literature

Lights Out

Deviation Actions

Published: Jul 30, 2013

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Literature Text

Lights are fading in and out. Camera flashes are burning his blurred sight, as the noise of the cheering crowd diminishes into a buzzing in his ears over which a static, dull squeak is persistently muting every sound around him. His heartbeats are pumping in his temples and it feels as if his blood vessels are about to rip the skull into pieces. The heavy breath barely makes it out of his lungs and equally heavily gets back into his body. Blood mixed with sweat slowly rolls down from a cut on his eyebrow, dipping his right eye in that red creek before slowly dropping on his chest.Through his dizzy vision he can barely make out his location in space and if not for the chair, he would be definitely lying on his face now.

Suddenly somebody from behind puts a sponge with ice cold water on his head; the water rolls down his face and neck onto his back, making a shiver run over his weary muscles. This refreshes him and makes the dizziness fade away. He starts to distinguish the white mats beneath his feet with bloodstains on them, the tricolor ropes bordering the ring, a girl walking along them holding up a number "9" above her head, and, at the opposite side of the ring - a massive creature with a shaved head, tribal tattoos starting at his back and rolling down his shoulders, a swollen left eye and gloves covered in blood - his blood.

The opponent's face is staring directly at him, the aggression in those eyes almost burning a hole in his face. He shakes his head, trying to concentrate. The coach's words start to break through the buzz in his ears, while the cutman is working on that eyebrow to stop the bleeding. Out of everything the coach says, he can only make out "You got knocked down in the last round, kid" and "Don't let him get close to you" along with several disrupted words such as "jab", "distance", "keep", "use" and stuff like that. He still hasn't recovered from that knockdown in the last seconds of the previous round, and the half of the 60 second break is already gone.

The cutman has finally managed to stop the bleeding and is now spreading vaseline on his cheekbones and around the eyes. The coach has stopped giving instructions and now is looking at him awaiting a response, to which he automatically nods and opens his mouth to put the mouthpiece back. The cornerman leans forward to take away the chair, and just before getting up he looks at the opposite corner, only to find the same grin staring back at him. He meets that face with a grin of his own, even though his heart skips a beat because of those eyes.

The bell rings and the fighters move towards each other. He immediately throws a jab and misses an inch, after which gets a round of several counter punches, all of which meet his hands blocking his head. He lets down the block, and his opponent, who is more like a beast at that moment, throws a powerful straight punch at his head, wanting to quickly finish this fight. Somehow he manages to dive under that shot and counters his opponent's stomach with 2 sharp punches to the liver. The start of the ninth round is a good one for him, because after being knocked down, he feels an urge to prove to the crowd and to himself that he can win this fight and those two clean punches are nothing else than a claim that he is back in the game.

After taking those shots to the stomach his rival clinches him immediately. He can feel the smell of sweat and gym as the wet skin is pushing against his nose and the heavy arms of the beast are 'hugging' him, doing their best to minimize the distance between the two fighters and avoid additional punches. He is already out of breath again, and the clinching opponent is making it even harder for him to breathe. Completely exhausted, he tries to push him off and continue throwing punches but feels completely powerless. And while holding him, his foe throws hidden punches to his kidneys, strong enough to make him hurt. After a few seconds the referee interferes and breaks the clinch.

The seeming advantage that he had at the beginning is now gone along with his breath, and he is now struggling to survive again, as his angered rival unloads a waterfall of punches all over his body. He covers up and tries to counter some of them, but he is too dazed to move fast enough, and his attempts end up in clean shots being recorded for his opponent. He barely makes out the screams from his corner "Keep those hands up! Get Out of there and stay on the OUTSIDE!", thinks to himself "If I could, I would" and keeps dodging those punches and moving his head, making his opponent miss several shots.

Eventually his rival gets exhausted of all that punching and a window opens for him to attack, which he does - a left hook followed with a right one. He misses the first and the second one hits the opponent's gloves covering the head. He at once throws a jab which misses the head by an inch and then again sends a right hook which, this time, meets the opponents head, followed with a straight left again to the head and a final right straight to finish him off.

