A tall dark figured walked through a pitch black night. Long and lean, the figured wasn't clear except for the movement. A rusty door creaked open reluctantly and a ray of dingy yellow light spilled out of the opening. In this weak illumination, the lanky phantom transformed into a young woman in a long coat. She gave a nod, to whomever had let her in, making her reddish-brown Frenchbraid's tail jostle at her back. Her face was swallowed by the shadow of the building in the night. She stepped inside, and the door was slammed behind her. The cheap side of town fell into the usual hum of crying infants, and screaming tenants.

Two hanging lights illuminated the room, yellow tunnels of light trickling down to the soiled cement of the floor. The metallic smell of blood hung in the air; the smell dripped off the walls. A ring, formed by countless carnage starved people. Their faces were all a smudged blur, these dark, randomly dressed watchers parted. The female commanded all of their attentions. Was this frail, hollow cheeked woman the leader of some kind of graphic show? The faces parted with downcast eyes, fear pulling their shoulders to drop.
Her shoulders were something, even from under the long oversized coat, they were calm yet strong. As she walked, her long braid swung like a pendulum in small scale at her back. Pieces of her hair had fallen out, and they curled around her face. Once in the center of the audience, the female's apparent beauty shined. A soft murmur started amongst those standing around her in all directions. All was a blur, as the crowd parted again. Another walked into the center, a male with battle scars that the woman did not have.

His face, if you could call it that, was a Picasso painting come to life. His nose, so deformed it could barely be called anything other then scrap cartilage. Part of his cheek had sunken into his skull, a large scar over it was highlighted by the ray of yellow light falling on his head. He wore a pair of patched jeans, and a stretched wife beater. His biceps looked to have enough power to snap the female in half. Something was happening, just as the male started to size up the woman. Her fingers were working on the buttons of the long black coat.
The dark fabric parted, and her strong, toned abdomen flesh peeked out. She reached to her shoulder, nudging the coat off. It fell to the floor, being forgotten the moment after it left her skin. She stretched her neck from side to side, pumping her arms over her chest and out. A dark brown t-shirt clung to her upper body, while a forgiving pair of shorts lingered low on her hips. The spandex material did all it could to censor her. A hush washed over the spectators.
"Fight!" came a loud booming voice.
The female nodded and widened her stance. The male let out a cracked battle cry and charged at her with his hands poised to take hold. The female's eyes followed his every move, then as he came closer a calm came over her body. The crowd was silent, anxiously waiting. The male came withing inches of the female. She leaned onto her back leg and swung her front leg high into the male's side. He let out a sound similar to an unexpectedly attacked dog. Half of the crowd let out yells and punched their fists into the air.

This is what they'd come to see. The male in the center of the ring stumbled back, clutching his ribs. The female hopped and sent another powerful kick into the male's side. Another scream of pain from the male. The male's gigantic arms supported him as he fell forwards onto his knees. A trickle of dark liquid fell out of his mouth and spotted the cement. The female circled him, all the faces were blurred. She looked to the booming voice, and received no nod, and so she hung back. She waited for him to stand up, or give up.

The crowd went silent with confusion and disappointment, a few voices called out for more. The male stood and wheezed, then charged at the female's body again. In reflex, she caught his shoulders and drove her knee up into his chest. A cough, spraying her shoulder and chest with blood. A loud, roaring cheer from the spectators.
"More blood!" came a loud male scream.
She planted her foot in his chest and kicked him back. He fell back, laying on the floor. She hung back, circling and watching for a signal. None. He turned over, onto his chest and coughed as he pathetically attempted to stand. Somehow he managed this,and this time he aimed to take out her knees. At the last moment he turned and aimed to land a powerful blow to her neck. She dropped to her knees, pivoted, and connected her heel with his hip. She regained her balance while standing, and took the que from the face in the crowd. She took hold of the shirt the male was wearing, and pulling his head and body down onto the cement. By the time he'd grabbed a hold of her calf,the blood began to pool around the back of his head. He closed his eyes, sinking into a murky black sleep. The female backed away from the body and wiped at the blood that speckled her shirt.
"Dead!" came the booming voice, followed by a chorus of cheers.
Two unimportant figures ran up, then left dragging the body behind them by it's arms. The blood was smeared and trailed off in their direction. The crowd threw things into the ring, mostly coins and crumpled bills littered the cement. The female picked up the black coat and slipped it on. Her fingers pushed the buttons into place, then brushed away a speck of dark brown on her cheek. A rose thrown into the ring was stepped over it as she walked to the opening in the circle that presented itself as she approached.

The eyes watched her leave, then turned to the next fighter that had appeared in the middle of the ring. The dark female figure stood in front of the rusted door, received an envelope, and exited the ray of yellow light. She stepped out onto the street, and the door slammed behind her. Some eight blocks away, another such door opened to receive her.

"Dove's wing," came a soft velvety voice.
The door slammed behind her.
The night went on like this, the city slept uneasily. On her way out, she'd heard of another new gathering for fights. They were popping up all over the cheap side, there was money to be made. Even if you robbed someone coming out, after all, these were the places the numb rich came for fun. It wasn't far, this new location. She found it easily enough, she already knew what she was looking for.

