by N M Thorn
“Master, you need to get rid of him,” drawled the werewolf. “It’ll be hard to break this man. He’ll never be what you need him to be. Give me your command and I’ll break his neck right now.”
“No,” said Mr. Kogan, his voice shaking with fury. “I didn’t tell you anything about breaking him, did I? I told you to train him, so he was ready for the captive events next week. And what did you do?” He pointed at Gunz. “Now, it’ll take a week for him just to heal and be ready to return to fighting!”
“I’m sorry, master, I misunderstood you,” pleaded the werewolf, going down to his knees. With shock, Gunz realized that the huge monster was scared of the tiny, skinny man in front of him.
“Master,” said Gunz, almost choking on this word. Mr. Kogan turned back to him, observing him with curiosity. “It’s not Sensei’s fault, master, please forgive him. I did provoke him a little.” The werewolf turned his head, gaping at Gunz bug-eyed. “I’m fine, master, and I’m ready to continue training if you allow me, sir.”
“Are you sure?” asked Mr. Kogan, squatting down in front of him and gently touching his face where the dark spots of bruises slowly started to swell. “You look like you’re about to collapse.”
Gunz nodded, his body responding to his every move with a jolt of pain. “I’m fine. I can continue training.”
Mr. Kogan rose, observing his captive fighters with severity. “I don’t want any harm to come to this fighter,” he said pointing at Gunz. “No pain, unless it’s necessary for his training, should come his way. And definitely no bodily injuries. Did I teach you all nothing?”
“Yes, master,” replied the werewolf. “May I ask you for his controller? I need to be able to control his magic if I want to teach him how to use it effectively during the event.”
Gunz gave him a mortified stare but was relieved when he saw Mr. Kogan shaking his head.
“All along, his collar was set to zero, meaning he had full control of his magic,” explained Mr. Kogan, iron notes in his voice. “Yet, I didn’t see him use his magic to fight your cowardly attack, did I? Eleven trained fighters against one and none of you got hurt by his magic. I assure you, he’s in complete control and handling him with the controller is absolutely unnecessary. Just tell him how much of his magic you want him to use and he’ll comply with your request. Am I correct, Gunz?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Gunz but then caught Mr. Kogan’s arched stare and added, “Master.”
Mr. Kogan left without saying anything else. As soon as he was gone from the training room, the werewolf approached Gunz and took one knee in front of him.
“I don’t think you can train today,” he said, carefully probing Gunz’s ribs with his fingers.
Gunz winced and chuckled. “No, I don’t think so either.”
“Then why did you lie to the master?” asked the werewolf straightening up.
“I didn’t want you to suffer,” replied Gunz quietly. “I didn’t want master to punish you or the fighters, so, I lied. Will that get me in trouble with you?”
“No,” answered the werewolf and turned to the other fighters who stood quietly behind him. “Help him up. Gently. And let him lie down on the mats. He can rest until the end of training today.”
After training was over, Gunz barely made it to his room. The fighters couldn’t leave the underground facility and he had no help. He walked into the room and shed his blood-soaked uniform off. Standing just in his underwear, he surveyed the damage. His body was covered in angry-looking blemishes and lacerations.
His nose was broken, and dark bruises spread under both his eyes. His lips were split and still bleeding. He quickly reset his broken nose, stifling the scream. He leaned on the dresser panting as pain wreaked havoc in his head.
The door into his room opened and Mr. Kogan walked in. Gunz turned to him and sighed, dropping his arms at his sides. He wasn’t dressed, but it didn’t bother him. At the moment he was too tired and hurt to worry about that.
“Mr. Kogan, please tell me,” he said quietly, “since I wear the collar on my neck, is the basic courtesy of knocking before entering no longer extended to me… master?”
“Gunz…” Mr. Kogan rubbed his forehead tiredly. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I should have knocked first, but I was worried about you and wanted to make sure that you were okay.” He fell silent for a moment. “And you don’t have to call me master when it’s just us here.”
