The Death Arena

         Cries of agony, snarls of rage, cheers of glory. It hit the creature in the cell like a bullet between his eyes, causing his muscular body to flinch violently. The darkness of his prison was like a disease slowly tearing apart his sanity, it only grew worse and worse. He put his forehead against the cool, moist, crack concrete wall, scrunching his eyes shut. He flatted his raven black ears against his head and his nails dug into the ground. Whimpers rose quietly in his throat as a death scream sounded off and he pressed his body closer to the wall.

         Images of freedom, of hope soon fluttered out of his consciousness, leaving him with one thing he can look forward to. Dying in the Arena, fighting only for human entertainment. The very thought made his stomach churn with rage. It was sickening; humans would go to forests, mountains, even safaris to find their latest combatants. Innocent creatures with families, with hope that they would grow like their ancestors. All of it was thrown to the ground and lit ablaze with torment.

         Stone scraped against concrete, causing the prisoner to prick his ears wearily. He opened his left eye slightly, the iris dulled with years of fighting and wounds. He lifted his head and turned it towards the slowly opening door, his lips twitching with warning. He winced as bright light flooded into his cell and cut harshly into his only functioning eye. He lifted a paw to his eye, but the appendage was stopped short by the shackle that was clamped firmly around his ankle. The chains rattled as he shifted his body to glare at whoever entered his cell. Two humans stood, their unusual masks covering their faces and electric rods in their hands. They were mumbling words that the wolf could not hear. He pricked his ears towards his captors, straining to hear their voices.

         "I think this one's about had his time," one said. "Look at how beat up he is. And with one eye, he won't last very long."

         "Well, you've seen the freak fight," the other countered. "With the bird and Gaboon viper DNA those crazy idiots put into him, he's viscous and fearsome. But, I agree. He won't be able to survive with one eye and that stupid scarf around his neck. Have you ever tried taking that idiotic cloth off of him?'

         "When we first brought him in here, we tried to cut it off with knives, but he bit one of the guard's hand clean off. I guess the stupid mutt likes it on him."

         Crackling echoed in his cell as the two humans approached the prisoner. Their rods were pointed at him and one reached out for his neck shackle. Unwilling to have another meeting with that infernal rod, the wolf allowed them to take his shackles off. He curled his lip back to bare his fangs at them, warning them not to try anything. They seized him by his scarf, yanking him out of his cell. The ragged fabric tightened around his throat and he let out a startled yelp, quickly following the yelp with a savage snarl. The humans seemed not to notice his protests and continued to drag him down the familiar chilling hallway that lead to the arena grounds.

         The wolf had no idea who he would have to face and it gave him a nervous stomach. Silent prayers sounded off in his head as he was dragged through the hallways to the entrance of the arena. Thrown like a helpless creature into the tunnel, his escape route was blocked as the door behind him shut tightly. His deep gray wings trembled against his sides, the appendages bound tightly. He was terrified, his chest heaving as he fought for breath in the stuffy passage. Cheers sounded harsh in his ears and he could hardly hear the announcer over his pounding heart. The slot to the arena opened and the wolf was shoved out.

         Hissing as bright sunlight stabbed his eye, his paws touched hard, blood covered dirt. Shaking his head, he forced his working eye to adjust. Lifting his head with fake confidence, the wolf peered at his crazed opponent. A frown pulled at his lips, his muscles flexing beneath ragged black fur. His opponent was large, but the muscle that had once covered the large tiger was slowly fading away. The creature was starving, its ribs jutted out plainly, its filthy blood and dirt caked pelt clinging to the bone.

         The starved tiger's crazed yellow eyes fell upon the genetically enhanced wolf, saliva dripping from its parted jaws. Dulled yellow teeth were flashed, as the creature turned its body to face the wolf. Gnarly claws unsheathed from matted paws, the tiger unleashed a raspy but loud roar. Hunger illuminated the beast's eyes, the pupils slitted beneath the harsh light.

         The wolf's ears flattened, his muscles braced for an attack. He peeled his lips back, baring his sharp fangs with a savage growl. The tiger slowly limped towards his prey, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Gurgling noises escaped his throat with a hoarse chuckle, his limping advance coming closer and closer. The wolf crouched down, spreading his wings slightly, preparing to leap over his slowed opponent. A fierceness he had always felt when he was ready to fight in a battle returned the color to his one eyes, lighting the iris ablaze.

         The tiger seemed to sense that he was ready to make a move and unleashed another rattling roar, lunging for him with outstretched claws. The wolf sprang over the beast's lunge, his long canines extending from his jaws. He unleashed a hiss that sounded viper like, his hackles rising up. He spread his wings to their limits, allowing saliva to drip from his jaws.

         Jumping backwards, he avoided the claws of the beast as it nicked the fur on his chest. Twisting his right front paw, he swung himself around the beast, sinking his long sharp canines into the matted shoulder. Metallic blood filled his jaws, he wished that he could release the monster and spit out the pooling blood. But he bit down harder and received a painful roar. He dug his paws into the dirt, planting himself firm on the ground. Muscles strained around his neck, his jaws latched deep within skin, tissue and muscle. He had venom glands in his cheeks and he could choose to release venom if he so desired. He knew the venom he released into the monster's blood stream won't kill him imminently, but it'll sap his strength little by little. As he let the hot stick black fluid loose in the tiger, gnarly claws gouged the side of his face, drawing blood.

         He released the tiger, the crowds' cheers deafening him. He staggered backwards a few steps, shaking the scarlet drops off of his face. He felt nothing of the gouges, his adrenaline was rejecting any pain he would feel when the battle was over.

If he won.

