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FF9: Dark Future

Burmecian Fight Club

By XP Author

The man's head slammed into the floor, his body following a moment later. His nose left a smear of blood on the concrete as he bounced off, rolling over once onto his back. The crowd let out a cheer, though many among the drunken rabble threw insults at the fallen rat. A few threw them at the still standing fighter, as well. This was the ninth man the woman had bested that night, remaining undefeated thus far. A few had managed to get a couple of good blows on her, but other than a few marks on her pretty face, and some bloody knuckles, she looked no worse for ware. She held her hands out. "Any more? Who wants to be number ten?"

No one seemed willing to really take her up on her offer. Several of the rats in the crowd shoved each other, taunting friends to go up and get a beating by the sexy woman. A few fights ago, most of them would have readily done it. Now that attempt number nine was being dragged out of the makeshift arena by two others, everyone was much less inclined to have a go. The woman looked around expectantly. The place was the worst kept secret in Burmecia. The bar and illegal fighting club attached to it were at the edge of the city. It was not unusual to see a city guard or two among the crowd, and sometimes even in the pit as fighters. It was far more rare for any of the knights to show themselves here, though. Most were far too stuck up for that. They still turned a blind eye to the bar's existence, however, allowing it for the less savory types to blow off their steam instead of causing trouble in the city proper.

This was not the first time that the bar had seen Hana fighting. The young, cream-colored rodent came every few nights, challenging anyone who would come, and handily mopping the floor with them as a result. She had even started wearing less and less to prove there was no trick to her fighting. What she wore now barely counted as armor. The dark brown leather left little to the imagination, clinging around her middle and cupping ample breasts, but leaving her shoulders, neck, ,midriff and toned arms bare. A loose leather skirt hung barely to her knees, equally toned legs also on display. Only the black cloth covering her nethers gave her any sort of modesty. She had even made a point to not bother with any kind of gloves or leg covers entirely this time.

Hana huffed at the group, running long fingers through her neatly tied blond hair, looking more than a little disappointed. "None? Alright. Guess I'll take my winnings then."

The woman was about to step out of the pit when a voice spoke. "I'll take the bet." The voice was deep and calm, and despite that he did not shout, it was easily heard over the rest of the crowd. Several dozen heads turned to look at the man stepping forward. Average height, only a centimeter taller than Hana herself, though she could not make out much more than that. A red cloak covered his body, hanging down almost to the floor, and the wide brim of his large, brown hat cast a long shadow on his face. He looked like a drifter out of some bad story book.

She put her hands on her hips, giving him a smile. "Well alright then. C'mon up and let's see what you got, stranger." The man grinned, that much she could tell even before he reached up to slide his hat off to reveal a face that was probably once handsome. Now it was marred by a burn scar across the left side, pinkish scar tissue in place of where the tan fur should have been, from his forehead down to his cheek. As he stepped into the square, he shrugged his shoulders to open the red cloak, revealing a body equally as scarred, but still impressively toned. No shirt covered his torso, as he wore only a pair of leather pants that ended above his ankles. Around his waist was a belt with so many daggers hanging from it, one might be tempted to call it a skirt of blades.

"You can call me Dirk." She assumed it was a fake name, though it would not be the first person she's heard of named after a kind of weapon. He unclasped the cloak, letting it fall away to the floor just outside of the fighting pit. "Let me take this off, too." He unfastened the belt as well, the various blades jangling and jingling as he set it down more carefully. "Wouldn't want anyone thinking this wasn't a fair fight, right?" Something about the way he said the word 'fair' set her fur on end.

The fighting pit was about as makeshift as it they came. A square of concrete set apart from the rest of the room, slightly lower than the rest of the floor, a wooden railing surrounded the whole thing like it was a corral or pen for animals. Maybe not too far off. Around the pit was seats and benches, though most of the viewers were standing. Walking among the group was an older rat, his fur more grey than brown now. The bookie collected small wads of gil from everyone willing to place a bet. She figured most were betting against her. They always did. She usually walked away from these nights with quite a haul.

