Over the years things can change dramatically, especially things between two friends. They can grow up with each other, do everything as far as partying, having fun, sneaking cigarettes, chasing girls, and playing games. But after a while everything just falls apart. Funny how it works out that way, but that's just the way it happens. Bitter hatred can form over a time leading to three things, conflict, contact, and combat. It was long ago with the first of these three C's appeared onto the scene sparking the separation between the two friends. Darian didn't fully remember th details of it himself by this point but he did know why they had stopped being so cool and had become enemies.

They had always done everything together, even deciding that they would train together as well. Darian and his friend had both joined the wrestling team at high school at the same time, both of them winning all of their matches and becoming state champions. The two of them took up boxing and a number of other fighting styles with each other, both of them having different strong points between them but evening out in terms of skill. However for some reason the attention was never on Adrian, his friend got every last bit of it. For a while he was happy for his friend, but all that soon stopped.


Contact happened when Darian took the smallest comment as him being talked down to. It was a simple joke, but with so much on his mind he...'overreacted'. It wasn't a pretty exchange of words, but it happened, and not soon after that, the combat began. Skip to the current Darian's stocky form was sitting on a oil barrel in the abandoned factory. A naked girl in the room behind him, she had obviously been ravaged and beaten, but he wanted someones attention. His dark tone of skin glistened with sweat a sign that he was warmed up and ready to fight. One of his groupies came charging in shouting "He's here Dar!" Getting up with a smile he stretched and waited, he was itching to settle this once and for all.

There's an old saying that flies about everywhere; one that says that time heals all wounds. But when your best friend did perhaps one of the most reprehensible things in the world, turning on you and leaving you battered on the streets for absolutely no reason at all, that was when Vincent's mindset began to alter and change. The sad truth of it was, it only got worse and worse from there. The bitter hatred between him and Darian escalated to an even higher degree when he had found out that his girlfriend had gone missing a few nights ago and never returned home.

This caused the gears to start turning in his mind and rather quickly, at that. One thing he began to remember was during their high school days before they had their big fallout was the fact that he was always trying to hit on her even when she said she was seeing him. It all came to a major head that night, one that just about nearly saw the two nearly rip into each other with nothing but pure animosity behind each and every strike, but no. Vincent made a pledge to Darian that if he ever put his hands on his girlfriend ever again, that he was going to hurt him to the point where the only way Darian would get around would be on a stretcher and ultimately on a wheelchair provided if he lived that long.

Rage began to filter through Vincent's mind as he heard a knock on the door one night. Apparently, one of Darian's "new friends" came by to let him know that Darian was waiting for him at an abandoned warehouse tonight at seven-thirty and that he had a special guest there waiting for him. Vincent only had this to say to that groupie.

"I'll be there. You can even say this for me, that once I'm there, I will hurt him. I will fucking cripple him." Vincent growled, his voice low.

7:15 that night, Vincent began to suit up for the event, his mind completely focused on one thing and one thing only. To ensure that he carried out his promise of beating that rat bastard within an inch of his life and then some. Once he was dressed up in a black 3/4 sleeveless tee-shirt over his broad, rippling frame, black track pants at his waist and white sneakers on his feet, he even went so far as to have his hands taped up before shutting the door behind him and left his apartment.

If there was one thing he wasn't going to do, was to get that bastard's blood on his hands.

Darian was getting psyched up for the fight, his face was set in a emotionless stare, emotions building up inside of him. Every muscle inside of his body began to twitch slightly in anticipation for the kill. The predator was ready to pounce upon his prey, though he wasn't going to fight in blue jeans and a jacket. Changing into some navy jogging pants with no shirt he let his chiseled body gleam, it was like the fires of hell were coursing through his veins rather than blood. A pair of black Nike's replaced the boots he had been wearing. Rather than tape Darian used wraps, taking extra care around his wrists.

It was obvious with the way he was wrapping that he intended to throw his punches as hard as possible. Dark brown eyes stared out into space continuously. It was a damned shame that he had to do that to her just to get Vincent's attention, but he did what he had to. There was a tattoo on Darian's chest that read 'No Mercy' and that was exactly what he intended to show to his long time rival. Shadow boxing as his blank eyes continued to stare out into the darkness, he could hear the people gathering in the arena he had set up in the lower level of the warehouse leading into the old subway.


