The Cage Fighter

For a moment they both stood still, quite still, waiting for the other to strike. The deathly silence that filled the entire cage seemed unending and the two fighters were locked in an intense glare willing the other to take a shot. `Strike, come on, strike.' They taunted each other quietly.

Their stance was rigid and both were fully prepared, with fists clenched at chest level. The air around them was suffocating and the crowd around them could have cut the tension with a knife. The people stared, eyes riveted to the two alpha male forms in front of them, eagerly waiting for the `dance' to commence.

The fighters remained stock still, without ever looking away from the other. The one known only by his alias `Tiger' was already starting to bend. His patience was wearing thin and his fists were itching for that one swift blow to his opponent.

The need and desire to win had gotten the better of Tiger and in charging towards his target, had commenced the fight.

The dam of silence had been unleashed and the crowd grew wild, like a sea of hungry sharks tasting the euphoria that is blood… Money was thrown to the bookies at the sidelines, a symbol of their bets on the fighters.

Up on the platform, the two men were dancing to the deadly symphony of swift blows and even quicker dodges.

It was Tiger that had the crowd's confidence and money, but soon, it was going to be the one called `Wolverine' that would take it all away.

Wolverine had taken defense to Tiger's offense and he dodged all of Tiger's heavy kicks and he sidestepped Tiger's every blow. It was not until he saw the energy of Tiger's gradually dying away and replacing the man to staggered steps and slower movements that Wolverine began to reverse the roles to become the predator instead of the prey.

He waited for his opponent to finish with his miscalculated kick before moving in.

Wolverine, the newcomer to cage fighting, was going to be remembered as he rained on Tiger a series of left hooks and right cuts.

The crowd, traitors who'd sell their children to the devil, had changed sides and chants of `Wolverine' were replacing the dying ones for `Tiger'.

The crowd stared in awe as they witnessed the precision in Wolverine's liquid movements. Tiger was barely standing.

The dance was about to end as Tiger took his remaining breath. And like it started, both fighters were standing still again. The prayer for a quick death was a losing cage fighter's only last wish, and for Tiger, it was the same.

Wolverine needed only a blow, a finishing kick before he could be acclaimed the new champion of the ring and yet he made no move to do so.

“Kill him!” The crowd sang in glorious overtures.

It took him a moment to come to a decision.

He would not.

For Wolverine lived for himself, not for the entertainment of the people. Money was not a priority that should come before a man's life. Power was.

It was power that he craved. The power to play god, to know he could save or take away a life… was Wolverine's true greed.

Without looking back at Tiger, Wolverine left the ring. Knowing that he had given Tiger the opportunity to live a day more… to fight a day more.

For power was what Wolverine had desired… and power was what he left with that night.


	The Cage Fighter For a moment they both stood still, quite still, waiting for the other to strike. The deathly silence that filled the entire cage seemed unending and the two fighters were locked in an intense glare willing the other to take a shot. `Strike, come on, strike.' They taunted each other quietly. Their stance was rigid and both were fully prepared, with fists clenched at chest level. The air around them was suffocating and the crowd around them could have cut the tension with a knife. The people stared, eyes riveted to the two alpha male forms in front of them, eagerly waiting for the `dance' to commence. The fighters remained stock still, without ever looking away from the other. The one known only by his alias `Tiger' was already starting to bend. His patience was wearing thin and his fists were itching for that one swift blow to his opponent. The need and desire to win had gotten the better of Tiger and in charging towards his target, had commenced the fight. The dam of silence had been unleashed and the crowd grew wild, like a sea of hungry sharks tasting the euphoria that is blood… Money was thrown to the bookies at the sidelines, a symbol of their bets on the fighters. Up on the platform, the two men were dancing to the deadly symphony of swift blows and even quicker dodges. It was Tiger that had the crowd's confidence and money, but soon, it was going to be the one called `Wolverine' that would take it all away. Wolverine had taken defense to Tiger's offense and he dodged all of Tiger's heavy kicks and he sidestepped Tiger's every blow. It was not until he saw the energy of Tiger's gradually dying away and replacing the man to staggered steps and slower movements that Wolverine began to reverse the roles to become the predator instead of the prey. He waited for his opponent to finish with his miscalculated kick before moving in. Wolverine, the newcomer to cage fighting, was going to be remembered as he rained on Tiger a series of left hooks and right cuts. The crowd, traitors who'd sell their children to the devil, had changed sides and chants of `Wolverine' were replacing the dying ones for `Tiger'. The crowd stared in awe as they witnessed the precision in Wolverine's liquid movements. Tiger was barely standing. The dance was about to end as Tiger took his remaining breath. And like it started, both fighters were standing still again. The prayer for a quick death was a losing cage fighter's only last wish, and for Tiger, it was the same. Wolverine needed only a blow, a finishing kick before he could be acclaimed the new champion of the ring and yet he made no move to do so. “Kill him!” The crowd sang in glorious overtures. It took him a moment to come to a decision. He would not. For Wolverine lived for himself, not for the entertainment of the people. Money was not a priority that should come before a man's life. Power was. It was power that he craved. The power to play god, to know he could save or take away a life… was Wolverine's true greed. Without looking back at Tiger, Wolverine left the ring. Knowing that he had given Tiger the opportunity to live a day more… to fight a day more. For power was what Wolverine had desired… and power was what he left with that night.