Caged With the Beast

by Aline Ash

Somewhere along the line, between the way I look and the savagery they force me to display, they decided to call me the Beast. It is a name I despise, but one they seem to believe is a badge of honor. I think it is a slur, and it only fuels my rage. I know I should not give in to the petty taunts and insults, but being locked in a cage, being forced to kill to survive, has filled me with rage.

  I know I must stay focused. Must remain ready for my chance to get out of this place to renew the fight to protect my tribe and my world. But I cannot seem to get Marissa out of my head. I know she needs me. She will not survive in this place long if left alone. She is tougher than I originally thought of her, but she cannot battle beings like the Gargolians and expect to live long.

  Gut’a the Gargolians for throwing her into my cell in the first place. And gut’a me for not getting rid of her before now. For letting myself get caught up in her. And for letting her get beneath my skin, into those places within me I thought I’d shut off the moment I set foot on Gerr’a. Gut’a me for letting her make me feel something bright and warm in the dark misery of this place.

  I should have gotten rid of her from the start, for now I fear it might be already too late.

  * * *

  “Remember, do what I tell you,” I say.

  “I know how to fight.”

  “Not like this,” I reply. “Not against these beings.”

  Marissa’s face is hard. Unreadable. I can smell the fear and anger wafting off of her in equal measures. She is ready for a fight, but she does not know what she is about to step into. The fight she had with the Gargolian woman was nothing compared to the spectacle she is about to be part of. And unless she is smart and does as I say, she is going to get herself killed, a thought that sends a ripple of my own fear surging through me.

  And there is the problem—if I will be too busy worrying about and protecting her, I might make a mistake that costs me my own life. If that were to happen, I fear the worst for my allies. For my tribe. For my world.

  I push those thoughts out of my mind. Dwelling on them right now will serve no purpose other than to distract me. A distraction I cannot afford.

  We walk through the labyrinth of corridors that takes us from my cell to the arena. A security detail of four armed Gargolians march silently behind us. I can feel the near glee that is radiating off of them like heat from the sun. It is as if they know something I do not. That worries me. Not knowing what is in store for us beyond the doors worries me in ways I have never felt before. And I know it is because of these feelings for Marissa.

  “What is going to happen?” she whispers.

  “We have been selected by the viewers to fight together,” I reply.

  “Why do you seem so tense?”

  I glance down at my small female. “Because I am concerned for your safety.”

  “Worry about yourself, Kon,” she snaps. “I know how to fight.”

  She looks up at me, eyes narrowed and her chin tilted in defiance. I can see the steel core and strength that is within her. I just do not think it will be enough. As if it would be so simple as to only worry for myself.

  “Hold here,” hisses one of the guards.

  We stand before the door that will admit us to the arena. The last time we were in the arena together, I was punishing her. It was an act that although rough, perhaps even brutal, we both garnered some sort of enjoyment from. And as I think back to the way she had been presented to me, stripped of all clothing, her hindquarters in the air, giving me a view of her soft, round usha and the wet, velvety folds of her sex, my jura stirs once more. I push those thoughts away quickly. I cannot afford to be distracted right now.

  “We do not know what waits for us beyond this door,” I tell her. “Stay close to me and do as I say.”

  “I can—”

  “I know, you can fight,” I growl. “And fight you will. But be smart and listen to me. Tell me you hear and will obey.”

  “Kon, I—”

  “Tell me, Marissa,” I pitch my voice lower. Harder. “Now.”

  She looks at me and the fear on her face is plain. She hesitates for a long moment and then finally gives me a small nod.

  “I hear you and I will obey.”

  “Good.”

  The door slides upward with the shrill keening of metal grinding on metal. We step through the door together and into the arena. Above us, the hover-cams circle as they jockey for position, trying to get the best angles on the carnage to come. Just like yesterday, the bleachers are filled with other prisoners, howling and screaming their delight at the bloodshed that is to come.

  The floor of the arena is the same red dirt, but large rock formations have been added, making the fighting pit look much like the surface of Gerr’a that lay outside the prison. It is desolate and somehow threatening all at the same time. There is a loud chime from the arena’s audio system, and it is followed by the voice of Administrator X’yr.

