Disclaimer: I do not own the Winchesters, they belong to their rightful owners. This is merely for entertainment.
Things are not looking good for the Winchester brothers...
A figure coated in black strolled down the sidewalk of Downtown Cheyenne. If there had been anybody around to see him, they would have wondered what he was doing wondering around the streets at this hour of night. As it was, the streets were quiet and empty when Maximillian Cortez turn down the alleyways of Alis Street, at the edge of the small strip of banks and window stores. The alley was like something from a mystery movie. Leaking pipes, steaming manholes, and one solitary light at the end of the narrow stretch that illuminated a single iron door. Cortez always felt like he was going to get mugged, walking through here. The only security he had was the 9 mm hidden in his jacket, with one of his hands always loosely wrapped around it. Cortez was nearing the end of his prime, the hairs on the side of his head just starting to gray, and his stamina was already decreasing. Even if he did get mugged, it was very unlikely he would come out with the upper hand. This wasn't particularly high on Cortez's list of concerns, at the moment.
When he reached the door, Cortez knocked three times, and small hatch opened up. A shaded pair of eyes peered out at Cortez. Cortez stood back and, taking off his felt hat, tilted is head back, exposing his face to the light. The pair of eyes on the other side of the door regarded him for a few seconds, and then the hatch slammed shut again. Opening fully with a resounding creak, the door revealed the heavily muscled bouncer on the other side. He was bald with a dark goatee and bright blue eyes. If Cortez remembered correctly, this one's name was Hector. The bouncer stepped aside and Cortez walked through, shrugging his coat off. The interior of the building was dark, as well as silent. Only a small light at a small desk for Hector and a single bare light bulb cast shadows over the raw stone walls.
Cortez continued walking forward, a buzzing sensation building on his skin. He steadied himself for the sudden transfer of dimensions. The buzzing reached an almost uncomfortable level, prickling his skin with heat and cold, when suddenly the sensation ended. At the same time, the roaring of a huge crowd filled his ears and it got much warmer, the heat of many bodies and breathing. The stone walls melted away to a wider, better lit corridor. At the end of the corridor was the arena. It was a grand staium, with lit beacons around the roof and large spectator seating. Though not quite as large as the Roman Colosseum, it was fairly close. A grand stand box section, usually where the emperor and their entourage would sit, was across from Cortez, though it was currently empty of any privileged spectators and the hostess of the evening. Cortez stepped out into stands surrounding the arena, glancing around at the hundreds of other people that had gathered. There was a small landing within the floor of the arena; comprised of brick and cement, a mural sat in the middle wit the Yin-Yang symbol chiseled into it. Cortez looked through the crowd, searching for familiar faces. He saw a hand waving at him and connected it to his friend and secretary, Alyssa DuFlor.
Making his way through the people already seated, Cortez plopped down on a seat next to DuFlor. She looked tired and nervous, like she really didn't want to be there.
"Have I missed anything?" Cortez shouted over the bustle.
"Not yet... but there was a roar that came from under the arena that seemed to rile everybody." DuFlor said getting right next to his ear. Her French accent seemed more jumbled than ever. "Circe hasn't come out yet. Maybe we should act now before it's too late."
"Have you done as I asked?" Cortez gave the girl a sharp look, ignoring her suggestion.
DuFlor looked a little taken aback. "Of course."
The arena suddenly burst to life as fire lit themselves in the beacons around the edge of the arena. The fires lighting the upper parts of the structure went out, effectively drawing everybody's attention to the center stage. The audience cheered as the the hostess and her followers appeared from a corridor and descended down the staircase to the box stand. They were being lead by a woman in a stunning outfit that could only be described as Greek-Orient fusion: a modest toga wrapped around her body, but it was fashioned with Sakura flowers and graceful patterns. She wore high-kneed, plated sandals that were engraved with Asian dragons and clouds. Her hair, a brown color with a strange purple hue, was done up in a bun with chopsticks. With deep red lips to compliment her green eyes and tasteful jewelry, she truly looked like something from a dream. A she stepped onto the patio of the box stand to address the arena, the crowd went wild. When she spoke, her voice filled the entire stadium.
