“Alright Marcus, show me what you got,” Matthew said encouragingly. I looked at the grassy field we were standing in. Matthew and I were facing opposite each other. We were wearing only boxers, the cold air biting against my skin.
“You want me to attack you?” I asked. He smiled.
“Well, unless you’re afraid, Sir,” he mocked. I shrugged and moved forward, one hand grabbing his neck, the other swinging in toward his head. His wrist shot out, stopping my fist completely. His other hand grabbed my left, and then I felt a sharp blow to my jaw as he brought me down. Then he jumped back and helped me up, shaking his head, frustrated.
“Too slow, too slow,” he muttered. I rubbed my jaw. He hadn’t hit hard on purpose, but it hadn’t been soft, either.
“How was that supposed to help me?” I asked. Matthew smiled and put his hands behind his head.
“I showed you that to prove to you that everything you just did was wrong. First, hand to hand combat is useless against Daemons. Second, you already know how to fight, but you’re going against what a Tamechactee would do. Never attack first. Defending yourself should come easily. Just to prove that, watch. He slung his fist at me, a blur of movement. I tried to get out of the way, but his fist stopped an inch away. He stared at me incredulously.
“No, no, stop thinking you’re afraid. Stop seeing my strength and believe in yourself. You’ve done it before, now do it again. Don’t be afraid! Don’t cower! You see it coming, do something about it!”
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish