The morning came too soon and both of them barely slept. Nate's back ached in pain, the straw having provided little comfort. They were given some gruel to eat and forced to strip and change into a set of underwear at the threat of shock-prods.
A guard hosed them down with what felt like ten gallons of water. The guard pressed a button on the hose and then started spraying some sort of oil, making them slick and glistening.
"To make you look better for the crowds." The guard smirked. "And so the beasties can smell you real good."
Ana crossed her arms, feeling pretty vulnerable in her skimpy bra and panties, covered in shining oil. Nate wasn't feeling much better, wearing just a set of boxers.
The stone walls were beginning to shake a little, vibrating, and as it worsened, Nate realized that it was the crowds beginning to enter. Was the arena built above their dungeons? Something roared in the distance. An angry beast.
"We're going to be okay." Nate told Ana, squeezing her hand.
"I know." Ana squeezed it back. "There's no way you're gonna let me die a virgin, you...you...reprobate."
Nate snorted.
Even with their false joviality, they couldn't help the nerves, the hair on the back of their necks standing up.
Finally, the guards came, marching them out, through stone corridors and up stone stairs that were wonky, too large, built in a different time. A portcullis with a metal latticed grille, through which Nate and Ana could hear more than see the buzz of the crowd. A commentator, linked into some intercom. The arena itself was oddly idyllic, composed of a water lagoon, little sandy islands with palm islands. A holo-poster made real.
"Ladies and gentlemen, rogues and roses, the time has come. Traitors and fools come to this arena to die well, and finer entertainment you have never seen. Today, we have a special surprise. Every showing, we show exotic and beautiful beasts, but today we also give you beautiful gladiators. Bring out the gladiators!"
The portcullis opened.
"Gladiators?" Nate muttered. "Are you fucking serious?"
"Get out there, dipshit." The guard kicked him in the back and forced him through the gate. They stepped out to screams and burning sun, stepping out in the shin-height water, wading through to the sands of the little islands. Nate slowly turned to survey the arena and found a fantasy made real. Shaped metal, painted with a stone effect. Arches over columns, hung with shimmering white banners, displaying an ornate 'A'. An amphitheater meant to echo the ancient buildings, but it wasn't long before the fantasy fell apart.
Drones buzzed by, delivering food and drink. Chips in the stone effect on the columns, the metal showing through. A large cube screen hanging high above them gave the spectators a better view. Someone in the crowd fell forward and was caught by a blue forcefield. The crowd booed as he was caught safely, desperate for blood. They wouldn't have to wait long.
On the lowest level, still far above the arena grounds, the dais, long enough to seat those that wouldn't want to mix with the crowds. Among them, the Matriarch on her throne — Madam Mayko.
The sun beamed down, hot on their bare skin. Apparently, the Portmaster had been lying about it always being night in the Acropolis. Ana futilely tried to tug down her panties as they rose up her ass, displaying too much cheek to the baying mob.
"Have you ever seen such fine specimens?" The announcer asked. Nate strained his eyes to see him in his commentary box, alone and protected by his own fields. "I'm hot under the collar already, but maybe that's because I've been drinking."
The crowd whistled and jeered.
"I kid of course, Matriarch. Never a drop while I'm on the job!" He coughed and paused, an inaudible wink to the audience. "On with the show! With such beautiful gladiators, we needed to match them with mighty beasts. We have eight today—" Nate tuned them out as Ana muttered to him.
"Eight?"
"Just gotta buy time for uh, what's her name?" He whispered.
"She didn't give it. Hot spy lady."
"You think she's hot too?"
"I'm not blind." She saw something over his shoulder. "Not yet at least."
Nate turned to see a black furred beast, all paws, claws and snapping jaws. For a moment, it had two heads, until the clanged together and like black oil, merged together in a gloopy mess, until they were one again.
"A symbiote." Ana breathed out.
"The Telvarus! Brought here from distant worlds and merged by the Matriarch's scientists with a parasite from the Boom! The same Boom that birthed some of the galaxy's scariest parasites!"
The Boom, Nate knew, referred to an exploding star that had caused a lot of death and made many of the galaxy's travel routes untravellable for a long time. For two months, in their barracks, they'd used packaged-food cardboard instead of toilet paper. He hated the fucking Boom.
