Fighters of the Damned Part Two

           Part One

Matt slowly opened his eyes, groaning from the pounding in his head along with the general soreness throbbing throughout his joints. Looking around to try and gather his wits, he could only curse inwardly as he found himself in possibly on of the worst possible situations.

Strapped to a table beneath a bright light in a darkened room.

He was nude, if the chill of the room and steel of the table were any indication, with an IV steadily dripping some mysterious liquid into his left arm. Flexing his arms and legs individually, he was pleased to learn he hadn’t suffered any breaks or sprains, but cursed his luck at how tight his restraints were.

There was no chance for escape, to be certain.

Fighters of the Damned, Part One

Matt heaved a sigh of relief as the roars of the crowd washed over him, raising his wrapped hands high as the referee called out his victory to the world. This had been what he’d been training for the last six months, and now that it was over he couldn’t be more proud of himself.

He’d taken on the United States Heavy Weight champion in Mixed Martial Arts and won. Not only won, but won through a landslide of a fight, tearing through his opponents defenses and getting under the man’s weak guard to deliver bone cracking blows in a hailstorm of regimented fury. According to the clock on the wall, the fight had lasted less than five minutes.

Perfect.