Post by Morgan Payne on Jan 15, 2020 20:03:46 GMT -8
January 13th, 2020
10:00AM
10:00AM
“A’ight so...what’re da rules?”
“There are no rules.”
“What?”
“There are...no...rules.”
The conversation replayed through Morgan’s head as she followed the directions given to her through the town. Tried as she might to not look suspicious, Morgan couldn’t help but feel she was drawing unwanted attention on herself as her sneakers thumped lightly on the concrete. Head down, hood of her black hoodie drawn up as she looked down at the phone in her hand, following the GPS. She was almost there, according to this.
“Well, there are a few rules.”
“Haha, ya forget abaht ‘em?”
“Quiet and listen.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re not obligated to complete this. You can end it at anytime.”
“Yeah?”
“Aye. But know this; the moment you quit, you are finished. Training is done. You fail. You go home to your lasses.”
“How do I win?”
“You don’t.”
Morgan Payne stopped in front of an old, rundown looking townhouse building that looked like it’d be better off demolished than left standing there. Four stories tall, looking like it could topple over on it’s own. The place was a goddamn eyesore! She tucked her phone away in her back pocket and walked up the steps, pushing the door open, slowly. As much as she tried to be quiet, the rusted hinges squealed throughout the interior. She kept her hood up as she stepped inside, slowly guiding the door closed behind her and stepped through the main entryway. Her heart began to beat faster in her chest as something in the air just felt...off. She had that gut feeling that she was being watched from somewhere. She tried to walk as quietly as she could but her shoes crunched on bits of broken glass and plaster. A glance at the floor showed her old red stained smeared on the linoleum floor. Was that...blood?!
Morgan stopped in the center of the main entry room and looked around. The elevators were out but there were stairways leading up through doors. There were also hallways on either side of her lined with doors on both sides. Rooms, most likely, but she doubted anyone actually lived here. Then again, who knew? Morgan walked to the opposite end to see out a back glass door but there was nothing to see aside from the rest of the small New York town she’d been driven to for this lesson. This trial. The crunch of glass behind her made Morgan turn around swiftly and she found herself staring back at two men. About average size. One Caucasian. One African American. Both looked in decent shape even under similar mild weather clothing as she was wearing. Morgan had learned from Connor how to basically observe a person’s frame and pick out things about them even if their clothing was meant to hide it. Morgan offered a small smile to greet the men and nodded her chin at them.
“Whatchins up to?”
No answer. The two men exchanged looks and just frowned. The black man shook his head as if to say ‘is she serious?’ They turned back towards her and slowly came forward. So they weren’t in the mood to talk. Okay. Morgan raised her eyebrows and let out a heavy huff as she slowly approached as well. She ended up in between the man with both circling her and Morgan turning. She positioned herself so that they were only on either side. Never in front of behind her. Another lesson she remembered.
“I don’t?”
“You don’t. You survive. You persevere. You keep going. You keep fighting. No matter what happens in there, you never...ever...quit. Do ya understand me, girl?”
“I think so, but…. How long does it last?”
“Heh. How long?”
“Yeah….”
“Until your body decides it can’t.”
To her right, the Caucasian of the two let out a sudden yell as he stepped in and swung wide for a haymaker. Morgan acted fast, ducking and weaving under it, before coming up and catching him square in the side of the face with a bony elbow. The man staggered, grabbing his ear as the African American rushed in. He threw a similar attack but with the opposite arm. Morgan brought her hands up to brace for the impact then snapped her arm closest to him inward and drove her elbow right into his sternum. The air left him in a wheezing groan. Morgan reached around with one hand to the back of his head while he was still losing breath and yanked his head down. Her knee came up with a crunch as it connected to his nose. He hit the floor but before she could capitalize, his friend was back. The Caucasian one threw wild punches out in front of him, trying to catch the small woman with anything he could throw. Morgan backstepped, not desperately, but using footwork Connor had been teaching her. For each aimless punch that came her way, one of her arms swung up, around and down across the man’s forearms to effectively bat his fists away. She continued this until she soon saw an opening and brought both hands down, catching the man in a pressure point on his wrists that made him open his hands as he winced in pain. Morgan grabbed his thumbs and yanked outward with an audible CRACK and the man yelped out in agony a split second before Morgan left the ground in a vertical leap, driving her knee up into his face. He hit the floor. He was done. At a second glance, his friend was down for the count as well.
Morgan pulled the hood back and stared at the two wide eyed. Did she really just do that?! Tugging the sleeves of her hoodie up, she moved up the stairs to the second floor. As soon as she reached the top, she turned to find three figures obscured by the light of the window behind them coming out of a hallway. Each man looked like they were wielding something in their hand. A blunt weapon of some sort. It looked like a stick, a bat and a hammer. Ballping at that. Two blunt sides. Nothing sharp. Morgan saw them and they saw her. The only difference was, she was unarmed. Shit. She looked across to another door and just went for it. As soon as she bolted, she heard three sets of footsteps coming her way fast.
