ALPHAS vs OMEGAS

Petr_Chodura: Crickets. Literally crickets. Their chirping was the only sound that was kind enough to keep me company. Even the wind could sense that I was pissed off to the point where it was a little cautious to start blowing harder. Other than that it was as quiet as if I wasn't on a campus at all. Alone with my thoughts, that were surprisingly louder than the gracious local band of insects. Sitting on the ground, with knees tightly pressed to the pecs of my heaving chest. It was a sort of punishment that was just on the brink of being subconscious. You fucked up — so now you don't get to take a full breath without causing yourself some pain. I knew going back to education wouldn't be easy. I wasn't used to the structure that is college. In the military we all had a common ground, we were there to serve our country. Some of course had ulterior motives, but our goal was the same. Get by, survive, flourish. College was like the tower of Babel. Some wanted to get education, some were there to party, some to get away, some to find love… It was too much.

Petr_Chodura: There was not a clue as to why I was there. The shameful truth being that I got kicked out of the military, forcefully getting pushed into returning to this life. I had no reason to be there other than the simple fact that I had to be there. Causing me to feel lost and frustrated. So when I got approached by other people who wanted to get to know me… I was a complete asshat. Either rude, standoffish or distant, cold. There was no instant connection between me and the people. At first I was fine with it, but as the hours went by, I realized — I was a fucking failure. So there I was, in the pit. With fingers clawing into the skin of my face, digits pulling down on my cheeks. My exposed torso glistening with sweat, the chill air being fought with the sheer amount of heat that my body was producing. The crickets and the static in my ears becoming more and more unbearable by the minute. Then suddenly a new sound. Rhythmical, heavy, loud. I immediately grabbed my shirt and got up, one hand dusting off the sweatpants. My eyes wide, pupils small, trying to figure out who was coming closer. I looked like a deer in the headlight. Well, maybe like a deer with rabies, nearly frothing at the mouth.

Rodrick_Kent: My heart pounds with a discordant fury, my running strides are measured and sure while my mind turns in rage. The chill air does little to soothe me, the irony of a late night run when the day’s summer heat has withdrawn failing to cool my muscular body is not lost on me. First I tried to lift, to work my chest and back to relieve the stress and anger. That failed, it failed spectacularly. I hate failure, the knowledge I fell short of my goal. So instead I went for a jog, a practiced almost guaranteed to calm my savage thoughts. Again I fail in an incredible fashion! Not matter if I jog, sprint or flat out run at top speed my mood does not soften. The surrounding, the small but well grown series of trees on campus make no difference. The sounds of crickets singing, the smell of pines and oaks, even they celestial brilliance of the night sky fail to bring me any measure of peace.

Rodrick_Kent: My body aches with a need, a constant itch for action while my temper burns. It best for me to be alone, to be here where I can find my composure, but such balance evades me. My arms tense as I slow, knowing I am coming up on the Pit, the outdoor gym held by both frats. Maybe I can work the heavy bag there or just moves some iron. Anything not to go back to the Omega House right now. Another fucking big screen TV broken in a brawl! Last month Oliver and Leo were trying to outmuscle each other in some friendly arm wrestling that some turned into a intense brawling that broke our very expensive TV! I scolded, I scowled, I sighed and replaced the TV. I moved on only to come home from the library tonight to find Ryeley and Ric had a disagreement over who got to pick what game to watch! Somehow that became a good reason to wrestle in the lounge which in turn resulted in another busted TV! My steps hit the ground with more power than needed, the soil the victim of my rage. My handsome face is a snarl of menace as I slow down. I just want to wreck something or better yet someone! I growl under my breath, reminding myself being leader means I don’t get to lose myself in self indulgent slugfest!

Rodrick_Kent: It’s only then I realize I have entered the Pit and what’s more, I am not alone!

Petr_Chodura: I should be turned off. Turning my back, leaving. That's what I should be doing. For a moment, as light from the nearest lamp reflects in my eyes, you can see them in their manic state. Yet as they take in your frame, they don't soften but… harden? A rabid animal has a look of terror and dread to their eyes, however mine were taking an appearance of those that would belong to a predator. My heart skipped a beat then tightened and suddenly I felt excitement. It was like falling in love from the very first sight — but the feeling wasn't romantic at all. No. I was elated, excited, because I saw a challenge. You were massive. Every muscle of your body was bulging from beneath your skin, trying to push through. It reminded me of that which was home. A pinnacle of male physique was something that we all sprinted towards in the military.

Petr_Chodura: You were just like one of them in my mind, a fellow brother. A fellow brother was a challenge. Something I had to break down and beat into submission so I could feel alive again. My teeth were nearly piercing through my bottom lip as I craved to reach for this feeling again. For the dynamic. For action. In that moment there was this invisible crackle of electricity that bolted from both of us and clashed together, because I could see it in your very face — you were mad, and so was I. It was perfect, my fingers were already repeatedly sprawling out and curling, imagining the feeling of grasping what was in front of me. My chest, previously heaving, was now proudly pushed out. Usually I kept it covered, I only took my shirt off because I thought I was going to be completely alone. Broad, thick planes of muscle with a nasty, poorly healed scar cutting across. I was ashamed of it, it only always brought me the memories of failure. Yet in this moment, where I was in a maddened state, it became a symbol of pride. I was showing it off so outlandishly, it was more than sinful. “ You look like a tree that's about to topple… poor cardio? “ Words were coming out from between my lips before I could think them through. Viscous, venomous, taunting, I was chasing a high that hasn't yet begun. My hand suddenly curling into a fist as a cold gale of wind tried to blow away that shirt from my grasp. With how much I wanted to piss you off, my tone and face were strangely calm. As if to show how much better than you I was in this situation — because I had my shit together and you didn't. Obviously not true. In reality the emotions inside me were creating such a commotion, that on the outside I was a complete husk of a man. But holy shit, a husk never looked so good before — I was a beast of a man, my height and musculature creating an image that made others insecure.

Petr_Chodura: I was a creature of constant challenging and there was nothing I wanted more in that moment than for you to become my new challenge.

