A SUV with the top down moved at high speeds through the I-215 near Las Vegas. Inside of that vehicle was a rather large woman who apparently had a pretty deep skin tan. Her skin was already dark due to her being a Samoan but the complexion was redder than usual. The beach towels, beach chair and umbrella in the back seat probably could tell someone that this person just came back from some fun in the sun. The Wrangler was parked at a hotel parking lot. Out of the vehicle came the woman wearing a yellow and black stripped swim suit, flip flops and a towel wrapped around her waist.
The sound of a cell phone ring tone bearing lyrics from a rather vulgar rap song sounded loudly. The woman reached into the car and retrieved the phone. That woman looked at the phone to see who was calling. She sighed. She engaged in a conversation out loud without considering that others could hear.
“What’s up Uncle Larry?” she asked.
The top of the vehicle was automatically put back into place and she locked the doors. While she talked she headed up a staircase versus taking the elevator. This hotel was huge with twelve floors. Her room was located on the eighth floor. For someone to elect to walk up so many cases of stairs could have revealed who this was. Solo was known for taking the long roads in life in an attempt to remain in perfect shape. Her conversation got a little heated which also showed another part of her personality which was that fiery temper.
“I don’t want to do interviews! I’m just not that kind of person and you know it! If you want someone to just do what you want then you go hire some fool to do it! I am who I am and you can either take it or leave it!” Solo shouted.
Her uncle who doubled as her trainer was trying to get her to expose her skills a little more. Just a week ago she put down one of the best fighters in the Gladius MMA women’s roster. Now some people were saying Solo had the skills to defeat the heavyweight champion. That same champion, Beth Scratters, was already trash talking Solo. Words and threats was not something Solo liked to engage in a lot. She wanted to settle everything in the octagon.
“Well, like I said, I’m not doing it. Not my thing. Never will be my thing,” she said.
Solo hung up the phone. When she got to her room her phone rang again. She turned down the ringer’s volume. She entered the hotel room with the key-card. Solo removed the towel and clothing and went into the shower to get all that sand off of her. While in that shower she sang various songs that her cell phone played through the phone’s music player.
“Punch you in the face! Yah yah! Punch you all in the face! Uh huh!” she sang.
Solo was dancing because she loved that song and loved the artist who made that song. If a fly on the wall was present and wanted to see Solo stop singing that fly would get its wish. She exited the shower, dried herself off and put on some clothes. She found that her blue jeans with various ripping throughout the jeans didn’t fit. Since these jeans were stretchy she used them as a jean version of Capri pants.
Solo looked at herself in the mirror. She looked taller, more muscular and her arms were really long. Solo thought that maybe something was wrong with her. When she went to go to get her phone to try to call her doctor she noticed that she splashed water on the device.
“Aw man! Not another one!” she exclaimed.
The phone was malfunctioning. Even the white shirt with the Gladius MMA emblem on the front of it didn’t fit right. The sleeves of the shirt rode up her arms and looked to fit someone that was three inches smaller. Even her stomach was showing. Solo tore off the sleeves of the shirt. A blue jean jacket that had no sleeves was another clothing choice she put over the shirt. She tried to put on her black boots but they didn’t fit. Since her feet appeared to have gotten bigger throughout the week she did a little shopping and got another pair of boots but the size of those boots was ridiculous to her.
“What in the hell is going on here?” she asked herself.
The boots fit fine. Even her belt couldn’t be secured with the third hole like usual as she had to go all the way to the first hole. Solo put the phone into her purse on the room’s bed. She went to the refrigerator, opened it up and retrieved a leftover sub sandwich she didn’t finish from last night. When Solo closed the refrigerator door she looked over to notice another woman standing there. She backed up and dropped the sandwich. For about ten seconds there was an awkward moment of silence. This intruder was dressed in all black and looked to be somewhat of a ninja in terms of apparel. This person had long black hair, pale skin and red eyes.
“I’m not even going to ask what the blue hell you are doing in my room. I don’t do too much asking. I’m telling you to leave right now or else I’m going to have to remove you,” Solo threatened.
