"Well, look who it is, everyone. It's the chosen one!"
I winced as Dylan's voice cut sharply through the air. It'd been three days since my bout with Goliath, and everyone had gathered again in the mess hall for the last match of the preliminary stages. Usually, Maddison, Felicia, and I would wait until the hall was maxed out with people. Then, with the help of some friends who provided cover, Felicia would detach a portion of the tiled wall, revealing a cave-like opening large enough for a person to crawl through. The hole led to a series of tunnels that connected to other openings all over the arena. No one knew how they originated, or who must've dug them, but they presented an opportunity to the devilishly creative minds of both Maddison and Felicia. In the meantime, however, they served as a getaway route—the three of us would use a specific tunnel that led to an exit several feet above the arena. Once there, we'd crawl out to a narrow ledge, gingerly perch on it, and observe the fight below from a bird's-eye view.
But today was different.
Yes, we planned to utilise the tunnels again, but for a different reason. A few weeks back, I was horrified to learn that Maddison had been mapping out the tunnels. As part of our weekly routine, we'd been divided into groups, tasked with making sure the mess hall wasn't like its name suggested. While my intense training sessions meant there were times I couldn't participate, my friends utilized their hour-long shift well. Felicia and five other inmates would tidy the hall and cover for Maddison, while the latter would slip through the wall and begin her exploration.
And this, surprisingly, went on for a month without suspicion.
When Maddison finally broke the news to me, my bewilderment was overshadowed by her childlike excitement. The thought of freedom radiated from her being, and we soon became infected with it. The three of us began drafting plans—well, mostly Felicia and Maddison, to be honest—to our great escape, drawing simulations in our minds. A couple more weeks later, it was finally time to put the plans to work.
But first, we needed a distraction.
My nose flared as Dylan pushed through the crowd, heading towards us. He was a big man, though not any larger than Felicia. His short, spiky blonde hair moved above the sea of people like a shark's dorsal fin, and when he shoved away the last person closest to us, his amused expression came into view.
"Now, ain't you a bag of surprises?" He said as his blue-green eyes swept me from head to toe. If I weren't already choking with anxiety, I would've scowled at him.
"Careful, now," Felicia started calmly with a steady gaze. "This is a neutral ground. You're no longer in your zone."
I liked to imagine that the holding cells beneath the arena were constructed in a circular manner. On one side stretched the female holding cells, while the men were kept in the opposite wing. Right in between the two sets of cells was the large mess hall—the common room for all prisoners alike. The neutral ground, as Felicia called it. I'd heard enough about Dylan to know that he ran the men's wing like a tyrant. Being the big, traditionally infuriating bully he was, all the men recognized him as the "alpha of the Pit". His notoriety commanded more fear and hatred than respect, but no one could dare face off against him. The very few that did served as gruesome reminders to the rest.
Luckily, I'd never had a run-in with Dylan. Mostly because I was usually languishing in the women's side of the Pit, and since Felicia was seen as the female alpha in these parts, she made sure no trouble got to me. It didn't guarantee a peril-free life, though, as Dylan was known for disrespecting boundaries. Just like he was doing now.
"At ease, Felicia," he growled with a smirk, his eyes still fixed on me. "I'm not here for trouble. It's just curiosity, that's all."
"Curiosity?" Maddison asked with folded arms. As Dylan raised an eyebrow and cracked his unpleasant smile, I zoned out. My eyes immediately began to scan past the sea of gray uniforms surrounding me, focusing on the edges of the room where the guards were stationed. They were in their usual attire—navy blue silk uniforms that were fashioned like the baggy clothes worn by monks in ancient monasteries. At least, that was how Maddison put it. What had always baffled me was how they had no weapons attached to their person. One would imagine that the security personnel of such a dangerous facility would be loaded with weaponry of all kinds. Instead, all I'd seen were strange knuckle rings on both hands of each guard. It made me wonder how they were able to keep the prisoners in check. Even my friends had no direct answer to that.
I snapped out of my reverie and tried to focus. Dylan was drawing attention to himself with his loud, boastful nature. But that wasn't enough. If we were to slip out of here unnoticed, such a ruckus would have to be raised that would drag the guards out of their positions. Only then would we get the break we needed.
