by Kieran Song
“I’m not one of them,” she promised.
Dog smirked. “You’re not in chains and you’re not in a cage. You’re not one of us either.”
Allegra took a deep breath. “I might not be physically imprisoned but believe me, I’m a prisoner here, just like you are,” she said.
“I thought I told you the next time I saw you, I would kill you.”
“Haven’t you had your fill of killing yet?”
Dog shook his head. “I do whatever I need to do to live.”
“Your survival isn’t dependent on my death,” Allegra said. “It’s the opposite. I’m the one that tends to your injuries and makes sure your wounds don’t fester. I’m the one that gives you antibiotics so a fever doesn’t take you because of infection. If it weren’t for me, you’d probably be dead.”
Dog laughed just before rising to his feet. He trudged over towards Allegra until only the iron bars and several inches of space separated them.
“You should just let me die then,” Dog said. “You’re keeping me alive just so I can go out there and kill another person. That doesn’t make much sense does it?”
Allegra shook her head. “You’re not to blame for any of this,” she said. “It’s an impossible situation. I will also never turn my back to anyone who needs medical help.”
“I enjoyed it,” Dog said. “I enjoyed killing Sunny.”
Allegra was in shock and she recoiled from him.
“Now leave me alone.”
She did as he requested but not before putting a final word in.
“You really are a dog.”
Chapter Six.
The next visitor Dog received was a man named Ryker. He walked and talked with an air of importance to him that made Dog realize that he was the one in charge. Dog vowed to stick a knife into this man’s heart given the first opportunity.
“You’re a savage,” Ryker grinned. He held a cigarette to his mouth and inhaled it with euphoric pleasure. Dog wanted to shove the thing through Ryker’s nostril.
“The way you killed the other boy, it was…” Ryker began. “It was beautiful.”
“It wasn’t intended to be,” Dog replied. Ryker took another drag from his cigarette before tossing it onto the floor. He extinguished it with the tip of his pointy leather boot and took a step closer to the iron cage.
“You stirred something in me,” Ryker said. “I felt this overwhelming excitement watching you take the life out of that boy. It was like watching a lion cub stalking its prey for the first time. You fight with this ferocity that I haven’t seen in a long while.”
Dog was not amused by Ryker’s words and he ignored him, hoping that this greasy man would leave him in peace. No such luck.
“You are a curious one,” Ryker thought aloud, his eyes narrowing on Dog. “You could have killed your opponent easily, but you allowed him to come back in the fight. You practically gave him the knife.” Dog could tell that the fights were a passion to him.
“No,” Dog replied. “He took me by surprise. He was stronger than I thought.”
Ryker laughed and shook his head. “You’re just fooling yourself kid. You had him, but you hesitated. Those scars on your arms and chest are your own doing.”
Dog frowned at what Ryker was implying. He had spent his whole life surviving, and if it meant taking another life in order to do so, he had no qualms over it. He was not weak.
“Was Sunny the first person you ever killed?” Ryker asked.
Dog met him with silence.
“No, you’ve done it before,” Ryker said. “The first time is always the hardest. They normally cry after they do it, but for some reason you stood there like some dumb oaf, staring at Sunny while he bled out in front of you. You’ve killed before.”
“I don’t like crying.”
Ryker smiled. “Spoken like a true tough guy. I have high hopes for you in the pits.”
“I’m just surviving this shit you brought me into,” Dog replied.
Ryker chuckled. “You have another fight coming up in three days. Eat your fill and rest up,” Ryker said. “This time your opponent won’t be easy. He has blood on his hands too.”
Dog shrugged his shoulders and walked away from the cage. He sat down in the corner of his cell and stared at the ceiling while Ryker crammed in one last word before he left.
“Savage.”
When Dog was finally alone, he began thinking about the next fight. If it were against any of the others in this room, Dog had little to worry about.
You had him but you hesitated, were Ryker’s words.
“Maybe I did after all,” Dog whispered to himself.
In the middle of the night, a third visitor came to see Dog. Sunny stood within the confines of Dog’s cell and stared at him with bloody eyes.
He was still bleeding profusely, though his body was translucent instead of a lively flesh color. He did not speak, but his eyes said everything Dog needed to hear.
I’m dead.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t have a choice,” Dog said. “One of us had to die.”
But why me?
Dog rose to his feet and looked Sunny in his pale eyes.
“We were both at the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said.
I had a life.
“So did I.”
I had a family. Someone loved me.
“Someone loved me once too.”
But not anymore?
“No. Not anymore.”
Then you see, I should have been the one to live.
Dog shook his head. “Don’t you see? We’ll all die here anyways.”
Sunny nodded in agreement.
“Are you at peace where you are?” Dog asked. Sunny shook his head.
Not until we’re all free. Until then I can’t leave. None of us can.
“You going to spook me every night? That is until I die and end up like you?” Dog asked. The apparition shook his head.
Others will come.
Dog thought for a moment, before replying thoughtfully. “For what it’s worth I’m sorry. I really am.”
