The Pit was busier than ever. Raiders were drinking copious amounts of nectar, and the atmosphere was lively but relatively peaceful. The roast was ready, and they would start serving soon.
The clients had filtered in tonight rather than their bar because it was the main fight night. Each group had its area, the clients having a separate raised section, and Shep arrived to join them. Kyto could hear his booming, jovial voice over the din. It was not long before proceedings began, and the first fight was announced. It was between two raiders from different factions to theirs. It was a knock-out bout, and the rules were that simple: they fought until one was knocked unconscious, or they could submit. Although from what Kyto had learned, submittal was seen as cowardice.
The fight was brutal, with both fighters going at each other, kicking and punching. Anything was permitted apart from using weapons. The fight lasted for a few minutes when one of the raiders hit the other square in his nether region. The audible groan and gasp from the cheering crowd made it sound like every male in the room had felt the blow. Even Kyto had winced and cringed from what he had witnessed. The raider crumbled to the floor, holding his most precious between cupped hands. The other raider took immediate advantage and jumped on his back, locking his arm around his throat and began choking him. The man who had been semi-paralyzed tried to struggle and free himself from the grip but to no avail, and after a short while, his eyes began to close as he became unconscious.
The room was filled with cheers by those who had bet on the fight, and one of many started moving towards a large table where the bets were being held. The evening continued in the same manner, and the food began to be served. Each fight had different rules that were pre-agreed. Some were submission, others knock-out, and finally, blood fights. TJ was due to fight last against Kilo. Raiders were already placing bets on who would win this time. TJ was not at the bar and would not show up until just before he was due to fight. On the other hand, Kilo sat proudly in his group area, watching the fights.
The clients had gone to get food first, but as soon as they were all fed, the raiders and a few guards began to get their share of the roast. As soon as they started eating, Kyto began to feel nervous and sat watching for signs. Tabs sat next to him, and he could feel her tension also.
“It's probably as good a time as any. Sam isn’t here, so there’s a good chance he's down at the auction house. I have known him a while now, so it may help if he's down there,” Crystal said.
“Sure, let’s go then,” Kyto said.
They walked up, collected three plates of food, and left the bar, heading down to the auction house. Tabs stayed behind with Lars as it only needed the two of them.
As they made their way down, Kyto suddenly stopped. “Wait a second,” Kyto said to Crystal, pausing and digging into his pocket. He removed the jar containing the last few drops of venom from the Gatorthon. “These are the most important meals to ensure they are contaminated.” He said to Crystal. He returned the empty jar to his pocket, and they continued. “I just hope this works.”
As they approached the auction house, Crystal recognized Sam as one of the guards. “Hey Sam,” She called as they neared.
The three guards had been sitting and throwing dice and were not expecting anyone to come down. The guard looked slightly startled and said, “Hey, Crystal, what brings you down here?”
“I thought you boys may want some food before they eat it all.” She said, smiling at them. Her beauty and charm were two of her weapons, and the men looked at her with roaming eyes.
“You didn’t need to, Crystal. We were going to head up in a bit. We are due to change in a couple of hours.”
“It’s nice and fresh, so you may as well eat now. You can always get another portion later if anything is left by then.” She said, smiling.
She handed two plates over, and Kyto passed Sam the third.
“Thanks. Aren’t you missing the fights?”
“The only one I am interested in is TJ’s last thing. The others I don’t expect to see much worth watching. Once you have seen one fight, you have seen them all, and I also wanted to spend some time alone.” She smiled at Sam and nodded in Kyto’s direction.
“Lucky man. Thanks, Crystal.” Sam said, laughing.
Crystal and Kyto turned and returned to the bar area, “That worked ok. Do you know how long it takes to work?”
“Not sure, and I just hope it does. When I got hit, I took a large dose, and it only took a couple of minutes, but I was out for three days. I am hoping this starts working in an hour, maybe sooner.”
