Page 86 of Morally Corrupt

I've tried to tell him that on a number of occasions, but he always assumes I'm telling him he's weak and takes offense.

I've stopped.

That doesn't mean I've stopped taking care of him. He's my best friend, and he isn't fit for this world.

A few days later, when we're training in the gym, he tells me of his upcoming fight. I'm holding the training targets, and he's aiming to catch me off guard.

"No way," I say, incredulous that anyone would allow such a pairing. My hand slips, and his punch barely misses my cheek.

"Fuck." Theo laughs. "Why are you so surprised? Do you know this Bull dude?"

"Do I know him? Theo, have you been living under a rock this whole time?"

"I'm serious. I've never heard about him before."

"He used to be a champion here a couple of years ago. Never got to fight him though, before he got moved to Nevada."

"Then what got you so spooked?"

"Dude, are you kidding me? The guy's a tank. He's easily twice your size. What were they thinking to pair you two?"

"Maybe they see my potential," Theo adds with a wink, but I can see he's getting scared.

"When is it?" I ask, not really wanting to know. In Andrew's pits, the rule is that you can never renege on a fight unless you're dead. Which doesn't leave much hope for Theo.

"Tonight," Theo adds casually, removing his gloves and taking a sip of water.

"And you're not resting?" Never mind that I'm scared of him fighting Bull, but there's no way he has any chance if he goes into the ring already tired.

"That's it. You're not doing anything for the rest of the day." I lead him to the bench and make him sit. "Conserve your strength."

"You'll be there?" he asks almost hesitantly.

"Of course." I try my best to mask my worry, not wanting him to pick up on it and influence his morale. But truth is… deep down, I know that Theo's not going to make it.

It's close to midnight when I take a seat on the bleachers in the arena. Theo's fight is supposed to start soon. From the corner of my eye, I see him give me a little wave before heading to his side. Turning slightly, I also take in Bull. Like his name, the guy is huge, his muscles bulging from what I doubt is genuine effort. Still, to stay in the game for so long, you gotta be good. Hell, better than good. You gotta be the best.

The match quickly begins, and I see Theo try to make up for his smaller size with his speed. He's dodging left and right Bull's attacks. I'm at the edge of my seat, hoping he can score some blows on him before Bull does. Theo manages an uppercut when Bull least expects it and proceeds to throw another punch to Bull's temple.

Yes! My fists clench in excitement. He can do this.

Come on, Theo!

They circle each other a few more times before suddenly, Bull is in front of Theo, and with one punch to the stomach, throws him to the ground. Theo coughs up some blood and tries to stand, but Bull is on him, pummeling away. My eyes are wide as I realize that Theo's not even fighting. He turns his head slightly and catches my eyes, giving me a hint of a smile before his head drops to the ground, and his eyes close.

"We have a winner!" The crowd is cheering for Bull, but I can't hear anything. Theo's dead. Why is he dead? Why did he give up? I move mechanically towards the back of the arena, where the dead fighters are taken before being disposed of. On my way, I see Andrew, who stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

"That kid had a death wish," he says, looking towards the ring. I barely have the power to speak when I ask.

"What… do you mean?"

"Why he'd ask to fight Bull… it's beside me. I'd planned to have you fight him next weekend." He shakes his head as if he can't quite understand Theo's decision before moving forward and leaving me rooted to the spot. Theo had wanted it. He'd willingly sought death. Why? But I know the answer. The guilt had been too much for him.

I'm later in my room, still numb from the events in the arena. I've bribed some workers to have Theo buried in the cemetery next to the Basilica, hoping this will at least offer him some peace in death, even though his will forever be an unmarked grave.

Usually, the defeated aren't even given the privilege of being buried, some immediately being disposed of in of the crematories in the city, while others are sold for different purposes. Apparently, corpses have their uses.

I give a bitter laugh at the notion.