The Half-Breed Hotel

One year later.

That was around a year ago...

I stalked around the arina, shoulders held high and ears perked up. My tail swishing from side to side as I strode to my competitor and offered him my hand. He grudgingly took it in his and, after a minute, grunted acidly, "You're good, for a girl." I keeped a straight face, but glanced briefly down at the gash in his left bicep. I'd won fair and square. He huffed, jerked his hand out of mine and stomped away. From what I knew, even normal servant half-breeds didn't enjoy losing. The cheers reached my ears then, "WIIIN-TER! WIIIN-TER! WIIIN-TER!" and I looked up into the audience and stood, allowing myself to enjoy my arina name echo off the walls. My ears pricked at the sound of the door opening behind me half a second before I turned to see who my next and last opponent was for the day. In that half second I could already tell they are a big fellow. Wide and heavy, but not fat. The sound of an overweight person sounded very different than one with copious amounts of muscle. My ever searching eyes did the rest of the work. He was tall and bearded, his frame built for strength, but not so crammed with it that it restricted his movement. From his walk alone I could tell that despite his big mass of muscles, he was also fast on his feet, a tough opponent. The back of his hands were covered in course black hair, tough and sinewy. Tusks jutted out from his bottom jaw and a line of hair trailed its way down his spine. After a little more than half a year learning as much as I could about the world I knew what kind of half-breed he was. A warthog. His chest was bear and the crowd quieted as he entered onto the field. They broke out in murmuring whispers and I caught some of what they were saying. Most of what carried to my ears had the same message. What was he doing carrying no weapon? Unlike in most dueling situations, this arena normally only dealt with armed fights. The speaker came on and a raspy voice boomed through the speakers. "The new contestant is to be brought a weapon of his masters choice if he wishes to participate in th..." The voice was cut off abruptly by whispers on the other end and after a few seconds the voice came through the speakers once again. "We have just been informed that the owner of this establishment is here tonight and approves this duel if both sides agree to prohibited use of weapons." Exited whispers flowed from the crowd around and heads begin to turn in every witch direction, futilely hoping to catch a glimpse at the man mentioned. Strange, humans. The man across from me fixed his eyes on mine and smiled, bearing his tusks and snorting. Then he looked up towards where the voice had come from and nodded, giving his masters acceptance to the man on the other side of the speakers. He then glared a challenge at me from across the arena. I analyzed the thoughts in my head. Even when I'd had a little more than a year to memorize the english language, along with various other languages, I still didn't think in words. Only facts. This fight is a Face off type. The most taxing of the duels, comprised of an odd number of events. The one who wins the most challenges wins the hole event. Since he has offered up the idea of going without weapons, there is going to be more than one challenge involving him attacking me. Most likely all of them. The man across from me started to grin and I knew in that instance, he thinks this will be easy. I can prove him wrong. I loped back to the door closest to me and held out my rented daggers. The crowd cheered, and not for me. For the idea of a slightly more exciting battle to come. The half-breed across the ring lumbered around his side of the arena, grinning at the crowd, who cheered right back at him. He was popular, and arrogant. He doesn't turn his back to me completely, he doesn't think of me as a threat, but he's in the habit of not trusting his opponents. I was doing the same, keeping my gate relaxed and confident, almost a lazy and graceful loupe, but my mind was fixed solely on him. He's doing the same to me, but he's not as good at hiding it. He suspects I know nothing. The speakers came on again and we both turned towards each other. "Half-breed contestants, step onto your platforms and wait for the match to start." We made our way to the slightly elevated circles in front of the doors on our sides of the arena and stood in them facing each other. From under us the sound of machines echoed in the chambers concealed by the wooden floor, only our circles were made of stone. The wooden floor shifted with the sound of gears, splitting and spiraling into 8 separate pieces of flooring, that retreated into slits in the wall behind and beneath us. From below, rising from the depths, come a woodland arena, tall trees shooting from the shadows, come to a rest high above our heads. The first of the three games. The words "The hunt" appeared on the screen high above, titling the first they'd play. Where various animals were set loose into the arena to hunt. The bigger the animal the more points it was worth, depending on the type of "Hunt" not all of the animals would be pray. You could gain more points for catching a predator or by not killing or injuring your pray. The buzzer went off and I jogged quietly into the mock forest. I travelled about 