Before Perfection
by The Great Red Dragon
Chapter 8
I found an air-vent atop the building. I punched a sizeable into the thin, metal sheet, and shortly I found my way to the snack-booth.
It was my lucky day: nobody was there. I dropped from my passageway and immediately dove into the tub of popcorn. For a several seconds, I just chowed-down on the food at hand until I had eaten my fill.
Then I sought out a small, leather bag from a nearby cabinet as I was wiping my face, and stuffed it full of everything I could find: candy bars, sodas, and even a jar of mayonnaise.
Then, from down the theater-like hallway, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. I didn't feel like getting caught, so I crawled on top of a nearby closet and slid out of sight. Two teens walked by: one girl, one guy. They were both sporting shirts with the EWF logo.
"So what's go'in on in there?", asked the girl, who was looking somewhat bored.
"Oh man, it's so tight! The Shark's totally kick'in ass in there!", the guy answered enthusiastically, and they disappeared towards the sounds of an arena.
He was excited like a child, and his words caught my attention. I hadn't completely mastered the human language yet, but I had heard the expression 'kicking ass' before, and it usually referred to some form of combat [I don't know if I've said so before, but I enjoy a good punch-up], so naturally I was interested.
Without much hesitation, I crawled back into the air shafts and followed the distant sounds to their source: a wide, arena-like gym, almost as large as the gym I used to work out in.
Several dozens of rows of seats sat turned a large, circular boxing-ring [although less than a third of the seats were filled: this explained the mass of people leaving the building].
The ring was surrounded by a ten-foot circular steel mesh that slanted slight towards the sides: a 'cage'. Inside of there were two human beings, who, as far as I could tell, were literally trying to kill eachother.
I was drawn in by first sight. Finally, something that could hold my interest! Through the venting, I squinted slightly for a better look.
Two teens, probably near reaching man-hood, were doing everything in their power to bring the other to the mat. The bigger and buffer one wore a one-piece bodysuit, colored black with horizontal stripes along the chest and waist. His boots were white, and the hair on his head was a dirty blonde.
The smaller guy [the one on his knees] looked quicker and faster, and I knew instinctively that he wasn't Hawaiian. His skin was tanned, but he was naturally white. He was wearing red tights with a design of silver barbed-wire across them, and a pair of shiny black boots. He was topless, and thereby showcased a tattoo of a grinning skull on his left shoulder. Written behind it, sort of blended, read the words '2 Xtreme'.
But what really brought my favor to him was the face-paint he wore: large, curving horns were splashed on his forehead, circling down to a skeleton- like design over his eyes and mouth: exactly my type of thing; kind of a lucha-libre style.
The big guy reached down and landed a punch on the other's head. He [the smaller guy] went down for a moment, but was up the next, practically begging for more. The big guy landed more slaps before he began kicking. His boot connected right into 'the Mask's' gut, and again the smaller guy went down.
"C'mon!", I thought desperately, completely 'getting into it'.
"Do something!"
I was favoring the smaller guy because of his appearance, which was a lot more colorful and original than the other guy's; I think that everybody figures that way.
I needn't have spoken before, because as he was being pulled up by his hair, the Mask somehow jumped up and super-kicked his opponent in the face. The big guy went down in a flash, and the Mask took the upper hand. As he was rising, the Mask backed up several paces and ran towards the runway, delivering another high-flying kick at the lift-off line. His opponent went down again, but was up again in seconds.
The Mask performed a handless backflip, his heels cracking the other guy's chin.
"Wow!..."
This acrobatic, class-style by the Mask continued for the rest of the match. At one point, he scaled the cage halfway and sprang off, catching the big hard in the chest with a dropkick.
But the end was met when the big guy missed a clothesline, and the Mask caught him by the arm, and lifted him onto his back, before dropping him hard on his head [A/N: also known as the 'Death Valley Driver']. It was almost outrageous to see such a display of strength from him, as his opponent was so much larger than him.
BOOM!
The ring shook violently. I thought it was gonna fall apart, but it held faithfully. The Mask picked himself up, and I saw that he was a bit taken away from the physicality that he had just dished out. He looked down at his opponent, and after a few seconds of silence, he climbed the cage and dropped to the outside.
The crowd exploded...well, actually, only the minority cheered. I would've cheered, but I knew I couldn't draw attention to myself.
A voice from an overhead microphone blared shrilly;
"The winner, and still EWF International Champion...Riley, 'The Shark', Kivvv-ana!"
Music blared over the gym, a shrieking-like sound that I had never heard before [heavy-metal acoustic], and my hands flew to my ears.
Over the noise, the announcer continued;
"And that concludes our night of 'Carnage'. We thank our friends of the island of Kauai, and the beautiful city of Mana! We hope to see you all again soon, and please exit through the side door."
I wasn't listening; I was watching 'The Shark', now outside of the ring. He seemed to have hurt his shoulder during that last maneuver, as he was holding it very delicately. He started to walk slowly from the room, through a big black curtain. As his opponent unsteadily arose as well in the ring, I followed the highly-acrobatic 'Riley Kivana' backstage, eager to find out more about him.
