iv.
That night, after dinner, Kyle sat on his bunk, looking out onto the empty tier. In the cell next to him, he heard the breathy sound of a man either fucking or getting his cock sucked. He lay down and tried not to think about what would happen if Tyrone won the fight tonight. Kyle would belong to the man who won the duel. Tyrone's words came back to Kyle with the frightening clarity of coming doom -
if you was my bitch I would of raped your virgin ass already and made you scream real loud.
JT walked into their cell and picked up a black bag.
"Come on boy," JT said, looking at Kyle. "Game time."
Kyle jumped down from his bunk, looking up at JT, puzzled.
"We can't leave the cell," Kyle said. "It's almost lights out."
JT took his hand. "You're with me now. Come on. Let's go."
Kyle followed JT past guards who acted like they were both invisible. One guard nodded to JT and asked him how he was doing. No one tried to stop them.
They left the tier, went down old stone steps that smelled of sweat and urine, past the first floor. Kyle counted two flights below the first floor before a big, black iron door blocked their way.
"Where are we?" Kyle said, looking around in the darkness.
"Old part of the prison," JT said, slipping a key from his pocket.
He slid the skeleton key into the ancient looking lock and the door opened with a soft creak that spoke of well oiled hinges. The corridor beyond lay in pitch black darkness.
Kyle hung back, looking into the darkness. JT pulled a powerful flashlight from his black bag and took Kyle's hand again. On the other side, JT locked the big door. Now they stood in near total darkness, except for the narrow beam of the flashlight. The only sound was their breathing and Kyle's wildly beating heart.
"Where are we going JT?"
"You'll see boy."
JT led Kyle through dark corridors, past closed doors, deeper into the musty scent of disuse, until finally, they heard the low murmur of voices up ahead.
They turned a corner and Kyle saw a giant cell that stood in the middle of a stone floor. Hurricane lanterns hung from top of the cell on iron hooks, casting a shifting yellow glow all around. No one was inside the cell yet. Men crowded around the cell made way for JT and Kyle. Calvin and Terence waited near the cell door.
A blond man who looked as big as one of the original Vikings, came up to JT and clapped him on the back hard enough to send another man sprawling.
"You show him what's what JT. He's made trouble for all of us."
"He won't make no more trouble after tonight, Sven," JT said quietly.
"Good," the blond man said, and walked off, trailing a slender blonde man behind him.
"You ready?" Calvin said, taking JT's bag.
"Yeah," JT said. "Take care of my bitch. Keep him close."
"Don't worry," Calvin said.
JT took the short handled knife Calvin handed him from the black bag, then he slid his t-shirt over his head. His body rippled with solid muscle in the flickering light.
Calvin pulled Kyle back as JT opened the door to the giant cell and stepped inside.
"Where's Tyrone?" Kyle said.
"He'll be here," Calvin said.
Terence walked through the crowd of men and stood on the other side of Kyle.
"You stay close to us boy, hear?" Calvin said.
Kyle nodded, looking into the cell. Men clung to the outside of the bars, making a living wall around JT. He stood in the center of the cell, holding his knife. The crowd buzzed with excitement.
"Where's the guards?" Kyle said. "It isn't like this on TV."
Terence and Calvin both laughed. "Those games are for show boy. This is the real thing."
Silence went through the crowd in a wave, and a path cleared to let Tyrone through. Two men came were with him. He took off his black t-shirt, staring across the crowd at Kyle. He took a curved knife from the man on his left, then slowly, so that every man there saw what he did, Tyrone blew Kyle a kiss.
Kyle looked at JT standing in the middle of the cell. He'd seen what Tyrone did, but his face showed no sign of anger. The only sign that showed the fury Kyle knew JT must be feeling was a slight tension that made his sculpted muscles stand out even more in the flickering golden light.
Tyrone walked into the cell, followed by the blonde Viking that Kyle had seen earlier. When all three men were in the cell, silence fell.
"Tonight is a dark game," the Viking said in a strong voice that echoed down the dark halls, "to settle a duel between gladiators. The man who frees himself with this key, wins."
The Viking held up a large, black skeleton key. He walked out of the large cell, locked the door with the key, and hung the key beside the lock where it would be easily reached by a man standing on the other side of the bars.
JT and Tyrone circled each other in a low crouch. Both held their knives easily. They were nearly matched in size and strength. JT was only about an inch taller than Tyrone. But he was lithe with hard muscle and graceful on his feet.