“Get the bitch!”
Morgan made it to the door she’d picked out and shouldered it open as she turned the knob. She managed to slam it shut and pull what looked like an old, heavy space heater in the way to block it off. The door gave a little as the three began throwing their bodies into it. Morgan backed up, checking her surroundings as she did. She was in one of those hallways with the doors on each side; each one was numbered. Old apartments she would guess. Morgan began trying door after door. Locked. Locked. That one was locked. This one was locked. They were all locked. She finally made it to the deadend of the hallway and tried the last door. Locked. Just as she did, she heard the metal space heater screech across the floor as the three men used their collective strength to push it open and gain access into the hallway. Well, now she was trapped. Cheese and crackers. Something caught her eye out of her peripheral vision. Morgan dared a quick glance. Fire extinguisher. She grabbed it and turned her focus back on the three. They were approaching slowly, casually. After all, she was trapped and had nowhere to go but through them. If that was it? Fine! Morgan held the extinguisher at her side and began approaching her pursuers. She walked faster and faster down the hallway until she picked up into a run. A guttural shriek left her lungs as she brought up and THREW the fire extinguisher right at the front man’s head. He ducked, but it smashed one of his buddies square in the face. Morgan dove and rolled under the swing of the man’s stick. In the better light, it looked like a police baton. She swung her legs around, catching the man she hit with the fire extinguisher in a scissorhold leglock and brought him down. This was the man with the baseball bat which she snatched up.
“And they’re gonna have weapons?”
“Aye. But what they use, so can you.”
Morgan held the bat like a rifle the way she saw often in movies and smashed the fallen man right in the face again with his own weapon. She spun around, bringing the bat up just as the one with the hammers came in. Fucking hammers?! Really?! She parried one over head swing from one hammer and barely managed to dip back to avoid an incoming swing from the side aimed at her ribs. Without wasting another second, Morgan shot out her foot and took out the man’s knee with an inside stomp. The leg buckled and the man lost balance. She quickly switched her grip to two handed on the handle of the bat and brought it down on the inside of one of his elbows. One hammer hit the floor, dropped by its wielder. He swung outward with the other hammer and Morgan dropped to her knees, swinging for the fences to the inside of his other knee. She heard a crack and a loud “FUUUUCK” bounced off the walls of the hallway they were in. Morgan pushed herself up, gripping the bat on either end and rammed the pommel of the handle in an uppercut strike into the man’s chin. She was a little surprised when blood shot out of the man’s mouth as he fell back.
Not the man with the police baton, however, as he lunged in passed the other two fallen attackers and swung. Morgan brought up her arms to block with the bat but not fast enough and pain shot through her arm as the alloy metal smacked her in the tricep. She cursed and stepped back as he swung again, outward. Again, she tried to parry but he caught her right in the forearm, causing a sharp sting that almost made her worry he’d broken her ulna. He swung in once more. This time she succeeded in parrying and drove the sole of her shoe into his stomach. Now it was her turn as she came in swinging, one handed swinging up and down in a fluid motion, rotating the bat in her hand. Three loud clangs sounded as steel met aluminum before an upper swing caught the man right in the hand and sent his baton flying. He grabbed at his wrist, cursing her for a bitch before she took him right in the face with the bat, sending him into a wall and onto the floor. Morgan kept the bat ready and checked on all three if they were trying to get up. Down for the count. Her heart was beating through her chest and her breath was shaky. She wasn’t tired. No, she had weighted vests and Connor’s wolves to thank her for preparing her stamina level for this, but the adrenaline pumping through her system was making her feel more alert than she’d ever been.
Morgan exited that hallway and made her way through that floor, checking doors only to find them all locked or barred. She knew this couldn’t be over. Connor said until her body decided it couldn’t anymore, so she needed to just keep moving. Or maybe she should hide somewhere? It probably would have been the smarter idea but nobody ever gave Morgan credit for her common sense. She held onto that bat, though. Morgan never understood motherfuckers in movies who would disarm someone and use their weapon against them only to get rid of it when they knew there were more people after them.
Morgan moved up the stairs, finding herself coming into a wide open, square room with old furniture on the walls and a couple of old, broken vending machines. She slowed to a stop when she saw a pair of men coming out one hallway to cut her off. They did so in a manner that was completely calm. Something out of her peripheral vision caught her eye from the right and she looked to see three more stepping out. Two men and a woman this time. What she noticed of them, though, was that three of the men and the women were all dressed identically. Black fatigue pants, combat boots and tanktops. Uniform to each other. The fifth man was...well...he stood out. Worn looking jeans over his boots and a white tanktop. There was a somewhat intrigued yet wild look in his eyes under his transparent rose colored lenses. She’d seen Connor talking to him once before but only ever briefly inquired about who her coach’s friend was.
