Eliot just sat in darkness. The walls around him were cold, but still, he felt the warmth of his inner self radiating. Even now, his anger continued through the hours, through the days.

How long has it been? That was a question that he didn’t have an answer to, nor did he really want to think about it. After all, if you think about how long it has been since something happened, you also have to think about that event…and doing that only stoked the flames more. But even still, he knew he couldn’t hide from it forever. He had already run from so much in his life.

Unknown to him, weeks passed him by as he sat in his cell, all by himself. There was no concept of time anymore, and that was alright. He thought to himself...and thought, and thought, and thought.

Eventually, he thought so much that wasn’t even sure if he was thinking anymore. He began to lose himself the further in he dove into those thoughts. He replayed the two major events in his life over and over, each time stopping part way in. If he didn’t stop, he knew that it would be unleashed again. With every replay, he managed to get further and further, little by little. But even so, he would get blocked by some kind of barrier.

On the third week, it eventually clicked. He heard a voice run through his head—in his silence, he had almost forgotten what another’s voice sounded like. Although it wasn’t someone talking to him, it was more like a memory that was pushing through the thoughts.

“You are you, not an event,” the voice said.

“But I did it, and I am what happened,” Eliot argued. “That’s who I am.”

The voice spoke out again. “A person isn’t defined by one event.”

He slammed his fist to the ground and gritted his teeth. “How not!?” he yelled out. “I can’t deny what happened, because I hurt someone...I killed someone. How can that not matter? How is that not who I am?”

The voice was silent, and his thoughts were silent as well. Even though his emotions were constantly in full force, no tears fell. As a matter of fact, there hadn’t been any tears in days. That well had gone dry.

“How can I not think of it?” he questioned to himself. “What happened is all that matters.”

Finally, the voice returned one last time, louder than before. “The past doesn't mean as much as the future.”

That’s when it happened. The inferno that had been wildly raging inside of him without restraint changed. The intensity was still there, along with the emotions, but it was bearable. There was a semblance of order inside of him for the first time in what seemed like years.

His mind and heart were finally his own.

He knew that this wasn’t the end and that there was much more work to go, but he finally felt like he could walk on his own feet again. He didn’t love himself, rather he still hated himself, but at least he felt like himself again, whatever that meant. He felt that he finally was able to control his inner flames and his emotions. He had to bury those emotions down and stay in control, otherwise, the beast would be unleashed again.

And with that, Eliot finally stood up and walked out of his cell.

***

Blinking his eyes awake, Vincent saw that he was in a very familiar state. Above him was a stone ceiling and he felt that he was laying on a floor made of something very similar. He was back in his cell.

How many times am I gonna wake up here? he thought, laughing to himself a bit.

Sitting up, he looked around and found that he was alone. As he stretched his arms out, he felt the soreness loosen a bit. He checked his body to see how much pain he was in and to see if anything was broken.

He had always been really in tune with how his body felt, more so than anyone he knew. If something wasn’t quite right with his body, no matter how small, he could always sense it. There was even a time he knew he had a cold days before any symptoms showed.

After a somewhat thorough self-examination, he concluded that nothing was broken during the fight, and he only had a few bruises around his abdomen.

Those will heal in a day or so, he thought to himself. After all, not only was he usually on the same wavelength with his body, he also had always healed from injuries quicker than most people.

Just as he tried to stand up, he heard someone talk.

“Oh, you’re up,” the voice said in a rather uppity tune. From out of the shadows outside of the cell, Fang Nola stood there, their hand on the door to the cell. “Man, the one time I leave you wake up.”

With a bit of a jovial chuckle, Fang handed the guard in front of their cell a coin and opened the door. They stepped through and just looked at Vincent with a smile. In their arms was a plastic bag with stuff in it that Vincent couldn’t quite make out.

“Yeah, I actually just got up,” Vincent replied. “Whatcha got there?”

Fang furled their eyebrows in confusion for a second before a shot of recognition flew across their face. “Oh!” they said.

They rustled through their bag, looking for something. “I was walking around, trying to look for a place with corn dogs, when I ran into a guy.”

“Corn dogs?” Vincent asked.

“Yeah, corn dogs, they’re my favorite food.” They then smiled and rummaged through their bag. “Aha!” they said as they pulled out of their bag something that blew Vincent away.

In Fang’s hand was a red aluminum can that Vincent recognized from a mile away. It had been so long since he had had one that he almost forgot what it tasted like. In their hand was a can of cola.

“Dude!” Vincent exclaimed, immediately standing up with excitement. “Where did you get that and can I have it?”

Fang laughed a bit and tossed him the cola. “That’s why I have it.”

Vincent just stared at it in his hand. The way the condensation from the outside glistened and reflected the light mirrored that of the tears that started to fall down his face. What was even better about it was that it was still cold. He knew that it would be the most refreshing experience.

“You have no idea how much this means to me” Vincent said, acting as though he had just received a divine miracle from the heavens. In his eyes, at that moment, Fang was just shy of a god.

“Do you like it? Did I do good?” Fang asked.

“Did good?! This is better than a thousand baths.” He then looked up at Fang and asked, “How did you know I love cola?”

“Hahaha that’s actually a good segway for me,” they answered. They then dumped out the rest of their stuff on the ground. Most of it was food that wasn’t available in the cafeteria, some knick-knacks, some paper, and a pencil.

Fang then looked back at Vincent and said “I got this from a guy at the cafeteria. It’s from your friend, Zander.”

Ahhhh that makes sense, Vincent thought. “I’m surprised Zander came down and handed them to you, himself.”

“Oh I don’t think that was him, I think it was a delivery man.”

“Are you sure?.”

“Unless he’s a giant 6’4” muscled man with a beard, I’m pretty sure it’s not him”

“Hahahaha not even close,” Vincent laughed. “Did you have any luck finding a corn dog?”

Fang walked over the wall and slumped down. “No…” they replied. They then ate a piece of jerky. “But that’s alright, I guess.” They continued to chew more jerky.

Vincent walked over to them and asked, “So are you ready for more training?”

“Maybe you should rest first.” Fang then silently looked around the room for a second before looking back at Vincent. “Do you think that it helped? The training?”

“Oh yeah, I haven’t felt this good in a while. My muscles still feel warmed up and loose...kinda.” He then smiled wide and asked “What did you think of my fight? Did you see it? Did I look cool?”

“Of course, I had to watch the fruits of my labor. And you seemed to handle that fight pretty well, especially at the end.”

“Yeah, that was something else. But anyway,” he said, sighing and stretching his arms in the air, “I suppose I do gotta get ready for the next round.”

“Yeah, I guess we do.”

“Welp, I’m gonna take your advice and get some rest, because I think it’s coming up in a day or two.”

He then chugged the rest of his cola and laid down on the ground. The fizz trickled down his throat and the carbon settled in his stomach before burbling out as a burp. Satisfied, Vincent closed his eyes and gave his still-tired body some more rest.

It was almost time for the next round.