The lights of the underground club went out; every last one. This sudden change caused a few people to gasp in surprise, but before anyone had time to panic, a new set of lights came on, though these ones were colored and moving from side to side, making the area look more like a light-show. For the people who came here on a normal basis, they knew exactly what this meant, and the gasps of surprise suddenly turned into anticipating cheers, and grew even louder when the music changed drastically.

The first song that played was a real oldie, but had a good enough beat to keep the awaiting crowd cheering on as the double doors of the restricted section swung open and a lean man standing at about 6’4” came out, putting in his mouth guard and giving the crowd a small show with a few warm-up punches as he jogged to the cage. Through the music and cheers, the announcer could barely be heard, introducing the man simply as ‘Spike.’ The crowd seemed to like him enough, since the rest of the announcer’s words were completely shut out by the growing roars and screams as Spike removed his shirt and handed it off to a much shorter man that had followed him to the cage, but stayed just outside the cage by the corner that Spike had gone to.

Spike’s music then abruptly cut off, and the crowd eased into quiet as the next song played; a song everyone would recognize to be Deon’s theme song he picked out personally every time he entered the arena, and the crowd went wild again.

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Deon didn’t come out the double doors that Spike had, however. No, Deon was all about breaking the rules. The crowd began to split as Deon made his way from his hiding place in the back of the room, walking with arrogance in every step as he relished in the crowd’s cheers and women reaching out to touch him as he, in no particular hurry, made his way to the cage. Once he broke free from the crowd, he turned to face them and gave a couple air-pumps with his fist, getting a response from the crowd of deafening screams. He paused to chuckle to himself a bit and then made his way up and down the front row of the crowd, giving out high-fives and even stopped to hug a woman who nearly fell down from the shock.

He went up and down the line one more time, handing out more high-fives before ‘dancing’ himself into the ring to take up his corner of the cage. He didn’t even give Spike a second glance as Deon kept his eyes on the crowd and put his fingers between the buttons of his shirt, ripping it open so that the buttons popped off from the force. If at all possible, the screams grew louder, though this time it was more of a female audience. Deon wadded up the now ruined shirt and threw it out to a group of practically crying women through the bars, smirking as he watched them pull each other’s hair and flying their fists in an effort to get the shirt all to themselves.

Deon let out his own scream, filling the air with even more testosterone in an effort to amp up the crowd once more before he finally faced his opponent. He looked Spike over and smirked, jerking his head and body forward mocking a cobra in its strike and then couldn’t help but to chuckle at his own arrogance. He raised both arms in the air, a symbol of victory, and took another look at the crowd, seeing if he could spot any of his fellow Wolves.

The crowd very well knew that Deon was a Wolf himself, since the red scar of a hand print on his right bicep wasn’t exactly hidden, but he didn’t care about keeping it hidden, nor did the audience seem to care that he was a bloodthirsty killer. No, in this environment, that kind of thing was only encouraged.