The cheers of the crowd echoed throughout the circular arena as the platform lifted me onto the main stage. All I could hear was the clinking of the chains dangling from the collar and my heart pounding as I realized the time to fight was right now. What I had mentally put off could not be deferred any longer.
Unlike last time I was here, there weren’t any poles, instead, I was inside a circular cage. There was no roof, but the fence went up about three times my height. On the sidelines were the soldiers being as boisterous as ever. The problem, however, stood on top, condescending and glacial. If I was disconcerted, she made me mortified. This reality wouldn't even be taking place if it wasn't for that woman. Doctor Raven Garnett. As regal as she carried herself, it was clear that I no longer even served as her bed warmer. The disgust and annoyance with which she stared at me was as if she had just ruined her brand new shoes by stepping in dog shit while running late to work. It was clear that Dahlia had not yet found any evidence to disprove the video that painted me as the world's biggest liar in her eyes.
To add insult to injury, to Mistress's right stood Nurse Cleary, Kristia, and Mia. All three were looking quite smug, satisfied with the outcome. Typical of Cleary, she was biting down on her lower lip with a face that exuded ecstasy while Mia was counting dollar bills clearly looking to win big on today's bet. Kristia was just waiting with obvious anticipation.
Diametrically opposed to them were Dahlia and Nivia who sat on Mistress's left. As I watched Nivia try to hide her discomfort, Dahlia's grimace gave away her pain, upset, and defeat as I have never seen before.
The weight of the chains forced me to stop looking up at them, coercing me to take a knee and remain hunched over until the fight had begun. On the brink of muscle fatigue, it seemed like a millennia had passed before the announcer presented my opponent. When the other platform rose onto the arena’s floor, I was able to catch a glimpse of the opposition before my arms gave out and I was pulled to the ground, bent forward.
The girl that I was to fight - Subject 0145 - had been flat on the ground surely due to my same predicament with these massive chains.
Subject 0145, huh? If I assume that these numbers they are using to label us are in numerical order, then I wonder how long this girl has been their captive?
If I am being forced to fight 2 weeks - or is it 3 - after I was captured, then I think it's safe to say that she's been here for months.
I honestly don't know how long I've been here anymore.
Did she also go through the same things I already did? Does that mean that she has been victorious in her previous encounters?
Dahlia said that my best bet was to win if I wanted better living conditions and less oversight anyway.
Yeah, I'll give them the fight they want. This is pointless, but I want an easier life. I'll give in to their supposed promise and just knock her out quickly.
"Fighters, are you ready?" The announcer yelled over the speakers. The crowd roared. "First fighter to incapacitate the other, wins. Anything goes!"
I can't see my opponent, but at those last words, a terrible chill shook my core. I'm ready to do whatever it takes.
"Fight starts in 3…" My heart rate picked up.
"2…" I'm straining to stand.
"1!" With a heavy thud, the collar opens and the chains drop. "Fight!"
Feeling a million pounds lighter, I can lift my head again. The chains retract into the floor. I'm poised to get the upper hand early on. Taking a step forward, I zero in on my competition.
I halt midway into my next step, glued to my spot. This girl, she's thin. Woefully thin. Her hair is wild, all matted and tangled. Save for the same brilliant white clothes as me that she's wearing, she's filthy. Her shirt and pants have a gray imprint with red streaks of where she handled them to put them on. The smell of days worth of an unwashed human body buffets my nose as I fix on her, making it apparent that this girl cannot be one of Mistress's test subjects. Mistress is far too particular on cleanliness and hygiene.
Her wrists, ankles, and neck have deep, angry red grooves, evidence that she has been restrained for a long time and probably only had her restraints taken off for the fight. The ends of her fingers are bloody. I bet she tried everyday to get her tight shackles off.
What made me stop in my tracks was not how bad this girl looked, but the intensity with which her eyes penetrated into the very fiber of my being. So many emotions were exchanged in a single glance. Misery, anxiety, bitterness, revulsion, disdain, hate. There was just so much hatred emanating from her that it was almost palpable. Compared to her, even though I can tell that my hip bones, ribs, sternum, and cheeks are more prominent, I was relatively clean and plump.
