Rise of the Jinn by William Turnage

Author:William Turnage
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy magic adventure, fantasy action adventure, contemporary fantasy magic, paranormal fantasy books, fantasy books for teens, fantasy books for young adults, fantasy books for adults
Publisher: Will Turnage
Published: 2017-07-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Two

Breaking out of the dust cloud and thundering across the stadium floor at breakneck speed was a monstrous ape-like creature. Its muscular body was covered in black fur, and its long arms swung by its side like thick hairy clubs. It slowed to a jog as it approached, furrowing its thick brow as it surveyed the scene with coal-black eyes.

Was it a... a Sasquatch?

This Max Butterfield’s fighting name wasn’t just a nickname. He was indeed Bigfoot.

The beast neared Mitchell, towering over him, then put his gigantic arms on his hips and focused on the cage.

“Really? Is this all you’ve got for me today, Dagamon?” Bigfoot Butterfield bellowed. “TKO in one move.”

“Start the clock!” Roidy McToodles yelled.

Mitchell’s eyes were wide with fear. He circled Bigfoot Butterfield cautiously as the Sasquatch simply stood eyeing him, hairy chest rising and lowering in anticipation. When Mitchell got behind the beast, he swallowed heavily, gathering his courage, and then he jumped. His arms were wide, going for Bigfoot Butterfield’s neck.

Bigfoot didn’t even turn. He simply back-fisted Candidate Mitchell, hitting him in the jaw with his giant clawed hand. The blow knocked the recruit back about ten feet in the air before he landed with a thud in a cloud of dust. Mitchell lay stiff and unmoving.

“One,” growled Bigfoot Butterfield.

The crowd roared.

Dagamon shook his head as he checked his watch. “Twenty seconds in the ring with Bigfoot Butterfield is the minimum requirement for moving on at this point in our training. Candidate Mitchell lasted only five. I’m sorry, son, but you’re going home.”

Dagamon looked at the still-unmoving Mitchell.

“Someone attend to Mitchell, please!” Roidy McToodles yelled.

“So, which of you gosh-darn recruits is next?”

Dagamon studied the group as he brushed lint off his zip-up cardigan. No one volunteered. A team of three medics dressed in white emerged from the sides of the stadium, put Mitchell on a stretcher, and carried him off the field.

“If you’re thinking Bigfoot Butterfield is going to be tired later on, you’re sorely mistaken,” Roidy McToodles said. “In fact, it takes him a few fights just to warm up.”

Clover didn’t think any of them had a chance of doing much better than Mitchell against a giant Sasquatch. She knew that she and Morgana, neither of whom had any training at all, would be laughed at—after they received broken bones and a concussion, of course.

Finally one woman raised her hand. She brought her lips together tightly, showing determination, and took a deep breath as she stepped forward.

“There we go, Candidate Garcia. Show ’em how it’s done,” Roidy McToodles said.

Garcia opened the cage door and walked out to face Bigfoot Butterfield.

“And now... ” Roidy McToodles’s voice boomed over the speakers once again.

Dagamon shook his head, indicating there was no need for more fanfare.

Garcia was in fantastic condition. Her arms rippled with muscles through her tight green tank top, and she walked with the precision of a dancer. She sauntered to within about twenty feet of Bigfoot Butterfield, dropped to her knees, and bowed to him in formal martial-arts style.

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