Tabs sat watching the fights; this one was submission, and currently, a female raider had her legs wrapped around a male raider's body and had her fingers pushing into his eye sockets. The raider was screaming in pain, and as she watched, he threw his arms up in submission. The female raider let go and dropped from his back. Anything went in the fights; it was macabre, and she wasn’t enjoying it, but she was still transfixed. Lars fist-pumped the air. He had been doing well so far in predicting the fights and looked to be only one of a handful getting up to claim any winnings this time.
Tabs sat at their table alone, and as she watched Lars collecting his winnings, a voice called out to her. “Don’t I know you?”
Tab recognised it immediately and tensed instantly, every nerve in her body going on edge. She turned confidently and calmly and said, “I don’t think so.” Looking away again.
“Are you sure I do not know you? You look very familiar; I remember most faces, and I am sure we have met before.” He was slurring his words and had been hitting the nectar hard.
“I have no idea who you are, " she replied, resisting the urge to look at him again. She leaned forward and picked her glass up from the table, taking a drink. She could feel her hand shaking, and she hoped picking the glass up would hide the fear she was covering.
“Well, maybe I should introduce myself,” he reached and grabbed her arm, dragging her from her seat. Tab’s glass and contents flew across the table, and the glass fell from her grip, smashing on the floor. He spun her, placing his arms around her, and tried to kiss her.
Every inch of her body was in panic mode, and she tried to force him away. He had a tight grip on her, though, and she could not unpin her arms from where he had clamped them to her sides by giving her a bear hug. He leaned forward to kiss her, and she moved her head back and turned it sideways, but there was little more she could do. John was powerful, much stronger than she was, and she was too close to him to be able to do anything to resist. His lips planted on her cheek, and he gave her a sloppy, drunken kiss.
“Get off me.” She shouted. A few raiders who had heard the glass smash had turned and just laughed at what was happening.
John’s grip loosened suddenly, and his left arm pulled back protectively towards his side. “What the hell.” He released Tabs, shoving her backwards, and whirled around to see who had hit him. Lars's imposing figure stood in front of him, motionless with his arms down by his sides.
“You bastard, I will bloody kill you.”
John swung at Lars, and he just stepped back out of the way of the wildly drunken swing. John may have been a good brawler, but there was no cure for drunkenness. He lunged forward, and Lars grabbed his wrist, stepping sideways and pulling him, using John’s momentum to unbalance him as Lars placed his leg across his path. John was completely taken aback and staggered over his leg, stumbling before losing his footing entirely and falling face-first to the floor.
The next fight was due to start in the cage when the proceedings outside the cage took over, and everyone began to watch the spectacle unfold. Shep came walking over, “Now, now, boys. No need to fight.” He said.
“Fight! I am going to kill the bastard.” John shouted as he stood up.
“You cannot fight outside the cage; if you wish to fight, you do so inside,” Shep said, standing before John. “And I would advise you to do it when you are sober.” He said, looking at John.
John ignored his advice and stepped forward, pushing Shep to one side. “Move.” He said and again went to swing at Lars.
Lars blocked his wild swing by pawing his hand away and just stood looking at him. Mike and Salvatore stood up and walked over from their client's table. Mike had taken a knife from a sheath, and Salvatore was carrying a small blackjack. “Shit, Lars, two more.” Tabs said. Lars took a few steps backwards and looked at the men standing by John’s side. Shep had recovered from being pushed and sensibly stepped to one side out of the way.
“We will take the bastard in the cage now,” John screamed, with Mitch and Salvatore nodding in agreement.
Lars raised one eyebrow, and Tabs watched him smile.
Shep's confidence returned, and he stepped up. “It looks like we have a new fight for the cards, ladies and gentlemen. We have a score to settle. Bets can be placed on the winner at the tables.”
“Gentlemen, can I ask that you make your way to the caged area to continue,” Shep said.
Lars just turned, looking at Tabs, and gave her a grin. He took a pouch from his belt, handed it to her, and then indicated it to the betting table. “What? Oh,” she realised what he wanted. “How much?” she asked.
