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We have to stick together. You don't want to let the others down, do you?”
                  Jake blinked. Those words... they seemed so familiar. He had heard them somewhere before? But the roar of the crowd prevented him from concentrating. He shook his head.
                  “That a boy,” Shamus said. “Now get in there and make me proud.” Shamus peeled off Jake's shirt and pushed him into the center of the circle the crowd had formed. There, Malic waited for him. McClanahan squared them up.
                  “Now, you boys know the rules. You tap out, you lose; you pass out, you lose. Otherwise, everything else is fair game. The first round is three minutes. Good luck, son.” McClanahan said, winking at Jake.
                  Jake gave the man a strange look. What was that supposed to mean? That's when Malic's right hook connected with Jake's jaw.
                  The crowd erupted into a roar as Jake crumpled. The impact of the blow sent him toppling backwards. There he laid, motionless in the dirt and stray straws of hay.
                  “Ha! One punch!” Malic shouted, beating his chest with a closed fist. “Who's king of the cage?”
                  “Malic! Malic! Ma-” The crowd suddenly went silent. “The boy's getting back up,” someone said.
                  Malic looked behind him. Jake was slowly rising, first to his knees, then to his feet. His eye was black and his lip was leaking, but he staggered back to the center all the same.
                  “Hit me,” Jake said, spitting blood at Malic's feet.
                  Malic just gawked at him, stupefied. “Aren't you gonna put your hands up?”
                  “Hit me!” Jake said again.
                  Malic looked at McClanahan, confused.
                  “You heard him! I got a lot of money riding on this. Take his head off! He's mocking you!” McClanahan shouted.
                  Malic didn't like that idea. He cocked back and fired another right hook. Jake caught it on the chin. This time he only staggered and did not fall. Malic's face was tomato red. He threw a jab with his left, connecting with Jake's nose. Jake only came back. Enraged now, Malic fired a flurry of blows. A left, a right, another right, each one heavier than the last.
                  “He's going to kill him... Stop the fight!” McClanahan said.
                  “No!” Shamus stepped in to stop him. “You know the rules. He has to get knocked out or give up.”
                  McClanahan looked as Shamus in disbelief, then scoffed. “Ok, it's your boy. I'm not the one who has to bury him.”
                  “Raur!” Malic howled, pounding mercilessly on Jake's face. He had thrown so many punches they were getting lighter now. His breath was shallow. He was strong, but had little endurance. “Go down!” Malic said, swinging with a wild hay-maker. It caught Jake on the temple, and he fell to his knees.
                  Jake could feel the malice of the crowd now. The pent up anger and bitterness. They all wanted to see it, too. They wanted to see Jake's life end, right there on the barren barn floor. Their ill will awakened the monster inside Jake. He could not hold it back any longer. The torrent of venom broke the levy, and it coursed through his veins.
                  With lightning speed, Jake caught a blow from Malic in his right hand and threw it aside. His eyes were glowing like hot coals. He felt the fire burning in his lungs. Malic's wild blow threw him off balance. He fired one more shot at Jake, but it was slow and sluggish, a result of fatigue.
                  Jake ducked the strike and countered with one of his own. It was swift, precise. There was a dull crunch as Jake's fist connected with Malic's