by Riley Tune
The time of the elites were more so legend than fact now. So, the thought of coming in contact with another being with spell-like gifts, but being from another dimension would be far from any of their minds. Even the technology Perkins used to get there wasn’t widely used outside of her team.
“Now the current champion is a different story,” Abel continued. “How so?” Flex asked. “Manis has been on top for a long time. Longest run a champion has ever had. I think it’s been a little over twenty,” Abel counted in his head as he tried to run the calculations. He wanted to be as accurate as he could with his guess. “About twenty days.” Flex fought the urge to laugh.
“That’s it?” Flex asked. “Twenty days of fighting,” Abel continued on. “Twenty days. Each day would have about three or four tournaments, each with a person trying to become the new champion of the cage. Manis defeated them all.” Flex let this sink in and found himself smiling.
For all of his training and leadership skills, he always did enjoy a good fight. He would never admit it to Hunter, but even when they were more enemies than friends he had enjoyed when they had these physical interactions. When you were as strong as he was, a good fight was usually welcomed, and often won. Except for with Hunter.
No, when he and Hunter tangled those two times, they were stopped on both occasions. Even during training, neither of them went full power to really put it all on the line. “So, he must have one heck of a spell,” Flex said. The roar of the crowd was getting louder, and as they continued to move Flex could smell what appeared to be sewage lofting on the air. “Strength,” Abel said. “Just like you.” Flex nodded.
“Although, you’re certainly the better looking between you both. All that purple on him it’s hard to tell what he truly looks like,” Abel said. “All you have to do is win. You win and we all get paid.” he continued. “Well we all get paid, but I will be getting paid better.” Abel let out a long laugh at his own joke. “So, why don’t you fight?” Flex asked Abel. Abel furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Your spell seems like it would be hard to beat,” Flex continued. Abel released a slow and rusty laugh.
“You’d think so, but simply clog your ears, and I’m powerless. Then the rest of the fight, I’d just be trying to win on skill or luck. Too much risk. It’s easier to be a betting man.” Flex shook his head. “And that is working so well for you.” Abel ignored his remark and continued talking. “I’ll be your checker, naturally,” Abel said to Flex. “My what?” Abel shook his head. “Just listen to what I say, when I say it.” Abel took a deep breath and turned the corner in the hall.
As Flex did the same, he realized that they were out of the hall now. Instead, they were inside something much, much worse. They were inside a massive ribcage. Flex stood at the entrance and looked around him. It was hard to see from where he was, but from what he gathered, the entire area was constructed on the inside of the bones of a massive creature’s skeleton, and they were currently in the ribcage. The area they had just walked through was some sort of tail with a hallway crafted on the inside of it.
Abel raised his hand in a grand gesture. “I give you, the cage.” “I see. The name is unoriginal, but I see how it fits, nonetheless.” Flex said calmly. Under the cage, a large hole was dug that had chairs all around it. Each chair had a person inside screaming and waving their arms around. The area was so crowded that people were even standing and cheering because there weren’t enough chairs.
“The Wardens just let this happen?” Flex asked. “It seems too out in the open,” he said as he looked around expecting to see food vendors of some sort.
“Omega takes a large portion of the profits,” Abel grunted. Omega, Flex thought to himself. He kept hearing that name but only briefly. As if they didn’t want to talk too much about the person, or organization, or whatever it was. “Alright, have at it,” Abel said.
As he said the words, he casually placed a hand on Flex’s back and pushed him forward. As he moved, he could see a worn path in the dirt that lead to the lower level of the large hole. Down below a single man who was shirtless like Flex, stood jogging in place and punching the air. “A new combatant emerges from the outside world.”
The voice boomed around the fighting area and was so sudden that it caused Flex to pause in search of its source. On the opposite of the arena, in the middle of a crowd of chairs, standing on a platform was a man with a smile on his face that for some reason reminded Flex of a car salesman. His clothes were still as tattered as everyone else’s but they were a pale gray color.