Lars indicated everything with his hand and then pointed at himself. “I would not have placed it on them.” She replied.
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Tabs had never placed a bet in her life and had no idea where to start, so she just walked over to the table and put the pouch in front of one of the cashiers. The cashier looked at her.
“Who for?”
“Blood Fangs.” She said.
“And how much.” He asked.
“Whatever is in the bag.” She replied.
The man quickly emptied the pouch's contents and counted them with the precision and expertise of someone who had spent their life working with stacks. “107, and you are sure you want to bet it all on the one man, " he asked.
“What do you mean on the one man?”
The man indicated at the cage. All three drivers stood in the cage on one side, with Lars standing on the other. She gulped slightly and said, “Yes.”
“Ok, odds are 3 to 1.” He scribbled on a small note and handed her the slip. “Next.” He called
Tabs turned and walked back to the table. She walked up to the side of the cage and called over to Lars. “You do not need to do this.” She shouted over the din in the room.
Lars just shrugged and winked back at her.
“What is going on?” a commanding voice announced. Tabs turned and saw Crystal had just re-entered the Pit with Kyto. The silence almost fell across the room at the tone and depth of Crystal's commanding presence. Her beauty was one thing, but her ability to command was something else entirely, and the raiders watched, awaiting the reply.
As she approached the cages, Shep came over to her. “Ah, Crystal. Lars has upset one of the clients, and they wish to take revenge against him, " he said.
“And who the fuck gave them the right to decide that they could attack one of my crew.” She said.
“In all fairness, Lars hit the client first,” Shep answered.
“Only after he grabbed me and tried to force himself on me.” Tabs interjected.
“And that was your issue to resolve,” Shep said bluntly, looking at her. “As soon as Lars hit a client, he knew what may happen.”
“Fucking hell, I was only gone a few minutes, and all hell breaks loose in my absence,” Crystal said.
“Are you OK?” Kyto asked, coming to Tab's side.
“Yeah. I am fine. Lars stopped him from doing anything.” She answered.
The referee, overseeing the matches, walked into the cage after speaking to Shep briefly. He approached John and the others, talked to them, and then approached Lars. Crystal saw Lars shrug in acknowledgement. He turned to look at Crystal and indicated a finger across his throat.
“Shit. It is a death match. Those fucking idiots are adamant they want Lars dead.” She said.
“No. We have to stop it.” Tabs said.
“And how do we do that?” Crystal said.
“We must be able to do something?” Kyto asked.
“Nope, not a thing,” Crystal replied as the cage door was slammed shut.
The referee stood in the ring and announced the fight conditions and that the client team from Montgomery Metals had requested a death match. The crowd erupted in loud cheers. Cage fighting was not a sport for the faint-hearted. Once a bout started, it continued until it ended. It was not like the civilised fights of old. The referee stood in the middle of the ring, raising his arm and dropping it, immediately stepping back to the side and quickly leaving the cage through a small door. That was it. The fight to the death had begun.
Lars was tall, very tall, in fact, and stood above most men. Mitch and Salvatore were not small men; both were quite muscular and looked strong. John was a big man. He was only a couple of inches shorter than Lars and carried much more weight than Lars's slim build. Lars just stood still as Salvatore sprang at him. He swung the blackjack in his hand and went to strike Lars. Lars reacted instantly, his left hand moving up and out at an unimaginable speed and his forearm colliding just above Salvatore’s right wrist as he went to strike him.
Salvatore yelped as the blackjack flew from his grip. He immediately grabbed his right wrist with his left hand, stepping backwards. Lars did not try to attack him; he stood precisely where he had been. It was now Mike's turn. He lunged at Lars with the blade he held. The blade glinted under the lights in the pit, and there were audible gasps as he aimed for Lars's gut. Lars stepped back and pushed his arms down at the incoming attack. His crossed hands intercepted the strike, hitting just above Mikes's wrist. Mike did not drop the knife, but he did step back in surprise as he thought he was going to hit him. John roared and ran straight at him. Lars sidestepped this time, and as John lunged to grab him, he pushed him sideways, allowing his momentum to send him sprawling on the floor again.
