((The story will have suggestive themes, sexuality, depraved ideals, drug use and more. You've been duly warned.))



913 Days ago.
Las Vegas, Nevada.

?Sir?? The cat nudged the man from his sleep. ?Sir? You really should wake up for this.?

The man rolled in his sleep, on one side of him was the ring girl. She held the digital signs for the rounds, wearing as-little-as possible, which wasn?t enough cloth to blow his nose on. She was Asian, and he always loved a well built Asian girl. She was looking for work as a model, he hired her and used her, just like he did with everyone.
Finally with the insistent voice, and constant push against his flabby arm, Skully opened his eyes and focused through the Jack Daniels and cocaine fog. Four days of debauchery, ruined in fifteen minutes by a trustee in the form of a were-cat.

The cat, seeing the master?s eyes open, smiled down at him with a much too angular face. It was all points and strange curves to be considered handsome, he was too small to breed, and too weak to fight.

?Ah, Sir. Apologies for waking you, but you might wish to know--? His voice was cut off as his master?s hand wrapped around his throat.

?I was sleeping, Spencer.? He squeezed tighter, feeling the smaller man?s trachea shift beneath his palm. ?I told you no one disturbs me, when I am sleeping.? He let go of the cat as his face began to turn a deep crimson and bordered on burgundy.

?Apologies, Master.? The cat choked out. ?But, Spence thinks you should accompany him to the cages.?

?I?ve seen them,? The master rolled back over and threw a meaty arm around the still sleeping Asian. She felt cold to the touch under his arm, so he absently checked for a pulse that he wasn?t finding. ?Spencer, are you hearing her heartbeat?? He asked of the cat he knew to have better hearing than his own.

?No, Master. Nor any air passing through lungs.?

?Goddamit.? He sighed and looked at her blue lips and red rimmed eyes. She was still beautiful, he thought. ?Maybe one more go, before we incinerate her, Spence.? The cat?s face showed no emotion. He had grown used to the master?s tastes. ?Well, I?m awake now, what?s so damned important?? He put his hand into the puddle the ring girl left in his bed when she passed with a cool squish. The man glanced at his hand, and he wiped it dry on the tail of his silk robe.

?Sir,? The cat?s voice trembled as he spoke, he knew the rage soon to come. ?Sin is gone, Master.?

The man looked at the cat, and reached out to catch him by the locked collar at his neck. ?What do you mean ?gone???
?Gone, Sir. As in not in his cage.? The man threw the cat against the wall of his suite easily as he stood from the bed, and straightened up. He?d been a fighter once, and still held the physique of one of the greatest though time, age, and diet had caught up to him.

?I know what the hell gone means, but where is Sin??

?The trackers are looking, Sir. They?ve yet to report.?

?Take me to the cages, I want to see this Houdini trick.?

?That?s not all, Sir.? The cat spoke quietly, as to not draw worse of the master?s anger.

?What else is there?? He turned and narrowed his eyes, the scars along the left side, jutted and folded when he held that look. He watched the cat as he pulled something from the pack at his side and offered it without meeting the hardened gaze.

?Sin?s collar sir. He?s removed it somehow.?

Morlov stepped, no squeezed into the cell. He had to put his body nearly sideways and onto one knee to get through the door. Once he was inside his big hand came to his face.
?Thought it smelled bad outside this cage.? He reached into the leather long coat?s pocket to retrieve his case of cigars. ?Got to get ventilation in here, Mister P.? He said as he addressed the man who stood next to his cat trustee.

Morlov scratched over the weeks? worth of growth on his squared chin and struck a wood match for a flame for his cigar. The flare of light, even as small as the match, made the cat squint then sneeze as the smell of the sulfide reached his delicate nose.

?S?matter Puss? Can?t appreciate a good stoagie?? Morlov asked the trustee and was only answered with an indignant sniff. All too wide shoulders shook as he rumbled forth a laugh.

