Little Dead Monsters (16 page)

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Authors: Kieran Song

BOOK: Little Dead Monsters
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Chapter Thirty-Seven.

 

 

 

Its eleven-foot long body was menacing and each stride it took displayed its power and grace. Dog thought it was beautiful.

The tiger snarled and narrowed its golden eyes on Dog as it stalked him, each footstep precise and taken with a graceful caution. The silence of the crowd suggested that they were as surprised as Dog was.

Above in Ryker’s pavilion, he heard Allegra calling out to him but the sudden roar of the crowd overtook the sound of her voice. They were ready for blood, and the tiger looked ready to draw it. He glanced up at the balcony and caught a glimpse of Allegra reaching out to him in a futile effort, the space between them vast and infinite. He closed his eyes and smiled. Maybe she had forgiven him after all. When he opened his eyes again, Allegra was gone and in her place stood Ryker. He was screaming at him to fight. Dog knew he wanted a show out of this. Live or die, it didn’t matter, as long as Dog pleased the crowd. This night was one to be remembered forever.

The tiger bared its teeth, like curved ivory daggers, as it drew closer. The beast roared and Dog felt its hot breath upon his bare skin. He was entranced by the tiger’s raw strength; a magnificent creature that was haunting and beautiful.

He had seen a tiger only once before, and that was on a TV in a bus terminal. The winter storm that night was ruthless and Dog knew that staying outside would kill him so he wandered into the bus terminal, hoping to find some shelter. He was shivering and barely had energy to stand. When the fat-bellied security guard walked towards him, Dog was worried he would kick him out. The fat man looked him up and down, his eyes full of questions, and Dog stood there helplessly, delirious from the fever that took hold of him. Finally the security guard nodded and pointed to the empty seats by gate seven. “You can sit over there. I’ll get you a blanket and some hot soup and we’ll see where the morning takes us.”

Dog tried to speak but he didn’t know what to say. It had been so long since anyone showed him kindness. He was almost skeptical, but didn’t question any of it.

He drank the soup in his hands and stared at the TV, glowing above his head. He watched in fascination as the tiger moved across the screen in a reality so far away. Perhaps it was the fever taking control of his consciousness, but for those few moments, Dog lived in the tiger’s skin as it hunted, fed, mated.

And he dreamed.

When Dog woke the next morning, he found two police officers standing over him, the fat security guard behind them. Betrayed once again.

“Don’t worry,” one of the officers had said. “We’re here to help you.”

He knew what their help meant; being dragged into their system. Like the tiger he witnessed on the television, he fought them, his oppressors, and he escaped into the uncertainty of another winter’s day.

And here Dog stood now, present before the beautiful creature he once marveled on the television.

“Nostalgia,” Dog smiled as the tiger crouched in an attack position. The creature was ready to strike.

The crowd was in a frenzy and they began the usual ritual of chanting his name. They ached to see their champion fight the tiger in a glorious battle. Life and death was an afterthought. All that mattered was the fight…and the blood.

As Dog stared at the tiger, his purpose became clear. He knew what needed to be done.

From above he heard Ryker scream, “Fight damn it! Fight and kill him!” Dog was unsure of who it was intended for.

“Goodbye Allegra,” he whispered. “Maybe in another life.”

As the tiger roared, ready to pounce, Dog let the bat drop from his hand and he took a weary breath.

“I’m tired,” he said. “Let me rest.”

The tiger heard his prayers and sprung on him violently, tearing at his exposed neck. Dog closed his eyes and gave into the pain and the warmth that followed.

He fell onto his back as the tremendous weight of the animal pinned him to the ground and the curved daggers tore into the muscles of his neck.

Everything suddenly grew brighter and he saw her once again. Her beauty was ethereal. She had come to take him home so he could finally rest.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

And those were his last words.

Chapter Thirty-Eight.

 

 

 

Allegra fell to her knees and pounded the ground with her fists. She cursed and screamed as if she were possessed.

“You asshole,” she wept. “You ugly piece of shit.”

