As some of you already know this was already up, but I took it down to make some changes and fix some is just a little something something. I've been watching this MMA show called Kingdom starring Frank Grillo and it's amazing, I really like it a lot. That show was my inspiration for writing whatever this is. I don't know what this will be, but I hope you enjoy!

He dropped the weights on each side of his feet and stared at his reflection through the full length mirror. He bent over in exhaustion with his hands on both his brace covered knees. He was breathing heavy but felt as if he was thirty years younger. Veins were bulging from his body as his heart nearly pounded through his chest, but somehow he was amped. He was drenched in sweat. He watched as the sweat gushed down his entire body starting from his head all the way down to his legs and onto the mat. What he saw in the mirror was a corpse standing before him. He, himself was the true meaning of the walking dead. His once young and fresh body was now battered and beaten up, worn down and washed up.

Throughout the years he slimmed down some but still had that muscular body most men his age wished they had. On a regular basis people called him a unicorn and asked how he managed to look the same as if no time had passed for him at all. If only they knew. If only they knew how much looks were deceiving. If only they knew pills, needles, bandages, braces, eating healthy, working out, will power, and heart kept him together. The somewhat faded ink engraved in his chest, arms, and back was proof of that. The scars, the battle scars, the scars he got from fighting wars inside and outside of the cage, those scars that found their way onto his flesh was proof of that. The little gray hairs that stood out of the scruff on his face, the aching muscles in his body, and the pills he popped to relieve the pain was proof that he wasn't as young as spring time anymore.

Most of all the memories that he had consuming his mind, he tried to erase whether they were good or bad, he wanted to forget them. They were like one big nightmare he had one night and was never able to get over. Majority of those memories were painful to keep inside his head and all he wanted to do was push them out of it. Strangely enough that's what kept him going, those bad memories, because he wanted a fresh start, a new start even if he was fifty years old. He made so many mistakes in his past and he wanted a chance to start over. Things around him changed. Some of the people around him changed, but he always stayed the same. His love, passion, and desire to fight was still burning strongly in his heart just like the day he was first introduced to MMA. Although he retired a decade ago, he was still involved in fighting.

He used the money he didn't piss away when he was in his prime to build his own gym, Navy Street (St.). His gym was what he liked to call his kingdom and he was the king. Of course he didn't self declare himself king. He was a legend from when he was just in his twenties and back then he was called the king. That nickname still stuck with him and often times people bowed down to the king. He was a mixed martial arts legend even though MMA was not a big deal back then. He barely got half of the fame, fortune, and glory that guys nowadays did, but that changed as MMA became more popular. Of course he was known internationally, but in the streets of Venice was where people really bowed down to the king. He was not a force to be reckoned with. People knew not to fuck with royalty and if they didn't, he quickly acquainted himself within a matter of minutes if knew not to fuck with the king or his two princes. His sons were his life even if they didn't know it. He knew he wasn't the world's greatest dad but his boys were his everything along with mixed martial arts, and his gym. Those three things were all that mattered to him. It didn't matter that his oldest son was a fuck up while the younger one was disconnected with society outside of the MMA world, he still loved them, although he never really shown it.

As he continued to stare at himself in the mirror, memories of his golden days flooded his head. A smirk crept its way onto his face as he inspected his tattoos. "No Mercy" was written on his left forearm in large cursive letters and "King" was written on his right forearm in the same style and font. On his outer right bicep was a large skull with flames and on his outer left bicep was a large cross. His chest and back were different stories though. His entire back was covered with the image of a ferocious lion with a crown hanging lopsidedly on its head climbing a mountain, which lead to the front of his body. Both of his pectoral muscles had the appearance of the lion's paws coming out of his chest. The lion's right paw, unlike the left, had its paw clawing down his right side, so that four claw scratches went to his ribs.

The lion tattoo took years to complete and was technically his second tattoo. He decided to get it after his other nickname given to him by his then wife, now estranged wife, compared him to a lion. She often said that he had the eyes (look), heart, roar, hell even the body of a lion, which was true and for that written on the lion's claw above his heart was the name "Olivia" his first and possibly only love. He was her lion.

When he wasn't fighting he felt like a caged animal at a zoo, but when he got in the actual cage he showed no mercy. He was most intimidating when he began to pick up momentum because he yelled. It wasn't a regular yell, it didn't even sound like a yell. It sounded more like a roar, like how a lion the king roared, the other man mostly likely shitted his pants while everyone else knew it was over. The inner beast inside of him would awaken and be released right on the spot. Punches and kicks would be thrown so quickly and with so much power his opponent would be forced to throw in the towel. It was rare that he lost. He only lost to himself when he was destructive and reckless to his body. Other than that it was unheard of for any man to beat the Fitz Grant on his best day when he was a full 100%. When it was him completely present and sober, his opponent had no chance of beating him.

