I am in the correct location.

I walk alongside the fence, searching for some sort of opening. There must be one if Mason supposedly comes here a lot. I would climb the fence except it is at least twenty feet tall? I do not know how sturdy it is. At least, i see an opening under the shadows of a tree and enter.

I approach the front door carefully, holding the bat once more. Leaning forward, i twist the handle of the metal door, which is locked. it requires a lot of strength to knock down a door and i would rather enter discreetly. Going to the side, I search for an opened window or door around. I stop abruptly as I hear a whistling coming around the corner. Peeking past the wall, I see a man guarding a door as he whistles casually. He looks like a fitness trainer with his confident strides and built frame. Perhaps he could be one of those friendly gym trainers you would encounter on daily basis with the exception of his gun in his belt and another in his hand.

I have never been trained to fight against someone with a gun. Well, technically i kind of have but I would rather not face some dude who could kill me. I back up and retrace my steps. This time I realize I missed something. I glance upwards and notice an opened window. The tree to the left is just tall enough for me to climb and jump into the window.

After several minutes longer than I expect, I manage to enter the window. With cautiousness, I cling onto the window frame before glancing inside. I am in a storage room. I let go and land softly on my toes. The storage room looks fairly used as I see a lack of dust. This time the doorknob to the door opens easily as I exit.

Okay, maybe I did not think things through completely. As soon as I open the door, I realize I must have been too much in my thoughts to notice the loud roaring of a crowd right outside. There are people, a lot of people, right outside. Luckily, there seems to be something going on so everyone is faced the other way. I slip easily into the crowd and thank that nobody saw me. That was a close call. I squeeze through the people as they yell and scream. I try to hop a bit to see past the heads. No luck.

There are four makeshift bleachers with bystanders sitting on it. If i imagine it correctly, the bleachers are formatted into a square facing the middle. No, it is a diamond. There are more people standing around the area. I try to make out the words of the chants, but there are too many things going on.

"Aren't you a bit young?" Someone comments as I accidentally step on his foot. I glance at the speaker.

"Look who's talking," I smirk in reply. This dude looks like he could barely pass as the same age as me with his lanky frame and young face. I would call him a baby face. Okay, he is not too bad looking but he just has that youthful innocence in his eyes which makes him all that more younger. I, on the other hand, could pass as a few years older.

"I'm twenty one years old." He frowns with a frustrated tone. I suspect this is not the first time he has been teased with his appearance and age.

"Sure you are," I nod.

"I am!" He grumbles and then turns toward the audience again. I don't know what he's looking at since all I see are heads.

"I arrived late. What's happening?" I shout in his ear amidst the noise ever so casually.

"We have a newbie today. He's going against an old person, Destructor...destruction...something along that name." He writes furiously in his notepad as he tells me.

"What are you writing?" I glance over his shoulder, but he covers it immediately.

"None of your business. If you don't know what's best for you, you should keep your nose out of anyone's business, especially in this place." He harrumphs as he begins to leave.

"Wait, have you seen Mason?" I tug on his shoulder to prevent him from leaving.

His dark eyes narrow into slits. "That's going to cost you."

"Well, if you know Mason, then I'll give you the dough. Otherwise, you ain't getting jack shit." I wrinkle my nose at him.

"I may or may not have heard of the name," he smiles greedily.

I give him a twenty. "Do you mean Machete?" He asks.

I give him a blank look.

"Mason Machete?" He clarifies.

"Sounds like him. What's with the terrible moniker?" I make a face. "He doesn't use a machete right..."

The dude dares to give me the look "gimme yo money." I grab his collar and pull him to me. "Dude. You tell me what I want to know, or else you're going home with injuries that twenty dollars won't cover." He nods meekly. "Now, where is he?"

He points to a direction toward the middle. Great, his directions narrows everything down. I let go and shove him aside, pocketing my twenty in the process.

"Excuse me," I repeatedly grunt as i shove my way to the front. It is what i expected: a fight ring. Honestly, it's a lot more different than I expected. Hearing about it is one thing, but actually experiencing it is a different matter.

