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The tiny bulb casts it warm glow upon Jason Star’s face. Distorted shadows of the three-year veteran of the Dimensional Enforcement Agency dance menacingly about the room. Seated at the foot at the bed he once shared with his now deceased fiancé, he laces his boots almost mechanically as his mind is completely focused on the mission fate unjustly thrust uponhim. Who would have guessed the insane ramblings of a sociopath would come to pass.
The memory of Angelica’s death is still fresh in his mind as it took place only three days earlier. Tears were sill spilling from his eyes as he cradled her body. He could feel her life drain as steadily as the blood seeping from her stab wound. After her wake, only one thought occupied every moment of his day: to hunt down and kill her murderer.
Upon locating the gangly perpetrator, his blind rage nearly caused him to finish the young man before it was revealed who ordered Angelica’s death. The puppeteer manipulating this marionette’s strings was none other than the legendary warrior, Vincent Brown. It was at that very moment he realized that by defeating Tyler Malloy, the only man to survive against Vincent, in a hand-to-hand confrontation, that the big guy would find an interest in him.
Walking to his closet, Jason retrieves his sword and sheathe. Fastening it to his back, he exits the room and pauses to contemplate precisely what he may encounter.
Vincent’s legendary status as a phenomenal fighter is well known throughout all facets of society. Whether corporate executive or street hustler, most new of the self proclaimed “God of Fighting.” Vincent is credited with ending the lives of several of the world’s elite and most competent fighters in unarmed combat. His body made nigh invulnerable through his intensive training, bullets and blades did little more than illicit a chuckle of contempt.
Though honed beyond that of a razor’s edge, Jason’s sword may prove of little assistance in this fight. True, few things, naturally occurring and man made alike, could withstand a full assault from his blade, but never before had it been tested against the likes of the “God of Fighting.” Banishing all negative thoughts from his head, he straddles his motorcycle and rides off into the rapidly vanishing later afternoon sun.
Half an hour passes and Jason breaks to an abrupt stop. From his vantage point on the over pass, he peers into the wooded area. He could literally feel the energy emanating from his opponent even at this distance. Climbing back onto his motorcycle, he rides a little further and stashes the vehicle on the other side of the guardrail. Arming the alarm system, he begins his trek to the fighter’s abode.
Upon his reaching the ruggedly constructed dwelling, he is nearly overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the man standing at the doorstep. His dark brown chest is massive. Equally impressive are the thick muscles wrapped around his abdomen. A pair of dark blue fighting pants serves as his only clothing. The moonlight filtering through the trees cast an eerie glow over the fighter’s face.
“I am well aware of your reason for being here. Shall we begin now Mr. Star?” The smug nature of the man’s challenge pushes Jason over the edge as he initiates the battle of his life.
Feigning a left jab, he lashes out with a front kick that Vincent swats away easily.
“Do not toy with me. I know your anger has pushed you to your limits of speed and power. Use them!” Jason responds with a vicious right cross that staggers the fighter. Five rapid-fire shots to the gut and an uppercut cause Vincent to stumble backwards. Colliding with the door, it shatters on impact and Jason dashes forward. In one fluent motion, Jason unsheathes his blade and stabs downwards. Vincent raises his arm and smiles. The edge strikes the solid muscle of his forearm. Jason stares in disbelief, as the blow is completely absorbed
“You will fight me with the purity of your fists and nothing else,” Vincent remarks, standing to his feet unscathed. “Now show me more of what you had before resorting to your weapon.”
Jason eyes his blade. As if its inability to render any damage to the man were not disappointing enough, a small fragment had chipped off. Sheathing the blade, he concentrates on his fighting style.
He throws an experimental punch that is effortlessly swatted away. Two others are disrespected in the same manner.
“I tire of your insolence. I thought having your woman killed would fuel the fire, but I see I must personally ignite this flame.” A punch too quick to see smashes into Jason’s face. He reels back as blood drizzles from his nose. Before he can even conceive a plan of defense, another blow doubles him over. A knee to the face knocks him back onto his posterior. A shockwave of pain travels through his spinal cord.
Attempting to blink away the veil of haze threatening to claim his vision, he is hoisted from the ground roughly by the neck. As easily as one would throw a baby doll across their bedroom, Vincent flings Jason through the opening of his home and onto the steps.
“Fight me damn it!” Anger visible in his face, he punches Jason in the stomach. Jason coughs violently as he can almost taste the stomach acid rising into his throat. Battered and bruised he manages to get back to his feet.
He then proceeds to shock Vincent, by actually countering a punch. The lunging strike, throws Vincent off balance just enough for Jason to use the momentum to flip him onto his head. Vincent lands with an audible thud, but the layers of muscle wrapped around his neck absorb the shock and he shakes it off as he sits up.
Not wasting time, Jason leaps into the air. In mid-air, he lies on his side and slams his foot into the back of Vincent’s head. Vincent lets out a surprised grunt as the force of the kick causes him to pitch forward.
Jason rolls onto his back and uncoils both heels into the small of Vincent’s back. Slowly, Vincent maneuvers himself back to his feet, just in time to receive a hard cross to the jaw. Even as the blow pushes his cheek inward, he grabs Jason’s wrist and gives it a violent twist, nearly breaking it. Jason retaliates with a head butt. Vincent’s grip slackens as his free hand immediately flies up to his offended sensing organ. Jason capitalizes on the distraction by punching him in the throat as hard as he can. Vincent chokes on his own saliva as Jason rains in hammer like blows that eventually topple the man once more.
The handful of seconds Jason takes to catch his breath proves costly, as Vincent is back to his feet in record time.
Jason defends the much harder blows with his forearms. Each blow, regardless of what part of his arm it lands, rattles the young man’s entire skeleton. Jason manages to parry one of the punches and sneaks in a quick palm thrust to the chin. Vincent holds his jaw as he fends off the next two punches with his left hand.
One of Jason’s punches clips his lip, splitting it. Vincent shoots out his right hand and closes it around Jason’s neck. Lifting the smaller man from the ground, he buries his knee deep into Jason’s belly. Vincent slams his leg into Jason’s chest and then relinquishes his grip, allowing the Enforcer to crumple to the ground like so many others.
Jason coughs up a generous amount of blood before conceding defeat.
“I’ve failed. Finish me.”
“How thoughtful of you. But I rather not. You have peaked my interest Star. Since people began calling me the ‘God of Fighting,’ rarely has anyone taken me this long to beat. Even using more than half my full strength did little to deter you. So in the moments I held you by the throat and contemplated how exactly to extinguish what little fighter’s spirit you have, another more intrusive thought dawned on me. If killing your woman did this to you, what if I allowed you a month to train as well as promise to reveal to you the secret dimension the Enforcers have buried.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A dimension where it is possible to restore the life of a loved one. And before you accuse me of lying, think about it. You’ve traversed only a handful of dimensions in your pursuit of law-breakers. I’ve encountered a least four-dozen. Even if you don’t trust me, I’m giving you little say in the matter. In one month, I will come for you. If you manage to beat me then, I will give you the designation of said dimension. And if I’m lying either I’ll kill you or you’ll kill me. Either way you will achieve some semblance of peace.”
Vincent leaves the broken Enforcer to his thoughts. Before he is out of earshot, Vincent speaks once more.
“I hope her life will provide the proper motivation.” With that, the most powerful fighter on the planet enters his home.
After much concerted effort, Jason is back on his feet. Gazing directly at Vincent’s home, the realization that his life was in that man’s hand has not escaped him.
“One month,” he ponders aloud, “I’ll be ready. And for your sake, you better not be lying.”
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