  “Welcome to tonight’s featured match,” his voice booms. “Tonight’s match features one of your most fearsome favorites, the Beast!”

  I sigh and look down at Marissa. “I hate this part the most, the production putting on a good show for all the viewers back on Gargole,” I sneer. “I would rather have somebody swinging a blade at me.”

  Marissa laughs uneasily, and though she’s trying to control it, I can see the fear in her eyes only deepening. She clearly realizes that whether she knows how to fight or not, she may be in over her head.

  “Fighting alongside the Beast is his human pet, Marissa!”

  The crowd erupts in jeers and boos, harsh words in a hundred different languages are being hurled our way.

  Marissa’s face darkens, and her eyes narrow as she grows angrier. “Your pet?”

  I give her a smirk. “Do not let that get to you, Marissa. The beings in the stands around us are calling you much worse.”

  She bristles initially but then looks up and gives me a smirk of her own. Good. She needs to be loose and ready for what’s about to happen.

  “And for your viewing pleasure, set to battle the Beast and his pet, T’myr and Vu’ka!”

  As the door on the opposite end of the arena opens, two tall Gargolians stride through, and I groan. The crowd bursts into a frenzy of cheering and excitement.

  “What is it?” Marissa asks.

  I sigh. “T’myr and Vu’ka are shaemar.”

  “They’re what?”

  “I think you would call them a couple,” I quickly translate. “They are fierce and among the most popular fighters on Gerr’a. And the most lethal. The viewers love them and thus, will shower them with astrat.”

  “What does that mean for us?”

  “That they will very likely have advantages we will not.”

  “But I thought you were the most popular,” Marissa presses.

  “I am not a Gargolian,” I reply. “I am a novelty to them. But they will always root for their own, criminals or not.”

  “Wonderful,” she replies dryly.

  “There are rudimentary weapons scattered about the floor of the arena, spears and blades,” I tell her. “Find one and protect yourself. Keep yourself out of Vu’ka’s reach. Run and stay alive. I will come for you when I am through with T’myr.”

  Marissa stands beside me as T’myr and Vu’ka stand before us. They look at me, then at her, then turn to each other and laugh. The female Gargolian turns to me with an icy glare.

  “I’m looking forward to gutting your pet,” she rasps.

  I flash her a smirk. “That will be difficult to do with my hands around your throat.”

  “We shall see.”

  A loud bell sounds, and I lead Marissa back to our starting position as the Gargolians retreat to theirs.

  “Remember,” I tell Marissa. “Find a weapon. Stay on the move, and do not let Vu’ka corner you.”

  “Fighters ready?” X’yr’s voice cuts through the din of the crowd. “Then let’s put on a good show!”

  Another bell sounds a
nd the fight begins.

  Chapter Nine

  Marissa

  What in the hell have I gotten myself into? What in the hell am I even doing here?

  My stomach is churning, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. Despite my assurances to Kon, I am very much not equipped for this fight. There’s a big difference between being a beat cop and scuffling with some drunk on a Friday night and being thrown into a fighting pit with creatures that look like something straight out of my worst nightmares.

  I’m scared. More scared than I’ve ever been in my life.

  The sound of a bell tolls, and I stand rooted to my spot, watching the round camera drones hovering overhead, listening to the roar of the crowd, hearing some of the most vile, hateful things I’ve ever heard in my life directed at me.

  I feel an impossibly large hand on my shoulder. He shakes me hard enough to snap me out of my paralysis and I look up at him.

  “Run. Find a weapon, do not let Vu’ka corner you,” he growls, his voice cutting through the cacophony of the pit. “Obey me now!”

  He gives me one more hard shake and sprints away. I watch him go, watch the way his muscles ripple beneath his fur. He moves with a feline’s grace and swiftness. From the other side of the arena, I watch as the two Gargolians sprint toward me, the fear inside me rising to heights I’ve never known before.

