Riot (Scarred Souls 4)
Page 25
It would raise expectations. More investors would join, eager to have their champions bring me down once and for all.
I heard the guards beginning to move in behind me. I kept going, struggling to walk all the way to my cell. As I passed 667’s cell, I heard a high-pitched giggle drifting into the hallway. I stopped dead as his mona laughed again. The sound cut through me like a knife. Not because I couldn’t stand the sound, but because I’d rarely heard that sound in my entire life.
As his mona laughed again, 152’s beautiful face came into my head. I saw her tears, I saw her fear … I didn’t see her laugh. My heart stuttered as I envisioned her smiling at me or laughing at something I’d said. I couldn’t breathe as I was trapped in that dream.
It fell apart when I caught 140 moving to his cell door. He stared at me with his vacant, lifeless eyes, as his arms threaded through the bars and hung across the horizontal bar.
When 667’s mona laughed again, 140 moved his attention to the other champion’s cell door. He spoke without looking at me. “It’s only a question of time,” he said coldly, his body still bathed in his opponent’s blood. “When Master feels like it, needs something, or simply wants to fuck with his mind, he’ll kill her.” 140 pointed at 667’s cell. “He’ll start by taking her away from him every now and again. He’ll expect her and she won’t arrive. When she does, she’ll be hurt and bruised. She’ll be quiet. He’ll bring her to his cell door or have him brought to the mona quarters. Then, with 667 restrained, Master will take her or stand by as he orders another warrior or guard to do it for him. 667 will slowly begin to break, seeing his female being forced to take another male’s cock.” His hands moved to tighten on the bars, then he bit out, “He’ll kill her in front of him. And he’ll die along with her.” He looked to me, but I knew his eyes were still locked in the past. “Only he’ll be forced to still live in this pit, waking each day and fighting some other man-made animal he doesn’t give a shit about in the ring. And the worst part is, Master won’t even think of it again. He’ll move on to play with another warrior’s head. Because that’s what he does. He created this empire to toy with us, his slaves.”
667’s laughs came from his cell, and my eyes drifted to fix on his door. “I have been here since I was ten. I don’t know how many years have passed—Master makes sure we don’t know, doesn’t he? But I guess that I am in my twenties. I got my mona, I think, about two years ago.” I glanced back to 140. Now he was staring at me. “In all of the years I have been here, I only remember those days I spent with her. They are the only memories I have. I don’t remember much of my childhood, because of the drugs. I don’t remember my fights, because I have killed too many, too often. But I remember every second spent with her.” His face flushed red. “And I remember the gleam in Master’s eyes when he slit her throat as my punishment for not being effective enough in the pit. I received a blow to my arm that the Master thought made his warrior—me—look inefficient. So he killed my heart.”
“He is an unworthy male,” I responded.
140 laughed a humorless laugh. Then his face hardened back to a deathly expression. “Since my mona died, I have been thinking every night: Why are we here? Where did we all come from? Why did Master create this Blood Pit?” His face contorted. “And why the hell are we all obeying? We are all warriors. We kill. That is all we do. We kill every day. As children, we killed. As males, we kill. Yet we do not kill them.” He meant the Wraiths. “We don’t ask questions about anything, we don’t rise up. We only know this life. And we accept it.”
“Most of the male fighters are drugged more than we are. We are on special privileges because we are champions,” I said.
“The chiri give us our drugs every day. Every person in this pit. The monebi, the Ubiytsy, the fighters, us. Why? Why do we all do it? If the chiri were to stop the injections, the males would fight with clear heads. We could save the monebi, whose only purpose is to spread their legs and then be killed. We could be free.”
“You want to be free?” I asked, his words circling my head. I couldn’t stop his questions from becoming my own.
He shook his head. “No. I want to die. I want to leave this life.” I frowned. 140 leaned forward as much as he could out the cell door and said, “But I’ll take out as many of these fuckers as I can as I go. Master, if possible; his investors, at the very least. Since he killed my mona, I have nothing left to live for. Once I get my chance, I will take it with eyes wide open. And I’ll die with a smile on my face, knowing I have taken some of the Wraiths down with me.”
“How will you do it?” I asked, my heart beating faster. I was siding with his plan. My body celebrated the thought of his vision.
He shrugged. “I don’t know yet. But a time will come. I’m praying all of us slaves will finally rise up and take them all down. But if that never happens, I’ll die doing it myself.”
I was quiet after he had spoken. 140 began backing away. But before he disappeared into the privacy of his cell, he said, “You, 667, and I have been in these quarters almost the same amount of time. In all of those days, I have never seen you even gain a scratch in battle.” His eyes narrowed, then widened, clearly realizing something important. Moving closer again, he guessed correctly. “The mona. The High Mona that you have been servicing each night. He used her, didn’t he?”
My lips rubbed together, and a sense of failure took me in its hold. 140 shook his head slowly and sighed. “You want her.” He stared at me and added, “I thought you felt nothing for her. I have walked past the cell and seen her in the corner, alone, afraid.” His head tipped to the side as he searched my hard expression. “But you do. And he now knows it.” His hands took hold of the bars. “Am I right?”
My silence said everything.
“How did he threaten her? Did he threaten to take her back? Did he hit her? Starve her? Give her to another warrior?”
I vibrated on the spot as I thought of the guard holding a knife to her throat. I held my Kindjals tighter, as I replayed the wide look in her eyes. Opening them, I hissed, “He was going to cut her throat. He had a guard stand behind her. He ordered me to make more of the fight. To draw out the kill.” I glanced away in annoyance, then added, “I was going to just let her die. I needed to let her die…”
“… But you couldn’t,” 140 finished. I wanted to snarl back that he didn’t know what he was talking about. That I didn’t care for the mona that had been forced upon me.
But the words wouldn’t come from my mouth.
I couldn’t get them out, no matter what I tried.
“He was going to kill her?” 140 prompted, and stepped back. His hard expression turned to sympathy.
“What?” I spat, edging forward toward his cell.
140 stopped. Then, running his hand over his face, he said, “Then you’re fucked. He tested you. He normally starts slow. But with you and his mona, he put everything on the line.” He crossed his arms. “We’ve all seen him parading the High Mona through the pits, holding her close, owning her, possessing her.” His eyebrow raised. “Even though he has given her to you, he hasn’t truly given her to you. And if he was willing to kill her for your submission, it means he will risk it all for you to break. It makes you the most sorry son of a bitch in this place.”
As 140 walked away, he said, “I didn’t even know her name. I knew her number but not her name. Fuck, I don’t even know my own. I know nothing. None of us know anything, outside of how we live and exist in here. But without the drugs, the privilege we earn as champions, it means that we can think. For ourselves. I don’t know what the world outside is like, but I know that this place of blood and pain is wrong. I feel it in my heart. I feel it with everything I am.”
The sound of the guards approaching made me move forward. With every step I took, the fire inside rose higher and higher, until I felt like I was burning from the inside out.
When I reached my cell, I slammed the door shut and leaned my heavy body against the nearest wall. My legs gave way as I slumped to the floor. My arms fell down, the injuries making them weak. My Kindjals clattered on the stone floor. Trickles of blood ran over my cut skin and onto the floor beside me.