The Rumored Half

Training In Hell - Part 2

I am so sorry for the long wait! Hope you guys like this one! :)

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                                                 CHAPTER 10

The tiger in front of me leapt, and I realized how idiotic it was to remain standing, gawking at it- I had already learned that out, I jumped out of the way, only to have the weretiger roar in annoyance. The sound was as loud as a gunshot and my newly acquired super-hearing wasn’t helping the situation. Also, the smell was horrendous- like rotten eggs and flesh.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust, “Ever thought of using a breath-mint?” I asked calmly, I couldn’t seem weak here - they would eat me for lunch if I did, literally.

The Weretiger roared more loudly and forcefully in outrage. Shit, I was hoping it didn’t understand that. I guess they could still understand things in their animal form, or maybe it was just my tone of voice. Either way, I had a very pissed off tiger on my hands.

Perfect.

As it came after me again, I dodged but it came too close for comfort. My speed was the only thing on my side, and the fact that this was one-on-one. That was good because if I was up against a pack of them, I would have been ripped apart in a heartbeat. It was obvious that this animal worked better with others of its kind, but that didn’t mean it was a pushover.

I was fast but not that fast, and the were seemed to be getting more and more aggressive with each attack, making it harder and harder to dodge and I couldn’t get close enough to do any real damage with the knife, not yet anyway. It was graceful and somehow becoming faster and I was getting more scared, I couldn’t help it. It seemed to smell the fear and reveled in it, getting more excited as I was getting increasingly nervous.

I feinted to the right and then turned left but the Weretiger seemed to have anticipated that. Its claws came down at me along with its giant teeth and I couldn’t get out of the way quickly enough.

I couldn’t help but scream at the pain of my flesh being torn from my right upper arm as its claws grazed me. It left a gaping wound and I couldn’t see past a red haze of pain for a second, before it started to heal. The pain was receding, but it was still a distraction that I couldn’t afford. The scent of blood perfumed the air and the tension in the room went up a notch.

Suddenly the large arena seemed too small and suffocating. The hunger of the crowd only served to feed my growing fear and I could no longer hope to hide it. Why the hell did I agree to do this? Then again, I never really had a choice.

The giant pussy-cat is playing with me, I realized with more dread than outrage. Everywhere I turned it seemed to be one step ahead of me. The only choice I had was backwards, but I couldn’t risk taking my eyes off the beast for a second. The dagger was biting into my hand but it would be no use in the wounded arm so I shifted it to my left hand with the edge pointing low and flat on my palm. I kept edging back until my back was met with the cold hard rock wall.

Shit! My back was literally up against the wall, with no way to escape. How was I going to get out of this? My brain was on overdrive, trying to find a way to get out of this. But as he got closer, my heart started beating more erratically with each step. The Were was dragging it out, increasing my fear for some sadistic need that ran through its blood. And I could do nothing about it but meet my inevitable end.

Then I felt anger course through my blood, both at myself for my weakness and at this beast who dared to attack me. It was rage brought on from primal fear – the fear of dying. I clung to it- drew strength from it. I can’t die from this little cat; I’ve got bigger monsters to fry.