CHAPTER 5 THE STORM BEGINS
1271 Words
The cage door slammed shut behind Jaxon, sealing him inside a dome of steel and sand that smelled of blood, sweat, and the ghosts of violence long passed. The crowd’s roar vibrated through the metal floor, through Jaxon’s bones, through every scar he carried.
Lena pressed both palms against the cage wall from outside, eyes wide with fear and disbelief. She looked trapped by the bars just as much as he was.
Jaxon gave her the smallest nod
Stay calm. I’m here.
Then he turned toward the fighters stepping into the arena.
Ten men.
Each massive.
Each trained by Viktor.
Each desperate to tear him apart.
Viktor stood above them on a raised platform like a twisted king overlooking a sacrifice.
“Welcome back to the ring where you were born,” Viktor announced, his voice booming through speakers. “Tonight, the traitor Jaxon Cross fights for his survival. For his freedom. For the woman he thinks he can protect.”
Lena flinched at his words.
Jaxon didn’t look up at Viktor.
He focused on what mattered
the enemies circling him.
The first fighter stepped forwarda giant of a man called Brutus. Six-four, nearly three hundred pounds, muscles layered like armor. His chest was tattooed with Syndicate symbols, each marking a man he’d killed.
Brutus cracked his knuckles and smirked. “Still alive, Cross? The boss said you’d be trembling by now.”
Jaxon said nothing.
“He also said you lost your edge,” Brutus taunted.
Jaxon lifted his fists, settling into a stance.
“Let’s find out.”
Brutus charged like a bull.
Jaxon sidestepped at the last second, driving an elbow into the giant’s throat. Brutus stumbled but didn’t go down. He swung his enormous fistJaxon slid under the punch and slammed his knee into Brutus’s ribs, once, twice
The giant grabbed him mid-motion, lifting him clean off the ground and hurling him across the cage.
Jaxon crashed into the steel mesh, the impact ripping pain through his ribs. The crowd roared louder.
On the platform, Viktor smiled.
Lena screamed, “Jaxon!”
Jaxon forced himself up. Brutus laughed, wiping blood from his lip.
“You’re slower,” Brutus said. “You’re weaker. Should’ve stayed dead.”
Jaxon inhaled, centering himself.
He moved.
This time he didn't dodge Brutus’s charge
He met it head-on.
He ducked under a swing, landed three lightning-fast punches to Brutus’s liver, grabbed the back of his head, and
BAM!
He smashed Brutus’s skull into the steel mesh.
The giant dropped to his knees, dazed.
Jaxon didn’t hesitate.
One more strike
a spinning elbow
Brutus collapsed face-first into the sand.
The crowd exploded.
Lena exhaled shakily, a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God…”
Viktor clapped slowly. “One down,” he said through the speakers. “Nine to go.”
The fighters tightened their circle.
Jaxon wiped his mouth, tasting blood. “Who’s next?”
Two men rushed him at once.
Jaxon spun, blocking the first man’s kick, redirecting the second man’s punch with a shoulder roll. He grabbed the second fighter’s wrist, twisted hard, and snapped the elbow backward.
A sickening c***k echoed.
The fighter screamed.
Jaxon pivoted, slamming him to the ground. The first fighter came again, fastJaxon ducked low, sweeping his leg and knocking him off his feet. Before the man could rise, Jaxon drove a heel into his chest, knocking the air out of him.
Two more down.
But the others didn’t retreat.
They charged as a group.
Jaxon’s lungs burned. His body begged him to stop. But he had something to live for, someone to protect. And Viktor had chosen the wrong night to test a man with nothing left to lose.
Another fighter grabbed him from behind in a chokehold. Jaxon slammed his head backward into the man’s nose, breaking it. He slipped free, spun, and delivered a crushing uppercut.
The man dropped.
A hardened fighter with a shaved head lunged with a knife.
Lena screamed, “Jaxon, look out!”
He barely turned in time. The blade grazed his arm, slicing through skin. Blood dripped down his forearm.
Jaxon grabbed the fighter’s wrist, twisted, forcing him to drop the blade. He delivered a punch to the jaw, then a knee to the solar plexus. The man fell gasping.
Three more fighters remained.
These three were smarter, slower, more calculated. They circled him cautiously.
Viktor leaned toward the microphone. “End him. Make it hurt.”
The three fighters attacked simultaneously.
One struck Jaxon’s jaw. He stumbled. Another kicked him in the ribspain flared like lightning. The third slammed a fist into the back of his shoulder.
Jaxon staggered, nearly falling to his knees.
Lena’s voice cracked. “Jaxon, get up! Please!”
Her desperation fueled him.
Jaxon caught the next punch coming his way, twisted the man’s arm, and drove a knee into his gut. He used the collapsing fighter’s momentum to flip over another attacker, landing behind him.
He punched the man’s kidney
once,
twice,
three times
The man went down.
Two left.
The next fighter threw a high kick, connecting with Jaxon’s jaw. Stars burst in his vision. Jaxon stumbled backward, tasting iron. The fighter stepped closer, ready to finish him
Jaxon lunged suddenly, grabbing the man’s leg, twisting it with a violent snap.
The man roared in pain and collapsed.
One fighter remained.
A tall, tattooed man named Kade. Deadly. Focused. Silent.
He and Jaxon circled each other, a quiet tension humming between them.
Kade spoke softly. “You shouldn’t have come back.”
Jaxon steadied his breath. “I didn’t come back. I came to end this.”
They collided.
Punches flew like lightning.
Sand kicked up under their feet.
The sound of their strikes echoed in the steel cage.
Kade was fastmaybe faster than Jaxonbut he lacked something Jaxon had:
Purpose.
Jaxon blocked a right hook, countered with a blow to the jaw, followed by a swift kick to the knee. Kade grunted, stumbled, then tackled Jaxon to the ground.
The crowd roared.
Kade pinned him, raining punches down on his face.
Jaxon’s vision blurred.
He tasted blood.
He felt his strength slipping.
Lena screamed his name again and again.
The world began to fade
Until he thought of Lena being dragged away by Viktor.
Of her scream.
Of the look in her eyes.
That image lit a fire in him.
Jaxon roared.
He exploded upward with raw strength, flipping Kade onto his back. He climbed over him and unleashed a barrage of punches.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four
Kade’s head hit the sand and he went limp.
Silence hung for a moment.
Then the crowd erupted into madness.
Jaxon staggered to his feet, chest heaving, blood dripping from his face and arm.
He’d done it.
Ten fighters lay broken in the cage around him.
Jaxon turned toward Viktor.
“Is that all you’ve got?” he shouted, voice raw.
Viktor’s smile didn’t fade.
He raised one hand.
The lights in the arena dimmed.
Spotlights shifted.
A hidden door cracked open on the far side of the arena.
And out walked a man Jaxon had hoped never to see again.
A man bigger, stronger, and more monstrous than any fighter in Viktor’s stable.
A man Jaxon once called brother.
The crowd gasped.
Lena’s heart dropped into her stomach.
Jaxon froze.
Viktor’s voice boomed:
“Round two, Jaxon.
Face the one you left behind.”
The fighter stepped into the light
Rafe Cross.
Jaxon’s own brother.
Alive.
Twisted.
Unrecognizable.
Jaxon’s voice broke.
“Rafe…?”
Rafe didn’t answer.
His eyes were empty.
Trained.
Broken.
Viktor laughed.
“Surprise.”
“ ”
- Writer