8 yards and then stopped. A sent entering into my nose, my mouth watering out of instinct. Without thinking I turned and followed the scent. I didn't travel far at all when I sensed it in a bush not far off. It shivered and quivered in its pelt, its furry tail trembling. Quickly I dashed for it, pining it to the ground before it could move. I gathered it in my arms, stroking its ears down over it's back. Quickly, having no time to lose, I dashed back to the entrance and looked around for the pen usually located somewhere nearby only to realize that there was none. The realization hit me a second later. It's underground. There would be a pit hidden under a thin layer of camouflage. My keen eyes scanned the undergrowth, looking for the slight change in color or patterns in the green grass they always somehow missed. My nose caught the faint smell of mettle and I looked harder. There. By the base of the stone half circles. Leaning down and wedging the fingers on one of my hands into the dirt, I pried up, loosening the hatch that hadn't been used in at least a few months. Even though it had been closed, the contestants were still aloud to use them. The latch opened, swinging up to reveal a net for the smaller pray, and three pits. Each with a large bucket of water at the bottom, a basin really. I quickly set the small pen up for my smaller catches, placing the rabbit inside and closed the hatch. Racing back into the woods, I sprinted around trees. I could smell the boar man on the other side of the arena as well as a multitude of other animals. And from the sound of it, he'd caught a big hall. A dear, it's legs kicking as it tried to escape. Then the noise stopped with a distant, but audible, "Crack!". He wasn't even trying to keep his kills alive. I put that out of my mind as I pinpointed a dear, slightly smaller than the one that had been caught by my opponent, but big nonetheless. I streaked towards the animal, not because of the pray though, but for the predator I knew was lurking in the bushes not too far away. Before it could move its position, I lunged, connecting my fist with the top of its nose, and sending a zinging shock to it's brain. I then boxed it in the side of the head, stunning it further. It yowled in pain and rage, it's teeth glinting evilly in the artificial light and sending the dear bounding into the grim forest in alarm. Suddenly the arm of the big cat, a leopard, swiped out in reflex. The claws missing my stomach by inches, as I dodged it, jumping back just in time. It snarled and yowled, in a terribly foul mood. I couldn't blame it. In one swift movement I swung my foot around, connecting with it's speckled jaw and sending it's head into the side of a tree. With a thud that shook leaves from the dying plant, it slid to the ground and I easily draped the limp cat over my shoulders. I would not have been able to heft it so easily a year or two ago, but the harsh training had hardened my muscles. As well as serving as a distraction from... the world. As the leopard dropped into the pen below, I glanced up at the clock on the screen above. And watched as the red minute number flickered from 9 to 8 and my hands twitched. The trees and grass were secreting a sweet scent. One of sickness. They required water, oxygen and sunlight, the last being the hardest to simulate down in the caverns. Huge cylindrical storage racks where the arenas are stored. The animals smelled like their own waste and their eyes were bloodshot. They'd most likely been captured just a few days earlier or harvested from one of the many game zoos. Exotic farms where they bred, razed, and sold the animals they "cared" for, souly for the purpose of the games. Animals were raised in seclusion most of the time, periodically brought to fight with the other animals of their species, in the case of predators. Razed in a community of too many animals if they were pray. Resulting in each of the animals, used in the game, being on edge and jumpy. Forever scarring them by the morbid and unethical way they were raised. It was cruel and disgusting and I detested them for it. All of them.

Seconds after I slipped a still wriggling fish into the murky water, there was a loud buzzing noise and I straightened. In the holding pens below was 1 deer, 3 big cats, 2 fish, and 4 rabbits. All of which were, unfortunately for them, alive, save for the small, starving doe laying on the ground above. It'd tried to run but had been in such a horrible condition it had been more of a mercy to kill it then to let it live any longer. So I'd put it out of its misery. Then the alarm sounded, signaling that the match was over and the speaker came on once more. "Make your way back to your platforms and await the next battle." There was a roar across the field and her ears flicked up at the noise. Ignoring it, she lopped gracefully onto the stone disk jutting from the wall. Once again after a minute of waiting, the floor shook and the grass disappeared into the dank, sickly darkness below, then the bushes and trunks, and finally the tips of the trees disappeared from sight. With each movement of the mechanical gears deep beneath the earth, the ground shook. There was a crisp, heavy clicking sound as the forest arena stopped on the correct floor, sliding into its specific slot and another made its way up to the ground floor.