Page 8 of Beast Unburdened

I knew just how viscous Geramor was, of all the gladiators I was the least certain of his morality. In this though he came through exactly as I’d hoped. The opportunity, in the heat of the moment, was too good for him not to keep his many fangs in his mouth.

While I backed away and into my cell, blocking Abigail from sight and possible reprisal. Geramor opened his huge, double-hinged mouth and ripped out the throat of the Krektar who’d stumbled straight into his cell.

Sunder was far more practical. In that one flash of a moment where I’d sprayed the hallway with my fire, I’d seen his face. He grabbed the Krektar nearest him, not even letting chance have a say in whether his victim ended up in his cell. Just like I’d done with Farn last night, he snapped his victim’s neck with an air of economy and practice; tossing the body out of his cell and bowling it into the remaining two panicking guards.

He sat down on his knees the next moment, placing his hands on his horned head in surrender. Making it at once clear he did not intend to harm the other guards. Smart because that meant the scrambling Uru, the senior of the two guards, snapped his bars closed but didn’t engage his pain collar.

My cell closed as well. But Geramor was doused on the highest setting by the pain collar. Incredibly the carnivorous male had started eating the Krektar he’d caught and he didn’t immediately stop eating either. Yuck.

It took two minutes on that high setting before he lost consciousness and thudded hard to the floor of his cell. During that time all of us were utterly quiet, hearing only his agonized moans and the thrashing of his heels on the floor when he collapsed.

What was going on behind me was far more interesting though. I knew I’d scared Abigail with the eruption of violence and she was clearly horrified to see Geramor suffer, to see him try and eat the guard he killed too if I could hazard a guess.

Instead of staying behind my broad back, the female had looked, of course she had. But instead of backing away, of shuddering in fear or repulsion, she had placed her small hands on my scaled back; anchoring herself to me. Almost as if my presence gave her comfort but I didn’t dare hope that was already the case.

“Did he just start eating the guard?” Abigail asked me in a hushed whisper, shock evident in every single syllable. I rolled my shoulders, “Yes, Geramor’s species, the Hoxiam are extremely carnivorous, they need vast amounts of meat and he’s not getting nearly enough.” I didn’t add that their species tended to live off the thrill of the kill and the hunt just as much and enjoyed eating all kinds of sentients. They were spacefaring but banned from all ports and planets, except when enslaved of course.

As soon as Geramor passed out Uru ordered Thonklad to pull the body of their fellow guard out of the cell. It obviously wouldn’t do to let the Hoxiam male have access to any of the guard’s gear or to let him continue gorging himself on his flesh. They knew as well as I that on large quantities of fresh meat a Hoxiam nearly doubled in size. It was only done for certain types of fights, which meant that Geramor was always half-starved. Sad and horrible if his preferred food wasn’t sentients.

Once the body was out Uru closed the cell and the two Krektar worked to dispose of the bodies with little fanfare. They were not the type to get sentimental so I wouldn’t be surprised if those two bodies simply went out the airlock without another word said. At least it was good to see that Thonklad definitely seemed a little green around the gills when handling the corpse mutilated by Geramor.

They returned throwing rations into our cells and then, on their heels Frek came. “Shit, he’s come for the punishment,” I murmured at Abigail who’d taken the bars and sat down with them on the cot. I hadn’t wanted to start eating yet so she had the two meant for me as well.

“He’s the type that gets off on hurting those bigger than him isn’t he?” Abigail scoffed in a hushed whisper. I fought a grin at her description, oh yeah that was spot on. I knew his type well, they always set the pain collar higher than warranted, always kicked a little extra when you were already down. Weak little bullies.

“Curl under the blanket, stay out of sight,” I said as a warning in low tones. I really didn’t want Frek to set his sights on her. Bully or not, he wouldn’t hesitate to harm my female if he thought he could.

“Thought to stage a little rebellion did you Beast?” the wart faced Krektar demanded as he stepped in front of my cell. I hadn’t backed away into the dark, hoping that playing target would make him less likely to focus on Abigail. At his words I cocked my head, scraping my horns against the bars of the cell and then shaking my head a little as if I got confused when one horn got stuck for a brief moment.

