Authors: Kurt Bartling
Michael’s
right hand
comes down
hard
on the extended
arm
, while
his
lef
t
fist
accelerates
u
p,
striking with tremendous force
,
just above the elbow. The combination of the
monster
’
s
fully extended
limb
,
the downward
leverage
at
the
fist
,
coupled with
the incredib
l
e
acceleration of the
blow
on
the elbow from below
,
snaps the joint like a stick, t
he
massive
fore
arm
rotating
, unnaturally,
in a
downward
arc
.
The monster screams in agony
,
shock
sweeping his face
.
Without hesitation,
Michael
’
s right arm changes direction,
hurtling
forward as his hips
rotate
right and up.
His
fist
,
turned
vertically,
his
first and second f
ingers
extend
ed
at the
second knuckle
form
ing
a blunt point
, strike
s
the monster in the throat
, finding
the soft spot above the V
created by the clavicle bones, cutting off the man’s screams.
The monster’s head snaps forward then back, his upper body
lurches
as his
feet leav
e
the
mat
. The amount of power created by
the punch of the smaller foe into the much larger body
is unexpected.
The monster lands
on his back and
crumbles
to the mat
.
Everyone in attendance knows the monster is not getting back up. T
he crowd deathly silent for
seconds, explodes.
The fight ends immediately.
Michael, surprise
d
, stares first at
the monster then at his fists.
Shocked, gaping
at
the crum
p
led giant
,
then
turning
his attention to
the young man standing over the
mound of human mass,
the promoter
ignites with fury.
M
ak
ing
his
way to the cage entrance,
Michael
c
limb
s
down the stairs leading to
the
floor
,
com
ing
face to face with the
incensed
promoter.
The furious man
utters
a
single
guttural
word
;
“hall
way”, turns and
st
alks
to the entrance.
“Fuck!” Michael
swear
s
,
then turns and
slowly
follows
in
the promoter’s
wake
. S
pectators lining the walkway congratulate and
pat him on the back
as he moves through the
crowd
.
Cautiously,
he
approaches
the
exasperated man
,
now
standing
alone in the darkened hallway.
The promote
r turns, face ablaze,
“
What the fuck!
Who
the hell
put you in my cage?”
Stunned by the accusation, Michael understands
,
h
e needs to diffuse th
e
situation
quick
ly
.
T
his
man
can ‘
black ball
’
him,
mak
ing
it impossible to get into the ring without drawing
unwanted
attention
or
worse,
prevent him from fighting altogether
.
He
had
n’t expect
ed
the fight to end
quite the
way it did
.
Having fought
several matches
,
Michael
can’t
recall
doing so much damage
with so much precision
, and no idea w
h
y
.
Before he has a chance to
defend himself, or
say anything,
the red
head enters the hallway.
W
earing a turquoise blouse and
form-fitting
black
jeans
,
he
can tell immediately
,
she’ll create a
distract
ion
,
and w
ith luck,
enough
to make his exit. As much as he needs the money, there are other cages
to
make it back.
Too much interaction with a
prom
oter can have lasting effects.
“That’s a hell of a fighter you’ve got there. You’ll make a fortune off him.”
She says.
S
urprise
d by her insinuation the fight was a
setup;
Michael
finds
h
er timing
inopportune
.
The
promoter
immediately t
urns
to Michael.
There goes
his
opening.
T
h
e
dubious lowlife
considers
h
er words, t
he hamster wheel
turning in his greasy hair
ed head. The smile, Cheshire cat
-like, emerges slowly.
Moving in next to the promoter,
Rena
inserts herself into
the
encounter.
“I’ll keep your secret,
b
ut you have to let me know when he fights again.
”
She
pauses to consider
him
with a fervent glance, “
A girl’s got to
eat
too
,
you know.”
Scanning
the fighter’s
body, s
he
considers the handsome young man
, rather like a piece of meat, then
turns her attention back to
his
assumed accomplice
.
As
Michael
expected,
the redhead
distracts the promoter
.
I
n close
proximity to this attractive young woman
, the promoter’s face goes blank. S
tammer
ing and fumbling
for words,
he
babbl
es
a couple
incoherent
sentences
and then shuts up.
“Keep him well
fed
. H
e’
ll need to keep his strength up.
”
Rena suggests,
a
pplying
the final touches
to
her
manipulation
.
The promoter
turns
his attention
again
to Michael, a crooked smile forming slowly from the blank expression.
Like a dee
r in
headlights
, he pulls Michael
’
s winning
s
from the roll stuffed in his shirt pocket.
“
Abso
lutely! Gotta
keep the boy fed.”
Rena
smiles, turns and walks out without saying a
nother
word.
The
lowlife
watches her
leave
,
not realizing she never g
ave him
a name. He
turns back to
Michael,
“You let me know when you want another fight. Don’t
you
go fighting in anyone else’s cage.
M
y cage
only.
You and me, we’re
going to make a
lot of money
.”
The
promoter
grins malevolently,
turns,
and
walks back down to the cage.
With a curious smile,
Michael
watches the odd man leave, shrugs
and
then
runs
o
ff up the hallway after the red
head.
Reaching
the all glass
front
doors, he sees her standing on the sidewalk
,
looking down the street, obviously
searching
for
something in the distanc
e.
Mi
chael exits onto the street, catching
her
eye
. She turns
,
giving him
her
full
attention.
Her gaze fixed and unflinching,
he
finds her calm demeanor unsettling.
Crossing the sidewalk,
he
starts addressi
ng her
immediately,
“I don’t know if I should thank you or
be pissed
? You got me paid, but you may have made m
e that asshole’s mule.”
s
top
ping
directly i
n front of her.
Out on the streets, with more lights, he now fully
consider
s
her appearance. Unlike her, his eyes
remain
focused on her face;
teardrop
shaped with
high subtle cheekbones, small cute nose
and lightly tanned
complexion
. Her
appearance
is not
artificial
with sharp features that seem
unearthly or goddess-like.
M
ost definitely
attractive
,
her beauty
is
more natural and
unquestionably
earthly. Even
up
close
, she still seemed approachable.
Standing
about a half foot shorter than him,
her
dark red hair parted over her
left
eye,
if left
to
hang
down
freely
,
was
down her back
.
At
this time
,
she
had
it
pulled tight to the back o
f her head and
braid
ed
, falling just below the neck
.
When she l
ooked up, her eyes
startled him, a
lmond shaped
and
a
most striking
bright
turquoise color
, the same
as her blouse.
Finding no indication of contacts,
h
e’d nev
er seen eyes this color before. S
ilent
,
Michael
wait
s
for her to say something.