I sighed with trepidation as I realized what I had to do.
Dylan was in the process of explaining how his generosity and politeness were wearing thin when I interrupted him curtly. "Oh, shut up."
The hall went so quiet that my racing heartbeat was the only sound that filled my ears. I took a quivering breath and glanced up at Dylan. If looks could kill, I would've burned to ashes at his feet. His eyes were illuminated with anger, his face seemed red enough to burst, and even his dark moustache stood out like hairs on the back of a cat ready to pounce.
"What was that?" He asked in a quiet, but threatening tone.
At first, my mouth was sealed shut. Fear wouldn't let me speak. But when I realized how quiet my friends were, I saw myself in a fix that only I could handle. Besides, they viewed me differently now. Everyone did. The Goliath slayer surely could stand up to a rip-off bully, couldn't she?
There was only one way to find out.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to look at Dylan with more confidence. I was still shaking within, but that couldn't be helped. The show had to go on.
"You talk too much for a guy who's scared to fight in the Pit," I replied. I was unsure if my voice was steady at all, but I started not to care. One way or the other, the fool was going to get a piece of my mind.
"Careful, now," he drawled. "I'll understand if you're still on an adrenaline high from your amazing victory. But talking like that might just get you ripped from limb to limb."
"Oh?" To my surprise, I emitted a small chuckle. "The last person to threaten me like that was Goliath. Do I need to remind you how that turned out?"
At this point, a few people who stood close to Dylan took a step back. A hushed murmur swept over the room. I could almost see Dylan lose control over his people. And that gave me renewed morale.
I faced the other men behind him. "This coward only has power over you because you gave him. Otherwise, I don't see how a mere sheep like him has vicious wolves under his control."
I turned back to Dylan. His expression had softened into something more somber. More… fearful. Good, I thought. With a low growl escaping my throat, I took a step forward. "He doesn't deserve to lead even the most wayward of men," I continued, raising my voice an octave. "So until he proves himself worthy, he should experience what the rest of you are capable of firsthand. Don't you agree?"
The murmurs and whispers grew slightly louder. Then, as if possessed, the men began to gather round Dylan, baring their fangs and snarling menacingly. Dylan, on the other hand, had his wild look reinstated as he stood with his arms slightly spread, like he was ready to take on hundreds of men at once.
"You chose to listen to her?" He barked at no one in particular. Then his eyes flashed as he drew out his claws. "Fine, then. It's all your funerals."
They didn't even give him a fighting chance—every man in the hall lunged at Dylan simultaneously.
Amid the pandemonium, someone grabbed my arm and shook me violently. "Pea! Snap out of it!"
"What?" I blinked repeatedly as reality dawned on me.
"Your eyes," Maddison replied with a worried frown. "They were glowing again. And you just commanded a mass assault on Dylan. How?"
Horror injected ice in my veins as realization hit me. I couldn't explain it, but I knew I felt a presence—the same one that invigorated me in the battle against Goliath—just moments ago. All I wanted to do was create a distraction. Instead, I'd successfully instigated a full-blown mutiny.
The guards didn't take long to respond, either. All six of them moved towards the center of the room, where Dylan was surprisingly fending off a large crowd. I noticed the knuckle rings on their hands emitting a fiery glow. Before we could see why that was, someone else grabbed both Maddison and me firmly from behind.
"We can talk about what happened later," Felicia whispered urgently. "Meanwhile, could I interest you ladies in getting the hell out of here?" Immediately, we all turned and began to squeeze past the gathering of women behind us. We got to the designated spot on the wall quickly, where Felicia had already ripped the tiled section off. Maddison crawled in first, and I followed after. Felicia had to make sure her most trusted followers stood at the entrance and sealed it after she'd gotten inside.
Minutes later, the muffled sounds of violence behind us got farther away as we crept deeper into the darkness. Maddison knew the route better than the rest of us, so all we did was follow. While I pondered on the fact that I was gaining new abilities while losing control over myself, the tunnels ahead began to narrow. What I hadn't realized then was a new fear of mine that was about to be unlocked. And it was something that was capable of jeopardizing the entire mission.