?Are you here to annoy the help, Mister Morlov or here for the reason I called you?? The man finally spoke up. ?If you are just here to annoy, I could let spectators in for that.?

?Spectators is how you afford people like me.?

?You used to draw them into the matches,? the man's eyes shown brightly, remembering ?Morlov the Monster Killer? in days of gory glory.

?So did you, Mister P,? Morlov said as he exhaled large lung filled clouds of cigar smoke. ?But, like you, I won my freedom.? He turned to stare upward at the scrawled letters, and struck another match to see them clearer.

?You were a God!? The man said excitedly, ?Undefeated and a fan favorite, even the Russians loved you, and respected your power in the rings.? He was watching the massive figure look over the words, and then touched big fingers into the coagulated letters. ?You could have been rich!?

?Or, I could have been dead.? Morlov cleared his throat and spat on the wall over one of the letters. ?Mister P, you know the breeding is making this into the younger beast?s game. I heard they have a hybrid in Reno, a celestial vampire. What kind of sick f*ck thought that was a good idea?? Thick, massive fingers swirled into the saliva and blood smear that made up part of the message.

?What kind of controller holds that one in check?? The man mused.

Morlov shrugged and stuck his wet fingers into his wide mouth, next to the small cigar. ?Okay, shut it Mister P, I?m trying to work here.?

The spinning back fist dazed him, then the follow-up with the elf's heel dropped Sin to the cement floor. He hadn't the time to heal properly and knew the best way to get this elf down, was to stay in close.

"The Great Sin." The elf's musical laughter filled the cage and drifted over the screaming voices outside. "How the mighty have fallen." He moved in again, and lashed out a kick to Sin's side, with enough force to crack bone and send him into the cold alloy bars. "I sought a challenge this day!" He spit as he turned and lifted his arms to the crowd. "I am the..." He stopped when he heard the beast's low growl, and turned to see Sin perched. One clawed hand on the floor of the cage, the other out, and his legs coiled, ready to spring. "The beast emerges!" He laughed again. "Do your worst."

Sin leapt through the air, half running half flying, as he used leg muscles to launch. The elf readied himself, taking a side defense pose, almost identical to those used in kung fu. Everything seemed to slow down as claws met the elf's alabaster flesh, and it seems every move Sin through, the elf countered with his own.

"Come on! I was told you are the best!" The elf taunted as he landed blow after blow, while countering the wolf.

Morlov watched in interest. The wolf wasn't slowing down. He would get back up no matter what the elf did to him.

"He's getting destroyed," Morlov said without looking at the well dressed man beside him. "You promised my revenge for the eye."

The man put his hand on the much larger one of Morlov and patted. "Patience, my large friend. The wolf is getting mad."

Morlov moved his hand from beneath the other's, and wanted to wipe away the feeling left behind. Eye fell to the crystal topped cane and his jaw tightened. He was about to say more, but a sudden eruption from the crowd turned his attention to the ring once more.

Sin held the elf by the throat, pinned in the corner, and was working on tearing apart the mid section. Blood splashed crimson on alabaster and the elf kept laughing. "Do your worst!" He taunted again, before both hands landed on the side of the wolf's head, over his ears with a deafening 'whump.' Sin was disoriented and dropped the elf back to the cage floor, much to the disbelief of his fans.

"Come on, Sin... you can do it!"
"I've got the house riding on you."
"I've bet my soul!"

Words seemed to swim around him. Thick, like the air before a Southern thunderstorm. He was seeing double, and the elf was holding the gashed side as he moved in again.

"You aren't so bad..." He landed two fast punches to the wolf's snout. "I'd have more trouble with a kitten." Two knees to already busted ribs. "In fact, when I am done with you, I will find that whore of a mother that bore you, and give her a son worth holding pride for." He stepped back and swung a round house kick, but it was stopped cold and bones crushed with a clawed paw.