Rodrick_Kent: I see him there in the Pit, standing among the equipment and apparatus my brothers and rivals use to build our prowess. A strange intensity shrouds his shirtless muscular body. This young titan is wrapped in a dim illumination mixed between the low glow lamps of the outdoor gym and the pale shimmer starlight falling from the sky. A towering figure of twisted steel and sex appeal, Petr Chodura. If his mighty frame was not enough to identify him, that Slavic Accent is a dead giveaway away. More than one of my brothers tried to welcome and recruit this stud. We respected his military background and his dedication to his physique. At the Omega House we respect game, too bad he turned out to be such a shithead. Talking shit then, talking shit now. I feel my whole body tense as the material of my shorts and shirt press tightly against my thick swelling muscles. I move closer to Petr and as I do I see…. something….. out of place. His eyes, they have a fire, a feral hunger in them……

Rodrick_Kent: Part of me, the part that majors in psychology, the part that reasons, observes and hold empathy tells me this is a wounded man. A fellow in need of comfort, of company and more than anything my compassion. Too bad that part is not in charge right now. My own rage is too sharp, too frustrated with the need to act. All that motivation driving me, then only to find this Herculean Freshmen giving me lip? Kindness is not on the menu tonight.  I can feel it as I step closer, invading his personal space. It’s not a look or a scent, it’s not even the heat from his body and breath I feel on my skin as my colossal physique close rank. I am  too close to his muscular frame for him to not feel my own challenge. I cannot say  why this aura of menace enfolds Petr, but I know what it means. He wants to fight, he wants to challenge me. Challenge Me Here and Now!!! In a gym I built with my brothers, in a place I labor each and every day with my Omegas bros in plain sight of our greatest rivals the Alphas!!! This newcomer dares to challenge me!!!!! It so obviously and so very welcomed!!!

Rodrick_Kent: As I move even further into my enemy’s space I quickly stripe my shirt, feeling his posture and display give him to much an edge. Petr''s presence is geared up to pick a fight, to undermined my authority with his body. is With one final step we are chest to chest, our magnificent sculpt pecs just brushing against each other. I flex my pecs hard, matching your own attempt to anger me with cold contempt. Our eyes lock in a vicious staring contest as I realize you match my 6’3” height with easy but I have a good solid 40 pounds of muscle on you. 

Rodrick_Kent: “This gym belongs to the Alphas and Omegas. You’re neither.” My voice cold, daring you to dispute my masculine authority with your own.

Petr_Chodura: Oh, you were great. Perfect even. Immediately starting to scratch all of my itches. The way you approached me, the way you pressed your pectorals into mine. The connection became real and I felt simply electric. At the corners of your eyes you could literally see my shoulders twitching. I was barely holding myself back from getting to work. Yet this moment was too sweet, too palpable, I couldn't let it go this easily. I had to milk it till I get all of the satisfaction. With your words, short and getting to the point quick, I realize something. You weren't just a random guy, no. With that body, with the authority in your voice. My excitement reached a new level, nearly peaking. Those lips of mine, so narrow yet full, suddenly started sprawling out on my face. Widening to the point of creating an unsettling sight. A monstrous grin that showed off every single tooth in my maw. You were Kent. Rodrick Kent.

Petr_Chodura: Sharing the surname with Superman, it was quite fitting. You had that statuesque feeling to you. I was something one would envy, you were something that one should aspire towards. You were like an antithesis to my very being. Furthermore, you truly held authority. While it was made up, it was touchable. After all, being the head of one of the brotherly frats, you must have been in a league of your own. Immediately there was a need inside me to invade that league and pillage it, leave a massacre behind me. The Cheshire grin slowly reverted back to the stoic expression, as if the emotions I let out for a second were quickly apprehended by my consciousness and locked behind the bars that were my ribs. My arms rapidly came up and slid between our pecs. With a motion of a piston, I forced my strength into your body, pushing it away. I wasn't saving power at all, I was going hard from the very start. Yet instead of creating distance, it was my turn to close in. Not letting you be too far from me, as I was already feeling attached to you, I followed immediately. Bumping my chest into yours, giving you another small shove, this time with my torso alone. “ I belong where I want to belong. Problem? “ Hell, I didn't care about the gym at all. I could leave in a heartbeat and never come back again. The rush that opposing your authority gave me though? It was priceless… and I would chase it till I drain it. Till I go into relapse and then have your titanic body be my therapy.

Rodrick_Kent: My stance is strong, my voice firm as I tell this new challenger he does not belong here. It is my body, my muscles that do the true communicating in my this moment. We stand there towering against the other as my tense physique tells yours it will not back down, that my strength reigns here. Your own amazing physique of leaner sculpted muscle and dire glare a a clear challenge, exuding a fierce predatory claim. My role is to stand against it, my every muscle tense, fibers contouring with corded muscle and barely suppressed power. My presence gladly answers your challenge, even as you escalate things bring up your thick well muscled arms and driving me back. I am not pushed back too far, only a step and a half. Still that is an impressive feat of strength in itself. My foe moves fast, staying with me and slamming his chest into mine! Sculpted pectorals impact hard against each other, a powerful strike. My rival is not holding back as his torso drives into my own with such force!

Rodrick_Kent: This time I hold my ground refusing to move as Petr lets me know he intends to defy my strength, my authority. Good, that will make this far more interesting. Our thick frames keep straining chest to chest, both of us flaring and expanding our pecs. I punch my own chest harder, realizing I need to go all out against Petra’s raw power. Despite my advantage of mass, Petr's battles with a zeal, a raw passion that boards on manic. For a few long moments we both labored to drive the other back, to smother the other's proud pecs with our own mighty mounds in an act of pure muscle domination. I feel my chest swelling, flexing with such raw power only to struggle against his resistance. I am surprised and impressed at how evenly we are matched.

Rodrick_Kent: We both begin to show signs of effort, straining and struggling against another mighty power. Then with a sudden motion I bring my arms up between our warring torso and push hard. Your big body only go back perhaps a step or two. The heat, the energy between us lessens as we separate, but it won’t be for long. “Problem, yeah you got a problem. I am bigger than you, stronger than you.” I give you a smirk dripping with competitive lust and smug condescension. The I raise my arms out, the muscles of my arms already pumped and hardened. I spread my legs, taking a solid stance with my broad back straight as my hands spread out, open and out at a diagonal. It’s a simple challenge, an invitation to test your strength against mine.

