Chapter 4

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“Raw Hell” lit up the night with bright red neon lights. The name of the club was fitting as the area it was located smelled exactly how it looked, like a rugged urban trash hole of a neighborhood. The night club was a small building with a bunch of shady folk lingering about. The exterior was bare except for the neon sign and the walls were stained. How UMMArtists appeared to each of there little competitions at these trashy places was beyond me. I certainly never envied them. Feelings of grit and testerone came spewing from the establishment that had raucous classic rock playing in the background.

“Hey um...I know that we kinda have to go in there but I think I’ll personally just slow you guys down, so I'll stay out here if that's cool with you.” Matthew remarked as he slowly back away but ended up backing into Jett.

“Don’t be a wuss kid. I’m sure the people here won’t lay a finger on a little girl.” said Jett with a smirk.

“The little girl would rather not risk losing life or limb.” Matthew responded.

“It doesn’t look like the best place on Earth I admit but if you want to find the King of UMMA, you'll find him here.” added Anthony, “I already recognize more than half the people here anyways. Definetly some heavy hitters from the league here.”

“Well then let's make haste with this.” Chuck said stepping forward.

Everyone began following much to Matthew's dismay, “Do we have to?”

The group approached the nightclub led by Chuck and Jett stayed in the back to keep Matthew from becoming the runaway bride. When they got inside, the stench and music only grew louder and the pungent reek of bad alchol and tobacco mixed in with it all. Chants of “KICK HIS HEAD OFF!” and “HOLY SHIT!” filled their eardrums, which was already booming from the loud music. This place had about one hundred and fifty alcoholics, junkies, thugs and other scum of the Earth all willing to spend their last bit of cash on what was going on in the middle of the club. The center focus was a huge steel cage with a bookie table set up adjacent to it and the bar.

“You know I’d love to have a drink to celebrate the festivities but I’m pretty sure they wash these glasses with spit.” Jett said as he examined a glass by the bar and I'm pretty sure he was right.

“Now Jett, you can enjoy the festivities without the influence of alcohol.” Chuck said as he took the glass out Jett's hand and put it back.

Inside the cage was where the action was taking place. The crowd was  witnessing a four on one handicap match confined to the steel structure. Of the five men who inhabited the cage, the tallest was the lone warrior. His skin was dark and he had short brown hair that grew towards the back of his head. His eyes were brown and his physique put Amar'e and Anthony to shame, rivaling most bodybuilders. His white t-shirt was torn and stained with blood and alcohol and he also had on brown jeans and black boots. He was bruised, bloody and dripping sweat which indicated he had surely had a long night. His legs were bended slightly in a crouch, with his hands close to his body resembling a man holding a football.

“So...I’m guessing thats the guy we’re looking for huh?” Matthew said shaking.

“Yep. Lady and gents, the reigning, defending King of Underground Mix Martial Arts, Luke Lionel.”

“I feel like I've met this guy before.” Amar'e said.

“If you were in anyway involved in the criminal world the past couple years, you've had to have heard of him at least once. People fear this man and with good reason.” Anthony explained.

“What fighting stance is that?” asked Matthew.

“You’ll see in a few trust me.”

Luke stood there, patiently waiting for his opponents to make their first and probably last move.

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