He killed her.
It took about fifteen minutes, but he killed her.
I knew the girl's name sounded familiar, but not from where. Iris. She was the one that served Ezra and I a few times at 24/7. I know they were friends, but after the raid at S1 and the mass of them had been captured, they must have forgotten their ties to one another.
Blood stains his hands, dripping from his shaking fingers as the audience screams in triumph. His face is streaked with claw marks and crimson splatters, which decorate his dirty shirt as well. His left arm has a deep gash just above his elbow, and his throat is bruised and scratched from where Iris kept trying to hit him. I understand now why he was always so uncomfortable with anyone getting near or touching his throat.
Apparently tranquilizers don't work on vampires, which I assume is from the lack of blood flow, so they have to lure Ezra back into the cage with promises of a meal and threats to my safety. I think that's how Orgon's even getting him to fight to begin with. That or Ezra gave in to the thought of being back in the rings for the rest of his life.
The next three fights aren't between people I know. Two vampires, then two werewolves, and another cross species. I don't watch these, but just listen to the announcer in case he says Ezra's name. I want to know who he's fighting in his second round. I just pray it's not another of his friends.
"Oh good, you're still here. I was worried you'd get up and leave."
I look up with tired eyes, muscles jolting as Orgon grabs me under the arm and yanks me to my feet. My hips crack as the bones finally straighten after a few hours of stillness, the numbness in my legs threatening to make me stumble as he starts pulling me towards where he disappeared to earlier. Adrenaline starts rushing through my chest.
"Where are we going?" I ask, staggering over my own words. The man just turns his head, grinning down at me and making my posture shrink. If that's not the mechanical expression I've seen in every super villain movie, I don't know what is. He has a plan, and I'm a big part of it. He told me that, but I guess I never expected the time to come.
"We're just going to get ready for Ezra's next round, alright?" he says, pulling me in front of the first row of spectators. The bleachers are a lot more packed than I originally thought, and it seems to get even hotter as we pass through and the people follow my anxious expression. Some taunt me, some holler at Orgon, and others flash shiny fangs to mock when Ezra had pulled me close and tried to figure out who I was. I turn away and avoid looking at any of them.
"It's not quite your time yet," Orgon says, leading me into a dark hallway guarded by three huge men. They step out of the way as Orgon waves and steps through with confidence. I receive skeptical looks as I slip through beside him. "But I won't have another chance to go all the way back up to the seating to get you. You'll have to wait down here until it's your time to go out."
"Are you taking me out there?" I ask, skidding my heels on the dirty concrete floor before he yanks me to keep up to his pace. "Out in the arena? Am I going out there?"
"Well," Orgon says, pulling me close to his figure as we pass a few occupied cages. I can see a set of metal doors, and hear what I assume to be the arena on the other side. My stomach twists. "Yes, but you won't be in any danger. You just have to wait until it's your time. You'll be perfectly fine."
"What am I doing?" I demand, the terror flooding my system starting to get the best of me. "Why do I have to go out there?"
Orgon stops walking, tugging me close to his face in the middle of the hallway. Immediately my heart drops, struggling to pull my face as far from his as I can. He only gives me one look up and down, as if I'm not even worth an explanation. In this case, I'm not.
"You don't have to do anything," Orgon says, smiling down at me. His eyes seem to shine even brighter in the shadows of the hallway. "You just have to stand still, be quiet, and look pretty. Got it?"
I swallow down the nervousness rising in my throat, giving a small nod before he straightens back up and pulls down the front of his suit jacket. His smile softens, but I don't let it trick me into believing he's calm. This man is edging madness, but is using it to his advantage. At least that's how it looks to me.
"We just have to let this fight finish," Orgon says, referring to the muffled screaming and cheering on the other side of the metal door, "then it's Ezra's turn again. He's all fueled up and ready to go again."
I curl my fingers behind my back, pushing away the image of Ezra striking down a bait human for their blood. I'm certain he wasn't as gentle with that poor soul as he was with me before.
"You'll be outta here before you know it," Orgon says, patting me on the back. His force makes me brace my knees to keep balanced. "Boyfriend and all."
-:*:-
The winning werewolf was dragged out of the ring by two of their conductor's workers, unconscious from the tranquilizers flooding their system. I don't look as they haul out the loser's body, reeling back at the smell of blood and soot.
