The Winter Howl loomed above Daimona. It shook out its mangy, yellow-white coat, revealing the series of missing patches and misshapen lumps that decorated its wide ribcage. Its pointy left ear looked like it had been chewed down to the skull, leaving behind a crusted-over wound. Puffs of green sparks escaped its crooked snout as it eyed Daimona hungrily.
Norok moved out of the way as the man in the seat next to him jumped up and screamed, “Tear out his throat, Fangs!!”
Even Norok could see this wasn’t a fight. The creature wheezed with every breath, limping around the ring as it circled Daimona. His sister mirrored the beast’s movements, her fists raised in front of her face in a guarded stance. The screams for death and execution from the audience grew at a relentless volume, to the point where Norok felt his own heart sink. The Winter Howl appeared to be unmoved by the crowd’s petition for his blood, but there was a resignation in his eyes that made Norok uneasy. Could Daimona see it too? Her mouth remained in an unflinching tight line, sizing up her prey just as she always did.
Then, Daimona rushed forward, closing the gap between herself and the Winter Howl and throwing herself atop its back. It yelped as she twisted over, flipping the creature and attempting to choke it out from underneath its flailing body. It gave a low growl before jerking up and out of her arms, rolling onto its four paws. Before it could get away, Daimona reached up and grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. Her red eyes seemed to glow as she slammed the Winter Howl’s head into the mat and commanded firmly, “Stay still!”
Norok recognized the sound of her magic weaving itself into her tone, and obediently the Winter Howl remained paralyzed on the floor as Daimona stood. She hoisted it over her shoulders with an audible grunt, parading it around the ring as the challenger before her had. The crowd cheered as she tossed the wolf and caught it, all while the creature stayed motionless under her touch. Norok winced as she spun it, averting his gaze to the side of Kell’s face beside him.
To his surprise, Kell wasn’t avoiding the spectacle. His eyes were glued to the scene, following Daimona’s every movement with a soft smile slowly curling up under his flushed cheeks. From an overpriced, lacy silver bag, he kept shoveling peanuts into his mouth as he eagerly watched Daimona’s strut.
“Didn’t think you were such a sadist,” Norok commented, jolting Kell out of his fanatic trance.
“I mean, just look at her,” Kell replied enthusiastically, pointing to Daimona. “She has everyone’s attention here. Every single person is watching her right now, it’s incredible!”
Norok groaned, elbowing Kell in the side. “She’s just showing off. It’s not that cool.”
Returning to the center of the ring, Daimona twirled the massive wolf above her head one final time before steadying herself with a deep breath. Then, with a room-shaking crack, she dropped the wolf directly onto her knee, falling onto her rear with it lying limp in her lap. Blood shot from its mouth, spraying across the ring and staining the white mat below.
“And with one rib-shattering blow, the Winter Howl is dead and buried!!” The announcer’s voice came blaring from above, followed by the bloodthirsty roars of the adoring crowd. Daimona pumped her fist in proud victory, scooting herself out from beneath the creature’s body to rally the audience.
Norok’s gaze lowered to the Winter Howl. Something about the whole encounter felt off. It was Daimona who had voiced her frustration for Fable’s corpse showboating in Linnstan. He knew that she had wanted to win Will’s approval back, but was she really willing to do it at the cost of her hunger-grown pride? That didn’t seem like the sister he knew.
And then, the right forepaw twitched. The movement was so slight, it could have been attributed to Daimona’s prancing shaking the floor, and Norok knew that if anyone else had caught it they would have written it off as such. But no one else here knew Daimona like he did, knew her in the way she exaggerated and bellowed, knew her in the way she always had to take things to the absolute extremes and never settled for less than the maximum output of her magic, her voice, her spirit. No one else knew how she often forgot that bones that break inside the body sound quieter, and so when replicating the sound, it always sounded way too loud. No one but Norok, and perhaps Kell by the way he gave a sly grin as the attendants heaved the Winter Howl’s body into a black cart and toted it away.
