Labelled by Blood

      The boy spat at my feet. He raised his fists in a boxer's stance. He towered over me, I had to look up to meet his eyes. Vomit wanted the fire escape, but I stopped it in time.       "You better leave him alone or you'll end up in a ditch," the boy threatened. "Coach's threatened to have him off the team. You know how hard you have to screw up to be the star player and have Coach say that to you?"       Jesse never mentioned that to me.       I inhaled softly. Alex, you've done practice fights before. Don't panic. Let it all come back to you. My eyes trained on his. I was too close to him to run.       Jesse and Parker taught me some Aikido. Use that. It was literally meant for something like this. I took on the stance they taught me. I just needed him to come at me and I should be able to turn this around.       "They. Them," the boy laughed. "You're just a pathetic thing. Can't even stand up for yourself."       My hands trembled. He didn't move. I tried to take a step back.       A jab came at me. I panicked. My nose shot out with a bursting hot pain. I cried out.       "Come on." His tone is what hurt. "Fight like a man. Or are you going to run away to Jesse like a girl?"       Tears flickered at the corners of my eyes and I barred my teeth, retaking my stance. He laughed. My phone vibrated. Then another fist came at me. I was ready and grabbed his wrist. In a fluid motion, I used our momentums and drove my elbow into his stomach. He gasped and I shoved him off me. His glasses made a hollow clink and hit the unforgiving ground.       My footsteps wanted to echo, but the rain picked up and drowned it out. I ran, massaging my nose. The pain pulsed. My heart raced. My head hurt.       "You're pathetic!" he screamed. Rage burned through him.       Alex. Just keep going. Is what I should've done. I stopped and turned to look at him. He was on his hands and knees, holding his stomach with one arm. He looked up. Snatched his glasses from the ground next to him. His closed one of the temples. With a flick, they glowed in a disgusting pallid brown.       My heart sank. In his hand. A sickle? The earth under us tremored like it was scared. A pillar layered with concrete and dirt helped him to his feet.       No. He had a strim, too?       I wheeled and gunned it. But a wall nearly scraped my face raw when it soared up to challenge the growing rain. I was stuck here. I had to fight. I reached for my stapler. My hand glitched, but I forced myself to just do it. I'd never had to use this in a real fight. Against someone I hardly knew.       "I just can't believe Jesse fell for someone so sad. A nobody. A weirdo."       I tried to ignore him. My stapler went up, my rifle came down. I whipped and my sights found his head. My finger couldn't find the trigger.       "A loser."       The rain made it hard to focus. But my finger finally calmed down and I had the perfect moment. Just take the shot. Do it.       I didn't. I couldn't. And I was punished for it.       From behind, something smacked flat against my back and I fell forward, losing my grip on my slick rifle. It scraped the ground and flashed away in a blue light. My stapler was back on my belt loop.       "Seriously. He's throwing away his whole career to be with a an IT of all things."       The boy's shoes inched closer. I rolled and popped up despite the new soreness that battered my back. In an instant, my rifle was back and I raised my rifle. He was grounded .Eye level. The rain wasn't a problem.       I didn't hesitate this time.       Thunder clapped with my rifle. The earth shook and a mountain cracked through the ground with tremendous speed. My bullet could only dig so far before it dissipated. My phone vibrated again.       "Pathetic."       That one word made me falter. He popped out of his mountain, his sickle held with the confidence of someone who's definitely done this before. I raised my rifle, but his sickle was faster and he clipped it with his sickle, hooking and ripping it away. My stapler returned to me.       "I always thought Jesse would go for someone worth a damn. Someone actually human."       I didn't know what to do. He had everything locked down. I couldn't get my rifle out, and he'd win out any direct combat. I took a step back, finding his wall. My body pushed into it, trying to hide. Run. Dig.       That was it.       He dropped his shoulder ever so slightly and opened his mouth to say some more nasty things. My hands grabbed at sticky balled mud and found his eyes. He screamed in pain. Cheap shot. Better than a clean one.       I had my rifle pressed to his nose in an instant. He had his eyes closed and his sickle clattered against the ground. His shoulders dropped.       "How?"       I pulled my rifle away, then drove the butt into the side of his head. His body collapsed. My stapler returned to me. I breathed heavily. Each breath in ached and my body was stiff. I looked around at the walls and mud mountain he made. I picked up his glasses. With a flick I called his sickle. I wasn't keeping it. Integrity makes the man.       Before I could act, a horrendous static invaded my ears and I dropped to my knees and groaned.       Fascinating. Fascinating what the human brain can think of when pushed to its limits.       I shook my head, but nothing worked to get the static to go away.       Alex. An enigma to themselves as much as anyone else.       Tears pricked my eyes and I tried to control my breathing.       I need you tip top for when I make my grand entrance.       The static died out and I caught my breath. The boy laid on the ground, unconscious. His glasses were back on his head. I looked to my left and saw the Collector. It stood motionless, its face staring at the boy.       "What do you mean?"       The Collector slowly craned its neck to me. I froze. I mean you were hurt. I need you not hurt.       It raised a hand and a beige wave washed over me. With it, all my soreness and aches dulled and vanished. I looked on in awe as the small cuts on my hands stitched shut and my jeans seemed to repair themselves. There was an audible crack. My eyes darted to the Collector, who's head and neck made a perfect right angle.       The earthly abominations around us crumbled back to where they belonged. All evidence of a strim gone.       I cannot wait for our battle. You and the boy. Not this one. You two are special. I can sense it.       I opened my mouth to talk, but the Collector blurred out of existence. The rain poured over me. The gray above never once thought to scatter and let blue sparkle. The pattering drops showered me and the sound was deafening. Almost worse than the static.       It was just me and the unconscious boy. My phone vibrated.