“Sure,” replied Gunz, wishing for this man to be gone so he could finally lie down. “I’m fine. I’ll be ready for training in the morning and in one week you can start booking me for the fights in the captive circles.”
Mr. Kogan stepped closer and ran his fingers over a deep laceration on his chest, muttering something under his breath. “Do you need me to send a doctor to your room?” he asked after a moment. “You may need stitches.”
“No.” Gunz backed away from him. “I just need a good night’s sleep. I heal fast. Your bottom-line is not going to suffer because of this little squabble. I trust you’re not going to punish your Sensei or any of your captive fighters?”
“Punish? Of course not!” exclaimed Mr. Kogan, seemingly terrified by the thought.
“Are you saying you never punish your captives?” asked Gunz, unable to hide his disbelief.
“I do reprimand them if they deserve it, but I never resort to physical punishment, Gunz,” said Mr. Kogan. “Why in the world would you think otherwise?”
“Because of the look on your Sensei’s face when he thought he angered you,” replied Gunz flatly.
“I purchased him a year ago from an abusive master,” replied Mr. Kogan with a dismissive shrug. “I guess he still didn’t get over his past experience. Well, if you don’t need my help, I’ll leave you alone so you can rest. Good night, Gunz.”
Purchased from an abusive master? This conversation was rubbing him the wrong way. Mr. Kogan talked about his captive fighters like they were nothing more than his pets, animals who were there for his entertainment and could be easily disposed of at any time. Yes, most of them weren’t human. And Gunz had not forgotten that the majority of the captive fighters were the true monsters whom he often had to fight on the street of his city. Nevertheless, humans or monsters, no one should have this kind of power over another being and their supernatural origins didn’t give anyone the right to treat them as debilitated pets.
As soon as Mr. Kogan walked out, Gunz groaned and bent forward, wrapping his arms around his ribs. All this time he had been suppressing his pain, struggling not to show how he truly felt. Slowly, he managed to get to his bed and lay down.
“Mishka, are you still with me?” he whispered, brushing his tattoo with his fingers.
The wyvern manifested above him and sighed audibly. “Almighty Fire, what the hell is wrong with you, Salamander,” he yelled in a high-pitch voice. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re enjoying the pain. And now you’re going to tell me you can’t revert and heal yourself!”
“I can’t revert and heal myself,” repeated Gunz dutifully. “I was wondering if you could share some fire—”
“That’s it!” shouted Mishka, hopping up and down above Gunz. “I had enough of this. I’m going back to Kal and I’m telling him everything you’re doing here! How can you be so stupid! They are going to break you and I don’t think I want to associate with a broken Salamander. Kal needs to find me a new Salamander to guard, one with brains.”
“Pretty please?”
“Ugh!” Mishka landed on his chest, but this time instead of spraying him with the fire energy, he conjured a large fireball and thrust it through Gunz’s chest. The energy of fire surged through him, energizing him and healing his injuries to a degree. Gunz moaned and relaxed as the pain slowly gave up its hold.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his eyelids too heavy to keep his eyes open.
“Sleep now,” said Mishka with a sigh. “Your wounds are not healed completely, but you’ll feel better tomorrow.”
Gunz nodded, feeling a soft burning on his shoulder as Mishka camouflaged himself in his tattoo.
He was awakened in the middle of the night by a soft touch to his shoulder. Without moving, he opened his eyes. The room was still dark, but he could see the silhouette of a woman by his bedside.
“Ignius,” he whispered, conjuring a tiny flame in his palm. The shadows shied away from the dancing light of the fire, and he recognized Mrs. Kogan. He extinguished the fire, cringing. Oh, no… Please, God, I don’t have strength to deal with her on top of everything else.
“Mrs. Kogan, what are you doing in my room this late?” asked Gunz realizing with horror that he was almost naked, lying on top of the blanket.
“Call me Clarissa,” ordered Mrs. Kogan, her hand landing on his inner-thigh, her manicured claws making their way up his leg.
“Fine. Clarissa, you shouldn’t be here at this time,” said Gunz, gently removing her hand.
