[Therus]

Therus slowly awoke slowly. There was as a strange taste in his mouth, and his clothes and skin were moist. His muscles tingled slightly, but otherwise there was no pain. The investigator was happy... and lucky... to be alive. It was hot. There were animals smells all around him, and the unmistakable scent of spilt blood. He opened his eyes.

Therus was in a cage. There were other cages all around him... two rows of them ran down the length of the darkened hallway. Most were empty, but there was some movement further down. And a lot of heat...

"I see you're awake." said a voice. Therus turned to the cage adjacent to his, and saw the source of the metallic, blood scent. There was a naked man chained to the floor. Even though the floor of the cage was covered in blood, the man appeared whole and mostly unharmed. There were a few scars, but they appeared old and almost healed.

"Who... where are we?" asked Therus.

"Guests of Damion VonSinterbourne."

Therus recognized the voice. It belonged to the man who had come to him earlier as a messenger. He worked for December.

"Mr. Hood?"

"The one and only."

"What happened? Why are you tied up like that?"

"Hard to torture a man while he's got his hands free."

"Torture? Who-"

"I wouldn't worry about that. They know you're just a pawn. It's me that want. Me and the boss. They kept you under until now."

"Pawn. I'm no one's pawn."

"Maybe not, but you're locked in a cage same as me but they didn't think you were important enough to interrogate. Lucky you."

" Hey... I think I might be able pick the locks on these cages."

"Guards everywhere. More people arriving every minute. You can hear 'em... Listen..."

Therus was silent. He heard noises...footsteps on the floor above. Conversations. Laughter.

"Sounds like a party."

"It is. And we're the entertainment."

"eh?"

"I would say that you slept through the worst, but I'd be lying. That's coming up. Hopefully we'll fight each other... If we do, I'll try to do ya quick. But somehow I don't think it's going to go that way."

"What are you talking about? What fight? I don't want to fight?"

"Don't matter. But it might not come to that... if I can get close to Fletcher I might be able to get a message to the outside?"

"Fletcher?"

"Be glad you never met him. But he's got my coin. If I can get it, I can send a message to the boss."

"Mr. December? We need to contact the authorities... What's December going to do?"

Eric lay still and listened to the noise from above. He was smiling.

What, indeed. he thought.

"What's that down there?" Therus pointed to the cage at the far end of the row. Two shapes moved around inside it. Just beyond that last cage was a large bulky shape that was covered with some kind of cloth.

"Chitracks." said Eric. "Nasty buggers."

"By the gods... who'd bring those things into the city?" Therus answered his own question... "Vendredi. But why?"

"You really don't know, do you? Montfort authorities don't have the slightest idea what's been going on, do they? The homeless... The disappearances... "

"No, I-" Revelation dawned on Therus... "They're going to feed us..."

"... to them. Fight or die. Or both."

"I'm going to be sick. Gods, it's hot. Why is it so hot down here?"

"That, my friend, is something you just don't want to know."

---

[Paul]

Paul shuffled up to the small, guarded door and greeted the man who stood before it.

"I- I gotta see F-Fletcher."

"I AM Fletcher, you twit."

"S-sorry. I can't see too good any more. Everything's all blurry."

"Foosh withdrawal," nodded Fletcher. "You may go blind after a while, but it will only be temporary." .

"B-But only if I don't get the stuff, right? The potion? I need it, Mr. Fletcher."

"Sorry. Fighters only."

"W-Well? Can I do it? Can I f-fight?"

"No. We've already got out contestants for the night."

"P-Please Mr. Fletcher. I need the stuff bad... I NEED it! It HURTS!!!"

"No."

"You don't have to pay me. I-I'll fight for free. Please..."

"As I said... We've already got our entertainment lined up for tonight. You'll have to wait until next time."

"PLEASE!!! I'm hurtin' BAD, Mr. Fletcher! PLEASE let me do it tonight!" Paul dropped to his knees and groveled at Fletcher's feet. Fletcher took a few steps back and resisted the urge to kick the man in the teeth.

