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Death and Discontent
updated 11 years ago
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The crowd cheered with a cruel enthusiasm as the victor of the battle was rechained and lead back through the tunnel to their quarters, and the loser was picked up to be disposed of. It had been a brutal fight this time. A huge brutish lion shifter against a little witch, no more than six years but already very talented. It had ended with the lion blinded, maybe permanently, and the little girl strewn around the ground of the arena in at least six pieces. The warlocks who stood by to control the contestants (the strangers were always made weakened in Cherubim, but the fighters retained slightly more powers) were picking up as much of her as they could. One of them grabbed her disembodied head and held it up, prompting louder cheering. Anastasia cheered louder than anyone, she had been jubilant the whole fight and rooting for the lion even though that witch was the same age as her. “I’m hungry” The princess whined, climbing down from Oliver’s shoulders. “Even after seeing that witch get torn up?” Toby asked, raising his painted eyebrows. The human just shrugged, though Milo seemed to be in shock, his small white hands still clasped over his ears and his glass eyes shut tight. “Get me a candy apple.” She said as she turned to one of the warlocks that always escorted the princess when her father let her go out alone. The guard seemed uncertain but then Milo stood up, still not looking at the battle field. “I’ll do it. I don’t like watching this anyway.” The warlocks nodded and waved him off. The rule about strangers not being allowed out alone was usually ignored for the triplets, since dainty ceramic dolls could hardly fight anyone, or even attempt to pose as human. “Look Anna, they’re getting ready for the next fight.” Toby exclaimed. The crowd fell quiet again as it waited to see the new fighters.
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Matthew turned his head for a minute, Poor girl, he thought. Her body dismembered and people cheered. It wasn’t fair, none of this was fair. Before Matt could do anything a guard noticed him taking a slight break from sweeping up the trash the crowd had thrown at the witch during the fight. “get back to work you filthy vampire,” The guard scolded him, “You don’t deserve a break.” Matt thought he deserved a break, because this was the eighth day I’m a row his new master made him clean up the arena.(His human master Owned a concession stall in the arena) Mathew was fed up with all this crap. He was so close to starting a fight with the guard, but suddenly he heard more cheers coming from the cruel audience. He looked to his right and saw the new fighters, another lion and a dark figure was all he could see from where he was at.
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Prilla hated to see these battles, so Cruel and Violent … “I can not believe you like to see this” she asked her Big Brother, A Tall and Handsome boy. “If you do not like it, get out bug!” Prilla took her bag and got up from her seat. Prilla turned to look at the arena, The new fighters were ready, Why would anyone want to see something like this …Best not see anything. Prilla bought a glass of juice, She could not help listening to the girl and her companions, How will the future be with people like this girl in charge? She was about to leave, But Then she remembered that her Brother was going to be in big troubles if she gets back home alone, Not that she cared for him or something, but the last time he was not the only one to get into trouble!
Best decided to return to her seat and close her eyes the rest of the fight … -
Tiāncái stares down coldly at the lion, her hand on the hilt of her sword. “Another lion…” She had mixed opinions from the crowd, as she wasn’t afraid to kill, yet was highly resistant to pain. And the people, as Tiāncái was a Stranger, did not enjoy how she was so enduring.
“They can’t come up with new ideas, can they?” She sighs, drawing her large sword. “Very well, cat, let’s get this over with.”
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Auralyn sat as straight and valiant as she could, despite being on the floor and occasionally ridiculed at, her lupine eyes a mix of shock and horror of what she had just seen. She was a wolf at the moment- donning a silky silver pelt with various hints of black and white- and it was indeed annoying to fully progress into this form, but she was subjected to the whim of the aristocrat and his children. The collar around her neck enforced that quite well, to be frank. It was better to endure the energy loss of transforming willingly than being forced to through this damned utility. She had no choice, nor did she have the choice to attend this appalling display of “entertainment.”
The crowd had roared from the victorious lion, and she all but winced but not enough to make it very noticeable. She felt bad for the poor young witch, and disgusted of the death. No, she was just merely disgusted all around. Everything about this was disgusting. And seeing the lion tugged at her heart, but she had to force herself to suppress the wistful memories.
The two kids, a girl and boy each, gazed on in awe and pressed their bodies against her fur. It was sickening to imagine that her own father let them attend these “games” enough that they should be enticed to watch the violent deaths of others. The witch that was shredded to pieces was just about their age, and the amused gleam in their eyes about the battles just…
Another roar of the crowd signaled the next batch of competitors. She gave a shaky sigh and peered over the field. Yet another lion and… a girl. She looked on in wonder, seeing the young woman draw a hefty sword with ease. What was she? A shifter? Demon? She looked so battle ready, so trained… Though, it was to be expected in the arena. Many tough challengers entered the ring and died all just to please a sadistic crowd for a short time.
