Underground

Writing down the idea I saved it for tomorrow. Putting my notebook away, I stared intensely at my bed and flopped on it hard. Facing straight up, I then grabbed one of my two blankets and comfortably tucked myself in rolling over to the side of the wall. I closed my eyes gently with a smile on my face. All thoughts and theories can wait until tomorrow.

Where I can hopefully get some contact from professor Clein about my theory and how to make it real and not just a theory anymore. I may have cracked the case of death and how to stop it. I should at least get some awards for this if it's correct. Those were my last passing thoughts before the darkness of many closed eyes filled my entire consciousness and I was asleep...

Theo...

The same day nighttime...

I was walking with the rest of my group we are currently watching to the fighting arena so we can place bets and make a couple hundred fast. One won match is 250 on its own and when someone places a winning bet on you, you always get ten percent of every bet placed.

If you win every match as I usually do, then you've got yourself a loyal base of people that will continue betting on your side so they can make money and I can make money win-win situation. "Jackson, how much do you think we can make today?" "Assuming every thirty people here bet on you winning around 100-250 Heiro on you..." He trailed off Jackson is good at math... "The lowest you make today and I mean the absolute lowest is 550, which is still amazing!"

"And what you'd expect?" I asked him. "850!" As expected, human calculator. But did he just say 850?! With only thirty people betting! "And the highest?" I asked him curiously. "1k!"

Whoa! That's amazing! I can pay off all of our bills for light water and even put some away for my sisters jumpstart once she gets old enough to leave the house, so she has some extra money! And I could put some in my mom's account for groceries! With all of that, it still leaves roughly one hundred for me, which I'm going to save up to buy a condo once I'm old enough.

Walking through the ghettos was kind of dangerous: bar fights taken out to the streets everywhere, neon lights, sketchy cars all around just hanging out in front of local businesses. Everything you'd expect out of a ghetto homeless in and around the corners and all. I and the gang walked to a "small" establishment with neon lights on it.

In highlighted letters, it said, "the underground" which was short for the underground fight arena. Also, it was underground literally. It was a huge cutout souped-up a very popular nightclub. It stretched pretty far underneath, which I'm confident isn't legal in any way. "Let's head down," I said a large inhale. "Alright!"

Jackson said, jumping up and down. Walking down there were ads down all in neon lights which were a sort of irritating, but you gotta do what you gotta do. As we carefully stepped down the odd stairs, as there were no rails, the loud noises and yells were getting closer and closer, louder and louder.

We then reached the entrance. It looked like an enormous party in there. Roughly 1,000 people were there, or maybe more. I will not count. Humidity machines blew "smoke" out. They couldn't use actual smoke machines because their customers wouldn't like the smell first and second, they didn't want their customers and fighters to decline because of lung disease. But it added heat and sweat to the room that only seemed to add to the chaos.

"We're here." "Parker! Don't mess around and end up with a girl, please. The last time you did that, the girl's boyfriend was a drug dealer!" Jackson yelled. Parker gave us a thumbs up. "I'll be staying with you guys the whole time, anyway. It's a lot more crowded here than usual. I don't want to get lost."

I could hear the announcer calling out certain moments in the current match. I took off my disposable cheap, bleach-stained shirt. Nobody would steal it since it was so messed up unless they were truly strapped for clothes. All I had on was my white T-shirt and my sweatpants.

Since it was around 11 pm, the arena already had splatters of blood on it. I put on my teeth protectors. I don't want my perfectly white and aligned teeth to get messed up at all. All of a sudden, my phone rang with a small noise and a vibration.

Pulling it out of my pocket, I looked at it, and it was Sapphire. "How are you doing?" She asked. "I'm good," I heard the match ending and was about to climb up there. "Uh sorry gtg." I walked up to the ring. The person from the last match was drinking water, waiting for the next opponent. His face was splattered in blood, not his own. I took off my T-shirt. I didn't want any blood on it and threw it to the corner where I had put my shirt.

Making it perfectly, I slightly congratulated myself. The man from the last match looked young, around twenty, and in his prime. "Go! Go! Go!" For a second, I felt like the crowd just wanted to see violence. They wanted to see someone hurt, scared, even dead. Those were the true monsters.

I got ready for the first hit. Stepping forward, I then teleported, trying to catch him off guard. Behind him I stepped on the back of his leg, making him fall on one knee. He turned around looking, furious but I got on top of him and put him in a chokehold. He then leaned back acrobatically, forcing me to bang my head and back hard on the concrete ground. "Ack!!"