The vice-like grip with which her stare immobilized me gave her enough time to come charging at me. She swung her fist at my face. I almost tripped as I dodged her. She took the opportunity to connect her other fist with my abdomen, taking me by surprise and making me stagger back. The hit was nowhere near as hard as Dahlia's, but it, nevertheless, made me hunch over and grab at my gut. Without giving me any time to catch my breath and react, this girl lunged at me and knocked me down. She was now straddling me. Winding up for the next punch, I managed to cover my face just before her hit landed on my forearms, sides of my head, and torso.
This girl is not letting up! She came out of the gate like a rabid beast. I don't blame her. In her state, I can only imagine what she was promised if she won.
I can't keep defending.
I position my feet and lift my hips with such speed and force that I unseat her. She doesn't weigh much anyway. After she's off me, I shove her as far away as I can. The crowd is ecstatic.
What she lacks in weight, she makes up for in speed. She's lunging again, but this time I'm able to side step and push her. She slams face first into the wall with an audible thud then collapses to the ground.
Before she can get a chance to recover, I come up behind her and wrap one forearm around her neck while pulling back on it with my other hand.
She scratches at my arms, but when I don't let up, she goes for my face. I tighten the hold on her hoping she goes out quickly.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I don't want to do this, but the faster you're unconscious, the faster we can get out of here!" I try to make her see my reasoning.
Even though her forceful inhales make a loud pitched sound, she manages to choke out a sentence. "I…need to…win this!" Instead of pulling back, she grips my arms and musters up the strength to lurch forward and throw me over her shoulder.
The motion sends me sprawling on my back. I recover quickly and I'm on my feet again. Looks like I picked up falling and recovering from Nivia well enough. The crowd is in uproar.
We are now squaring up against each other. "They said that if I win, they'll give me a feast!" We are now circling the stage, wary of what the other is about to do. "So, don't get in my way!" She charges at me, so I do the same.
The crowd is chanting our names. Emily is my adversary.
She's shorter than me, not by a lot, so I crouched low, but she slid under me. Her shins collided with mine. I nosedived. Tears immediately sprang from my eyes as the pain of breaking the fall with my face made itself known.
To stay on the ground is to lose. There’s no time to assess the damage. I jumped to my feet and ran in the opposite direction of Emily. This girl is speed personified. Unable to turn and face her, Emily had jumped on my back. She bit down - hard.
I let out a pained scream. I staggered for a second then slammed full-force back into the wall. She had to get off me one way or another.
A loud, solid thud filled my ears.
The crowd went wild.
She slid to the ground, dazed. Enraged and taken by surprise, I kicked her in the midsection before wobbling back. That gave me time to recoup and determine the damage.
I moved my bloodstained shirt out of the way to bear witness to the raw wound underneath. Periodic bouts of sharp pain shot out from the injury. I clamped down on it to buffer the jolts.
Emily was still on the ground, her teeth were crimson and she was gasping for breath.
With my left arm drooping, I started towards my opponent.
"Wait! There's been a change of plans!" The announcer's voice boomed. "It seems that Mistress wishes to see a quick end to the fight."
Making sure that Emily was still down, I directed most of my attention to Mistress up on the platform. She said something to Mia because Mia grinned as she unsheathed her knife and handed it to Mistress. Dahlia's eyebrows formed a stiff peak as she stood from her chair, but was held back by two burly security guards and Nivia who was signaling with her hands and head for Dahlia to calm down. Kristia was standing, smirking, with her arms crossed in between Nivia and Mistress. Mistress ignored whatever Dahlia was saying which was drowned out by the rambunctious crowd. Mistress then threw the knife into the ring.
"There you have it folks. It's going to be a fight to the death! Place your bets and let's see who emerges victorious!"
The knife clinked and clanged as it bounced on the ground.
No! This… This is different!
My feet moved on impulse towards the weapon. I briefly looked at Emily, but she had already recovered and was on her way to the knife!