"I-I got a little girl..." Paul shot a nervous glance toward an empty building that stood across the street.

"So?"

"So... you... You can have her."

"Now, what would I want with your little girl?"

"...do whatever you want.... She's a good girl..."

"You disgust me."

Paul looked up at Fletcher. Tears rolled down his grimy face.

"All right." said Fletcher. "You can warm up for the main attraction."

"Y-You want the girl? I'll go get her... she's just over there."

"No."

Paul let out a small sigh of relief and glanced again at the nearby building.

"Follow me. You know the drill: Don't talk to anyone, don't look at anyone."

"Y-yes sir, Mr. Fletcher. You... You said I'm going on first, right? I'm gonna get the stuff soon, right? I'm going on first? I need to go first, Mr. Fletcher."

"Shut up."

Fletcher opened the door and escorted the homeless addict down the stairs and into a dark corridor. A short distance away was another staircase that led to the very bottom level of Damion Sinterbourne's headquarters. Along the way, they passed quite a few guards... more than Paul was accustomed to seeing. Ordinarily he would have wondered about the extra security, but his mind was currently consumed with thoughts of the beloved drug that would end his pain and make him a god... at least temporarily.

They emerged in a long room that had cages running down both walls. Paul was very familiar with this room. It led to the arena. To The Cage.

"I'm going on soon, right?"

"The show is about to start. Shut up and follow me."

The walked between the double row of cages. Most of them were empty, but Paul did see two men locked away in a pair of cages to the right.

"Fletcher!" shouted one of the men as they passed. The man was naked and chained to the floor. Fletcher stopped and looked at the prisoner, but did not approach.

"Come here." said the prisoner.

"What do you want? Begging for mercy already?"

"I want you to come here. I've got something for you."

"I think not."

"Who...Who's that, Mr. Fletcher?" asked Paul.

"The main attraction. Pay them no mind..." Fletcher continued down the hall.

"FLETCHERRRR!!!!" shouted the naked man.

Paul followed obediently, trying his best to ignore the obscenities coming from the cage behind him. The man shouting them made him extremely nervous. There was something about the naked prisoner that was... wrong.

"Why is it so hot down here, Mr. Fletcher? I-It's not usually so hot... I'm sweating..."

Fletcher stopped and turned to face him.

"You didn't even ask what you'll be fighting, did you?"

"It don't matter... I'm gonna get the stuff, right? It don't matter s'long as I get the stuff..."

"No. I suppose it doesn't"

"When am I going on? I'm gonna be first, right? Don't give my stuff to those other guys..."

"Quiet. The cage is over here... you know the way."

Fletcher let Paul walk in front as they approached the huge platform that held the metal cage. Paul's heart raced as he saw it... freedom was close at hand.

"Oh, yes. Oh, yesssssss."

"Step inside." Fletcher shoved Paul through the open door and pushed him up against the bars. Outside the cage, a guard ran chains around Paul's arms and legs, securing him to the cage. The bonds were tight; and they hurt quite a bit. Paul didn't care.

"soooon.... sooooooon..."

"Won't be long now." said Fletcher. "We've got a full house tonight."

"Am I gonna get the stuff soon? You promised-"

"Most certainly."

Paul smiled.

"Hey... wh-what am I fighting, anyway?"

"It's a bit late for that now, don't you think?"

"I- I don't know. I guesss."

"The handlers will be bringing it in shortly. Unfortunately, I won't be here to see your reaction. I must attend to some matters upstairs. Good luck to you, Mr.... What is your last name?"

"...you're gonna give me the stuff, right? I'm not fighting without the stuff...Can I have some to take with me?"

"I see. Good luck to you."

Fletcher turned on his heels and walked away.

---

[Zade]

As she looked down at the crowd, Zade's only thought was that this was the most ridiculous spectacle she had ever seen. The floor below was *packed* with men in animal masks, eagerly awaiting the night's entertainment.

[Aeragar]

Clad in a bear mask, Aeragar talked to his leopard-masked anti-paladin guard. "So this is what Sinterbourne does."