But Sunny was gone and Dog was alone again in his cell. He wondered if it was only a matter of time before he too ended up as a ghost in this hellish place.
BOOK TWO: SURVIVAL
Interlude:
From the Journal of Edmund Glaber:
November 4, 2007,
As I watched the two kids bludgeon each other to death in the pit, there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to hell. After all, I helped build this place: The Arena — a modern-day gladiator pit for children. Some nights, I can’t help but feel depressed when I realize what a rotten thing I’ve done. The Devil’s reserved a special seat for me at his dining room table where I’ll be eating shit for an eternity.
I admit I was no saint before my involvement in the Arena. I’ve done my share of questionable things: murder, extortion, robbery. I regret all of it, though not because of a guilty conscience. I regret these criminal acts because they resulted in meeting Ryker.
When the prison guard of Redgate Penitentiary tossed that scrawny grease ball into my cell, my first impressions of the man was that it would be a couple days at most before he was shanked or became someone’s love toy. But he surprised me. What he lacked in muscle, he made up for with brains. Ryker knew how to manipulate people. It was as if he could see the gears turning inside a person’s head and knew exactly what levers and buttons to push and they did what he wanted.
While sharing that prison cell together over the years, I grew pretty close to the man, so when we both left Red Gate, it was natural for us to end up working together.
At one point Ryker had asked me “How dirty are you willing to get your hands,” and my response was “Just line my palms with cash and I won’t even notice the dirt.” If there was ever one thing I regretted in this terrible life of mine, it was my reply that day. I should have said “no,” and ran as far away as far as possible. But the promise of money was too good, and the
value of cash to me had more worth than my soul at the time.
When Ryker took me to the abandoned city of Bimini (located on the South-West coast of America), I was confused. Why would anyone want to come to this desolate place?
Bimini had quite the tragic history. Two decades ago, a new root was discovered on the coast of Augustine, and after experimentation on animals, scientists discovered that it had capabilities of reducing the aging process. The Blackwater pharmaceutical corporation was quick to purchase the land and established a working community as a base of operations—which they named Bimini—with the sole purpose of harvesting the root and manufacturing it into a commercial product.
Pearls of Life they called it, black spheres no larger than marbles that were swallowed like vitamins in order to look young forever. Despite public consumer warnings by many government officials, The Blackwater Corporation made billions and Bimini flourished into a rich community with lavish houses, schools, shopping malls, movie theatres, and even a small underground subway system. For ten years Bimini reaped the rewards of the Pearls of Life, and everyone who worked and lived in the community retained their youth and was filthy rich. That was until the discovery that the root itself was poisonous.
It took ten years for the first symptoms to show: the complete loss of hair all over the body. At first, people were in an uproar and screamed murder at the Blackwater Corporation, stating that the Pearls of Life caused Alopecia Areata, a disease that caused a person to lose their hairs. At the time it was a humourous sight to me, all the people vain enough to purchase the Pearls of Life walking around with wigs and drawn on eyebrows. The entire town of Bimini was a population of shiny, bald freaks. Little did the walking hairless know that it would get much worse.
The next symptom was the bleeding. They bled from any open orifice: eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. The Pearls of Life (renamed the Devil’s balls) were toxic.
The final death mark was the liquefying of inner organs, which made it pretty messy. They played one tape on the news of a woman calling into 9-1-1 while her innards were turning into juice and, I swear, I’ll never forget the screaming. It was almost as horrifying as watching these kids fight.
The total time of death from the first signs of hair loss was six months with no chance of survival. Anyone who had ingested the root (which were mainly the wealthy because the pearls were so costly) was doomed to die.
The government rushed to the city’s aid, quarantining all of Bimini and setting up medical facilities inside the city, hoping to find a cure. It was far too late. America, along with the rest of the world, watched in horror as the community of Bimini became a city for the dead.
After removing all the dead bodies, the government decommissioned the manufacturing plant and purged the soil around it so that the root could never grow again. With the Blackwater Corporation in shambles, no one wanted to take responsibility for the dead community of Bimini and it was abandoned. Ten years later Bimini was just another story and place that was best left forgotten.
“This is where we’ll build it,” Ryker had said.
“Build what?”
“My Arena.”
I had my doubts at first about the entire idea. How on earth was it possible to create such a thing without having the rest of the world discover it?
“Bimini is a place people want to forget about. It’s a skeleton so deformed that the entire world wants it moved out of the closet and buried six-feet underground. No one wants a reminder that their vanity resulted in thousands of brutal deaths.” Ryker had said. “Anyone who’s sane and has a full conscience won’t step foot in this place, which is why Bimini is the perfect location. I also have a benefactor that will ensure our operations remain undiscovered.”
His benefactor was a man named Damien. Ryker wouldn’t tell me where he met him but told me that Damien was going to make us both very rich.
I disliked the man right from the get-go. He was not a bad looking guy and was certainly charming and charismatic. But something about him made me uncomfortable. Just being in his presence I felt like I had just ingested spiders.