Darian had left instructions for Vincent to be lead down there upon his arrival. This was really gonna get physical once he arrived. The hatred in him was so intense that his eyes began to feel almost on fire. Once he felt warmed up Darian exited the room having Sophia brought down to the arena. She was set up in a place for Vincent and no one else to see in the specially designed ring. Entering the down into the arena, the crowd of violence loving fight fans erupted.


Darian was a favorite for two reasons, his ruthless aggression and his aggressive ruthlessness. Entering into the ring he began lightly dancing around the ring on the balls of his feet over and over again. The mixtures of heavy metal and hard core rap rang through Darian's ears pumping him up even more for the fight. All Darian needed now was for his sheep to enter into the slaughter house.

About fifteen minutes passed before Vincent arrived in the warehouse, not even bothering to introduce himself as he began to walk inside. Once in, he began to hear a cacphony of loud music, raucous cheering and some jeering being fired at him as he began to step inside, looking high and low for the son of a bitch. One light that danced off of him showed Vincent's face briefly, showing a look of raw, focused determination.

There, in the ring, was his victim of the night. He was clearly dressed up and waiting for him to arrive, that much was damn certain. Upon sighting Darian, Vincent began to remove his shirt and casted it off to the side, showcasing his musculature that he had worked extremely hard on to get it the way it was currently. A set of tattoos graced Vincent's tanned frame, one being a pair of Japanese lettering that translated into the words "Man-Monster" that was written very authentically was on his left shoulder was seen first as he began to step into the ring by hopping over the chainlink fencing and landed with his back turned to Darian. On his back was another tattoo, this one showing an elaborate visage of Jesus Christ hanging from a cross that read the words, "Jesus Saves" that ran across his broad upper back in archaic lettering. By the time he finally turned around to see Darian, he only aimed his brown irises that just seemed to spew forth a venomous hatred of his former friend.

One thing Vincent and Darian were known for when he and Darian rolled together was that these two were perhaps the most dominant tandem of heavyweight wrestlers in high school. And while Darian had the aggressiveness and the ruthlessness to get his opponents down and score the pinfall, Vincent had the more methodical approach, waiting to time his moves correctly before launching a highly accurate but voracious assault that would guarantee a victory. In other words, he wanted to see what his opponent was made out of before putting the kibosh through whatever plan they were thinking of. If it was anything that was considered quality, Vincent would respect it and give it 110%. If it was crap, then Vincent wouldn't hesitate to put his opponent away within a few moves.

What cruel irony that these two would be in the ring right now, each one staring across the ring from each other like a pair of hungry lions, both staring each other in the eyes and primed to strike.

Vincent began to stretch himself out accordingly, first shifting his broad weight down onto one knee then the other then rotated his arms in a circle before swinging them out from side to side as he never took his eyes off of Darian with a look of sheer contempt and furious anger as the blood in his veins began to boil over, fueled by the fires of eternal damnation.

Upon sighting Vincent Darian began smiling maniacally, mixed shouts of applaus and boos being shot towards the both of them. This was something that had been looked forward to for a long time. [Flashback] The two of them where just leaving from boxing, smiles on the faces of the two friends, both Darian and Vincent where in shape but no where near to the extent that they where now. A groups of guys had been following them for about two blocks, courtesy of Darian clumsily dropping a knot of 800 dollars that he had gotten for his birthday. When the group approached they where surrounded, but confidant that they would not loose. Vincent had politely asked them to find someone else to rob, but they of course refused, having their sights set on Darian's money clip. There was about 15 of them, but the advantage was on the side of the friends.

When everything was all said and done the friends where sitting on the ground, both with their share of bumps and bruises, but the entire group had been KOed by just two guys. After that Darian ran to the store coming back quickly with two ankle bracelets. One of them read 'we ride together' the other one read 'we die together' and both of them read bffl 'best friends for life.' That's how inseparable they they where. Tales of their skills spread fast and their was no one who wanted a piece of either of them. If Darian and Vincent had walked into a room full of 50 ex cons, murderers, professional fighters and killers, they would have instant respect. That's just how bad assed the two of them where with their skills, everyone knew what they where capable of.

