Against all odds (The Pack)

Chapter 47

This is gonna be another longer chapter :3

Warnings: Blood, gore, pretty sad, longish, Preston may or may not die. Who knows. It'll be a cliffhanger ;)

~3rd P.O.V.~

"I swear on whatever honour I have left, I'll end you for what you've done." Mitch hisses as Roxanne brushes past him, leading Preston through the doors to the stadium.
She glances back at him, eyes glinting in twisted amusement. "So you believe Preston will die then? Hm. That makes two of us."

Mitch glares at her back intensely as she strolls away, teeth clenched and hands balled into painfully tight fists. The iron doors clank shut behind Roxanne as she and Preston officially enter the stadium. While they move to opposite ends of the sandy ground, the rest of the Pack walk away to circle around and seat themselves on one of the meany benches surrounding the field, Mitch still fuming the entire way.

"Are you displeased, Mitch?" Vikk comments, noticing his friends aggravated body language.
"Very."

     As they seat themselves in the utterly deserted stadium bleachers, waiting for Preston and Roxanne to start, Vikk decides to take in his surroundings. For... Emergency reasons. The benches, spanning around the massive arena, are constructed of cobblestone like nearly everything else in the kingdom. Old rusty metal bars make a dome over the arena, the ground of said arena dropping a good seven blocks below the lowest row of benches, and being filled with sand. The bars are spaced wide enough to give a relatively good view of the arena, but not nearly wide enough to squeeze through-even for Vikk. Unless of course someone pitched an enderpearl through. The stadium is open roofed as well, giving light to the bright blue sky above, dotted with big fluffy clouds. At the moment only the Pack and Roxanne occupy the area, everyone else outside tracking down Rogues that escaped and keeping the captured ones contained. Well... Except for Rob. Despite his protests of wanting to stay and watch, Lachlan and Mitch managed to convince him to go get medical attention for his face from Seto. Reluctantly, Rob had agreed.

     It's a nudge from Mitch that breaks Vikk's train of thought.

     "They're about to start." Mitch murmurs, glancing at Vikk momentarily before returning his focus to the two figures down below, on opposite ends of the arena.
     "I don't trust her." Vikk mumbles, partially to himself.
      "I don't think any of us do." Mitch sighs, obviously concerned for the lava mobs life.

Jerome reaches over and pats his upper arm reassuringly.

~~~

     ~Preston's P.O.V.~

As Roxanne pulls out two spiked gauntlets, pulls them on, and then draws a double sided war-axe, I take it as the starting signal. Concentrating all the anger I hold towards her, and relishing in the feeling yet to come for killing her, and avenging my parents, I let my skin flare up to a deadly temperature. As my temperature rises to almost a dripping heat, I draw a gleaming diamond sword from my inventory, enchanted with a single teir of sharpness. As the ground lights up in a warm glow despite the sunlight shining down, Roxanne smirks, smashing a potion filled with light orange liquid over herself. A scowl creeps onto my face. Fire Resistance. With a furious cry, yet still with a smile touching her lips, Roxanne charges forward. Narrowing my eyes, raw anger and hatred fuelling me, I take off to meet her, brandishing my sword.

Our blades meet in a shower of sparks, and I'm not surprised that she matches-if not surpasses-my strength. And I'm no weakling. Adjusting her grip, Roxanne gives a particularly hard shove, twisting at the same time. My blade catches in the cube of one of her blades, and I realize she's trying to disarm me. Acting quickly, I tighten my grip, diving the same way she pulls and unlocking my sword from her axe, landing on my hands and knees. Barking a laugh, Roxanne swings the heavy axe in a wide arc, and I drop to my stomach, just narrowly avoiding having my head parted from my shoulders. Kicking myself back up, I strike out in an attempt to catch the arm holding her axe. In a flash, she switches hands, and uses her left hand to swing at my chest. Alarm bells ring in my head, an jump back, the blade whistling inches from my chest.