Rodrick_Kent: “Let’s go Chodura, I will put you on your knees!”

Petr_Chodura: So the big man himself had some personality, huh? Cocky one at that — no wonder. Someone in his position had to be confident. Confidence wasn't enough when squaring up against me. In my eyes every single opponent of mine was a wall. Without features, without a mind of its own. My body was a jackhammer. All I had to do was to slam through it. The problem being that you were a wall made out of pure cement. Too thick and too tall, but still only a wall. Every time I'll bounce off, I'll make sure to slam myself harder into my target. Just like when my hands slammed into yours, palms clasping together. Immediately I weaved my fingers with yours to maintain a grasp that wouldn't yield, no matter the pain. “ Size can only take you so far. Let's see where your skill is at! “ As soon as I let the last word leave my lips, I ram my body forward. My chest slamming into yours once again, I immediately shift my feet. Legs apart, one further back than the other. I dig the tip of my shoe into the ground beneath us — and I simply don't stop attacking. Every single muscle in my arms flared up, pumped from my recent workout. The veins bulge beneath my skin, trying their darnedest to free themselves from the fleshy confines.

Petr_Chodura: Massive biceps peaking as I not only pushed forward but also downward, wanting to show you who'll really end up on their knees. I felt the need to overwhelm you. Yet I was met with what felt like stone. A stone so ancient, it survived ages of pressure and erosion… and somehow it was only becoming harder. I ground my teeth together and a gurgling sound brewed in my throat, manifesting in a distorted snarl as I kept on putting as much pressure on you as I could. Making sure my feet weren't pushed too firmly into the soil — otherwise with how much force I was putting out, I would be easily pushed out of balance if overpowered. My quads enlarging, the fabric of my shorts becoming skintight, pulling taught at the seams. I was trained by the military. I was taught to hold onto my rifle even in my sleep. When the general tried to pull it out of my hands — I was supposed to rip it out together with his wrists. My grip was iron, unyielding. Fingers sinking into the flesh between your knuckles to crush them.

Rodrick_Kent: My body hums with adrenaline, testosterone and the heady thrill of competition! Petr’s resistance is raw, an unyielding grip fueled by a mixed of strength, determination and an explosive push. He holds nothing back as he labors to overwhelm my sheer muscle and mass, trying to drive me to my knees an all out assault early in our contest. I can see it in stance, feel it as thick pec shelves collide with an impact only one colossus can inflict on another. You are big and so strong but I am bigger and even stronger. You try to out power the difference with a killer grip,  raw speed and savage intensity. Your biceps ball into cannons, swelling as a statement of your raw unstoppable need to dominate as your veins rise to feed your muscles . It is to many a frightening sight of intimidation and waiting doom. To me it is a fucking inspiration!

Rodrick_Kent: I push hard, letting my hard earned muscles strain, my body performing  like the well trained machine it is. I parry my foe raw power with focused strength and brutal precision. I feel his grip, his prowess attack full out. I have no doubt this stud is coming at me with all his fantastic strength. I smile between clench teeth. My arm muscles flare to  into action, expanding fibers of muscle and veins roaring to action. My legs move into position, one forward the other planted behind. My back and lats swell with more power as I deny my rival any advance. His attempt at conquest demands nothing less. I push myself  to compete harder as my blood flow and my muscles pulse in time. My voice is low menacing growl of fury as we struggle!

Rodrick_Kent: Oh how we struggle! Raw power and the need conquering opposed by sheer strength and my indomitable will. Might versus Might in an incredible display of manly power! I see your whole body exploding with power, I feel the urge to conquer, to inflict and destroy rising off you in waves. The heat and pressure between our fingers, the pain slowly but surely building, the scent of sweat and effort as we struggle is a high, a delicious drug of physical and emotional sensations!

Rodrick_Kent: I try driving your fingers back, to bend your wrists as both our forearms stiffen and swell. Our strength pulse against each other as I see the threat to my authority, the challenge I so desperately wanted. You need to conquer is no less than my thrust for supremacy, to control this rival stud. I pull back, giving you a glare mixing rage and approval as I give everything over to our struggle. Two young titans at muscle war, I suddenly drive forward wield my chest like a battering ram again as my pectorals try to crush my rival’s thick chest. To my extreme joy and sharp pain, you meet my rush. Pecs shelves once again slamming together, seeking to prove the other set of mounds the lesser! Pain and pressure build as muscle keto bulging, straining till I am certain I am at my maximum pump! I roar in your face as we are so close, I can see the fire in your eyes for the brutal need it is!

Petr_Chodura: Your power becomes overwhelming as your muscles become an engine that pushed you forward. I felt the panicked urge to go into defense, to put all my strength into enduring this sudden rush of might, to wait it out. Yet then you suddenly throw your body towards mine and something in my mind breaks. We were really just beginning — but you were already proving to be a challenge that I will remember for years. What breaks is the safety glass, my mind pulling down the emergency lever. As it does, my lips part and I bare my teeth, snarling. My calves suddenly harden into stone, pulled up to my knees. I can feel the shorts’ seems strain, warning that they won't survive even an inch more of my quads growing. I kick off and slam my chest into yours as you ram into me — offense was always the best defense. I could feel my legs burning as they strained, trying to keep me standing firmly. My back finally straightened out, so my chest could proudly sink into yours, widens. My massive frame casts a shadow ever your own, the lamp's light perfectly aligned.

Petr_Chodura: My forehead presses up against yours and my eyes drill through yours to dig into your skull. To let the fire of my gaze burn the scrolls of your brain. You can smell my breath, inhale my scent — our bodies connecting on an unspeakable level in this moment. I was lusting for dominance, lasting for pride and victory. I don't roar but you hear this primal, animalistic panting. It immediately drowns out the crickets and the wind around as. You weren't falling… you weren't unraveling beneath me. It angered me to the point of my face becoming completely red. The arms stretched out, I bring your hands above your head and push beneath the pain starting to rip at the fibers of my biceps. The muscles in my palms being on the very verge of cramping as I imagine the sound of your cries — and it pushes me past the point of sanity, allowing me to tap into the strength of a body no longer limited by the mind. I wanted this so bad… no, I wanted you. As my trophy. Your head wrapped in my arms, body dragged like a carcass of a slain beast. Saliva pooling in my mouth, almost pouring over the sides of my lips.