Her train of thought was broken when the two kids shook her in excitement, jerking her to attention. Their father gave a sturdy glare at the venebra, and she gulped and gazed on. The aristocrat, even when he was considered a rather low class one, had always prodded at her with a figurative tip of a knife in some way, shape, or form. He seemed to like to have a “stranger” as an enslaved servant like many other richer families, and wanted to make his kids happy to have a fluffy dog or a puffy bird or a fluffy puffy dog-bird for a pet guard. But he still liked to prod some dark fun at her. Had he wanted her to go to these arena matches? Probably, he wanted her cast out of his lot since the beginning. These kids had saved her life in a way. Sure, she was cured of her illness, has food, water, and a roof over her head, and some sort of comfort, but was she really better off as a slave?
The she-wolf blinked again, and the match looked like it was just about to start once more. Auralyn twitched her ears and watched in mute melancholy.
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Not a single trace of emotion graced the eyes of the pale young man, sat intertwined with the masses. He had seen enough of these matches to not care anymore, to not root for a side, to not get attached. At first, he came to the battles to seem to be normal, to hide within the mass of cruel powerless, mindless flesh that squirmed, long ago beneath him, but now, with his divinity taken, he tried as much as possible to hide, a parasite among the flesh. But now, the battles were a ritual to him, engraved in his brain as another meaningless task he needed to preform to simply stay living.
Xienex no longer felt like a living being. Perhaps that was best. He had not opened his mouth to speak in three years. He simply went to his lowpaying job of unloading cargo, went to battles, bought food, and stayed in his little spot in the sewers. He kept it, and himself, remarkably clean, however. Perhaps just another way to fit in.
His eyes drifted around the crowd, around the cheering, meaningless bugs. He felt anger rising within him, but he quickly quelled it. Not today, today was not the day. He let his eyes look back at the arena to watch the next battle.
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“Princess Anastasia would like a candy apple.” Milo said softly to the woman who owned the sweet stand. She seemed to recognize him even before he showed her the king’s seal embossed on the back of his hand, and she nodded and handed him a particularly shiny red fruit. Free food was one of the many perks Anna received for being royalty. He didnt look, but Milo could tell that the next fight was starting by the way the people had started chanting. The support seemed to be for the lion again. He felt like he was going to faint, he was very sensitive about death. It really did seem wrong that the humans enjoyed something that a heartless, mindless, cold skinned object could not stand. Anna squealed excitedly when he handed her the candy before her scrambled back up Oliver’s back to get a better view. “Did they sell the victor?” Toby asked. Milo shook his head, the platform had been empty. It was tradition to auction off the fighters who were too injured to go out again. But since children under ten couldn’t be brought to auction without a parent, (this rule was ignored frequently in less prominent markets) many of the victors were too young to escape via this method, instead being recycled against weaker competition. Looks like this lion was one of those unlucky children. The announcer yelled out the stats and names of the new opponents as Oliver tried to keep the princess from falling off his shoulders and Milo buried his face in Toby’s shoulder, who was watching the field with rapt interest.
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Selena faced the lion child in front of her, trying not to cry at the sight of the injuries he bore. She wanted to drop her sword, to wrap her arms around the child and whisk him away to where she could heal his wounds and care for him as he should be.
That would spell death for the both of them, however, and so she would once again be forced to kill in her own defense. She didn’t hate the humans-she simply ignored them most of the time-but she did resent that her gift over air had been restricted the way it was. Unable to control it, she felt the single tear roll from her eye and into her fur.
“I’m sorry, boy. I have no choice but to fight you. You understand, right?”
The boy nodded, then somehow managed a smile. He was that badly injured that Selena was amazed he was still standing, and she could smell the stench of infection from some of his wounds. She sighed. “Will you tell me your name, child?”
“My name?”
“What did your mother call you?” She ignored the screams and roars from the humans above her-they weren’t what mattered.
“Oh… I… I think she called me Etak…”
She smiled-and ran forwards, sword held behind her as she approached as swiftly as she could. With his injuries, Etak had no chance anyway, and while he did make a half-hearted swipe at her with his claws, he didn’t really fight back as her blade sank into his chest. “I’m sorry, Etak. I wish I could have helped you.” Her voice was a whisper as she spoke, more tears falling on the child’s face as she pulled her sword back.
Etak didn’t answer-he was already dead. Selena briefly closed her eyes, then drew back from him. In one hand, she now held the tiny knotted bracelet he had worn. You will live on in me, Etak. Forever. I won’t forget you-just as I will never forget the others I’ve been forced to kill in this accursed place. Turning, Selena threw her blade to one side before stalking towards the gate she’d entered the arena through.
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Or…That could happen. Looks like she didn’t get to fight this time around. Better for her – More energy for whatever her next fight was.