[Eva]

Eva nodded and whispered, "Word in the PanDemonica is that December is attempting a hostile takeover of this operation. The two groups are at war."

[Aeragar]

"Yes, my sources concur," Aerager whispered. "Since both organizations are good customers, it makes good business sense to remain neutral in the fight."

[Eva]

"In the event a fight erupts in our presence, then what?"

[Aeragar]

"I mislike avoiding battles, but we should simply leave. If we are trapped then it would be wise to help the victor."

[Eva]

"And if the sides are well-matched?"

[Aeragar]

"Then we play the battle by ear. Sinterbourne has been a customer for longer, but rumor has it that December has considerable out-of-town resources. If he really wants to break into the Montfort underworld, then I believe he will. Nevertheless, if December himself is involved, then either boss could die, and we would be forced to come to a decision. Such a battle is unlikely, so we should be fine. If it's just a skirmish, we will make for the doors.

[Eva]

Eva nodded as she scanned the crowd for trouble. A number of the men looked back at her, licking their lips as they eyed her tight, leopard-pattern dress with the customary slits along the outsides of each leg.

-----

[Zade]

"Who came up with the mask idea?" she said to Damion, who was standing next to her in Damion's private balcony.

"I do believe it was Fletcher's idea."

"Figures."

Zade scanned the room for perhaps the twentieth time in the past ten minutes, and then ran her eyes over the three so-called 'archers' that occupied the balcony with her and Damion. She shook her head.

At least they're sober. she thought. Probably couldn't hit the ground with a rock... but they're sober...

Directly across from them, although a little bit lower, was another platform... a temporary structure secured with ropes and pulleys. Three more archers stood upon it. Zade nodded at them, and the men nodded back.

"...quite a good idea at the time." Damion had continued, talking, unaware that he was being ignored.

"What?"

"The masks. You wouldn't believe the names of some of the people who regularly attend my functions... Politicians. Businessmen. Rich and wealthy men-about-town. Would be quite embarrassing if their identities were to get out."

"But you know who they are, don't you?"

"Most of them. See that man down there in the pig-mask?" Damion pointed.

"Uh-huh."

"Wealthy humanitarian. Gives half his weight in gold to the poor and homeless every year. Then comes here to see them torn apart by wild animals. Quite a heavy better, too."

Zade watched the pig-mask place his bets at the betting table.

"Amazing," she said. "Why animal masks?"

"Well, it fits the occasion doesn't it?"

Zade sighed.

"Besides, the masks seem to be serving your little scheme quite nicely."

"So far."

Zade scanned the crowd again, this time her eyes picked out the five armed men she had secretly stationed amongst the mob. All were wearing animal masks and were indistinguishable from real guests. If...WHEN... trouble started, they would be the first of many surprises that Zade had in store.

"Remember," said Zade. "Stay close to m-"

"Shhh!! The show's about to start."

[Fletcher]

Fletcher stood atop a small movable table in front of the main center platform. He raised his arms and a lull fell over the crowd...

"Gentlemen..."

"What?"

"We can't hear you!"

"Gentlemen!!!" shouted Fletcher.

"What's he saying?"

"I can't hear."

"Where's Damion?"

Fletcher sighed, then remembered something. He leaned down and retrieved the large, open-ended cone that Damion used to amplify his voice. He placed the small end to his lips and addressed the crowd again.

"GENTLEMEN, ARE YOU READY?"

An energetic shout resonated through the crowd.

Barbarians. thought Fletcher. He continued the introduction.

"WELCOME TO DAMION VON-SINTERBOURNE'S ARENA OF BLOOD!"

The yelling and shouting continued.

"THOSE WHO ARRIVED EARLY HAVE HAD A CHANCE TO VIEW THE ANIMALS-"

"We want the Fire-Drake!" shouted a voice from the crowd.

"Yeah! Drake!" called another. The cry continued until the entire room was chanting:

"Drake! Drake! Drake! Drake! Drake!"

"ALL IN GOOD TIME..."

"Drake! Drake! Drake!"

"Come on, Damion! Give us the Drake!"

"Where IS Damion?"