“Why not?” she asked innocently. “You’re perfectly well undressed for the occasion, lover…” She leaned over him, trying to kiss him, but he turned his face away.
“Mrs. Kogan, please—”
“Clarissa—”
“Yes, Clarissa, what do you want from me? I’m tired. I’m hurt. And I can’t—”
“Aw, Gunz, don’t play coy with me. You know exactly what I want. Am I not attractive enough for you?”
“You’re married enough for me, and I won’t sleep with a married woman. Especially since your husband extended his hospitality to me,” growled Gunz, shifting away from her as he pulled a side of the blanket over his body.
“Oh, please! Did someone knock your brains out in the cage?” Mrs. Kogan rolled her eyes. “He didn’t extend his hospitality to you. He enslaved you. He is nice to you right now because it suits him, but if it comes to a choice between loyalty to you and his bank account, he’ll choose the latter.”
“Be that as it may,” said Gunz with a sigh, “I’m not going to go against my conscience and sleep with you.”
“Are you afraid to take a sin on your soul, love? Is that what it is?”
“Clarissa, really, it’s late. I need to sleep because training is starting in the morning and I’m still hurt,” mumbled Gunz. “It has nothing to do with religion and sin. It has everything to do with my honor. So, please, have mercy and leave me alone.”
“Slaves have no honor,” hissed Mrs. Kogan angrily.
She seized his collar, forcing his face up and crushed his lips with hers. He stiffened, fighting the desire to grab her and throw her out of his room, but hurting the wife of his “owner” didn’t sound like a hot idea. His split lips started bleeding again. He was sure that she could taste his blood but didn’t acknowledge it.
She finally let him go, her lips red with his blood, and smiled a drunk smile. Then she carefully wiped his blood off her lips with her finger and put her finger in her mouth. He grunted and turned away, the sight of her making his stomach churn.
“You’re bleeding and hurt, slave,” she said sliding off the bed, “so I’ll cut you some slack tonight. Rest and try to remember for the next time – as long as you have this collar on your neck, you’re my property and I can do whatever I want with you. You have no choice but to do as you are told. Am I clear, slave?”
She kept repeating the word “slave”, rubbing it in.
“Crystal clear,” growled Gunz, anger slowly rising up in him.
Clarissa swung her hand and slapped him across his face. “You must address me as your mistress, slave!”
That brought Gunz to a boiling point. He jumped off the bed, ignoring his bleeding lips and soreness of his body. Before she could say anything else, he grabbed her by her wrist and threw her out of his room, slamming the door in her face.
“I understand you just fine! Fuckin’ Mistress!” shouted Gunz, pushing the back of a chair under the door handle to keep her from entering again.
Tomorrow I need to talk to Kogan about that and ask him to install a lock on my door. Goddamnit! As if my situation wasn’t complicated enough without this bullshit.
Enslaved dog and a whore… Can it get any worse?
Chapter 7
~ Zane Burns, a.k.a. Gunz ~
Gunz hardly slept for the rest of the night, waking up at the tiniest sound. He got up with the first rays of the rising sun, quickly took a shower and got dressed. The mansion was silent. Even Stephan was still asleep. Gunz walked outside and inhaled the fresh morning air. His body was still sore, and he hoped it wouldn’t prevent him from training today. He spent an hour just strolling along the endless trails in the park and by the time he returned back to his room, he felt recharged and in a better mood.
However, his spirit plummeted when he found Stephan waiting next to his door. The butler inclined his head greeting him and announced that Mr. Kogan would like Gunz to join him for breakfast. Gunz had no choice but to follow the butler. To his surprise, breakfast was served in a small breakfast nook next to the kitchen. Mr. Kogan was already there, sitting at the table with an iPad in his hand. As soon as Gunz walked in, he put away the device and smiled, pointing at a chair across the table from him.
“Good morning, Gunz, I hope you’re feeling better today?” Mr. Kogan started the conversation.
“I’m fine, thanks,” replied Gunz dryly. “I’m getting back to training today. Don’t worry, by next week, I should be ready to start making money for you, sir.”
