Hunted- Old and unedited!

Three

The tiger awoke in a metal cage. He could feel a heavy chain fastened around his neck and secured to a stone wall. Candles lined the perimeter of the room. The cage was simply metal bars spread from one wall to the opposite wall. The cage covered a third of the room which wasn’t very much at all. A single hallway led out of the room. The hallway was lit every metre by a fiery torch. There was a wooden door that gently creaked on its hinges leading into the hallway. The tiger stood up but found the chain weighed him down. He crouched into a more comfortable position and lay back down. He could hear footsteps approaching him. A man entered and closed the door behind him. He wore colourful robes and smelled of a sweet fragrance. He pulled out a chair from the shadows and sat on it.

He dragged it to the cage and leant forward. His fingers were intertwined and he leant his chin on his knuckles.

 “You are very beautiful,” the man said, “you cost me a fortune you know.” The tiger blinked at him. “You will make an excellent member of my collection. People will pay a lot of money to see you once I’ve trained you.” The tiger focused hard and understood the man’s words just like Sapienti had said he would. Just as the man was about to begin his next sentence a high voice rang out.

 “Daddy! You’re home!” It screeched just as a small two-leg unlatched the door and ran towards the man. The tiger could see it was a cub like he was but man called it child. It had long black hair pulled back with a beautiful clip. The clip was encrusted with gems and was coloured with orange and black just like a tiger. The man chuckled. “I missed you daddy.” The child said. The tiger identified the voice as female.

“Amala, come over here. I want to show you something.”

The man led the girl to the cage where the tiger got a better look at her.

“You’ve grown so much since I last saw you.” The Indian man said with pride. “You are very pretty, just like your mother.” The girl said nothing. Her eyes were locked with the tigers. She couldn’t stop staring.

“What’s his name?” The girl enquired without taking her eyes off of the tiger.

“I haven’t named him yet, I thought you might like to.” The girl turned to her father and grinned. “Thank you father.” She said with joy. “I will call him Kayan.” The man smiled.

“An excellent choice. Now I don’t want you to ever reach into his cage when I’m not around.” He said placing his hand on her shoulder.

“Father?” the girl said with worry.

“Yes Amala?” He replied, unsure of where the conversation was heading.

“You won’t make him an arena tiger will you?” The man frowned before he turned to leave.

“We’ll see, now let us have dinner.” The girl looked at Kayan one last time before following her father.

 “It’ll be okay. I promise.” She whispered with certainty.

Kayan paced back and forth in his cage. He was reflecting on every single word. What was an arena tiger? He repeated in his mind over and over again. He roared in frustration and shook his head in surrender. His stomach growled and he realized just how hungry he was. He sucked in a large breath and let out his loudest roar. He continued to roar and roar until he could hear many sets of feet coming down the hallway. He pressed himself against the iron bars and peered into the light. The Indian man was there along with two others. The man carried a long flexible stick with sharp edges near the end of it. Kayan stepped back from the cage door. He examined the other two men. They wore identical white robes but one was old and one was young. The young man appeared to be an adolescent. The older man had a neatly trimmed grey beard. The older man carried a bucket whilst the young man carried a ring with metal objects.

The tiger identified the objects as keys. He was more interested in the bucket however because it smelt of meat. Fresh meat. The tiger began to salivate at the smell. The Indian man smiled as he watched Kayan stare at the bucket.

“Not much gets past you.” He said with a cruel smile. The young man went to the cage door upon the Indian man’s signal and opened the door. Kayan cringed against the far wall of his prison. The old man went into the cage, closely followed by the Indian man. The Indian man probed his sharp weapon into Kayan’s side. He was rewarded with a swat from the tiger’s paw.

“Pathetic.” The man spat swinging the rod into the tiger’s face. “You can do better than that Kayan. Defend yourself you rat!” The man continued to avoid Kayan’s attacks while he injured the tiger nonstop.