Flex assumed they were actually white once upon a time, and the ravages of time and dirt had slowly turned them. From what Flex could see, the man was broad shouldered with a bald head and a very wide nose. “Abel has returned, and is asking to use this new fighter to reclaim his lost glory,” the man said. His voice once again boomed around the massive crowd. With each word from the man, the crowd seemed to get louder with hollers and cheers.
The man’s voice exploded around the crowd again, and it did so on its own. Flex could see the man talking, but he didn’t use anything to amplify his voice. Abel took in a deep breath behind Flex. “That’s the conductor of the fights. His only job is to keep the crowd excited.” “He seems to be good at it too,” Flex said. “I’m guessing that his loud voice is his spell?” Abel nodded. “It’s not destructive, though. Just loud. Took him a while to find a use for it.”
Flex continued his descent down into the area. “And this person I’m fighting, any spell I should know about?” Flex asked. Abel made a clicking with his teeth. “Acid projectile saliva is what I believe it is,” Abel replied. Flex laughed. “He spits acid,” Flex said as a smirk spread across his face.
This time, Abel stopped walking as he watched Flex move. For some reason, the smile on his face made him look at his new hunk of a fighter in a new light. Flex walked into the area and heard Abel shout out to him. “This is as far as I can go.” Flex gave a slight thumbs up and continued to walk over to the man. He had stopped bouncing around now. Instead, he glared at Flex and spat on the ground.
As the spit touched the ground it sizzled and created a hole underneath it. “Okay,” the conductor said as he looked down on the fighters. “You know the rules. To the death unless one of you gives up.” This caused Flex to jerk his head towards Abel, who in returned shrugged and sat in a chair. Flex wasn’t going to kill this man for no reason. It wasn’t his way, and it wasn’t the hero way.
He was better than that and found himself suddenly thinking about his sister. He was pulled from his thoughts as two large globs of spit splattered against his massive exposed chest. Flex looked down at the spot where on a normal man would be two holes burning towards his organs. He heard a faint crackle, and then flicked the spit away.
The man on the other side followed Flex’s flicking hand as he ignored his first attack. Now even some of the crowd had shut up and paid attention. The man charged forward and punched Flex in the face. As a result, his fist broke with a loud pop that made the crowd explode in cheers. “We have a bonified powerhouse from Abel’s corner,” the conductor said as the crowd began to clap.
Flex grabbed the man by his still intact hand and with ease slung him into the crowd about twenty feet away. Flex called for Abel to come into the area. After a few moments of hesitation, he ran to his fighter. “I want the other two at the same time,” Flex said as Abel’s eyes widened. “I, I,” Abel stammered. “Trust me, they want to see the show, and I don’t have all day. Make it happen,” Flex told him.
“You’re one good looking crazy fool of a man,” Abel said as his eyes darted down to the exposed chest and ripped midsection on Flex. “I’ll see what I can do,” Abel said as he left the arena and made his way to the conductor. “Perkins, I hope you’re doing your part. Whatever it is.” Flex said to himself.
Perkins still had a look of worry on her face as she let her fingers dance on her shackles. The sound of cheers and screams were louder than they had been earlier, a
nd even Martel remarked on it from outside of the cell. “I hope Ryan is the reason for their excitement. They love it when a new guy is a real brawler.” “You have no idea,” Hunter said as he rolled his eyes.
He was tired of hanging around doing nothing. He wasn’t as antsy as Danielle, but he was getting there. He wanted to snap those shackles, blast Martel, and get out of wherever they were. He was to the point that he felt like a fight with the Warden’s Circle was better than just waiting for time to pass by. “So, what do you think?” Danielle asked Perkins. “This Manis really might be stronger than Flex?” “Maybe,” Perkins replied.
“Manis is strong, of that I’m sure. His strength has become something of a legend in this world. We tried to recruit him for Bravado several times over,” Perkins continued. “But he was addicted to chrome and became undependable for us to even consider anymore.”
Hunter hung on to every word that Perkins said. After she told them that Flex might not be able to out- strength this man, Hunter could do nothing but stare blankly at her and shake his head. It just didn’t seem possible. He believed in Flex but also wanted to see the fight happen, just in case his friend had met his match.
