by Tillie Cole
I nodded, then sat on the floor. Luka and Zaal left the cell. I felt someone hovering in the doorway and looked up. Valentin was watching me with suspicious eyes. His arms were folded over his chest. I waited for him to speak. When he did, he said, “My sister has had nothing but pain and heartache in her life.” He pointed to his chest, then said, “I failed to save her. I couldn’t secure her freedom.” His strict and forceful voice softened, then cracked with emotion. I saw his blue eyes glisten with tears, as he said in a husky voice, “She deserves someone to love her. Really love her. Treat her right. Treat her like the printsessa she is. Inessa deserves a warrior. A champion that will protect her and keep her safe.”
I paused, then replied, “I know.”
Valentin’s eyes narrowed, then he darted to his cell. My mind raced with a mixture of excitement and fear. Because although many obstacles stood in our way, freedom was close. Inessa had to hold on so we could be together.
* * *
An hour or two passed, then a guard walked in to take me to the tunnel. My muscles were weakened and my body was tired. But I was energized more than ever before.
I wouldn’t lose this fight.
I jumped to my feet, and the guard handed over my Kindjals. They had been removed from my cell when Master took Inessa away. I held them in my hands as the guard held the gun to my head. When the cell door opened, I looked across to the other cells. Luka, Zaal, and Valentin watched me go.
This time I didn’t jog to the tunnel; I sprinted. I sprinted all the way, pushing my legs to their absolute limit until I burst from the mouth and launched myself, Kindjals high, into the pit. My opponent charged, swinging his scythe, but I didn’t play his game. Ducking the curved blade, I sent not one, but both of my long Russian Cossack daggers, one after the other, flying through his stomach until their sharp blades sliced through his spine. My opponent separated, torso and legs now sliced apart. As they thudded into the sand, I turned and ran back to the cells.
Luka, Zaal, and Valentin nodded their heads in approval as I reentered my cell, coated in my opponent’s blood. I threw my Kindjals to the ground and righted my bed. I slumped down to the mattress and forced myself to close my eyes. When the tournament was done tonight, I would convene with the remaining champions and plot out tomorrow’s riot.
Tomorrow, when I walked out of this place.
With moy prekrasnyy by my side.
* * *
Sleep hadn’t come easy. My mind was clogged with what today would bring. But most of all I had pictured Inessa with Master. I had pictured her in pain, tied with rope between two posts. I felt sick when I thought of her being lashed.
I pushed myself off the floor, up and down, as I finished my push-ups. I needed my body warm and prepped. My muscles protested, pushed too far over the past few weeks. But I knew they had in them one more day.
The most important day I would ever live.
This day would bring only one of two possible outcomes: liberty or death. I faced both with a smile on my face.
The sound of Luka, Zaal, and Valentin warming up echoed outside my cell. Luka with his bladed knuckle-dusters, Zaal with his black sais, and Valentin with his unpowered steel picanas.
I replayed last night in my head. The plan. The rules and the show we must perform until it was time to strike. Until Luka gave the signal. Viktor and the rebel Wraiths would ensure everyone moved into position as we fought. I shook my head at that news. At the knowledge that not all of the guards were true Wraiths. That, like me and many others, they had been forced into servitude by Master. The rebels, as we fought, would take out as many Wraiths as they could. Master and all his guests would be in the crowd, watching the four-man fight. Unbeknownst to them, the doors would be sealed. There would be no escape.
Not for a single one of them.
The sound of footsteps approached the champions’ quarters. I detected three, two heavier than the third. I jumped to my feet, stretching my muscles, when there was movement at my cell door.
I didn’t need to look to see which fucker stood there. I closed my eyes and forced myself to keep from charging the bars and killing him on the spot. I held in my thirst to kill.
Just barely.
“901,” Master’s voice said, the sound of it slitting down my spine like shards of broken glass.
I turned and glared at the soon to be fallen king of the pit. I was on a countdown to slay.
He smiled at me. It was proud. It was victorious. He stood close to the bars, a guard and a chiri flanking him. The chiri held an injection pack in her hands. Her head was bowed, and I knew this was the female that Maya had told me about last night. The one that was sent to drug me.