  As Kon engages with the male Gargolian, I watch the female, Vu’ka, bearing down on me. Her cold reptilian eyes bore into mine, and her face is twisted with maniacal glee.

  “She’s going to kill me,” I mutter.

  I stand for a moment longer as the words sink into my brain, and I realize what they mean—if I stand here, I’m going to die. As if snapping out of a dream, I look around. Half buried in the dirt, I see the hilt of what looks like a sword. I dash to it, pick it up quickly, and sprint away. I can hear Vu’ka’s heavy footsteps behind me, closing the distance between us, and a laugh bursts from my throat as I can suddenly relate to how the criminals I used to bust felt as I ran them down.

  I cut left and dash behind a pile of black rock that pulse with veins of green that spiderweb the craggy surface.

  “Come out, little pet,” Vu’ka hisses. “I promise to make it quick and as painless as I can.”

  I circle the pile of stones, keeping it between the Gargolian and I. It’s tall enough that we can’t see each other, but I can hear her heavy footfalls. Thinking quickly, I scramble up the pile of stones and peer down. Vu’ka is circling the pile, searching for me. She’s got a look of childlike delight on her face, as if this is fun for her.

  The blade of my sword is thin and curved, and looks like a toothpick compared to the sword in her hand. Vu’ka’s blade looks as if she could cleave a redwood in half with it. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Gathering my courage and strength, I leap from the top of the pile of stone, the point of my blade pointed straight down.

  She seems to sense me coming at the last minute and looks up. The Gargolian is swift, and rather than plunging my blade into the back of her neck, she maneuvers herself so that I miss my mark. But the edge of my blade rakes the Gargolian’s shoulder and back. She hisses in pain as the cut opens up and a rush of thick muddy green blood pours out.

  I never see the backhand coming, and when it connects with my face, I see bursts of light flare behind my eyes. A kick to the gut drives me backward, forcing all of the air from my lungs, and I collapse onto my ass. I scramble to my feet and hold my sword up as Vu’ka swings her massive blade in a murderous arc. I dance backward with my sword still up, and when the two blades connect, the reverberation that shoots up my arm feels like I’ve been hit with ten thousand volts of electricity.

  I hear the high-pitched ringing sound of something shattering as I stumble backward and hold my sword up again, only to realize I don’t have a sword. I have a jagged little stump where the blade used to be.

  “Shit. She broke my sword,” I mutter.

  Looking up, I see the Gargolian closing on me again, a murderous glint in her eye. Her tunic is splattered with her dark blood, and it dribbles onto the dirt at her feet. At least I scored a hit. Her eyes never leaving mine, Vu’ka dips her fingers into her own blood and makes me watch her lick it off.

  “Not as tasty as you’ll be, I’m sure,” she hisses.

  “Y-you’re going to eat me?” I gasp.

  “Of course. Why let good meat go to waste?” Vu’ka grins. “But before I kill and devour you, my partner and I will take turns raping you in front of this crowd. We will let them all see us break you. Only then will we taste your flesh.”

  She starts to move again, and as I back up, I trip over a stone that’s half covered by dirt. It sends me sprawling, and I end up on my ass again. Vu’ka laughs and raises her sword as she approaches. But then I see a streak of silver, and right before my eyes, she seems to sprout something metallic from her side. I realize Kon had seen I was in trouble and had thrown one of his daggers, burying the blade to the hilt in her side. He’d saved me. The big Gargolian female hitches and falls to a knee, crying out in pain.

  “Marissa, get up,” Kon roars. “Move. Now!”

  I turn and see the big Tabiean glaring at me. He’s covered in blood, not all of it his, thankfully. But he has definitely taken some hits. The male Gargolian engages him again, and their fighting is fierce. Claws rake, blood flies, and the ring of steel on steel is somehow louder than the crowd, which is in a near frenzy.

  Vu’ka’s eyes are still fixed on me as she pulls the dagger Kon had thrown from her side. She licks the blade and flashes me a sadistic smile, but I can see the pain etched into her features. I scramble to my feet and run for the nearest rock formation. Cutting a glance behind me, I see Vu’ka is back on her feet and giving chase. But she’s not moving quite as fast, and there is a pronounced hitch in her step as blood from Kon’s dagger wound drips down her side, staining the bottom half of her tunic in disgusting green.

