Kingdom Wolves: The Flames of Struggle

Chapter 4

     Mitch had never felt so low in his life. Huddled under a ledge, he sat in a shivering, sopping mess. He looked around as the rain poured down from the skies, pounding on the ledge above him. Thunder shook the skies, followed by streaks of lightning ripping through them. He winced as a droplet of rain dripped onto his snout from a hole in the ledge above. He deserved this. He deserved all of it. He was a terrible wolf who had done terrible things. He couldn't have a new life. He didn't deserve a new life. Especially not now. Not after this.

    Mitch felt the bile rising in his throat as the Fighter nodded for him to enter the ring. This is simple, he told himself. Just hold out for awhile, then get beaten. Just don't fight back. Easy.

    Mitch stepped forward, assuming a defensive position. The Fighter's eyes widened, then sparkled with a challenge. Mitch felt an uncomfortable chill run up his spine. This couldn't be good.

    The Fighter immediately went for a seasoned attack, not easy ones like he had used for the rest of Mitch's Groupmates. Mitch easily dodged, then hung back, refusing to attack. This is easy. This is easy. No problem. Just keep it up. Mitch focused on dodging as hard as he could. The Fighter seemed to be growing tired of attacking. Mitch felt his hackles twitch as the Fighter did a series of tougher attacks, clipping Mitch's ear on the last one.

     Mitch barely flinched. A tiny ear tear was nothing new to him. He'd had worse. The Fighter growled with frustration. He was obviously expecting Mitch to fight back. Mitch studied the Fighter's hind leg, watching the muscles quiver. He's going low. I'll jump over his head, then whirl around and block any hind attacks.

     Mitch crouched as well, pretending to be ready to block for a high attack, then leaped up as the Fighter sprang. Landing nearly behind him, he whirled around to block, but the Fighter was faster and clawed across his face. Mitch yelped and licked his nose, then lifted a paw to touch his cheek.

     His vision blurred. Blood. He felt his stomach stir as the taste of blood settled onto his tongue. The Fighter grinned proudly. "Good fight kid. You need work on your offense, but otherwise-" Mitch didn't hear the rest.

    He couldn't think, couldn't feel. All he saw was red. Blood red. He heard a yelp followed by several shrieks. His mouth and paws were damp and sticky. "Mitch!" His head jerked up, and his eyes cleared.

     "Sier-" Mitch froze. He looked down. The Fighter lay on the ground, his leg ripped open. Mitch trembled and stepped back. Blood. He tasted blood. He coughed and spat out the vile stuff. Lifting his head, he saw several wolves gathered around. His tail tucked.

    "No... No..." Mitch choked. He felt his stomach flip, and he fought the urge to puke. He lowered his head slowly. Everyone was staring at him. I'm a monster... Mitch's ears went flat back, and he turned and ran. I'm never going back... I Can't go back... I.... I won't!

    

   

      He closed his eyes, still panting from his desperate run to get away. Bloody images from cycles ago flashed through his mind. Pain shot up his left front leg, and he tasted blood. His eyes flashed open, and he blinked repeatedly, trembling with fear. No... No... I can't go back... I'm never going back...

      Mitch felt his eyes watering as memories he thought he had forgotten flowed through his mind. No! No! Go away! He clenched his teeth as uncontrollable tears rolled down his face. Collapsing on the ground, he buried his face in his paws. He lay there, sobbing, while the rain poured down. Eventually, he cried himself to sleep, the sound of the pouring rain fading away as he drifted into unconsciousness.