Breakfast was served right away, but since Gunz had to start training in one hour, he resorted to a cup of coffee and toast. Taking a sip of his hot coffee, he thought about everything that had happened last night, wondering what the best way would be to address this sensitive situation with Mr. Kogan.
“How can you drink this coffee?” asked Mr. Kogan, chuckling. “It’s close to boiling.”
“Fire magic is my strength,” replied Gunz, absentmindedly.
“I can see that something is troubling you,” said Mr. Kogan, leaning across the table. “Don’t be afraid… Give your thoughts a voice.”
“I was wondering if I can ask you for a favor,” started Gunz.
“Why not? What do you need?”
“A new lock for the door to my room,” said Gunz quietly, “so I can lock it from the inside. At least at night.”
Mr. Kogan frowned and reclined back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest, scanning Gunz with his attentive eyes.
“You are not asking for the lock because I walked in without knocking,” he stated. It was clear to Gunz that it wasn’t a question. “It’s Clarissa, isn’t it. What did she do?”
“Mr. Kogan, she is your wife,” said Gunz, lowering his eyes. “I don’t want to—”
“She came to your room last night and made certain demands of you, didn’t she?” hissed Mr. Kogan. His face lost all color turning sickly yellow.
“Yes, sir,” replied Gunz, uncomfortably fumbling with the edge of the table cloth. “I didn’t want to tell you. I just want to have a lock on my door, so I can get a good night’s sleep. The training is exhausting, and I need—”
Mr. Kogan pursed his lips, frowning. “Stephan,” he yelled, his voice infused with fury. Gunz tensed, not sure what infuriated the Head of House – the favor he asked for or his wife’s behavior. The butler silently came into the room. “Stephan, as soon as Gunz leaves for training, I want you to install a lock on his door. When he comes back, give him the key and make sure no one else has the key to his room.” Stephan bowed and disappeared just as silently.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it,” said Gunz, throwing a quick glance at the wall clock. In fifteen minutes, he should be in the underground facility. “I have to go now, sir. I don’t want to anger your Sensei by being late.”
“Before you leave, Gunz, I need to make something clear,” said Mr. Kogan rising. “I’m going to talk with my wife, but I can’t guarantee she’ll listen to me. I have known Clarissa for many years and when she wants something, there is no way of stoppi
ng her. The lock on your door is not going to keep her away. And I hate to say it, but you are in a vulnerable situation. To everyone besides myself, my wife and Stephan, you are just another captive fighter. You have no rights and you must obey your masters, no matter what they ask of you. And I may not be there for you every minute of the day. Do you understand?”
“So, what you are saying is that rape is not considered to be an abuse, is that right, Mr. Kogan?” said Gunz evenly, struggling not to raise his voice. “You swore that if I trust you with my freedom, I’ll never be abused in your house.”
“Do you consider the attention of a beautiful older woman an abuse?” Mr. Kogan chuckled. “Why don’t you just give her what she wants, and she’ll leave you alone. Like you said before – it’s just physical. All she wants is your body.”
Gunz threw his hands in the air. “I must go… master.” He turned around and walked out of the room.
After the first week of training, Mr. Kogan started to book Gunz for events in the captive circles, two-three times a week. They were smaller events and didn’t have the grandeur of the bigger fights he needed to participate in to give Mr. Kogan the opportunity to challenge the California House. Nevertheless, Gunz didn’t lose any of his fights and Mr. Kogan was happily counting the piles of cash after every event.
He continued training every day with the rest of the captive fighters. After what happened during his first day of training, Sensei warmed up to him slightly, but the fighters never accepted him as their own, holding him at arm’s length. However, the general atmosphere of hostility was gone, making it tolerable for him to train. Except for the use of the controller, Sensei didn’t single him out in any way, treating him the same as any other fighter in his group.
As promised, Mr. Kogan installed the lock on the door to Gunz’s room, which allowed him some privacy. At least at night. Clarissa never bothered him again. In fact, she completely avoided him, and it made him wonder what kind of conversation Mr. Kogan had had with his wife.
