Danger

I wasn't squeamish usually. I could watch gore and violence all day....as long as it was fictional. I figured my immunity to fake blood would protect me from freaking out in the case of real blood. I was wrong.

Watching the 57th annual Domivian Fighting Match was brutal. Fight after fight, the competitors were losing so much blood and took such hard blows I was surprised the managed to walk on their own after the fight ended. But to be fair I knew nothing about blood loss and hand to hand fighting techniques. And I didnt want to know. I just wanted to get my interview and go.

I felt that there was a 99% chance that Danger would say no. He hadn't been interviewed in years. I was told that Danger just doesn't "do that" anymore. Yeah my report could survive without the interview. But I'd never forgive myself if I didn't at least ask for it.

His fight ended almost half an hour ago. The arena was almost cleared out. The only thing stopping me from barging to his private room and demanding an interview was nerves. His name was Danger after all. You don't get a nickname like that from being sweet and approachable.

I took deep breaths and swallowed a dozen times while walking to his room. His name was engraved on a golden plaque that was stuck on the door. Perks of winning the match 5 years in a row I guess.

I raised my hand to knock and the door opened before I could even make contact with it.

A tall man stood in front of me. His hair was cut low and his eyes were dark and brooding.

"Danger isn't accepting interviews." He said.

My heart was ready to burst out of my chest. " Okay. Well, when will he be accepting them then?" I asked as if I didnt already know the answer.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Never. He doesn't do interviews anymore."

"Please. Can you ask him to make one exception. I only have three questions!" I pleaded.

He just raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "What kind of news crew only prepares three questions for an interview? What kind of...anyone only prepares three questions for an interview?" He asked incredulously.

"I'm not with a news crew. I'm writing a report about the history of the Domivian Fighting Match. This won't be published anywhere I promise! It would just really help me out. Please could you ask him nicely for an interview?"

At this point I'd given up hope. I knew I wasn't a convincing person. But all I could do was ask. Repeatedly.

He continued to stare at me. All the while I felt like he was trying to dissect my soul. But after a moment he sighed. "Fine. l'll ask him. As long as you swear that this isn't going to be plastered everywhere."

I almost dropped my voice recorder. I was sure my eyes were bulging out of my skull. All I could manage to do was nod my head furiously and remind him to remember to say please.

He gave me a funny look when I said that though. But he told me to wait for a moment and he closed the door.

The longer I stood out there the longer I felt like this was a prank and he had no intention of really asking for an interview. My feet began to hurt and I was about to turn around and leave when the door opened again.

It was the guy from earlier. "Alright! Three questions ONLY. And he can and probably will kick you out before you finish asking them." He said. And with that he stepped aside and opened the door wider so I could come inside.

I took another deep breath and prepared to meet Danger.