Black water.

Not what I expected.

It shouldn’t be poisonous, right? If it came from my body it should be safe for consumption…

Even if it wasn’t actual blood, it’s been diluted with tap water so it should be fine.

I may be mistaken, but the amount of fluid in the cup looked to have increased a bit. I wonder if I can still use this cup to hold my toothbrush after this.

I tilted the cup at a forty-five-degree angle and stuck my tongue out. As my nostrils got closer to the cup, I could smell a distinct metallic scent. I gave a small lick like that of a stereotypical cat. Bitter. It actually had a taste other than metal. From my knowledge, my blood was usually sweet and succulent with a small aftertaste of metal. It wasn’t anything like self-mutilation or self-cannibalism, it was just from the times I accidentally bit my mouth when eating. I don’t know why but I had always enjoyed sucking on those mouth wounds. It was one of the reasons why I kept quiet—since I was busy puckering my lips to extract the taste of the blood. Of course, I didn’t do it purposely. I wasn’t a crazy person who would bite my mouth on purpose just to suck the blood. It’s just… If the situation presented itself, I don’t see why I shouldn’t take advantage of it.

This blood did not taste like mine. Was it the water that was mixed in? No, that wouldn’t explain why my blood flowed out in threads. It probably has something to do with the recent change in my body. It had only been an hour or so since I took a nap in the shower but I can confirm without a doubt that my body is not normal. It’s that ‘dream’ thing, isn’t it?

I licked my lips and a sudden sense of unease filled me… Didn’t I bite my mouth before when I was in the shower?

I moved my tongue across the bottom lip again and realized there was no peeling. It shouldn’t be smooth like this at the corner. That’s where I bit…what the hell.

I swirled the bloody water mixture in the cup and put it back on the sink top. The toothbrush was next to it with half of it off the edge and the other on the sink top. I gave it a little nudge so the brush would not touch anything but the air.

After spewing out a breath of air from my mouth, I stretched my arms from side to side above my head. It’s about time I headed downstairs. Sparring, huh? It sounds exciting.

With a yawn, I closed the bathroom doors and rubbed off my thighs.

I was on the second floor but I could already hear the loud boss music coming from the basement. The loud thumping bass came on every beat louder and louder as if responding to every step I took.

Once I got down to the basement, I slouched over on the wall as I waited for Trevor to be ready.

This was the first time I’ve seen Trevor work out and it was a sight to behold. It wasn’t completely out of expectations to see someone of his caliber lifting weights that were as big as a car’s wheel—but this was still a bewildering sight. He was pumping serious iron.

As the song came to a wrap, he put the barbell down which was supported by two big hooks… I guess you don’t need a spotter if the hooks were that strong. I mean, just looking at the size of those weights spelled ‘heavy.’ If the two protruding curves of metal could hang the barbell without shaking, then there really was no need to be worried.

“You should warm up too,” he said as he took several breaths in and out. It wasn’t to the level of huffing and puffing, but the sort of breathlessness you’d get from a small sprint to the nearby grocery store.

“I’m already warmed-up,” I said. That was a lie, but it didn’t matter. It was a spar that I wasn’t hoping to win. I don’t even know how to properly fight—only learned some tidbits from watching street brawls online. I’d be a fool to think I could choke Trevor as I did with that blonde kidnapper guy. Unlike that weak guy, Trevor was at least a whole head taller than me and his strength was not something I could contest against. His muscles could be considered literal body armor while my weak ass was just a wobbling stick. If I tried to rear-naked choke as I did with the blonde dude, I’d be asking to get myself slammed into the ground. For a hunk of muscle like Trevor, his neck muscles alone were probably stronger than my entire upper body… I could not see a path to victory. Maybe if Trevor was a stranger, I would have a chance since I could go all apeshit without worry—but this was a spar, not a ‘life or death’ situation with an enemy. If Trevor were my enemy, it’d definitely be a hard fight. But ‘fighting’ didn’t matter when it came to enemies. No matter how underhanded, if you won, you won. I doubt anyone can withstand a couple strikes to the head with a rock. While sturdy rocks were hard to find in the cities, here in this wilderness, they were everywhere. There were so many that you could trip on them if you weren’t careful—especially when you run. And that’s from experience.

