Page 17 of Reign of Betrayal

We areall ushered to the massive ‘ring’ room for yet another fight. In the packed confines of the stone room, the air hangs heavy and oppressive—thick with the scent of damp earth and stale sweat. Each breath feels like a struggle, as if the very air itself resists intrusion into its suffocating embrace. What I assume to be dust particles dance in the air, adding a gritty texture to each intake of breath that coats my throat and lungs. As I look over the packed room, I see inmates shoulder to shoulder, overlapping everywhere—a sea of gray. There is no space left. The room is filled to the brim.

Close to the stage, I spot the royal guards and a massively tall, muscular man dressed in all black, emulating formidable power. He isn’t wearing the royal colors of red and gold. I wonder who he is to afford protection from the royal guards. Maybe he is with Vanna; however I do not spot her tonight.

Elm and Larah appear on either side of me, just in time to see Big Al step on the stage. Gods and goddesses, I hate that man. The only things that have changed about him these last six years are the length of his beard, the severity of his cruelty, and the weight of the coins in his pocket.

“Good evening, everyone.” Big Al’s voice is oily. “Tonight, we have a special event.” He looks over to the strange man in black and the royal guards beside him, wearing an irritated expression. “The king has sent Prince Lukene here to retrieve a few of you.”

The strange man is a royal—Prince Lukene. I look to Larah and Elm; confusion is stitched onto their faces, that mirrors my own.

Big Al continues, “He will be retrieving twenty prisoners to compete in trials at the royal palace. He will be judging you on your fighting tonight. I have selected forty of you to compete in our ring night—twenty fights, twenty champions. The winners will leave tonight with the guards and head to the palace for the royal trials.”

Elm immediately looks at me and Larah. “This is it! This is our chance to get revenge on the royals for putting us here. If we leave the Hollows, we have a chance, a shot at a real future, and payback for what they did to us.” He is finally moving around normally after his whippings a couple of weeks ago, and thank the mother he is, because he needs to win tonight.

Larah and I nod, a real future—something other than the Hollows. I swallow hard, feeling my throat bob as I do. Finally, a chance at revenge. Dreaming about the sweet taste of revenge is what motivated me to keep on living these past six years in this hellhole.

“Fight fiercely. Fight mightier than you have ever fought. Our futures depend on this. We all need to make it,” Elm states with such seriousness in his tone.

I let Elm’s words sink in. He is right. If we get out of the Hollows, we have a chance—a real chance. I have no clue what these royal trials will consist of, but anything is better than staying here, underground.

Big Al calls the forty inmates he chose to fight, and he dismisses the rest. Once the room empties out, the fights begin. Pair by pair, the inmates fight. Elm and Larah both win their matches—not surprisingly. Now it is down to me. I am the last to go.

I step up onto the stage. I feel like I have a lead ball rolling around in the pit of my stomach. I usually don’t get nervous for fights, but I have so much to lose with this one. I steady my nerves and even out my breathing. I will win this fight. I will win for Elm, for Larah, for myself, for a chance at revenge, for… just a chance to leave The Hollows, no matter how brief the time away from here is.

My opponent walks on to the stage. She must be from another section of the prison. She is tall—at least a head taller than me. She is thicker than me too, but most are. Half of her head is shaved with the other half in a long black braid. I smile at her—widely and brightly. So many underestimate me because of my size. It’s always their downfall. Elm and Larah have trained me well over these last six years.

I bounce on the balls of my feet, fists up, and wait.

Gong.

I don’t even give her a second to breathe before I am on her. I rain down punch after punch, landing a good one, right on her jaw. Her eyes widen in surprise, as she didn’t expect me to be this good. What did she expect?

I fall back and let her get some shots in. We’ll trade a few until she thinks I am tired.

She comes at me. I deflect her first punch, and when I see the second one coming, I don’t dodge it, instead I let it hit me straight in the face.

Her fist connects with my mouth and nose as my head flies back. I can feel the warmth of my blood as it leaks from my nose and down my face. It dribbles out of the corner of my mouth, and I revel in the metallic taste of it. Using the back of my hand, I wipe it away and look at her with a smirk.

She grimaces. I suspect I am getting under her skin. She comes at me again, full force this time.

We trade blow for blow—mostly body shots.

Her fist connects with the right side of my body.

Damn.

I think she cracked a rib, or at least bruised it badly. I didn’t expect that. I hunch over just for a brief second—a mistake I realize. Now she knows she injured me. She thinks she has me. I see it in her face as her lips curl into a grin.

Perfect.

I steady myself—gathering my strength. Ignoring the pain in my side, I bounce on my feet and circle her. She kicks her muscular leg at me, right in my damn right side. I stumble a bit, but not before I land a solid punch to her thigh, causing her to pull her leg back. Her leg buckles when she puts her weight on it.

Excellent.

“End it!” Elm yells.

“Quiet 4682!” Big Al snaps.

I meet Elm’s stare for a split second. He nods his head. He doesn’t want me to play any longer.

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