"Yeah, we want Sinterbourne!"

[Damion & Zade]

"Up HERE!" shouted Damion. He was leaning over the balcony and waving at the crowd when Zade snatched him back and elbowed him painfully in the ribs.

"You keep making us a target and I'll kill you myself!"

"Oh, BAH! Everyone already knows we're up here... Just make sure your men don't shoot ME by mistake."

"They're not MY men."

"I'm sure they'd like to be." Damion smiled. "That's a very nice suit of armor you're wearing. Very sleek, and-"

"Just watch the show, Damion."

[Fletcher]

"ALL IN GOOD TIME..." repeated Fletcher to the thundering crowd. "BUT NOW... TO TEMPT YOUR THIRST, I GIVE YOU A VETERAN OF THE ARENA.... LET US SEE HOW HE FARES AGAINST THE TERROR OF THE CHITRACK!"

The crowd roared.

Shaking his head, Fletcher stepped down and tapped his boot against the side of the platform.

At Fletcher's signal, a metallic clanging sound arose as the cage and its contents were slowly raised up from the floor below. The top of the cage came into view. Fletcher circled around and waved at one of the guards, who then brought him a small tray that held four small vials.

The crowd was going mad as the Chitrack became visible. The giant insect stood seven feet tall, and resembled a man-sized preying mantis, only with a wider body. Its triangular head held feathery antennae, compound eyes, and a set of large, crushing mandibles. The forelegs were pointed and had razor-sharp ridges running along their length. The insect held them folded in a mantis's typical 'ready' position.

When the cage bottom was even with the platform, the entire mechanism was locked in place. Fletcher extracted one of the vials and walked over to the end of the cage where Paul was securely tied.

"...gimmie...gimmie....gimmie the stuff..." mumbled the fighter. He had been stripped to the waist, his wiry limbs quivered slightly in the open air.

The Chitrack stood upright and motionless at the opposite end of the cage. Contrary to the arena's usual conventions, the beast was neither tied or secured... it simply stood and waited, its glassy, segmented eyes leaving its prey only a few times to scan the crowd.

"...gimmie...gimmie..."

Fletcher uncorked the first vial and reached through the bars to put it to Paul's lips.

"Drink." he said, and tilted the vial back. Paul gulped down the oily substance.

As he did so, the crowd roared in anticipation. The Chitrack responded to the sound by leaning forward onto it's middle legs and placing its hind legs against each other. As it moved its legs, the hard exoskeleton scraped against itself...

SKREEEEEEEEEEEEE

The patrons closest to the cage held their ears in pain.

Paul growled as the potion took effect. His muscles bulged and twitched. His jaws tightened with the sudden need to bite something... to taste blood... to kill... He jerked against the chains that held him.

"Let him go so he can shut that damned thing up!" shouted Fletcher. The guard released Paul's bonds, and the homeless man ran forward, snarling and drooling like a wild animal.

The giant insect ceased its impromptu serenade and rocked back onto its hind legs. Its forelegs shot forward... almost too fast for the eye to follow, but too slow to catch the speeding wildman. Paul shot

past the waving arms and jumped onto the creature, driving it onto its back.

"BOOOOOOO!!!!" went the crowd, apparently thinking that the fight was over...

Paul screamed into the silent face of his opponent, and then yelped out in pain. The Chitrack sank its mandibles into Paul's right shoulder. Bones crunched and large slugs of flesh fell away into the insect's maw. Paul dislodged himself just instants before he would have lost his arm. He stumbled backwards. His right arm was barely attached to his shoulder by a thin strip of muscle, but by the time he had taken three steps, the damaged limb and joint had begun regenerate. He would have been whole again in just a few seconds had the Chitrack not chosen that moment to press its advantage.

The creature circled around and made two sudden chops with its sharp, bladed arms. Paul leaned away just in time to avoid being sectioned by the beast. His chest bore the marks of the Chitrack's attack... two deep slices making an 'X' across his ribcage.

The crowed roared in approval.

