The Mutant Showcase

Let the battle begin

The sky was black, and the only light was from the sliver of the moon as Charlotte picked her way through the underbrush. She shivered in her cloak, not allowing to let her fear overtake her determination. She was strong-she was not some helpless girl. But, as she went deeper into the forest, the oaks had turned into reaching, gnarled trees that snagged at her hair and cloak, and brushed her skin with withered, tough fingers.

She had trouble finding a clear path forward, and she only heard the occasional hoot of an owl or flap of a birds wings. She had no idea where the showcase lied, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that it was well nestled here.

She could not draw attention to herself. She was not vain, but Yvette constantly told her that with her fair skin and black hair, she drew constant glances. Though she could tuck her hair in her hood and cover her body with her cloak, her eyes still peeked up from under the lip of the hood, a strange grey that occasionally looked gun metal blue.

And her eyes, as Yvette would say, were the most appealing of all. Her shoe caught on a twig, and her arms windmilled forward. She quickly balanced herself, knowing if she hurt herself here of all places, it would not end very well.

She stopped walking, and looked around, trying to find something, anything. In every direction, there were trees. Trees, trees and more trees. She huffed out a sigh. Perhaps there was some sort secret passage, or perhaps a certain word she needed to speak.

“Where is the showcase?” She said aloud, and for a quick moment, wondered if one of the trees would come to life and tell her. She quickly brushed away the ridiculous thought, and kept walking forward.

It was a struggle to see as the tree tops thickened and the night progressed. That’s when she heard something. A loud roar, like the combined shouts of a crowd. Only, it sounded like cheering. Suddenly, her willpower seemed to shoot up and she hurried quickly over the twigs and leaves, putting her hands out in front of her to feel for any trees, and following the noise.

It got louder and louder, definitely shouts. She quickened her pace, and then the darkness ahead was pierced by a faint glow. She blinked as things began to materialize ahead, as if they’d been there all along.

Gas lights illuminated a huge space up ahead, where no trees stood, and the moon was clearly visible. Set up like an arena, like some sort of horrid gladiator match, were wooden stands, all connecting in a towering oval shape.

She stumbled forward, looking for some way through, to where the shouts on the other side of the wooden barriers were. She heard the baying of a wolf, and her heart leapt to her throat. She quickly jumped behind a cluster of bushes, just as a thick man dressed in black walked around from behind the outside of the arena, with some sort of hound on a leash.

It was more of a wolf than a dog, but as she watched with wide eyes, she noted that its huge paws left burning red marks in the soil, and its fur glinted like smooth onyx; too smooth for an animal’s coat.

She held her breath when its huge head swung her way, and she bit down hard on her lip to stop a gasp when she saw its eyes. They were as black as its coat, and the only separation from pupil and iris was the hot orange ring around it.

The ring seemed to glow and dance like real flame, and her heart thundered as a low growl emanated from its dangerous looking muzzle. The fire hounds. She’d heard of them.

They were mutated dogs that guarded the showcase, ordered to kill any one that trespassed into the show without a ticket, as well as anyone who caused trouble among it.

She crossed her fingers, praying that it wouldn’t sense her. The man leading it looked around, his other hand holding a gas light. He stood still for an achingly long time, his beady eyes flicking around everywhere.