Fitz to this day was known as the greatest MMA fighter to ever step foot in a cage. But like every great fighter he had a weakness, which ended up being his downfall.

"Fuck." Fitz muttered to himself as he jogged along the roads of Venice.

He was panting heavily with each stride. Just as he turned to jog on another block, a car blasting music, quickly pulled out in front him, nearly running into him. Fitz banged his hand on the trunk of the all black 1999 Cadillac DeVille.

"Whoa, whoa watch where you're going motherfucker!" Fitz called out to the guys in the car as they slowed down.

"Fuck you dude." The guy on the passenger side yelled back.

"No, fuck you." Fitz gave them the finger.

The Cadillac came to a complete stop before two guys stepped out of it. One was holding a gun, while the other was unarmed. They slowly stalk towards him trying to intimidate him.

"Come on man. Are you kidding me?" Fitz said to the two guys when he saw not only was he outnumbered but was without a weapon. "Really?"

The guys looked at each other but didn't say anything. Fitz knew that was their way of communicating without having to actually speak to one another. However, Fitz was much quicker than the two men standing in front and made the first move. As soon as they were close enough, Fitz grabbed the guy's, on his left that was holding the gun, arm and head butted him. He then locked arms with the other guy that attempted to throw a punch, and punched him three times in the side before kneeing him in his stomach and punching him the face. He then turned his attention back to the guy who now lost his gun and was attempting to get up. Fitz kicked him in the face, ruining any chance he had of getting up at the moment. Fitz stared at both men before turning around and finishing his jog.

After going back to his house to take a quick shower and change into fresh clothes, FItz headed to his gym on his Harley. He walked into his gym and was immediately greeted by Lauren, who worked the front desk.

"Hey coach." One of the fighters, said as Fitz entered the gym portion of the building, where all the work was being done.

"Hey kid, what's up?"

"Nothing much coach just getting this lightwork in."

"You know what I always say…" Fitz trailed off waiting for the other man to fill in the blank.

"Choke em' if they can't take a punch." He said confidently.

"Atta boy." Fitz' attention is captured when another fighter in the cage got punched in the head so hard, Fitz was positive he lost some sense."See, see what just happened motherfucker? That's why you lost." He said referring to the fight, his fighter just lost over the weekend. "Get those hands up."

Fitz walked away from all of the action and went over to the office that was across the gym from where his was located. He knocked on the open door.

"Hey ladies, everything good in here?" He asked the four women standing around the large mahogany desk.

"Yeah." Replied Kelly. Kelly was in charge of the financial business involving the gym. She made sure the gym stayed afloat. She also just so happened to be the owner's girlfriend. "I want these everywhere." She said to the three other women in the room, referring to the flyers that had the gym's information on it. "Hand them out to any guy you see. It doesn't matter if they're skinny guys, fat guys, tall guys, short guys, happy guys, sad guys. Just hand them out. Understand?"

They all nodded their heads except for one. She raised her hand and waited to be called on as if she was a student in school.

"What?"

"How are we supposed to walk up to random guys and hand these out?" She questioned.

"Easy. Watch me." Kelly said picking one of the flyers up from the desk. She looked over to Fitz who was now leaned up against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. Kelly sexily strutted towards him causing a small smirk to appear on his face.

"Hi." Fitz said when she was standing directly in front of him.

"Hi, I'm Kelly. What's your name?"

"I- I'm Derek."

"Hmm Derek that's a hot name." Kelly said flirtatiously, turning on her charm.

"Thanks." Fitz responded flirting back with her.

"You work out right? You look like a guy that likes to work out." She stated checking him out and squeezing his bicep.

Fitz looked down at her small hand gripping his large muscle.

"I work out from time to time." He answered untruthfully but it was all part of the act.

"Well you should start working out at this gym, Navy Street MMA. Have you heard of it? It's in Venice and is run by this guy Fitz Grant. He's a legend in the MMA world but I'm sure you already heard of him."

"Wow this Fitz guy sounds like a real badass."

"He is." Kelly confirmed, leaning in to make it look like she was going to kiss him, only to pull back and turn to the other women who were watching her in amazement. "See ladies that's how it's done."

They all grabbed their boxes of flyers and left to work their magic on any man that gives them his attention.

"You're such a tease." Fitz said pulling Kelly into him.

