As two attendants placed Stallion's limp and bloodied form on a gurney that was lifted up to the edge of the pit, the next two fighters emerged from opposite ends of the arena and began descending the stairs.

Both young warriors had the strong, dark features of their Native American ancestors. One wore a black cowboy hat, his pony-tail reaching down to his muscled ass, an unbuttoned jean jacket revealing glistening stomach muscles and tattered blue jeans.

The other fighter wore a white T-shirt stretched tightly over hardened chest muscles, a high, jet-black mohawk of hair that spilled partway down a muscular back and jean shorts cut off just below his ample bulge.

Some in the audience began placing bets on the fight's outcome while others waited for a closer examination of the combatants. Both fighters descended the rope ladders simultanously on opposites sides of the pit and, turning, locked eyes in an icy stare, unmoving.

Weasel descended onto the pit floor, megaphone in hand.

"For the second qualifying fight of the night, the Gladiator Club is pleased to welcome two new warriors to the pit. On my left, weighing in at 195 pounds, from the Apache nation, 18-year-old Wolf!"

Wolf, his eyes locked on his enemy, removed the jacket, boots, and hat and, at Weasel's urging, undid the rope that held his pony-tail, allowing his thick black hair to flow around his shoulder, chest and back.

"And on my right, weighing in at 205 pounds, from the Mohawk nation, 18-year- old Thunder!"

Thunder removed the stretched T-shirt with one hand and, reaching into his shorts, pulled out a small jar of a black, grease-like substance that that he applied as two black stripes across his closed eyes and the middle of his face as the unruly crowd cheered its approval. He then stood, arms dangling at his side, eyes locked on that of Wolf's.

In the center of the pit, Weasel removed his dirty baseball cap, sending unruly blonde hair cascading down his face. As he shook the hair from his eyes, he reached into his hat and produced two long, white-and-brown mottled feathers.

"In the tradition of their ancestors, the winner of this fight will claim the feather, and the honor, of his defeated enemy!" The crowd cheered as Weasel handed one feather to each young fighter who carefully tied it into his own thick hair.

Weasel ran to one of the rope ladders and, as it and its counterpart across the pit floor was lifted up, shouted, "Brave warriors! Let your animal guides take over and FIGHT!"

The warriors circled each other, fists raised, muscles tensed, as the crowd screamed out its enouragement. As the two came dangerously close, Thunder�s left fist flashed out, landing a solid punch to Wolf's nose, snapping the boy's head back for an instant. Wolf stumbled back a step, lessening the impact of Thunder's quick right fist to Wolf's rippled stomach.

The two resumed their circling as blood began to trickle from Wolf's nostrils.

In a flash, Thunder swivled back, shifting his weight onto his left foot as his right foot flew out in an arc, crashing into Wolf's mouth as it passed and snapping the young fighter's head to the right. Wolf shook off the stun of the blow as he raised the back of his hand to the cuts on his lip. A thin line of blood formed on either corner of his mouth.

As the two young braves circled, Wolf's left foot flew out in an arc, but Thunder anticipated the move and launched his own roundhouse kick, the two canceling the other out with the slapping of flesh.

The move left the two fighters within inches of each other, but before Wolf could react, Thunder put his weight into his leg and in a flash, drove his knee deep into Wolf's rippled stomach.

With a grunt of pain, the warrior doubled over clutching his stomach and crashed to his knees. As the crowd screamed its approval, Thunder walked cautiously to Wolf's side and waited.

Wolf shook his head to clear the pain then slowly looked up through a mop of sweat-clumped hair. Sensing his enemy, Wolf glanced to the side and upward, catching Thunder's glare. In an instant, Thunder's muscled leg shot out, kicking Wolf hard in the face, the force of the kick sending the young fighter spinning onto his back screaming in pain as his hand covered the right side of his swelling face with both hands.

The crowd's screams grew louder as Thunder stood frozen, glaring down at his opponent. Wolf again shook off the pain and begin raising his upper torso off the pit's dirt floor. In a continous movement, Thunder stepped over Wolf's downed form, spun in place and, raising his right foot, stomped his heel into the downed teen's stomach.

Wolf doubled over grasping his stomach as the crowd's roar grew deafening. Thunder now dropped to his knees and grabbed Wolf's chin in one hand. Muscles tensed in his chest and arm as he drew his fist back, but Wolf's fist flew out blindly, landing a light punch to Thunder's eye.

The punch took Thunder off guard, freezing him just long enough for Wolf to tighten chest and stomach muscles, sending his knee into Thunder's stomach. As Thunder scrambled to his feet, he shot his right foot down onto Wolf's stomach with a slap of flesh. Wolf rolled to the side as Thunder attempted another stomp, jumping up to standing position.

The two fighters raised their fists and began circling, blood now trickling down from Wolf's nose and a gash in his cheek. Wolf took a small step forward, feinting a punch to the stomach with his right fist. Instinctively, Thunder lowered his fists to protect his torso just as Wolf's left fist smashed hard into Thunder's nose, breaking it and snapping the young fighter's head back.