The intruder didn’t move an inch. It was as if the idea of fighting a professional martial artist with size that overshadowed most people either male or female was not that much of a concern. Solo reached out to push this person towards the door. When she reached out the ninja-like intruder grabbed Solo’s wrist, twisted it to the side, pulled the larger woman in close by the arm and sent Solo’s big body flipping over the intruder’s shoulder and onto the back with a Judo styled flip.
While stunned for a few seconds Solo quickly recognized that move. It was called the, Kotegoshi Grip. Whomever this was they had to have some degree of skill to execute such a move without Solo finding a counter quickly enough and flipping over a much larger person at that.
“Congratulations on removing me mademoiselle,” the intruder said.
The French accent put Solo off a little bit. Sure there were people who had sounded like this person that were walking around all the time but typically those people weren’t found breaking into another person’s apartment. Solo looked at the person with an expression that could say, “oh I know she didn’t just try to punk me.”
With legs kicked up in the air the Samoan used the downward motion of leg movement to person a classical martial arts maneuver known as a, kip up. Solo didn’t waste any breath with talking. Her arms went swinging. This intruder dodged every last move. Just a week ago the mixed martial artist fought a person who could dodge as well but not on this level. Wherever this dark haired person received their training or however they acquired such skill level Solo was sure this wasn’t an ordinary individual.
The movement of the two women moved throughout the apartment with Solo tossing the flat screen television at the person and missing the target. She noticed that the intruder appeared to be avoiding the open window with sunlight coming through it. By her estimation this person was avoiding the window so as not to be seen by anyone looking up. The speed of her opponent was a little on the ridiculous side. Even in a real fight Solo was able to put a hit on someone. Yet with this other woman not only were her strikes hitting air but she appeared to be so outclassed in agility and quickness that it didn’t appear to be very fair. She wondered why that intruder didn’t bother launching a counter attack.
Her concern would grow with time in this fight. When she tried to throw a kick, assuming this person wouldn’t be ready for such a strike since all she threw were punches, her intended target executed a picture perfect spinning back-flip and landed on both feed on the ground like a cat.
“Stop moving and let me cave your face in!” Solo shouted.
“Oh, you want me to fight back?”the black haired woman asked.
Another charge was made by the larger woman. This time the intruder fought back. With a move Solo couldn’t believe could actually be done the much more agile person placed a foot on her knee, a foot on a shoulder and then on top of her head. This person did the unreasonable and unrealistic action of using Solo’s body for a surface and walked right over the Samoan and used her head as a jumping platform. The cat-like person landed on their feet behind Solo. The Samoan fell onto the ground face first but turned over into a seated position.
“Sorry. To fight you is to embarrass you. Until you realize what you are you’ll never be able to beat me. No new awakening Solari can beat one of us. Realization is your weapon,” the agile person said.
The person’s ears moved in an unnatural way. They let out a hissing noise when their mouth opened with canine teeth revealed that were very long. Solo gasped. The intruder’s head turned to the now covering Solo.
“My name is Asai. I am here to help you. However we have a little problem,” Asai said.
“Protect me? From what? From yourself? Just what in the hell is with your teeth?” Solo asked.
Asai went to the door and placed an ear against the surface as if this woman was actually listening for something. “I’m afraid your questions will have to be answered later,” Asai said.
The smaller woman walked over to the Samoan and presented a hand to assist Solo in getting back up.
“No thanks. I’m fine,” Solo said.
“Oh, yeah? You’re fine? I take it you don’t understand what you’re facing?” the long toothed woman asked.
“No, I don’t. But one thing I do know I will insist you and your freaky teeth leave now before I call the cops,” Solo insisted.
“They are coming. More than you can handle on your own. The only thing I can tell you is to remember your training. You don’t strike where I am. You strike where I’m going to be. Understand?” Asai asked.
Solo was disturbed. She wasn’t disturbed by the question but more disturbed that she knew the answer. It was almost as if she had heard this before.
“I got it. But who exactly is coming?” Solo asked.
The question was answered by the door being kicked in. A group of men who were similarly dressed like Asai but all wearing masks presented came in and assumed fighting stances. Asai pulled out a face covering and put on what looked to be a black mask.