My favorite animals are voncretes. Big, powerful, and intelligent. They do what it takes, even if people consider them monsters.
"J- Jackson. Your- Your-"
"Milo, it's okay," he said.
Jackson pulled the knife from his throat and tossed it aside.
What's going on?
"You won't be needing that."
"W- What?"
The world around him seemed to shift and rotate as he suddenly went from lying on the floor to standing without moving a muscle.
What? Why are we here?
Wind kicked up dirt from the partifold floor. Milo covered his eyes to shield them from the small dust storm.
Men appeared.
Standing in a circle around Milo, familiar onlookers waited impatiently. Rocks outlined the boundary between spectator and fighter as Milo struggled to grasp what was happening.
He turned, "Jackson, wha-"
Jackson was gone.
"Jackson?"
"Talking to yourself in the third person? I didn't know you were such a prick," someone laughed.
"Focus on the fight!" Another shouted.
Milo looked at his hands and feet. Something was different—he was taller. He looked across the ring to see his opponent. He was shorter, but fierce.
Ralph.
I remember this.
He quickly turned to the crowd and scanned the front row.
There.
Crammed in front of an audience of burly men stood a small boy, anxiously watching.
Why am I in Jackson's body? How do I get out of this?!
"Begin!"
Ralph charged in and attempted to land the first hit.
Right hand.
Just as he predicted, Ralph threw a right cross. Milo twisted his foot and collapsed his weight on his right knee to dodge.
This is the same fight-
"Begin."
What?
Ralph charged in from across the ring.
Didn't we just-
A right cross barreled toward his face as Milo sat in confusion.
The punch connected.
"Begin."
The same scene—Ralph closing in from across the ring and a right cross.
Is it replaying when I lose?
Milo retreated out of Ralph's range. Everyone looked confused by the sudden retreat of one of the partifold's top fighters, yet kept cheering.
"Ralph's drivin 'em back!"
"Look at Ralph go!"
"Ah, just wait, Jackson always does this."
The fight continued when I didn't get hit. Then did I get hit the first time? How? I thought I did exactly what Jackson did...
Milo scrambled around the arena, moving away from Ralph and staying out of his range. His feet felt nimble, and his guard felt tight. It was different from his own.
Suddenly, Milo threw his own right cross. His arm swung out like a whip and blasted away the air around it.
Wow. I'm... strong.
Milo's mouth twitch into a smile.
Ralph was already within range as Milo pulled back his arm. He stepped back, but it was too late.
"Begin."
"Begin."
"Begin."
Damnit. I thought I could hold my own if I was stronger.
For a while, Milo let Ralph connect his punches as he thought about the fight he witnessed that night. Every move was ingrained into his mind. He could never forget the way Jackson moved. Except, it felt impossible to recreate. But, trying to fight an opponent like Ralph without a orchestrated back-and-forth was beyond the boy's ability.
I know, I know. Shit. I thought this would be easy if I had-
"Begin."
-Jackson's body. It seems like I need to do-
"Begin."
-what he did to win.
"Begin."
Twist. Dodge.
"Begin."
Twist-
"Begin."
Fuck! Why is he so fast?!
Every fight was a loss, but Milo began to understand something he hadn't before.
How it feels to move correctly.
Maybe not every move was a perfect imitation, but slowly, the experience added up.
"Begin."
Milo twisted and dodged. He struck back with his own left hook, immediately dodging Ralph's counterattack.
He smiled.
I did it!
"I can do this," he whispered.
Ralph didn't stop the assault. A quick shuffle of his feet, and he was within range. Milo did his best to improvise, but the lack of experience quickly caught up with him.
Ralph's right elbow twitched, and Milo took the bait. He threw up his guard on the left side of his body.
"Begin."
What? But I blocked it?
He went through the motions. Twist. Dodge-
Damnit.
"Begin."
Twist. Dodge. Hook. Retreat-
Fuck!
"Begin."
Twist. Dodge. Hook. Retreat.
This time, Milo watched Ralph's arm intently, but the outcome was the same.
I'm missing something.
Again, Milo tried straying from the usual path, but nothing changed. Ralph's right cross seemed to catch him off guard every time.
Unless...
Twist. Dodge. Hook. Retreat.
Milo focused on Ralph's cross, but he expanded his vision. While he watched the small movements Ralph's arm made, he kept his view as wide as possible.
His body reacted before he could. Milo threw up his guard, but this time, to his right side. He felt Ralph's fist connect with his forearms.
He was tricking me. He used movement to draw my attention. I didn't know you could do that...
Milo extended a quick left jab and knocked Ralph back. He quickly regained his composure and began to charge Milo once more.
Milo retreated instinctively.
