A Painful Beginning: Celtic's Story P2

A badly hurt Celtic Fire.

It wouldn’t nor shouldn't have taken Celtic that long to get ready, but he needed this time, any time really, to recover. With his adrenaline starting to wear off, the true nature of the pain inflicted upon him cam roaring back. Even worse, the previous cowardly attack had taken its toll, more so than he was willing to admit. His chest heaved with pain as he tried to breath and center himself. His arms burned from the counter attack and extended work out, and his stomach... well that was just gone. Reaching into his locker, even this act causing some pain, he pulled out two leather black and green gloves and put them on. He clenched his fists hard and threw a few mock punches in front of the mirror. Mentally, he was ready for this fight, already seeing Aki knocked the hell out and begging to leave. Realistically, all he would have to do would be to block and/or dodge all of Aki’s hits, easy win right? Aki could barely lift one hundred pounds, what damage could he do in the ring, when faced with a real fight? No, Celtic had done the same a million times before, so this should be no different.




Taking another moment before he left, Celtic stretched out his body as best he could. His ribs and stomach were still in pain from the cheap shots, and the marks there wouldn’t go away for some time. His chest felt hot and soft. Considering how much effort he put into building muscle, this was a huge insult to him. As long as he didn’t take any more serious hits he would be fine. Celtic knew he would be. This was the open ring, this was HIS battle ground. Aki could only win by cheating, and he didn’t have that advantage anymore… right?

A badly beaten, and broken Aki.

In a situation that could only be labeled as disgraceful, it would take about half the allowed time before Aki could even move again. His body was more than rocked from the unplanned counter assault, and he wasn’t really up for a match right now. He couldn’t let Celtic do this to him again; he couldn’t suffer ANOTHER beating from the upstart potato. No, he was the rich man, he was the one who all should follow and worship! Aki closed his eyes, an dangerous move for a person with possible concussion, and envisioned Celtic on the ropes, begging for mercy as his insides are beaten. But, how? How could he overpower the man in the open ring without some short of - the idea came to him. Managing to get his body somewhat moving again, he went to his locker, and into his bag that had his boxing gloves. Reaching into a side pocket, he found a pair of heavy metal knuckles in there. He used them to protect himself from anyone who would mess with him outside the gym. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was all he got. Putting them on, then his gloves over them, he knew he was ready. Celtic would pay. He would suffer, he would die for his insults.

It was just a hair over the ten minute mark when the two would meet up again.


The Celtic Fighter, the older Irish-American man who picked up boxing for fun, was changed, gloved up, and ready for a fight. His ribs and stomach still hurt, and his head was a little dizzy, but he was ready. He showed no fear, he never would, just as a fighter should. On the other side of the locker room, the so called Boxer Aki was also ready. True, he was the younger, smaller of the two fighters, but he had the money, he had the family line, and he had the actual intelligence to win this fight once and for all. The stage was set, the actors ready, now it was time to dance.


The Ring

After checking his gloves for the final time, Celtic headed for the ring. He was eager for this fight, and for the rewards that would come from it. Interestingly, he found his rival already in the ring and warming up. After the beating the kid took in the locker room, he was rather surprised to see Aki moving at all. Keeping his eyes fixed on Aki, for Celtic couldn’t trust him after such a cowardly attack, he slowly entered the ring. He pulled up the ropes and ducked under them, firmly placing his feet into the ring. He circled around Aki for a few moments before settling into his corner.

“Are you ready for this?” Celtic spat.
“You are going down bro” Aki jeered back.

With no need for ceremony, for this was a fight between two men who wanted blood now, no bell would ring to signal the start of the match. The two just pushed off from their corners and rushed for the center of the ring. There, they each began circling each other, each began sizing the other up, each looking for an opening to throw the first punch. Hoping to take the advantage early and quick, Celtic lunged forward with a left hook. Prepared for the attack, Aki blocked the hook with ease and responded with a jab of his own. Also ready for the attack, Celtic deflected the blow and swung twice more. Again, Aki dodged by ducking low, using his smaller height to his advantage. Swinging, Aki’s punches hit only open air as Celtic had pushed himself back to prevent the attack. A quick but uneventful start for the two. Already annoyed, the two returned to circling each other, looking for any opening they could exploit. This time, Aki struck first for the advantage but met with the same success that Celtic did before. Even with two quick jabs, Celtic blocked it with his high guard up.

With success coming to neither fighters, and knowing full well he would not last in an extended fight like this, Celtic pressed harder than he should. He stumbled forward and threw two quick jabs met with only open air. Lining up his next attack, Celtic was surprised by a vicious blow to the side of his face. The force of the hit (backed by no so legal items under Aki's gloves) rocked Celtic harder than it ever should, or should be possible from the smaller man. Even worse, and even less possible with a single it, Celtic was knocked senseless and into the ropes... bleeding. His vision swirled, seeing stars and maybe even doubles. He tried to recover but was cut short as two strong jabs came his way. His head snapped back hard and felt like, for a moment, would have been knocked off. A left and right hook came screaming at Celtic and connected with his midsection, followed quickly by an upper cut to his chin. More blood, more sweat, more pain came forced out of his mouth, as his chin felt rather displaced. Celtic then doubled over when yet another of these super strong hits connected with his stomach. This was just too much, this shouldn't be possible, but yet it was... and with that Celtic hit the mat. Coughing up even more spats of blood, Celtic dropped face first several times while trying to get up.

