Jordan, the Soldier, yanked the dirty tug-of-war rope from the ground and wrapped it around her large bicep, chuckling at Jasmine, the Writer.
“Lights out, Writer,” Jordan snickered, menacingly.
What’s the point? Jasmine sulked, resting wearily with her head in the mud. Why did she battle Jordan in the first place? There was no defeating the Soldier.
A cage dropped from the ceiling, locking her in with the Soldier. She had no weapon, no plan, no IDEA what the hell she was doing. Jasmine’s worst nightmare had come true. She glanced all around her for a way out, for some advantage.
She jumped to her feet at the sudden burst of Expectation crowding into the arena. Throwing chairs and climbing onto the perimeter of the ring, they pressed their faces maliciously against the cage and chanted the Soldier’s name.
JOR-DAN! JOR-DAN! JOR-DAN!
Come ON, the Writer groaned, helplessly. There’s gotta be SOMETHING!
“Your ass is MINE!” Jordan roared from the opposite end of the ring.
Jasmine cowered against the cage. Hot breath, stench and malice licked the back of her neck.
Think, damn it. Think!
The frantic Writer scrambled to defend herself, but she was overwhelmed by Jordan’s swift attack. In a split second, the Soldier leaped with incredible force and wrapped her legs tightly around Jasmine’s neck, slamming her body effortlessly down on the ground. Wind knocked out of the Writer’s lungs. She felt the stabbing pain in her rib cage as Expectation roared louder. The Soldier gripped her thighs even tighter around the Writer’s throat, constricting the flow of air and blood in her veins.
Jordan relished every minute of it. This was HER arena. She was required to fulfill the Expectation’s call and complete the Mission.
Light from the Writer’s eyes started to fade, leaving behind fuzzy images of the cage and the Expectation surrounding her.
To be continued…