Chapter 23 #3
“You shouldn’t be strong enough for that. No one should be strong enough for that.”
“Then you would rather I die out there?”
He rubs his face. “How could he even turn you into… this?”
I look down at my bare arms, decorated with scales. My eyes are tinged with yellow, which I only noticed once I saw myself in the mirror after returning from the sewers. “It’s not for me to tell.”
“He’s a mutant, isn’t he? He must be if he made you into one.”
“I’m not… I’m not a mutant.” I shouldn’t feel ashamed even if I were one, but I can’t bring myself to accept that. Yes, I’m more than human—I can feel it in every cell—but a mutant?
Elijah snorts. “Right, so these things on your skin are from the sun.”
“I don’t know what you want from me.” I also don’t know why I care. As long as Hector’s satisfied, that should be enough, yet Elijah’s feelings… they still matter. His disappointment with me is unpleasant.
“I’m asking you to fight against whatever is happening to you, Caden. I can see in your eyes that you’re not really here. I’m not sure how much of you is even left.”
“There is more of me than ever.”
“No. It’s more of him, but you can’t tell the difference.”
“Are we ready?”
Elijah tenses at the sound of Hector’s voice, his heart beating faster. I can smell the sweat breaking out over his skin.
“Your pet is ready,” he says frostily.
Hector stands next to him while I remain seated on the bench. “He’s not my pet, Elijah; he’s my soon-to-be champion.”
“Once the people see what you did to him—”
“Oh, please. They’ve been cheering like idiots for an albino giant. Do you think they won’t cheer for Denver’s Defender because of some scales?”
“They’ll accuse you of being a mutant.”
“They already do, yet here I am.”
Elijah sighs. “You’re dragging us into madness.”
“You told me the same thing years ago, and look at Denver now.”
“Then why would you want to risk it all?”
“Because none of this matters.”
“You’re insane. Our enemies have armies of their own. Even the Semi-Humans are rumored to be on their side!”
“Our army is not less capable.”
“In the sewers?”
Hector narrows his eyes. “Oh my. Your little birds have been busy. Or should I call them little rats?” He glances at me. “Thank you for helping him adjust, but he’s no longer fighting for your house.”
“You have him fully under your control, is that it?”
“On the contrary. I no longer have control over him.”
It takes me a moment to digest his words.
Since yesterday, when I received his final gift, I’ve stopped feeling him in my head.
For weeks, he was always there, sometimes a buzzing fly and sometimes an angry crow.
Whatever power he granted me yesterday, it must be strong enough to keep him out.
Although, if I concentrate hard enough, I can still feel a faint echo of him, like fading smoke.
“Leave us,” Hector tells Elijah, who gives me a final pitying look before exiting the locker room.
“Stand up. Let me look at you.”
I rise to my feet. Hector’s eyes travel up and down, lingering on where the scales have replaced my skin. “I’ve spent decades planning this moment. For a while there, I thought I hit gold with Isaac, but it never felt right.” He strokes my arms. “You feel just right, my masterpiece.”
I’m humbled by his words. “Thank you, sir.”
“The people out there might not like what they see at first, but once you put on a show for them, they’ll come around. Finn will, too. Give him some time.”
I’m momentarily horrified. I haven’t thought of him all day. Even with the upcoming fight, how could he have slipped my mind like that? “I don’t… I don’t feel well.”
Hector helps me sit and holds my face. “Clear your head and focus only on this fight. Getting distracted will be the end of you.”
I don’t want to die, so I follow his instructions and clear my head, letting go of my dread and doubt. “I’m okay.”
“Good. Just remember that putting on a show should not come at the cost of losing. Pace yourself. Think before you act, and more importantly, do not kill Isaac. After losing High Hope’s support because of their useless king, I’m going to need the giant to stick around.”
“I understand.”
He takes a step back and watches me with a smile of approval. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Now, go and make me proud.”
I nod, wishing for nothing more.
*
Two massive screens hang high above. I watch myself step onto the arena floor, the change in my appearance on full display.
The cheers quickly die down. My enhanced hearing makes it easy to catch thousands of murmurs all around me.
Confusion. Fear. Disgust. I block them out because my focus must remain on the giant standing on the other side of the arena, bare-chested and gripping a large wooden club.
I have one of my own, smaller than his but heavier than any weapon I was able to wield before.
The soft sand is strewn with drying puddles of blood from the two previous warm-up games.
I turn to watch Hector as he speaks through the loudspeakers about the importance of this fight.
He promises that whoever wins tonight will lead Denver in the upcoming war.
I sharpen my senses to get a feel for people’s reactions.
Some are excited to fight and to conquer, while others wish for quiet and peace like Elijah does.
But at the end of the day, it’s not their choice to make.
Next to Hector sits Finn, looking at anything that isn’t me. Watching him tugs at my chest, but the feeling is unpleasant—a distraction—so I pluck him out of my thoughts like a splinter.
Hector declares that this fight is not to the death, since both Isaac and I are crucial for Denver’s safety. When either of us wishes to surrender, we must raise our palm while lying on the ground.
With the formalities out of the way, Hector shouts, “Fight!”
Isaac charges immediately, his footsteps sending vibrations through the ground.
He looks like a mountain heading my way, his club large enough to break me with a single swing.
I stand my ground, remembering Hector’s request to put on a show.
When Isaac is about to swing his club, I dodge to the right, moving faster than seems possible, as if I were slowing down time.
The crowd erupts into cheers when the club hits the ground.
I dodge another swing aiming at my head, my movements as fluid as a stream.
When Isaac lifts his club again, I swing my own and smash it at his ribs.
He roars and staggers back, watching me with fury.
Did he think it would be so easy?
