It Rained Red Upon the Arena (10 page)

“They might notice me, but I still won’t notice them,” he replied.

Nick and Phillip made their way to the dungeon to train. Back to wooden swords and hacking at hay. During training a Refect came to Nick with a paper in hand, “Mr. Bint, it looks like you’ll be fighting Golden in two weeks’ time. Good luck.”

The Refect walked away while Phillip was still swinging his sword at a bundle of hay. “Hey,” Nick said to Phillip. “Hey!”

Phillip turned around slowly and said, “What is it?”

“Did you hear?” Nick looked at Phillip with an encouraging smile on his face. “The Refect said I’m facing Golden in the arena in two weeks. So tell me about him. What do you know about him? Do you know why they call him golden? How does he like to fight?”

Phillip held up his palm to Nick’s face, “Easy there, eager child. Enough with the questions. Alright. Golden is a Paplon, he fights with a sword and shield in every battle. I’d say he’s been here for about three months. I’ve never seen him fight; that’s just what I heard about him. He is taller than you and probably stronger than you. He is going to have a longer reach with his sword, so keep that in mind. But really, it doesn’t matter what I tell you about a fighter, you’re going to have to adapt to different circumstances instantaneously while you are fighting in the arena. Knowledge before a fight will only get you so far, but quick thinking in the arena is where it all counts.”

“Got it,” Nick said, and he stood up straight and began working again on his form. They practiced quietly for a few more minutes. Nick slashed his wooden sword ferociously at the hay bundle in front of him. He had a smile on his face that he tried to hide, but it was no use.

“Hey, Phillip, one other thing,” Nick said.

“Yea, what is it, kid?”

“I’m going to make it to my eighteenth birthday. I doubted I’d live to see it after the past few days.”

“Oh, is that right? When is your birthday?” Phillip asked as he stabbed at hay before him.

“My birthday is next weekend, on Saturday. That was supposed to be the weekend where I’d join the Refect academy. My best friend Thomas turns eighteen on Thursday. We had a plan to both enroll on my birthday.”

Nick stopped the swinging of his sword and took a break. “I really miss my best friend. I always wonder what he thinks of me now. I wonder if he thinks I’m a murderer. I wonder if he still thinks of me as a friend.” All of a sudden Nick crouched to the floor and stared at the blank wall. “I was so close to becoming a Refect. We were so close to our goal. I hope Thomas keeps up with his training. I know he will do well when he joins the academy.”

Phillip extended his hand to hoist Nick back up. “Nick, you have to understand, the world outside of these walls keeps moving. But thinking about the outside world while we are in here is infectious. It takes hold of your mind, and it doesn’t let go. You need to stop yourself from thinking about it and focus on the task at hand. That task is always your next fight. Stay focused and determined, and who knows? You might be one of the lucky ones who make it out of the arena.”

Nick knew that Phillip was right. He had to realize that his world was in the confines of the arena caves. The world he knew now resided around cell bars and death. The words of advice that came from Phillip day after day helped Nick stay on a straight path. Nick appreciated the new friend he had made. Nick felt that if he had stuck to his plan of not making a friend or getting close with anyone in the arena, he would have surely died in his fight the day before. Phillip guided and trained him at a time when Nick felt he was the most alone in his entire life.

The two continued their practice. Swing after swing at the hay. The dungeon became hot as the practice continued on. Sweaty bodies and heavy breathing in every direction heated the dungeon into a sauna. Grunts from the inmates synchronized in unison with the slashing of hay echoed through the dungeon. Nearly all the inmates would take advantage of the time to train in the dungeon.

Nick had noticed that there was a Paplon male who cornered a Paplon girl with no Refect around to see. The Reza had pinned the girl against the wall with his right arm, and with his other he was feeling up the girl’s butt. She was struggling to get out of his hold.

Nick tapped Phillip on the shoulder and said, “Look over there. We’ve got to do something. No one’s around to help her.” Nick took a step forward, only to be grabbed backwards by Phillip.

“Easy there, kid. You don’t want to get involved in this. They’ll punish you, too, even if you’re trying to help. Give it a second, and the Refect will notice.”