Rodrick_Kent: I feel my focused advance push your savage power back, taking the advantage against my rival. My muscle burn with fatigue and pain but it is bearable, it is so worth it. It’s a small lead, but in a war between to titans any advantage can lead to total victory. I revel in it, I drive arms and chest, legs and back push in perfect harmony. My muscles inflict humiliation on my foe and I smile despite the pain of your considerable resistance. This is how you break a strong man down! This is how I establish my authority! I feel my foe starting to break down further, are his knees starting to buckle, is that pain overwhelming him finally?!?

Rodrick_Kent: Then suddenly I feel my foe shift, his strength and just like that my hard earned advantage is taken by brute force. It’s like Petr through a switch and found some new fountain of strength! I swear to god he was not holding back before but suddenly he is on a whole new level. I feel my fingers going numb as my chest aches. His pump pecs start to press mine in, I feel my flesh on fire with effort. Both of us are turning red but Petr has forced the contest back to even. What is more is his grip and strength are not letting up! What the fuck! I feel pain, new sharp pain in my forearms in strange contrast to the dull numbing of my fingers and shoulders. Our arms are out to our sides, a painful stretch only to suddenly be lurched upward as My rival drives my arms upward preparing to drive me down. I feel a painful stretch only, a dull ache in my left knee threatening to become a full blown agony if I don’t bend. My arms protest as I feel Petr take the lead, my snarl become more frustration than motivation. My knee starts to bend against my will, my incredible strength insufficient to stop my foe’s maddened advance!

Rodrick_Kent: I feel myself starting to weaken, perhaps begging to crumble under this renewed onslaught of power. Fuck that, fuck this beast!!! I know who I am, the Rod, the Relentless, Prez of Omega Society! I don’t wimped, I don’t break, and I sure as hell don’t fall to the new guy. I dig my right foot in, take a deep breath and press up. I tap into something dark and unspeakable, a need to win, to compete beyond this level. I feel my muscles close to breaking and I don’t care! If I lose it will be at my best! He sees a victim, I see a challenge to be meet! I push and drive with a renewed effort, a Herculean Unleashing of all that I am. My arms quiver as I see my opponent register my power, my commitment to defeat him! Our arms move, my knee straightens as we share a connection of mutual power and the need to dominate. Both of us are shaking from the effort, our bodies contracted in a terrible flex of force, chest once again grinding hard. Red faced a near exhaustion, our muscles threatening to tear off the bone we struggle both unwilling to yield.

Petr_Chodura: Just as I went beyond my capabilities — so did you. That was the moment where I started to feel the pain again. It was no longer tied solely to my muscles. It was radiating to my joints. My elbows straining, my kneecaps thrumming with a numbing ache, my ankles threatening my mind to snap. I was at my wit's end, my body was screaming for me to stop. For a moment there was a thought that I was done for. That I picked a wrong fight. That this heroic giant of a man was about to crush me into the ground as if I was an unimportant villain… but I couldn't accept that narrative. If I were to be a villain, I had to take something from him before he wins. His strength, his ego, his pride. I wanted to shatter it all, I wanted to make him doubt his power, to make him think — how could I be beaten by a reject?

Petr_Chodura: It fueled me to the point of a capillary popping in my left eye. Red washing over as I suddenly kicked my hind leg back and dug the toe box of my shoe into the ground. My other knee bent and my face fell to the level of his chest. I was on my last breaths, body begging to be finished by this man in front of me. But I was more than my body and my mind. I was a challenge. So for the last ditch effort I yanked his arms down to the level of his chest, on the both sides of my head. Pressing my face into his torso, I finally released a roar that was being locked away in my lungs. My limbs, even though shaking as if they were about to all break, pumped to the max, my biceps and quads slowly tearing apart… and I pushed. Pushed so hard to the point where I brought my hind leg forward and the front one back, trying to walk towards my victory, trying to slam you into the ground, trying to prove to myself that I was more than a reject. I could no longer feel my fingers, my palms were in so much pain that my mind temporarily locked away the feeling. My whole body burning, my throat releasing long groans filled with pain. Go. Down. NOW.

Rodrick_Kent: My entire physique is in an aching rising agony. I have pushed beyond the beyond yet still this jacked fucker denies me my due. He refuses to cry for my mercy, to defy all the muscle and sweat I shed to build my power! Our hands are locked, our pecs pressed so tightly we can feel one another’s head breath. My whole body is on fire, my entire frame is one flexing unit. Effort and sweat rolling off my broad shoulders, I feel my throat start to gasp. Still this beast denies me, his eyes are filled with a crazed hate, a maddening need to ruin me. I know my own visage is no less determined, my relentless nature ready to either break my foe or be broken. My only thought, this man must YIELD, must cry for MERCY!!!!

Rodrick_Kent: I feel my foe sink, his head going lower and pushing against my shoulder. I pour on the effort as my arms go fully numb. I am gasping, struggling as I feel my foe slowly lower. Yes, finally fall to your knees Fucker!!!

Rodrick_Kent: Then Petr roars, a primal sound dripping with the intent to crush me. Somehow I know this game, this test of strength is now so much more. Petr slams into my struggling frame as I feel my body starting to bend. Labor breathing gets harder as I realize our heads are level again. Fuck did I fall or he rise up?!? He is trying to push through me, trying to roll me with brute strength!!! I struggle for all I am worth the two of us lined up, our heads side by side as our arms slowly fall. I feel tense and strength fading far too suddenly. I take a deep breath inhaling Petra’s deep manly scent. I feel my shoulders sag and only then realize my knees are on the cold ground. A moment of panic frustration and disbelief clouds my mind, the unthinkable losing to this random titan who crossed my path. No, not here, I refuse to fall. It’s only then I realize my foe is also on the ground. Defiant Bastard manage to take me down with him, forcing me into a draw. His ever so impressive pump has faded, his breathing labored as my own and his left eye is clouded red. Petr looks a fright and I did that to him!

Rodrick_Kent: “Never said mercy.” I manage to croak out, not entirely sure if I mean him or me.