He feels how his fist crashes on the face of his opponent, how the vibrations from the head go through his fist then through his arm and dissolve into the ground through his feet, and how the vibrations from the falling body of his rival rise up his feet and into his chest - a knockdown.

1...

He is walking back to a neutral corner, trying to recover his stamina. He's completely out of breath, and if not for that knockdown, he might've been knocked down himself.

2...

He looks at the beast he just sent to the ground; it is angry and disoriented. He appears to be having trouble with getting up easily, but this clearly isn't going to be a knockout. He predicts that the beast will be standing at the count of eight or nine, just because it too needs to get some rest.

3...

He looks around the ring - the crowd is cheering and applauding. He takes a look at all the people watching the show as cameras flash in front of him. He covers his eyes from an unexpected burst of light just from below the ring and turns around leaning on the ropes. His breath is still uneasy.

4...

His opponent's coach is yelling from the corner, trying to help the beast get up, like he needs that help, for he is already sitting and preparing to rise on his feet. The coach from his corner shows signs of approval and tells him to keep staying on the outside till the end of the round no matter what. He nods indicating that he understood.

5...

The beast rises.

This knockdown was a manifestation of the fact that he really can win this fight, despite the fact that he's clearly losing it by points. His opponent is raging, but the body is failing the beast, who can't properly focus on him and is still dizzy. Feeling high because of his recent success, he pushes forward to score a knockout and rushes at his foe. He throws a jab - a miss. Then a straight - missed. Then jabs again - blocked. Tries closing in and throwing a combination of hook - hook - uppercut, but gets greeted with the opponents own jab - jab - straight, all three punches landing perfectly on his face. He feels every bone in his skull shake after every single punch, and the last straight leaves a shuddering echo in his brains as he stumbles back trying to stay on his feet.

Another punch - another concussion. He falls on the ropes, and if not for them, the referee would be counting again, and this time it would reach the ten count. Getting himself together as fast as he can, he covers up and takes another beating from an angered beast who again unleashes hell on his body as if a second breath suddenly came to him. Shots land on his stomach, on his sides, on his head, and no matter how well he covers up, they still hurt - he has clearly angered the monster. Blood starts dripping on the mats - his cut is open again; and if he doesn't stop taking this violent punishment, the referee is likely to stop the fight, giving a technical knockout victory to the bald animal, and he just won't have it, not after his last TKO...

He swings his body from side to side, trying to dive under his rival's shots, and throws several quick jabs just to push the opponent away and move aside from the ropes. It seems to work; the beast leans back to avoid the jabs, so he throws a powerful straight along with the last jab, which lands perfectly on his opponent's chin. The crowd bursts, as the beast stumbles back and opens up yet for another attack. All bleeding but highly intoxicated by that sudden change of places, He makes a leap for the beast and badly misses with the right hook; his opponent dives under his fist and appears right behind him. When he turns around, a big punch greets his face; his mouthpiece flies out of his mouth and he barely manages to cover up from the second big hook. A powerful uppercut lands on his stomach as he throws a jab with a straight at his opponent, before covering up again. Now a single heavy punch to his head may result in unforeseen loss of teeth, and he just won't have it, just like he won't have the technical knockout victory being scored for the tattooed monster.

The wooden clapping sound indicates the last ten seconds of the ninth round. On hearing that, he just starts to move about the ring, keeping his distance with the jab and covering up as much as he can - it's all about surviving this ten seconds and making it to the corner to get fixed again. But his feet and his breath are failing him; the latter has been long gone already, and the feet are beginning to give in to weariness. As a result he gets caught in the corner and the last five seconds of the round are spent beating anything possible out of his exhausted body.

The bell rings. He drops himself on the chair and everything starts all over. The coach is yelling something to him, but the dull high pitch sound in his ears again makes it hard to hear anything except for his heartbeats. The cutman is working his magic on that bleeding cut, while he tries to catch his breath back into his lungs. The one minute passes like a few seconds, and before he knows, he's already standing in the ring again, and punches are flying at him.

