The Arena - The Moon Trilogy - Book #2

Chapter twenty-seven:

Clarity only caught herself in the act of dozing off when she woke up. She'd been strangely exhausted since arriving at the strange prison. There were a dozen different things she could blame it on, but she wasn't sure which one she wanted to pick. Stress seemed like an okay scape goat, even if it was one of the less likely candidates.

She shook her head and tried to remember the reason why she had so suddenly awoken.

The door had been jiggled, giving off that slight metallic clink. She looked to see if there was anyone on the other side, and there was. Of course, they were quite unwelcome guests.

Eric Lance and August stood side by side, glaring into the cell.

"If you try anything like that again, it will be the last thing you do." Eric said, his words echoing in the empty hall, giving them a hollow, dead ring. "I won't tolerate another offense." For a second, she wasn't sure what he was talking about, but one glance at the spider-thing that now sat among them was enough to remind her. Eric was likely mad that they'd come so close to escaping, which still wasn't very close at all.

No one responded. There was really nothing to say to those words. They sent a chill arcing through her veins.

August opened the door. Clarity could feel herself being held down, as if by an invisible hand. Clara got up, and walked towards the door stiffly, like a puppet. Her unnatural movements were caused by none other than their friend-turned-enemy; August.

When Clara was securely in August's grip, the door was slammed and Clara was led down the hall. Eric left with one last pointed glare into the cell.

Clarity dreaded what would happen next. Clara wasn't like the rest of them. She wasn't an alien or a mutant. She didn't have special abilities to help her fight. She was just a human with a very small amount of experience with fighting from their time battling the Organization.

Maybe not enough experience.

The thought sent another chill racing into her blood.

The doors to the coliseum opened with their familiar cacophony, and Clarity slowly rose to look through the barred window. She silently pleaded that Clara's opponent would be a fair match. Someone weak- or at the very least someone with an ability that Clara could easily counteract.

But her hopes and prayers were crushed quite thoroughly as soon as the guy stepped through the opposing door.

He was tall and it seemed that every inch of him was covered in a thick layer of corded muscle. His huge arms were covered in tattoos, more ink than skin still showing. He seemed pretty normal, except for the blade-like spikes protruding from his back, elbows, and knees. They glinted an ivory-white under the lights in the coliseum, looking for all the world like jagged peaks of broken bone. His head was buzzed, with more tattoos showing under the close-trimmed hair.

As soon as he spotted Clara, he was running.

Clara was just able to jump out of the way as the big man charged. He hit the closed door where she'd just been standing with a loud clang.

Clara took off running while the man was still stunned. Her shorter legs covered the distance much shorter than the big man had been able to run it, but she had reached the opposite wall before he was standing again.

The big man seemed dizzy as he took the first couple steps, shaking his head and stumbling. But he recovered quickly. He whirled around and found Clara, cowering at the edge of the room.

His approach was slow this time; slow and calculated. He never let his dark eyes stray from Clara's small form, pressed against the dirty metal.

Time moved at half-speed as the man reached his prey, hoisting her a good three feet into the air by the front of her shirt.