Page 49 of The Labyrinth

“Listen, Rissa. These people, they’re here to be entertained. They don’t care if you live or die, as long as they get a good show. But you’re here tolive. Play it smart, and don’t get caught up in the emotions of the Cage.” With that last bit of advice, he pushed me toward the now open door. I tripped through, catching myself before I landed flat on my face and the crowd laughed. I understood what Griffin meant now. The crowd was almost like a third person, the people acting as one brain, overwhelming your senses with their lust for blood.

The door slammed shut behind me, and a disembodied voice boomed an announcement. “This is a fight to the death. The round will begin when the countdown ends. May the best man win.”

The voice began to count down from ten, and the crowd joined in. My heart raced, ricocheting through my chest. Across the cage, Melinda looked at ease, completely calm in her surroundings.Seven. Meanwhile I tried to take everything in. The shovel to my left was a good weapon to keep Melinda back, but I would quickly tire wielding it. The hammer would be a good ally, but it was closer to Melinda than to me. Ten’s words came back to me. I needed to tire her out. Let her chase me around for a bit.Five. Wear her down, and then maybe I would be able to gain the advantage. I didn’t want Melinda getting near the scythe, or the shovel—anything with length. I needed to keep my distance.Three. My brain was on overdrive.

I just needed to stay away from her long enough to survive.

One. A buzzer sounded, a line directly to my heart. Melinda jumped forward. I waited half a second to see which way she moved before I darted to the right. I didn’t want to be completely on the defensive, but right now I had no choice. I had to stay away. I sprinted to the other side of the cage, ignoring all the weapons. I didn’t have time to stop and pick one up right now. I needed to evaluate.

Melinda stopped, hands on her hips as we watched each other. “You’re an awfully pretty pet.” She took a step forward, and I took one to the side. “Awful shame that’s all you are to him. A pet. A plaything for him to use and dispose of when he gets tired of you.”

She was trying to get to me, trying to break me down mentally. I couldn’t let her. “Don’t talk about things you know nothing about. Maybe, just don’t talk at all,” I hissed. I jumped to the other side of the cage, grabbing the wire to steady myself. Whatever the Cage was made out of was strong, and had very little give to it. But right now, I was tired of talking. I needed Melinda to do more running if I ever wanted to be on the offensive.

I darted across the cage, and she followed. And again. I wondered how long I’d have to do this before she began to tire. She definitely wasn’t as quick as I was, nor as light on her feet. She was probably used to winning from sheer size, and most people in the cage probably didn’t care if they lived or died. I cared. I wanted to live. And I wasn’t letting Melinda kill me. “Come on pretty pet. Let’s play. The crowd is getting bored of your games. They want blood.”

She was right. The crowd’s cheers had died down to a quiet rumble, dissatisfaction filling the air. They weren’t happy with my game of keep-away. Too bad for them. I was going to play it smart. I was taking note of things, like how Melinda seemed to favor her right side, and how her left foot dragged slightly as she walked. These were weaknesses I could capitalize on.

I ran to the other side of the cage again, but this time I was caught off guard by Melinda picking up the rusty scythe. The wind whistled as she swung it, and I knew she had just gained an advantage. I was so distracted by Melinda’s new tool, I looked over my shoulder at the wrong time, and tripped over the hammer. I went down hard on my knees, and the crowd roared, certain this misstep would be my downfall. Melinda seemed to think so, too, and she dragged the scythe on the ground as she made her way over to me. I struggled to my feet, backing away just as she swung the scythe in my direction with a vicious smile. I pulled back as much as I could, but the tip of the rusty blade still caught my shirt, grazing along the flesh of my stomach.

“Fuck!” I screamed. I clutched at my stomach, my shirt already damp with blood. It was only a surface wound, but it fucking hurt. I hobbled away as fast as I could, trying to stay on top of Melinda and her scythe. Keeping away from her while she had a weapon didn’t seem to be as smart of a plan, so I needed a plan B. I gripped the frame behind me as I circled the cage, keeping my back away from Melinda. She followed me, swinging the scythe from side to side. “Pretty pet,” she sing-songed. “Such a pretty pet. I bet you bleed even more prettily. Let’s find out.”

Her words took me back to a different time, a different pain. Ten’s gentle words, telling me how pretty my blood was, as he carved the inside of my leg. I had dealt with worse pain than this and turned it into pleasure, hadn’t I? I could do the same right now. I could ignore the burning in my stomach, and the ache in my ankle. I just needed to gain the advantage. If only I could climb the cage. I clung to the frame as we circled, and Melinda took another step forward.

That was it.Climb the cage. If I could get high enough, I could get on Melinda’s back. Maybe I could choke her out from there. But she wouldn’t be able to touch me. Ignoring the pain shooting through my ankle, I jogged across the cage, closer to Melinda than I had been, and the crowd cheered. This crowd was bloodthirsty, hungry for violence. I knew somewhere in there Ten was watching. But the noise and the swell of people were overwhelming, and I would’ve never been able to find him. I just had to know he was there, and that I couldn’t let him down.

