TAKE ME TO ANOTHER WORLD
1474 Words
James entered through the main entrance of the Institute for Paranormal Studies.
As he passed by doors labeled “Introduction to Magic” and “Vampiric Lore,” the admittedly nerdy side of his personality was intrigued by the prospect of learning about the paranormal.
What excited him most, however, was the opportunity to train at a state-of-the-art facility and test his skills against some of the kingdom’s best fighters.
Despite how he felt about his tryout bout, he had impressed the judges enough to qualify for study with the Institute. Unfortunately, there would be several mandatory classes he would rather not have to take to maintain his place on the active training roster.
Five minutes later, James found Lecture Hall D. Upon entering the room, he saw that it had stadium seating, with over three quarters of the seats filled with people engaged in various conversations.
A red-haired girl four rows up and near the middle of that row motioned for James to come sit with her.
James smiled and climbed the stairs. After several awkward seconds of brushing against people and apologizing, he joined her.
"Hi.” Her voice was sweet and cheerful. “I'm Rebecca. Nice to meet you."
"James. Nice to meet you too. Thanks for saving me a good seat.”
“Don’t mention it. I just wanted to be the first one to welcome Professor Martin’s nephew.”
“How did you know?”
“I was his aid last semester. He was always bragging about you.”
“Really? Julius Martin bragged about me? You think you know a guy.” She shoved him playfully.
“He said you were silly.”
“That I believe. So, if you’ve been here long enough to pick up my uncle’s slack, why are you taking the tour?”
“I just like taking it every few months because they switch things up."
"How many times have you taken it?"
"Um, four, counting this one. I can't help it. I get so excited. Sounds weird, right?"
"Nah. It’s pretty cool that you’re still this excited. Makes a guy look forward to the future.”
Before they could continue further, a man wearing a sweater that fit every stereotype James had of college professors entered the room.
"Good evening class. I'm Professor Oliver." His voice was deep and reminded James of the man who did voice-overs for action movie previews.
"I see some new faces tonight, as well as a few familiar ones. For those that are not skipping a class to hang out with me, I just want to be the first instructor to welcome you to the Institute for Paranormal Studies. Take advantage of everything this school offers. From the mundane to the mysterious, nothing is out of your grasp if you choose to reach for it. Let the journey begin."
Just then, a dozen students entered the hall. He noticed Amara but then his attention was stolen from her by the emergence of Johari.
Professor Oliver droned on about something probably school related while James tried to quiet his inner voice panicking over how he would approach Johari about not making his try out.
“Earth to James.” He looked over to a beaming Rebecca. “You are adorable.”
“What?”
“Somebody has a crush,” she sang just loud enough for him to hear. “You’re not the first. Johari has that effect on most guys.”
“Can't blame 'em.”
“Lucky you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look.” She offered him her tablet.
He skimmed the Orientation section and discovered that, along with about another dozen students, he would be taking his tour with Johari.
“Funny how these things work out,” she told him as she put a hand on his shoulder. “Good luck.”
*
The next few hours flew by in a blur of lectures and freshly waxed hallways.
James had barely digested his dinner as he entered the training room designated for his challenge.
To his surprise and delight, Johari was sitting ringside.
“Hey," he said, immediately cursing his inability to think of anything else.
“Hey you. I was hoping to get you alone. About your tryout, I'm sorry I missed it. Something came up."
“Is that all I am to you? Some thing?"
James and Johari turned in the direction of the voice. On the opposite end of the room, a man dressed in a black Strong Style Unlimited hoodie approached the ring. In one fluid motion, he took another step and leaped onto the fighting mat.
“Johari,” the man continued, “whatever happens, do not interfere.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Just watch. I’ll make it quick.” He then looked at James, “I’m going to try real hard not to break you.”
“Well, that sounds like my cue.” James joined the man in the ring.
Without warning, the man threw a left jab. James parried the blow. The punch had seemed faster than anything James had practiced against, but he had somehow glimpsed it. His body seemed to act on its own as it did once more when he avoided a second and third punch then closed the space between the two of them. James slammed a palm thrust against the man’s blocking arm with enough force to cause the man to stumble.
Even as the hooded man regained his footing, James aimed another punch at the man’s face. It was easily blocked but James slipped his other hand behind the man’s head then yanked it forward.
With both hands on the man’s head, James tried to knee him in the jaw, but the man defended well.
James pivoted to the left and kicked the man in the shoulder.
His opponent shook off the blow and nearly connected with a right hook. James threw three quick punches but the man easily slipped pass them into James’ guard and landed two punches to the gut.
James dropped to one knee but sprang towards the man’s legs and tackled him to the mat.
They scrambled for a moment and James mounted the other man. He only landed a single punch before the downed man swung an impossibly fast fist at him. A burst of white robbed James of his sight as his face exploded with pain.
James’ vision returned just as pain ripped through his midsection. The unguarded kick took his breath away and he rolled away from his opponent.
From the ground, he instinctively kicked at the man’s shin then used that moment to scramble back to his feet.
They traded a few punches and James felt that the man had abandoned any pretense of defense. He was curious as to whether the man had no respect for James’s punching power or just did not mind the pain. That train of thought was derailed by a headbutt that struck just above James’ left eye.
James swung blindly. He felt his opponent’s shin slam into his hip but had the timing and wherewithal to trap the leg. James absorbed another punch to adjust his grip on the man’s leg then used the newfound leverage to take the man to the mat.
His opponent kicked at him but James maneuvered around into a more advantageous position. He elbowed the man in the ribs twice and once in the jaw. From his position, he forced the other man’s arm into a painful and unnatural angle.
Even as James managed to maintain his grip, the man was somehow fighting off the hold. As James’s strained to keep the hold locked in, the the man’s free fist slammed into James' ribs and James would have sworn he felt his organs shift. Two more blows from concrete hard knuckles forced James to abandon the hold altogether.
Slowed considerably by the pain, James was practically defenseless as a wild swing glanced off the man’s chin and a hard kick knocked James to the mat. James tried to will his body to do something, but another kick ended any chance of the fight continuing.
From what seemed like miles away, he heard the faint sound of Johari yelling. He then felt his body being dragged across the ground.
A moment later, he stopped moving. Vision blurred and hearing impaired, he felt a stabbing pain in his neck. As he prayed it was not nerve damage, he felt an eerie sense of calm; then nothingness.
- Writer