“Chrome?” Danielle said out loud. “Some sort of drugs?” “The worst kind. chrome destroys those that use it. Entire parts of some sections have fallen to chrome. Not like one of those drugs on your world that you told me about. Where you smoke it, feel great, get hungry, then go to sleep,” Perkins replied. Hunter rolled his head to look at Danielle. “Really?” he asked.
“She was learning about the culture,” Danielle replied. “You think I was going to leave that out?” Perkins looked through one of the holes in their cell and could see light outside. The sands still whipped around, but darkness wasn’t there anymore. “Finally,” Perkins said. “The patrols should be mostly gone now. It’s time.”
Instantly Danielle smiled and turned to her shadow form, and was freed from her shackles. She nodded to Hunter and then disappeared through the wall. Hunter, with a little more effort than Flex had to use, broke free from his restraints. As they clattered against the wall, Martel turned and looked in the cell. “How did you…” His words were cut off as a force field wrapped around him and lifted him off the ground.
The man began to squirm and scream like a child that had just lost its toy. Hunter wrapped his hands around Perkins’ shackles and quickly set her free. She rubbed her wrist and smiled at him. “Thanks,” she replied. “Spellborns look out for each other,” he replied with a smirk. “Ready,” Danielle shouted from outside the cell. She was in her normal form now, standing just below where Martel was being held by the force field.
With a flick of Hunter's hand, the force field faded away, and as Martel made his descent to the ground, Danielle balled a fist wrapped in dark energy and punched the man directly in the jaw. As he crashed into the ground he was still breathing, but not moving. “This certainly isn’t his day,” Danielle said as she stood over him.
“Yeah, he’ll be just fine,” Hunter replied as his eyes turned blue. “Now, step aside.” Danielle looked at him with a brow raised. “Please. Can you step aside, please?” Hunter said as he rolled his eyes in an over the top fashion. Danielle stepped aside as she was asked and watch the blue energy collide with the cell door as it was propelled with so much force that it shattered when it hit the wall.
Hunter, followed by Perkins, stepped outside of the cell and looked around. “We just gonna leave him here?” Danielle asked as she pointed her thumb to Martel. “May as well,” Hunter replied. “Unless one of you want to carry him.” Neither of them responded. “Good,” Hunter said after their moment of silence. “We find Flex, and then we get out. I’m done pretending to be a powerless damsel in distress.” Hunter’s words were cut off.
“My blasters,” Perkins said, in a voice that was almost a shriek. “Well do you really need them?” Hunter asked. “We all can’t punch a hole through a car with our eyes,” Perkins replied. “You make a valid point,” Hunter said. “Okay,” Danielle added in as she darted up the hall to look around to make sure nobody was coming. “Get your blasters, then we save Flex.”
Hunter stuck a hand out. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Keep in mind he may not even need saving.” Danielle nodded, and locked eyes with Hunter. They both were hoping that Flex would be okay. He always was, but with the way Perkins spoke of this Manis fellow, it made them wonder. “Any idea where they would put your blasters?” Hunter asked.
Perkins, now standing over Martel, shook her head. “Not a clue, but I’m going to nerfing find out.” With those last words, she grabbed the unconscious Martel by the collar and slapped him so hard on the face that it left her hand sore. “Not his day at all,” Danielle said again to herself.
CHAPTER 12:
CHAMPION OF THE CAGE
F or the first time that Abel could recall, the crowd was silent. The only sounds that could be heard in the arena now were the sounds of the occasional chair moving, and the faint vibration of the ground shaking. Abel swallowed to try and apply moisture to his dry throat, but it didn’t work.
Had he not been there to witness it, he wouldn’t have believed it possible, but he was there. He did witness it, and he realized that it was all too possible. The sensation of fear and excitement battled inside of Abel now. He was fearful at what he had just seen, and even more fearful when he decided that he would no doubt have to dispose of Perkins and the other two. There was no way he was going to part with this Ryan guy after what he just saw. That fear also included that Ryan would likely try to stop him.