Orgon grabs me by the elbow, waiting for his queue before dragging me through the door and into the arena. The lights blind me for a brief moment, but when the red orbs clear from my vision I can see nothing but metal walls and clumped up sand. The chain net only glints in my eyes if I squint, but I can't see the hundreds of spectators behind it. I can definitely hear them though, their screaming seemingly amplified within the welded walls of the ring. No wonder the fighters go insane after being thrown in here; I would too.
I flinch as someone else grabs my shoulder, allowing Orgon to release me as they pull me back against the wall. It's one of Orgon's men, simply put in the arena to make sure I stay in place. Why am I here? Why isn't this fight just like that last one?
"Laaadies and gentleman."
The speakers are even louder down here. My ears start to ring.
"We have a very special arrangement for you tonight, never before seen in Hidden Power's history."
I shift my eyes back and forth from the closed door to Orgon, who had unbuttoned his white suit jacket. He slips it off his shoulders, carefully removing his hat before setting them both off to the side. I furrow my eyebrows as he rolls up his sleeves. What is he doing?
"Returning to the arena again, will be Orgon File's fighter, Ezra. But before he is released I should inform you that his competitor is already in the ring."
I hesitate, drawn back as my gaze darts back to Orgon. He's grinning like a mad man.
"This fight with be between Ezra, and his conductor himself! That's right. And you'll be the only ones to see it first hand! Place you bets now!"
Something's not right about this. Ezra has years of practice on Orgon, and there's no way Orgon can expect to get out of this alive. Not without cheating, or...
My heart skips a beat, and I nearly drop as my knees threaten to buckle. I remember Orgon telling me about this now. He bought this time as his own- it's not an actual match. He can do whatever he wants with it, and it's not against the rules since the only people involved are himself and his own fighter.
He plans on surviving this fight.
A few minutes pass of only loud chattering and the squeaking of bleachers before the speakers crackle again. Orgon is standing with his hands folded neatly behind his back, and beside him rests who I assume to be one of the handlers. Nothing about this is right.
"Okay everyone, the time has come! Sit down and get comfy, because this is a show you'll never get to see again!"
To my surprise the metal door begins to shift, opening wide and exposing a shadowed cage pressed against the other side. Just like before it takes a few long moments for Ezra to dive out of it, shrieking loud and making my eardrums flare with pain. Orgon doesn't flinch.
Ezra seems to hesitate after he lands on his hands and feet, crouched low with a bloody snarl twisting his features. I know he won't hurt me, but being so close while he's under the pressure of the ring makes my muscles tremble. I don't know how I'm still standing on my own two feet.
"Hello, Ezra," Orgon says as he opens his arms, "aren't you going to fight? I am your opponent after all."
Ezra tilts his head, and I watch as his tongue runs over his six gleaming fangs. I don't understand how Orgon is keeping his composure while looking Ezra in the eyes. Neither male moves.
"Well," Orgon starts, loud enough so the hushed audience can hear, "it's not really a choice, I guess, because if you don't put on a show for all of these paying spectators then your claim over there won't see it back out of this arena."
Ezra pauses, finally shifting his eyes over to me and the man holding my shoulder. For a short second his snarl softens, and I can see his eyes widen. At least he recognizes me quicker this time.
Ezra moves to take a step closer to me but Orgon tosses a handful of sand to regain his attention. The snarl returns.
"Not so fast," Orgon says, grinning wide as he dusts off his hands. "You have to kill me first."
Ezra digs his feet into the sand as he lunges, fingers splayed wide as Orgon ducks down. Ezra flies over his head, crashing back into the ground before spinning to face his conductor again. Orgon has finally slipped into a defensive pose, side by side with the handler as he grins. He's been practicing for this.
As the three vampires battle in front of me I can't help but wonder if Orgon had been bitten on purpose. Maybe it wasn't an accident, but rather a great way to strengthen himself. Maybe him being 'overpowered' was simply meant to give Ezra a false hope in his fight for freedom and independence. Maybe it was all planned, and we were just the pieces in his game.
I'm snapped back out of my thoughts as Ezra screams, skidding away on his back before rolling feet over shoulders and onto his knees. He chokes, gripping his throat as dark blood spills from between his fingers. Crimson drips from his lips, bubbling as he struggles to breath.
"EZRA!" I pull free of the grip on my shoulder, catching the man holding me by surprise. I only make it one step forward before he grips the back of my shirt, yanking me back so hard that I stagger and fall.