[End flash back] Darian was getting excited, fully psyched up for violence. Right now there was no one else on the planet who mattered to Darian than Vincent. Still with the smile on his face he stepped forward."Tch, I'm surprised you showed up...Damn shame you're that fuckin scared to fight me that I gotta get your attention through Sophia...Oh well... All I know is now I can really kick your ass..." Darian said with a confidant smile. When he stepped forward he revealed the size difference between them. Darian had a shorter, stockier frame than Vincent did. Strangely enough the people he usually fought where 6'8 300 pound monsters, and they never stood a chance. What Darian lacked in actual size, he made up for in pure animalistic ferocity to a berserk extent. This earned Darian his ring name that he'd been known to be called by 'The Madman' Darian did know full and well not to underestimate Vincent, if he did that this match wouldn't last a second, it was time to go all out and hide nothing.


Darian assumed his fighting stance driving the crowd insane as if to signal, 'the fight is on!' Both fighters where obviously ready and the room was filled with the violent emotions racing through the both of them. Darian made the first move as expected by the crowd, charging forward from across the large Gladiator pit like ring. As he neared Vincent, Darian's eye's gleamed with excitement. Jumping into the air it appeared as if he where going for a flying knee kick to Vincent's cranium. At the last second, Darian pulled his right hand back then dropped his knee. Hurling his fist forward Darian was going for a powerful superman punch to the jaw.

Of all the things he began to hear once Vincent was in the ring that was specifically designed for this purpose was the sounds of the crowd going absolutely wild with bloodlust and adrenaline, fully knowing that these two were just seconds away from tearing into each other with nothing but violent intentions on the other's mind. Instead of answering Darian's taunts, Vincent only shook his head before he answered as he stepped closer to him, showcasing the size difference between the two of them. It looked as though Vincent had about a five inch height advantage over Darian and about a 40 pound weight difference as well. But there was one thing Vincent was blatantly aware of. It wasn't the size of the dog in the fight, but it was the size of the fight in the dog one had to be careful for.

"At this rate, you fucking assclown, I could care less. All I wanna do is get this over with and carry out my words. So I hope for your sake that you have an extended prescription of painkillers, because I am going to hurt you, Darian. I am going to cripple you." Vincent answered, his words coming out fluidly as his face remained fixed on Darian's face with microscopic precision.

Vincent remembered that night when they were coming home from a minor league boxing event, both of them telling stories of how they cleaned their opponent's clock in within about five seconds of the other in the first round of their respective matches. In truth, these two had respect wherever they went, garnering first from a few of the La Raza-based gangs from Guadalajara when one of their own each was beaten back to the point where the referee had to stop the match. However, that stopped the moment when 15 other gangsters from another area jumped in, wanting to see if they could pry a money clip that had about 800 dollars worth in the knot. As often as Vincent told them to go somewhere else to rob and even made a snide little comment about the fact that they should be back at their momma's tits, that was when things got ugly. However, the momentum was clearly on Vincent's and Darian's side. After all, they made the mistake of mixing it up with two heavyweight boxers and got their faces broken.

After all was said and done, the two only came out with nothing more than a few bumps, bruises and scrapes and not much else. That would explain the bracelets Darian got for the both of them, indicating their inseparability.

Sadly, this was not the case. Or at least, not anymore.

Vincent watched as Darian was the first to act, watching and waiting for him to make his first (and what he had hoped) and last move... EVER. The moves he saw first was an attempt to drive his knee into his skull, something that he remained perfectly still for as he then caught sight of his knee tucking back then an overhanded fist that was now set to come crashing against his jaw.

It was the opening Vincent needed as he suddenly sprung from his fighting stance and ran right underneath the attempted attack, immediately driving his shoulder into Darian's stomach to take the wind right out of his lungs and dropped him to the floor.

Once down, Vincent was now looking for a submission hold of some type, wildly flailing around to cinch a hold. When it couldn't be found, Vincent flew into a whirling dervish of hellish fury and started raining fists of hellbent anger down on Darian's face.

Darian knew that Vincent was the better grappler but he wouldn't allow any of his limbs to be broken this early. Feeling the wind knocked out of him Darian held his breath. When Vincent grappled him and brought things to the ground, Darian cursed under his breath. "Shit!" He uttered as his back his the ground, slapping his hands against the floor to break his fall, he prevented the back of his head from being smashed in. This was a prime time for him to show off some of his jujitsu skills. Immediately after hitting the ground Darian placed Vincent within his guard. Wrapping his legs around Vincent's torso just above the waist, he didn't want Vincent advancing on him and getting too dominate of a position. Taking in a harsh inhale Darian regained his breath.

