YOU: The Deep Dark

A short story….

I’ve been brought to the pit. He’s to fight for me again. When the next piece of flesh thrown down there is dead, he’ll finally have me. He’s seen me. He’s smelled me. He’s tasted and touched me. Only one thing remains.

I’ve lost track of time and my sanity fled weeks ago. The passage of time is measured by nothing other than the times I stand by this pit.

Screams echo in the dark cavern and reverberate in my chest while I’m forced to listen. Me standing by this pit. Me listening to the screams. This is how I measure time.

In the days before these brutal fights to the death, he paces the confines of our cell, growling promises of what he’ll visit on me next. Of course, he can’t touch me. Not yet. Such privileges must be earned, like the final violation he seeks in the dankness of that pit.

Each day—is it even a day? Sometimes it feels like an endless eternity—they bring us here, lowering him down to fight while forcing me to wait.

You’re only just now arriving to meet your fate. Do you even understand what you have to lose? Are you even human like the monster who lurks in that pit? Like me? Or are you something else?

Shadows dance over the hardened planes of your rough cut muscle, bipedal, but I your face remains a mystery. Your strength is undeniable, but it won’t be enough. And even if it is, what do I care. We’ll begin this dance again. Victories bringing sight, smell, taste, touch, and worse, to the newest victor.

You’re a mystery to everyone in this foul place. They anticipate your fear-stench, hunger for it even. They will lap up your terror and devour it.

Even if you win, there will come the time when you become him. It’s inevitable. One day you will turn from victor to loser. I wonder if you wouldn’t prefer the quicker death? I would join you, except they keep their precious prize alive with a religious devotion.

And there you are, no more than a passing glimpse before the Deep Dark swallows you with one step from darkness, to light, and back into shadow. You’re tall. Athletic. Powerful even. A ferocity coils within you. Even I can sense that. And while I have my own questions, these monsters have but one.

“Will he?’

And I shudder, wondering the same. My gaze locks on the glowing amber of your eyes. Not human. The shaking in my limbs intensifies and rattles the chains dangling from my shackles. While I don’t mean to wish you harm, the thought does cross my mind. A moments’ glimpse reveals your broad shoulders before they blocked the light. Your features, hidden from my sight, bring forth images of lethal power, of dominant strength, of feral lust, and imminent death.

Death to your enemies.

Your alien body vibrates the air of this place, filling it with fury and rage. Mine answers, a weaker response, fluttering outward before dissipating in the rankness of the air. It’s like I don’t even exist. You see, I know defeat. Whether you win down there or not, you will soon know it too.

Fear spikes through me, but I force myself to calm, unwilling to feed our captors’ hunger. I do not belong to you. Not yet.

The beast down there, he’s not entirely sane. This place does that. It breaks apart a person’s mind, feeding their fears until they crack. He’s killed four others, and knows what he’ll earn with his fifth victory. My dear warrior, I fear you, but I fear him more. Kill him. Kill him, for me.

We’ll begin another game, and I’ll dance around the cracks in my mind. This place…it’s hell and there is no escape.

The Deep Dark closes around the gathering, shrouding us in nothingness. For me, I accept the lack of light. I’ve long since abandoned hope. I embrace my fate, or at least what my mind whispers into the deepening cracks in my sanity.

You’re nothing but a twisting bulk of muscle to me, breathing hard as our captors maneuver you over the pit. Beneath your feet He waits to rip and rend. None of his bouts last more than a few of my strangled breaths. Each one bringing him one step closer to his prize, one I will not survive.

His rut is my ruin.

The platform sways beneath your feet, boards creaking and groaning with your weight. Your chains clang, and your breath rattles the air. Long, ponderous pulls of life giving oxygen—a substance you won’t need much longer.

Will they hand you the key? They don’t always. They enjoy playing with their toys. Not that you’d time during the drop to free yourself. It’s a tease, a taste of freedom they suck into their lungs.

But what do I care? I already count you among the dead.

Why am I wasting breath on you at all? Except, even if you are as bad as him, a win today would only earn you a glimpse of your future prize. Your win will buy me more time. Four more opportunities to pray another monster will take your place and reset the clock on my eventual ruin.

A guttural laugh signals the beginning. From the rustling, I deduce they’ve given you the key. Now it’s up to you. Waste time unlocking your chains or brace for your fall.

Beside me, Ranckor’s breath fills the air. His foul stench rolls over me, making me gag. “This one is strong,” he hisses, “but Icknor gave him the wrong key. What do you think will happen when he drops?”

My conditioning keeps my revulsion in check. I’d once been a fighter myself, if you can believe that. I was not always this pathetic thing.

Ranckor would fuck me if he could, but his body parts are incompatible with my physiology. They weren’t here for me. Ranckor, Icknor, all of them, they got off on the fight for dominance, by the males who fought for the privilege to rape.

With a slurp of his forked tongue, Ranckor yanks on the chain which releases you into the pit. You drop into dark depths. There you will battle for life.

I pray you climb out of that pit. I needed a new man to hate.

To be continued….

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About Ellie Masters

Just enjoying and exploring a passion for writing science fiction, fantasy, and romance...
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