The collared Killik came forward, prodded forth by four nervous guards with shock-prods. With each prod, the beast growled and writhed, but like Nate and Ana, it was pushed forth reluctantly into the shallow water. Its second head emerged again for a moment, and the closest guard jumped back.
Too late. The neck split, like a split tongue, allowing the second head to dart forth and chomp down. The guard was torn in two, his waist spurting up blood as his lifeless legs took a few useless steps.
"Yeesh. I guess I won't see him at the holiday party." The announcer cracked.
The beast swallowed.
So did Nate.
The man had dropped his shock-prod. Could he get to it?
"Isabelle, give me something." Nate murmured.
Working on it.
"Nate?!" Ana cried.
"We split. It can't chase us both. Use the tree, keep it between you. Don't climb it." He ordered.
"But there's only one tree." Ana protested.
"Good point." He grunted.
The chains were dropped and the guards scampered to an exit. The Killik roared, the very noise of it shaking their bones. Its head came down, eyes thinning as it noticed them.
"Isabelle!"
Symbiotes have two minds, keep it guessing. And, well...run!
The beast charged. Nate and Ana split, Ana sprinting, kicking up sand as she darted for the trees. But the beast went for Nate. He dove and rolled into the waters as the Killik snapped forward, missing him. Thankfully, the second head was still encased — it could only emerge for a few seconds at a time.
Nate came up and didn't stop, wading forth into the deeper water. He had to get to the shock-prod! It taunted him at the edge of the arena, sitting on the thin layer of golden sand that encased the lagoon.
The water slowed him down but it slowed the beast too. The collar was still too tight and it seemed to tighten the more he tried to fiddle with it.
A shock ran through him, frying his brain for a moment, the collar lighting blue. "Now, now." The announcer tutted. "No taking that off. Naughty boy!"
A growl announced the Killik had caught up to him. Nate turned.
"Easy, boy." Nate held his hands up as the beast approached, the water making it more angry.
Shock prod is still fifteen feet away, Nate.
Fuck, what weapons did he have? The only thing he had on him were his soaking wet boxers.
A memory came to mind. Boot camp, the other guys whipping each other with wet towels. Half stupid games, half hazing.
Fuck it.
He tore his boxers off and crouched. He had to get this right.
The beast lunged. He jerked back and snapped his boxers forward, right into the Killik's eye. It howled and leapt back, sniffing and snorting as it eyed him.
"Would you look at that monster?! And how about the Killik too?" The announcer collapsed into guffaws, laughing at his own joke.
Nate grimaced but he didn't have time for embarrassment. Another head emerged from the Killik, and while the first head was whining, this head was furious, snapping and growling. The heads growled at each other, arguing, buying him time.
Nate made for the shock-prod and held it up like a sword, grinning with victory. He pressed the button to get that satisfying buzz of heavy voltage.
It did nothing.
He pressed it again.
The prod is likely fingerprint activated.
Isabelle told him.
His legs are by your side, but it's unlikely his toes will work.
"You think?" Nate muttered.
He needed a new plan but he couldn't think straight, leashed by this fucking electro-collar — he had to get it off. He managed to loosen it a lot but then another sharp shock ran through him, dropping him to one knee.
"Fucking fuck!" He yelled through the pain. Seven of the green bars had turned red, seven of ten. Fuck, this wasn't even the highest setting? The highest would drop a fucking horse.
Or maybe something bigger...
"Is that all you have?" Nate yelled. "Put it up. Give me all you've got!"
The crowd roared.
"Goodness me, is the Footlong Fighter taunting our electro-shock technicians? That's not going to end well. Hold your nostrils, boys and girls, we have a barbecue on the menu."
"Nate!" Ana yelled, dutifully hiding behind the tree. "What are you doing?"
He waved her off and lay back in the deepest water, submerging himself. The cool water washed over him, clearing his mind. The beast was coming to an agreement, ready to pounce on him anew.
Distantly, he heard the announcer, like a voice in a dream. The sun beamed down, dappling the water, and all he could see were shimmering colors, the gold of the sun, the tan of the stone, the rainbow of colors of the crowd. And then the black of the beast.
The beast had to put its head into the water to eat him, and as it did, Nate threw the collar into its gaping mouth. The beast pulled back, wary of another trick, and Nate stood up like a shot, hand to his empty neck, pretending he wore the collar still. The technicians obeyed and fried the collar.