Hana put up her fists, easily sliding into a fighting pose. "Ready when you are, handsome." The man gave her a hungry smile, dark eyes flashing with violent intent. He also slipped into an easy fighting stance, lower and more relaxed than hers. A different style, but she recognized immediately that unlike the usual drunken idiots that squared off against her, this one at least had some skill and experience. Though the belt of blades had also given that away. That was also when she saw the tattoo on his right bicep. The symbol for gil, but inverted, with a simplified and stylized chocobo feather slashing through it at an angle. She was sure she recognized it, but could not place from where.

She let the thought of the symbol slip away as the man started moving, circling to the side. She moved with him, both fighters sizing each other up. The sound of the crowd got louder, but neither heard it anymore, their focus locked solidly on the person in front of them. They both paced to the side, until they had traded places in the pit, not so much as approaching each other yet, much to they annoyance of their audience.

When they did move, it was hard to tell which did so first. Dirk slid forward, Hana moving to match. Fists flew, hers lashing out in a rapid volley of blows, most blocked by him. One or two still managed to connect with his shoulder or chest, but they were light blows, little more than testing. He was definitely good. He retaliated just as quickly, his punches less speedy but thrown much harder. She pushed one away, blocking another with her forearm and regretting it. She did not let it show as she simply shifted to avoid the wide swing with a duck, expecting him to be open to a quick gut punch. She was mistaken as he anticipated her duck, a follow up jab coming right for her now lowered face. She had to shift to the side and back to avoid taking it to the chin.

The encounter lasted only a few seconds, but she already got a read on him in that short time. He was good, clearly knowing what he was doing in a brawl. She would not be able to use her typical tactic of just throwing rapid punches and a kick or two until they fell over. The two started to circle again, a wicked smile on his face, clearly enjoying fighting someone who did not go down so easily. She hated to admit it, but she was already having fun as well.

It was her turn to start the next clash, feinting forward, only to shift to her right. The man instinctively guarded to that side, which was exactly what she wanted. Instead of throwing for the now blocked side, she lashed her left leg out in a powerful swing, her shin catching him on his unprotected side. He barely had a chance to grunt before her follow-through sent him tumbling away. The crowd stared in amazement at the power of the kick. So far, she had barely used her full strength in any of the fights tonight, so this was her first real demonstration. Her legs especially were a force to be reckoned with.

The crowd let out a series of groans. The man had been the first one that seemed to be a challenge for her, but he went down so easily. Then they cheered. Dirk, laying on his back, kicked his legs up, only to flip up onto them and back to standing in one fluid motion. Even Hana had to smile at that. "Okay, color me impressed."

He nodded. "Thank you." He rolled his shoulder. Just as he knew she would, she pushed her advantage on him. Closing the distance quickly, she threw a trio of punches at him. They weren't testing little rabbit jabs this time, but hard straight blows that made his arms tingle even as he managed to block them. When her right leg came up to strike at what she saw as another opening, his arm reached down to catch it, looping around her calf and pinning it against his side. Her bright blue eyes suddenly went wide. "Gotcha."

He spun on his back heel, dragging her with him as he pivoted. Her blow before hand sent him back to the only side of the pit that had a wall, and now he made her pay for it as he swung her hard into the bricks. She yelped as her back smashed against the solid force, bouncing off of it. She would have probably fallen flat on her face if he was not still holding her leg. Instead she tilted forward a little, unstable on the only foot she could put on the ground. He gripped the leg in his grasp and turned to slam her into the wall again.

It was her turn to make him pay for the mistake. Instead of being slammed into the wall, she hopped up, planting her free foot against the wall and pushed off hard. It swung her body around in the air, throwing him off balance now. Her leg swung around to wrap about his shoulders as she moved, twisting her torso almost a full 180 so she faced the ground. Planting her hands on the floor, she continued the motion around. As soon as he let go of her leg, she let go of him, sending him careening away. He crashed against the floor hard, bouncing and skittering across the surface until he ended up hitting the opposite edge of the pit, stopped only by the ledge. She finished her spin with a gymnastic flourish of her own, half-cartwheeling from her handstand to her feet.