Frek laughed uproariously, pointing at me and then looking at the other Krektar, “Look at the dumb beast. He was probably just attempting to swat a fly!” The three Krektar laughed, but I saw the look in the older Uru’s eyes, he was thinking hard. Shit… That wouldn’t do.

But Frek turned to gaze into the dark shadows where my cot was, I knew he couldn’t see Abigail but that didn’t seem to matter. “Too bad you’re not pregnant yet. For you! You’ll have to let that beast between your legs again! I only wish I could see that, hear your pretty screams.”

I smelled Abigail’s fear, she was shaking on the cot, trying to stay quiet and hidden. Stepping into Frek’s line of sight I growled, flaring up my spines and the blades on my arms in a territorial display. He was close enough that if I breathed fire he’d be burned to a crisp, the clicking of my fire-starter would give me away though. It was too slow a weapon.

Frek didn’t raise his hand, there was little warning, but the pain flared to life through my collar. It roared through me at the highest setting and I groaned in surprise and instinctively advanced towards him. Bashing my hard skull and thick horns against the bars of my cell.

Behind me Abigail screamed, “Ziame! No stop it! Don’t hurt him!” she was behind me then, grabbing my arm at the elbow and trying to pull me away from the bars. I had no control of my muscles though, it was all I could do to remain standing. That damn coward Frek had engaged the control on the highest setting. It was far harder to resist this pain, to stay conscious but for Abigail, I tried.

Somehow my hands unlocked from the bars and I staggered back a step, pulled backward by my female’s meager weight. Another staggering step while I groaned, focusing hate-filled eyes on the gleeful Frek. Then I sank to my knees and forced myself to turn to stone.

“Don’t want us to hurt your big stud do you, tasty human?” Frek taunted and from the corner of my blurry eyes, I saw Abigail’s pretty face pinched with fear and worry. She wasn’t even looking at the Krektar anymore. She just looked at me, then I saw the moisture pooling in her beautiful brown eyes and felt like a total heel. I caused that. If I hadn’t instigated this round of violence she wouldn’t be crying now.

A huge exhale rolled out of me, angled down and I saw wisps of fire curl into the air. The pain coursing through me had made me lose control of my fire-starter and it clicked in my throat. I couldn’t risk burning my Abigail so I fought hard to turn my head away from her. Locking eyes instead with Sunder kneeling in his cell patiently. The older male knew he was next but his look conveyed understanding, sympathy, support; at least I’d like to think it did.

I held myself strong as long as I could stand it and then, just like the evening before, faked my fall from consciousness. Opting to throw myself to the side Abigail was standing on so that I fell on top of her. Though I caught my weight on my palms and made sure Abigail didn’t hit the metal floor hard, instead her head landed on my curled arm. Then I pinned her, sort of.

I hoped that if I was on top of her like this, apparently out of it, they wouldn’t want to have to bother dragging me off her to get to her. I could shield her from them, even while they thought I was out of it. And of course, when I faked my fall, to Abigail it was utterly real and she screamed in fear and possibly a little pain.

“Not exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to watch,” Frek jeered and Abigail moaned and feebly struggled to get her hands up and push me off. I didn’t let her but I shifted my weight a little more so I wasn’t crushing her as much. When I did she stilled and I felt her turn her head into my throat, the sensation of her breath on my scales blocked partially by the collar but pleasant all the same.

As my head was angled just right to view into Sunder’s cell I slid my nictitating membranes closed over my eyes and then opened my eyelids a little so I could see what was going on without giving myself away. Frek had turned to stand in front of the Tarkan male’s cell and was appraising the male, who sat stone-still, clearly patiently waiting for his punishment.

“You at least know exactly what you did,” Frek said. “Doesn’t make you less stupid. You do realize you are slated for death your coming match?” Sunder rolled his shoulders, his wings pressed tightly to his back. “I know, so what do I have to lose?”

That was right, Sunder was one of the oldest males on the cellblock. He had seen nearly ten years of gladiatorial combat and lived to teach the newer males about it. In the gym, he was the one setting the exercises for us, responsible for pairing us up and training us to be our best. But Sunder, as far as being out on the sands, was definitely past his best by date.

Rumor was, he’d done something to anger Drameil, enough to get set up in a death match he couldn’t win. He’d made himself valuable as our trainer but not valuable enough.