Abel took in a deep breath. That wouldn’t be good at all. Then the excitement came. What if this man, this random, talented, attractive man, was his ticket? What if Ryan was the one to propel Abel to the top of the world of arena fighting? His hands shook with the thought of the possibility.
Abel looked at his hand. No, there was an entirely different reason his hand was shaking. Covertly, Abel pulled a small vial from his pocket and untwisted the dropper cap after he filled it with a silver liquid. Abel turned in on himself, as he faced the most unoccupied portion of the area and allowed two drops of the liquid to fall under his tongue, and then dropped two extra droplets in his eye for good measure.
A few breaths later, he felt like a new man again. The shaking in his hands had stopped, and his focus was back. His ideas flowed smoothly through his head, and he was ready to take on the underworld again. Chrome truly was a marvelous gift, and Able loved every inexpensive drop.
Flex stood in the middle of the arena, breathing slightly faster than normal as he looked at the two men groaning on the ground. One of them was lean and muscular with dark skin, while the other was massive and built like a football player. Neither were dead, but both were too hurt to move without groaning and feeling pain.
The fight hadn’t lasted long, and when the crowd found out his request to fight both contenders at once they assumed the night would end fast. They were wrong, and eventually, their disappointment transformed into disbelief, as the newcomer began to fight. Not only was he fighting the two men at once but he was winning, and shrugging off their attacks with ease. A feat that was unexpected considering both men had decent spell abilities.
“You both fought a good fight. Today just wasn’t your day.” Flex said as he extended a hand to the man with dark skin and tried to help him up. At first, Flex thought better of it. The man had displayed a spell during their fight that seemed to hinder his opponent’s vision and induced headaches. This spell was a bother to Flex since it affected his vision and brain and not his physical body. Still, even once slowed the man was unable to hurt the invulnerable body Flex had.
In time one bad move allowed Flex to place his hands on the man, and then his time was over. The man stumbled to his feet as he slapped Flex’s hand away. Despite prompts from the crowd Flex refused to kill the man. As he slowly limped away, Abel flashed him a passive smile.
When Flex turned to the other man on the ground he rea
lized that he had already started getting up. He was a massive man and seemed to have a spell that gave him limitless endurance. During the fight, no matter what he did, he just kept coming. He never showed signs of fatigue. There was no sweating or heavy breathing. Endurance alone wasn’t enough to topple an opponent like Flex, and in time the large man’s back alley brawler style of fighting didn’t last long against the trained fighting skills that Flex displayed.
He actually didn’t even need to use much of his strength on the larger of the two men., but strong blows to the right location of the body got the job done. “Good fight,” Flex said as he extended his hand to the man. He couldn’t hear it but Abel groaned from the side of the arena. This time the man returned the gesture and shook Flex’s hand.
He grunted out the words as he spoke. “Thanks for sparing me. I live to fight another day.” “You may want to work on your style some first,” Flex said as the large man lumbered away with a slight limp in his step. Flex didn’t realize that as he put on a show and then stunned the crowd by allowing his opponents to live, that a pair of eyes were watching him from the crowd that didn’t belong to the normal spectators.
Eyes that, unbeknownst to Flex, had slowly gotten closer and closer to the arena. “Well, that was…,” the conductor's voice boomed around the arena. “Well, it was a little of a letdown huh, folks?” As Flex stood in the center of the Arena, shirtless and no signs of injury, the crowd began to scream and boo. The conductor motioned his hands for them to calm down as he continued to speak. Once the crowd was under control, the conductor licked his lips some and smiled as he began his intro. He usually put a lot of effort into practicing these the day before, so he always wanted full attention before he got into it. “We knew it would all come down to this.”
As the conductor spoke, Flex glanced at Abel who, while still smiling, didn’t look as confident as he did moments ago. His smile wasn’t as large, and he was pacing now instead of standing casually. In the crowd behind Abel, Flex thought he saw a flicker of spiked blond hair moving, but as he adjusted his eyes, he couldn’t find it again.