She knocked, no answer.
She knocked again, the door practically fell in. The voices from inside were young, she could hear the youth. She melted into the circular ring she knew so well. Two boys, no older then nineteen were circling each other. Once charged the other and knocked him to the ground, the crowd of hardened teens cheered. She rolled her eyes. After a few broken bones, one gave in. They called for next fighters.

Several made their way to the front, closer to the center. She did as well, though not with the same intentions. Something of this place intrigued her enough to show interest. Many of the males turned to her, taking notice as she passed them. Their young bodies responding to her, out of their control.

She watched a few of the young males be turned down, one specifically caught her attention. They went off dejected, the others, while this one stayed to watch the fight. She turned, not interested anymore. The boy she'd been watching had faded into the crowd. She went towards the door, pushing a few of the males aside that stood in her way.

Outside the door, a few young boys were causing trouble for the person supposedly watching the door.
"eh, get the fuck outta here," he repeated as he shoved the boys back.

She watched them as she walked out, how they carried on.
"I'm a fighter dammit!" the one yelled.
"You ain't no fighter kid, get the fuck out," an older teen shoved them back and slammed the door.
"The fuck are you kids doing?" came that velvet voice again.
They all looked at each other, their hearts beating fast. One stepped up and forwards. He sized her up from beneath his red bangs, then looked back for some kind of reassurance. They were just boys, save for the older one that stood back in annoyance. Before the red haired boy could speak, the older of the group opened his mouth.
"What's it to ya?" he asked, his voice still high pitched.

"You don't ask the questions kid, go home. You think you're tough, but in reality you're just little boys playing a game you're not ready for," she continued walking, bored with the interaction.
The others looked at each other, unsure what they were going to do. Like children, they shrugged it off, disheartened they went home. All of them, except the older one. He waited, then walked after the woman. He followed her for a while, until she stopped. They were heading towards uptown. That part of the city was for The Rich.
In a limbo between The Rich and The Poor, the heights sat in half ruin. Being raised on the cheap side, this place looked good. A hotel was the point at which the boy stopped following the woman. He told himself he just wanted to see where she was going. He turned and faded off into the early morning fog.
"Good morning Miss," came the robotic greeting from the man at the front desk.
She stepped into the elevator, the doors slowly closed.

"A chick?" came a hardened voice.
"Yeah," came the almost feminine voice.

"She's gotta be...," the harsh voice trailed off in thought.
"Long braid, black coat," the young voice baited.
The gruff voice laughed,"...that'd be Isis."
"Isis," the young voice repeated the name.
"She makes her rounds at the expert level kid," the voice broke the pause,"stay away from her."
A boy of about sixteen leaned against the doorway of the hotel. His lean build curved in bad posture as he waited. A simple t-shirt and worn jeans served for his attire. His messy black hair was falling into his eyes and brushing his nose. He was a bit short, though his long limbs suggested this wouldn't always be. He'd been watching the door for an hour, and hadn't seen her come out. He swallowed hard.
"She, probably already left," he didn't want to leave,"maybe I should just..."
He walked inside nervously, looking around with his hands in his pockets. He changed his mind, turned and walked right back out. Just after he turned, the elevator's doors chimed and popped open. He exited the front doors and leaned up against the building again, just about to leave. She walked out, caught sight of him and walked over to him. He was frozen to the spot, his heart raced and yet he managed a calm expression. Her expression was blank, her tone was bland.

"You again?" she stared right into him.
"I...ah wanted to," he stammered trying to come up with something as he moved his hair out of his eyes.
He fell silent as he looked down, unable to keep up her gaze. He blushed and kept a determined look on his face as he looked down.
"Hm?" she watched him closely,"...oh don't tell me, You like me."
His eyes shot over to hers as she nodded, he blushed harder. She leaned down, causing him to back up against the wall. He never remembered his heart beating faster. She leaned back to a straight position and turned.
"You really are a stupid kid," she said as she went to go back inside for something.

He reached for her arm and gripped it firmly. He blinked at himself and his heart rate jumped again.
"No I'm not..." he fell silent as she grabbed him.
With the door already open, she pulled him inside and threw him against the wall softly. She pinned his hands up over his head and lowered her face to his.
"What do you want?" she stared at his eyes staring back to hers.
He blushed hard and swallowed, his eyes falling to her lips. The boy tried to yank out of her grip, then relaxed and let his eyes stare into hers. Shimmering emeralds, like jewels. He could feel all the tension drain out of his body, all the strength. She blinked at him. He flinched as she slowly closed the distance between his lips and hers. His eyes, after widening from shock, closed. Her eyes watched him. Her lips parted from his, and she pulled away. She released him and he fell against the wall.
"Wha...I..," he stammered confused.
She walked out and into the early evening. He blinked and touched his fingers to his lips, still in awe of what had just happened. He was still shaking as he ran outside to look for her. She wasn't in sight. He swallowed again, going on his way.