Darian knew that he had to respect Vincent's strength especially with their size difference. When Vincent started the ground and pound Darian held his arms up to block most of them, a few getting past his defenses."No. Not that fuckin easy Vin!"Darian said as he reached a hand up to grab one of Vincent's hands to stop the ground and pound. Thinking about trying for a kimura lock Darian decided against it.

Going for a move like that could leave him in a much more vulnerable position than he already was. Darian got an idea and loosened his defense for a brief moment before preforming a reversal to roll on top of Vincent, an amazing feat considering Vincents size and strength. Backing off quickly Darian returned to his feet. Narrowing his eyes he reached up to his lips feeling a small trickle of blood rolling down his chin, spitting at the ground he smiled again." Tch, you still got a little bit of skill I guess."Darian said with a smug grin. Darian wasn't really damaged but Vincent had gotten his point across that he didn't intend to loose, however Darian had no intentions of letting a win go that easily either.

Circling Vincent this time, Darian allowed him ample time to get up.Darian felt as though he needed a new game plan in this fight deciding to go for a different approach, even though Vincent was a better grappler, he'd need to prevent him from grabbing him. Running forward again, Darian kept his guard low, provoking Vincent to attack. Beginning to throw a barrage of overhand rights even Vincent would know how dangerous these strikes could be. If you took one of Darian's overhand rights in the wrong spot, no matter how big you where, you would probably go down pretty hard. Following up with throwing a inside leg kick. Darian's attack power and fury was impressive. Feeling the moment right he raced forward, acting as though he was going for more overhand rights. Cupping his hands behind Vincent's head, Darian began throwing monstrous knee strikes towards his mid section and head, with a calculation and precision reminiscent of UFC middleweight champion Anderson Silva.

Vincent kept up with this vicious barrage of fists being thrown at Darian's head, even after he felt a few of them slam home into their target. Even as he kept this up, Vincent stopped when he felt one of his hands being caught by Darian and nearly got caught in a submission of his own. If there was one other thing Darian was known for, he had quite the extensive submission knowledge as well as the skill to get out of almost any predicament even if he was knocked to the floor by someone who had a bit more mass than he had.

Vincent even went so far as to try to continue the power game, pushing his fist down on Darian to make him feel the amount of tenacity that was surging through his body, even getting the stink of hot breath into his face when Vincent growled loudly. That however, would be short lived as he was then sent across the ring by a carefully timed rollover. At that point, Vincent immediately brought his arms up to guard against whatever kind of heavy bombs he was going to throw at him but instead found himself being able to get back up onto his feet when Darian backed off.

As much as Vincent wanted to go onto the attack again, Vincent decided to wait this one one once again, trying to form a different course of action this time. He had to admit it, Darian had striking potential, but according to Vincent and when it came time to bring the pain, Vincent's animalistic tendancies for the ground and pound game was considered unmatched, even when paired against UFC Heavyweight champ Randy Couture.

Suddenly, just as he was anticipating the overhanded attack, Vincent managed to duck maybe two of them when he was glanced off the side of the head by one of those weird loopy right hands. Following this, he was caught off guard for maybe a few seconds by the inside leg kick, allowing Darian enough time to cinch a clutch hold over Vincent's head.

"UMPH!!!" Vincent sounded when he felt a massive knee lift connect squarely in between Vincent's pectoral region, nearly sapping the strength out of the big man on the first shot. That, however, would be the last time he needed to feel another one of those things when he caught Darian with a single leg hook then once more brought him down to the floor a second time by shoving his head into Darian's chest and stood over him.

From there as he held Darian's foot in his hands, Vincent thought about shifting himself around for an STF hold, But Vincent thought better than that. Why expose your head to your opponent unnecessarily when you got him in your grasp, he thought.

A bit of an idea began to work through Vincent's mind as he continued to hold Darian's foot for a moment then threw it to the floor. Before Darian had enough time to get back up onto his feet, Vincent was on him faster than flies on shit as he suddenly slid over to the arm Darian was using to pick himself off of the floor and quickly tucked it in between his legs then leaned his large body across Darian's back and grabbed at his face with both hands, wrenching his head back with all of his proverbial might while at the same time attempting to rip Darian's shoulder out with his legs.

This, in the wrestling world, was perhaps one of the most heinous moves anyone can use on anyone: The Crippler Crossface, as once executed by deceased WWE Superstar Chris Benoit.

