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Sunday, November 18, 2012

Isis: The Ultimate Fight Chapter 1

The roar of the crowd reaches a crescendo as I throw a right cross that connects with my opponent’s cheek. When the blow sends her crashing to the mat of the Octagon, I roll my eyes. The best in the world. She barely lasted five minutes with me.
I hear them chanting my name as she catches her breath. My eyes meet hers; she’s on the brink of tears. I thought the world’s best female MMA fighter had a stronger resolve than this.
“I-I give up.” She pleads pounding on the mat.
Give up? I won’t be denied the satisfaction of my victory. “You know the rules.” I tell her. “The match is over only when one of us is no longer standing.”
As I hear her whimpers, I give her a smile, grab a handful of jet black hair and pull her up. She staggers about as I hold out my thumb to the crowd in the neutral position. “FINISH HER! FINISH HER! The crowd chants.
Thumbs down it is.
I catch her eyes before delivering an uppercut that sends her flying across the Octagon. The arena explodes in cheers as her broken body falls in the center of the ring.
When my opponent is defeated, I look up at the audience and soak in the cheers of the crowd. As I raise my arms in victory the cheers turn to chants of my name.
The door of the black chain link cage opens and announcers and paramedics rush in. While medical technicians tend to my latest victim, the announcer smiles proudly before he speaks to the crowd.
I look out to my loyal fans and hear their cheers one last time before stepping over my former opponent to march out of the cage through the hall into my dressing room. My heralds, Apollos and Sirius my step out of the room and stand guard outside in the hall as I close the door behind me. I quickly strip out of my fighting gear and streak into the shower. As hot water rains down on me, I hear a knock on the door. It must be someone important for Apollos and Sirius to allow them to disturb my shower.
I throw a terrycloth robe on and hurry to the door. I’m greeted by the bright white smile of the manager of my mortal business affairs Cleavon Jackson, and the president of AFC Enterprises Mark Green. They’re probably here to celebrate my latest victory. I’m still looking for the challenge they promised me. Twenty-four opponents in and none of these women have given me the fight I’ve been looking for.
“Man, we cleaned up tonight Nemi!” Cleavon says “Sold out the arena and made close to a million pay-per-downloads online!”
Big deal. I’ve made close to a hundred million dollars from these contests and millions more in revenue from side bets in the underground and offshore gambling circuits. Another million dollars in the bank doesn’t mean anything to me.
“Man, the crowd was hot! Mark says. “They just exploded when you delivered that uppercut to Carano! I’m hoping they’ll be just as hot when you take on Cyborg next month-”
If Carano was the best in the world, then it’s a waste of my time fighting Cyborg. Carano barely lasted five minutes; I doubt Cyborg goes three. No, I need more challenging competition. “Is that the best the mortal world has to offer?” I snarl.
“Nemesis, these are the best fighters in the world-” Mark says.
“And I beat them with ease.” I snap. “Mark, you promised me competition when I entered this sport. I’ve yet to see it.”
“Well, it’s not like we can go out and find some goddesses for you to fight.” Mark says. “You have to take what we can get.”
“And Cyborg provides a big payday for all of us until we get to that opponent.” Cleavon interjects. “We can get $2 million for this fight.”
Two million isn’t enough for me to fight Cyborg. In the past I’d participate in such a contest to just to maintain their livelihoods, but no more. I need more challenging competition. “You’re wasting your time pitching her to me Cleavon-”
Mark looks at Cleavon then at me. “Are you holding out for more money?” Mark snarls.
Before I can answer the question, a flash of light explodes in our eyes. We’re greeted by Hermes, the messenger of the gods. I roll my eyes. What does Zeus want now?
“What do you want Hermes?”
“Zeus wants you back meting out retribution.”
Not this again. “I am meting out retribution. Just one opponent at a time-”
“He means in the world. Too many mortals are getting away with evil-”
“These female MMA fighters are filled with a lot of hubris. I humble them by beating them.”
“Technicalities.” Hermes snarls. “Must you continue to go on this mad quest Nemi? It’s getting kind of old-”
“I won’t stop fighting these mortals until I find the opponent who gives me the fight I’m looking for.”
Hermes huffs a sigh. “If it’s competition you seek, then I know just the woman who will give you a challenge. Isis of New Heliopolis, the goddess of Retribution.”
“That’s just a myth. The Sword of Nubia doesn’t exist-”
“A common misconception. The goddess lives. And she’s quite the fighter. Take a look at the vengeance she meted out on these mortals.”
Hermes gestures and the television screen in my dressing room lights up. A montage shows her murdering foe after foe with her bare hands. The mortals dressed in hoods and white sheets fall before her bloody assault with ease. Now this is the opponent I’ve been waiting centuries for.
“Where is this goddess?”
“She lives on the Island of Solitude in the South Pacific. But lately she’s been hanging around New York City. Specifically the Harlem area.”
I gesture my hands. A flash of light explodes around my body and changes my bathrobe into my one-shouldered short white toga dress. I can’t wait to meet my next victim.
Mark grabs my arm. “Hey, where are you going?” Mark asks.
“To issue a challenge to my next opponent.” I say disappearing into a flash of light.

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