The City's Dark Jewel

[Ivan Sarkozy]

The man tried to tear into him like a beast. He felt pain radiating from dozens of gashes. The roar of the crowd went in and out of hearing as Ivan hit him as hard as he could, time after time.

It was like the guy was rubber or something. Impotent. Weak. The words played like a mantra. Cutting him, bleeding him.

And Ivan got angrier and angrier. The lights overhead began to dim as the light of the power glowed around him. So easy. It would be so easy to take it, to destroy this man.

And weak. Pathetic. He felt his heart beat faster and faster, lungs taking in great droughts of air, as he moved and struck.

He was so tired of being powerless. He remember the tunnels with Nox, the power wrought fists he'd used to beat those creatures into the walls.

God but it was like he was alive, so alive and everything was now and every nerve of his was firing and he was everything there was. It was glorious.

And Ivan embraced the memory. He imagined arms of fire and stone. He channeled his anger and rage down his arms, down his legs and feet.

He ignore the power that called him pussy. He would do this. Without the power.

Ignited by fury he moved faster, finally catching the guy's neck with his arm, locking immediately into a headlock, dropping to the ground, feeling the man's gasp and lurch as he landed on top of him. No time to think, his other arm came around, iron vices, legs around the man on top of him, pinning his legs to him.

The man's shaggy hair was in his face as he struggled this way and that, claws gaping great rents in his arms.

Ivan laughed with joy. "Do it!!!! he yelled relishing the pain- the man's panic- the tear of the rough floor on his back, sandpaper to already fresh wounds.

The man arched his hips and slammed down, and despite everything, Ivan flinched. Yeah. You don't take a groin shot and act like it was nothing.

In that moment, he shook free and broke away even as Ivan surged up.

Ivan saw fear and a bit of warriness.

Yeah. About time bitch.