Feeling the first knee strike connect Darian could feel how good of a hit it was, Darian's fighting style was quit similar to two UFC fighters, both of them former light heavyweight champions. Quinton "Rampage" Jackson and the Iceman Chuck Liddell. Both of them renowned strikers known for the power behind each and everyone of their punches, masters of stand up combat. But the grappling game was something that VERY few people probably in the world that could compete with Vincent in, he had a insanely developed upper body and hand ended a few careers by shattering tendons that could just not grow back right. Where Vincent had ended them by submissions Darian had ended a few careers by hitting people so hard that they where legally retarded afterwards.


Launching his foot up for another knee he felt Vincent grab it for the take down. Cursing under his breath again, he knew he should've known better than to try and get him with the clinch. When things went to the ground again, Darian felt himself being pulled into the Crippler Crossface move. A devastatingly painful move made by the Rabid Wolverine himself [[RIP Chris]]. With his arm tucked in between Vincent's legs and the hands wrapped around his face Darian began to why it was called the crippler, that's what it felt like and that's what it could do to you. Feeling as if he was on a medieval style stretcher Darian growled with pain like a pit bull that was being tortured. Feeling the heat on him now, his mind was racing for ways to get out of it and came to few conclusions. Having only one real idea, with his left hand Darian ripped a piece of cloth from his jogging pants.


Bringing the cloth up to his mouth he rolled it up and bit down on it muffled his groans of pain. With a sharp jerk of his upper body Darian dislocated his shoulder, muffling his cry of pain by biting down harder on the rag. Rolling away quickly, he slammed his shoulder against the ground, simultaneously flexing the muscles in his shoulder to pop it back into place. Not wanting to give Vincent anytime to set something else up Darian couldn't help but thing that if this had been a professional fight his reflexes would have caused him to tap out, and that was something he'd never do...Not in a million years would Darian tap. But Vincent was one person who could probably get him to do it. Vincent's knowledge of human anatomy and the location of primary tendons and nerve endings was impeccable. Darian did want to show him that he wasn't the only person that had been working on his wrestling.

Pouncing upon Vincent Darian grabbed his back, hooking his hands around his torso. Shaking Vincent around, Darian was doing two things. One he was doing his best to keep Vincent off balance, and two he was getting a feel for his weight. Darian at the moment only weighed in at about 220, he assumed that Vincent was in between 250 and 270, a pretty big guy. Once he had gotten a feel for his weight, he faked a shoot for Vincent's legs going back to grabbing him by the waist. Throwing his body back in a surprising feat of upper body strength Darian threw Vincent back preforming a German suplex. If his transaction of moves was effective, he'd preform two more of these in a sequence made popular by another deceased wrestler who often clashed with Chris Benoit, Latino Heat Eddy Guerrero's Three Amigos.

Vincent thought he had him right then and there as he kept applying the most vicious of pressure on Darian's neck and shoulder, threatening more and more to rip either his head clean off of his shoulders or to rip his arm off with the amount of pressure he was applying to these two key points. There was another reason as to why Vincent thought about cinching this on him. For one, if you took the arm away from an opponent in which he was doing, you'd sap the effectiveness out of each strike the opponent had with that hand. For two in which why this move was so deadly, was because not only are you applying pressure to the neck, but at the same time, you were also threatening to choke your opponent out if they did not tap out posthaste.

Shockingly and much to his chagrin, Vincent wasn't able to do just that. But he knew for certain that Darian had to make a pretty risky move in order to get back onto a vertical base before he was forced to tap out right here in front of this crowd that was raucously cheering one or the other on. Some were calling for Vincent to break Darian in half while the other half were shout at Darian to get back onto his feet.

That was before they all bore witness to seeing Darian get out of the Crippler Crossface by using a method that was dangerous to most athletes by the same comparison. The sound of a bone popping out of its socket was first heard, getting a disgusted groan of sorts from the crowd and even more winced when they heard the sound of Darian's shoulder popping back into place when he hit the floor.

"You little fucker...!" Vincent roared furiously before suddenly feeling a set of hands grabbing at his waist. That son of a bitch ghosted his way behind him and was shaking him around like a rag doll to keep him off balance! Vincent was now furiously doing everything he could to make sure he couldn't keep a tight grip on him at all costs, no matter how hard he was trying to keep him staggered.