Tyrone didn't move with the same grace and ease as JT. Fear made his movements jittery. His eyes flicked behind JT, distracted by noises from the crowd. JT's eyes never left Tyrone. His face was impassive, smooth, as if he were spectator with nothing to win or lose.
When JT struck, no one, including Tyrone, expected it. JT's knife came in under Tyrone's extended arm in a rapid swipe. Tyrone jumped back and twisted away, but not before JT's knife left a light flesh wound. The crowd hooted and hollered, cheering them on, yelling the names of both men.
"Next time I catch your bitch alone, I'll fuck him real hard," Tyrone said in a low hiss that JT heard despite the noise of the crowd.
JT ignored Tyrone's words, concentrating on finding weaknesses in Tyrone's defense. Words were for amateurs. JT's knife did all the talking in a fight.
JT came in for another strike, letting Tyrone think he was going for his right flank, but at the last moment, JT twisted back and his knife cut through the tender flesh of Tyrone's belly again. Another flesh wound that stung like hell, but did little harm. The crowd yelled out, calling for more blood. The watching men shook the bars, making an eerie metallic fury that echoed in the darkness.
Tyrone was an amateur. He won in the games because he was matched with men who were stupider than he was. JT won because he knew how to get to a man's weakness. Tyrone's weakness was his bad temper. JT played to Tyrone's weakness, inflicting light, harmless flesh wounds with his razor sharp knife. The crowd hissed and roared with every light wound JT left on Tyrone.
Kyle stood between Calvin and Terence. He grabbed the bars with white knuckles, his face pressed between them, watching JT and Tyrone with unblinking attention. Watching JT's muscles flex and move in the shadowy light made Kyle remember how he'd felt last night and this morning on his knees between JT's legs. Seeing the way JT moved, like a warrior in battle, and knowing that JT was fighting over him, gave Kyle a raging hard on that throbbed and ached in his jeans. Kyle wanted JT. He ached to suck JT's cock and hear him groan in pleasure as he shot hot come down his throat and called him his bitch over and over. The two men circled each other in a slow dance. Tyrone struck out at JT, but JT easily dodged his clumsy swipes. JT weaved back and forth, and from side to side, raking his knife through the air, leaving flesh wounds that stung, but caused no damage. Soon, the constant badgering from JT's knife and the jeering cries of the men in the audience drove Tyrone to do exactly what JT wanted.
Tyrone lost his temper. He came charging at JT with a loud cry, his knife held high, his eyes wild with rage. JT let him come, then side stepped at the last second, tripping up Tyrone, letting his own weight carry him to the floor. JT was on him in an instant, his strong arm wrapped around Tyrone's throat in a deadly embrace.
Tyrone sputtered and cursed, thrashing wildly, but JT rode his bucking back like a sailor on a stormy sea. The men in the audience went wild, cheering JT on. But when JT showed no signs of letting go of Tyrone's neck to let him breathe, a silent hush fell over the watching men.
In the silence that fell, JT bent low and whispered into Tyrone's ear, "I ever catch you near my bitch again, I'll kill you."
He gave one last squeeze, pushing Tyrone into unconsciousness, then he let him go. Before he got up, JT used his knife to carve his initials just above Tyrone's right shoulder blade. Tyrone would have to someone carve them out or burn the skin to erase it, unless Tyrone wanted to become someone's bitch.
JT wiped his knife on his pants, and went to the cell door, where the key hung waiting for him outside the bars.
Behind JT Tyrone rose to his feet, like a man rising from a drugged sleep. His eyes focused blearily on JT, and he came after him, gaining speed with all the grace of a charging bull.
JT whirled to face him, his knife up, ready to carve into Tyrone for real this time.
"You wanna die tonight?" JT said quietly.
Tyrone looked around at the shadowy square, seeking a friendly face. Finding none, he looked back at JT. Tyrone held up both hands in a gesture of surrender and dropped his knife at JT's feet.
"I didn't think so," JT said, and deliberately turned his back on Tyrone. He'd already decided that if Tyrone came at him again, he'd kill him. No more talk.
Tyrone decided to live and JT reached through the bars and got the key that unlocked the cell. Calvin and Terence met him outside the door. They tried to hold Kyle back, but JT signaled to them to let him go. Kyle ran to JT, running his hands quickly over his sweaty body.
"Are you ok?" Kyle said.
"Yeah boy," JT said. "Fucking punk didn't lay a finger on me."
Behind them Tyrone slammed through the open door and made his way through the crowd without a backward glance at JT.
"What about him?" Calvin said, looking at Tyrone's retreating back. "You want us to do anything?"
JT shook his head. "No. Not unless he fucks with us."