"Mmmm and you love me for it babe." Kelly leaned up to peck his lips.

"Unfortunately." He playfully replied unenthusiastically, which earned him a smack to his arm. "Ow, I was just kidding."

"You better be. I love you."

"Love you too." Kelly pecked his lips one more time before stepping out of his embrace. She went back to her desk to continue what she was working on before everyone showed up in her office.

When Fitz left Kelly's office, he noticed two new fighters were in the cage sparring. That would've been fine with Fitz, if the two fighters weren't his sons. He had no problem with Xavier, his younger son fighting, in fact he was an upcoming fighter who had his first big fight in a few days. Fitz, however, did have a problem with his oldest son Jay being in his cage. The thing about Jay that ticked Fitz off was his inability to follow the rules and maintain self control. Jay was wild, crazy,and a party animal with a drug and alcohol problem. He did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and however he wanted. There was no controlling him, not even the law could stop him from doing what he wanted. Jay gave no shits about consequences and for that reason he no longer fights professionally.

Jay Grant used to be a professional fighter, but gave it up due to his drug and alcohol problem. On more than one occasion, he showed up to fights under the influence, that's when he did show up. People got tired of Jay failing them, so after a while they refused to sponsor and manage him, including his own dad. Jay didn't care much at the time but as time went by, he found himself missing it more and more each day. That's why he was in the cage, helping his younger brother get prepared for his fight.

"Pops relax I'm not going to hurt him." Jay said before pounding his gloves together, so he could get back to fighting.

"I don't give a fuck. Get your ass out of that cage Jay, I mean it." Fitz growled in a warning tone.

"Or what?" Jay challenged with a smirk. He loved messing with his dad. He received great pleasure in seeing his dad irritated.

"You don't want to go there with me Jay. Get out of the fucking cage now."

"Okay, okay. I'm getting out. Man you're getting a little grumpy in your old age." Jay stated as he exited the cage.

Fitz was so focused on his oldest son that he failed to notice his younger one clenching his teeth in anger while he paced in circles, a habit he inherited from his mom. Xavier looked up to his brother even though he wasn't the best role model. They were extremely close growing up and nothing's changed now that they're 23 and 19 years old.

"Dad, Jay was just helping me with my technique. He wasn't hurting me." Xavier finally stepped in after listening to his dad chew out his older brother.

"I don't care X. Jay knows he's not supposed to be in the cage regardless of what he's doing. I'm warning you Jay… you know what just get your ass out of here, you fucking degenerate." Fitz said seriously.

"Love you too Pops." Jay responded lightheartedly as he took off his gear and put on his shirt and slid on his sandals. "See ya at home kid." He said to Xavier and then looked back at his dad. He blew Fitz a kiss before leaving the gym.

Fitz shook his head and wondered where he went wrong with Jay.

"This is bullshit." Xavier grumbled to himself. He stormed out of the cage, slamming the door behind him.

"Hey! Don't fucking slam my stuff unless you want to pay to repair it." Fitz said. He was in no mood to deal with Jay's craziness or Xavier's shitty attitude.

"Whatever." Xavier muttered underneath his breath without turning around to acknowledge his dad.

Fitz sighed and rubbed his temples. It was barely two o'clock in the afternoon and he was already dealing with a massive headache. He made his way over to his office and closed the door. He collapsed in the leather chair behind his desk with a deep exaggerated exhale. He rested his head on the back of his chair. Fitz stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before allowing his eyelids to drop. With his eyes closed, Fitz finally felt at somewhat peace. That was until his office phone started ringing. The only motivation he had for answering the phone was that there could possibility be an emergency. Fitz finally answered the phone on what was probably the last ring.

"Hello." He answered with no emotion present in his voice.

"Fitz." A female voice on the other end of the receiver said.

"Olivia." Fitz said in complete shock. He didn't have to question who the woman on the other end of the phone was. He could never forget the way her beautiful voice sounded. But what he did question was why she was calling. After all, it's been years since they last spoke to one another and even longer since they last saw each other in person. "Hi."

"Hi."

Author's Note: Okay I'm back again. I don't know if anyone found this interesting but like I said before I wanted to get this out there. I'll most likely continue this if you guys want me too but I have to finish at least one of my stories before continuing with this one. I don't know if anyone will find this version of Olitz interesting, but I hope this beginning sparked some interests. I originally posted this with just the beginning where Fitz was looking at himself in the mirror. I figured I should add more, so you could get a better understanding of the kind of story this could be. Please let me know what you think and as always I hope you enjoyed!