The crowd did not seem happy that she essentially got off scot-free. Apparently, Tiancai was to face the first opponent that would step forward. And if nobody was to step forward to face her, then Tiancai would face the cruel fate of facing the most brutal monster the arena officials could conjure up. Of course, practically everyone who was entirely against the Strangers made every effort to ensure they did not seem like they were willing to participate.
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the winged wolf stared angrily at the arena from her perch in a cloud above the arena.” i mak not beable to fly but i can manipulate clouds, so i guess its cool.. i just cant beleive what i saw…” the wolf huffed. she turned away and made the cloud drop her into the city as she moved quietly though a alley way.
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Children. These were all… Children. Aisling could’ve cried from her far up seat. How could they allow this to happen. She averted her eyes as the sword sliced through the boy. Why were they all so young? She was alone, everyone else was closer to the action, but the stench of death carried far. She coughed. Oh, wait, that wasn’t the smell of death from the arena, that was the smell of death from her. She wiped her bloodied hand on her pants, and tried to ignore the throbbing screams of the crowd.
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Tears rand down Mitsuko’s face as see watched the battles. “Why all the cruelty, why do humans have to treat us so meanly. We may look different, but on the inside we are the same.” Mitsuko mumbles to herself. As she gets up from her seat to get some chocolate, some humans insult for being a werid girl. “I know I must keep my true nature a secret, but I want to rip those humans from limb to limb” Itsuko ingores the girls and buys her chocolte and takes her seat.
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Kel waited behind the arena gates, practically petrified with fear. Watching the innumerable fights in which he would have to participate soon wasn’t helping to ease it, but it was better than reflecting on what had gotten him here in the first place. Too late – he could practically hear the soldiers chasing him, see the ground flying by at lion’s eye level, feel the dried blood coating his face. He wasn’t proud of what he’d done, but, as logic dictated, he’d needed to do it…or had he? He reached up and ran his hand over the top of his head, feeling the lion’s ears that were left over from his transformation. That always happened, weirdly – and unluckily, as it was killer evidence for his hunters.
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Watching from the shadows ,Serilda waited for her turn, her green eyes lacking emotions for she had seen the deaths of young ones for years now. She was used to the screams and blood that surrounded her, she was used to killing innocent people, she almost liked it in a sick way, for she was made for this, even if it was against her will. She knew she could leave, but something, maybe the faint memories of her creator, made her stay, and kill anyone who stood in her way.
Seeing her fellow Strangers react to the deaths, made her smile, but soon she started to smile wider, showing her saw like teeth to the new enemy, a rather large man, bald, and old, but strong. His eyes showed a sadistic glint. much like her’s, as he swung his weapon, which was a large sword, battered after many deadly swings. Growling, she walked towards him, sword in hand, ready for the fight. Not even waiting for the fight to start she ran the last few meters towards the man, and tackled him, thrusting her sword at the side of his sweaty bald head.They landed a few feet away, both wrestling for control. She missed, and with a grunt the enemy threw her off of him, and stood. Grasping her sword tighter, she went at him again, and from the corner of her eye she saw the loud ,little princess, screaming for blood. So young, and yet she was bloodthirsty, she wanted Serilda to die. And that made her c go into a dark mood. Standing still, she looked down at her sword, as the enemy ran at her, and just when he was about to hit her , she looked up, and stopped him in his track. The man stared, wide eyes into her eyes, dropping his sword, he fell backwards, and landed heavily on his back. Grinning like the sadistic freak she was, she leaned towards him, her once green eyes now a bloody red.
Laughing, she closed her eyes and when she opened them he was dead. Her eyes were once again green, and yet, she still laughed. Using her dark magic she had caused his death. Not wanting to look at anyone anymore, she picked up her sword, and walked slowly back to her cell in the darkest part of the Arena. Once there, she slowly sank to the floor and stared at the dark wall ,her green eyes flashing darkly, as she remembered her mother, the wife of her creator.
Smiling, she soon fell asleep, listening to the bloodcurdling screams from outside. -
Glumly, Kel watched one girl up in the stands buy some chocolate and sit down again to watch the unending murders. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. Did she find solace in watching them? Revel in them? Misunderstand them altogether? He kind of wished he could get some chocolate himself, but, he thought as his stomach lurched nastily, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to stomach it.
His attention was captured by another girl in the cell next to his, whose eyes were flashing unnaturally. Kel had to remind himself that this was perfectly usual in the world of Strangers, and that he wasn’t supposed to run from them anymore, and that, even if he tried, there was nowhere to run. He kept his eyes fixed on the girl as her eyes closed and she smiled, evidently asleep.
He had seen how she had struck down that man, with a simple blink of her eyes and a sadistic laugh. Petrified with fear, he twisted his hands, silently praying, once again, that he wasn’t picked to fight next.