Touché [Possible MA-15 Rating]

[Devil Theory]

Part One; The Introduction

My fist flew through the air and collided with his cheek, and I felt it cave in under the pressure. I felt a tooth dislodge, and I saw blood fly out of his mouth. As he fell to the floor I smirked sadistically. Why was I enjoying this?

He got back up and leered at me, before running in, swinging his arms frantically. A crowd had began to gather, but I wasn't paying much attention to them. The boy, about a year older than I was, didn't stop swinging his arms, and he was coming at me fast. Before he reached me I threw my arm forward, and it connected with his nose. I felt the sickening, familiar crunch of cartilage breaking, and saw more blood flow from his body. That didn't seem to stop him though.

I decided that I'd worked the face too hard; time to target the torse. He stopped swinging his arms now, instead actually throwing a punch, which I ducked, moved in closer to his body and unloaded on his stomach. I retreated and he doubled over, and I seized this opportunity to fling my leg up, catching him in the face with my shoe. He fell to his knees, and began to fall backwards as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. To make sure he was down, I hit him in the face one more time, and it was over.

"Fight! Fight! Fi-"

A teacher was pushing her way through the crowd in an attempt to get to the source of it. She stopped in hororr when she reached the center of the circle, as she saw a seventeen year old boy led on the floor, caked in blood, with a disfigured nose, and me, stood up proud, blood dripping off my knuckles. She approached me, wagging her finger, and I stood my ground.

"What gives you the right to go around beating people up, Joe??"

I shrugged, and titled my head. The crowd made an 'oooooh!' noise. I wasn't focused on them. My eyes darted back and forth from the teacher to the zombie look-a-like on the ground.

"Well?!"

I shrugged again. "Nothing. Nothing gives me the right to go around beating people up. I don't do it because I can, miss."

"Well why do you do it then?"

"Because it feels good."

Her jaw dropped and she looked at me in a sickening way. She pointed in the direction of the priniciples office, and I stood staring at her.

"WELL?!"

"... well what?"

"Move it!"

I laughed slightly. She lowered her arm and raised an eyebrow.

"What's so funny?"

"You are. Pointing in the direction of where you want me to go, that's classy. Use your words next time, miss, yeah?"

She was fuming, and I was chuffed. I slowly made my way through the crowd, ignoring the various death threats the boys friends gave me, and to the principles office. This was a normal, run-of-the-mill occurance for me. And that was the truth I told, back there. The only reason I fight people is because it does feel good. Otherwise, why bother?

And you know, so far, I've never lost.

 

[Esper]

The teacher is a bit of a stereotype, what with that wagging finger. More importantly, your character looks like he's already on the road to becoming something of a Marty Stu (effortlessly defeating his opponents, thumbing his nose at authority, shrugging nonchalantly while others are confounded by his wit). You labeled it as Part One, so I hope you've got something you're planning to throw at Joe that he has trouble with.

You have a few typos here and there (torse, instead of torso) and perhaps too many "I" statements. "I saw blood fly out of his mouth" could easily be "Blood flew out of his mouth." Thankfully, your grammar and pacing look quite good.