A man stormed inside of the courtyard, looking around like a wild dog. Behind him, three others awkwardly came in, throwing disgusted looks at the patched skins of the revenants inside. A crowd was already forming outside to see what was going to happen out of morbid curiosity.

The madman searched around with bloodshot eyes, for someone to put to blame for the consequences of his own actions.

“Just let it go already”, one of the men complained, with a deep blue skin, “I don’t want to stay here more than I need, these… things creep me out”.

“Yeah, I’ve heard they’ve got worms and stuff”, another interjected, clutching the strange wooden paddle in his hands.

“I’ll let it go when I get my money back!”, the madman shouted, bringing an even bigger crowd around the door to the building, “Have you seen how huge Umalda is? She was supposed to lose!”

“Outstanding math, genius”, the first man muttered, “You need to stop gambling”.

“And you need to shut up about things no one asked you about!”

While they were arguing, everyone inside began to tense in anticipation, Emma most of all. Her back was as stiff as a plank, and her skin was starting to drench in sweat. She looked at Diego with worried eyes and moved to the ropes as discreetly as she could, “Let’s leave, these guys are trouble”.

And just as she spoke those words, the madman laid eyes on the couple and raced towards them, before anyone could stop him. He raised the same paddle as the others as if it was a sword. It looked like a two-pronged cricket bat, with a carefully carved gap separating them. However, anyone familiar with wooden utensils would conclude that it hurt the same as a cricket bat.

“You!”, he grabbed the ropes and tried to climb inside, “You’ve ruined me, patchface!”

Emma momentarily froze, unsure how to react, but her body automatically entered a stance to protect her. On Diego’s part, something was starting to get over him, something dark, stirring with the growing violence in the air. As if possessed, he rushed against the man and kicked him square in the face before he could jump in, and sent him flying to the ground. Somehow, it felt great.

Everything got deadly quiet. The crowd was waiting to see what happened next, and the rest of revenants were so surprised they were still watching the man on the ground. The madman’s posse exchanged glances, asking each other what they should do, until the one with the blue skin stepped up.

“You shouldn’t have done that, patchface”, he raised his bat, “That was my friend you just kicked”.

Emmanuel grabbed Emma and quickly took her away from the ring before signalling the others with a move of his head to help Diego. This order was quickly shut down when Dirtha stepped in.

“Stop, I want to see how this goes”, she said, eyes fixated on Diego as he jumped outside the ring.

“Are you out of your mind?!”, Emma screamed at her from Emmanuel’s arms.

“Mind your tone”, Dirtha gave her a look that could freeze hell itself, “Remember what name shows in your contract”.

Emma grumbled and clenched her fists in the only act of rebellion she could take. She resigned to stay back and watch alongside the rest, sharing the same feeling of unease amongst her coworkers.

Diego analysed the situation he’d barged in. He was glad to see that the three men looked human, despite the colourful skin of the one running at him. They had no claws, no fur, no otherworldly things to worry about. What they did have, were the same skin, bones, and extremities he had been trained to deal with, the same ones he knew how to break. He could work with that.

He let all his air out, turning as light as a feather. For the first time since the start of his second life, this was something he understood and could control.

The man swung his arms against him. Diego’s body felt slow and alien, but it still reacted like a well-oiled machine. He moved his arms to the shape of a par of scissors and intercepted his aggressor mid swing, and quickly countered with a mix of knee strikes and punches, before stealing his weapon. He then threw him back against his friends.

The bat felt comfortable in his hand. It was heavy, hard, and above all else, it made him feel powerful. The two remaining men began to lose their confidence, and now looked at him worried, moving more cautiously, Diego couldn’t understand why, but it made him feel alive.

“What, you scared of a patchie?”, one of the men said, the one that had made the comment about the worms, “The guys at the pub ain’t gonna believe it”.

The other man, who had kept quiet so far, gave him a critical gaze to chastise his cowardice, and then stepped against Diego. Before he could get close, the kravist used the bat as a spear to stop him. In quick succession, he then kicked him in the unmentionables, and as his attacker fell forward, he kneed him in the face. Diego could feel time slow down when the knee crashed against his mouth, making his teeth fly around like, and how that dark feeling was growing in droves. Suddenly, he was scared, because he couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t enjoy hurting others, but right now, he was smiling, he felt he was winning.

It feels great, doesn’t it?

A voice spoke behind him, pushing him to spin around and look out for it. But there was no one, just a wall and a bunch of cleaning tools laying against it. His neck then snapped to the side as the last man hit him with his bat. Diego fell to the ground, and grabbed his neck where the blow had landed, burning like it was on fire.

“Yeah, that’s what you get, patchie!”, the man said with a grin that make him look like a weasel, “Who’s the last one standing? Me! No more Scaredy Malik for this guy, they’ll have to call me something like… Strong Malik! Yeah, that one sounds good!”

“Dirtha, for the love of God!”, Emma pleaded at her boss. Dirtha observed silently.

Malik raised the bat to hit Diego again, but he powered through the pain and kicked him back like a donkey, and straight to a kravist’s favourite target, the family jewels. Malik feel to his knees as Diego got up. It was the perfect height for the kick he threw at his head.

“You’re dead, corpse”, the madman said as he got up, mind filled with murder. Blood was running from his bent nose and mouth, and he had a knife. Light reflected on the metal towards Diego’s face, blinding him as if he was looking straight at the sun. He froze in place, shaking like a leaf.

“Dirtha!”, Emma pleaded once more, ready to get on her knees.

The madman stepped forward, and the revenant tried to run away, only to clumsily trip with his own legs and fall to the ground. His eyes locked on the blade, and all he could see was that night on the street playing back before his own his, ending with his blood spilling on the pavement. He crawled back, manically trying to find something, anything to defend himself with. His fingers touched something, and without a second thought, he threw it away at his attacker. A bucket full of dirty water flew against him, hitting him straight in the forehead.

“I’ve seen enough”, Dirtha announced, relieving a massive weight from Emma’s soul, “Go”

Without wasting a second, she ran forward and put all the weight in her body into a single punch aimed at the madman’s jaw, popping it out of place with a loud crack. He fell to the ground like a log.

“Are you ok?”, Emma asked as soon as she got next to Diego, who was shaking violently. He was looking at the knife with dread, fearing for his life just by looking at it.

Dirtha stepped on the blade and leaned forward, interested in the kravist’s look of terror, “So this is krav maga. I can make use of it”.

Diego looked in silence at the knife lyin at the groun in front of him, and tried to crawl away from . Dirtha then stepped on it, took it, and looked interested in Diego’s face.

“So this is krav maga. I can make use of it”.