“You dare speak to me like that?” the Goblin hissed as he raised his backhand. It was Damien who grabbed Ryker and pulled him away.

“She’s not far from the truth,” Damien said. “You are pretty ugly. She did forget to mention stupid. So very, very stupid.”

Ryker was taken aback. “Don’t call me stupid. I built this place and made it successful.”

“You built it with my money,” Damien said. “And now you’ve thrown it all away. I’m starting to think that Edmund was the true brains behind everything, seeing as how you have none of your own. But of course, you had him killed as well.”

Ryker looked weary. “Don’t say another word about Edmund.”

“This fight was a travesty.”

“I gave the crowd what they wanted to see,” Ryker said.

“No. Listen.”

Allegra heard it as well; the crowd was turning on the Arena. They were shouting and cursing as phsyical altercations broke out between the patrons and Ryker's men. The crowd was furious.

“You conned these people out of money and their well-loved champion,” Damian sighed. “Your stupid ego just cost you everything. If Dog had fought and died while giving these people a show, then everyone would have accepted his death. But that wasn’t the case. You gave Dog an opponent who he had no hope of defeating and instead he chose to lay down and die. You took away any will of his to fight. What is the point of all this if there is no combat?”

“Dog was supposed to fight,” Ryker said. “It was supposed to be a grand spectacle.”

It was Tiberius who spoke this time. “You put Dog in a hopeless situation. This wasn’t a fight,” he said. “It was a feeding.”

Damian laughed. “Yes it was, wasn’t it? Your most profitable fighter was tossed in there like a piece of meat and fed to a tiger.”

“I had to do something,” Ryker said. “He killed four of my men. He was threatening to turn the Arena against me.”

“Congratulations. Your threat is now dead,” Damien said. “But instead of the slaves turning against you, you’ve turned the crowd instead. I might also point out that the people that frequent this place are not the most forgiving in nature. I think I saw a few members of the Defalco organization here and also three charters of the Dark Riders motorcycle club. Good luck.” Damian picked up his coat and motioned for his security to head for the door.

“You’re leaving?” Ryker was surprised. “But what about business?”

Damian stopped in his tracks at the door. “Ah right, thank you for reminding me. I was leaning towards a venture partnership to expand your Arena but after today’s display, I decided you’re too stupid to do business with. We are officially finished, and to tell you the truth I’m actually quite relieved. It’s been a lot of hard work and quite costly using my resources to keep this place a secret from the rest of society. Paying off the right people doesn’t come cheap.”

“It’s just a minor setback,” Ryker pleaded.

“No,” Damien said. “It isn’t. You threw away this place’s financial stability. There is no more profit to be had here. You have also violated our initial agreement of revenue sharing. As per what was agreed, I want my money returned to me by the end of the week. All of it.”

“I can’t pay that all back,” Ryker stammered.

“Find a way,” Damian said. “As of today I no longer have any association with the Arena.” He turned to Tiberius and nodded at him. “You look well,” he said with a sly smile, and then he took his leave with his men following close behind.

Ryker looked at the remnants of the Arena. It was chaos.

He had filled the seats with an audience of criminals: killers, mercenaries, and thieves. And now they have all turned. His guards struggled to maintain order, but many of them were overwhelmed.

“I want this controlled,” Ryker ordered. “Drag everyone’s sorry ass into this if needed.”

Dallas nodded and followed Ryker out of the room. Only Allegra and Tiberius remained.

She went to the edge of the balcony and looked down into the pits where Dog lay motionless on the red-stained sands. A chunk of his flesh was torn from his neck and his eyes were wide, staring into nothing. The tiger lay next to the body, resting.

“I’m so sorry Dog. I’m so sorry.” She didn’t even know what she was apologizing for, but she felt like it was all her fault. Everything felt so very wrong. Tiberius walked over to her and whispered into her ear. He made her an offer.

She was stunned by his suggestion.

“No,” she said. “You can’t.”

Tiberius took her by the hands and reassured her. “I owe it to you and to Dog. He needs to be at peace.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine.

