Two
demon guards clad in black body armor entered the barracks. Their red eyes
glowed behind dark face shields. They approached Victor and one guard said,
“Get up and come with us.”
All
the guards sounded and looked alike. They were even the same height and body
structure.
Victor
knew better than to refuse. There would be no point in fighting, even if he was
so inclined.
He
guessed he would be going to one of two possible places. It would either be the
punishment chamber because he’d killed Slate too quickly or -- and this was
more likely -- to the demon masters who had bargained with him to kill for
their entertainment.
The
guards brought Victor out of the barracks and down a steel corridor to an
elevator at the end. They boarded it. Except for the soft whir of the elevator
descending, there was silence.
It
stopped with an almost imperceptible lurch. The door opened and Victor,
accompanied by the guards, stepped into a spacious room with an enormous glass
ball in the center of it. Several couches surrounded it. While the upholstery
resembled leather, Victor’s sense of smell told him the couches were covered
with material that hadn’t come from any four-legged animal.
He’d
been in this room before. Here, the demons had bargained with him for the lives
of his fellow gladiators, their mates, and their cubs. Here, he’d traded his
integrity and his soul for their lives.
The
guards disappeared into dark corners of the room.
Since
he had no intention of sitting on the foul furniture, Victor stood near the
glass ball and waited.
The
ball glowed faintly at first. Then it brightened. From within, two demon
masters -- one male and one female -- stared at him. He knew they weren’t
actually there. The ball was similar to television. He could see and hear them,
but they were far away.
The
male had ink-black, elbow-length hair. Tall and slim, he was dressed from head
to foot in red. The female had short white hair. Her skin was nearly as pale as
her form-fitting white dress. Both demons stared at him with black eyes.
“Your
game has improved, Victor,” said the male, “but I’m afraid you still haven’t
mastered the art of performing. Your kills aren’t entertaining enough, but for
now that’s beside the point. We haven’t called you here to critique your style,
but for another reason.”
“We
have something special planned for you,” the female continued. “There’s a new
contender in the tower -- one who has seen you fight and wishes to face you in
the arena.”
Thank you so much for hosting me, Marie!
ReplyDeleteMy pleasure!
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