Was this really it? Could this really be the end for him?

“UP BITCH!” Aki roared.

It wasn't like Celtic was taking a vacation or anything, no he was actually trying to get up. But these attacks, far to powerful for a man of Aki's size, just ruined him inside and out. From the insulted now be directed at him, Celtic could tell Aki was back in his mood. He felt powerful, in control and like a god... because right now, he was.

“I said up bitch!” Aki repeated.

Using the ropes of the ring, knowing full well he couldn't do it on his own anymore, Celtic managed to get on his feet. He took a breath, centered himself, and tried to take his stance. He would need to mount a strong defense or he wouldn't manage to even have a chance anymore. Yet, when trying to take a stance Celtic was once again blasted with a mean uppercut to the chin. In a spray of blood and saliva, the older man's head was snapped back and his whole body was sent back into the ropes; where he had to hang on them to prevent himself from falling. Wasting no time the next blow from Aki came as stiff uppercut to the right side of Celtic’s stomach. The force lifted Celtic off his feet with a loud grunt and several moans of pain. No matter how hard Celtic flexed, the still unknown brass knuckles Aki wore tore right threw his a stomach muscle armor. The next hit, a right this time, burned from the impact and left its mark. Celtic gasped and yelped in pain again, but was unable to do anything. If he moved his arms, his legs would give, opening himself up to even more pain. Yet, if he did not block, he wouldn’t have a midsection anymore.

“Ugggggggh” Celtic moaned as more blows to his stomach came.

Again and again straight jabs, mean hooks, deadly uppercuts and even double fisted blows came. They were joined with loud thuds and grunts that were slowly being replaced with moans and dull sounds of defeated muscle hit. Previous red marks turned deep blue and bruised. Celtic wanted to throw up, he wanted to fall down and die. The locker room was happening all over again, but this time, Celtic would never fight again.

BAM! THUD! BAM! BAM! BAM!

When the roar of leather meeting muscle could no longer echo in the ring, for the muscle was gone and the combatant broken, when Aki was sure Celtic’s prized midsection was now mush and useless, Aki sought a new target, a higher one. After all, he wanted Celtic beaten, ruined AND knocked out. Rolling his shoulders, Aki then took to throwing straight jabs to Celtic's head. Each one found it's mark hard and snapped Celtic's head back. Blood and sweat would fly in every direction, and soon the physical marks would show. With growing pleasure both in feeling and down below, Aki watched as Celtic's left eye swelled hard as his right eye became covered in blood. Celtic groaned in pain from each deadly blow, and was largely celebrated by Aki.

“Shut up baby, and take it like a man!” Aki made his inner thoughts vocal.

The last of Aki’s hits, at least for now, had managed to bust Celtic’s lip, sending blood onto the mat. It would have to be cleaned up later, but right now it was a sign of Aki’s dominance. He wanted it there, just like the others. Stepping back once again, to catch his breath and admire his work, he saw Celtic demolished. Hanging on the ropes, which were the only thing keeping him up, he saw a man that was once his biggest rival... now it was his biggest punching bag. Celtic's stomach was beat red and already had several new bruises on it. His ribs looked worse than ever, and his face? You could still tell it was Celtic even with the blood all over it. Oh! And even better? Said blood was also dripping down onto his chest, something that excited Aki to no end. Seeing no harm in it, Aki returned to his corner to wipe the sweat from his face and body. He also sought to do something with the growing problem in his trunks.

All in all, it was a good day to be Aki, king of the ring.

“How could this have happened” Celtic silently thought to himself. He had the muscle, he had the experience, he was better than Aki. This wasn't just ego or guy talk, this was the facts. How could this little shit beat him? How could his punches be so strong now, only after a short time when he- wait could it be? Aki had always carried brass knuckles with him, in case he got jumped outside the gym. Sure he may have been mouthy as hell and completely disrespectful, but Aki wasn’t that stupid outside the ring. So that had to be it, he was cheating again! With his insiders burning, Celtic knew he couldn’t take another hit, least of all from Aki’s cheating fist. He would have to come up with a plan, and quick. For if he didn’t he would never fight again... and even if he made it, could he ever fight again?

“Shit” Celtic thought… “Do I even have time to think?”