Shit.
This was a path he hadn't seen before, but the fight didn't stop. Milo used all of the experience he had up until now to try to finish the fight on his own.
What's he gonna do if he can't double jab?
Definitely this.
Milo blocked a right cross and shot back with one of his own. But his hand stopped suddenly. As Ralph blocked the left side of his face, Milo twisted and hit him with a left hook instead.
He laughed.
I... like this? I do. I like this.
Ralph recoiled to the side and stumbled back, but quickly enough, he was on the attack.
"Begin."
The motions felt normal. The twist felt like a natural reaction to help him dodge, and Ralph's punches even seemed to slow down a little.
Is this what Jackson sees? Is this how he feels when he fights?
Overwhelming strength.
A glimpse of strength and Milo was able to put the attrocities he had just witnessed behind him-
No. I can just finally take out my anger on something.
Again and again, Milo fought Ralph. His smile only grew.
A small mistake and the fight was over, but Milo didn't have to deal with the consequences. He could simply start again without any pain from the previous round. He even knew what was going to happen. It was like...
...a game.
At some point, it wasn't about winning; it was just about fighting.
Round after round, cheers after cheers. Milo's movements became stronger and quicker. The crowd laughed with each punch, but the punches didn't seem to stop.
Ralph's guard didn't seem to matter as Milo blasted through it with sheer force. Somehow, Ralph kept standing, and he would eventually land his own hit.
"Begin."
The crowd was loving every bit of every round. They cheered for every punch, spray of blood, broken bone, and loose tooth.
Until they didn't.
A strange air fell over the crowd. No one cheered out as Milo landed a barrage of punches on his opponent.
The silence didn't make Milo stop. His grin spread from ear to ear as blood sprayed from each blow. He was hardly out of breath as he continued showering down punches.
As Ralph stumbled to the ground, Milo noticed the crowd's lack of excitement and stepped back. He looked around... and then at his opponent.
Ralph's face was busted—missing teeth, a split chin, and a strange liquid leaking from his skull.
"He's just a kid, Jackson," someone said.
"Yeah! Ain't he like seventeen?"
"Yeah!" The crowd shouted in unison.
The smile faded from Milo's face.
Seventeen?... Only five years older than me.
Ralph kept his guard up. Blood sprayed from his mouth with every sharp exhale. The sight made Milo shiver.
Milo stepped back and looked at his hands. His knuckles swelled high. Strong bruising rested at the surface of his skin. Gashes and small cuts layered around one another as blood leaked from his fists.
He looked back at Ralph.
"I-"
"Is this what you'll become when you gain strength?"
Milo turned to where the voice came from—a small boy in the front of the crowd. Milo looked at himself, but didn't know what to say.
"N- No, I just..."
"This is what you are." The boy continued. "This is what you'll become."
"No..."
"No!" Milo shouted, "I won't!"
He turned his focus back to Ralph and walked into his range. Ralph threw a quick jab and ended the fight.
"Begin."
I can't. I can't be a monster.
Suddenly, the rush of pain he had felt from weight of his home returned. The aching brought him to his knees.
"Augh! No! No! No!" Milo screamed as he punched the ground.
This can't be me.
Every muslce fought to push back the pain. To lift the weight of a building.
Tears welled in his eyes as he forced himself to his feet.
"Auh!"
The pain continued to radiate throughout his body. Landing punches could no longer take away what he had felt. Milo could no longer lose himself in the violence. He wouldn't allow it.
He let the fight start again.
This time, Milo followed in Jackson's path. Twist. Dodge. Hook. Retreat. Jab.
Is this how you fight, Jackson?
Behind each blow, he felt the burden of lives on his back. The weight of a home, a family, sat on his shoulders. And as each punch landed, he noticed things he hadn't before.
He noticed how Ralph's body responded with greater violence to Milo's punches than when Jackson was fighting him. How each spot he hit was the most efficient Jackson could find. How Jackson had tried to end the fight without a knockout.
You fight...
Tears welled in his eyes.
So kind.
Milo stood his ground, unwilling to move. Ralph stepped in range and double jabbed. Milo ducked under Ralph's incoming cross and sent a hook into his side.
Soft.
The final hook to Ralph's face sent his foot outside of the ring.
The fight was over.
Milo opened his eyes, staring at a strange, red ceiling. Tears pooled beside his face. He wiggled his fingers and felt his body up and down.
I'm me.
The boy sat up and looked around.
Red walls. Red everything. I'm back in this strange room.
Jackson and Flio lay in the center, unconscious. Milo turned to the strange table sitting at the edge of the room. He walked over and inspected the drawer.
As he placed his fingers around the handle, a lock clicked inside, and Milo pulled it open.