Little Dead Monsters

by Kieran Song

  “I’m sorry,” Dog said. It was the only words he could think of saying.

  “Maria’s dead because of you,” Allegra began, “and now you’ve doomed us back to the Arena. We’re both going to die in there. Was it worth it? Was going back and killing Ryker worth it?”

  Dog had no reply for her.

  The next thing she said was worse than any wound he ever felt. “I can’t stand to look at you anymore.”

  BOOK FIVE: FINALE

  Interlude:

  From the Journal of Edmund Glaber:

  December 12, 2007

  As I sit behind the cage, listening to the roars of the crowd from the pit, I realized how terrifying it is to be a prisoner in the Arena, waiting for death. They allowed me my journal for some reason, perhaps granting me one last piece of comfort before they force me to fight.

  Ryker had discovered my plan to escape. I’m still perplexed as to how that was possible. Not a living soul knew about my plans and the only evidence of my intent was written in this journal, which I kept on me at all times. However, I shouldn’t be so surprised. It is Ryker after all and he has ways of discovering your dirtiest secrets.

  Two nights ago, I had decided to leave a few hours before dawn and I was convinced everyone was asleep at the time. Everything had gone according to plan as I drove through the city’s long deserted roads. It was only when I reached the secret transport route that I realized the trouble I was in.

  Ryker sat there on the hood of the van, waiting for me. He looked tired and his entire body was slumped over, like a man defeated. I stepped out of my vehicle and greeted him with a smile, pretending everything was normal.

  “What are you doing out here so late?” I asked him.

  “Don’t,” Ryker said. “There’s no point lying to me anymore. I know you’re leaving the Arena.”

  I was silent.

  “Just tell me why?” Ryker said. “Tell me, and you’re free to go.”

  “You’ll let me leave, just like that?” I asked him.

  “Yes. But if you make the decision to leave, then that’s it. You are no longer welcome in my city. You’ll be a trespasser here and if I catch you anywhere near Bimini, I’ll throw you into the pit, just like all the other slaves.”

  I didn’t think twice about it. “I’m leaving Ryker.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t take it here anymore,” I replied. “What you built here is a monstrosity and if I watch another kid get bludgeoned to death, I will puke.”

  “I made you a king in this place,” Ryker said.

  “You made me an accessory to the murder of children.” Saying those words aloud sparked something inside of me and I felt pure rage. “Children! For Christ’s sake, they’re just kids. Have you lost your mind and your humanity?”

  “I built this Arena for us.”

  “No!” I shouted. “Don’t associate me with any of this. The biggest regret I ever had in life was meeting you.”

  Ryker looked at me like a wounded animal. “So I guess your mind is made up then.”

  I nodded. “I need to leave Bimini. Everyday I’m here, it suffocates me.”

  “Go then,” he said.

  I had no other words for Ryker, not even a goodbye. I walked back to my van but just before I got in, Ryker said something to me that felt like a knife in the gut.

  “I reprogrammed your GPS,” he said. “Like I promised, you’re free to go, but you won’t know where all the mines are.”

  “You son of a bitch,” I cursed him.

  “You were like a brother to me, you know that?” And those were the last words he said to me before another van pulled up beside us.

  The guards dragged me into the dungeons.

  They took all my possessions, save this journal, which I now write my last entry. I overheard one of the guards saying that I will be facing some kid named Tiberius.

  I won’t put up a fight. I deserve whatever fate I suffer in the pit. Instead I’ll look Ryker in the eye and tell him that one day, he’ll join me in hell, as I’m sure that’s where we’re both going.

  I hear Tiberius’s name announced over the speakers and the sounds of approaching footsteps tells me that my time is up.

  I can only hope my journal is read by someone who can understand that I am truly sorry for this hell I’ve helped create. My death tonight will allow someone else to live for another day.

  I’ve outstayed my welcome in this world long ago and I’ve given up all my rights to live when I had held the gun for the first time and fired it at an innocent civilian.

  May someone out there forgive me, because I know that I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

  Chapter Thirty-Four.

  An empty glass went hurling into the wall, shattering into pieces. Allegra wondered if Ryker was going to break anything else during his rage-fuelled tantrum.

  “Clean it up,” Ryker said, gesturing to Allegra. He turned his attention back to Tiberius and shook his head. “Dog deserves to die. He killed four of my guards, broke the jaw of another, tried to escape, and kidnapped Allegra in the process. He needs to be punished.”

  “He’s still your champion,” Tiberius said. “Killing him will piss off a lot of your audience.”

  “What kind of message does that send to the rest of the slaves here? That it’s fine to start killing my hired help? That you can just walk up and spit in my face without expecting any punishment?”

  Tiberius said nothing.

  Ryker scrunched his face. “No. I need to send a message. I am the master here. My laws are absolute. I rule this Arena.”

  Allegra tried not to scoff. The only thing Ryker ruled was flies and shit.

  “What are you going to do?” Tiberius asked.

  “You ever hear the tale of Spartacus?” Ryker said.

  Tiberius shook his head. “I was never one for history.”

