Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign - By Phillip Jones Page 0,16

had them, I’d give them to you.”

“Bummer,” Sam replied, looking up. As he squinted to bring his surroundings into clarity, he questioned the woman in waves. “What is this place? Where are we? Who are you, and how long have we been here?”

“How should I know? I just woke up.” After a moment, she continued, “My name is Shalee.”

“Got a last name, Shalee?” Sam responded without hesitation.

“Adamson,” she answered, somewhat annoyed at his brashness.

“Nice to meet you. It seems we’ve found ourselves in a bit of a pickle, don’t you think?” Sam continued to scan the room, his brilliant mind looking for answers.

The fighter’s pain eased as he moved his neck to look around. “You’ve got to love a good puzzle. Hopefully, I’ll be able to see all the pieces soon,” he added with a slight smile that Shalee still could not see. “Where’s your accent from?”

Shalee relaxed a bit. “Why Texas, of course. Any red-blooded American knows us Texans have the sweetness of apple pie in our voices. But my daddy messed it up a bit. You know how those people from Arkansas talk, all woodsy like.”

Sam chuckled. “Well I hope you brought enough pie for me.”

George rolled his eyes. You’ve got to be kidding me. What a stupid line. Put the snake away, big boy.

Deciding the two were not a threat, George piped in. “We’re in some kind of hall, Casanova!” He made sure his voice was strong to ensure he struck a nerve or two.

With her back to this new voice, Shalee shrieked and rushed to take a seat on the altar at Sam’s side. To her, Sam seemed to be less threatening at the moment, which was ironic, since out of the two men in the room, Sam was the only one who understood the mechanics of how to break someone’s neck.

“Who’s there?” Sam demanded. “Show yourself!”

“Hell, man, no one’s hiding! I’m right here. It’s not my fault your damn eyes can’t see me yet!”

George stood, walked toward them and hopped onto the opposing altar. “I’ve been sitting here the whole time. I’ve just been awake longer than you.” He crossed his legs. “If anyone’s interested, my name is George Nailer.”

George noticed Sam had on some sort of fighting gloves and a pair of trunks. There was also heavy tape around his ankles. Hmmm. Why is he dressed that way?

The manipulator continued, “I didn’t want to say anything until I knew you guys were cool. It looks like we’re all clueless. I wish I knew how I got here.”

Sam replied, “Me, too. Do you remember anything at all?”

George nodded. “Ummm, yeah ... I was driving with this chick. Her eyes turned red, it got really cold, and I saw her teeth turn into these crazy, sharp fangs. Then I passed out … and I wasn’t even drinking.”

Sam reached up and scratched the top of his head. “This is going to sound strange, but something similar happened to me. Well … the red eyes and the sharp teeth anyway.”

“What do you mean?” George questioned.

Sam took a deep breath and removed his gloves. “Well, I was in a fight … my first professional fight as a matter of fact. Anyway, after winning, the announcer questioned me. When I looked into his eyes, they were glowing. I felt helpless, and I couldn’t move. The next thing I knew, his eyes were normal, and so was his smile. I finished answering his questions, and I remember the crowd cheering. When I left the cage, I looked back at the announcer. All of a sudden, his eyes turned red again.”

“I hate to admit it, but I was scared. It was a fear like I’ve never felt before. I ran to my locker room, and I remember lying down. I don’t know why, but I felt overwhelmed. That’s when the cold consumed me, and the laughter started. That’s the last thing I remember.”

Sam crossed his arms and rubbed away the goose bumps. “For some reason, I felt like I’ve heard that laugh before … but I don’t know where or when.”

“If the laugh was anything like I heard, I can’t imagine something so nasty feeling familiar,” George replied. “Are you sure you heard it before?”

Sam jumped to his feet. “I’m pretty sure.” He reached up and touched his brow. “Huh ... the cut above my eye is gone.”

“What cut?” George queried.

Sam mumbled to himself. “I think I was cut. I had to be.” After a bit, Sam shook off the confusion and