"That there’s Van Owen. You’ll get to know him."
Well...Morgan guessed this was what he meant.
Van Owen puffed on a cigarette like it were the oxygen he needed to breath. He said nothing. Just let out a “Mmmm” as he savored the flavor. It would have been enough to make Morgan smirk if it were under different circumstances. The three men and woman in black moved in with all eyes on her. Morgan knew they were going to try and surround her. Fuck that shit! Now it was her who ran in at the set of two and started swinging with her bat. One guy practically danced out of the way, leaving his buddy to deal with her it seemed. Even by himself, the man stepped back, weaving out of the way of her swings with almost a sense of ease. Morgan was missing swing after swing but she saw she was backing the man up into a wall. Just before he touched, though, he stepped to the side and Morgan felt a boot hit her in the back as one of the other three hit her with a flying kick, sending her into the wall instead. Her weapon hit the floor and she turned in time to see the woman running up on her and shots came flying. Morgan covered up with her forearms, absorbing what she could of the fists until the girl went for a roundhouse kick. Morgan twisted in, meeting knee with elbow and knocked the girl off balance, grabbing her leg. So Morgan grabbed her around the back of the head, swung her into the wall behind her and got her into a clinch. Then came the knees as Morgan drove shot after shot into the woman’s ribs.
She could feel her opponent starting to weaken when a fist caught her in the face from the side and sent Morgan stumbling away. She turned just in time to see the one responsible coming at her with his hands out. Morgan brought hers up and met the man in a collar and elbow tie up. This guy wasn’t particularly huge but he had enough size compared to her to cause problems if she didn’t act fast.
"When they’re bigger than you...take their fucking leg."
Morgan was being pushed by the bigger man’s size and strength but she managed to turn to keep him between her and the other three to avoid an essential four on one. Just enough time to get the opportunity she needed when the man put the wrong foot forward. Well..wrong for him, right for Morgan as she let go of her hold on his neck and arm and snatched that foot right off of the ground, pulling him off balance as she threw all of her weight into his midsection. On one foot, 130lbs was difficult to withstand when it was being thrown into you. Biggum went down and Morgan rolled across his torso, throwing out her elbow right into his face when she rolled into range. She heard a crunch and the man grabbed at his nose as blood oozed between his fingers. Morgan rolled back off of him and up to her feet as the other two men came rushing right at her. She brought up her guard and took two steps back as they advanced. Wait. Two? No. There were supposed to be three. Where was Van O--?
Morgan felt herself back right into a body and a heavily tattooed arm locked itself in around her neck. She felt another hand press to her forehead, pulling her head back to assure a good hold and the effect almost immediately took place. This wasn’t a choke she found herself in against most wrestlers. The technique was similar but it instantly felt different. Morgan pulled at Van Owen’s forearm around her neck but it wasn’t going anywhere. She stomped back behind her, searching for a foot or a shin but he was guiding her back and around, preventing her from finding anything. The other two remaining men didn’t halt. They stepped right in, taking shots at her ribs until Morgan spent her last bit of energy, springing her feet up off of the ground and pushed off against their chests to knock them back. This was a mistake as it sent her and Van Owen to the floor where he trapped her waist with one leg and cinched the rest of the hold in. Before Morgan knew it, she was fading fast. She raised a shaky hand, considering tapping his arm and submitting.
"Just don’t quit."
That was Aella’s voice in her head. She’d only ever texted it to her back before day 1 of her entire training even started. Somehow, though, she could hear her voice actually saying it.
"Just don’t quit."
Morgan’s hand balled into a fist and she threw back her elbow, driving it into Van Owen’s ribs as hard as she could in her current state. It wasn’t much, granted, and she swore she could hear the man laughing at it. Her vision began to blur as she struggled to breathe…
January 13th, 2020
12:15PM
12:15PM
Morgan opened her eyes groggily and found herself laying in the back of what she recognized as Connor’s car. Or rather the car that Liam drove him around in. She sat up with a groan, looking out the window, realizing she was right in front of the same building she’d gone into. It took her a moment to realize there was a note duct taped her hoodie. Morgan sighed and pulled it off, unfolding it to see what the note said.
Well done,
Now get your ass back in there!
Now get your ass back in there!
Morgan let out another groan, crumpled the note and threw it to the car floor. She unlocked the back door, looking around for any sign of Connor or Liam. Nothing. She sighed, pulling her hoodie off and threw it into the back of the car, shutting the door. Morgan Payne, dressed just as the four individuals with Van Owen, walked up the steps to the townhouse and stepped through that squeaky, rusted door….
To Be Continued....