Snippet #2199973

"....and the winner, by knockout, is your World Heavyweight Champion, Zachary Ackers!"

Thousands of cheers once again filled the air of the huge building that a title-fight had taken place. Aside from the screams of fans, Zach's arm was raised into the air as well, his signature smirk found on his lips, as always, as he gazed around the audience. So lively they were, so happy and ecstatic that their champion was still undefeated. Were they ever expecting a different outcome?

Zachary gave his usual post-fight greeting to the loser as he finally became able to support himself without assistance. It was a friendly handshake, followed by a 'good fight' and some palling around. Zachary wasn't a sore winner, and always remained friendly after a fight. It wasn't anything personal, it was just them doing their job and their passion, nothing else. How could you hate someone for that?

The champion didn't stick around for much longer than needed. He disappeared into his vehicle and drove away from all the fans, the media and everyone else, only wanting to see one person. The thought of seeing his little sister brought up a warm, welcomed feeling in him, but also a less than pleasant one as well. It hurt just as much as it pleased him to see her.

Zachary parked his car, retrieved his keys and entered his residence in a hurry, not paying much attention to the luxurious place he called home. It was a bigger place, the walls littered with exotic paintings that he didn't really care for, the floor had some form of expensive rug on it, and anyone could tell that it was something no unwealthy citizen could afford. Zach didn't personally decorate the house, he simply went with whatever he was told would look good. But all this stuff had gotten asthetically boring quite a while ago, and seeing his sister was more enjoyable than staring in awe at his own residence.

He passed through the doors and continued up the staircase that laid to the side of the living room, heading straight up them, though not at a horrible sprint. He had slown down by now. Once he had ascended the steps, he took a familiar left and a few steps later, a right, followed by opening the door before his face.

He was greeted by the brightest of smiles.

"Zachary!" came a squeal of excitement. "You won again, just like you promised!"

The man took a seat next to the brown-haired girl's bed, smiling at her before speaking. "Do I ever break promises? I told you your big bro has got this, didn't I?"

"Yeah! But did you get hurt?"

"Pfft! What? No~ho. A little kick like that?" he chuckled a bit nervously. "Nah, I didn't feel a thing!"

Claire deadpanned almost immediately, dropping her smile. "The announcers said you were 'rocked'."

The nervous chuckled slowed to a stop before Ackers spoke again. "Uh.... don't listen to them. They don't know what they were saying."

"....right." she sighed, but smiled again, much to Zach's pleasure. "I'm glad you're alright though." she giggled.

.....
.....
.....

"Huh?" as the life returned to Zach, he found himself in unfamiliar territory. Underneath him was green grass, not white tile. Above him sat the blue sky, obscurred by tress instead of any form of ceiling. The song of the rainforest was audible in comparison of his rather quiet abode. Zachary wasn't a detective, but it didn't take one to deduce that he wasn't in his home anymore. More than anything, he worried:

Did I lose a fight?