Riley stopped in her tracks when the hallway opened into a small chamber. She stared at the mangled skeleton lying on the dirt floor. An ax was protruding from its skull.
You need a weapon, Riley coached herself.
Riley’s hands shook as she gripped the handle. She gagged as she rocked the hatchet back and forth, working it free from the bone. Riley couldn’t believe what she’d been reduced to, as she tested the weight of the ax.
I’ve never chopped wood. What the hell am I going to do with this?
Riley hadn’t studied up on offensive moves, or knife work. All the self-defense videos she watched were about getting away from an assailant, once they captured her. She assumed she would only have to defend herself in jail, till the guards arrived. The people she faced, since waking up on Distraho, made back alley muggers and prison bitches look like a litter of cuddly puppies.
So, are you going to just lay down and die? I don’t think so. Man up, Riley.
Riley closed her eyes, and summoned all the anger she’d been repressing, as she thought about what had been done to her and poor Exo. For the first time, Riley was thankful for the little implant goading her on. She might not be a trained fighter, but she had incentive.
Cyprian de Praefectus
Riley didn’t look good as the amphibian guard led her away. Cyprian clenched his fists, repressing the urge to storm after the bastards guarding her. The thought of how frightened she was, and what might be waiting for her, was enraging. Cyprian wouldn’t wish this on his worst enemy. The blood sport was the ultimate greedy perversion. The Topus Overseer needed to die.
“So, you’re really planning on going in there to hunt that female?” Mave asked with a hint of admiration in his voice.
“I paid the credits for the honor, didn’t I.”
“Sounds like fun,” Adeoda grunted begrudgingly.
Cyprian had to ignore the male. Adeoda was just like the other pieces of shit he was competing against. Sick bastards who paid an outrageous sum for the chance to torment a tiny female. There was no way the general was going to let them get near her, any of them.
“Here. Take my bandolier.” Vintor pulled Cyprian aside to give him the collection of weapons.
“Thanks. Hold my disrupter,” Cyprian replied as he strapped on Vintor’s weapons.
This was a fight to the death, but only primitive weapons were allowed. Beyond that, there were no rules.
“You know what you’re going to have to do when you reach Riley, right?” Vintor asked under his breath.
Cyprian glared at Vintor and repressed the rumble in his chest. He didn’t need a reminder of the twisted rules of the game. His hands were tied.
“Sorry. See you on the other side, brother” Vintor said solemnly.
Cyprian nodded to his friend, then joined the group departing for the coliseum. He studied the other competitors as they walked. Many of the males looked like they had no business participating in a competition like this. Cyprian never went after the weak, but in this case, he’d make an exception. The general glanced at the male with sharp quills covering his head and back, then panned to a warrior with a large pincer for a hand, and a barbed, segmented tail. His eyes then landed on the bony armored male near the head of the group. Cyprian wasn’t surprised in the least to see Aculus.
They group was heavily guarded to keep the participants from starting the fun before they arrived at the arena. But a few of the contestants were too stupid to figure that out.
“I should cut your throat right here,” the large gray male blustered as he rushed a slimy squatty figure.
This was the same male that attempted to start a fight with Cyprian in the viewing gallery. The Verrater guards surrounded the moron, knocking him back, before his knife found its mark.
“Save it,” the lead guard hissed.
Cyprian heard the excited din before they crossed beneath the arches leading into the massive arena. One by one the guards escorted the contestants to a private balcony along the mezzanine, as their name was announced to the boisterous crowd.
“When the siren sounds, descend the steps and try not to die,” the Verrater instructed Cyprian.
The combat field was the size of a rota racecourse. The dirt floor was peppered with stone obstacles that looked like ruins of buildings. The arena was lined with portals, spaced a dozen yards apart.
They must lead to the next level.
The auction house had to be making a killing. There were at least a thousand seats in the coliseum. Row after row was filling fast with spectators, all eager to witness the carnage that would ensue. Cyprian didn’t know who was more reprehensible; the ones who wanted to bludgeon each other to death, or those who paid to watch.