"There Morlov, you see? The elf never knows when to shut his mouth. Be a dear, and go collect our winnings." The Promoter waved the big brute away dismissively.

"The fight isn't over." Morlov said as the elf finally cried out in pain, the bones of his foot and ankle grinding together in broken fragments.

Morlov turned to watch as Sin batted away swats and punches as the elf tried to break free, then used the same destroyed foot to swing the fast talking elf into the bars of the cage, with all of the force and rage of an injured animal.

The first hit made the bars sing.

The second hit sounded like snapping bones. Enough to make the crowd grow into an uneasy silence.

The third hit sounded like wet clay, as body and skull broke open wide, and sprayed the first two rows with the blue blood of the elf, mixed with brain and bone.

Sin finally dropped the dead weight , and watched as his opponent slid down the bars.

"In a stunning turn of events, Sin comes back in the forth round to take down Barnalan." A nervous announcer finally said over the hushed crowd. "You spectators on the west side of the ring even get to take a little piece of the action home with you!" He laughed, but the sound was hollow and dry. "Lets hear it for SIN!"

Morlov shook his head and walked toward the cashier's cage to gather winnings for the Promoter.

Charlie walked to his second story apartment. Past the drunk on the stairs, over the pieces of old porn mags, and around crushed out cigarettes. He frowned at his current situation, and remembered when he and Sin ruled the rings. Life was good then. Fancy dining, expensive drinks, fine cigars and women? ah the women.

?Hey Charlie,? The girl from 2C was outside of her apartment, as was the usual several times a day for her smokes. ?Sorry I had to cut out on ya, but my damn sitter had to go.? The baby sitter for her son she wouldn?t smoke in front of, by a father she didn?t know the name of.

?It is okay, Deb, really.? Charlie lied. He went to bed with the worse case of blue ball he?d ever had in all his life. The girl was a stripper. She knew moves, touches, and ways to promise things that she never intended to follow through to deliver. If it wasn?t for the drugs, she would have nice things and not be living in the rathole building they shared. ?Maybe another time, yeah??

?I?m off at three.?

?We?ll see what I am doing.?

Charlie was a sucker for a pretty face and thick body. Deb had both in spades. He?d dropped money on her at the club, a long time before she even admitted they shared the same building. Since then, he?d had her over for private dances, slowly dwindling down the rest of his savings. 'You can?t take it with you', he thought to himself.

?Oh, tell your uncle hi for me, and it was nice to meet him.?

Uncle? Charlie looked toward his door, and saw the bottle he?d placed in front had been knocked over. The wino?s alarm wasn?t accurate, but it was affordable.

He nodded to her and stepped toward his door, one hand moving to the pistol at his side, beneath his coat. The door swung open easily, showing the splintered wood around where the lock had been. Charlie pressed his back against the wall waiting as the door came to a stop against the milk crate that held a few of his records, old vinyl, The Doors, Kinks, Ramones, good stuff that he could never really bring himself to toss out.

?Come on in, Charlie. Your casa is my casa.? He stepped around the corner to see The Promoter sitting on his worn out couch, and he looked quite comfortable, Charlie thought, sitting on something he dragged from a dumpster.

Charlie stepped in and moved toward the man, gun still in hand.

?What are you doing here?? Charlie tried to sound tough, but the door slammed behind him, and he jumped.

Morlov laughed as he walked past Charlie and clapped him on the shoulder.

?High strung, Charles??

?What do you two want? We are square!? His hand started to shake.

?We want to talk, Charlie? About Sin.?

The blood was so thick in the air you could taste it. The combatants were unwilling to fall, though they had every right. Gashes, bruises, broken bones and pain were all over their faces and bodies, yet they would not quit.

Morlov stood in the corner, waiting for the next round staring at the nearly broken wolf that would not stop.

"He won't submit," Morlov said after he spat a mouthful of green blood into the funnel offered by The Handler. "why won't he admit defeat?"