“So,” Master said coldly, “you made it to the final?” I didn’t answer. My jaw ached at how hard it was clenched. He laughed, then pointed at the other cells behind him. “I never really doubted you could. After all, you’re the greatest fighter the Blood Pit has ever produced.” Master dropped his hand and said, “But you won’t be after today.”
Master clicked his fingers, and the guard cautiously opened the cell door. He kept his gun aimed at my head as Master pushed the chiri inside. The older woman stumbled in and quickly righted herself. She silently opened her bag and made quick work of retrieving the needle filled with the drugs that would make me weak.
As she held it, Master raised his hand, signaling for her to pause. The chiri did as commanded. I glared at Master, and he shrugged nonchalantly. “You didn’t think I would allow you to win, did you? Not after you pathetically fell in love with my High Mona and decided to covet what was mine.”
I lifted my chin, refusing to show any remorse for falling in love with Inessa. Master’s face lit with challenge at my defiance. He shook his head, tutting loudly like he was reprimanding a child. “You see, 901, this has always been your problem. Even as a child, you never quite conformed. You never took a mona. You never built friendships with the other fighters. You lived alone.”
Master slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks. Shrugging, he added, “And now you will die alone.” Master’s taunting face fell. Then a cruel, sadistic smile appeared on his face. “As will she.” My blood ran cold when he added, “Alone. Racked with pain. Slowly, in the most cruel manner possible.”
I heard a livid roar coming from Valentin’s cell. Master raised an eyebrow as he looked that way. When he faced me again, he said, “You fucked up, 901. If you had obeyed me from the beginning, you could have been great. You could have gained your freedom if you had simply played by the rules.”
“I wouldn’t have,” I replied in a low hoarse voice.
Master tipped his head to the side. “No?”
Balling my fists, I said, “No. Because there is no such thing with you.” I pointed out of the cell. “You tell these champions that the winner will gain his freedom, but we know it isn’t true.” Master’s face froze. “Freedom doesn’t exist in your world. You exploit. You use and you bring pain. You strip people of their choice and punish them if any morsel of happiness is found. You force the males to kill. You force the monebi to fuck, and you force the chiri to exist in the shadows.” I inhaled deeply, and continued, “You delude yourself into thinking you are our Master. No soul in this place respects you. You have no honor. No female that you force to take your cock welcomes it unless forced or on drugs.” I took a step closer, then another. Mere inches from his face, I said, “Inessa was repulsed by you. Every time you took her, she hated it. She would tell me how her skin crawled when you touched her. She would tell me how she avoided your eyes as you stroked her hair and rutted above her like a desperate fool.” I watched as Master’s face filled with red. He was holding his breath, his anger rising to boiling point.
Allowing myself to smile, I leaned forward and emphasized, “But with me, she wanted it all.” I lifted my hand and showed my palm. “She wanted me to touch her.” I held out my arms. “She wanted me to hold her.” Reaching down, I gripped my cock and locked onto his s
tare. “And she loved me freely. Without the drugs, she gave herself to me … simply because I was me. No demands, no coercion.”
A part of me felt sick talking of Inessa this way. But what I said was true. We never fucked. With us it was something else entirely. And I could see my words striking Master as effectively as if I were slicing into his bare flesh.
Delivering the final blow, I announced proudly, “And every time you took her after me, she told me she would picture my face hovering above her. She would imagine it was me that was filling her.”
Master couldn’t take it anymore. Slamming his hand on the metal bars, he snarled, “I will watch you die today, 901. I will watch you die slowly and painfully in the sand, where you’ve killed so many others. I will laugh as you draw your last breath, then spit on your corpse when your blood has drained away.” Stepping back as if he hadn’t just exploded with rage, he promised, “Then I will end 152. I will strip her flesh in your honor. Her slow death will be down to you. She will die hating you. She will die knowing that wanting you was the stupidest thing she could have ever done.”
Master flicked his wrist at the chiri. I stood resolute, furious eyes fixed on the male that had imprisoned me from a child as the needle broke my skin. I watched as he smiled triumphantly.
