Chapter 9 #2
“As much as I enjoyed how nasty she was, I should have expected she would turn it on us. She knew we both wanted her. She made sure we didn’t figure it out as she manipulated both of us into doing whatever she wanted.
She reveled in that. It was an incredible thing to witness, but terrible when applied to us. ”
“Erm… No offense intending, but she does not sounding like a very nice person.”
Vytln laughed. Haven sounded so careful, so cautious. Like she wanted to avoid upsetting him. It was precious. Something Yl’ln would never have done. The differences between the two females were as great as the ones between J’tll and Vytln.
“She wasn’t a nice person,” he confirmed. “She was terrible. Cruel. Cold. Dangerous. In my old life, those were very admirable and desirable traits.”
“Mm…”
“When she went into my trap, she did it knowing that it would make Kldyn crazy. That he would consider it an affront against him. That was the thing that finally pushed him into making a move against me. Well, that’s probably not true.
Kldyn and I were never close. We were always in competition.
That was just the thing that finally made him act to get rid of me completely. ”
“Huh?”
“Rik-Vane isn’t a prison. Though it feels like one.
People who go there do it voluntarily. At least most of them do.
There are some born there. There are some taken against their will.
I was sent there. By Kldyn. He took over the family, cut down all my power, turned my allies against me, and stole Yl’ln from me.
And when he took everything, when I was powerless, he sent me to Rik-Vane.
He said it was to prove my loyalty. It was actually a death sentence. ”
When he closed his eyes, he could so easily go back to that place. To the life he hated but still kept living. To a time when he’d carved his survival out of the lives of others. To a place that fed on brutality and pain…
***
J’tll put his foot to the chest of the male he had laid out on the ground, then used the grip he had on his arm to twist and pull. The shoulder popped out first, then the bone snapped as J’tll applied pressure to his elbow, breaking it by shoving it backwards.
The male below him was screaming. Thrashing. But J’tll could barely hear him over the roar of the crowd as they cheered for his agony. There weren’t many of them, only about two dozen or so. But they were all suckers, betting on who would win in this fight.
And the winner was the one who came out alive.
Dropping the now mangled arm, J’tll removed his foot from his chest. The male flopped over on his belly and tried crawling away. Definitely seeing his end coming and needing to struggle for his own life, even knowing it was pointless.
J’tll grabbed him by the hair and jerked him up. The crowd jeered. They laughed. They spit through the bars of the cage. Disrespecting the loser for his shame and defeat.
J’tll put his hands on either side of his head and squeezed.
It wasn’t a quick death. It certainly wasn’t painless. He screamed and thrashed, but his body was weak, beaten and broken. His arm wasn’t the only bone J’tll had destroyed.
The crowd loved it. They relished the violence, they laughed at his pain. One male had his cock out and was stroking it rapidly, enjoying the agony and death before him like a sex vid.
The skull cracked under his hands. Shattered.
Turned into a messy, bloody, gooey mess as he crushed the male’s head completely.
His body shuddered and went limp. His gray fur was already stained with blood, now only made worse by the way his head had been cracked.
J’tll let him go and the corpse collapsed forward, mangled and dead.
J’tll spit on him as well, adding to the insult of his defeat, before turning and walking away.
He had a few bruises on him as well, but the fight had been, overall, boring.
His competitor had not been a willing participant.
Someone threw him in here as fodder. Meat for the grinder.
Quite literally. J’tll didn’t know who it was, but he was willing to bet on the male who was even now coming at the sight of the violently dead.
The crowd was rushing for the bookie, trying to get their winnings from their bets.
They didn’t trade credz here on Rik-Vane.
Currency was useless in this place, but goods and resources were worth more than their weight in gold.
Some would only be able to eat today because of what they won on betting on J’tll’s victory.
J’tll would get his portion of the winnings later.
He wouldn’t say he trusted the bookie to bring it, but the male knew he’d track him down and do worse than just crushing his skull if he tried to rip him off.
Their partnership was one built on fear, and all of it was from that sneaky little thief that used J’tll as both protection and a living.
Stepping from the cage, into the back halls of the fighting ring, J’tll made his way to his room.
The halls were once part of a building from the time when the station had been functioning, but the fighting cage had been built sometime afterwards.
J’tll didn’t know by who. All he knew was that the gang that previously ran the fighting ring had tried to stiff him in payment, and he’d shown them how he had earned the name the Brute.
Now, the fighting rings were his. Rik-Vane didn’t have laws so much, but if you took something, it was yours until someone else took it from you. So, he lived here, he let the bookies run the fighting rings, and he took mechanic jobs out the back.
All in all, it wasn’t a bad set up.
Wasn’t good, but at least he had a stable roof over his head.
That counted for something. And he also had a water spout in the basement.
That was worth a lot. It had been a secret the gang had been keeping, and one he kept in turn.
Water, fresh water, was worth killing for.
If it got out he had access to a water pipe, he’d never stop fighting off challengers.
Luckily, his bloody reputation proceeded him.
He needed to wash off the other male’s blood and brains off his hands. There were chunks of flesh and bone and fur under his claws, splattered all up his arms. He needed to get it off and get ready for his next job. Someone was trading him fresh meat for fixing their generator.
J’tll had many jobs. It was the only way to really survive on Rik-Vane.
Fighting rings were good money, but they were brutal and risky.
Using his mechanical knowledge to repair things was more likely to get him food and supplies, but it came with a different risk.
If someone wanted to try to scam him out of labor, he needed to put fists and boots on them.
Luckily, the name he earned in the ring made it easier to scare others into paying. And making examples out of the brave few who tried not to anyway did the rest.
Walking into the room that had a water pipe in the back, he grabbed a bowl and bent to use the lever to collect enough to rinse off with.