Thunder cupped his shattered nose, and stood dazed. He stared at his bloody fingers as blood began streaming out of both nostrils and spattered on to his glistening, heaving chest. Wolf moved forward in a flash and grabbed a handful of Thunder's sweat- soaked mohawk, savagely yanking the muscled teen's head back with his left fist as his right fist again punched the battered nose. Thunder screamed in pain as Wolf drew back his right fist again, but Thunder blindly drove his left fist forward and up, the rippling muscles in his arm sending the fist crashing into Wolf's mouth in an explosion of blood and teeth. The power of the blow lifted the body of the screaming brave backwards and up momentarily before sending him crashing onto the mud floor.

Thunder raised his fists and screamed in victory as the crowd's explosive cheering drowned him out. He lowered his head and looked down on his enemy through a now-tangled mop of bloody, clumped hair. Tensing glistening chest and arm muscles, Thunder walked slowly towards the moaning Wolf.

The injured fighter tried to lift his torso up to a crouching position but failed, collapsing back into the mud. He tried again and succeeded, but before he could rise further, Thunder reached down and grabbed a fistful of Wolf's mud-caked hair and savagely yanked the boy's head up so that Wolf's torso was lifted upright, forcing him to sway unsteadily on his knees and stair blankly at Thunder�s bulging shorts.

Thunder drew back his right hand and slapped Wolf across the cheek, forcing him to attention. Thunder now moved in front of Wolf and slowly lifted his knee to the muscular teen's nose. In a flash, he dropped the knee down and sent it flying upwards, but Wolf anticipated the move, snapping his head to the left as the knee lightly scraped his cheek. In a flash, Wolf's muscular buttocks tensed, his powerful legs launching the young fighter upwards. The muscled chests of the fighters collided, pushing the surprised Thunder backwards. Instantly, Wolf pivoted far back on his left leg as his right foot shot upwards, smashing into Thunder's jaw and flipping the fighter backwards.

The air exploded from his chest in a pained grunt as he crashed limply into the fight pit's floor. As Thunder squirmed slowly in the mud struggling for breath, Wolf walked with muscles tensed over the downed form of his enemy, his bloodied and glistening chest heaving. As Thunder weakly lifted his upper torso off the muddied floor, Wolf lifted his muscled leg over Thunder's chest, thrusting his bare foot downwards and knocking his foe back into the dirt.

Wolf reached down, grabbed a handful of Thunder's muddy mohawk and savagely yanked up his head and upper body. Still holding on to Thunder's mohawk, Wolf grunted with effort as he dragged the squirming young gladiator on his back across the muddy pit's floor to its far wall. After propping Thunder with his back against the wall, Wolf abruptly let go of his grip and slowly walked backwards to the far wall, his eyes locked on Thunder. Slowly, Thunder shook off the pain and rose painfully to his knees. Gripping the wooden wall of the pit, he rose up to his feet, not noticing that Wolf had launched himself from the far wall and was running towards him.

Thunder tensed his muscles, raised his fists and turned to face his enemy in time to see Wolf launch himself into the air with a leap of his muscled legs, feet first. Wolf's feet smashed deep into Thunder's muscled stomach, thrusting the teen backwards. As Thunder's back crashed into the splintering wooden wall of the pit, Wolf's full weight again crushed deep into Thunder's gut.

Wolf fell hard on his back but rolled to the side and leapt to his feet in a crouch, fists raised. Thunder stood seemingly motionless for a second, his body embedded into the wood wall. His eyes glazed, Thunder opened his mouth as if to speak, but produced only two streams of blood that poured down the corners of his mouth. The muscled brave then fell limply forward, arms hanging at his sides, his face and chest crashing into the mud of the floor.

As the arena exploded in frenzied cheering, Wolf, bloodied fists raised, moved slowly and cautiously toward his downed foe. Standing near Thunder, Wolf lightly kicked the bloodied fighter's side for a sign of life. Thunder's muscled back convulsed slightly, sending a startled Wolf back with a short leap, his glistening muscles tensed.

A moaning Thunder stirred, attempting to rise up but collapsing back downward. The arena grew silent and, as Thunder rose to his knees, began stamping their feet in quick unison.

As Thunder lowered quivering arms to the ground to raise himself, Wolf moved quickly forward. In one movement, he dropped to one knee in front of his opponent and, grabbing a fistful of Thunder's mohawk, rapidly snapped the grunting fighter's head up then slammed it down full force on his bony knee, the force of the blow bouncing the bloodied head backward and sending the injured fighter rolling limply onto his back, unconcious.

As the crowd screamed its approval, Wolf, chest heaving, gathered his strength and moved toward Thunder, lowering himself until his muscled legs straddled Thunder's glistening chest. Showing no emotion, Wolf reached up to the long white-and- brown feather tied in Thunder's mud-caked mohawk and yanked it off, ripping a clump of black hair with it. As the crowd's screaming intensified, Wolf pointed the feather's sharp end down and into Thunder's exposed left cheek. Slowly, Wolf sliced a bloody "W" into his enemy's face, then carefully tied the feather into his own muddied hair next to its mate. Wolf then looked disgustedly down at the unrecognizable face of his enemy and, with a loud snort, spit into it and instantly raised his fists and face to the sky with a long victory howl.

His wild, matted hair fell in clumps over his muscled shoulders, back and bloodied chest, giving him the wild appearance of a howling man-beast. As the crowd screamed and stomped on the bleachers, Wolf leapt to his feet.

Walking panther-like towards the lowering rope ladder on the far side of the fight pit, Wolf proudly flipped his glistening mane.