He spends the first minute of the tenth round trying to get back into the rhythm of the fight. His opponent chases him around the ring and punishes him every time he makes a single mistake of trying to attack the crazed beast. He feels like being in a cage with a hungry bear, which is trying to eat him alive. He doesn't understand where his opponent's energy comes from; he is completely wasted and barely drags his feet along the ropes, while the beast seems to be reborn again and his every punch creates violent vibrations throughout his whole body. His coach is yelling at him what to do, but he is too busy staying alive to make out the secret magic with the help of which he'll turn things around. Almost half of the tenth round has passed, and he can no longer breathe, his shoulders are numb and he can't move them anymore. The weariness in his muscles takes its toll and before he even notices it, his hands are no longer up. The rival immediately takes the chance, and a combination of jab - straight followed with a powerful left hook and a right uppercut to his chin does its job - The ground hits him back as he hits the ground again.

1...

"Get up! Get up, goddammit!!!"; his body ignores the call from his coach. His sight is blurred and he can only see big circles of light on the ceiling.

2...

He can taste blood in his mouth. His body is crumbling, his head is about to explode. He lazily spreads his body on the mats.

3...

He slowly rolls over and suddenly realises that he's lying on the mats. The flashes are burning his eyes, he tries to breathe but his lungs have become of steel. He blinks chaotically, trying to get the focus back into his mind and take control of his body.

4...

Having realized what's going on, he reaches his hand for the ropes, grabs them and tries to pull himself up. His hands fail him as the rope slips off his glove and he crashes on the mats again without even getting halfway up.

5...

His will departs. He wants to stay lying on the mats and let the referee count it. He's had enough. Enough of that huge monster, enough of its beating. At least it won't be a technical knockout... And just as he's about to let go, the crowd suddenly starts to chant his name. Almost half of the audience is screaming, yelling, cheering and pushing him up. A shiver runs through his body. Never in his life a moment as glorious as this has filled him. His eyes get wet as he hears his name flying in the air from the mouths of so many strangers. He gathers his will in his fists and pushes on.

6...

A faith in his own strength fills him. Now he won't give up that easily. Not after knocking that beast down, not after being knocked down himself. He's got to give him hell, give him all he's got. With great effort, he pulls himself together and throws his hand at the ropes again.

7...

Pushing himself with his free hand off the ground and pulling himself up with the other, he begins his ascension. Sweat is pouring from him like a waterfall, there's blood all over his shorts. The concentration is so high that the veins on his temples have popped out and he himself looks like one tight muscle pulling his body up.

8...

With enormous effort he leans on his right leg and pushes off the ground with it, helping himself to rise to his feet. The crowd bursts in applause and chants his name even more enthusiastically. Seems like the whole universe has just turned to his favour, and all he needs to do to win this fight is to put his left leg on the ground and rise his body to face his foe for the final minute of the final round and give him hell.

9...

He stands...

The referee approaches him and looking in his eyes asks if he can continue. He nods confidently, then, with a smile of a future victor, focuses his eyes on the beast, as the crowd chants his name and pushes him onward. The beast is standing in a neutral corner all crazed up, waiting to jump on him and tear him apart. He stands proudly in the ring, feeling the power arising in his chest; he's going to give him hell. The referee gives the sign; the two fighters close in on each other. The beast prepares to throw a powerful straight at him; He confidently prepares to dodge it. The punch flies...

...At least it wasn't a technical knockout.

Here's an experimental short-read unofficially named "Rocky: The Truth" to dilute my recent romantic/emotional 'one-page-fitting sufferings'.

For those of you unfamiliar with boxing
Jab - a straight punch with the left hand (right hand if you're left-handed)
Straight - a straight punch with the right hand (similarly - left hand if you're a lefty)
Hook - A punch from the side both with left and right hands resembling a 'hook'
Uppercut - a punch with both left and right hands that starts near the stomach and rises to meet an opponents chin.

I've been thinking how to end this story, and the only original thing that came to my mind was this. Any suggestions and feedback is more than welcome!