The Atlantean Chronicles: Call of the Sea

Chapter Eighteen

Diana's head snapped up with a gasp. She could taste the blood on her tongue, feel it pooling in her mouth. Diana glared scornfully up at Meison who sat in the stands of a massive arena, amongst a throng of onlookers while a brutish man beat Diana senseless. 

She'd been struggling to prepare herself for what sort of examples Meison planned to make of her. For at least two days after her initial arrival, she'd sat impatiently, anxiously waiting for the inevitable when those doors to the Holding Hall opened and she was dragged from her cell. 

This was far worse than she'd imagined.

Meison wasn't even going to give her a fighting chance to defend herself. She'd been locked in that god-damn cell for... she wasn't entirely sure how long anymore; if she had to guess, at least a week. This was the third time Meison had his goons drag her up to the arena, located somewhere above the Holding Hall, pitting her against men twice her size, none of which appeared to look completely human either. 

Her opponent today was a massive man with skin so dark, it was almost black. His muscles looked like he had been carved out of stone and his skin gleamed under the bright arena lights. He smiled venomously down at her, revealing rows a jagged teeth, looking more shark-like than human.

Diana's head flung back as the warrior took another swing at her face. She fell back, staring dazed up at the ceiling, her nose throbbing. This was hopeless and humiliating. Meison had held true to his word, he was most certainly making an example of her.

With a groan, Diana rolled onto her hands and knees and forced her aching legs to stand. She hadn't even straightened her back when the warrior charged again. He grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to remain hunched over and brought his knee up. Air escaped her as he struck her in the diaphragm.

Get up! A voice screamed in her head as Diana lay on the floor, blood pooling from her mouth, her breaths ragged and weak. Get up! Diana slowly pulled her arms in close to her, bracing them to push her up. She'd been dying to fight, for real, to put her newly honed skills to use, to show the people of Atlantis what she was capable of. But Meison was far more cunning than she'd given him credit for. He made sure she went into every fight with her arms bound behind her back. They weren't even fights, they were beatings, justified by the label.

Today, at least, he'd been merciful enough to let her enter without cuffs. He knew she was weak from lack of food and from the last few beatings she'd already taken that week. She couldn't do this, couldn't take any more of this pain; her body begged her to stay there, act as if she were unconscious, end the fight then and there.

Get up! But that voice in her head... Fight, defend yourself! It was her voice; there was still a part of her inside that wasn't ready to give up, wasn't ready to let Meison win.

Fire burned in Diana's chest. She bared her teeth and slowly pushed up, her arms trembling from the effort. A shadow loomed behind her as the warrior approached. She knew what his next move would be, it had been every opponents' final move against her: lift her up like she weighed nothing and throw her halfway across the arena.

Just as the warrior bent down to grab her, Diana rolled to the side. Her opponent grunted in surprise, stumbling forward a few steps. Diana leapt to her feet, her knees nearly giving out as she did so.

The warrior whirled around to face her, baring those bone-chilling teeth in frustration. He glanced up into the stands behind Diana where Meison sat, waiting for his master's command.

"I'm not done with you yet big guy," Diana wheezed, blood dribbling from the corner of her mouth. She didn't want to think about the internal damage that had to have been dealt to her body.