  “I’ll get to the gist of it then. Spartacus was a fighter like yourself, a slave to the Roman masters. He went into stadium-filled arenas and fought to the death, all for the glory of Rome,” Ryker explained. “You know, your name has Roman origins to it as well.”

  “My name is just a name,” Tiberius said. “And what you’re describing are Gladiators.”

  “You’re not all that uneducated it seems,” Ryker mused. “The tale truly begins when Spartacus decides to revolt. He takes down his masters with his army of slaves and starts pillaging the nobles of Rome. Crassius, a Roman general and politician, manages to put an end to the slave rebellion, killing Spartacus and crucifying all the traitorous slaves.”

  “And the moral of this story?”

  “There are two. First, stop the rebellion before it can happen. The second, punishment must be severe,” Ryker said.

  “Tell me you’re not thinking of crucifying Dog,” Tiberius objected.

  “No, but I can crucify others,” Ryker said.

  “Who?”

  “Three slaves who are no longer useful,” Ryker said. “Maybe two lame fighters and an old female slave. The message must be made loud and clear.”

  Allegra couldn’t contain herself. The thought of any more dying was more than she could handle. “No!” she screamed. Ryker’s anger was immediate and brutal. He threw another empty glass at her, which narrowly missed her head, and it smashed against the wall like the first one.

  “What did you say?” Ryker screeched.

  Allegra tried to regain her composure. “Please, don’t do this. You’ll just be throwing away money. It’s not worth it.”

  “The girl has a point,” Tiberius said. “Don’t let your anger cloud your decisions. Everyone here helps make the Arena run smoothly. Your slaves are important cogs in the wheel.”

  Ryker thought about it for a moment, and then turned to Allegra, his face no longer one of anger. He smiled at her.

  “You really think I need broken fighters and a useless whore in the Arena?” Ryker asked.

  Allegra nodded zealously. “Yes.” she pleaded.
“Everyone’s very important to this place.” Allegra was on the verge of tears. She tried to remain calm but the desperation in her voice must have betrayed her.

  “Don’t cry sweet thing,” Ryker said as he walked over to her and gently brushed her face. “I’ve heard what you said.”

  Was Ryker showing mercy? Allegra scarcely believed it.

  And then Ryker spoke to her with a song in his voice. “I can buy two new boys and a fresh slave girl. The others are just a waste of space anyways. Crucifixion it is.”

  Allegra dropped to her knees and screamed and cried. The memories of all the people she failed to save flooded her like dark waters and she breathed it in. She was drowning.

  Tiberius stood up from his seat and touched Ryker firmly on the shoulder.

  “Don’t do this,” Tiberius said. “It’s not necessary.”

  Ryker brushed his hand away and stared at the man, who was twice his size, with contempt.

  “Don’t ever question me again. I like you Tiberius. You helped me capture Dog, but remember that I am your master and you are still my slave,” he hissed. “Doubt me one more time and you’ll never see her again.”

  Tiberius took a step back and stared at the ground like a scolded child. Finally, he nodded.

  “Now to prevent history from repeating itself, I need to stop this quasi-rebellion. I need Dog destroyed,” Ryker said. “Are you the man to do it?”

  Tiberius made no reply.

  “Are you deaf? I asked you, can you defeat Dog in the Arena?”

  “I don’t know,” Tiberius replied.

  Ryker bared his teeth. “You disappoint me today Tiberius. When Dog goes into the Arena, I need to know he will not come out alive.” He then turned his attention to Allegra.

  “Stop your crying and clean the floor,” he ordered. “Your sniveling disgusts me.”

  Allegra stared at the broken glasses. Their fragments lay scattered across the ground, broken, like her.

  They tossed Dog back into his private quarters and he waited for Maria’s ghost to come, like all the others. Her death was his fault, he knew that much was true, and she deserved an apology from him. It was something she could hold onto while she roamed these hallways as a tortured specter.

  Instead, it was Ryker who came along with a dozen guards, guns drawn and pointed.

  “Hello champ,” Ryker said. He pointed to the picture of the moon on the wall. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

  Dog wanted to pound his fists into Ryker’s crooked face but he held himself back.

  “What are you going to do with us?” Dog asked.

  “You have quite the list of offences,” Ryker began. “Do you know how much shit you caused during your little escape?”

  Dog said nothing.

  “The proper thing is to have you tortured. I’ve grown fond of this thing called flaying as of late. Basically they peel the skin right off your body. Nasty sounding, isn’t it?”

  “Then do it already. But leave Allegra alone,” Dog said.

  Ryker laughed. “You know, I’ve asked her a few times what happened out there, but she refused to say a word. At the very mention of your name, she gets angry, so I can only assume what you said about kidnapping her was true,” Ryker said. “Luckily you weren’t the complete animal I believed you to be and her cherry is still fresh. I’m not going to punish her Dog. I may be cruel but I’m fair. So instead, I’m going to punish you. For starters, you’ve been in these nice cushy quarters long enough. It’s time we relocate you somewhere more suitable for a Dog like yourself.”

  “Do whatever you want,” Dog said as he rose from the bed.

