Hey, everyone! I'ts been a while. Life has kept me busy and I haven't had time to write. But thanks to Spring Break, I was able to get back to Lover Reawaken. Hope you gues like these new chapters.
Chapter One
Los Angeles, California
The air horn interrupted the music in the club. Hearing the signal loud and clear, people ran straight for the fenced off pit in the middle of the building, cheering and shouting for the dog fight to begin. Connected to the pit was a holding cage, containing the contenders for tonight's opening entertainment. When the horn blew a second time, the gate was raised for the two to enter the rind.
Abandyn casually walked into the pit as his opponent ran around the edges, firing up the crowd for the show. Wearing nothing but training shorts, tattoos inked over his hands, running up his arms and continuing all over his chest and back. His shorts covered a tiny portion of the art, the rest traveling further down his legs and ending at his ankles. One design circled his neck, a piece breaking off and crawling up along the left side of his face, curling around his left eye. As his opponent revolved over to their side of the pit, Abandyn spotted the giant black dog tattoo over the male's left pectoral reaching to his stomach.
The same massive tattoo was inking on Abandyn's right arm.
A third blow from the horn signaled for the fight to begin.
The males ran straight for the middle and clashed. Fists and teeth used as weapons, the two attacked like the dogs they were, ripping and tearing into flesh for the amusement of the crowd. There was no up or down in the ring, only the other male trying to find a weakness and destroy it before the tide turned. With their bodies beating up against the other, Abandyn backed up a bit and tackled his opponent, sinking his fangs in the male's shoulder. The opposing male howled in pain, loosing his hold and allowing Abandyn to throw him against the metal fence. Pinning his challenger in place, Abandyn punched and clawed at the body like the mad dog he was.
Orange sparks exploded from the circular fence, electrocuting the male and whoever had their fingers laced around the links. While the spectators laughed from the sudden charge, the wounded male screamed in agony and knocked Abandyn next to him. As the male escaped, Abandyn's skin burned from the electricity. Not feeling a thing, he pushed himself from the burning metal and attacked the male from behind. They both fell to the concrete floor, blood flying as the two went for the throat.
They rolled back and forth, fighting to see who would end up on top when his opponent managed to break free from Abandyn. Jumping to his feet, the male bared his teeth and circled as Abandyn got back to his feet. As if on some silent command, they hunched over like animals preparing to clash and collided against one another. Clawing and biting whatever he could get, Abandyn grabbed a fistful of hair and smashed the male's face against his knee. He then jumped on the male's back and started tearing away at the flesh with his bare fingers. When the male tried to knock Abandyn off, he went for the flaying arms and twisted them to the bone. The male cried out from his now broken limbs and the teeth and fingers ripping his skin like it was nothing but paper.
A cattle prod was shoved against Abandyn's face.
Not feeling the charge but seeing it touch his body, Abandyn hopped off the male's back and charged at the hand holding the prod. Another one stuck him in the shoulder, urging him away from the wounded competitor who lost the fight. Once he was at a respectable distance, he roared in the cage and those who betted on him cheered in victory. As for the one who ended on the receiving end, he laid on his side in a defensive position, flinching every time his arms twitched or from the slightest breeze traveling over his back.
The gate reopened, an order for the winner to enter the cage. Doing as instructed and waiting for the gate to slam shut behind him, another gate leading to the locker room slid open and Abandyn entered the lit room. Listening to the heavy metal fall into place and the music resuming in preparation for the next fight, the first thing Abandyn did was head for the cleanup area to assess his damage.
Since their world referred to those like Abandyn as dogs, the locker room was comprised with a bunch of mutts.
Finding an available sink between two females, Abandyn fitted himself in the middle and looked at his reflection. Two bright blue eyes mixed with dull orange blots stared at him, the odd color a sad side effect of the drug he'd been forced under permanent for the who world to see, just like those in the room with him. Hair shaved in a fauxhawk style, red hair ran down his head in a neat line, ending at the base of his skull and five long braids tied together. Ears pierced with stud earrings, Abandyn's eyebrows, both nostrils, bottom lip and tongue sported the same jewelry. The only piece of accessory that didn't mirror the other was the single bell dangling from a chain on his left ear.