Petr_Chodura: As soon as my knees hit the ground, so did my palms. Pain spread like a wildfire across my entire body. Regaining feeling in my hands, my feet begging me to never stand on them again. The amount of burning I felt led to saliva drooling out of the sides of my lips, as I could see small dots flying across my vision. The heaving of my chest, the wild thrumming of my heart… I haven't felt like this in a long, long while. Sheer exhaustion and the feeling of being defeated, my eyes pinned to the ground. But then I heard your pathetic voice and it all clicked in my mind. He didn't say mercy… nor did I. Hah. Haha… ah, perfect. So we didn't have to end here. That was so good, I wanted more.

Petr_Chodura: I needed to crush this stone in front of me. Suddenly I spat into the ground and looked up at you, the person I no longer saw as human, but as a mountain I had to climb. I felt pain and exhaustion before. I was forced to crawl through mud and barbed wire in the military. So I sprung to my knees and immediately swung my right arm. Yet instead of slamming my fist into your face, I grabbed you by the nape. Immediately falling backwards onto my back, I used my whole weight to yank you down with me. Shoving your head under my armpit, arm tightly wrapped around the back of your neck. Legs immediately closing around your waist, ankles locking behind your back. “ Good… You'll beg for it now. “ I pant out as despite the pain my limbs lock in place and tighten, trapping you in a guillotine. While I wasn't squeezing full force, I wanted to keep it painful enough so you couldn't rest and regain strength in peace. The sight of your massive back morphing into the skin of a beast in my mind. It was time to get a big ol’ trophy… I was hellbent on it.

Rodrick_Kent: I realize our hands separate as stabbing sensation returns to my limbs. Staring at you, certain this is not over I see you raise your head and am surprised at the expression on your face. I can see drool on you face, your eyes blink rapidly telling me your vision is blurred yet somehow your presence is so very fierce. My muscle ache and my skin burns with heat but I know the attack is coming. We begin with a grapple.

Rodrick_Kent: Your quick strike pulls me into a guillotine as your body weight drives us down. Immediately I relax my neck and try to circle with my legs. Too bad for me Petr is skilled enough to add a body scissors to hold. Someone is well trained, but just how good? I move on instinct acquired from years of grappling. I try to get my arm behind Petr’s own neck, to put my arm in a diagonal line to his far shoulder. The ground is fighting that counter as much my opponent. My only saving grace is the choke is not on too tight yet. Still it’s too tight and too early to just take some defensive steps back to slip out. Petr’s legs are making the a distinctly difficult possibility.

Rodrick_Kent: Pain, bright and new is exploding along my back as this young warrior squeezes tight. His strength maybe diminished but his position is solid and my own stamina is hardly fresh. I realize after another few long moments of struggling for position I don’t have leverage to counter. I feel the choke and scissors combination really starting to strain my throat and back. I need air soon or I am done for.

Rodrick_Kent: My hands at least obey my command as I grasp foe’s legs as his massive squeeze leaves no doubt to where they are. It then that I get my own strong legs firmly planted underneath me and with a supreme effort I slowly lift my foe up to about a two feet off the ground. I would prefer to make it to a standing position but even my powerful frame cannot manage that feat. I deliberately shift the two of us so my head is leaning further back than your thick back then I drive us back into the ground!

Rodrick_Kent: The impact is loud as we both grunt in shock and pain. Your hold however weakens ever so. With an excruciating effort I go to repeat my efforts even as your legs squeeze all the tighter. The second time I lift you faster but you maneuver to take the slam better. Again a bone jarring impact greets us as I am finally able to get a few gulps of air in my lungs. Still the second slam seems to only have inspired more battle lust in my foe. You begin to reapply your choke as I feel renewed pressure from the clench! With one last burst of effort I manage to lift use one last time. I drag your body up even as you twist around me, your muscles like some massive constructor around my body. Realizing another trip to the ground won’t break your hold I manage to lift you higher with my feet finally fully under me. Then I charge at the nearest weight rack, uncaring of what damage or head trauma I might suffer. What is important is that I drive this big bastard’s back hard into the heavy iron! This impact is so much louder, far more satisfying than expected as I feel your choke hold beak. Your thick back is slammed in the equipment, your predatorial taunting replaced with the sounds of pained groaning. Your legs begin to weaken as well, so much so I can pry them off my back as we both lay prone on the equipment. Rather than try to step away from you I stay in tight, my arms grabbing for you right ankle and giving it a simple but horrific twist. I apply my hold with a violent desire to payback the damage your choke inflicted. I pull my own frame back, extending your leg out from you body well twist the ankle brutally!

Petr_Chodura: With the first slam all I do is grit my teeth. Your huge weight coming down onto me, squeezing me between yourself and the ground… it was as if you were the hammer slamming the heated piece of iron into the anvil. With the second slam my lips parted, air forcibly pushed out of my lungs in a gasp. Quickly searching for a breath, I only tightened myself around you, putting in more strength that you were draining from me with each impact of my body. It was like riding a bull, trying to wear it out before it eventually impales me on its horns. Unfortunately that moment came around, which I wasn't expecting. How could you get up to your feet after being choked out so much? With my legs sinking into your sides… you were a monster. Each time I thought I had you, you somehow powered through. I was never met with such resistance. You stand up with my body still wrapped around you, the gravity dragging me down. Maybe if I just held on a little longer, maybe if I just— “ GAH! “

Petr_Chodura: A short, choked, breathless scream erupts from my throat as I'm slammed against the metal. My whole spine shooting out electric pain that caused my limbs to go limp. For a moment I'm completely stunned, trying to figure out how to get back into the action after I've been slammed — but then another sharp pain appears, this time tearing at the ligaments in my ankle. I cry out in pain and my body instinctively shifts towards the direction of your twist, trying my darnedest to lessen the pressure. My mind is scattered between the pain, the exhaustion and my multiple delusions. At first I tried to yank my foot out but it was only met with your resistance and more burn. I had to counterattack, to try to outsmart a mastermind that you were. So I turned to my back again and grabbed your foot. Pulling it upwards, I suddenly kicked up my freed leg and trapped your ankle beneath my thigh. hooking my knee over the back of your calf, I sat up with great struggle and took grasp of your massive thigh. Pulling it towards me and slowly laying back down, trying to make your femur go against your hip's ability to rotate. My teeth grounding together as I kept on releasing grunts and groans that were gurgling deep in my throat.