"If you want thissss one to ssstop, Morlov... kill him, you mussssst." The Handler spoke as his forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air, and the blood upon it.

"Mister P, wants him alive. This match is to put him into the pool, make more." Morlov spat again, the would from his fangs cutting his lip would need stitches.

"Then I ssssssugessst you break him, Morlov."

The bell rang indicating the next round and Sin was already landing blows with fists and rending with claws. Morlov was surprised at the beast's speed. No werewolf was ever that fast, they were all predictable in their moves and fighting styles, but this one, he had never seen the likes of.

Morlov swung his fist only to hit air as the wolf jumped at the last possible second onto his wide back. Once there, he started punching and biting the back of the bigger being's neck.

"Are you trying to take my head Little Wolf?" Morlov asked while he was swinging his arms back, trying to find something to grab to pull Sin off of him.

"Why don't you give up and go back to hell, spawn?" Sin growled as he kept tearing at his opponent.

Morlov felt fur and pushed his arm back further as fingers found flesh and he grasped to pull the wolf free. After a struggle against claws that dug into his back and neck, Morlov held Sin at the nape of his neck, much like someone would scold a puppy.

"You first, Sin." He said with a sneer.

He tossed the wolf down to the cage floor, using his weight to grind him a bit before he swung him up, over his head to repeat the process.

The second hit, sent white hot sensors of blinding pain through his body.

The third hit, he felt something break... in several places.

The fourth hit, the blood flowed from his snout, running out of his mouth and nose.

The fifth hit, everything was fading to black and he found himself begging for death. He could feel the Reaper, who'd been cheated countless times.

Then he felt the warm, foul breath of Morlov as he lifted him to look at his broken face. His jaw hung open and slack, his coat covered in warm, thick blood.

"Oh how the mighty have fallen." Morlov dropped the broken champion to the floor the last time and raised his hands into the air. "Undefeated!" He shouted, to minimal applause while people watched their hero, unmoving on the bloody floor. "Do not mourn the weak, praise the strong!" Morlov shouted again, as Charlie stared at the body of his meal ticket, mangled and broken.

"Charlie, we had a wager." The Promoter said in a rich and deep tone. "If you'll sign here." He held an old parchment out to the other man and Charlie took the pen in shaking hand.

"I don't know why you want him, he's gone." Charlie signed ownership of Sin away, and before the ink had time to dry, he was walking away.

Three days prior to the visit with Charlie.

Morlov stepped back and looked at the empty collar in Skully, the Promoter?s hands.
?Is that his??
?Yes.? The man answered as he shifted the crystal topped cane from one hand to another. The cat-man beside him following every movement made.
?If he slipped out of it, can?t that thing do the same??
The Promoter?s eyes fell to Spence, and watched as the cat?s green eyes widened.
?Spence would never leave, Master saved him.?
?You see Morlov, Spencer doesn?t have any of Sin?s? unique gifts.? Skully ran his hand roughly over the top of the cat?s head. ?Otherwise I would have him in the rings and not just as a servant.?
Morlov leaned his massive head down to look at the cat with his good eye. ?He?d be good in the ring with the right training, just for speed alone.?
Had Spencer been in his human form he might have gone pale. ?Mister Mortdrake, Spence is lover, not a fighter,? He purred for effect.
?Love? That can be ripped out of you, and all that?s left is a killer.? Morlov stood up and chuckled as he looked back at the blood smeared above the door. ?Any idea on why he scrawled out Happy Birthday??
?Is today his birthday?? Skully asked the cat.
?Spence is unsure. There are no records where Sin is concerned. Only contract signed by Charles.?

Skully slid the collar into his jacket pocket and stood. "Morlov, standard fees, lets go see Charles."
Morlov smiled and shook his head. "I get paid another three to travel. We will settle up when I see how much work I have to do."
Skully glared at the merc. He had no control over him anymore and they both knew it.
"Fine, we will settle afterward."
"Good to work with you again, Mister P."