Melinda’s scythe scraped along the floor. I shook the cage to make sure it would hold my weight, and then I climbed, sticking my feet and hands into the holes created by the frame. I couldn’t hear the crowd over my heart anymore. I felt rather than heard the scythe swinging through the air. But I was high enough now, and right when Melinda turned to close the distance between us, I leapt, wrapping my arms around her neck, and swinging onto her back. Melinda was so stunned by my sudden movement, she nearly dropped the scythe, staggering backward. For a moment I thought we were both going to go over and that would be the end of it. But she regained her balance, and I swung my weight so I could wrap my forearms around her neck more thoroughly.

“You fucking bitch,” she snapped, swinging her scythe wildly. “Get off my fucking back, you whore!”

I clung to her body even as my stomach burned, fresh blood pooling from my cut. I gripped my forearms the way Bear had shown me, pulling back and cutting off Melinda’s air supply the best I could. She choked and gasped, flipping her scythe backward. She landed a few piercing blows to my forearms, but she couldn’t get anything to stick unless she wanted to slice her own neck. One more wild swing sliced through my shoulder. I screamed, enough pain piercing me that I nearly lost my grip. The crowd screeched, wild with the scent of blood. I tightened my grip, and Melinda dropped her scythe, clawing at my arms with her nails.

Realizing this was taking her nowhere, she staggered us both over to the cage wall. Turning away from it, she slammed backward. The firm cage didn’t offer any leeway, and my head smashed against the hard metal. “Fuck!” I cried. My grip on her neck loosened, but Melinda realized her advantage now. She forced me backward into the cage again, my entire body shuddering with pain. Again, she smashed me into the metal. Something cracked in my side. I clung to her neck for all I was worth. I knew that if I loosened my grip, and fell off her back that would be it, and I would be done.

But as she smashed me against the cage wall again, my head bouncing off the metal with a painful shake, I realized maybe I was done either way. Maybe this was it for me. I had fought hard, and I had given it my best, but maybe it wasn’t enough. The crowd chanted, ready for her to be done with me. They already knew who had won and who had lost.I’m sorry, I thought.I’m so sorry I failed.

My vision blurred around the edges. My heart stuttered once. Twice.

But I wasn’t ready to fail. I wanted to live. I took a deep breath in, preparing myself for the blow that would shake me off her back entirely. She didn’t have her scythe anymore, but she wouldn’t need it to kill me once I fell off.

I wasn’t done living. I wasn’t done seeing all life had to offer, because I knew it had to be more than what I had seen. I wasn’t fuckingdone. I ignored every bit of pain radiating through my body, and with a wild cry, I turned feral, leaning forward before Melinda could smash me into the cage again. Using every bit of strength I possessed, I sunk my teeth into her neck, and ripped out as much flesh as I could.

I caught something. I knew as soon as my teeth went into it. There was so much blood everywhere, spilling and spluttering from Melinda’s flesh. It filled my mouth, a thick iron taste that made me want to retch. But I couldn’t think about that now. Melinda sank to her knees with a keening cry, more animal than human.

I stumbled off her back as she clung to her neck, trying to keep body parts that shouldn’t see the light of day inside her skin. It was like she was trying to hold herself together while the blood spewed out between her fingers. I wiped my face, a sticky residue remaining. She was down on all fours, but she wasn’t done yet. If I wanted to live, I needed to finish the job. And fast.

The crowd was chanting again, this time for me. I hated it. I wanted them to stop. Just the same, I couldn’t stop the urge growing inside me, the one that demanded I claim my life, and declare it as mine. Only one thing stood in my way.Melinda.

As Melinda held herself together, I surveyed the weapons. The shovel was too far away, and the scythe lay broken underneath her. The only thing left was the hammer. I picked it up, turning back toward her. Desperation and sadness fought inside my body and soul as I watched this woman who had done so many bad things, prepare herself to die at my hand. I had done this. And despite how bad a person was, did they really deserve to die for sport? For the craze of a crowd that screamed and hollered around her? Was that a decent death for anyone?

But. It was her or me. And I wasn’t fucking done living. I lifted the hammer above my head, and looked into Melinda’s crazed eyes. She had lost so much blood I wasn’t sure she was aware of what was happening. Somehow that made it even harder.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

At the last moment, something shifted in Melinda’s eyes. Something that acknowledged acceptance and respect, an understanding that this life made us do terrible things just to survive. “It’s okay.”

The hammer swung as if it were someone else’s arm. Someone else’s body. Someone else’s mind. It had to be, because it wasn’t mine. I wasn’t here. I wasn’t watching the hammer pierce Melinda’s flesh, burying itself past bone and sinew, lodging into her brain. I didn’t see her fall, collapsing to the floor in a puddle of death and sin.

The world went blurry and black around the edges. The roar of the crowd escalated to a violent pitch until it was silent. Dark and quiet, with only the realization of what I had just done to keep me company.

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