Speak.
004.
"Ladies and gentlemeeennnn! I'd like to welcome you all back to yet another thrilling night at the Fights!" A tall, skinny man boomed from the center of the dust-filled pit that sat in the middle of the large, dusty room.
The air was thick and musty; filled with heavy, dry dust kicked up from the pit. It stuck to everything, the walls, ceiling, the previously shiny, black shoes of the attendees and of course; the tall, black hat that was perched atop the announcer's head. He stood in the middle of a large, round pit fenced with thick, metal railings which were grimy after years of being tarnished by the dust that attached itself to everything and everyone who entered that dreadful room. One skinny hand grasped a surprisingly pristine, black microphone; the gold and silver rings contrasted with the black plastic and in turn, with the rest of the dank atmosphere. Dark, gleaming eyes peered out from beneath the brim of his hat, taking in the scene that lay out around him, dark pupils taking in each and every patron. With a sickening smile filled with greed and pride spread across his gaunt features as he continued with his presentation,
"The lineup tonight will be sure to grant suspense and surprise, as a new fighter is coming to make his name here in this little piece of...paradise." He laughed creepily and with a sweep of his arm he gestured towards a wooden door that was set inside the wall.
"Please welcome one of tonight's contenders, and a favorite among all of you who know him as..Bane!" He boomed before continuing with a sickening smile, revealing a mouthful of gold and silver crowned teeth, "And our newest fighter whom we know won't be disappointing anyone tonight, we call him Z!" And with an arm sweep and a bow, he disappeared into the darkness that lay just outside the yellow spotlight.
The wooden door he had gestured to opened, a tall African-American man strode out into the light. His dark muscles rippled as he walked into the spotlight, the yellow beam illuminating years worth of scars and much more recent wounds that were most likely infected.
On the other side of the ring, the door had opened but no tall, muscular brute had walked out. Instead, a man in a dark gray uniform was dragging out a small, skinny blonde boy into the ring. He wasn't covered in rippling muscles, but rather in a plethora of robust, brown freckles. They trailed from his nose to his cheekbones, down to his clavicle and continued to pour down over his lanky arms. He looked out of place, scared and lost. By no means was his opponent a fair match and there was no question about who would be winning this battle.
The shrill 'ding' of a bell was heard and the audience erupted in a unified roar as Bane rushed towards the boy, picking him up in one swift movement and slamming him to the ground. A plume of thick dust rose up, covering the two in a cloud of red-brown. As it cleared, the blows that the man was giving to the poor boy were evident, his movements blurred as he hit his fists against the latter's face repeatedly. Laughs, jeers and roars were heard from the crowd above, their taunts egging the man on as he pummeled 'Z' into a pulp.
"And he's...3....2....1..down for the count! Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present to you, your undefeated winner! BANE!" The announcer was suddenly back, holding the fist of the triumphant in the air proudly.
Two men in the same bland, dark gray uniforms came into the ring to grab the now-bloody blonde boy and dragged him out through the wooden door, leaving the sickening scene behind them just as the green rectangles of paper money began to flood down from the people above the ring.
"Kid has no idea what he's gotten into now, does he.."