The crowd was yelling at the man who was now in a crumpled heap just under their viewing area, shouting for him to get up and not let this bitch get him like that. He ignored them, but did still push himself up. Blood ran from a fresh cut on his forehead where it had bounced off the concrete. "Ha... fuck, this is the most fun I've had in an age." The crowd cheered again as he stepped back into the pit proper. "Haven't been able to cut loose like this in a long time." He slid down into his fighting stance once more. "Been a while since I faced someone who knew what they were doing."

Hana shrugged. "You talk too much." She hopped a few times in places, more just for herself than any actual move, testing to make sure she didn't pull anything doing that little throw maneuver. Everything felt right, so the moment her toes touched the ground on the last hop, she shoved off and forward, launching herself at him like a torpedo. The movement was so fast, to most she was suddenly a streak of off-white and leather brown.

Dirk smiled. To her shock, he shifted just enough to the side to avoid her, his arm swinging around. Suddenly, he was behind her, his arm around her neck. His knee jammed into the small of her back, sending her to her own knees. She reached up, digging long fingers into his arm to try and pull it away as he choked her. She heard the chuckle in her ears, his mouth close enough that he could speak so only she could hear. "I would expect nothing less from a Dragon Knight."

Her eyes went wide again, but her struggles only got that much harder. He had to really fight to keep her in the choke hold now, taking a wide stance so she did not simply throw him over her shoulder. He continued to taunt. "That's right. I know what you are. I recognized your fighting style in an instant." He pressed down as she tried to throw him again. "What's more, I know WHO you are, Hana Densh." She grit her teeth, managing to get one leg up to plant her foot solidly on the ground. "Don't worry. If you manage to beat me, your secret is safe, and you'll never see me again. If not..." He left it at that. Just as she was shoving backwards, he let go, letting her push him back several steps.

Hana gasped for a much needed gulp of air. Though this was a massive opening for him, he let her catch her breath again. After a long moment, she pushed herself up, rising to her feet once more and turning to face him. The look on her face was one of fury. If it got out that a Dragon Knight was not only going to this underground bar, but participating within the illegal fights, then she would be in more than a little trouble. Not just from her own superiors, but from the rest of the patrons. Knights were not exactly the most welcome among the underbelly. She might be able to take out any one of the drunkards up there individually, but against a group... Even a Dragon Knight would struggle against that.

NOW she was serious. This is what Dirk wanted. Now he could be serious, too. The two fighters stared at each other, both already winded from the previous encounters. They were still evenly matched as far as either was concerned. Neither moved, simply staring, running through a myriad of scenarios, blows, throws, counters and possible outcomes. The world around them melted away, as if only this slab of concrete and the other rodent was all that remained of reality.

What happened next, few in the crowd could accurately recant. The two were a blur of motion, rushing at each other. No one but the two knew the number of punches thrown, how they were blocked or dodged, or which kicked more often. The cheering died away as everyone watched in awe. This was the kind of fighting only read about in tales and fables. An elbow was caught, countered with a knee, dodged and followed by a gut punch, only to itself be countered by a shoulder check. Neither fighter relented, backed away, or yielded. And to many, they swore that magic got thrown into the mix, winds somehow kicking up around them from time to time, only for a counter wind to stop it.

The deciding blow was thrown. She saw her opening, a poorly aimed knee missing its mark at her side. She bashed his leg with the side of her own knee, forcing him to lose his balance and opening himself up to a devastating swing at his face. Her fist connected hard, jerking his head to the side and sending him staggering back a step. She watched him stumble back, about to tumble like so many she had fought before.

That was her fatal mistake. Instead of following through, she watched. It let him grasp out with a hand, snatching her by the hair and yank her forward. Barely catching himself in time, he used his momentum to drag her off her feet. As soon as she was moving, he let himself fall with her. As her belly struck the ground, knocking the wind from her, his knee landed on the back of her head with his full weight, smashing her nose-first into the pitiless floor. Blood burst forth from her nose and mouth as both crushed against the concrete. Several teeth chipped, two being completely dislodged from their root and skittering away.

He moved his knee down onto her back, pulling her head up by her hair, only to slam her face against the ground again. Blood splashed out of her mouth as more teeth were knocked free from their place, the already broken bones of her nose shattering further. Her face crashed into the floor a third time, her body jerking under him once, ending any and all struggles she had attempted to put up. When he lifted her head up once more, he saw it was a mess of bloody cuts and swollen flesh. Her mouth hung open, the jaw dislocated, drooling blood. Her eyes were still open, but there was no focus to them. He dropped her head, letting it thump to the ground in the bloody mess. He heard her raspy, ragged gasps for air and knew she was done fighting.

