The “Ring”, a brutal palace for the destruction of the human body in the most violent way. A place where 20,789 people had paid an average of $98.72 cents for the privilege of watching the fight live. According to the promoters, another 100 million people would pony up the $69.99 to watch the event on pay-per-view. 

A solemn knock on the door a half-second before it burst open. The florid-faced events coordinator stepped in, his voice squeaked. 
“You’re up . . . Good luck.”

Through the open door the strains of Puscifer’s - [hider=The Undertaker] [url]youtube.com/embed/HXXuGSlMmho[/url][/hider] roared through the stadium, followed by a cacophony of cheers and boos.

[color=fff200]You were way out of line
Went and turned it all around on me again
How can I not smell your lie
Through the smoke and arrogance?[/color]

Jake “The Under” Taker stood up, letting the satin black robe cascade down his body. The heavy black fingered gloves clenched several times. A grim smiled crossed his lips as he looked up and whispered a prayer to the gods for victory. If they didn’t give it, well, fuck them. 

The handlers, hanger-on’s and fight men began their banal pep talks, all of which were ignored as Jake strode through the door. In the bright, clean hallway, photographers snapped their pictures; well-wishers cast their words, which fell away as soon as Jake passed them.

[color=fff200]But now I know
So you will not get away with it again
I'm distant in those hollow eyes
For I have reached my end
[/color]

The heavy curtains peeled away, followed by wild cheers and thousands of feet stamping, making the “Ring” reverberate with  their impacts.  As soon as Jake stepped through, he focused on the music, his mahogany eyes on the shimmering octagon and his opponent. A large man. One who had been given a shot on the card, Jake’s opponent had cancelled. A death in the family. More than likely the man didn’t want to face him. It didn’t matter, he was a fighter and he was here to fight.

[color=fff200]Thank you for
Makin' me
Feel like
I'm guilty
Makin' it
Easier to
Murder your sweet
Memory[/color]

Once inside the ring, Jake stopped just inside the cage; his head down as the crowd erupted, The crowd in their ragged, screaming voices, following along with the song. Eyes closed he listened a moment as the crowd roared their blood lust. The grim smile graced his lips briefly as he slowly opened his eyes, focusing on his opponent. 


[color=fff200]Before I go tell me
Were you ever who you claimed yourself to be?
Either way, I must say goodbye
You are dead to me
[/color]

At that moment Jake dropped the robe, exposing his heavily, muscled body. Broad shouldered and narrow hipped, thick butt and heavily muscled thighs made Jake Taker one of the world’s best MMA fighters. The muscles provided the force, but it was his uncanny speed of hand and foot that made him deadly. 

Stepping into the center of the octagon, he shook his long arms and legs, pausing a moment facing each of the sides of the ring, bowing slowly. When he was done he turned to face his opponent bowing slightly, then nodding at the referee. 

[color=fff200]Thank you for
Makin' me
Feel like
I'm guilty
Makin' it
Easier to
Murder your sweet
Memory, I'm
Severin' the
Heartline, I'm
Leavin' your
Corpse behind
Not dead, but
Soon to be, though
I'm not gonna be the one that kills you

I'm gonna leave that up to you
I'm gonna leave that up to you
I'm gonna leave that up to you
I'm gonna leave that up to you (I told you so)
[/color]