Lars again just stood looking at the three men. Salvatore had bent and scooped up his blackjack, and they started to circle him. John was screaming and cursing, and any semblance of logic had left him in his drunken state, and he ran directly at Lars again. This time, Lars glanced to his left, seeing Mike, and as John approached, he moved again, tripping and pushing him, so he now sailed straight towards Mike. Mike had been driving to strike at Lars's side, and John ploughed into him, sending them toppling in a comedic scene of arms and legs. Salvatore swung at Lars from the other side as he stepped away from John’s charge and struck him on his right arm.
Lars winced slightly from the impact of the blackjack, but it did not affect his poise. He immediately turned, facing Salvatore, and threw a perfectly straight jab with his left. His balled fist caught Salvatore in the right shoulder, and Salvatore’s movement stopped as if he had just hit a brick wall. Lars immediately followed up with a sweeping kick that caught Salvatore off guard. Expecting another high strike, he caught him just above his left knee. His knee spasmed from the strike, moving sideways as he wobbled. Salvatore screamed in pain, his hand going to grab his knee, staggering backwards.
John and Mike had untangled themselves, and they both charged this time. Lars turned and met their charge. He defended against their wild swings and slashes, his arms seeming to move at lightning speed, only just seeming to touch their strikes enough to deflect them. Mike again swept towards Lars's face with the blade, and Lars pulled his head back before dropping into a crouch and then stepping in towards Mike with a flat hand and striking him in his solar plexus. The wind left Mikes's lungs in an instant, and he crumpled backwards, gasping for breath, holding his weapon free hand to his chest. Pain registered across his face.
Salvatore went to hit Lars again, limping forward on his injured knee. Lars saw it coming, and after striking Mike and deflecting John's wild strike, he kicked backwards, taking Salvatore by surprise and catching him in his midriff. The air left his lungs now as he also crumpled to the floor, holding his stomach. John noticed the hits that Mike and Salvatore took, but he did not care; he had seen red and was going to kill this man. He again lunged at him, hurling his fist with all his might at his side. Luck was on his side as his fist connected this time. Lars took the punch well with a slight body roll, but he had felt the blow and stepped back as John swung again. The next strike missed as John swung for him. He had hit one out of probably forty strikes since the fight started.
Lars was now getting annoyed. He had been playing with them, but now the big one had hit him. It was time to fight. His neutral stance changed instantly, and his body turned to a side-facing profile but with his upper body still towards John. He now hit back. His hands were a blur as they tore towards John, hitting him in his stomach, chest, stomach, chest, and stomach again in short, sharp movements that could easily have been missed. After the fifth strike to his stomach, John leaned forward, and as he did, Lars grabbed his head. He then brought his knee upwards while forcing John’s face downwards to meet it. John’s nose exploded, and blood sprayed out from the impact site. Lars let go of his head and pushed him backwards away from him. John staggered, wiping across his bloody face with his arm, screaming in rage, and came at Lars again.
Again, a foray of punches landed all over John’s torso as he tried with all his might to hit the man. John was in an uncontrollable rage. The pain that had been created from his nose exploding had helped to sober him slightly, but not enough to realise that this man was in a league above his own when it came to brawling. Lars turned swiftly, his long leg bringing his booted foot around at an incredible speed, and his shin caught John on the side of his face. There was an audible crack as something broke. John's body spun 360 degrees from the impact before falling backwards onto the cage floor again, holding his jaw.
Mike had recovered enough and again went to stab Lars. His lunge was low and aimed towards his thigh. Lars, this time, stepped forward, and in the instant that Mike realised what he was doing, it was too late. Lars swept his knee up towards Mike’s groin, bypassing the knife's blade by the slightest distance. Mike was groaning before his knee hit. He screamed in agony, dropping the blade as he grabbed it between his legs. He took the tiniest step forward, and Lars brought his elbow around, connecting with his temple. Mike dropped to the floor, instantly knocked out cold. His brain scrambled inside its skull from the elbow strike.
