Arena Mode by Blake Northcott Read Free Book Online Page A

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    There was no way to ensure my armor would stand up to the punishment that a dozen superhumans were capable of dishing out, but I wouldn’t have to wait long to test it out.
    That night I met with Gavin and Peyton at Excelsior. Suited up, I stared at myself in a full length mirror, and for the first time in forever I cracked a smile. A real smile ... despite my circumstances I was actually happy. It was my childhood fantasy coming true, like I’d leaped from the page of a comic book and was prepared for an epic adventure. I couldn’t fly or shoot plasma bolts from my palms, so I wasn’t exactly Iron Man ... but I felt damn close.
    “Check you out, Mox. You look like you’re ready to win this thing.” Gavin stood behind me and ran his hand over the left shoulder plate, admiring the craftsmanship.
    I placed my fists on my hips and struck a heroic pose. “You know what they say: clothes make the man. Think I’ll intimidate any of the competition with my new suit?”
    “Hey,” Peyton shouted from the front of the store. “Get over here, the Chronicle is about to announce some new competitors.”
    Gavin and I raced to the living room and joined her on the couch, and she turned up the volume on the Trinitron.
    “Good evening,” a young reporter greeted the audience, addressing the camera with her most official-sounding voice. “We interrupt your regular programming to bring you this breaking news. I’m here in Phoenix, Arizona at the scene of a shocking crime, which has left one man dead and five injured.”
    “One guy dead and five injured?” Gavin rolled his eyes. “Just another day in paradise. How is this even news?”
    Peyton shushed her brother and slapped him across the leg. “If you shut your face for a second maybe they’ll tell us.”
    “An hour ago,” the reporter continued, “a local construction worker by the name of Dwayne Lewis was assaulted here at the Thirsty Cactus Bar.” She turned and motioned behind her, and the camera zoomed to capture the destruction: a rustic tavern that had been smashed to pieces. It looked as if it was torn apart by a violent tornado, reducing the entire structure to a pile of kindling. A photo appeared on-screen of an impossibly muscular man: a familiar bearded giant with dark skin and a large tribal tattoo that coiled down his right arm. His trademark dreadlocks were tied behind his head, with wild tendrils flowing in every direction. “Lewis, a former NFL hopeful, is best known for being one of the few superhumans in the world to live openly. Several years ago he began to grow, expanding in mass and height – he recently made it into the Guinness Book of World Records as being the tallest person in recorded history at nine feet, two inches tall.”
    Everyone knew Dwayne Lewis. He was legendary for his strength; there are clips on the internet of him lifting everything from boulders to bulldozers, scooping them off the ground with terrifying ease. Lewis was drafted to the National Football League out of college, but was unable to play due to his superhuman status.
    A picture of a pudgy man with a thick moustache and long, unwashed hair appeared on the screen, dressed in a green body suit. The image was almost comical, the way he was dramatically posed with a stern look on his face, wielding an oversized gold trident. “The attack took place when Morgan Pittman, a thirty-three year old insurance salesman from Pittsburgh, travelled to Phoenix – to this very bar – just a mile from Lewis’ home. Pittman mounted a surprise attack on Lewis, apparently with the hopes of attracting mainstream attention and gaining entry into the upcoming Arena Mode tournament.”
    “Why the heck is that guy holding a giant fork?” Peyton asked.
    “Shh,” Gavin playful smacked his sister’s knee.
    The camera cut back to the reporter, who was wading through the wreckage, pushing aside overturned stools and tables. She stopped and motioned towards a large jagged opening in