 

 

 

It had been a while since Tiberius last walked through the damp stone corridors leading to the pit. The smell was still the same, like a butcher’s den.

All around him, he heard the sounds of anarchy—screaming and gunfire—but he ignored it. His focus was on one thing only. Retrieving Dog’s body. The entrance to the pit was unmanned and with Ryker’s guards busy trying to subdue the crowd, the gate was left wide open.

Tiberius stepped onto the sand.

The tiger noticed his presence and immediately sprung into a defensive position and growled. It bared its teeth, the same ones that tore out Dog’s life. Tiberius was impassive and slowly reached for the bat that Dog had discarded, his eyes never leaving the animal. He gripped the bat in one hand and polished the wooden surface with the other while the tiger watched. The two faced each other in silence, both cautious and anticipating the fight yet to come.

“Come on then,” Tiberius finally said. The tiger leapt at him.

He gripped the bat at both ends and braced for the impact as the creature landed on top of him. They both crashed into a heap and Tiberius found himself pinned to the ground while the tiger snarled at him from above.

Tiberius positioned the tip of the bat underneath the tiger’s jaw and pushed the creature’s head back, struggling to avoid its fangs, only inches away.

The tiger was resilient and Tiberius felt daggers tear into his chest as the animal’s claws left a bloody gash in his flesh. He ignored the pain and continued pushing the tiger’s head with the tip of the bat as the muscles in his shoulders smoldered into an aching burn. 

The beast roared and tried to take another swipe with its claw but Tiberius delivered a powerful kick to its soft underbelly and the tiger fell back, allowing the former champion to clamber onto his feet.

The tiger shrugged off the attack and charged again with uncanny speed. A bright orange blur flashed before Tiberius’s eyes and smashed against him. He felt winded, but managed to regain his footing. Like a domineering dance partner, he struggled with the tiger as it tried to wrestle him back onto the ground.

He drove the end of the bat into the fleshy pit of the tiger’s jaw and it collapsed to the sand, but only for a second, as it sprung back onto its paws with its cat-like instinct.

“Not so confident anymore are you?” Tiberius said.

They slowly circled each other, none willing to strike first. Tiberius positioned the bat over his shoulder, ready to swing with all his might should the beast lunge at him. The tiger, however, was patient.

Tiberius decided to provoke it.

He reached down and grabbed a handful of sand while the creature eyed him with suspicion, but it kept itself at a distance, patiently waiting for the opportune time to attack. That didn’t last long. Tiberius hurled the sand at its face and the beast let out a vicious roar and pounced again. He underestimated the animal’s speed and before he could bring the bat up to defend himself, the tiger’s claw found its mark and savagely struck the right side of his face.

His head throbbed as he staggered backwards. Instinctively he touched the wetness of his cheek with his free hand and felt the exposed muscle through flaps of skin. Tiberius tried to open his mouth but the pain was too excruciating. Warm blood pooled into his mouth and he spat it out.

The tiger lunged again, sensing weakness, ready to strike the killing blow.

Tiberius was ready this time. With speed that rivaled his opponent, he drove the end of the bat forcefully into the tiger’s left eye and he felt the crunch of bone behind the weight of the weapon. The tiger howled and leapt backwards, stunned.

Its left eye was in ruins as blood dripped down the side of it. Tiberius found another opening and he swung the bat as hard as he could, shattering the tiger’s front right leg. The beast immediately collapsed to the ground with a yelp.

He stared at the broken creature. It was finished.

Tiberius couldn’t help but feel empathy for it. The beast was stolen away from his home, and brought to this foreign place, forced to use its animal instincts to survive. It was no different than all the other slaves.

“You’re free now,” Tiberius said. “Broken, but free.”

The tiger turned its head away and licked its crushed leg. Its left eyelid was tightly shut as a red trickle leaked down the side of it, drawing a thin crimson line across its orange fur. It whimpered, like a wounded cub.

Tiberius walked over to Dog’s body and picked him up in his arms and took him away from the pit forever.

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