The buzzer rang as the second to last touch was scored. "La belle!" Said the director over the obnoxious buzzer "Green touch!".

Damn it, that one hurt! I thought, wincing from the pain as I retreated to my side of the fencing strip, shaking the burning sensation out of my arm.

This guy was good, really good. He had barreled into me like a freight train, a huge departure from his earlier calculated cuts and feints that he had been doing for the past few engagements, he had caught me off guard.

I glanced at the scoreboard, four to four, it was match point.

I guess he would be pretty good, with this being the final bout of the tourney after all.

Reaching my en garde line, I gave my saber a quick twirl before turning to face my opponent. This was gonna be a tough last point, but I wasn't about to let my opponent steamroll me again.

Alright, time to tip the scales!

"En garde!" Said the director, "fencers ready?"

Both of us saluted to each other, an unspoken bond of mutual respect as equals before sinking down into our en garde stances.

The world seemed to slow as I took a deep, calming breath. Though the wire frame of my mask, I could see my opponent shift his stance forward just a little bit in anticipation. His mistake.

He's gonna rush me again. I realized, changing my grip on my weapon into a more solid one, I broke down my strategy in my head. A straightforward rush to finish the tourney and break right through my parry... he's getting impatient. I took another breath. In that case... when he does, jump backwards just out of reach of his lunge, parry head if you need to. Dart back in to feint his open side, but drop and get his wrist.

With a plan in my head, as well as several contingencies if things went wrong, I waited.

The Director bought his hands together, "fence!"

After a rush and a few clashes of blades, the buzzer sounded.

The cold wind bit through my college sweatshirt as I pulled my hood up tighter around my ears. "Why didn't I think it would snow on Christmas eve?" I grumbled to nobody in particular, readjusting the shoulder strap of my equipment bag as I made my way back home from the local fencing center.

I pulled my ribbon out of my pocket. It read: 57th annual Christmas Blade Dance Tournament First Place Winner. Seriously though, who holds a fencing tournament on Christmas Eve? Mom's gonna have my hide if I don't get back home for Christmas dinner...

Sighing heavily, I shoved the ribbon back into the pocket of my hoodie and continued my trek through the snow. I may have been the one complaining about it, but I was still the idiot who had gone to said tournament, and was now trudging through the snow as a result.

At least I'm wearing my boots and not my sneakers. I thought, just thinking about how cold my feet would have been made feel numb.

Somewhere a clock began to chime.

I pulled out my phone, the time was 7:42 PM. Crap! I'm late! Panicking, I began to pick up the pace and start running to the bus stop. Not my original plan, but it might get me home in time for me to sneak in with no one noticing.

one... two... three... four...

It didn't take me long to get to the bus stop, even though I was gasping for breath the whole time I was running.

five... six... seven... eight...

Where was it? The bus was usually here around 7:45!

nine... ten... eleven... twelve...

The street was deserted. I pulled out my phone again, but it wouldn't turn on. I had no idea what time it was.

...thirteen...

Author's Note

So originally this was gonna be longer but...

Well...

I kinda looked at the length of this thing and it was 666 words exactly.

It seemed fitting!