After a couple more seconds of silence, he got up and signaled me to follow with his hand.

The gym in the basement was already pretty big, but the corner he led me to had another door meaning there was more to see. I had noticed it before but I thought it was the boiler room or something like that. All buildings had those so I kind of shrugged it off since I wasn’t that curious. Unless corpses were hidden behind that door, there was no real reason that would compel me to cop a peek.

Upon entering the room, the first thing I sensed was the smell of nothing. It was completely odorless. Maybe odorless wasn’t the right term but it gave off that fresh room smell. Like a Christmas present that has just been opened for the first time only to reveal nothing but the whiteness of the box’s interior. The color of the gym area was blue which didn’t really match the white in this room. Even though the light wasn’t on, there was no mistaking that bland scent of whiteness.

With my barefoot making contact first, the floor made for a tough cushion. It did not squish down like a soft pillow but was able to maintain a sturdy structure while soft when force was applied. I’m assuming this is a sparring mat that is meant to cushion falls.

As I followed Trevor in, he flicked a lightswitch on the wall. It was only then that I could see the objects hung around the walls. There was an old ceremonial rifle that color guards used hanging directly in front. Beside it was two Japanese swords, one longer, and the other shorter. Presumably, the long one on top was a katana of sorts and the shorter one on the bottom was a wakizashi. There was a red ornament tied onto the hilt of the wakizashi with red string. As for the katana, it was just a katana. For the most part, I was unsure if it was normal or not, since I’ve never studied that deeply into Japanese weaponry. I had expected it to be more curved but the curvature was minimal and it still had that straight stature akin to medieval swords. It was definitely much thinner.

Only two walls were rid of any valuables which were the two walls closest to the door. There was also a small handle sticking out of one of the walls.

“Wait here,” he said, as he pulled the handle.

It turns out it was another door. Had it not been for the handle, I would not have recognized it to be a door since the color blended into the wall.

I took a peek inside and the only thing I could see was Trevor’s big back. He was barely fitting into the narrow space and the fact that I couldn’t see anything past him meant it was probably a closet.

My attention moved back to the room as I waited. The sparring mat filled the entire room leaving no area uncovered. I wonder how it was cleaned? There was a blue square in the middle as if representing a boxing ring while the outside was all black. And since the room was a rectangle, it wasn’t perfectly fit to scale. Despite this, there was more than enough room to move around. It was about twice the size of my bedroom after all.

“Here,” said Trevor as I caught the gloves he tossed over to me. The classic logo of the boxer—red gloves. It looked a bit worn down and the manufacturer’s logo looked to be scratched off or painted over. Trevor had on a similar pair.

“You know how to fight, right?” Asked Trevor. Should I be honest and say no? Probably…

“First time.”

“First time? Jeez, you shoulda told me. Beginners should learn the basics instead of straight on sparring,” said Trevor as he moved his neck side to side to make cracking sounds.

“Since I’m wearing gloves already, let’s just spar. You should get the hang of it. It’s been years since I’ve rubbed gloves with anyone,” said Trevor as he whirled his wrist around while tightening the glove.

“Normally you should be putting wraps underneath so that you don’t damage your hand when punching, but it should be fine as long as you don’t swing your punches. Unless you’ve really practiced them to perfection, keep it to straight punching,” he said.

I’ve never touched boxing gloves before but I’m guessing it is supposed to go in as tight as possible so that my hands don’t slip. The velcro made them easy to put on.

“You ready?”

I swiped the glove against my head so I could feel my hand’s position.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, put your guard up,” he said.

