by Jamie Hawke
“These people,” I said, looking at the crowd with disgust. “They’re the ones you want to save?”
“If we rescue the planet, we can put a stop to this,” Twitch said.
I nodded, then started walking.
“He’s still doing it?” I heard Gale asking, and Twitch responding that I was. As much as that thought terrified me, yes, there was no way I was going to back down if this would bring me a step closer to reuniting with Charm.
13
Being rushed into a gladiator fight is like what I imagine a turkey feels like when being prepped for a Thanksgiving feast. By the end of it, I was stripped, oiled, and might as well have been seasoned with all the dust floating around and clinging to me. The main difference here was that they pointed us to a room of weapons. The turkey doesn’t usually get to fight back.
It was in this room that I was able to see the light through slits between heavy wooden beams, hear the chanting and drumming, and remember why I wanted to piss myself. I adjusted the strange rope that held up the cloth around my crotch, hoping it wouldn’t come off during the fight. The thought made me laugh—as if exposing myself to the crowd was my biggest worry.
A glance at the weapons reminded me that, as badass as I’d become, I could use some formal training. The longsword or rapier both looked great, but I hadn’t the slightest idea how to use either. Sure, put me in front of a motion-controlled simulation game, I’d destroy my enemy. But I had a feeling this was a bit different. I’d seen how they countered spears when watching, so that didn’t appeal to me. I was left with several options, none of which were the arc baton, unfortunately.
The cutlass felt good in my hand, and I remember learning in some pirate game about how they’d preferred those swords because it was all about the heavy strikes, coming at your opponent with it almost like a club. They were heavy so they could crack open a skull, but still small enough that they were maneuverable, unlike the broadsword.
It was that or the trident, which sounded cool as hell but, since I wasn’t a merman, didn’t feel right. Cheers rose up outside and then a scream, and I knew the previous fight was coming to a close, so I practiced a few swings with the cutlass, warming up. With my enhanced strength and speed, it was child’s play. I’d forgotten about my power. Realizing that, I considered the broadsword again. But no, if they saw a not-so-large guy like me run out there throwing that thing around like a butter knife, they’d suspect me of using powers, which wasn’t allowed. Better to put on a show, to the extent I could, while not raising suspicions.
An old woman passed by my waiting area, eyed me, and said, “The other guy’s bigger.”
“Which means—”
“He’ll fall harder?” She scoffed, about to walk on, when I held up a hand.
“I was going to say, more of him to hack to pieces,” I corrected her. “He’s not going to fall until I say so.”
She smiled, one hand moving along the seam of her brown dress. When I noticed the intricate designs of pink flowers woven into the fabric, I realized it wasn’t exactly a servant’s dress as I’d first thought.
“Who are you?” I asked, curious about her involvement here and apparent interest in me. “Someone placing bets?”
“If I were, should I bet on you?”
I grinned. “I’m a survivor. Won’t see me giving up.”
“In that case, keep on surviving.” She nodded one more time, then walked off. I had to wonder if she’d just joined in my loose reference to an old Earth song from long ago, but pushed away the thought. Most likely it was a coincidence.
“Go time, pretty boy,” a deep voice rumbled from the other side of the wall to my right, and I figured that was my opponent.
“To be clear,” I said, doing my best not to sound worried at all. “Am I supposed to go until you surrender, or until your heart stops beating and your guts are spilled across the floor? I’m not sure I’ve got the rules figured out.”
“I’ll wear your skull as a cup to protect my nuts in my next fight,” the man said.
“Ah, so to the death for sure.” I breathed, remembering that went both ways.
The drums had stopped, I realized, but only for a moment before they picked up again, slow and gentle at first, as an announcer prepped the crowd with some ‘More to come’ bullshit. And then the drums picked up, cheers rose, and the wood in front of me pulled aside so that the slight incline up and into the coliseum was clear.
“Time to taste nutsack,” the man to my right said, and his roar sounded as he charged out.
I cracked my neck, took a couple of quick breaths, and told myself it was all for Charm. If we didn’t succeed here, anything could happen to her in the other realm. Not on my watch.
My own roar surprised me as I charged, greeted by the cheers of the crowd as both opponents were out now. With my cutlass raised, I spun to take them in, only to realize a boar of a man was charging at me with a broadsword. Shit, now I wished I had chosen that weapon as well. In those few seconds it took me to process what was happening, I saw that he was indeed larger than me in every way, even his barely concealed junk was flopping around like a salmon trying to get out. Muscles bulged in a way that I hardly could believe came about without some sort of superpowers, veins on his arms and neck bulging like hoses.
What the fuck, was all I could think.
Then again, I had my powers, so I guess it was fairer this way. Then that sword rose up and he was upon me, slashing down upon the spot I’d been a split-second earlier. It was all I could do to lunge sideways, catching him with a shoulder against his that knocked him off balance. My strike followed, but he had his sword up already, somehow, and blocked before throwing me back. The crowd shouted for blood when I stumbled back and his next strike nearly took me, but I dodged backward.
Not quick enough, I realized as he came in with a feint, now spinning to the exact location I was standing. My cutlass served to block the majority of the strike but wasn’t big enough, and I hadn’t moved quickly enough, so a line along my arm was torn open. Nothing big or lasting, but enough to remind me of my mortality.