Past the blood, bruises, and the new burn mark on his face and shoulder, it was the hidden scars under his tattoos that always caught his attention. One tattoo in particular was the one encircling his left eye. After being trained and fighting in the ring for two years for his master, one male who sharpened his nails for matches went for Abandyn's face and almost took his eye. Abandyn's master wanted to pluck it out, but reconsidered when Abandyn killed his opponent, saving his damaged eye and giving the spectators a show they never forgot. Now a tattoo of thorn vines hiding four claw marks and a left eye he could hardly see out of, it was the bell constantly reminding Abandyn to check his left side wherever he was.
He quietly asked one of the females how serious his injuries were, the half breed giving him a hand while the sympath continued to braid her hair out of her face. Dogs who managed to live to the end of their contracts and who walked away ended on the streets, doing whatever it took to make a life for themselves. The key to their survival was to seek out the residing dogs in the sectors and ask them for help.
Starting as a stray and tricked into a temporary contract, the first thing Abandyn did once breaking free from his leash was move to the eastern sector of L.A. and started familiarizing himself with the locals. The female helping him no doubt knew who he was, doing a thorough inspection on his back.
Reporting little damage, Abandyn thanked her and hightailed it to one of the showerheads, blasting water on his rough skin. There wasn't any steam coming out, informing him it was cold water. Not caring whether it was warm or cold, he ditched the shorts and held himself up against the cracked wall as the water washed over his body. With him fully naked, Abandyn caught sight of the tattoo connecting from his waist to his legs. Devils, skulls, monsters, and fire colored his skin, hiding the torture he suffered for thirty years at the hand of his master.
Abandyn never volunteered for the dog tattoo.
Losing time under the water, he eventually left his spot for another to take and went over to his locker to start changing. Unlocking and swinging the door open, his clothes dangled on the small hook, the top shelf holding the keys o his apartment, a wallet with twenty-nine dollars in it, an outdated flip phone, and a back of cigarettes with a light on top. Slipping into his pants and noticing how they sagged around his waist, he shook his head and tossed on the shirt. With his financial budget and recently let-go from his job, money was tight. Being a dog made things especially difficult to find a job since that was the first thing employers asked.
Stuffing his pack and lighter in his pockets and dumping the rest in his worn jacket, Abandyn slammed the locker when a male approached him with an envelope in hand. Abandyn took a seat on the bench and patted to the spot next to him, his way of telling the male with his money to leave the payment there. When nothing happened, he glanced up with one foot in the boot and the other half in.
"You almost put that dog in the hospital, and you only made five hundred," the male told him.
"Yeah, I know," Abandyn answered with an accent. Nearly all the dogs had a Spanish accent since their masters tormented their pets with the foreign language. Maybe there was a time when Abandyn knew the Old Language, but that time was long gone. He either spoke English or Spanish, more of the ladder when he was tired or irritated. And this male was treading on the ladder.
"That's dirt cheap for someone with your skills."
Abandyn snatched the envelope. "It's all I could get," he growled, tightening his boot.
The male failed to receive the message, leaning closer to Abandyn as if he forgot the dog in front of him hadn't been close to killing another. "There are fights that pay more. Way more. You'll have to kill, though. But the minimum payment is at least ten grand. If you want, I can—"
Abandyn surged to his feet and snapped near the male's throat, teeth bared and a menacing growl for all to hear. "Deberías irte. Ahora."
You should leave. Now.
Stumbling back, the male held up his hands like he was fending off a wild beast, apologizing in his retreat. Abandyn continued to growl at the male until he was gone. Watching those doors close, he glanced around, noticing the vampires, sympaths, and half breeds watching him with little interest. He ended their gazes by taking his pity money and storming out of the locker room.
Keeping to the edge of the club and finding the exit, Abandyn stepped outside into the alley and kicked the door shut. The club was at the edge of northern L.A. practically dancing on the border of the north and east sector. As long as Abandyn didn't have to go south to make spare cash, he would fight in the other three sectors any day. And now with the five hundred in his pocket, he was in dire need of blood.