He shakes his head to refocus himself. The next time he swings, I foolishly try to block with my own club, but I’m still no match for him in raw strength.
He smashes my club in two, sending it flying from my hand.
I’m momentarily stunned, and Isaac uses the opportunity to kick my chest, sending me backward to crash on my back.
My ribcage is cracked, but I can already feel my bones mend themselves.
The crowd is almost loud enough to drown the sound of Isaac’s footsteps, but I feel them vibrating through the ground.
I roll away a second before he can slam his club onto my chest. This fight shouldn’t be to the death, but that blow could have killed me.
Did he ever fight without killing his opponent?
I jump to my feet, but before I can dash away, he kicks my back, sending me down on my hands and knees.
The crowd laughs, but they are no more than flies in the background.
I roll again and try to tackle Isaac by kicking his ankle, but the mountain remains standing.
I jump back to my feet, dodging his swings until I’m able to put some distance between us.
I have to do something about his club now that I don’t have mine, even though facing his fists might not be much better.
He strides toward me with a toothy grin, not in a hurry.
“You think that a few ugly scales will make you as strong as Father’s creation?” His thundering voice cuts through the humming of the crowd. “You’re not worthy to lead an army!”
I watch him closely, knowing he’s trying to distract me.
Sure enough, he goes for a kick, and when I dodge, he swings his club, missing me by inches.
I need more time to plan, so I run away as the crowd boos and laughs.
Isaac chases me, and although I can run faster than ever, his long legs help him close the distance fast. I’m embarrassed to have Hector watching this, but my mission is to win and survive.
I run to the edges of the arena, where the wall curves.
Fully aware of the distance between Isaac and me thanks to the vibration in the ground, I slow my steps to time my next move perfectly.
I plant my foot on the wall and push myself sideways, using the momentum to twist in the air and drive my foot into Isaac’s face.
My kick isn’t strong enough to knock him down, but the impact makes him tumble into the wall and break the wooden beams with his head.
I land on my feet with my foot throbbing from the kick.
The second I notice the massive club lying on the ground, I lunge for it.
It’s extremely heavy, but I’m able to pick it up.
With all the strength I have, I swing at Isaac’s shoulder.
Still on his knees, he shoots his hand up and grabs the club in time to stop the blow.
Purple blood runs from a cut in his forehead.
When he smiles, the blood slips into his mouth. “Nice.”
I try to pull the club back, but he tightens his grip. Since I can’t snatch his weapon, I kick his wrist, relieved to hear the bones cracking. He shouts and lets go of the club. I use the opportunity to throw the damn thing onto a flight of stairs between the bleachers.
With neither of us armed, I smash my fists into Isaac’s face, landing a few strong punches before he pushes me back and rises to his feet.
His eyes seem less focused, so I try to hit him again, but he smashes his palm against the side of my head, sending me crashing to the ground.
My head explodes in pain, blood dripping from my ear.
I crawl away as fast as I can, but he kicks me in the ribs and sends me flying.
I land on my back, gasping for air. My ribs are badly hurt, and although they’re already healing, I need more time.
A massive shadow grows around me. Through the sharp pain, I roll in time to avoid Isaac’s foot slamming down. I must end this quickly or surrender, but surrendering is out of the question.
I rise to my feet with a growl of pain and walk backward while facing Isaac.
He grins, looking like the stuff of nightmares with the purple blood covering his face.
I can barely stand, while Isaac seems like he can fight for hours.
Despite Hector’s gift, I’m no match for this beast, and my shame is scorching.
“A leader of nothing!” he shouts. “A disgrace!”
I hold my ground as he swings his fist at my head, only dodging at the last second.
But instead of moving away from him, I sharply move forward, smashing my head into his crotch.
He shouts and staggers back, while the crowd laughs and cheers.
I don’t give him a second to collect himself before sending my fists into his knee until it snaps.
He falls down, and I hurry to straddle his chest, unleashing a tornado of fists down on his face and chest. He tries to shove me off, but I command my bones to become heavier, and it somehow works.
My hands might as well be made of iron as I slam them down on Isaac’s unprotected flesh.
I almost don’t notice his raised open palm, and when I do, I stop mid-swing.
He’s surrendering.
I look down at his bloody face, his broken teeth and nose. I defeated the giant. Does that make me David or Goliath?
I pant, covered in blood and sweat. Pain rises across my body now that the adrenaline is quickly slipping out of my system, but I’d rather be hurting as a winner than defeated like Isaac. The ringing in my ears subsides, leaving room for the roaring cheers of the crowd.
Champion! Champion! Champion!
I look around to see Hector, standing and clapping proudly. Out of thousands of people, Finn is the only one sitting and looking ill.
Fuck him.
Before I rise to my feet, I give one final look at Isaac.
He’s watching Hector with hatred, as if he’s been betrayed by him.
Maybe he’s realizing he was meant to lose this fight, that Hector changed his mind about the promise he’d given him.
A dark thought sparks in my head. He won’t accept his defeat.
He’ll search for revenge against Hector, and I might not be there to stop him.
I can’t accept that.
With the crowd still cheering all around me, I smash my fists into Isaac’s neck, breaking bones. Purple blood gushes from his open mouth while his eyes stare at me in horror. I punch his throat hard enough to sever his head from his body.
The crowd has stopped cheering, leaving a heavy silence to settle over the arena. I turn to look at Hector, who glares at me with shock. That look is more painful than any of Isaac’s punches, but I did it for him, even if he doesn’t see it yet. And Finn… Finn has left.
I rise from Isaac’s bloodied corpse. His eyes are still wide open in his decapitated head.
Through the deafening silence of the crowd, I step out of the arena for the last time.