Animal

Without Them

My exhausted eyes run over the claws attached to my fingers instead of my opponent across from me, on the other side of the arena. They're interesting things, they really are. Sharp and deadly, its like I will always have a weapon at my disposal, but... I can't use them on who I really want too. I can't sink my claws into the man and woman who torture me, who lock me away in rooms, and who beat me. The man and woman who took Oliver away and made it my fault. The man and woman who took my humanity away, strips at a time. I can't do anything to them. I never could. I never can.

Because... an animal should never bite the hand that feeds them. Its just stupid, right?

Sometimes you just have to recognize who's in control and accept it, that's what I figure. I'm just a tool.

I am so tired, both physically and mentally. I don't sleep anymore, but that's all I want to do.

"Hey, pay attention!" My eyes snap up to my opponent. I forget his name... something Allen, maybe Garner? I dunno... and I don't care. "What's wrong? Didn't get enough sleep last night? You better wake up quick, little girl, because you're about to go down for a permanent nap." My lips twitch. That was a little funny.

My eyes trail over the man lazily. He was about six feet tall, maybe 165lbs, long black hair, very light brown skin, blue eyes. He's muscular. "I...I..." My mouth feels dry and I stumble over my first few words. I had just been released from the room a day ago, after all, I was still off. "I thought this wasn't a kill fight?" I finally get out.

He snorts. "You obviously didn't do your research rookie," I suppose I am still a rookie technically, "it doesn't matter the Fight type to me, I don't leave any of my victims alive, especially you SPGA freaks."

My lips curl up into a sleepy smile. "Aren't you a special cookie?"

He shrugs his shoulders and pulls himself into his Fight stance, "I try, hun."

I lazily slip into my fight stance. The crowd roars in my sensitive ears. The loudness is sort of painful.

Maybe... just maybe, if I finish this Fight, I could sleep. Maybe, if I finish this fight, I could sleep without the dreams. I just... have to get through this Fight. The quicker, the better.

'GO!'

We circle each other for a while. I guess he's looking for a crack in my defense. That's new. He must find the crack in the armor, because his left foot moves back a second before he leaps forward. He aims a kick at my head. I grab his approaching leg and sink my claws into his calf. His screams bounce around on the inside of my head.

He jerks his leg out of my hold, tearing his leg up even more. He stumbles back and falls onto the ground, a large chunk of his leg missing. He screams and screams. I frown at him, not understanding why he was screaming. I flick his blood and leg tissue off my claws and approach him. I bend over him, grabbing his face with the same bloody hand.

"Do you still want this to be a K-Fight?" I ask curiously, not recognizing my own voice. My fingers trail down his jaw. I feel like a predator playing with its meal. I'm not sure how I feel. Apart of me is disgusted, while another part of me feels dull excitement rushing underneath my flesh and through my veins.

The man eyes are wide with fear and pain. He thinks he's going to die. I cock my head to the side. Is that the face you make, I wonder. I can't remember anyone else making that face.

I hear his hand move before I catch the movement out of the corner of my eye. I grab the hand, it was moving painfully slow, he must really be in pain.

"You said you don't ever leave your victims alive." I say. "Why should I leave you alive? Do you think they felt this way... How you're feeling right now?" I ponder seriously. "You see, I've thought about it a lot... how they felt...What they were thinking... Do you ever do that?" He stares at me, lips thin. I can hear him swallow. "No?" Does that make him a bad person? He's not bothered that he kills people, he's not even being forced too. I think?

"This is why I hate Fighters like you..." He finally says something, voice trembling. "The SPGA freaks... you aren't human! Not anymore!" I agree...

"But..." I say quickly. "Why do you care about whose human and whose not, don't you kill all your victims. Not all Fighters have SPGA implants," I pause. "My mother's family believes that when someone kills another person, that, the killer gives up their humanity. She and her family believes you aren't even human anymore after you take another person's life."

He coughs violently. "What...What are you talking about?"

What am I talking about, indeed? I don't bother looking up, but I can tell everyone in the audience is quiet. I don't think they can hear our conversation, but a few are whispering words of confusion.

I sigh.

"I should make sure you stop being a Fighter." I nod along with my words. "Its a horrible thing."

The man sputters and I stand, still holding onto his arm. I smile. I stomp on his ribs, twist his arm, and run my claws swiftly over his forearm, cutting off half his arm. I drop his hand on the white arena floor, which is slick with red blood.

He screams, screams and screams some more. He shouldn't have to be a Fighter anymore, not with these injuries.

Maybe I can sleep now... without the dreams.