Dirk grunted, pushing himself unsteadily to his feet. The world spun for a second, and he nearly ended up on his back. He reached up to touch his own jaw. That last punch had rattled his brain something fierce. His own face was quite a mess of blood and cuts, his chest and arms sporting a few as well. He would have a couple new scars to brag about from this one. He was half-way back to where he left his cloak and daggers before realizing the ringing in his ears was not ringing at all. It was the crowd almost screaming in joy for the man that finally took the queen bitch down.

He laughed, in spite of himself, and held up a hand. He just stood in the pit, panting heavily to try and catch his breath. When the cheering finally started to die down, he spoke, his words slightly slurred. He definitely had a concussion. "Everyone... I present you... with a gift." He pointed to the barely conscious form of the half-naked rat on the ground. "Dragon Knight Major Hana Densh." All the remaining cheering died instantly as soon as the name was uttered. "That's right. You've had a high and might Knight here this whole time!" He turned and pointed at her again. "Now she's beaten and broken, right in the middle of your little den of thieves. What are you going to do about it?"

The response was a cacophony of anger and fury. Not only had there been one of the stuck up, arrogant knights here this whole time, but she had used her training and magic as a knight to steal their money in the pit. There were already men climbing over the railing and passing him before Dirk had even gotten to his gear. He slid on his belt and threw his cloak over his shoulders. He turned and let himself slump to the ground, leaning his back against the edge of the pit, hat set on his head once more. He got to finally break one of these self-righteous cunts. He had his fun. He would just sit back and watch the rest of the scum have theirs. He was too tired to join in, but he knew it would be one hell of a show.

* * *

Rayden stood stock still, gripping her partisan so tight it shook. The persistent rain that was the signature of Burmecia pelted down at her, bouncing off of the green heavy plate, running off her pointed helmet and down her back. She stood out front of the Dragon Knight barracks, her eyes transfixed ahead, burning with an anger she did not even know she was capable of. Ahead of her was a massive 10 meter statue of granite, depicting a proud Dragon Knight from some 400 years ago, the legendary General Freya Crescent. A woman Rayden could not deny she bore an uncanny resemblance to.

It was not the statue that held her ire, but what was at the base. Strung up between the legs of the stone woman was the body of a fellow knight. Stripped naked, Hana was held up by heavy cords around her wrists, tied to either leg of the statue. She had been left under the protection of the statue, guarded from the rain so that none of the defilement of her body would be washed away. The seed of countless men was left dried upon her legs, chest and face, leaking from her mouth, exposed sex and ass. Her face was a mess of blood and semen, swollen nearly beyond recognition.

Her body was covered not only in cuts, blood, and cum, but also writing. Words were scribbled upon her, such as slut, bitch, whore, cheater, free use, full use other hole, that one with an arrow pointing to her crotch, and many other degrading little messages. Her left leg had over thirty hash marks scratched into the thigh, likely not a full tally of the number of men that had abused the poor woman. Rayden could only hope that she was already dead by the time the gang rape had started, but she knew better.

However, even this was not the reason for the level of anger boiling her blood in that moment. It was one mark in particular. Branded into Hana's right breast was the inverted symbol for gil, with a simplified and stylized chocobo feather slashing across it. She knew that symbol only too well. The Dendari Cutters. A group of thieves and brigands that operated out of the airship docks in Burmecia. She knew because she had once been a member herself, before she got her life straightened out and joined the order. She knew they were no fan of the law, but killing a knight and defiling them like this was well past taking it too far. She could not help but think this was somehow a message especially for her.

She felt the hand rest on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Lieutenant Velusia. We'll find the ones who did this and bring them to justice." Knight Commander Kain Highcrest pat her shoulder again, knowing full well it was no comfort to her. After all, he was not only the head of the order, but her mentor.

She watched as a pair of the other knights moved to start taking Hana's corpse down. "I know, Commander." She gripped her weapon even tighter. "It's a promise."

* * *