Vincent was definitely a large man and by all rights, he was definitely pegged not just a heavyweight, but a super heavyweight. Being a guy at around 6' 6" tall and weighing in about 320 pounds of muscle was not easy to move around, no matter what kind of strength training you had. But somehow, Darian found enough willpower and enough strength to start lifting him up for what he might have figured to have been a triple German Suplex combination of sorts. Anyone in their right mind when they saw Eddie Guerrero do this (Rest in peace, Latino Heat) had enough sense to get out of it immediately, which was what Vincent was now trying his damnedest to do.

However, he soon found himself lifted up off of his feet and was angled dangerously towards the mat. Just seconds before he connected, Vincent put his hands out to the floor and planted hard on the ground, groaning loudly with the effort before pushing off with his hands and planted back onto his feet, snarling at Darian angrily like a raging bull. Without wasting any time at all, Vincent used every ounce of athleticism and speed his body allowed and literally threw everything he had into an organ-displacing spear. But no, he didn't take him down to the ground this time. Instead, Vincent carried him clear across the ring and drilled Darian backfirst into the cage wall at full speed, screaming violently as he ran. Had that section not been securely fastened, there was a damn good chance that section of wall would be ripped clean off with the amount of force Vincent used. But instead, about 550 pounds of combined body weight caused the section of cage to buckle suddenly, causing a few of the fight fans to back off frightfully out of fear that they would be squished. Yet still, that section hung on, slowly groaning back into place.

From there, Vincent let Darian down onto his feet and proceeded to throw a combination of punches at him, first firing two punches into Darian's abdomen but faked the third, aiming it for his skull this time.

Only when he had lifted Vincent off of the ground had Darian truly been able to discern the difference in their sizes. Darian had assumed that Vincent was about Brock Lesnar's size when infact he was closer to Bob Sapp's size! Vincent's strength garnered more respect as he stopped the first of the three amigos dead in it's tracks. Vincent moved almost like a blur as Darian felt the spear hit him, rattling his liver. Coughing ot in pain he tried his best to stop the charging rhino. Vincent had so much more mass it was almost impossible for Darian to stop him in a manner like this. Vincent was incredibly nimble for such a large man and Darian could only growl back with anger. Darian was a Pit Bull in a fight with a much larger Rottweiler, but the Pit Bull wasn't backing down just yet. Trying his best to push back the two of them where locked in a glaring competition. Though Darian hated to admited this was a pretty bad position for him. If he remembered correctly one of the styles in Vincent's arsenal was Greco Roman.

When he was smashed into the fence Darian let out grunt of pain feeling the steel press into his back on impact. Knowing he needed to get his hands up Darian wasn't moving quick enough to stop the first two punches, both of them hitting dead on. Tucking his elbows in and squaring his shoulders, Darian had a perfectly orthodox fighting form. The last fake was thrown too late as Darian now had his guard up, blocking the strike with his left elbow. Firing back, both Darian and Vincent had hit eachother at about the same time in a beautiful exchange. Stepping off of the gate Darian stood his ground challanging Vincent to a brawl. Rushing forward Darian began throwing punches with all his might, aimed towards Vincent's head and body. Taking an unorthodox stand similar to Chuck Liddell's Darian began throwing combinations of overhands and hooks putting a lot of emotion behind them.

[Flash Back again] During their quarrel's with the La Raza gangs Darian and Vincent never backed down once. It wasn't until guns had been brought into the picture that both Darian and Vincent knew that they had to do something or they could get seriously hurt or worse. The gangs had more than two people and a lot of pull in the streets, they could have actually paid someone to take the duo out. Brainstorming on it both Darian and Vicent had to stop this. Going to the La Raza leaders they pleaded for a chance to make up for any disrespect, desciding that the best way to do that was to make them some money. It was agreed upon and Darian and Vincent had to preform cage fights for them for just one night. At the mere sound of their names the clubs where filled up. This mean't more john's for prostition, more people to buy drugs, and more people drinking. This had put an end to them having to look over their backs for some time and gave them a way to alert everyone to their existence.