Rodrick_Kent: Son of a bitch has my leg! This crazy muscle boy thinks he can slay me at my own game! Fuck that! Even as my rival pulls on my thick thigh I return the favor to his ankle. We both grunt and groan as we slowly flex abdominal muscle to rise up to a sit position then slam back down hard drag our rivals’ leg with us! My leg begins to shake under your pressure but I refuse to give. Somehow we find each other gaze and snarl, an unspoken communication. It a dare, who can take more strain, more pain?

Rodrick_Kent: I try to flex my leg, to command my powerful wheels to defy your attack but damn this boy is strong! Still the only way through is forward so I hold your gaze and twist. Seeing you growl with fresh pain shooting through ankle helps me focus, but then you hit my own leg up, bending it, trying to break me as new pain flashes up my long leg. We stay clenched like that for over a minute, twisting each other in turn as we stare hard hoping the other will break!

Rodrick_Kent: Finally after close to another minute I cannot go on. I let out one final roar of effort and pain only to feel my grip slip. Instinct takes over as I pull at my leg, my hands desperately trying to free my injured limb. Your hands do like wise as we both suffer releasing low whispers of pain and promises of retribution. Before I know it we both pull away from the other, nursing our wounded legs. Pausing just long enough to recover our wits, rise to our feet and ready ourselves for more battle.

Petr_Chodura: I couldn't be more glad in that moment that I encountered a hero and not a villain. Someone that would snap my ankle. You were that Clark Kent that would never go for the kill — but still definitely would rush towards domination. I couldn't let my guard down even for a moment. You were bigger and had more cool. I was wild and creative. When outsmarting wasn't the way… using brute force didn't go well against your cool. I had to constantly switch from one to the other. That was the real challenge — you were the real challenge. Pulling my finally freed ankle up to me, I hold it in my hands. It maddened me, angered, enraged… you managed to fuck up my foot to the point where my kicking will be hindered. Even though I had powerful arms, my kicks were most refined.

Petr_Chodura: I had to keep in mind the state of my ankle, use only my shin and make sure to not stand on the injured side. I slowly pulled myself up and I locked my eyes on you. The situation changed. We were no longer a wall and a sledgehammer, my perception changed. You were an elephant, with its leg bleeding. I was a lion, with my foot crushed beneath that massive leg. You had the size on me, I had the bottomless hunger of a predator. So as I finally stood up, I tried feeling out the capabilities that weren't yet drained by the twist. I huffed and panted, yet somehow I felt recovered from the slam that stunned me just a couple of minutes ago. We weren't fighting long, yet in my head it felt like forever. I started walking, circling, looking for spots I might have already tenderized a little. Your sides were squeezed by my quads… I could use that. Raising my guard, I used those thick forearms as a wall. “ Come here… Come here, Kent. Let me fold you. “ I taunted, my voice so breathy. Taking in more air as I slightly hunched my back — I had years of experience when it came to throwing fists at fellow brothers in the army. All I had to do was make sure to efficiently tank and counter your hits. Shoulders rolling, I was getting pumped again. The fight reentering my system.

Rodrick_Kent: Petr calls me, challenges me to come to him as if that was necessary. I circle with him hustling enough to test my balance. The leg is not in great shape but looking at Petr I am at least on even footing after what I did to his ankle. This guy is a fighter sure, but I 40 pounds on him and my rage is a more controlled thing. So let’s go!

Rodrick_Kent: I step in closer to my newest opponent, find my pacing and throw a pair of fast right hands. A pair of jabs to his guard. Those punches are just to feel his defenses out and not surprisingly Petr raise his arms and tanks my strikes. I follow up by shifting my stance, take a two steps left and throwing a big left uppercut to his kidney. I feel my fist sink into flank, hardened muscles caving to my punch!

Petr_Chodura: Massive fists, heavy swings. I knew you were about to hit me like a truck. With all that weight and all that muscle, it was a guarantee that I'd have to be heavy on defense. Normally I would have an easy time evading someone so slow but… you decided to fuck up my ankle. Once again, you were very smart to do so. My forearms absorb the first jabs but with the uppercut incoming I had to suddenly turn my body to the side. Letting my back take the most of the damage, causing me to take a step in recoil. I had to pay you back with hits of my own. My right swung as soon as your arm was pulling away, knuckles slamming into the forearm which was still guarding your face. I followed up with an uppercut of my own, going straight into your chin. The impact powerful enough to send your head flying back. I wasn't pulling back on this, I knew it was my best chance to knock you out cold. My instinct went to a kick, instinctively standing shifting all the Wright to that foot… I hissed in pain and instead took a step back, creating some distance. Shit. It would've been a nice combo. Fuck you, Rodrick Kent, for ruining it.

Rodrick_Kent: My jawline stings with pain, but thanks to my battles with my alpha rivals and omega bros it is nothing new. You have not experienced real pain till you have to endure Zack’s quads crushing your skull. I shake my head and take a step back letting the power of your uppercut drive me. It gives me just enough room to throw a fully extend haymaker! My left arm pulls back like a cannon, feeling my shoulders and fist tighten with raw power and violent intent. I am not for Petr’s face but rather the space behind it!

Rodrick_Kent: The cracking sound on impact is a thing of simple beauty. Petr guard was just out of place, his reaction too slow, it’s his wounded ankle. His nose feels the heavy weight and force of my fist! His head snaps back and I waste no time. I target his health leg, shooting low and wrapping my bulging arms around his knee. Then I aggressively lift, pulling his good leg out from under forcing his wound ankle to try and keep his balance. For a brief moment he struggles with that wild primal aggression then suddenly he starts to fall. Still holding his leg I lift him up entirely by those weaken legs and I throw my foe with all the strength I can muster!

Petr_Chodura: My nose shatters and the grimace on my face really speaks for the pain. As my nostrils start overflowing with blood, my lips part and my panting becomes apparent. Before I have time to regain my guard, your arm is already wrapping around my ankle and lifting it up. I growl in frustration as your intelligence once again keeps putting you in spots of great advantage. Hopping on the fucked up foot brought me even more of that bunring sensation but I knew that if I didn't react, I would be done for. So to prop myself up for balance, I grab the back of your head into my palm and forcefully push it down. Exposing your nape, I start slamming my elbow repeatedly into it, harsh thuds sounding out twice before I lose balance. My body lifted up and then slammed into the ground, I skid across and immediately roll over.