  “I’m a merciful man,” Ryker said. “But you’ve pissed me off far too much. You will die in two weeks, that I can promise you. And for the last few days of your life, I will make sure you are miserable. All the luxuries I have given you—gone. Your daily workouts—gone. The luxurious food you’ve been eating—gone. The only thing you have left is the stench from your own filth.”

  “Just do whatever it is you’re going to do. I don’t care anymore.”

  They threw Dog into a seven-foot by seven-foot room and sealed it behind them, isolating him in complete darkness.

  That night he dreamt of something terrible. He was in his tiny concrete prison and there was a broken window, which shed a bit of light into the cramped room. Dog looked through the cracked glass and saw a figure in the distance, blanketed by a thick fog. It was a woman wearing a bone-white mask.

  She stood by a tree that was charred black and released a sweet rotting stench; the smell of death. As the fog began to clear, Dog could see the mask more clearly now. Traced in blood was the image of a skull.

  Dog called out to her but found that his mouth was gone, replaced by a flap of blank skin. He tried punching through the glass of the window but every single time, the glass rebuilt itself as quickly as he shattered it. His fists and forearms were torn into crimson ribbons.

  Dog bled in silence and watched as the masked woman faded away into the midst until she vanished.

  Then he woke.

  He was still in the confinements of his pitch-black cell and the scent of death was still fresh in his nostrils. All he could think about was Allegra’s last words to him.

  I can’t stand to look at you anymore.

  Dog lived in that darkness for what seemed like an eternity, her torturous words running through his head over and over again.

  Chapter Thirty-Five.

  It took two full days before the three slaves died from the crucifixion. They were all people Allegra knew and though she never felt as close to them as she did with Maria, their deaths depressed and enraged her nonetheless.

  “That took long enough,” Ryker had said. “Another day of their whimpering and I would have shot them myself.”

  Ryker had the entire thing done inside the pit. He figured the slaves would expire prior to the weeks end, enough time for his guards to take them down from their crosses before the next set of fights.

  Allegra ventured nowhere near the pit during this time. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stand the site of it.

  The look on the faces of the slaves that did visit the scene told the entire story — they had died suffering.

  Ryker wanted to send a message, showing the slaves his authority was to be feared, and he succeeded. Everyone was terrified now, including some of his own guards.

  While the crosses were erected in the pit, Allegra became a recluse and spent most of the time holed up in her quarters. In the beginning she was depressed by the entire thing, blaming Dog and then herself for Maria’s death along with the crucified slaves. But slowly, with each passing minute, she began building her anger and desire for revenge against Ryker, like stacking bricks to a house, only her house was constructed out of the desires for vengeance.

  Finally she decided where Dog had failed, she would succeed. She would kill Ryker herself.

  The rusty scissors were still sharp and had the ability to kill a man if required. Allegra often used them to cut stitches and bandages but today, she considered using it as a weapon. If she was quick enough, she could bury it in Ryker’s throat before he suspected a single a thing.

  “You can’t be weak,” Allegra said to herself. “Be strong for once damnit.”

  The fight between Dog and the ‘mystery opponent’ was still a week away and if all the rumours were true, Tiberius would be the one to face Dog, leaving Ryker vulnerable.

  Sure, there were other guards present to protect Ryker, but none of them had Tiberius’s speed or reflexes. Three seconds, that’s all it took. She could kill the Goblin before the guards had a chance to shoot her. If her life were to end in this place anyway, it wouldn’t be as a coward.

  Maria…

  Allegra had spent the entire week plotting Ryker’s assassination. However she thought of two stumbling blocks that could potentially ruin her plan.

  The first was hiding the scissors. The guards were always th
orough. Too thorough, in fact, when they searched her prior to entering Ryker’s office. She needed a place to hide the scissors that wouldn’t be discovered.

  The other was her will to live. A long time ago, Allegra had written a list of things she wanted to do once she gained her freedom: Take a bath, go for a long walk in the sun, read a book, and cook herself a meal. All things normal, dignified people did. These simple dreams carried her through the years of slavery and the constant threat of being raped. When it came time to plunge the scissors into Ryker’s neck, thus ending both their lives, would she be able to do it? Or would her desire to live be strong enough to prevent her from following through with her plan?

  Allegra could feel Death’s eyes upon her. She longed to leave this place and sought God’s eternal embrace and she prayed that when the time came, she would be ready.

  Chapter Thirty-Six.

  Was he dreaming or awake? It was hard to tell, when everything was pitch black. He sat up and felt the ache in his back.

  He was definitely awake. The pain told him so.

  In the distance, he heard the chanting of his name, loud and passionate — it was what woke him in the first place.

  The footsteps echoed down the hallway and his first thought was, it was time to eat. When they opened the iron door, the light burned his retinas and he squinted, leaving a tiny aperture just enough to see.

  “Big day champ,” one of the guards said. Behind him stood Chatterbox who mumbled something through the wired contraption holding his jaw in place.

  “Thanks,” Dog said as he stepped out of the hole. He staggered a bit as he waited for the blood to flow back into his legs. He looked at his arms and frowned. Though he exercised as much as he could in the darkness, it was not enough. He had lost quite a bit of muscle.

  His back was sore from sleeping on the cold floor and he felt unbalanced from the poor circulation to his legs.