Challenging Victory........

Newt woke up to two women shouting.

His first thought was Sharina's mother had come over for a surprise visit and had seen him on the couch, leading the mother to question her daughter about her poor men selection choices. But when he saw the ripped sofas and upturned, broken tables, he knew it was something other than a raging mother. He was more amused at how tired he was than the mess the female banshees had made around him. Despite everything, he didn't wake up once to witness the senseless carnage surrounding him.

"Sharina!" he yelled, hoping he would be heard over her and whoever else was in the houses' ongoing argument. Of course, he went unheard and the two went on with their maddening squabble.

Newt stood up and headed to the small hallway that led to the stairs. "Sharina," he tried once more, but whoever she was with downstairs had completely engulfed her in their dispute.

"Fuck's sake," Newt swore, hopping down the stairs."They'll bring the house down with this noise."

"I would very much expect it from her," Poseidon remarked.

"From Sharina?"

"From Nike."

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, which revealed a much larger room with a massive bookshelf and cabinet leading up to a pale grey door, Newt halted his movement.

"Nike the brand? Or Nike the goddess?"

"What do you think? Mortal fool."

"Why is she here?"

"To lend you her aid most likely. Victory was always at Zeus' side," Poseidon hinted. "Hopefully she does not request a favor."

Grumbling incoherently, Newt marched through the door and into an overdone parlor. Although well aware of the kind of house he was in, he wasn't expecting to find a massive glass chandelier suspended over a round, smooth grey marble table with three transparent chairs placed around it. To his far left, three long couches formed a U-shape in front of a large curved television perched atop yet another piece of glass furniture in the place of a two-layered television stand. In the middle was a huge red rug that looked reasonably clean for an old-looking house.

On his right, a door led into what he assumed was the kitchen, leaving massive pockets of useless space scattered around. Taking in the sheer size of the room once more, Newt heaved a breath of wonder and headed towards the kitchen, where the shouting was originating from.

Pushing open the door, Newt wished he had just gone right back to sleep on the couch. Taking away the infuriating duo that was screaming their heads off, he found the kitchen rather nice and not as oppressing as the rest of the house. It was simply a plain electric cooker with an oven underneath, beside a marble counter that held the sink and a couple of other utensils. At the opposite end of the room was another door that most likely led to the pantry.

The center of the room held another round marble table, only instead of glass chairs, two long swivel stools rested on either side. On top of the stools, were Sharina and a golden-haired woman dressed in a motorcycle jacket and black leather jeans. She wore massive boots that matched the color of the black table. Her long hair was packed into a neat ponytail, making it easy for her to swing it over her shoulder and out of her way. The woman who was supposedly the goddess of victory looked like an eighteen-year-old biker.

An eighteen-year-old biker hunched over a monopoly board, screaming accusations at her opponent.

"Newt!" Sharina's head shot up as he walked in. "Come be the banker."

"No," the goddess snapped. "You want your friend to help you carry on with your cheating ways? I will not have it."

"For the last time, I didn't cheat!" Sharina screamed in her face. "You're just salty because I'm whooping your victorious ass."

"Cease your yammering and roll the stupid dice," Nike growled, slamming a fist on the table. "When I win, I'll be sure to savor the taste of my victory with your tears."

"Beat me first, assclown."

Mouth open, Newt stared on at the two as Sharina tossed the dice across the board. It was unexpected to see Sharina this riled up, but between the three hosts, he would've imagined Sharina exactly like this in her moments of..... over excitement.

"That is not the only reason," Poseidon gave a small laugh. "This is her power."

"Guessed as much," Newt mumbled. "This isn't exactly unnatural, but it's definitely over the top."

"That's what Nike is all about! All out battles to attain a clear victor!"

"Monopoly made a fine choice," Newt muttered. "I should stop them before they strangle each other to death."

Met by no response from Poseidon, Newt walked over to the table and slammed both hands down, drawing their attention immediately.

"Newt, we're not done," Sharina said with a low voice, but with an underlying menacing tone.

"Yes boy," Nike agreed. "Step aside before I gouge your eyes out."

Standing firm, Newt ignored the threat and looked the duo in the eye. "Jack could be in danger and you're here playing Monopoly?"

"It's just our third game," Nike justified. "I won the first, she won the second, so we called best of three."

"Three games and you couldn't wake me up?" he faced Sharina. "What happened to 'help Jack in the morning'?"

Sharina glanced over at Nike. "You looked too peaceful to disturb. Besides, this is for Jack. Winner gets a request off the loser."

"And I shall make you go bankrupt! Total Victory shall be mine!"

Exasperated, Newt took his hands off the marble table. "You were stupid enough to take Victory itself head-on?"

"When I win, I'd deserve the title more than she will," the host of death bragged.

"You're letting her get to your head." Newt shook his head. "We can't waste any more time, Sharina."

"She swore on my mother to honor the outcome of this game, boy," Nike grunted. "Leaving now would procure grave consequences."

Newt cupped his head into his palms, suppressing his building frustration. "You swore on Styx?"

"What's so special about that?"

"Breaking the oath would bring a penalty even the gods feared," Newt grabbed her plain black tee-shirt and yanked her closer to him. "If you lose, whatever she says goes. For fucks sake Sharina." Releasing her, he backed up to the counter beside the electric cooker and lifted himself to it, taking a seat. "Next time a god pays us a visit and proposes an offer with an oath involved, please wake me up."

"You're being overdramatic," Sharina said, clutching the dice in one palm. "I've already beaten her once. I can do it again."

"And if you lose?"

Sharina remained silent and tossed the dice down, leaving Newt to wonder how he met such rash and irrational people.