  As I run, I see what looks like a fucking scoreboard over a control booth. I see strange-looking bars and dots flashing on the screen below the images of the two Gargolians. They’re growing in numbers while the bars and dots below Kon and I remain steady. These must be the astrat’ scores. I hear another bell toll, and at the far end of the arena, a box is dropped into the dirt. Vu’ka has altered her course and is heading for the box, which tells me I will not like what’s in there.

  I let out a scream of surprise when Kon is suddenly standing next to me. His breathing is ragged, and he is bleeding from what looks like a thousand different cuts.

  “The viewers have gifted them with weapons meant to finish us,” he gasps.

  “That is not fair.”

  “But not unexpected,” he growls. “Nothing about this is fair. All we can do is survive.”

  The pair of Gargolians have grabbed their new weapons and are running toward us once more. Kon grips my arms and looks at me.

  “Be brave, Marissa,” he says. “Stay alive. I will come for you.”

  With that, he pushes me away and runs straight toward T’myr. Vu’ka runs toward me with what looks like a long metal trident. Electricity crackles between the prongs, and I see something that looks vaguely like a crossbow on her back.

  “Yeah, nothing about this is fucking fair,” I grumble.

  I turn and sprint away again, hoping my body doesn’t give out before I either get the drop on Vu’ka or the cavalry arrives. At this point, I’m not too proud to say I could really use Kon’s help here.

  Chapter Ten

  Kon

  I may have underestimated Marissa. She has not only managed to survive to this point, she has managed to inflict a couple of wounds upon Vu’ka on her own. Not mortal, but not superficial either. And she’s done it largely without my help. It is most impressive.

  But the fight is not yet won.

  T’myr circles me with his sword in hand. He has shattered my last remaining blade, leaving me weaponless. I curse production for giving me such cheap
weapons to work with. And I curse the viewers for gifting the Gargolians with new, deadlier weapons. The edge of T’myr’s blade drips with a sticky blue substance I know is a deadly venom from the Gargolian homeworld. One scratch from an edge of that poisoned blade is enough to kill me.

  He spins the blade in his hands, moving so fast all I see is a blur. Through the blur I see him reach for a small pouch on his belt, no doubt something he picked up from the box of weapons he was gifted. It is a good thing I have an idea what he’s grabbing and what his next move is going to be.

  His hand lashes out, and a small ball that’s round and gray flies into the air between us. There is a loud pop and suddenly, he and I are both encompassed in a thick cloud of smoke. I quickly dip my shoulder and roll to the left and feel him pass by me, the wind from his body in motion stirring the cloud of smoke. I roll to my right, and a moment later, I hear the ring of steel on the ground. I barely missed my death.

  The cloud stirs and writhes as if it’s alive, and I catch a glimpse of T’myr. His back is to me as he searches for me in the opaque swirling cloud, and I start to move. It is the one advantage I possess. Moving on instinct, with all of my hunter senses on high, I find my way to him. I slip up behind T’myr and wrap my arm around his throat.

  He lashes back with his hand, but I catch it before he can bring the blade down on me. I twist his wrist cruelly and am gratified when I hear a snap and feel his arm bend unnaturally in my grip. He lets out a high-pitched keening sound as his poisoned blade clatters to the dirt, his arm now hanging uselessly at his side. I move quickly, as even when injured, Gargolians are still deadly. Using my other arm as leverage, I give T’myr’s neck a hard jerk and smile when I hear a sharp crack.

  T’myr’s lifeless body falls to the dirt, limp, and very much dead. A moment later, the smoke clears away, and I search for Marissa, desperate to find her. I spot her across the arena from me. She and Vu’ka are circling each other around a large boulder. The Gargolian is holding a shukya, a weapon that fires short and lethally pointed metal spikes. Marissa is holding the chyto, a trident I distinctly recall seeing in Vu’ka’s hands right after they got their weapons cache.