I switched to brawling mode for that, taking advantage of our proximity by kicking his knee and moving in for a headbutt. I caught him with a knee to the stomach, then lifted the hilt of my cutlass into his jaw, nearly knocking him out. He wobbled, and I moved for the killing blow. At the last second, he snapped out of it and sent me back with a push kick.
When I recovered, he was assessing me with caution.
“Who are you, little boy?” the man said as he started circling me, sword held at the ready.
“Just a man trying to survive in this crazy world.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be done soon enough.” He lunged and I dove. Only, instead of continuing the roll, I thrust my cutlass into the ground to stabilize myself, pushed back, and was up again.
This time he hadn’t had a chance to recover, so when my cutlass came down hard he was only able to save his head by blocking with his forearm, I heard a satisfying crunch. My strike had come in so hard that it not only broke skin and tore into muscle, it had also torn his bone in two so that part of it stuck out from the flesh on the other side of his arm.
He let out a roar of pain and anger and spun, trying to hit me with the broadsword. Unfortunately for him, that sort of strike wasn’t easy.
“Nice try,” I said, watching his arm move like it was in slow motion. My leap forward allowed me to place a foot inside his and cause him to stumble away, while I moved in for the strike. I slammed my cutlass first into his ribs, cracking at least one and sending a line of blood across his body, then I brought it up and slammed the blade down into his head.
It stuck there, blade lodged in his skull, and he let out a blood-curdling, agonized scream. Suddenly this large man had piss running down his leg while blood cascaded down his face. I tried to pull the blade free, but it made a horrible scraping noise and then wouldn’t budge.
He came for me again, even like
this, me without a weapon. My leg pushed out in a kick like I’d seen him do to me, but he rolled into it, dropping his sword, and was on top of me. His one good arm wrapped around my neck taking me in some sort of choke hold, and his mouth opened as he went to bite my face.
Fuck that.
My hands were free, his other arm badly wounded. One went for the bone sticking out, twisting it, the other to slam the top of my cutlass further into his head. He gagged, eyes bugging out, and abandoned the quest to bite me. His grip tightened, but on the second tug on his nasty, slippery exposed bone, he let go with a howl. I was up in an instant, not even thinking, grabbing him by the stringy black hair on his head before slamming his head into the ground over and over until the cutlass was never going to be removed and his body stopped jerking.
Adrenaline pulsed through me and I felt a rush, ready for my next victim, even as my heart clenched at the idea of what I’d just done.
The crowd, however, clearly only had one emotion over the issue—exhilaration. It was only when they were cheering and the drums had finally stopped that my brain processed the fact that the fight was over, and that someone was motioning me back out of the pit. The next few steps were a daze, my mind gone, the light and crowd and all of it too much. As I stumbled back, I caught sight of Twitch and Gale, but couldn’t make out the expressions on their faces.
Would they be proud of me? Disgusted?
Either way, I’d done what was necessary. If it hadn’t been him, he would’ve likely killed some other competitor, and eventually been killed himself. Servants rushed out to meet me at the exit, one of them pointing and repeating one word over and over—bath. A glance down showed why—I was covered in blood and guts. It was disgusting, so I was more than happy to clean up.
As I walked through the halls, I saw other champions meandering around at the baths, many of them nude. It struck me as odd at first, until I saw the women emerging from the back rooms. First, they dumped water on them in the area above the baths, but with a ridge between them and the baths, so that I imagined the filthy water ran off to the sides, going into some drainage system. Then they took the fighters and guided them into the waters, bathing them. I froze, watching as women removed their clothing and rubbed soap along these men, some of the men abandoning the baths to start fucking the women or getting blow jobs.
Two women saw me watching and approached, already dropping their clothes as they guided me back to the buckets, drenching me in ice-cold water. It shocked me to my senses, so that when they stripped me and pointed me to the baths, I held up my hands and said, “No, I’ll take care of myself.”
They pouted, but didn’t argue. When I made it to the water, a large fighter who was having his tiny cock stroked looked at me and said, “What’s the matter, not into women?”
I frowned, glanced around, and saw Twitch and Gale had found their way down and were leaning back against a far wall. They waved to me.
“Oh, already spoken for,” the man said. I nodded, looking away. All I wanted to do was get clean here, certainly not have to witness that.
Another glance over at Twitch and Gale made me wonder why they were watching so intently, but it didn’t really bother me when I thought about it. I could watch the women, watch this strange orgy in the baths, and not feel any less loyalty toward those two and Charm. I could probably participate and feel the same way, but I simply didn’t want to. My women were mine, and I was theirs. Why should I venture out of that?
I finished bathing and was given a new tunic and britches, apparently to wear until my next fight, then told to eat while I waited.
Twitch nodded me over, patting a bundle at her side. Right, my armor! I’d almost forgotten the need to ensure I was leveling up in here. I glanced around, then went over to them. A woman noticed and gave me a wink, likely assuming I’d brought my own wine to dinner.
“Hanging in there?” Gale asked.
“I survived,” I said.