Petr_Chodura: Getting on all fours, coughing from having my breath so suddenly knocked out of me. Blood dripping from my face— it wasn't looking good. As you were approaching, I was sluggish getting back up. With your size advantage I knew you would try to keep me pinned down. Quickly regaining the clarity of mind, enraged by how well your were doing, as you were close enough — I suddenly lunged forward, slamming my shoulder right into your gut. My arms immediately wrapping around your ribs, I lock my fingers together behind your back. I had to deal as much damage as I could before you muster to push me off. So I stood on my healthy leg and started driving my knee right into your kidney. Once, twice, thrice, I wasn't planning on stopping. With each knee digging into your flesh, bruising your skin, you hear a guttural groan. Those massive biceps bulging, trying to cave into your ribs as my face, tightly pressed into your clavicle, stained you with my blood.

Rodrick_Kent: If I was not trying so hard to wreck this guy I would be impressed. I tank a big shoulder tackle to my abdominals. It does not have enough power or momentum to drive me back but your follow up is lightning fast. Out of no where driven by fury and pure adrenaline you locks in a solid bear hug. My ribs creak as I flex my lats, pushing against your tighten arms with my expanding torso. Still even with that added protection I can feel your squeeze bruising my flesh. It hurts like hell but I can manage it I tell myself as I move my arms in hoping to break your crushing hug.

Rodrick_Kent: That is when your knee start coming up faster and faster into my kidney. It’s a savage tempo you set as your knee repeat targets my kidney. I groan in pain as your arms keep trying to snap my ribs! 

Rodrick_Kent: Maintaining a bearhug and getting the space for knee strike really don't pair well from a positional standpoint, but somehow in your berserker savagery you make the combo work. Pain begins to overwhelm my other senses as my entire torso aches. The pain is building faster even than my own need to destroy this punk. Without any conscious thought I grab the back of your head and drag you up by your hair. Once we are eye level I snap my head forward bring the crown of my head straight into your already bloody battered nose!

Petr_Chodura: With your forehead slamming into my already ruined nose, two blood clots blow out, one from each nostril. Tears immediately started streaming down my cheeks as ichor completely filled my sinuses and backed down into my throat. My mouth is starting to well up with that metallic taste. If you were fighting anyone else — they would give up. They would get scared and overwhelmed. If their nose no longer held shape, if they could barely breathe, and if each of their new breaths meant they had to swallow their own blood down. I was just a little different from everyone else. I've been trained how to block my own artery wounds. I was forced to swim for multiple minutes without being able to take a breath. I was trained to survive the most cruel and grueling conditions.

Petr_Chodura: So as I'm forced to breathe from my mouth, you see me lick my lips, which then curl into a nasty smirk that was filling up with blood and— SLAM, SLAM, SLAM. Your side was caving in as that kidney of yours was being battered relentlessly. With each kick I let out a gurgling, short groan that pushes more ichor from both my nose and lips. My head couldn't do much – all I could do was to press my chin flat into my chest so you couldn't easily headbutt me into that slimy nose. My arms that were locked around your ribs were shaking, draining all the strength they had left to keep you in your place. While my knee made sure that your kidney was pushed past pain and forced into internal damage category. Hell — if you vomited all over my head and back from the sheer intensity of that pain, I would be utmost satisfied. Overwhelm, overwhelm, overwhelm. My brain kept screaming that word at me as I was completely overtaken by the insane urge to make you fall and submit.

Rodrick_Kent: My side is splitting the agony, even with your legs weaken by our fight. My opponent is just a berserker at this point. The thrill of the fight is starting to ebb as I realize we have crossed into something else, something far darker. Still my one saving grace as I suffer this offensive combo is my foe’s maddening aggression. Is it giving him crazy endurance, undoubtedly. That said knee strikes need a more space to really build power but trying to crush my ribs with a bearhugs is limiting that range and power. Don’t get me wrong it still hurts like hell but every time Petr strikes me his bearhugs slips as his boy reposition itself. From a stance and power standpoint Petr is cutting off his nose to spit his face. So I take advantage of that, to take advantage of that very very hard.

Rodrick_Kent: As your knee comes up for another strike my left arm strikes out and hooks your leg just under the kneecap. It hurts sure, but rage only gets you so far. “Should have …. pinned my arms.” I mutter between clenched teeth!

Rodrick_Kent: My right arm curls around your right arm maintaining your killer squeeze on my ribs and then I pivot. With a silently effort, my face a snarling expression I lift and twist. Up your tightly muscular frame comes, my strength able to break your weakened stance. I spin us both as I lift and once again slam your body into solid earth. The ground caves under the collective mass and power as our bodies settle!

Rodrick_Kent: I feel your body twist even as I plant your frame into the ground. No fucking quit in this beast. Hell he is going to choke on his own fucking blood in this position! Normally I would tighten up my position, pin a guy down and wait for him to tap, but this guy is next level. Instead I push my larger mass onto his tors, my right arm holding his left arm having pulled it off my torso. Even still his left arm struggles lightly against my grip. His legs struggle too, but that is no problem as my left arm release his knee. I take one moment to measure my position against Pete’s prone form then I bring my extend left fist down with all of precision and power!

Rodrick_Kent: My fist finds the temple of Petr’s skull and finally the young warrior cease his struggle. Knocked out for at least the moment, I see my foe is a ghastly visage, our brief battle having taken toll. Fresh blood and bruise mix with his older scars, his chest rises and fall slowly. How long where we even fight and how fucking tough is this guy?!?

Petr_Chodura: I lack strength. I lack power. Something that never happened before. As both of my feet leave the ground again, the frustration that I feel inside is stronger than any pain I felt during this whole time. It was tearing at me from inside, pushing my guts up my throat and leaving an empty space in my stomach. The nothingness grows and is immediately filled with hate. Towards you, towards what was about to happen, towards myself… I just couldn't understand it. I couldn't accept the image of me losing. To someone younger. To someone who should be less experienced. I made so many mistakes in that fight because of my delusions. I never felt it and I wanted to dig this feeling out of my body, I wanted to scratch and bite into my skin till the word has no space to take place. Yet it did — loser.

