Two fighters, both bloody and bruised, were in the midst of an all out brawl between each other. It was a cage match, with a roaring crowd demanding more blood be shed.
"Knock his head off!" Someone in the crowd yelled out. A clean hit was delivered to one of the fighters, and the crowd went wild with cheers and praise over the brutal violence.
From a bay window that overlooked the arena perfectly, a red-haired man watched boredly from a ratty, old throne chair. He sat in a rather spacious room, with a few couches and tables placed here and there, a fridge, and a number of posters on the wall (featuring a variety of different famous fighters, coming from all sorts of different martial arts). The room looked very unloved, as all of the furniture appeared as if it was taken from the local dumpster, everything being covered in mold and dust. The red-head was not the only one present in the room, as two goons ( a rather huge, stocky man, and a beautiful, slender woman) sat on a nearby couch, facing away from the action. Directly behind the throne, a thug was kneeling down out of respect, and fear, for his commanding officer.
"Taro and Shaz, both of them..." The red-haired man trailed off, as his eyes stayed glued to the action (of the cagematch) in front of him.
"That's right, sir! Defeated! But that's not all!" The thug began to shake in anger, "Shaz, after losing the fight, left Ragnarok, and now he's become buddy-buddy with Yamamura!" The man slammed his fist down into the floor, "it's unacceptable! A disgrace to the gang!" He yelled.
"And you killed him, I assume?"
"Why don't you and your punk friends leave Yamamura alone?" Shaz calmly spoke, as he stared coldly at the attacker.
"Hey, hey! Let go, man, that hurts!" The bully yelled, as he tried to pull Shaz's hand off of his arm, but to no avail. He cried out in pain, as he dropped down to his knees.
"Uh, well," the thug sat up, as he scratched the back of his head, "you see, boss, Shaz was a lot stronger than me, and-"
The red-haired man stood up abruptly, as the throne chair fell backwards onto the floor. He walked over to the thug, and grabbed tightly onto his shirt collar, forcefully pulling him in close. "I'm on the verge of becoming the next Fist, and I'm not going to let my chances slip away because you idiots can't deal with such a minor problem!" He screamed, as he then knocked the thug out with a mean right hook. The man dusted off his hands, as he stood back up right.
"Laa, la, laa," The woman on the couch sang, as she cleared her throat. "Please, Zangief, allow Sketch and I to deal both Shaz and the boy. La, la, laaaa; we have not failed you yet, and we shall not start now!" She proclaimed.
"No!" Someone yelled out, as the door into the space suddenly flew open. It was a bandaged up Taro who appeared in the doorway, as he entered into the room.
"How dare you show your face back here?" Zangief growled, as he eyed Taro in disgust.
"Boss, I know it looks bad, but trust me! If I can just get a second chance, I know that I can beat-"
"Siegfried, why don't you remind Taro of my golden rule?" Zangief smirked, as he picked back up his throne, and sat down to continue watching the action down below.
Siegfried smiled wickedly, as she got up from her seat, "Zangief..." the woman began to approach Taro, "does not give second chances."
"No, Sieg, come on! Please!" Taro begged for his life, as he nervously began to back away from the woman.
Taro's screams were drowned out for Zangief, as he began to think deeply on this newfound foe. '
Anybody can get a fluke on one fight,
but two? Three? Kiro Yamamura, just who are you?' He questioned, as he pictured the boy's face in his mind.