The La Raza obviously wanted them to get their asses kicked putting them in an obscene number of fights hoping they'd tire out and be beaten...They had another thing coming. Both Darian and Vincent had a total of 15 matches and one night, seriously overkill, but they'd made an agreement nad stuck to it. They succeeded in making the gangs so much money that they gave them a pass and took all hits off of them. Accomplishing something so amazing further strengthened the bond of freind ship between Darian and Vincent. That night after the fights they partyed with a selection of alcohol and women provided to them for bringing in so much cash flow. This also gave the two a nick name that was rather corner but it stuck. The dynamic duo. [End Flash back]

Vincent growled thunderously when his first two punches connected, feeling much like a young Mike Tyson fighting in his prime at this point. Now that he had Darian up against the ropes figuratively and literally, Vincent wanted to finish this once and for all. More heavy bombs were down starting to come down with violent speed and power, each one getting more and more stronger and more dangerously powerful as time went on, heedless if they were bouncing off of his squared elbows or not. He wanted to make sure he was going to get the full treatment whether he was defending against him or not.

That however, was also cut short the instant he felt a retort in the form of a quick jab that tagged him cleanly in the face. Right flush against his jaw, causing the larger of the two to stagger back a bit while squaring his shoulders rigidly and tucking his forearms in front of his face to defend against the next assault that soon followed. If Vincent remembered correctly, one of Darian's favorite methods was something along the lines of UFC's Bad Boy from Huntington Beach, California, Tito Ortiz in terms of fighting styles, a mix of pit fighting and possibly The Iceman Chuck Liddel's expertise in kickboxing, if he remembered correctly.

But now that he was off the cage wall, Darian made a stand and challenged him to a violent brawl. Vincent kept his guard up, stepping back a little each time one of those fierce hands of his glance off of massive forearms. Each time that Darian missed, Vincent fought back with body hooks, head hooks until finally all hell literally broke loose! At this point, Vincent didn't care what it was that he had to do to officially put this bitter rivalry to rest, whether it be by hook or by crook.

From there the crowd was absolutely beside themselves, their cheers becoming deafening in the warehouse as these two just became a tornado of violence, each one swinging for the fences at an ungodly pace, their punches becoming more and more wild the longer this obscene brawl continued on.

When they began wildy exchanging, it was amazing to see Darian holding his own against Vincent due to the obscene size difference between them. In a professional match they might not have even put these two in the same ring with each other because of that alone. Vincent was really pushing hard, and Darian returned the favor by pushing just as hard as his opponent was. Every single one of Vincent's strikes that hit was severely painful, even to the point of causing one of Darian's eye's to begin to swell along with a number of welts beginning to form on his skin. Darian continued with the pace, pushing his body to it's limit and even past that. Darian was a warrior, and so was Vincent. Most people, trained fighter or otherwise wouldn't have been able to go at it like this for as long as the two where doing. Each of their strikes looked sickeningly painful, this was truly the manner of brawl that could kill someone! It was by an act of God that the two of them where still standing on their feet.

Darian hated to admit it, but whether it was true or not he began to feel like Vincent was receiving less damage than he was. Whether it was true or not he wasn't going to take that chance. Where Vincent was the better grappler, Darian was no doubt ably the better striker. Slowly he began to time Vincent's punches while keeping up his own pace of fighting. Slowly a trickle of blood began to drip down from under Darian's eye, Vincent had managed to cut him. "Fuck!" Darian roared at the top of his lungs, returning fire with two heavy meat seeking missiles towards Vincent's forehead to return the favor. Darian knew that with the size advantage he'd have to play this a bit differently, after all a strikers true skill was only shown when he began to move around. Darian had to admit that he expected Vincent to have gone a bit soft, but just as Darian had gotten stronger, Vincent had obviously been doing his own training as well. Now Darian had to use a striking technique that Vincent had never seen him use before.

Suddenly Darian had stopped taking the punches beginning to bob and weave his head around avoiding Vincent's strikes, probably much to Vincent's frustration. The speed of Darian's movements slowly began to increase as he stepped forward closer to Vincent showing great control and sync of his upper and lower body. Darian's head and shoulders began to move in a figure eight fashion as he was now avoiding all the punches while standing directly in front of Vincent. Using the momentum Darian began throwing smooth well aimed hooks, keeping this motion up as he was avoiding Vincent's punches and attacking at the same time. This was a move created and made famous by a famous and great American fighter, Jack Dempsey. Rolling the upper body to attack and defend at the same time, apply named the 'Dempsey Roll'.

Darian's explosive use of this move caused the battle hungry roars from the crowd to increase a little higher. There where continued mix shouts to Vincent and Darian simultaneously. Within the crowd watching from the second row was a short pudgy man obviously in his 50s watching the fight with great amusement. He was the former manager of both of the fighters. Vincent had long dropped him but Darian had stayed with him. Mr. Charles Hughes. Little did either of the fighters know that he had orchestrated a lot of things between the two of them, escalating it to this point. Why? Why do all bad things happen in this world? For the love of money. Sitting there with a smile he thought about all his lies to Darian, even being able to tap that sweet little Sophia while she was chained up. Everything was in his favor, and those two idiots where the ones out there fight. THis shit was fucking priceless!