Since dematerializing was considered cowardice in L.A., Abandyn began his long walk towards downtown. Venturing further into the territory, it didn't take long for him to be in the heart of the thriving city. Humans walked down the sidewalks without a second glace, too busy getting home for the night or heading out for some fun. Cars passed by, illuminating those on the streets as they continued on to their destination. Abandyn spotted a few citizens of the sector tending to their establishments, halting every now and then to watch him as he passed.
One happened to have the same dog tattoo as him. Abandyn kept his envy to himself and continued his path, putting distance between him and the male who managed to secure a nice job while his boss tossed him to the streets to make room for a new guy.
Eventually he stood in front of a building tucked behind a washeteria. The entrance was in an alley, a neon sign the only indicator of its presence. He approached the door and knocked once, waiting in the dark when a buzzing sound signaled that the door was open. Inside was a tiny lobby with two sitting chairs and a front desk tended by an older female, perhaps the owner of the building. Cigarette in hand and pen in the other, she glanced up from her accounting book to see who had entered. Her eyes automatically locked onto the dog tattoo before traveling up to Abandyn's red hair. She brought the cigarette to her lips and inhaled, releasing the smoke through her nose.
"I'll take whatever you have."
He placed the envelope on the counter. The female dragged it over with her pen while taking another drag. Pulling out the five hundred bills, she nodded as if satisfied and tapped one of the many buzzers lined up in front of her. She then pointed to one of the chairs and went back to dealing with her accounts. Abandyn took a seat and waited no longer than three minutes when a door opened from the wall next to him. he rose and entered the hidden hall, watching as a female with long black hair and wearing only a necklace with a circle on the north tip of a cross locked the door and guided him to one of the rooms.
Locking the two in a pleasure room instead of a sitting room, Abandyn stayed by the door as the female lounged over the giant bed, waving for him to join her. He just stared at the female, one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other palming the lighter in the other. "I only paid five," he told her.
"You were given a discount," she replied. When Abandyn didn't join her, she flipped over on to her back, running her hands over her breasts and stopping between her legs.
"¿Porqué es eso?"
Why is that?
The female laughed as if he said something funny. "¿Eres un perro hambriento, verdad? Tomar el comida mientras es fresco."
You're a hungry dog, are not you? Take the food while it is fresh.
As if agreeing with her words, Abandyn quickly stripped and was on the bed in seconds. With this establishment familiar with dogs, the female reached over for the nightstand and opened the drawer, removing a condom. Dogs didn't like spreading their seed with strangers, so they were careful when it came to sex.
Abandyn was extremely careful.
Removing the condom from the packet and rolling it over his cock, Abandyn grabbed the female and flipped her back over onto her stomach. She automatically raised her hips and rubbed her ass against him, demanding for him to enter her. The only way how he knew he was too rough was when he struck the female's throat and she jerked from his bite. Easing his hold just a bit, Abandyn began to swallow what she offered while thrusting into her, relaxing some more as he heard the female moan.
With each thrust and lick of blood, Abandyn closed his eyes as he body went through the motions. In the darkness, his mind wandered through the abyss, floating with nothing holding him down. And with each losing moment in that darkness, he couldn't help but wonder who he once was before waking up in the dark, body broken and chains holding him in that cramped cell. And in that very darkness, his master named him Abandyn and forced him into the life of a dog.
Those like him would never be seen as civilians. Bred or plucked from the streets, the masters made sure to mark their pets with the dog tattoo something their world would never miss. They were ranked so low in society, the poorest vampire held more status than them. Those who were number one were the four vampires who ran the city, splitting it into four sectors. They were known as the Four Horsemen, each member bearing the name of a Horseman, and the original owners of the dogs in the city.
One master tricked Abandyn when he stepped foot in Los Angeles thirty-five years ago. Deceived him into a contract which resulted in him becoming a dog for thirty years instead of ten. As for the remaining five years of his known life, he did whatever it took so he wouldn't find himself crawling to a masters' doorstep. Taking any job that would hire him or fighting in the ring scraps of change, Abandyn constantly feared he would wake up to find himself back in that lightless room, unable to move in the tiny cage, a tight collar rubbing away his skin and too tight to breathe, the short chain leash barely giving him room to raise his head.
He feared his master would be standing on the other side of the cage, calling him by the name he gave Abandyn after stealing the one he'd been born to. Stealing his real name and the memories of who he used to be.