“It was closer than we would’ve liked.” Twitch motioned me nearer, then said, “Pretend to kiss me while checking your stats.”
“Pretend?” I grinned and went for the full thing, but put my hand on the armor as I did. Feeling her lips against mine made me feel whole again, ready to get back out there, and when my screen popped up, I was glad to see that the experience points bar was indeed more filled in than before.
“It worked,” I said, pulling back from the kiss.
She grinned, eyes moving to my crotch. “Yeah?”
“Not… well, of course that too,” I said, realizing it was starting to rise. “But I meant the fight. I’m getting the experience anyway. Maybe because it’s close by, or…”
“Or maybe that’s just how it is now,” Gale suggested. “You’re fused or something.”
“We were brainstorming, trying to figure out ideas for how it works,” Twitch explained.
I nodded, grinning at Gale, but she shook her head. “You want to kiss me, you better earn it. Get those points hero boy, and we’ll see.”
“Gale the tease,” I said, shaking my head. “Watch me, you’ll see.”
They departed, and I went back to where I saw them serving food. Taking a bit of chicken and a potato, I found a corner to sit and eat.
“Smart not to get too involved in the baths,” an older woman said, walking by and collecting plates of discarded food. I glanced up and noticed she was the one from before, with the pink flowers sewn into her brown dress.
“What’s that?”
She paused, assessing me. “You’re a smart one. Maybe a champion, maybe not. But those who spend too much energy aren’t. They die soon. Those who eat too much cramp up. You, you’re smart. So maybe you’re a champion.”
With a nod, she moved on to finish her job, leaving me to feel glad about my choices.
I finished my meal and focused on stretching. It was killing me not to know what Charm was up to right now or if she was safe. The only thing I could do was level up as fast as possible. If there was a wall I could break down in my rage to get to her, I damn well would.
But as they said, sometimes slow and steady wins the race.
14
It had been at least an hour, and nobody had called on me yet. In fact, I hadn’t heard anything about when I’d get my next fight. Others went, some returned. The guy with the small pecker tried to chat me up more than once, but I was too distracted, too focused to be a good conversationalist.
Finally, when I saw two servants going by I darted over and asked about it.
“Tomorrow,” the guy said. “No need to throw you out there when you’re exhausted.”
“Fuck that,” I said. “I’m going now.”
The guy looked me over, scoffed, and said, “You’ll go into the Battle Royale round if you insist, and then you’ll be leaving in pieces.”
“It’s that or wait until tomorrow,” the other said, already moving as if I wouldn’t accept. Proof that he didn’t know me. When someone I cared about was waiting on me, there was no way I’d make them wait a second longer than was necessary.
“Like before, with the two sides?” I asked.
The first nodded. “Only, this time it’s ten of you, everyone for themselves.”
While the thought made me hesitate, it was also enticing. If I could somehow kill more than my share in there, that would be more experience and therefore more levels.
“I’m in,” I said.
“Then get the fuck out there, because they’re about to start,” the guy replied, shaking his head like I was the biggest idiot in the world. “I’ll let them know.”
“Roger that,” I said, and ran off to change back into my stupid underwear thing and grab a weapon. Others were in various other preparation rooms, so I was guided to a new one. Here they had similar weapons, but many were already bloody, not even cleaned from the last fights. Since I was going for multiple kills here, I needed something that would work fast. Allow me movement and range.
As much as using a spear f
elt stupid, in the situation I decided it was the best option. It also happened to be one of the only clean weapons in there, the other being a simple club with nails on it. Possibly useful, but not the best weapon for quick deaths.
Others on either side of the walls were hooting and calling out death threats, talking about how they would tear each other apart, and all I could think was that they were all idiots. Nobody here seemed to be slaves, so what was the point? Then again, my galaxy had the whole Planet Kill thing going, so who was I to talk. Idiots abound, no matter where you go in the universe.
Drums and the cheering of crowds drowned out my opponents, and then the path was clear and we were charging out, and, fuck, my heart was thudding. Ten opponents, since they already had their numbers before I showed up. I was the eleventh.
My strategy was simply to go for the weakest first, work my way up. I hated that there were women involved—how my foster mother raised me, I guess. But I was glad to see that the women out there didn’t appear to be the weakest anyway, so I didn’t have to start with them.
Instead, there was a skinny, tall man who was backing into the corner, holding a sword and creeping around the back of someone who was already moving for his own target. Way I saw it, first of all, tall and skinny meant more area to attack and more awkward, less able to dodge and be graceful as the fight might demand. Second, this guy was taking a hide and strike strategy, which meant he was a bit of a coward.
Maybe killing him wouldn’t feel so bad. I charged, dead on, realizing when I was only halfway there that a large woman had set her sights on me and was barreling in from my right. Fine, two at once, I thought, and at the last second dove, thrusting me spear up and to my right. She had already thrown her body weight forward and couldn’t stop, so she landed on my spear with a sickly groan, coughing up blood and trying to thrust with her rapier. I thrust her and the spear down, pulled the spear free, and kept moving. Either she was dead or close to it, and I’d gotten my experience points there. The suit didn’t reward me for a final finishing move that I was aware of.
