First Rule About Fight Club


I'm just this guy, you know?

To expand on that, I am also the following...

- A former ficly member who is 38 years old and is schizoaffective (depressive type)

- Into creating languages and fantasy worlds from scratch

- A listener of audiobooks & good tunes

- Always too hard on myself

She lifted her hands up in a fashion that would make her prepared for the fight ahead. Her hands were heavily taped. No gloves for this one though. Not the underground fights. Those were a little more "anything goes" than the scene she was used to. She was used to fighting against girls of the same weight class and around the same skill level but that wasn't paying the bills anymore. In this arena, you never knew who was going to be in the cage across from you.

She had to do what she had to do though. Rent was due and no pro fights were coming in. Not for months. She was on a bit of a losing streak after being one of the hottest things in the MMA world and when your streak goes cold, nobody will return your calls anymore.

She sized up the woman across from her. Her opponent had at least fifty pounds on her and looked mean as hell. "This fight is going to be a doozy" she thought to herself.

She cleared her mind of everything except for the concept of beating the hell out of the person across from her.


No prequels yet. Why not write one?

« Write a prequel

Comments (1 so far!)

Jim Stitzel

Jim Stitzel

This could get ugly quick...

  • #2586 Posted 4 years ago
  • 0


  • Published 4 years ago.
  • Story viewed 5 times and rated 0 times.

All stories on Ficlatté are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 License. What does this mean?