Within seconds a Refect noticed the act. He started to run over while he screamed, “Red, red, red!” Six Refect soon swarmed the man and started to beat him to the ground. While he was on the ground they continued to kick him. Everybody stopped their practice and stood in silence while they watched the man being beaten. Two Refect dragged the unconscious and bloody inmate out of the dungeon.

“See, that would have been you if you had tried to help the girl,” said Phillip. “That man was Hammer Mills, and the girl’s name is Rose. The inmates all see Rose as the most attractive female here. And the lack of intimacy over a period of time will make some of these guys do stupid things such as that, thinking no one will see. The Refect always see. They’ll take him into a room and continue to beat him today. The worst of it comes on his fight day. They’ll injure him somehow. They usually break the hands. They do this so that using a weapon is nearly impossible. They give a death sentence to those who break the rules here. The worst part is that they never tell us the rules. We just learn from other’s mistakes. Learn from this, and don’t do anything stupid. Then chances are good that you won’t break a rule.”

Chapter Eight

The days continued to fly by at the arena. Everyday Nick learned a little more of his new home, everyday he took in a new lesson. Nick learned from the idiot named Hammer Mills who returned from his beating with a new face, almost unrecognizable. On his fight day he did not return to his cell at night; the last thing he saw was the bloody sands of the arena.

Nick didn’t know for sure on whether or not the Refect injured Hammer on his fight day; there was no proof. But he believed Phillip. Lessons such as that kept Nick quiet and out of the way of trouble. But no matter how much he would have loved to stay in the shadows, he knew he could only stay hidden from the inmates for so long.

It was a week before Nick’s fight, and two days before his birthday, that Phillip had his fight in the arena. Phillip was paired up to fight against Max Strawberry. Phillip told Nick that all though his name made him seem like he had no fighting ability, he actually did have skill with archery. However, Phillip assured Nick that Strawberry had no chance in a fight against him, and that he would speak of his battle tomorrow over breakfast. Nick wished Phillip good luck after their time from training in the dungeon. Phillip was escorted out and began his venture into the arena.

Nick stood alone with no friend to talk to. He wished to still be tucked away in the shadows; he didn’t want any attention.

After the dungeon he returned to his cell. Soon after it was time for dinner. Nick made his way to the kitchen, grabbed his dinner, and sat at an empty table. He sat alone for mere moments before a muscular Paplon sat down at his table. Nick had seen the man walking around and at training. He remembered his pale skin and bald head. The man was intimidating to look at; he was tall and had huge bulging muscles. His swing of an axe would terrify anyone paired with him in the arena.

“I don’t believe we ever met. Who are you?” he asked.

Nick looked up at the man after avoiding eye contact while he sat down at his table. The man did not sit down with food, he had sat down just for Nick.

“My name is Nick. What is yours?”

“Nick. Okay, Nick, let me tell you who I am. I am the man of the arena. I am the man who was born to be here. I run this prison. You might’ve been under the impression that the Refect do, or that the king does. You have been misinformed. Sure, I sleep in a cell, and I fight for my fans in the arena, but don’t let that confuse you. I bring in items from the outside that are banned for the right price. I control who fights who when I wish to do so. I punish those who wish to defy me in any way while we are inside of this prison because I am protected while you are not.”

Nick listened to the man while he ate his food. He stared blankly as he preached of how important and great the man was.

After the man’s speech there was a silent pause at the table. Nick broke it by saying, “I don’t know if you heard correctly but I asked you what your name was.”

The man laughed aloud then said, “It’s not wise to make enemies with a king.”

The man then got up and left Nick to himself at the table. Nick continued to eat his meal while his heart pounded. He wondered what sort of hornet’s nest he had just kicked. The self proclaimed prison king was the first person to threaten Nick, and he felt alive.