He had no idea what was coming his way.
Sticking to the plan, I closed my eyes when the chiri stepped away. I swayed on my feet, reaching out to grip the wall as the liquid traveled through my veins. When I opened my eyes, I saw Master smile.
Turning on his heel, he said, “I’ll be in my seat, watching you take your last breath. Unlike every other match, I’m going to enjoy you dying quickly, 901. No games this time. Just death. I should have done it years ago.”
With that, Master walked away, his guard following behind. When he was out of sight, I straightened, feeling the drug infuse my muscles. But this wasn’t the drug that Master had demanded I receive. It was adrenaline to keep my body strong and able while we slaughtered them all.
The chiri female looked up at me. She met my eyes and a smile pulled on her lips. Closing in, she said, “We are all ready.”
I nodded in acknowledgment. Just as she was about to leave, she said, “Master has taken every one of the chiri females against our will. We are not so different from your Inessa. When you fight today, you fight for us all. When you stop his heart, you free our hearts. We are with you, Champion. We are all behind you. The fighters. The chiri. Anyone who is enslaved. We will follow your lead and we will die if we must. Today the Blood Pit falls.”
“Thank you,” I rasped. The turncoat guard that had been watching us since yesterday let her out. The chiri rushed away, I assumed to take her position. My cell door had been left open and I entered the hallway. In seconds, Luka, Zaal, and Valentin walked out, too. We were all dressed the same: bare chested in the obligatory black pants. I could see the adrenaline pumping in their veins. Our muscles were tense and our veins protruded from the need to kill.
I met each of their eyes, but locked a few seconds longer on Valentin’s. He inhaled through his nostrils, then declared, “For Inessa.”
“For Inessa,” I repeated.
Viktor approached us, and Luka placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are we ready?”
Viktor nodded. “Everyone is in place. You have about seven minutes to fill before the doors will be sealed and the fighters will be in place.”
Luka patted Viktor on the back. “You give me the signal”—Luka looked to us all—“then we attack.”
I rocked on my feet and gripped my Kindjals tighter.
“Are we all clear on the plan?” Luka asked.
“Yes,” we each replied.
Luka bowed his head and his eyes closed. I watched as he mouthed something to himself. When he lifted his head, eyes open, he said, “This, everything that we have been through, endured, and survived, ends tonight. Each of us has his own story. We have our own versions of hell. But they all stem from this place. They all exist because of one male.” Luka didn’t name Master; we all knew who he meant. Luka met each of our gazes and said, “We have fought for freedom, but true freedom doesn’t exist until Arziani is dead and this place is razed.”
Grunts and heavy breathing came from us all as we envisioned what that would be like. Luka pounded his chest with balled fists. “Freedom comes at a cost. If any of us falls, the others continue. And we don’t fucking stop until every last bastard in the place is dead.” He curled his lips and raised his voice. “Our bodies will ache, we will tire, but we don’t stop!”
I jumped from foot to foot, hearing the crowd’s volume beginning to rise in the arena. Luka glanced toward the tunnel. Facing us again, he said, “We all have females we must return to. Keep them in your heart, keep their faces in the forefront of your mind. We kill for them. We kill for the future children we will have. Children that will know nothing of this hell. Children who won’t face danger because of the deeds of their fathers.”
Images of Inessa, full with child, played in my mind, pushing my determination to the highest possible level. By the look on Valentin and Zaal’s faces, I knew they were imagining the same.
The sound of a whistle cut through to our group, and Luka turned on his heel. He brought his hands down to his sides and looked back to say, “I’ll see you in the pit.” Luka ran forward toward the tunnel, his back muscles bunching as he entered the arena, spoiling for the fight. A second whistle blew, and Zaal followed suit, his long dark hair resting on his back. Valentin moved beside me and said, “When he’s dead, you get my sister. Don’t wait for the rest of us, just get her out.” I nodded just as the third whistle blew and the scarred male sprinted to the pit. I heard the crowd roar louder when he entered.
The living monster of their nightmares.