Paul rushed the insect once again, but this time he ducked low and ducked under the beast's predictable slashing attack. He came up behind it and leapt onto the chitrack's back. His fists pounded on the hard wing-coverings... his enhanced strength came close to cracking the exoskeleton several times. The beast leaned forward on all six legs, and began twisting and jerking in an effort to dislodge the snarling savage. The thing moved with amazing speed and power for its size, but Paul was too strong.

Suddenly, the wing coverings slid back. Paul was thrown off to one side, but still managed to maintain his grip. A double set of thin, veined wings unfolded and began to beat at the air with surprising speed. The chitrack made several leaps, trying to become airborne within the confines of the cage. The weight was too much, however. The chitrack hovered for about two second's before Paul's wild flailing forced it back down.

It landed hard. Paul scrambled for a handhold and grabbed one of the insect's wings as it flapped near his face. He grasped it near the base and attempted to haul himself up onto the thing's back, but suddenly found himself on the floor as the wing came loose in his hand.

The chitrack immediately spun and speared Paul through the chest, impaling him with it's long, serrated leg. Paul grabbed the limb and squeezed. The exoskeleton cracked with a wet, satisfying *crunch.*

The insect reacted by jerking its leg free of Paul's chest and crushing grasp. Hook-like blades caught on flesh and bone, causing infinitely more damage on the way *out* than they did when they entered. Paul's chest cavity exploded in a shower of blood and tissue. Severed fingers flew through the bars and into the howling crowd. But Paul was not dead. He rolled onto his chest and then, miraculously, got himself up on his hands and knees. Blood poured out of his exposed heart like a river. His wounded flesh, urged on by the berserker potion, strained to regenerated the lost fluid and organs.

The chitrack reared up and backed away, it's cracked limb dripping thick ichor. It circled around the bleeding human. It wanted to feed, but was wary of the strange man-thing that had wounded it...

With Herculean effort, Paul stood. He winced in pain, and then paused... frozen in agony.

The chitrack approached; its eyes fixed on the savage.

Paul drew a wet, gurgling breath. Bones knitted... skin began to grow over the gaping wound...

Without warning, the chitrack struck again. It drew back and thrust its uninjured leg through Paul's back, impaling him once more... this time from behind. It drew its struggling prey back and grasped it with its two middle legs. Then it leaned forward and closed its mandibles over the top of the man-thing's head...

[Zade]

"...ugggh!" Zade turned away, her grunt of disgust was drowned out by the roar of the frenzied crowd

"What a SHOW!" shouted Damion. The balcony shook as he jumped up and down, clapping his hands with glee.

"That-"

"Was Excellent! See... I TOLD you the new mixture was as good as the last!"

"If you say so, Damion."

Zade looked and saw that the cage was being lowered down into the basement, where it would be cleaned and made ready for the next fight. The feeding chitrack was already out of site. Zade then scanned the crowd as she had done a hundred times already during the night. This time she saw something. The slightest glimpse... a flash of blue over in the far corner... then it was gone.

"Blaymore," she whispered to herself. "He's here."

Zade was unsure whether to smile or frown. Smiling seemed the least appropriate, so she deepened her ever-present scowl and continued looking for the trouble. She knew she would not be disappointed

[Eric Hood]

Eric strained to see down the dark corridor. He knew the fight was over and the cage was being lowered. Sweat rolled into his eyes and made them sting. He shook it off and squinted.

"...gods..." he heard Therus say.

Eric already knew that Damion's fights were to the death, and, though he couldn't see much, he could tell from a distance that the thing moving around in the cage was not human.

"Guess our friend lost."

"And you're next!" said Fletcher's voice. The cage door opened and several guards stormed in and unlocked Eric's chains. They jerked him up and shoved him out into the hall.

"Wait!" yelled Therus from inside his own cell. "That's an innocent citizen! What gives you the right-"

"Oh, stop it." said Fletcher. "You'll get your turn soon enough. Turn him around..."

The guards rotated Eric so that he faced Damion's assistant. Eric fought them, straining against their grasp... his muscles bulged...

"Have anything to say now?" said Fletcher.