Vincent was completely blinded by the fury of the fight, doing virtually everything that he could possibly do to land just one huge shot to the face. Just ONE good shot and that was that! Yet even as he began rolling around him, all it was doing was just make the enraged giant of a man that much more bloodthirstier to land one damn good shot on Darian, no matter how well of a dodger he was. By now, the damage was starting to get after Vincent in the form of swelling on Vincent's cheek and bruising forming around his right eye, affecting his vision progressively. Yet even as this brawl continued, Vincent seemed as if nothing was troubling him whatsoever for he was far too psyched up on his own adrenaline to even noticed.

By then, Vincent soon found himself getting more and more shoved back against the force of each attack that was thrown by Darian. By now, he had to alter his defense until he now had to rethink and calm down long enough to regain his composure. Once he did just this, Vincent began to erect a wall defense against each thrown punch until he was now using the same strategy that another infamous boxer used, namely the Rope-A-Dope strategy used by Muhammad Ali when he was up against Smokin' Joe Frasier in the Thrilla In Manilla fight about thirty or so years ago.

Once he got Darian to believe that he had him up against the ropes, Vincent roared fiercely, sending back a ferocious barrage of lefts, rights, hooks both to the face and body and ultimately reared back on his back foot and stepped forward, throwing his entire 300+ pound body weight into a absolute MONSTER of a haymaker. If Darian could block this, then God Himself must be smiling down upon Darian.

Darian saw that his punches where landing on Vincent, he knew that even Vincent could only take so much punishment like this. Though he only weighed in at 220 Darian's punching power was more like that of a man who weighed 280. It was with sheer momentum and precise control of his hips and shoulders that'd he'd been able to obtain such a horribly strong punch. As he unloaded on Vincent hew watched as his rival became angered by this technique. The more Darian was hitting him the sloppier Vincent become, Darian could tell that he was frustrating him with this technique. Pouring it on even harder he was starting to get inside of Vincent's head. When a fighter began to loose the psyche game portion of a fight, it tended to drastically affect his ability to go at 100% . Darian was fully aware of this. Even more so when Vincent's punches where noticeably becoming less and less effective, there where even a few moments when he appeared to be nothing more than a street brawler.

"That's right bitch...Feel the heat....FEEL THE FUCKIN HEAT!"


Darian said as his barrage continued to land. When Vincent put up his defense and calmed down Darian noticed it immediately. Now that he had calmed Darian knew that he'd come with some sort of technique now, what kind of technique would it be? When Vincent raised his guard up, the pumped up Darian made the mistake of thinking that he could simply just smash through his defenses with quick heavy blows. Punching Vincent now was like punching one of those dolls with a round bottom that you couldn't knock down no matter how hard you hit it, they absorbed all the force thrown at them. As his breaths began to become heavier it clicked in Darian's head. "The Rope-a-Dope! He's trying to tire me out!?" Darian stopped his onslaught just as Vincent was preparing an attack of his own. Swearing continuously as he saw the barrage of punches coming towards him, Darian was unsure of how to react. Before he could get himself ready to deal it was too late, Vincent had already started his attack.

Putting his hands up to guard himself Darian began eating knuckle sandwiches left and right. Grunting with every shot to the body, he at least managed to block most of them to his face. Vincent's punches where beginning to take their toll on Darian. When Vincent landed a combo to his face and head Darian felt rocked, one more from Vincent and this fight would be over, and that's assuming Vincent did pounce on him and beat him to death with ground and pound. When that hay maker from the bowls of hell began to fly towards him Vincent couldn't move, he was so dazed."I want to win...I can't lose now...I can't lose now DAMMIT I WANT TO WIN!" Snapping back to reality, Darian's mind shot towards the weakness of all taller fighters, they had a hard time dealing with people being up close to them right? The crowd grew silent as Vincent through his punch assuming it was over for Darian. At the last moment Darian side stepped Vincent's punch ducking under his guard. Reappearing face to face with Vincent, there was a look of determination in his eyes that hadn't been there for years. Bringing his right up Darian jumped up with it for a jaw breaking uppercut.