It was starting to become routine, and with every conscious thought going through his mind did he wish that wasn't true. Almost every night, there were fights that needed to be tended too. Regardless of whether or not those matches required any of the infected; Colt still had to feed them. Or, at the very least, feed some of them. It was made very clear to him that no occupant got fed more than four times a week, sometimes three. It kept them hungry, angry, and ready to ravish anyone or any thing they were put into the pit with. It was also to keep them on the weaker-side. A fully fed infected would be impossible to contain and incredibly dangerous. There was a fine line he had too tread. There was much more to tossing blood bags into their cages and calling it a night.
Tonight was different. Tonight the matches weren't all infected versus infected, and instead more of the human variety. It turned his 'routine' a little upside down. Especially when he went to a sector of the kennels and found three bulky men there, all fighters, and clearly it was their sole occupation based on their scars that were visually apparent. Colton didn't like new people. He didn't like strangers. And above all, he didn't like being caught off guard by their presence.
As he walked in, messenger bag full of blood bags, he glanced at the three sitting on over turned crates with a make-shift table in the center of them. Table wasn't the word. It was simply a crate with a piece of splintered plywood sitting on top of it. They laughed, deep from their chests, loud and thunderous. One wasn't joyous, he hissed and yanked back a sharp knife that had just pierced his thumb. Blood ran down his hand, sending the infected caged all around them, into a frenzy.
Colton gritted his teeth, and tried to pretend they weren't there. He managed to feed two cages their meal before one of the brute yelled at him. "Hey you, you're a little fella aren't you?" the three boomed in laughter in unison. Another piped up, the one with the knife still in his hand. "You ever play five finger fillet?" Colt stared and shook his head, obviously nervous. "Oh then you must! Come'ere, take my seat." the man chuckled, standing up and offering Colt his crate to sit on. Colt just shook his head, mumbled a "No thanks." and tossed his next bag of blood into the cage in front of him.
"Kid, I don't think you understand. Take a damn seat." Colt swallowed, considering his options. Run, get caught, and get the shit kicked out of him. That about summed it up. Cautiously he moved towards them and sat down.
The fighter grinned with the few teeth he had left, "Right right, so you take the knife in your left hand, and you stab the space between you fingers. Like so-" he slammed the blade down in-between Colt's outstretched middle and index, causing his eyes to go wide. "But you gotta do it quick, and all the way, back and forth." the man showed him, going slow, then handed him the knife.
Colt took it carefully, taping the knife between his fingers with the utmost caution. "Alright, now do it faster." Colt went a little quicker, but barely. "If you can't do it faster than that, you lose kid, and you don't wanna lose." Colt tried, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, too scared of stabbing his own fingers.
The third fighter stood up and grabbed the knife out of his hand, "You lose!" he reached, grabbing Colt's arm, lifted the tattered long-sleeves and sliced the inside of his forearm, just beneath the inner bend of the elbow. It wasn't a deep cut, but blood welled up quickly and it stung like hell. Colt let a sharp cry and pressed his hand immediately to his arm. He jumped up and ran out of the room, leaving his bag, and the three men cackling. "What a pussy." he heard one mumble before he went out the doors towards the public display of the fight was.
Outside the door he stopped and pressed his back to the wall. He pulled back his hand from the wound and winced, pulling down the long sleeve again to try and cover it; he reapplied the pressure, crossing his arms, so it wasn't so obvious.
He stood there for a long moment, catching his breath and hoping if he stalled long enough the fighters would leave and he could finish his chores. He glanced at the fight taking place, watching it, but there was a definite disconnect, as he 'drifted into space'. The voice that suddenly came from his side startled him back to the land of the living. He blinked and stared at the guy standing next to him now, the question he asked not fulling sinking in immediately. After a second of thought he responded "No-no. Do you?"
In hindsight you should have said yes. He tucked his arm in further, pressing into the wound and gritted beneath his jaw. Shortly after, he hears the men in the room behind him, their laughter carrying past the door a little. "Hey kid, come back, we wanna play with ya little more." Colt's eyes went wide a brief second before he nervously turned towards the stranger "Actually I want to, where-- do you know where I need to go to... do that? Is it over there?" He started walking across the room towards the other side, nodding his head at the stranger to follow.
He had no money though. He'd cross that bridge when he got to it.
I Am the Sickness
Posted 10-17-2021, 05:10 PM