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Norok patted Kell on the shoulder, trying and failing to hide his look of pride. “I’m off to take a leak. Tell Mona I said she did alright.”
“Whatever,” Kell scoffed. Then, shoving his empty bag of peanuts into Norok’s hand, he said, “Grab me another bag while you’re up.”
“Ew, no, I hate the smell of nuts…”
“Then don’t smell them, just bring them,” Kell said, waiving Norok off on his way.
Once Norok had taken a tour of the facility’s restrooms-- an impressive, shiny room covered in reflective surfaces that made Norok wonder if he had mistakenly wandered into someone’s expensive collection of mirrors-- he stood in line for Kell’s stupid peanuts, plucked a bag off the counter and walked away before the boy running the counter could stop him. Now, his curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he wandered the empty halls around the arena. He walked past all of the display cases of military accolades and weathered photos of uniforms far goofier than the one he was stuck wearing. There were skulls of all types of animals, elk, tigers, bears and even a preserved dolphin tail, with brief descriptions explaining how they had been obtained. Norok saw his eyes reflected back at him in the empty sockets of a crow’s skull, a necklace of dark feathers hung just under it. He wondered if the animal countries held human displays just like this one.
A pair of voices from the far end of the hall put his macabre thoughts to a stop. On instinct, he turned the corner and slipped into a supply closet. The last thing he wanted was to be caught somewhere he wasn’t really supposed to be and earn himself more mopping hours.
As the two came closer, Norok could make out the familiar tones of Corporal Simon and Will, and snippets of their conversation slipped through the cracked door.
“...certainly has potential!” Simon said in that all-too enthusiastic tone of hers. “I believe with the right hand guiding you, you could all make perfect permanent officers here at Base Alpha.”
“The right hand being your hand?” There was Will’s skeptical reply. Norok was glad to hear his lack of interest in Simon’s offer, though it seemed odd that Will had agreed to join her alone in the first place.
“You can’t deny that I’ve got your rowdiest recruit under wraps,” Simon mused. “Imagine what we could do together, with just a little more support…”
Her voice trailed off as they continued down the hall. Once the sound of their footsteps had diminished completely, Norok poked his head out of the door. The building remained dark, lit only by the display cases adorning the walls.
Something shifted in the dark behind him. Before he could turn around, a clawed hand reached around, pinching the middle of his throat and silencing the rising cry. A cold, metal object emerged over his shoulder, and from the corner of his eye, Norok could make out molded, jagged teeth and a pointed snout, the jaw of a wolf encased in black metal. There was a hiss of steam, then a high-pitched squeak as the lower jaw dropped. A low, raspy voice growled through it, a threat whispered to Norok. “Move and I’ll make it your last.”
Every nerve in Norok’s body tensed. He stood perfectly still, breathing in shallow breaths through his nose. The claws trailed over his throat, and Norok could feel how sharp and frigid they were, how one slip alone would be enough to puncture his trachea clean.
“Good boy,” the attacker chuckled, a dry, painful noise that sounded like needles scraping on stone. “Check his pockets.”
For a moment, Norok stood there confused. Then, a second pair of small grubby hands emerged from behind, feeling his jacket and pants pockets. Norok felt smug, knowing he didn’t keep anything worthwhile in those anyway. The hands produced the bag of peanuts, rattling them in the dark.
“Jackpot,” a second voice gasped, young and effeminate. The second pair of hands disappeared with the peanuts.
“Guess that’s all you’re worth,” the metal jaw mocked, snapping shut and slowly vanishing back over Norok’s shoulder. The clawed hand retracted, then quickly shoved Norok forward and into the hall. He fell on his knees, whipping around with his right hand at the ready to send the thieves flying. But with the supply closet door flung open, Norok could see into the shallow room of shelves and brooms, nothing but boxes and walls to reflect his dumbfounded expression.