It was clear that he had given the beast what it needed to gain more strength to attack him again. He blundered over to the bleeding wolf, saliva hanging from his mangled jaws. His paws thundered against the ground as his approach grew closer. The wolf was growing weary of playing defense, his muscles were screaming at him to give up and just die. But he was more determined than that and he crouched down into his attack pose, baring his fangs.

         Despite his readiness to intercept the brute, the monster collapsed at his paws, dark red blood gurgling in his throat. The yellow of his eyes bulged red and his scream were cut off by the blood choking him. His head grew still after a furious spurt of effort, his flank heaved once, then stilled. The wolf's one working eye slid down to look at the corpse at his paws and horror tore at his stomach. He turned his head away from the tiger's body and threw up. The stench of the already decaying body was too much for his now weak stomach. His gouges stung now that his adrenaline had died down and he clenched his teeth to suppress a screech.

         The crowd roared with excitement of the tiger's brutal death, their cheers nearly deafening him. He flattened his ears and lifted his left wing to shield himself from their view. He hated that they cheered for such sick actions, that they only thought of him as a killing machine. He just wanted to escape, dig a hole and flee from this wretched place forever.

         He felt a rough hand clasp the scruff of his neck and before he could think about stopping himself, his muzzle whipped around and his fangs latched into the handler's hand. Hot, thick scarlet blood spurted from the entry point and the sound of bone crunching caused the human to scream in pain. He yanked the human off of his feet and threw him to the ground, releasing his hand. Before the human could grab his electric rod, the wolf's jaws were clamped on his throat, the sharp fangs sinking deep into his flesh. Gurgled screams erupted from the struggling form beneath him, pressure increasing until he stopped writhing. The form struggled once, then stilled, blood streaming down the lifeless corpse.

         The wolf bunched his muscles up for a spring, he was ready to free himself, whether he died or not. But before he could propel himself away from the other human, an electric rod was stabbed into his right shoulder. An unrelenting electric current surged throughout his entire body, causing him to collapse and writhe until it ceased. When the current stopped, he was left with phantom jolts jerking his body violently while he still writhed on the dirt.

         His eye sight was beginning to fail him, dark spots clouding his field of vision. He caught a glimpse of seven large humans bounding his muzzle and paws together, then hosing his jerking body off of the ground. Once his eyes met solid darkness, he could no longer maintain consciousness.

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         "...Are you okay?" a concerned female voice caused his mind to snap back to reality. His eye opened quickly and he sat up with a stifled yelp. His entire body felt like they had beat him with rods for seven hours and he set his head back down. He wanted to groan badly, but he realized there were others in the chamber he was in, he didn't want to show them how weak he was. A light paw was pressed against his muscle rippled shoulder and he winced painfully.

         "Who's...there?" his voice sounded like he hadn't used it in years. He strained to see the female that had been talking to him.

         "My name is Halo Moon," she said. "My brother Reg and I share this chamber and you were thrown in, bleeding and bound." She moved her paw to his chest and he clenched his teeth in agony. "It seems that the electricity you received damaged some of your muscles. It'll be a while before you can sit up. I wouldn't risk it right now, you might tear something important." He craned his sore neck, despite the constant agony that surged through his muscles to look at her.

         She had a narrow, but shapely muzzle with tinges of gray around her nose. Her fur looked as though it had been cut forcefully, the coat uneven. Her ribs jutted out of her dirt covered white pelt, she looked as though she had not eaten in weeks. Her two pale gray bird wings were bound like his, pressed uncomfortably to her sides. Her eyes were a lively blue, like a spirit that could never be broken no matter what. She had a gentle smile that assured him that she wouldn't try anything to hurt him.

         He stretched upwards a bit, straining to see over her shoulder at the wolf behind her. Although he couldn't see him very well, he could determine what he looked like. Patchy brown and black fur with a scarred muzzle and notched ears, he knew this wolf won't be such a sweet companion as his sister. His angered yellow eyes glared at him from a distance, his lips twitching with warning.

         "Can you tell us your name?" Halo Moon urged. The wolf looked at her with his one good eye, slowly resting his head against the cool concrete.

         "I was called Denoro before my village was sacked and my pack killed before my eyes. Now, they called me Black Venom." He closed his eyes, weary from just the little effort of lifting his head.

         "Denoro is your real name?" Halo Moon inquired. "Why do they call you Black Venom?"

         He opened his one good eye slightly. "The humans in the crowd call you by your Arena name. After you win a few fights, they give you a new nickname and chant that when they favor you. I assume you two are a new catch?"

         Reg snorted. "Is that what you old wolves call the new combatants? Pathetic."

         The snobbishness of the young wolf's voice surged anger into his blood stream. He managed to find the strength to struggle to his paws and storm over to the arrogant wolf. He thrust his muzzle into his scarred face, a growl loud enough to echo around the chamber rising from his throat.

         "We're not old, you arrogant, snobbish, little idiot," he spat viciously. He let his fangs extend to their full length as he flashed them in front of his eyes. "We have all survived the Arena and if you want help to last just a single day in here, I suggest you lose this coat of ignorant fuzz and pull your ears out of your butt." With the surge of anger drawing to an end, Denoro collapsed. He was not able to stand again, and he let out a frustrated snarl.

         Halo Moon slid past him for a second, whispering something in Reg's ear, then went to help him up. She was surprisingly strong for her type of frame build and easily supported him as she guided him to a pile of rags the humans left as a bed for them. He flopped down on it, letting out a loud and long gasp, his muscle aching. The white wolf pressed her muzzle gently against his cheek.

         "Get some sleep," she murmured. "If any humans come for you, we'll keep them away." She licked him quickly on his cheek, her soft pelt pressed against his now shivering body. Her warmth seeped into his skin and he could no longer maintain consciousness. Only this time, he knew he could rest peacefully without fear. "Goodnight, Denoro."