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Although you aren't convinced that
any of the creatures are real, you choose The Jersey Devil and use the
last of your money to place a $300 bet. There is a certain freakish
savagery and a gleam of malice in its eyes that indicate it will be a
formidable adversary.
"Excellent choice," Captain Omaha says as he
quiets the crowd and prepares to start the match. "We'll see how he fares
against The Beast of Exmoor."
You were hoping for a different
opponent. Of all the fighters that The Jersey Devil could have been pitted
against this one looks to be as savage as anything you've ever seen. It's
too late to switch your bet, and you say a quick prayer that luck will be
on your side.
The Jersey Devil comes out whinnying like a
Clydesdale and flapping wings that seem to expand and grow, stretching
parchment thin to reveal a set of nasty looking talons at each end. The
Beast of Exmoor screams like a woman in distress and leaps out of its
cage, eager to spill blood.
The rest is a blur.
The Jersey
Devil uses its equine legs to smash the jaw of the enormous black cat as
it pounces and rips into both flanks with its talons. But even with the
bones in its face smashed and huge gashes on either side, The Beast of
Exmoor still has claws of its own that it uses to swipe at The Jersey
Devil's soft underbelly. The Devil makes a sound that resembles a child in
distress, full of panic and bewilderment. Its innards slide out of the
massive gash like mutated offspring.
The floor is suddenly slick
with bodily fluids, not all of them belonging to The Devil. A few of the
spectators vomit at the grotesque sight.
Your stomach churns as
you see your future squawking around the gymnasium like a gutted chicken,
but not because you're sickened by the sight. You're thinking more about
what will happen to you if The Devil loses this match, what Little Jimmy's
henchmen will do to you in order to get back the money you owe. You can't
let this happen, but you aren't sure what you can possibly do to help The
Jersey Devil hang on to life long enough to defeat The Beast of Exmoor.
The Beretta juts out of the waistband of your slacks, yet you know that
isn't an option. The first sign of gunfire will have every pistol in the
room drawn. And then who knows what might go down.
The hunting
knife in your boot seems like a much safer bet, but you aren't quite sure
how to use it. Still, you take it out surreptitiously, trying not to draw
too much attention.
Panicking, The Jersey Devil plows through a
group of onlookers, knocking them down and covering them in a thick layer
of its blood as it does its best to keep from tripping over the lengths of
viscera that hang from its gut. You laugh nervously and then choke down a
gasp as you realize The Jersey Devil has suddenly changed directions and
is coming your way.
The Beast of Exmoor leans back on its haunces,
prepared to pounce and finish the battle once and for all. Within a matter
of seconds both of them will be in range.
You realize this will be
your chance to help The Jersey Devil turn the tide.
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