13 First Fight?

Waking up the next morning, feeling Morph's cold gelatinous form resting in the centre of my chest, a huge grin split my face. Petting the little pink blob he woke up with a start. Floating up and disappearing out the open door to the hut in the shape of a blue jay within seconds of opening his eyes.

Not to be outdone by my new companions enthusiasm I sprang to my feet and stepped out from my tiny hovel, inhaling the fresh morning air. The salty breeze drifting in over the ocean felt invigorating as I breathed it in. From here on out, this is where my story truly begins.

"Today is the first day of the rest of my life!" My voice was calm and collected, but trepidation and excitement intermingled within me, threatening to boil over.

Morph alighted gently on my shoulder, still in the form of a Bluejay.

Strolling along the coast, whistling to myself while casually sifting through the piles of discarded trash, I noticed something peeking out from beneath an old bookshelf that was sadly devoid of any actual books. I'd honestly love to read some of this worlds literature. I was an avid reader in my old world. I don't see why that should change in this one. I already have a budding collection of tattered old books that are barely legible. Though its nothing to be proud of. Mostly just children's books and romance novels.

Stepping off the pile of trash and walking towards the bookshelf I noticed that something had apparently eaten through the bottom, making it unstable and causing it to tilt towards the left. The way the wood is chipped, as if it was chewed on constantly, and all the small black pellets covering the shelves are tell tale signs of rats being the culprits.

I've never personally minded rats. I always thought they got a bad rap, you know due to the whole bubonic plague and all. It's true that city rats are filthy creatures that can spread a number of diseases, but certain species of field rats are actually extremely clean and spend more hours a day grooming themselves than even cats do. But these aren't field rats. Honestly, I think the vermin in this place might be the worst part about it.

Cockroaches, horse flies, rats, raccoons, stray cats and dogs as well as coyotes and foxes, the Grey Terminal is full of them. And those are just the more common ones. Oh and went I say rats I don't meant the tiny hold in your hand kind, I mean the kind the size of dogs that roam in packs. It's terrifying. The entire place is crawling with every kind of creepy crawly you can think of, and half of them are much larger than they have any right to be. Its pretty common to see people fighting animals over territory, or running out of their huts because a nest of insects, or a rodent of unusual size decided to move in.

This is their home too after all. Not that they bother me in the least. Insects are more rich in protein at the same weight than beef or pork and I've never been much of a picky eater.

Stepping closer I pushed the bookshelf aside, causing it to topple into the dirt, revealing the shiny object I noticed earlier. It was a small, cracked mirror with a murky silver frame. Nothing particularly valuable.

"Hey kid, why don' you jus hand that over to me. That way I won' have to hurt nobody." The voice was oily and rough, coming from behind a small pile of discarded chairs.

Before I had time to even pick up the mirror someone was already trying to take it from me. Typical. But if I'm ever going to make money in this place, I'll have to fight for it. A bead of sweat rolled down my cheek as my heart thundered in my chest. I always knew this was coming. This is just the kind of world I'm living in. I can either stand up for myself, or back down. A small smile came to my face. I honestly didn't expect to be this excited.

"HEY! Did'n you hear what I said!"

"Yeah I heard exactly what you said. I just chose to ignore it." I stated coldly after steeling my nerves and turning around to face the thief.

His face looked even greasier than his voice sounded. His once blonde hair was matted and slicked back, it was so covered in grime and dirt that you could hardly tell what it's original hair colour was. He hardly had any teeth left in his mouth and the few that remained were yellow and chipped in places. Dressed in torn rags and he was staring at me with a feral look in his beady blue eyes.

The only thing even remotely threatening about him was his size. Easily standing at more than two meters, with broad shoulders and a straight back, he struck a rather imposing figure. At least when compared to the other residents of the grey terminal. To me he just looked like a tall homeless man.

"The hell you say t' me boy?" The rag picker bellowed as he stepped closer in one long stride.

"I said I was ignoring you." I replied while taking a step closer to him, causing the wings on my ankles to flap softly, carrying me right to him as I glided over the debris covered ground.

"Well, are we gong to stand here all day or are we going to fight?" I asked, quoting a line from The Kingsman.

The man smiled down at me. A toothless, ugly smile that showed no joy. Then he swung his meaty fist straight towards my face. It was so telegraphed a toddler could have avoided it. Stepping to the side i grabbed his extended wrist and pulled him closer to me while bringing his face closer to the ground as I simultaneously struck out with a fist of my own, putting all my weight behind it.

A loud crunch sounded in my ears as the man dropped to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. For a moment I stood there, stunned and at a loss for words. A slight trickle of fear built slowly in the back of my mind. I may have killed him. That wasn't my intention at all. I was specifically holding back to prevent this exact situation. Did I underestimate my own strength? Oh well. He probably deserved it anyway. I'll just have to be more carful in the future.

Those thoughts proved to be baseless as I watched the unconscious man breath softly, before coughing violently and spitting out a mouthful of blood and teeth. I may not have killed him, but I definitely broke his jaw.

Can this even be called a fight?