The moment I raised my hands past my chest, Trevor had already closed the distance between us, and a punch came in from the right. I could block it easily with where my hands were positioned, but do I really want to get hit? Well, it’s obvious when you’re up against a macho man—the only viable option is to evade. Even if I block, he’ll probably blow me away with sheer force alone.

Dodging it is, I guess?

My body instinctively crouched down like a wrestler ready for a takedown. I made sure to keep my eyes glued on Trevor in all instances no matter how much it may strain my neck. While it was a spar I wasn’t going to win, I may as well try. The odds of me encountering another guy as big as Trevor was small so I needed all the experience I could get from fighting a big guy—yes, think long-term. ‘Survivalists’ are people who are good at surviving right? Fighting is definitely something I need to train. In an apocalyptic world, nothing matters more than being physically well—that is if an apocalypse were to befall everyone. It’s a bad idea to jinx it.

*Psst

I moved my head just in time to avoid the second punch.

“Focus,” said Trevor.

Oh boy.

Trevor’s thighs were pretty close meaning the distance between us was short. I could probably sneak a punch in but considering how meaty it is, I doubt it could do anything unless I aimed for the face. He wasn’t wearing face protection and neither was I so it’s safe to say that we both need to be careful.

*Psst

A fist came down from underneath. It was an uppercut I believe. He was trying to get me off the ground so I couldn’t crouch and evade his punches. I swirled my head and moved my chest backward to avoid the uppercut. It wasn’t anything crazy like an uppercut out of Street Fighter but I’m pretty sure I’d be winded if it were to land squarely on my chest.

Based on his footwork and the fact that he didn’t use his legs to kick me, Trevor was most likely a boxer. Most boxing punches are high so it’s safe to say that keeping down will help me evade.

On the next punch, I will slide to one of his sides, and punch his calf.

*Psst

From the right… So either the left or the right. Let’s go right and meet the uppercut. Yeah, that sounds correct. My hands shot out and caught his wrist as I pivoted around his uppercut like a pole dancer. Once I got in position, I thrust my dominant right hand down at the back of his legs. With the butt-chin muscle down, he will have a much harder time moving around. What was it called again? The gastrocnemius muscle or something? Either way, it was on the calf. Most boxers balance on the balls of their feet so if I weaken the calves, it will be harder to tiptoe… Damn, it’s only been a couple years and I already forgot all the fancy terminology used to describe human physiology. I may need to relearn some things later.

*Pfft

I expelled all the air in my lungs and tightened my stomach as I smashed the gloves down on that part of the calves.

As if traveling with the punch, Trevor lifted his foot slightly off the ground and slid it away. He minimized the impact but I definitely hit it.

With a single foot, I pushed back and off the ground to propel my entire body back. It was the thing I learned in the ‘dream’ I had in the shower. With only the muscles in my right leg, I was able to jump back pretty far. My body was also invigorated ever since I showered so I was in peak performance. I definitely felt stronger than usual. Did I become Spiderman or something? Well, I don’t have six-pack abs so probably not. And my vision has always been good so not much changed either. But my muscles did feel bulkier. It probably had something to do with the ‘dream’ and the blood. But what sort of connection might—

“I find it hard believing you’ve never been in a fight, heh,” said Trevor. “Looks like I shouldn’t treat you like a rookie.”

I probably shouldn’t wander off in my head if he’s going to fight seriously… Eh, does it really make a difference? I should close the distance and fight right in front of him because he clearly can’t punch me when I’m up and close. The kicks are what I should be wary of. While he may be a boxer, that doesn’t mean he can’t kick. Any person with legs can kick. And this wasn’t a boxing match with rules so it’s risky to go right in. But if I don’t go in, I will have a harder time dodging punches and I won’t be able to attack. I don’t even know how to put people in submissions so punching is pretty much the only thing I can do. If anything, I should be the one scared of submissions since I won’t be able to get out of an arm or leg lock with how heavy and strong Trevor is. Damn it, this is like trying to break open a boulder with a fist. If only I had a pebble, I’d be able to smash open the boulder… But alas, I only have hands. Maybe if I focus multiple attacks on a single point, I will have a chance…if it were bare-knuckle fighting, that is. Boxing gloves spread out the surface area so it will be hard to do… What the fuck can I do to crack a boulder? God damn it, he’s a bodybuilder, right? I’m sure my endurance for cardio is much better so maybe in a battle of attrition, I may have a chance. Yeah. That sounds like a good strategy. Make him hit the air and run…

That’s kind of boring though. Let’s spice things up.