"Ladies and Gentleman! I cannot even begin to express what a show you are in for tonight!" Circe said, throwing her arms up. "Even I am anxious to see the victor after tonight!"
The crowd roared and applauded once again. Cortez and DuFlor remained silent and unemotional, unease sitting in their breasts.
"Yes, what a special treat we have tonight indeed!" The woman smiled in a manner much like a cat grins at it's prey. "And I don't think we could have been given better contestants, don't you think?"
Cortez and DuFlor looked around at the frenzied people. They squirmed in their seats, uneasy within the crowd of blood-thirsty spectators.
"So it is with greatest pleasure, that I present to you our two warriors!" Circe pointed to the west side of the arena. "Tonight, as the most powerful of all the big cats in the world, competing for his freedom and the symbolic personification of Yin, the Siberian Tiger!"
Most people cheered, but some people booed as a man-like figure was shoved out into the arena, stumbling to his knees. He shielded his face from the bright lights with his clawed-hand and breathed heavily as he slowly stood. His clothing, what little their was consisted of a torn, faded denim shirt and tattered jeans. His dark-red fur gleamed as if it had been recently cleaned, his tail fluffed and brushed, and his black stripes were so dark that is was as if the night sky itself had dripped down and stained his back. But most eye-catching was his beastly head.
The cream-colored fur of his chest and stomach shined under the spotlight. The thicker fur around his neck and on the back of his head gave him a mighty mane. His mouth hung open, exposing the inch-and-a-half long fangs. Black ears swiveled on top of his head, white spots on the back flashing. His body was almost completely that of the animal, but he walked around on two legs, and his bright forest green eyes were unmistakably human. He looked around, staring dumbfounded at the number of people in the stands. Then his eyes fell on Circe. His fur stood on end, a deep growl emanating from his chest. With a mighty roar, the audience jumped in their seats, then continued to clap and yell with renewed fervor.
"And his opponent tonight," Circe continued, her smile still gleaming. "A creature that has been world renowned as one of the most terrifying beings in mythology, and representing Yang in oriental culture tonight. A contender that has pleased audiences everywhere with his intelligence and cunning, the magnificent dragon!"
Another door opened on the other side of the arena, and a figure walked slowly out onto the stage. His massive body was covered in green scales that had gold edgings, giving him a distorted, yet majestic look. His mighty head had an unruly mane of dark brown hair that grew down the sides of his face and traveled down his spine, all the way to the tip of his thin, long tail. He, too, looked like he had been cleaned and prepped recently - scales buffed and talons sharpened. Two antler-like horns grew behind his serpent-like head. The dragon bared his two rows of needle sharp teeth as he flexed his talons, hissing at the creature across from him. There was still some human resemblance in his features, like his bipedal gait and the pair of mottled pants that he wore. His eyes were wild though, red rimmed and angry.
The tiger looked across the arena to the dragon, his eyes unbelieving. His mouth opened and closed like he was trying to talk to the creature, but his words were lost in growls and moans. The dragon simply snorted at his opponent.
People were going crazy as the dragon and tiger started to circle each other, the tiger only doing so reluctantly. This was the fight of the season, had been the most anticipated event since people had heard that the brothers Winchester were captured by Circe and forced to contend in her tournament. Gossiped about on the internet, intensely popular on the fan sites, this was no doubt the showdown of the decade - possibly the century.
Cortez and DuFlor finally showed emotion in sheer dumb-struck shock. Even Cortez's mouth fell open in surprise. They looked at each other in horror, both of them wondering how this could have happened without them knowing. But it was too late for them to do anything. Circe pointed at both brothers, her eyes wild.
"Let's begin!"
A/N: So this is just a preview of what will happen later, towards the end of the story. I don't know why I typed this first. Guess I was just excited. I hope you guys enjoy this!
ADD: This chapter had been greatly edited for content and style.
Please! Read, review, and enjoy!