After dinner Nick traveled back to his cell to sleep as the inmates do every night. Nick closed his eyes to escape the reality of the small rocky cell. He began to daydream of a trip to the outskirts of Vincot’s gates, the sun beaming down upon him. How he missed the brisk air and warmth of the sun. He walked on the grassy plane, which led to a river, and there he sat. Birds flew by in flocks, fish climbed to the surface of the water, and the wind moved leaves subtly. He lay in his cell and his only escape was his imagination. He knew that no one could ever take away his dreams and his imagination. While his eyes were shut, thinking vividly of his fantasy, Nick drifted off into a slumber.

Nick woke up to the familiar sound of keys unlocking his cell. A Refect stood at the cell entrance. There were no familiar sounds of other inmates getting out of their cells as the morning breakfast routine demands. There was silence and a Refect who then whispered, “Get up, Nick, you have a meeting scheduled. Follow me.”

Nick sprung up from his back and onto his feet. He followed the Refect through a path Nick was not familiar with. There were candles spread evenly on the walls that lit up the hallway. As he walked he noticed the hall seemed to stretch down quite a long ways. About half way down the Refect stopped and opened a door and signaled Nick to walk in. Though he was hesitant at first, Nick stepped into the room; the door shut and locked behind him.

The man who stood before him was the same man who had sat at his table during dinner. There were no Refect in the small room, just Nick and the man. The room was filled bagged goods, and lit with candles.

“You should look to make friends, not enemies,” the man said with a smile. “I thought we could meet up tonight to have a little meeting to remind you who it is that you disrespected earlier tonight. As you can see, I have friends here, powerful friends. I have talked to a few of those friends and have arranged both of our next fights after our upcoming ones. Yes, it will be you and me fighting in three weeks time in the arena. Although you could save yourself from that fight...” He paused as he put his hand on a bag full of food and started tapping it with his fingers. “See, you just have to get down on your knees and admit to me that I am your king. And beg for my forgiveness of your rudeness earlier.”

“No,” Nick replied. “My king sits on his throne in Genold City. I do not bow for a fake king. I do not beg. I do not regret anything I have ever said to you. You are an inmate like myself, nothing more.”

The man’s face swelled up as he moved towards Nick. He threw Nick across the room like a doll, knocking over a stack of bagged goods that fell on top of him. Nick got the worst beating of his entire life that night. The man’s unrelenting punches thrashed upon Nick until he became unconscious.

***

Nick’s eyes opened. He had no idea how he got back to his cell; he only remembered being punched mercilessly. His face was pounding with pain and his body was bruised all over. As he tried to move, he felt pain like he had never experienced resonating throughout his whole body. Nick struggled to stand up as the cells were being opened for the walk to breakfast. He motivated himself by remembering that Phillip had fought yesterday, and it was his first chance to meet with him.

He stumbled and winced in pain as he made his way onto his feet. The Refect made their way down to his cell and said nothing of his mauled face as one opened the gate. Nick painfully made his way to the kitchen where, as usual, he got his food, but on that day he had no appetite. He still decided to grab a plate of food and sat down at an empty table. Phillip made his way over to Nick after he spotted him sitting down.

“Who did you piss off? It looks like you barely made it out alive of an arena match. What happened?”

“I didn’t respond politely to the self proclaimed king of the arena,” replied Nick. “So he set me up to be alone in a room with him last night where he beat me after I refused to bow to his dirty feet.”

“That man has numerous Refect on his pay roll. Apparently he has connections to get the Refect their money, so long as they do as he says for certain things. He was rich before he was convicted, and, unfortunately, even in here money buys power. He is one of those most of us would rather avoid a confrontation with.”

“What is the scum’s name?” asked Nick.

Phillip looked around nervously and said, “Body Bags. His name here is Body Bags but recently he likes to call himself king. Don’t let anyone hear you call him a scum. If the wrong person hears you, there is nothing I can do to stop him from killing you.”

“He told me last night that I will fight him after my next fight. I look forward to sending him away in his own body bag.”

Phillip covered his face with his hands. “Nick, he has been here for a year and a half. He is one of the few men in here that have a great chance at living through their two year sentence. He is a savage, and a natural born killer. Nobody wants to meet him in the arena, nobody. Just look at what he did to you with his bare hands last night. Give him a weapon and you might just be dead in a minute.”