Petr_Chodura: I was a loser. I lost. I could feel it as your words pierced my brain with a nine inch nail, piercing its scrolls to the wall of my skull. Then came the fall. My fingers curled into fists as the madness that drove me so far was promising my body that I could still win. However my spirit was broken, curb stomped. It should've never happened. I should've never lost. Losing my first fight in the place full of ordinary people— my pride will never be the same. My body crashed into the soil with a thud and thank God it wasn't a crunch, otherwise it would've been a sickening none. The shock of the impact wants to jolt into my limbs but they were pinned down by something so incredibly heavy — you.

Petr_Chodura: The shock finds no way out and so my organs rattle and tremor inside me. My lungs get squished, ribs barely able to withstand this slam. The air pushed out of me manifesting in a sudden gush of blood and saliva erupting from between my lips, painting my entire mouth and neck in a quickly darkening crimson. Then down came your first that was ruthless and held no mercy. The final act of humiliation dished out by the hero of this story. Eyes bulging out before being forcefully shut by my brain which got brutally banged around in my skull. Those fingers that I so tightly wrapped, now falling apart, the muscles in my palms spasming. I was out. Cold. I wasn't even sure what knocked me out. The impact of the knuckles or the pressure that the massive body of the winner kept on applying onto my frame. I was sick. I was sick with the loss. It felt like the plague, made my skin tainted and dirty. It itched as if thousands of small ants were taking apart my body. It was just my blood, rushing through my veins to keep me from shutting down the system of my organs from the sheer embarrassment that I couldn't bear. It was the last thing I felt. Together with the overwhelming dread of losing.

Rodrick_Kent: I roll away from unconscious opponent, the weight of the fight full upon me. My ribs ache, my left knee is still uncomfortable, and my kidney feels like constant dull pain. I roll to all fours and spit up on the grass. A mix of blood and fluid leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Slowly I push up to my knees and take a deep breath. The thrill of combat is still in my system, but as the adrenaline and testosterone start fade I engage my reasoning again. Why were we even fighting? There was something about his stance, his very presence that wanted a fight, need a conquest, to express some mad thought. As for me I was in a shit mood but the rush of strength and skill measured so hard has my endorphins flowing in the right direction. Despite many wounds I feel a great, like the afterglow of something so satisfying.

Rodrick_Kent: I rise slowly and make my way to a bench. I few watching the fallen form of my opponent. His is a strange combination of strength, stamina and coiled emotions. He is despite the battle damage a handsome man, with chiseled features and saggy yet stylish hair. 

Rodrick_Kent: He reminds me of a thunderstorm clouds on the horizon, majestic and exciting to look up but you just know something powerful and dark are coiled in the clouds. A waiting storm this Petr Chodura, but I just weathered it.

Rodrick_Kent: I don’t know why but I wait for him to wake up. I might not be wise but I want to stay, to speak with him.

Petr_Chodura: My breath suddenly hitches and my wake up call comes much faster than one would expect. The thickening, oozing blood that was clogging my throat became too much of an obstacle for air. With a violent jerk of my body, I immediately flip to my stomach and push myself to all fours. As my limbs were shaking, I started violently retching, trying to get rid of all the mucus and ichor that was stuck in me. After coughing out a horrible mixture of god knows what, I roll away from the cursed puddle. On my back once again, I heave for air, eyes closed. They were burning. Everything was burning. Everything was shaking. I was shaking. I felt… weak. My face no longer has a stoic display, the grimace very apparent. Slowly pushing myself to sit, I open my eyes and look around for my shirt — instead I find you. I frown wondering why you were still there. Probably enjoying the moment of glory, rubbing salt into my very much open wounds. I knew I was immature. My thoughts were immature. I didn't care, my pride was too hurt. Snatching my shirt, I immediately start pushing myself further up, getting to my feet. Not uttering a word, too ashamed to speak to someone I challenged to a fight — and then got crushed by. I had to leave, I had to go.

Rodrick_Kent: “Slow it down there Slugger. I wanted to see if you know your way to the Student Health building? You might need x-ray, you definitely need a doctor.” I try to keep my tone neutral, respectful of his prowess. My ego is satisfied, no need to be a jerk about it. I stand too, my feet feeling firmer, my legs show little to no weakness despite the intense battle we just shared. I don’t bar you path but I do step in beside you.

Rodrick_Kent: “You pack a hell of lot of fight into 200 pounds Chodura. Not many me can go that hard with me.” I say, my statement probing, trying to determine where your mindset is at. Are we enemies, is this over, do you need something I can offer? My thoughts are a little confused, maybe punch drunk but I want to know. “You fight like an Omega, like one of my bros.”

Petr_Chodura: I wanted to bark. So bad. There was no bite left in me. Each time I opened my lips, my throat tightened and stopped me from muttering out even a syllable. All I could do was look at you. My gaze so chaotic and complicated, it was too much to figure out what I was exactly feeling. I couldn't figure it out either. Kent beat me. I got beaten. My nose was broken, my ankle was still hurting to the point of limping… and you were in a state that seemed so untouched. I wanted to explode, I had the need to explode. Your patronizing words kept sending sparks at my fuse, teasingly daring it to catch flame. All I could do was turn my head away like a coward. Tear my sight away, keep my maw shut, grind my teeth. I needed time, I needed to be alone. To scream at nothing. So I straightened my back. I started setting my damaged foot correctly on the ground. I was a soldier. In the many past years I had to march no matter my condition. Run no matter my condition — and I was very much capable of taking care of myself. It was clear, could be understood just from looking at me. I will be fine… and I won't answer for a while. However it wasn't the end of my time in the hero's story. After all, good villains stick around for a while. Right?

Rodrick_Kent: He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t need to. His posture straightens and he walk with an assured confidence. I can tell he is hurting and what's more its not just the wounds from this fight. When we were facing off in the beginning I sense it but didn’t recognize it till just now. Petr Chodura is complicated and wounded, a lone wolf in a fury over things I could possibly know. Part of me wants to reach out. Still I have more respect for the fight we just had, not to mention my own wounds to attend to. I watch as he walks off, then I turn to collect my shirt and take my leave of the battlefield. As I move back towards the Omega House I cannot shake the feeling this encounter is somehow unfinished.

Rodrick_Kent: - The End -