Water gathered, J’tll crouched and began rinsing off his hands. Most of the blood wasn’t his, but there was one long cut along the back of his forearm that his opponent could claim.
He might not have been there willingly, but he fought with everything he had.
J’tll respected that. It was why he only crushed his head.
If he’d really hated him, he would have prolonged his suffering.
There were times when he made his opponents beg him for death first – sometimes through broken, jagged teeth – before he’d grant them a slow, merciless one.
The sounds of the drops splashing back into the bowl must have covered the steps of the male that came into the room, because J’tll only knew he was there by the shifting of the dark shadows near the entrance.
He was up on his feet in an instant, fists raised, ready to fight.
It wouldn’t be the first time that someone tried to kill him in what they assumed was a vulnerable moment post-fight.
But J’tll didn’t have vulnerable moments, and this person was just going to be the next example left in a grotesque pile of broken meat and bones on the streets for the desperate to scavenge like beasts.
But the shadowy figure with burning red eyes standing in the doorway didn’t approach. The light from outside cast his face in darkness, but highlighted the crown of sharp spikes on his head. Long, wicked quills even sharper than J’tll’s short horns.
J’tll’s heart skipped, for just a moment, in fear before his jaw tightened and he readied himself for the fight he knew would be coming.
Because he knew this shadow. Though he had never seen him before, everyone knew of this monster.
The Bleeding Shadow. The monster in the darkness that killed with impunity and was never caught or harmed.
A mere figure in the darkness that left only bloodied footsteps and horrified whispered.
J’tll had no quarrel with him, but he wasn’t surprised he was there. Probably after the water spout, if he had to guess.
“Well?” He asked, his voice a rough grunt. “What are you waiting for? Let’s do this.”
The shadowy figure didn’t move. Didn’t raise their fists. Their voice, when they spoke, was calm and even. “I have no desire to fight you.”
“Then, what do you want?”
“I want to recruit you.”
J’tll scoffed. “You aren’t the first. And I’ll tell you what I told everyone else: I don’t fight for others. I’m not a trained beast for you to control.”
“I don’t need your fists. I need your mechanical skills.” The Bleeding Shadow held up his hand, palm up, like he was holding something. “And in return, I’m offering you an escape.”
“I’m not a prisoner. I fight in the cages because it benefits me. No one controls me.”
“I don’t mean escape from the cages. I mean escape from Rik-Vane.”
J’tll, stunned, stared at this madmale for a long minute before snarling. “You’re mocking me now? Get out!”
He charged, fists raised. He was going to break this short male and leave him a bloody mess. The Bleeding Shadow would be no more.
J’tll didn’t see the blow that struck his chest, but he felt it. Like getting struck by a battering ram, it drove the breath from his lungs, threw him back, and cracked a rib. Pain was familiar. He forced it down, getting his feet back under him and charged again.
The second blow was no different than the first.
The Brute was strong and ruthless.
The Bleeding Shadow was better.
It was over in moments. J’tll was gasping, blood on his tongue, trickling down his mouth, as he slumped in the corner. He looked up at the Shadow as he approached, and he was…
Relieved.
Glad it was over.
He grinned at the male that stood over him, not a scratch on his gray body.
“Kill me then,” he said. “You win.”
The Shadow cocked his head back, red eyes gleaming. “I told you, I don’t want to fight you. I want to offer you a deal.”
J’tll blinked, confused.
But he listened…
***
The gentle stroking of soft fingers on Vytln’s horns made his eyes snap open. The delicate touch pulled him out of his memories with a sharp jolt. Haven had reached her arm out and was petting him. Caressing him so sweetly.
And he should hate it, but he didn’t.
That fight with Tanin was one of his most vivid memories. It was easy to get lost in it. Not only because it had been so painful, but because it was probably the worst loss Vytln had ever suffered. Even Kyldn hadn’t been able to put him down that quickly or easily.
Tanin was smaller in stature and musculature compared to Vytln, but he was powerful, he was lethal, and he was skilled. Vytln couldn’t even claim that he landed a blow. Tanin had taken him down so effortlessly, he had no choice but to give him respect.
He still thought Tanin was a madmale, but he’d agreed to work on whatever engine he wanted.
He’d lost the fight, yet Tanin let him live.
In that way, in the culture of Rik-Vane, Vytln owed him.
It was as he continued to work for him that he realized that Tanin wasn’t just a madmale, he was dedicated and connected enough to make his delusions come true.
And now, years later, Tanin still had his respect.
He still had his loyalty. Not just for sparing his life, but for giving him a much better one.
He didn’t miss what he once had. The happy memories of the past were all tainted by the actions of his brother and once lover.
He barely remembered those days. He didn’t dwell on them, think about them, or mourn what was gone.
Instead, he prized what he had. What he had been given. The defeat he had suffered that led him to this new life.
And most of all, he yearned.
He looked up.
Haven was in his trap, smiling despite the fact that he had her imprisoned, and was humming softly as she played with his horns.
“I’m not being vicious,” she said. “Sorry. I’m not being manipulating either.”
“I know,” he breathed softly. “I don’t want that anymore. That was a different male who appreciated those traits.”
“What do you appreciating now?”
He was silent for a long minute. He hadn’t thought about it because there was no point. Dreaming in what he desired from a female was for young males with hope.
Except she asked, so he was thinking about it now.
And he thought, more than viciousness and wickedness, he found it more admirable to be a hard worker. To be someone who was passionate about something. Someone who was soft and warm and, most importantly, trustworthy.
Someone more like Haven.
He couldn’t admit it. Not out loud. So, he asked instead-
“Want to help me repair the engine?”
“Yes!” Haven yelled excitedly, as he figured she would. Completely distracted from her questions. Her joy made his heart jump.