I walked to the mouth of the tunnel and stared at the light coming from the pit beyond. I had traveled this tunnel many times before, thousands of males had fallen at my feet in this sand. But as I heard the crowd screaming for blood … when I caught sight of the three champions circling the ring … I knew this was different.
This would be the last time my feet pounded on the sand-covered stone. It would be the last time my blood spilled on this sand.
This was the end, but …
… It could also be a beginning.
As the fourth whistle blew, my feet led me forth. And with every crunch of sand under my feet, I recited two names: “Inessa, Ilya. Inessa, Ilya. Inessa, Ilya.” As I trudged toward the open mouth of the tunnel, playing the part of a heavily drugged male, my voice built in volume. As I broke through into the light, focused on the pit, I screamed out, “INESSA!” as Zaal ran my way, slicing across my stomach with his sai. Slowly lifting my blade, I swung back. The crowd roared when I missed. I purposely missed. My gaze drifted to Luka and Valentin, who were going through the motions of a fight.
A fist smacked across my lip. When I spun, Zaal had struck. Using the blunt handle of my blade, I struck him, too. Minutes and minutes passed; we hit and fought. Blood spilled from mouths and noses, surface wounds. But no one had fallen.
We were giving the crowd a fight, whipping them into a frenzy.
Luka ducked under my arm, and as he did, he shouted, “Ready!”
My heart slammed into a new beat, one that was about to get its kill. I faced Valentin, slicing a cut on his arm with my blade. Then just as Valentin moved to strike back, Luka threw back his head and roared out a deafening bellow.
In one practiced move, the four of us closed in, shifting to face the bloodthirsty crowd. The people watching glanced to one another, questioning what was happening. As I raised my blades, Luka, Zaal, and Valentin raised their weapons, too. I then searched for one male only.
Master.
Catching his confused gaze, I smiled, blood from my lips rolling down my chin. Master saw my smile, but before he could signal for his precious guards to come to his aid, the exit doors all opened. The footsteps of the fighters sounded like a stampede
as they rushed through the doors, war cries screamed from their throats.
The crowd began to move, scurrying like the scared rats they were. But the fighters were fueled with rage, minds clear after God knows how long.
They clearly felt the need to kill.
Master’s guards charged at the fighters, but the rebel Wraiths turned on them first. The sound of machine guns joined the cacophony of terrified screams and victorious shouts. Luka raised his fist into the air as guards charged our way. When he ordered the attack, the four of us charged forward, weapons held high, rage in our hearts. My vision clouded with red as I swung. My blades cut through flesh and bone. One by one, I cut through the guards. The screams and the tinny scent of blood grew strong with every passing second. When I glanced up at the stands, some of the crowd had tried to fight back. The warriors cut them down. Monsters preying on the weak.
Finishing off the final guard in my path, I then looked up to Master’s seat. Two guards, including the head guard, shielded him from view.
My blood scalded my veins, flooding every muscle. My legs began to move with greater strength. I pushed my muscles to the very edge as I leapt into the stands. I jumped up the seats, slaying anyone in my path. The high guard didn’t see me coming until it was too late. He fired his gun, but the bullet only grazed my arm. His face paled as my blade pierced his heart. I kicked his dying body to the ground, his lifeless limbs rolling down the stairs by my side. The other guard ran, his loyalty to Master forgotten at the sight of my unleashed wrath. But before he could escape, I sliced the tip of my blades across his hamstrings. He fell to the floor. Making sure Master watched, I slit his guard’s throat, kicking his back until he smashed his face on the floor.
Then I turned. I turned, my torso blanketed with the blood of the many I had already killed. When I locked gazes with Master, I smiled. His face paled and he tried to search for a way out. I shook my head, telling him silently that there was nowhere to go.
Reaching forward, I gripped the collar of his jacket and wrenched him close. A terrified cry left his throat as I did, then I spat in his face. I dragged him down the stairs, pulling him down until we reached the pit. My heart thudded with excitement when I heard his perfectly polished shoes crunch on the bloodstained sand of the pit. Around me, the volume of the riot quieted.