I can at least make out the words right now. However, they only continue to deafen me further with their shrieks. Gosh, these people are bloodthirsty. Every squirt of blood riles them further as they place bets on the opponents.

I search around the arena, if you can even call this an arena. I don't see Mason anywhere. With the injuries from yesterday, he shouldn't even be here. I guess I think I have experienced enough to let myself feel too surprised at anything. He probably is a fighter, judging from his injuries. However, there are some injuries and scars on Mason that should not be from fights like these.

I wince as the new opponent is slammed onto the concrete floor by the Destroyer mercilessly. The smaller guy spits out a tooth along with blood as he tries to get up. The Destroyer climbs on top and begins to pummel the guy. I watch, somehow fascinated by the gory sight. My eyes cannot tear away; this must be the reason to everyone feeling so passionate about these fights. There's something primitive to these fights that make attracts us.

"And the winner....THE DESTROYER!" I think a referree raises the winner's arm. The defeated opponent is unconscious and dragged away by a couple guys.

I finally spot Mason in the corner. I think that is him in the black hoodie which covers his face in shadows. He is hunched over as his eyes watch the fights before him. I do not think he is here to fight. He is alone, spectating and observing.

i breathe a small sigh of relief as I observe his clothing attire. He is dressed in dark jeans, hoodie, and battered sneakers. I do not believe he is in the outfit to fight in. I guess my work is done here then? He's alive and well from what i can see.

It comes out of nowhere as our eyes connect. He must have some sixth sense for people staring at him. We lock eyes, and he recognizes me. I watch as anger or alarm? reach his eyes. The narrowing of his eyes certainly means something bad for me. He seems more furious than anything I have seen before.

I gulp in fright and start pushing my way out of the crowd. It is easier than pushing forward at least.

"What are you doing here?" Mason pops out of nowhere and grips my arm tightly.

"Ouch! That hurts!" I tug my arm away and rub the skin. it's already beginning to bruise, a red mark appearing.

He doesn't even say sorry and pulls me away.

"Get the f**k out of here right now!" He shouts harshly.

"What's your problem?" I jab him in the shoulder.

"Leave." His jaw tightens as he grits the words out.

"Maybe I want to stay. You have no right to control me in any way." I cross my arms stubbornly.

"You..." He grunts in frustration and takes out a cigarette. He lights it and breathes a long drag.

"You smoke?" I say in shock. From what I knew, he never touched a single cigarette. Actually, he absolutely loathed cigarettes, saying he would never put that "poisonous sh*t" in his body.

"What's it to you?" He snaps. "Do whatever you want. I don't fu**ing care what happens to you. What did you expect me to say to you? You want me to make your nightmares go away? Well, too bad. That's life. Grow up. Just stay out of my way and out of my life." He walks past me, shoving his shoulder against mine roughly.

His words are like daggers. I tell myself it's just words, but that's not true. He hit me where it hurts. I tremble slightly, trying to hold back the emotions and feelings within me. Even if I maintain good composure on the outside, I am still only human. I am still someone who can be hurt. My hands shake almost inperceptively as i breathe shakily. Mentally, I do my counting exercises to calm me down, closing my eyes. I reach for my bat, but I touch nothing. I must have misplaced it somewhere. I grip my clothing instead and try to calm myself. "Hey babe," someone leans toward me. I open my eyes and see a random guy. I have an intense mixture of emotions within me. Before I know it, I punch the guy in the nose and feel a satisfacting crack on impact. I did notice his nose has been broken multiple times before so it doesn't matter that much to me.
I hiss in pain and shake my hands. I glance at my knuckles, red and raw. I have never punched someone barefisted.

"You bi**h!" The guy clutches his nose and rushes at me. I dodge and head towards the exit. I just keep walking and walking. Eventually, my feet get me to my car. I stand there and stare at my reflection in the car.

The girl staring back at me is a stranger. Her eyes look so empty, sad, and alone. That's how I feel right now. I wonder if she is me, or am I her? I glance back at the building where Mason is.
This was a mistake.

I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.

I start the engine and drive on home.