"Would it make any difference?" answered Eric, still straining against the guards

"None at all."

"Then I guess..." Without warning, Eric leapt. He released the strain from his muscles and slipped away from the surprised guard's. Like a cat, he sprung at Fletcher. He caught the man by the neck and the pair of them hit the ground and began fighting. Eric pummeled Fletcher with his hands, while he kept his knee firmly planted in the man's chest.

"GET HIM!" shouted Therus.

The guards stepped in and began beating Eric about the head and shoulders. He collapsed on top of Fletcher, and surreptitiously snaked his hand into Fletcher's pocket.

"GET THIS FILTH OFF OF ME!!"

Eric's skilled fingers found the object for which they searched... His thumb pressed against the runes on the coin-face. The coin hummed briefly, and was beginning to grow cold when the guards yanked him Eric away from Fletcher.

"What was THAT about?!" demanded Fletcher.

"Just my way of saying good-bye." replied Eric

"Take him away..."

The guards drug Eric down the hall towards the cage. The cage's floor was sticky with Paul's blood. The chitrack was gone... Fletcher wished he could have seen how the handlers managed to remove the feeding

insect from the cage... it may have given him a hint at the animal's weak points.

"So what am I going to fi- OUCH!" Eric's head banged against the cage as the guards chained him to the bars. He heard Fletcher's voice from behind him....

"I'll see you up top. Give us a good show..." Fletcher walked away.

Eric waited just a few moments before the handlers brought in his opponent. It was the other chitrack. This insect was slightly larger than the first. Longer reach... sharper ridges on its arms. Eric breathed a small sigh of relief.

At least it isn't the fire drake. Not yet, anyway.

The giant bug stood poised on the opposite side of the cage. It eyed him with hunger and menace as the guards slammed the door and secured it with heavy chains.

------------

[Fletcher]

"ARE YOU READY!!!!" shouted Fletcher

"YEEEESSSSSSSS!!!!!" The crowd before him cried out in unison. The energy in the room was almost frightening

"WE HAVE A NEW CONTESTANT FOR YOU TONIGHT-"

"We want the DRAKE!!" shouted someone.

"DRAKE! DRAKE! DRAKE! DRAKE!"

"ALL IN GOOD TIME..."

"That's what you said LAST time!! We want the FIRE-DRAKE."

"GENTLEMEN... I GIVE YOU... MR. ERIC HOOD!!!"

The cage began to rise, and the reaction of the crowd was mixed. Most screamed in their usual drunken frenzy. A few booed in disappointment at not seeing the Fire-Drake. And fewer still recognized the name of Eric Hood and quickly made their way to the door.

[Aerager and Eva]

Aeragar and Eva slowly worked their way through the crowd towards the door. Aeragar did not wish to offend Damion by leaving when there was no reason, but he also wanted to be near an exit should a reason materialize. It was hard to know if Mr. Hood was valuable enough to December to cause a rescue attempt, but Aeragar did not wish to be caught in a battle that could have a devastating effect on his business were he to choose the wrong side to fight on. The pack was weakened enough without having to deal with powerful enemies.

[Eric Hood]

Bright lights blinded him momentarily as the cage emerged into the arena level. Eric tested his chains without even entertaining the hope that he could free himself. He would be free soon enough... one way or
another..

Come on, Lovvorn... Where are you...

"Well, Mr. Hood." It was Fletcher. He was standing behind Eric, outside the cage. "Too bad you didn't see the first bout. But I'm sure you'll be MUCH more entertaining."

...Lovvorn...

"Drink."

Fletcher placed a small glass vial to Eric's lips. Eric clamped his jaw shut.

"Oh, come now," said Fletcher. "Do you think you'd stand a chance WITHOUT it?"

...Dammit Lovvorn, Come ON!..

"DRINK THE POTION!"

Fletcher reached through the bars and pinched Eric's nose shut. Then he pulled Eric's head back and positioned the open vial just over Eric's mouth

...Boss?... J'Hasp?...Anybody?...

Eric opened his mouth, and the oily potion burned it's way down his throat...

[To Be Continued]