After this battle they would be freed from their debt to the cartel and they could go back to their families. They all had ended up in various ways. Instead of paying it off normally they were offered this 'opportunity'. Fighting in deadly arena matches on the cartel's behalf. They had to do from five to ten matches depending on how deadly the matches were.
He only did two previous matches that he barely survived but now this was the last one which would complete his debt to the cartel. He had screwed up a delivery and a bunch of drugs ended up in police custody. So now he was paying the debt of failure by completing this job and his family would not have to suffer because of his screw up.
"Time to release the hunters!" The announcer's voice rang out through the stadium as the door opened and they were released.
He looked over at the other four that were working for the same group as him. They were all wearing goofy Hispanic armor. As well as wielding wooden shields with feathers coming off them and metal tipped wooden spears. As fighters they were treated like a joke by the cartel and were made to wear these ridiculous outfits. It was fortunate they were functional as well.
He looked to one side and saw another group, probably the Yakuza or something. He could tell because they were wielding katanas. Further along that side he saw a bunch of people with nothing on except butcher knives and underwear running right toward the central structure.
He looked on the other side and could see a group in green suits and hats. With a wooden mug in one hand and a wooden baton in the other. Then beyond them was another cartel group. He could tell because they came out in giant wooden masks that had feathers and stuff coming out of them. They were wielding machetes in hand.
He shook his head as he realized this battle would be difficult to get the monster's heads before the others. He exchanged a look with the rest of his team and then rushed forward to the structure. Just as they kicked the flimsy wooden doors they heard the screams.
"Aaaahhh! My arm!" It was guttural as it ripped up into the air. Coming from the direction of the Chinese. They moved through another set of doors and almost ran face first into another group. This was another cartel. But they had hammers and wood axes in their hands. They took a look at them and tensed up. But then they all flinched as another scream came from a room next to them. "His head! His head is gone!" Then the door broke as the body of one of the Chinese mobsters skidded across the ground, sans head.
The bloody stump was an eye opener for both cartels as he and one of the other cartel members both moved to the center of the room and watched through the door into the other room. Inside that room they could see Killer Croc as he used a sword to block a katana strike before bringing up one of his legs and kicking one of them right through the weak wooden wall.
He frowned for a moment before nodding and looking at the others. "Let's go find the other one." He then led them out and up the stairs. They should be a good place to see him from up here.
He pushed open the door and stopped in his tracks at what he saw. It was the Irish Mobsters. They were hanging from the roof by their green ties. Some of them had their heads smashed in. Others had a hole going right through their chest.
"This is a nightmare… What are these monsters? The fight has only just started and they are tearing us down like we are nothing!" He yelled in surprise. He could hear one of his people say a prayer in Spanish. He turned around to yell at the man when his blood went cold.
Standing- no… crouching on the wooden railing of the stairs was a man in an orange prison jumpsuit. The other person that the Russians had labeled as a monster. But it was no secret that they just wanted him dead, but they might have been right to label the man as a monster.
There were clear slashes and cuts in his jumpsuit. But his skin was undamaged. Instead he was covered in blood while in one hand he held a sharpened wooden stick, the sharp end was covered in blood that was still dripping from the tip. In his other hand was a hunk of metal that was covered in blood that was still dripping.
As terrifying as that all was. He was far more terrified by the full toothed grin that the man was giving him. His eyes were blazing with excitement as he stared them down. "Fuck…" It was the last word he said before the hunk of metal flew at his head. Then a second later the hunk of metal was embedded in the wall and the head of the man had exploded into bloody chunks and his body was flopping to the ground.
The rest of the cartel group was not long for the world either. As Rico stabbed the bloody wooden stick right down through one of their spines while they were still stunned. Then he jumped at another and shoved his fingers into his eyes before pulling to the sides and tearing the man's skull in two. He then threw the two halves of the skull at the last two cartel members who had turned tail and ran. One of them tripped as the skull half hit him and he fell face first into a wooden post. The post popped through the back of the cartel member's head and his body went limp.
The last one made it through the door and Rico sighed in annoyance. He walked over to one of their spears and picked it up. He then activated his eagle vision so he could see the cartel member as he ran in desperation toward the edge of the arena. He then hefted the spear into position and then threw with all his strength. The spear cut right through the walls and stabbed into the cartel member. The crowd was roaring with applause as they watched from hidden cameras that were around the structure. He looked right at one of the cameras before looking for the next group to terrify. It would take a few moments so he should stack up the bodies with the Irish Mobsters.
Maybe he was having too much fun with this fight.
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