ManBeast - Book 1: A Kingdom of Predators

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

"What did you say, he's here?" an affluent and flamboyantly fashionable older human woman sitting on a lounge couch speaks into his cellphone. Accompanied by two other luxuriant and sophisticated-looking older males, the older woman stood up off of the couch, excited by the recent news she had just received. "That's right, Mrs. Famorelli; he just walked in a minute ago; he didn't look in bad shape either. Why did you want to know about that?" the thick wheezy voice inquires. "Never you mind, Todd; Your job was guarding the door tonight and who better to keep me abreast about who attends matches than the doorman? Was he alone again?" the woman inquired, as her curiosity piqued.

The thick voice named Todd gave a half-grunted chuckle into the phone's receiver: "No, not this time. He had this kid I've never seen before; curious type, could tell he's never been to a "den". He looked kinda familiar though, like somebody's son or something." The lady grabbed a champagne glass off of a nearby nightstand and hurriedly motioned for one of the men present to fill her glass with drink: "I fucking knew it. Well, this changes nothing I suppose, so excellent work Todd. I'll wire you some pocket cash for your troubles. Mums the word on you playing look-out for me tonight; don't need the big boss giving me gripe about my personal interests."

Todd ended the call with a "No problem, Mrs. Famorelli," leading the now excited woman to raise her glass, prompting her company to do the same. "What are we toasting to, Teri? Was the job completed??" one of the suave looking human males asked. "I bet he survived and had Jones' kid with him, like we betted on," the other larger man said, while twiddling his handlebar mustache.

The affluent woman walked over to the decorative coffee table in front of them, and stomped one of her heels down on the table: "We're toasting to making some more fucking money and crushing whoever tries to stop us! The game may still be on, but us Representatives haven't lost yet! Cheers!" As the party downed their drinks and laughed in glee, the woman received a text message alert on his phone; briefly looking at it, he shook his head annoyedly, and tossed his phone aside.

A short ride, a jolt from the elevator stopping, and the doors opened; the sounds of commotion grew louder. Frankie and Jules walked down a short dark hallway, and opened two large elaborate doors. Upon stepping inside, Jules couldn't believe his eyes: a large arena had been constructed underground. In the center of the underground arena, a dirt colored ring stood several feet off of the ground; each side to it had a series of steps leading up to the center stage. The ring itself was dusty looking and covered with dark stains; in shape, it was circular in design, with the edge of the ring was marked off with white lines. Three center lines were painted inside, each evenly spaced within the middle of the ring. By approximation, Jules guessed that the size of the ring was roughly nine meters in diameter.

Outside of the arena on either side, there were a series of benches and medical equipment on stand-by. Surrounding the ring several feet off were wooden stands that already had several people sitting in them; there weren't too many people in attendance, by Jules' estimation, but everyone there looked as though they belonged. Roughneck types, business men, amateur athletes, gym jockeys, human and Beast-Man alike...all present and avidly involved in their own interests. Small groups of people were gathered on either side of the arena, huddled around two men in stark white suits. They were waving slips of paper, to which the small gatherings around them were frantically trying to gain their attention. "In house betting; small pool action," Frankie whispered.

This made sense to Jules; a large-scale system for outside gains, and a smaller one for fast-and-loose earnings. Jules then noticed that most of the people sitting in the stands who were dressed well had those slips of paper in hand, while the more physical types did not. Frankie led the two over to the stands, taking a seat in an empty area with a good direct view of the center of the ring. Jules sat next to Frankie and continued to observe his surroundings; he saw that the stains in the ring were blood stains, old and dried, likely a result of years' worth of combat. The arena floor also had an upper story, part of which had reflective mirror windows facing outward. This made it impossible to see inside; Jules decided to ask about this: "What goes on up there?"