Orgon laughs as he thumbs his pocket knife, wiping the blade clean on his shirt as Ezra starts swallowing small amounts of air. Thank god he just fed.
Weapons aren't normally allowed in the fights, the only exceptions being if both conductors comply and pay a huge fine. I guess since this isn't a real fight run by the ring itself, anything goes. I hadn't thought Orgon would use a weapon though, as it's frowned down upon. Just for show I assume.
Ezra finally begins gasping for air, throat mostly healed and working again. His hands are slick with his own blood, as well as his collarbones and chest. He looks pissed as he begins pushing back to his feet.
Orgon smiles, giving a one shouldered shrug as he closes the knife and puts it back in his pants pocket. "Whoops," he says, voice thick through his slightly labored breathing, "I slipped."
Ezra lunges again, this time lower so Orgon can't dodge the attack. In a streak of black leather Ezra wraps his arms around Orgon's waist as he tackles him down, throwing him into the sand and raising dust. Not a full second passes before several punches hit Orgon on either side of the head, knocking him back and forth before the handler can grip Ezra's shoulders and throw him off. The crowd is screaming.
The fight follows this cycle for ten minutes. Ezra gets the upper hand, then gets thrown off or injured, then attacks again and gets a hit, then thrown off or injured.
Ezra broke Orgon's arm, then Orgon took a chunk of flesh off of Ezra's chest. Ezra clawed at Orgon's throat, then Orgon slammed Ezra's head into the wall. The open wounds, the bloodshed, the glints of metal and flowing crimson. Everything is so much more real up close, and everything looks so much worse.
I've figured out the handler is basically Orgon's body guard, giving him protection when it's clear Ezra is about to rip his head off. It really is an unfair fight, but then again, Ezra does have a significant amount of skill compared to Orgon. He's use to hands on fighting.
This continues for ten more minutes, only being broken as Orgon raises both hands. The man holding me shoves me against the wall, giving me a piercing glare to keep me from moving as he and his handler buddy tackle Ezra down. He doesn't have a chance to make another move.
He's tired and weak, breathing hard through his teeth as the two men grip his arms and pull him to his feet. At first he struggles and tries to break free, but gives up after a few seconds. He knows he can't get out of it.
Orgon straightens up from how he had been leaning over, and I can hear his injured spine snap back into place. I cringe as he takes in a deep breath, letting it back out in a long sigh as he winces. He may have drank a lot of blood before this, but it wore off quick with the beating he just took.
"You're a very good fighter, Ezra," Orgon compliments, cracking his fingers. A few look bent and broken, but he seems to ignore them. "But this isn't over; think you could go one more round?"
Ezra bares his teeth, and I watch as he fidgets and avoids standing on his left leg. His face is smeared with dark colors, hair matted with glitter and sand. He could have won long ago, but this isn't fair.
The door on the wall opens just enough for another one of Orgon's workers to slip inside. I furrow my eyebrows, confusion flooding my system as a woman begins stalking towards me.
"I'll take that as a yes." Orgon chuckles, gesturing for the woman to lead me to him. I can't stop staring as she grip my arm and starts dragging my feet. Ezra watches her with a scowl.
"Clover?" I whisper, watching her face even though she won't look at me. "Clover? You- you're-"
"Working under me?" Orgon finishes for me, reaching his hand out and gripping my elbow to pull me close. Clover won't look at any of us, and I can feel the guilt radiating from her figure.
She's not in a trance. She's not being threatened. She's doing this on her own accord.
My stomach twists as all the information begins to sink in. She was the reason for all of Orgon's advances, and all the information he just somehow knew. She had access to all of the files, all of the reports, all of the missions, and all of the people. She knew everything.
"She's more loyal to me than you are," Orgon says to Ezra. His snarl had melted into furry, taking the realization much harder than I did- I fully understand why. "She always was daddy's girl, after all."
Again I look over to her, shocking dwindling in my heart. No wonder she's not intimidated while standing next to him; she's his daughter.
Orgon wraps an arm around my biceps and chest, making my heart skip a beat as he draws out his pocket knife. Ezra growls, but pauses as my hands finally slip free and separate from behind my back. I pull them forward, looking down as I flex my tingling fingers. My wrists are bruised and purple, chaffed and burnt in places from the hours worth of resistance. What is he doing?