Shit!
I ran as fast as my feet would take me but Emily was still ahead. When she opened her hand to reach for the weapon, I tackled her. Her body connected with the wall.
The knife! She had possession of it! The blow wasn't enough to knock it out of her grip.
I ran back to the opposite end of the Arena.
Shit. Shit. Shit! What do I do now?
Emily stood with the knife in her left hand. There was a trickle of red going down her forehead. She was seething and grinning at the same time.
"Well, well, well, looks like I'll be feasting tonight!" Emily took a step towards me. "Don't take this personally, Keira, but it's you or me and I choose me!" With that, Emily ran in my direction.
As she rushed towards me, knife first, I side stepped just in time to avoid the brunt of her attack. I twisted my torso just as she was in my range. Building enough momentum, I landed a solid blow to the back of her skull with my injured arm. She instantly dropped and released the knife.
I picked up the bloody weapon and took a couple of steps back. The knife had found its way into the side of my abdomen.
I didn't have time to check the cut. Adrenaline must be masking the pain now.
Emily was out cold and I had the knife. They wouldn't stop the fight.
This isn't fair! I bested her. There's no reason to kill her!
In my hesitation, Mistress's cool voice came over the speakers, "End her, Keira." Mistress finally said my name again!
I turned to Mistress on the platform and stared straight at her. "End her life and I'll forget about the tape."
I looked at Emily's form on the ground. A life for a doctored tape?
"That's not good enough!" I countered, disgusted at the proposition. The crowd was silent.
"Kill her and you'll get your life back." There was a hint of a smirk at the end.
…My life?
Can I even go back? What about my scars? What would people say about them? How do I explain those away?
Mistress took my life from me already!
There's no going back!
"Liar! You can't give me my life back!" Tears stung the corners of my eyes. "I'm fucking done with you and everyone in here!" Rage was gripping my soul. Without the collar, Mistress couldn't stop me.
I changed my grip on the knife. "It's time I took something from you!"
Mistress and everyone who was with her on the platform stood and gripped the railing. The crowd gasped as I drove the knife into my chest.
The pain…
It was unbearable.
I was motionless.
Spine-chilling screams flooded the Arena.
My muscles couldn't and wouldn't move an inch. Burning pain flooded my synapses.
The tip of the knife had barely broken my skin.
I couldn't cease my wailing as my body no longer remained my own.
My arms moved against my will. The more I tried to regain control, the more everything burned. I wanted to peel away my skin and tear my muscles away.
The knife was a safe distance away from my chest when my hands switched their grip to point the weapon outward.
My legs now had a mind of their own. My will was imprisoned in this autonomous meat cage.
My throat was stinging, but the pain coursing through my limbs was too great to stop my shrieks.
Step by step, I approached Emily. Even though my left arm was injured from her bite, it didn't matter to whatever was possessing me. Entwining my fingers into the back of her hair, I lifted Emily. She was coming to.
Her eyes darted from mine to the weapon. She didn't have a chance to plead. My right arm had plunged the knife deep into the center of her abdomen. Her eyes went wide for a brief second before closing as my hand twisted the blade inside of her and pulled the knife away.
A scarlet geyser spurted from the wound.
It wasn't enough, however, for the demon in control. My wailing didn't pause as my hand thrusted again, and again, and again, and again…
The slick blood was making my grip falter, but I wasn't stopping.
There had been an announcement over the speakers, but my yells devoured it. All sounds were muffled at this point.
Guards filed into the Arena, pointing the ends of their barrels at me. They remained a safe distance away, shouting words that never reached me. Their faces were flooded with horror.
A small prick pinched the side of my neck. My vision was beginning to blur. My left hand went to investigate the cause while my right kept stabbing the heap of unmoving flesh in front of me.
A dart. That's what got me.
In a few more seconds, my hands had leaden and were dangling by my sides. What a pleasant solace.
My body fell forward into the girl who did nothing wrong but find herself a prisoner of these people.
The world went black.
_____
Published Tuesday, April 25, 2023