Salvatore was trying to stand upright, but as soon as he went to move, his knee was giving way. He was incapacitated for now. John, though, was the bully, the thug and the slave driver who had attacked his friend. The other two were insignificant to Lars, but he wasn’t. They had called for a death match, and he was going to give them one, but it was not going to be his. Lars scooped the knife from the floor, holding it with the blade facing down his wrist. Again, John staggered back to his feet and turned to see Mike flat on the floor and Salvatore stumbling with his knee. John was a brawler and would not be beaten by this man.
“Come on!” he screamed at Lars.
Lars obliged. He moved so fast towards John, dropping to his knees as he feinted to his left and dropped right. He then, in a movement that seemed impossible, walked around John's lower body on his knees in a circle, striking out with the blade held against his wrist. His first strike sliced into the flesh on his right thigh not far above his knee, the second return movement as he moved around him caught the back of his knee, slicing through his trousers and whatever flesh and tendons met its blade, the third strike sliced his left calf cleanly and finally on him returning past Johns left side the fourth strike cutting across his kneecap slicing it in two.
John had not even been able to react to the pain and strikes. They were so fast and precise. John’s legs gave way on him as though they had been cut out from beneath him. In part terms they had, his display flashed with every hit, and his lower limbs were dark red. He could feel the warmth of blood soaking into his trousers from the four wounds he had just sustained.
Lars knelt in front of John as he had fallen to his knees, their eyes almost level with each other as Lars looked him in his eyes. John could see the emotionless depth of his gaze as Lars swiftly brought his arm across John’s throat. John felt the blade and realised he was dead. His hands flew to his throat much too slowly to try and defend his throat from the blade the man held. He felt the blade connect and cut deep into his throat with speed and severity, meaning that he was fully aware of his predicament. Blood began to pour through his fingers as he grasped at his throat, trying to stem the flow of blood from his slit throat. He stared into Lars's eyes as his life blood drained from him. After what seemed like an age, he slumped forward, his head resting on Lars's chest.
Salvatore had seen John’s demise in all its glory and knew that this man could have killed them in an instant if he had wanted to. He had been playing with them. His speed and skill were on a level they had never witnessed before. They had all been drinking, but he was not as drunk as John had been, and he did not want to die for a stupid slant on John. He had been dragged into it in the moment, but the fight had not been his. He looked at this man in awe, who had just taught the three of them a lesson in manners to which one had been shown his true folly.
Salvatore threw his hands in the air in a sign of surrender, and Lars turned and looked at him from where he knelt. He had not stood up yet and just looked at Salvatore. He gave him a short nod and then pushed John’s lifeless body away, sending it falling backwards onto the cage floor. He sprung to his feet. He stood turning once in the cage, looking at the crowd who had been going wild watching the fight unfold, and then dropped the knife to the cage floor. He then walked towards Salvatore and held his hand out. Salvatore looked at him and his hand and then cautiously took it. Lars shook it once and then let go, lifting his arms into the air. The crowd roared.
Tabs sat open-mouthed. John was dead. The sick, twisted, evil man had at last met his match. The skill she had just witnessed in the cage was unbelievable. She could remember watching fights from her days with the raiders, but never had she seen such a one-sided affair. Lars had never been concerned or even seemed nervous about facing down three men, and Tabs now understood why Lars was Crystal's bodyguard. She knew her sister had a temper, but Lars was an absolute monster. Not evil, not nasty, just an incredibly adept fighter. He had not even taken a weapon into the cage with him. Tabs turned and looked at Kyto. Kyto was staring in shock at the lesson that had just been taught.
“Well, that may make TJ and Kilo’s fight look lame now,” Crystal said with a grin.