"Where are you even taking us?" Arcadia asked.
"Nowhere particular, just away from here." Marcus said. "You two aren't just any pair of travellers. Who did you piss off?" Marcus asked me.
"Some guy named Galgamere." I sighed.
Marcus glanced at Stryker, not long before locking eyes with me.
"'Some guy'? Hang on a second... I recognize that sword. You're that mercenary from that run down office in Manhattan." Marcus' eyes quickly glanced over to Stryker.
"That's me." I sighed.
"You've made a bit of a commotion lately. Why are you looking for the Elementals?"
"How do you even know any of this?"
Marcus grinned lopsidedly.
"I have friends."
Marcus intended to ridicule me, but I have no idea why. As we drove down the rode, Marcus would occasionally check the rear view mirrors to check for anything, but his eyes were either focused on the road, or on Arcadia sitting in the back, who would receive a grin every time she was glanced at, shortly shooting me a suspicious look afterwards.
She your property now, is she?
"What's the go? What's your deal?" Marcus asked the two of us.
"Well you picked up on the Elemental thing, we're looking for the rest of them. It's just me, yet to find the other three." Arcadia said.
"For what, Galgamere's routine bedtime? It's pretty pointless anyway, isn't it? I mean, he's just going to come back."
"Trust me, I didn't ask for any of this." I spat.
"What about you? What's your story?" Arcadia smiled.
"Oh, you know. I flew back from Australia a few months ago, with some close friends to grieve. Came back home and... I had to get out on my own for a little bit, drive down some good highway."
The radio quickly buzzes on out of nowhere without any of us laying our hand on it.
"Hello Supernaturals! Whether you're heavenly, hellish or just a powerhouse here on Earth, come to this exclusive event that YOU have been invited to! Yes, that's right, YOU! Bring a friend or two or ten, we don't care! Come have a fight and be in the running to win a cash prize! Our Champion this year is the Fire Elemental himself, Tulla! It is located at Utah, on top of the highest cliff! See you there!"
Throughout the message, the radio hummed with an ominous choir, as if it was some incantation to air such a bizarre invitation. Maybe it knew that Marcus and Arcadia were in the car and it sought out strong beings like them.
"Did you put that on?" I asked.
"I didn't. Did you?" Marcus replied.
"We should go." I smiled, "Cash is always good."
"Fight club it is." Arcadia shrugged.
***
After a huge road trip down to the canyon ranges of Utah, the queue to just get in was huge on its own. This was a festival that no one was going to miss. Marcus was patiently tapping his finger tips on the steering wheel as we slowly made our way up. Once we finally got to a gate, a ticket taker came up to us, who's race appeared to be a satyr. He was wearing a hi-vision orange shirt with a tag hanging around his neck.
"Welcome to the party dudes and dudette! You guys look like you don't have passes," The satyr bellowed with excitement, "so which of you guys are fighting and who's watching?"
YOU ARE READING
Karta Stryker
AcciónHope. Revolution. Words Karta would not previously embrace, but would soon have no other choice but become the very face of these things. His childhood scattered by memories of running away, being hunted down, but Karta doesn't remember anything bef...
