The Colosseum

Reconnaissance

Kova

You should try to take the high road. Recover and do better...that's what needs to happen from now on. I've heard it feels better than revenge, so I imagine it's like ecstasy. I followed Ezra's advice from that day, and rather than hit Ten where it mattered, I took him to Val's - I mean...after I roughed him up a bit, but how couldn't I? Anyways, I excepted this immense rush of satisfaction to make me smile and breathe a sigh of relief, but in all honesty, I felt like I just passed up an amazing opportunity. I could've seen an unguarded exit from the Colosseum and passed it up because it was "unfair" to survive like that, and felt the exact same way I do now.

Next time I see him, I'll tell Ezra that being the bigger person isn't all he's heard it's cracked up to be.

Val offered to patch up my shoulder, but I had somewhere to be. I found Ten in the arena at midnight, but I didn't plan on our encounter being so long. Annette is supposed to be in the catacombs for sure, and I can't lose the chance to hear what she's been meeting people about, as well as who those people are.

Jogging to the secret room, I'm surprised by the expedient recovery of my knee. There's a dull ache anymore, but it's nothing debilitating. I think my pain tolerance is increasing as well, so this is nothing. The wind hitting my sliced shoulder is nothing more than a vague sting. I know Ezra is running these Colosseum games like crazy to get top-solider victors, but I really do feel like I'm a hardening recruit in bootcamp.

The more I descend to the level of the catacombs, the colder it gets. I wish I had brought a jacket. It doesn't matter how hot this goddamned desert is, once the sun sets, I might as well be in Antarctica.

Tentatively, I enter the lowest hallway, where I can either ascend a tight staircase to Gladiator Hill or hook a right into the secret catacomb room. Rounding the corner, an agonized, muffled scream moans through the corridor, shivering my bones and raising goosebumps on my skin. The hairs on the back of my neck stand upright and my breath hitches. I heard that these places were haunted, but perhaps that's a misconception. The haunted shrieks might just be a product of one of Annette's "meetings." Who else is in there? What is happening?

Forcing my feet to move, I tiptoe in front of the false crack in the wall. Pushing the stone out of the way like Ajax did, I quietly creep into the room of death. The stench of death instantly hits me from all angles, making me want to gag. Nevertheless, I suck it up and replace the block of rock that disguises this horrendous gravesite.

All the torches are unlit besides the one in the very back in the farthest corner. From here, I hear an assortment of quieted voices and loud whispers. There's a heavy thud, followed by that pained yelp. "Rot in hell!" a disgruntled man spits. "I'll die before telling you anything."

"Don't test me," the voice of my mother warns, darkness dripping from her tone. If the way she beat me to a pulp could be transferred into a sound, it would be those words. "You think you're the only person to breathe here for the last time? You're not special." Obviously, I knew corpses were stored here, but I didn't know that corpses were created here. Let alone, by Annette. Though I can't say I'm astonished...

"Special enough to be targeted by you," the captive rejoinders, a cocky swell of pride in his comeback. On my tiptoes, I creep to the outer wall of the catacombs, trying to get closer to the scene.

"Your wife and kids don't know the borders as well as you do, yet if you don't talk, I'll target them, too. That doesn't make them special – just leverage," another voice snivels, belonging to the grizzly-sounding man from before. "Tell us where you upped the guards by the smuggling tunnels and I'll let you live."