“You’re getting up? It was a good strategy to duck-walk against tall people. But it only works on people who can’t use their legs properly,” said Trevor with a crackle.

Retorts are necessary for trash-talking, “So you can’t use your legs properly?”

“Hah, I was only cleaning the rust. Haven’t picked up a pair of gloves since my army days,” he said… Wait, Trevor used to be in the army? The American army? Oh wait, it’s America. Yeah, Trevor is also American… It shouldn’t be too hard to beat up an American—wait, I’m American too, aren’t I? Ah, we’re both fucked.

I’ve rested long enough so it’s about time to strike relentlessly. No more resting from now on. Only if I keep pressuring him will he run out of breath.

I mimicked his stance with my left leg forward and my right leg stuck out behind at a forty-five-degree angle to my front leg. Knees bent, and steady posture. Yeah, this should be it.

My back was to the wall so I shouldn’t let him get the initiation or I’d be the one getting pressured.

I dashed forward and appetized myself as an impulsive fighter while anticipating an attack.

*Psst

His punch came from the right size but I recognized it as a feint immediately. Compared to the other time he punched with his left hand, it was much too fast. A strong punch would be much slower since it was heavier.

It was odd to say, but every movement he made had been in slow-motion for me when it came to responding. But seeing it visually, his attacks were fast. One side of my brain said it was fast while the other side said it was slow. I didn’t know which to believe in but I believed anyway.

I didn’t hesitate to reach my right hand out to meet his left. I grabbed the wrists and pulled it forward. I knew he wasn’t going to be pulled with how heavy he was, but with his arm sticking out, I could leverage it like a staircase’s handrails and pull myself towards him. After all, the greater the positive change in velocity, the greater the speed. And the greater the speed, the bigger the impact. If I put the entire weight of my body into this punch, it will be strong as hell even if it weren’t my dominant hand.

Just as I was about to release the air in my lungs and make a huffing sound, I noticed his right leg coming up. Was he going to knee me? It makes sense… I’ve already pulled myself forward so it’ll be hard to come to an abrupt stop… In that case, I’ll just have to go faster than he can put his leg up!

*Pfft

Instead of stabbing straight like a spear which would be faster, I took the riskier option and swung my left arm, and only extended at the end. By swinging, it will deliver more damage but it will waste an extra millisecond.

Meanwhile, I kept my eyes on his free arm which was trying to block the punch to the—the head? Fuck that, I’m going for the solar plexus!

If this shot didn’t work, then his leg was going to knee me… Hopefully not in the crotch.

*Hnn

With another grunt, I pushed forward and slammed the boxing glove just below the center of his chest.

It was also then that I felt a certain sensation touching my stomach… Fuck.

I withdrew right in time so that I wouldn’t be pulling any punches and brought both hands back to clench my stomach. Had I withdrew any sooner, the pain wouldn’t be in the abdominals, but the solar plexus. Was he aiming for the solar plexus as well? I didn’t have time to look away from the fight so I brought my attention back to Trevor only to find him kneeling on the ground as he wheezed like an asthmatic patient.

I guess striking the solar plexus was a genius move. And here I thought I would have to play an endurance battle… I should have known—the human body is still only human. I need to get my hands on a book about human physiology so I can study it more in-depth later. Maybe I can learn some acupuncture shit and defeat someone by pushing their pressure points like some delusional martial arts master. Punching the solar plexus sure did the trick.