"Now," Orgon says, holding my back flush against his chest as he lifts a finger to tug at my shirt collar. My eyes widen. "I know this has been a stumped fight, as you're just as skilled of a fighter as me and my partner are together. So, to push the balance a little bit I figured it'd be fun to give myself a power up.
"And on top of that," he continues, tightening his grip as I raise my hands to tug on his arm, "I can demonstrate to all the paying spectators just how important it is to give a vampire a claim to fight for."
I dig my nails into the flesh of Orgon's forearm, but he doesn't budge. My heart is racing even faster than it was before, and I can guarantee the man can feel every tremor my muscles make. This isn't happening, he can't-
"Orgon," Ezra growls, tugging on his arms. The people holding him don't loosen their grip. "Don't you dare."
Orgon grins, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh, a sentence!" he exclaims, making the breath hitch in my throat as his grip tightens even more, "I haven't heard any words from you in days! See Leon? Look at the way he's wrapped around your finger."
I swallow hard, struggling to breath as I claw his arm and begin to draw blood. I don't have a good grip, and my arms shake with fatigue. I haven't eaten in three days, haven't slept right, and haven't stood on my own feet for more than half an hour in maybe a week. I can't fight this myself- hell, I can't fight at all. I'm at his mercy.
"P-Please," I plead, voice low enough to be a whimper, "don't-"
"Oh, but I must," Orgon says, pulling my shirt collar out of the way, "it's going to be fun.
"And yes, Ezra," he says, raising a finger as a low growl rattles from Ezra's chest, "I know you claimed him, he's your property, I don't have the right to touch him, all that good territory stuff, but I own you, so technically I own him too."
Ezra's warnings get louder, and the tugging of his arms gets more violent. "If you-"
"Not if," Orgon says, gripping my jaw and forcing me to look at Ezra, "when. And that when, is now. Smile for your master, Leon."
I scream as Orgon's fangs drill into my throat, my cry quickly drowned out by Ezra's shriek of defiance. It feels like fire is burying itself under my skin, and the pressure that his jaw creates makes me believe he's about to tear a chunk of flesh off my body.
My knees buckle, but Orgon holds me up as he starts to drain as much blood from me as he can. I thought being bitten by a vampire hurt when Ezra did it, but that memory feels like cotton candy and sunshine compared to this.
I can't hear anything over the blood pounding in my ears, and lightheadedness makes my eyelids flutter. I'm going to die here.
Suddenly the pressure changes, and the white hot flames spread from my throat and down to my chest. My heart sputters, contracting my muscles and making stabbing pain flare from within my rib cage.
Orgon draws back with a gasp, releasing his hold on my chest and letting me fall on my knees. Immediately I grip the wound on my throat, making my shaking hands slick with red. I can feel burning venom pumping through my veins, wrapping my heart in a vice grip and threatening to burst my arteries. I can't breathe.
Ezra's screaming makes a migraine thump behind my ears, and he doesn't stop as Orgon grabs the back of my shirt and forces me to sit up. I force my eyes open, turning my head just in time to look down the barrel of a hand gun.
"Ezra." Orgon's voice rings in my ears, making me sway in and out of consciousness as I glance back at Ezra. My heartbeat is finally slowing down, but it shows no signs of settling. It's going to stop. "I know you're very upset with me right now, but I'm doing this for a reason."
My vision is getting blurry, and the spotlights seem even brighter than before. My stomach aches with an unfamiliar feeling, and the gums on my upper jaw burn like bubbling acid. He bit me to turn me.
"I want your next competitor to have a fair chance," he says, patting me on the top of the head, "so I gave him that. I'm handing the effort off, and I'm afraid I forgot to tell you him and I are on the same team."
I want to raise my hands and block the gun, but nothing I do can save me from this.
"But I know he won't fight if I just send him out like this, so I'll just have to pull the same little trick I used on his mother. He'll be much more obedient than you ever were."
Tears begin falling from my eyes, and I'm finally able to hear the roaring of the crowd through the crashing of waves in my ears. My headache is dwindling, but I can't feel my heartbeat anymore.
"I'm keeping my promise," Orgon says, waiting for Ezra's shriek to die. His threats hold no status anymore. "He'll make it out of here alive tonight, just not in the way he thought.
"So with that," he exclaims, and I flinch as a click echoes in my ear, "it's time for his training."
He pulls the trigger.