Had he been a spectator watching the fight, Celtic would have pointed out how desperate he looked, how stupid he looked. Just how weak and useless he looked. But right now, in a fight that could mean life or death, he didn’t care. Somehow imposing his will over his body, and now able to move his arms, he managed to remove himself from the ropes and drop to the canvas hard. His body screaming and protested in pain, but Celtic fought to maintain control and stay awake. He had to stay awake! If Celtic didn’t hit his mark, if this didn't work, then he would never fight again, he would just be some loser, defeated and broken before his time. Footsteps echoed closer to him, Aki was just about ready to finish him. Shit, he had to move fast or - a strong tug on his head, and Celtic was slowly rising to his feet, being pulled up by his hair. Not the opening Celtic was looking for, but the one he had.

Summoning up anything he had left, and sending out a hail Mary for good measure, Celtic aimed and punched as hard as he could into Aki’s chest. From the gasp and cries of pain, Celtic guessed he hit true, or at least close to it. The force that had pulled him up, and the hand holding on, left him, and now Celtic was back under his own power. Using this success to push himself, and managing to get up on one knee, Celtic sprang again. This time, a strong left uppercut to the chest, right side. Once again, it connected, and Aki cried out in pain. Celtic could feel his second wind coming, and feeling he could finally take this fight back. Yet still he was no idiot, this second wind wouldn't last long and so he had to act. Aki was now doubling over from the blow, and trying to cover up to protect himself, but Celtic took total advantage of this and swung again, then again, then again. Even with gloves on, his were legal at least; the hits sunk in deep and stung hard. Aki, roaring in pain, found himself suddenly useless, only stand there and take it.

And take it he did.

From upper cuts, Celtic moved to straight jabs to the chest, assuring he could do enough damage so he could stand up without counter attack. Back on his feet, and working off his own momentum, Celtic held back nothing. With Aki dazed and confused, he was an easy target. With wild swings, he pounded Aki’s ribs with his might. Marks first red turned deep brown from bruising. Each blow to Aki’s side, each hard pounding Aki took, was awarding Celtic with a cry of agony. They were high pitched and full of pain. Perfect. Next swift uppercuts, jabs, hooks and more pounded Aki’s midsection, throwing him around the ring like a rag doll. Unable to even keep his arms up, Aki rocked back and forth, sometimes falling on Celtic himself. Now Aki's blood, sweat and tears would cover the ring, flung in every direction, and even splattering onto Celtic's chest.

Had this been an official boxing match, the ref would have called the fight long ago. However, since no ref, Aki would have no help at all.

Aki getting what was coming to him.

Forced to the ropes, arms pulled behind him and tied in place, Aki would come to know defeat. His body, already beaten far beyond its limit today, would finally break. Punches would come cheap and easy, rocking his body as easily the now rocked the ring. He would moan, low, as his body could hold little air anymore. When the whole of his midsection was dark and brown, Celtic moved to the ribs. Being as thin as he was, the ribs were clearly seen and exposed. Straight jabs shocked Aki’s bones and made him bounce with the ropes. If they would not break by the end of this, they would surely be bruised. Aki wanted to fall, he wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, he wanted to throw up.

But none of this came.

For next his head was snapped back, to the left and to the right hard with many hits. Blood from his mouth and nose would cover any before, and show that now he, was the bitch. For the brief moments he could think, Aki knew he would have many bruises on his face, maybe even disfigured for a time. His chest, Aki’s weakest part, was slammed with fist after fist. Muscle did little to protect his body as it had already given up long ago. Aki tried to scream out, but he no longer had the energy to do so. All he could do was hang there and be the punching bag… the punching bag he always was. Each blow came faster and harder now, and Aki sagged on the ropes more and more. Had his arms not been tied, he would have surely fallen, completely knocked out.

Drenched in sweet, his arms on fire and his breath short, Celtic stepped back to see his work. Aki, the mouthy kid who cheated, was beaten. He sagged there on the ropes, completely unable to do anything but be his punching bag. His face was messed up, both eyes swollen and nose broken. Blood dripped from his left eye and mouth and fell onto his chest. His chest was badly bruised and cut, and it would be some time before any muscle could grow there again. His abs, were just gone, pounded to mush and never to be seen again.

“Guess I won the bet kid” Celtic sneered.

Drenched in sweat.

Arms on fire.

Stomach turned to mush.

Chest pounded.

Ribs bruised.

Even flexing hurt…

Celtic had won the fight, but at what price?

Every inch of Celtic’s body came back screaming in pain, with nothing now able to block it. His adrenaline high was gone, nothing could focus him now. He reached out, he tried to drag himself to the ropes to stay up, but he couldn’t. The body of the Celtic Fire gave out. This alone probably saved him uncomfortable questions. A few moments later, his friends would arrive, worried as to what happened to him. Upon seeing the ring, police and ambulance would be called. With no cameras to speak off, the story would be difficult to piece together at first. However, with the discovery of Aki’s brass knuckles on him, and his reputation among the gym staff, the case would be quickly and quietly settled up. Celtic would be hailed as “the man” for taking on such a cowardly cheater and manning up to win the day. Aki… well it would be assumed he would never be heard from again.

But one never knows.