Damien supplied the money and Ryker supplied the vision, and I made sure things went smoothly. I was always good at managing projects; just a shame that they were always illegal.
We built the Arena at Union Station, the final stop of Bimini’s underground subway, which was located just below Blackwater’s manufacturing plant. What once was an underground nexus filled with trains, shops, and corporate workers was now an Arena with a giant pit like the ones seen in old medieval gladiator movies.
In little less than two years, Ryker had his Arena — his patronage to violence, and all I could do was go along with it.
Ryker took every precaution in order to ensure we weren’t discovered by the outside world. He had satellite dishes built that scrambled any satellite photos taken of the area and the land mines and guards hidden around Bimini’s perimeters ensured no one got in or out without Ryker’s approval. He also made sure the entire Arena was kept hidden underground with the guards entering and leaving only when required. The slaves were rarely allowed to leave the underground confines.
The Arena’s customer base were individuals that Damien funneled over; shady criminals and occasional businessmen as corrupt as Ryker was. No one was allowed to watch the fights unless Ryker himself granted them special access. Ryker ran advanced background checks on all individuals who purchased tickets, storing their information in his databases. He was always cautious of cops and he was good at smelling them out too. Any individuals Ryker had suspicions of, he sent their names back to Damien, and they were “handled.” Over the course of two years, the Arena’s customer base grew fairly large and there was a waiting list to purchase tickets to the fights. We were making money hand over fist on admissions and the betting.
I look at the stands and see the thralls of people coming to watch kids murder each other and I can’t stand to look any longer. I made a fortune from this entire thing, but money can’t be worth this monstrosity I helped create.
I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve always been one of the bad guys, but Ryker…. he’s in a league of his own.
Chapter Seven.
Allegra took in the sunlight and the stunning blue realm that floated high above her, drinking the outdoors with an unquenchable thirst. It was at least six months since she last set foot on the surface and it felt wonderful to inhale the sweetness of fresh air again, especially after drowning in the rank stench of blood and grime for so long. The only thing missing was the green. She longed to see lush fields and leafy trees instead of the concrete ground and steel walls of the old manufacturing plant. But she wouldn’t complain. Every moment outside of the Arena was precious and she was grateful.
In the distance she saw the rows of condominiums and homes, long abandoned and forgotten. It was heartbreaking what happened to the city of Bimini; an entire population poisoned, and all for the vanity of eternal youth.
Twice a year, Ryker allowed handfuls of female slaves to go into the silent city (under the watchful eyes of the guards) and take the morning to scavenge for hidden treasures that were long deserted.
When Ryker took control of Bimini, he had land mines set up all along the outskirts of the city in order to prevent treasure hunters from wandering into his territory (as well as keeping the slaves from escaping). Only a handful of his most trusted guards had electronic GPS coordinates of every single mine, allowing the select few to escort ticket holders, new slaves, and supplies to and from the Arena.
With the city sealed off to outsiders, Ryker had a monopoly on whatever riches remained. Ryker loved collecting almost as much as he loved violence. Jewelery, electronics, and monies were items at the top of his list, and he demanded a certain quota every time he allowed the slaves out to forage in the buildings. If you failed to fill a sack with items of use, you were never allowed to step foot outside and breathe natural air again. The very thought of a lifetime without the sun or t
he sky was too terrible to imagine, and it was this threat that drove Allegra to bloat her sack with whatever Ryker desired.
The guards ushered Allegra into the black van that transported them into Bimini’s living areas. She took a seat next to Maria, who greeted her with a smile. Maria was an older slave, approaching her thirties. Despite the lines of stress drawn on her face, she was still an exquisite beauty with curly blonde locks of hair that dropped down to her shoulders and a vibrant smile that never failed to warm Allegra’s heart.
“Feels good to be out, doesn’t it?” Allegra asked. Maria nodded.
“I feel like my skin is radiating from only five minutes of sun. I must look awfully pale from the lack of natural vitamin D. Those tanning beds Ryker shoves us into just doesn’t cut it for me.”
“You look beautiful, as always,” Allegra replied before turning her attention to the other girl in the van with them. She had never seen this one wandering around the hallways before.
“Are you new here?” Allegra asked. The frail looking girl, with short red hair and cheeks peppered with freckles, was hesitant to respond at first, but finally nodded. Her focus never left the floor of the van.
“I’m sorry honey,” Maria said. “I know it must be hard for you.” She reached out and tried to give the new girl a sympathetic touch but the girl was quick to avoid it, as if Maria’s hands were venom-filled snakes.
“Don’t touch me,” the girl snapped. The guard sitting opposite to them, a pervert named Dallas, laughed. Everything about Dallas seemed crude, including his appearance. His body was shaped like a six-foot barrel and his greying hair was trimmed right down to the scalp of his square head. He often licked at the triangular patch of beard underneath his lower lip while staring at the girls with wide, dark eyes.
“You can bring those hands of yours over here Maria,” Dallas said in a hoarse voice that came straight from the throat. “I don’t mind you touching me, as long as it’s in the right places.”