That morning when I woke up I fund a plate of food had been slipped into my cell. The food itself looked like cooked beef but smelled of something far more foul. Approaching the food I sniffed the air, the distinct foul odor it was giving off, did little to throw me off.

"The Scavengers brought it not long ago, said it was a reward for winning yesterday." The cheetah in the cell next to mine said as he watched me eye the meat.

It made sense, and this had not been the first time I had received food for winning what was thought to be a hard battle, or for putting on an excellent show. Of course we were feed on a regular basis, usually not much to gain strength from, but enough to keep us alive. Bending down I lifted the plate before I lifted the meat and tore a piece off. Immediately the taste of the blundertail's blood flooded my mouth making me grimace in disgust, but nonetheless I swallowed the meat.

The sound of the Cheetah gagging caught my attention, and I turned to watch him. Once he got over his little fit, he look at me in disgust. "How can you eat that? It's smells so disgusting." He commented as he seemed ready to throw up.

"When you're in here long enough you don't turn down food. Any bit they give you should be eaten, any ounce of strength you can gain, is more strength than your opponent has" I replied as I finished the rest of the meat. As expected the rest of it had not been any better than the first bite, but I had managed to scarf it down so I was happy.

Returning to the place I had woken up at I began my morning routine, which consisted of some light work out intended to keep my physical strength consistent without wasting too much energy. It wasn't until I was halfway done that the Cheetah had spoken again.

"Who...who are you?" he asked, his voice shaking afraid I would take offense.

"Elvric." I replied simply. Saying nothing more on the matter.

"And...what ...w-what are you?" he asked next.

At this I ignored him, I had grown so tired of the question, tired of explaining it, tired of having to try and explain it to everyone, only to have it mean nothing as they died. I suppose he thought I hadn't heard him, after all he had whispered it in fear, because he repeated himself.

"I asked what you were." he said again, his voice louder this time. Again I ignored him, as I worked on maintaining concentration. "Don't ignore me, what are you!" Sighing I stopped in the middle of a pushup. He like so many others would not give up, always with the questions and never satisfied.

Standing I approached him, my neutral look on my face once again. As I approached I saw him grow scared. Fear lit up on his face as he slowly inched away from me. My hand shot out, however, and grabbed him by his tunic. Slowly pulling him to the bars of our cells I whispered quietly in his ear. "Survive for five rounds and I'll tell you whatever you want to know." With that I let him go before returning to my workout.

I could hear his quickened breathing and feel his eyes on me, however I had ignored it as well. This had been a little trick of mine. I had found in the past that most of the prisoners who arrived, were cowards and wouldn't normally last to five rounds in the arena, those who did, were far and few, but they happened, however in the event that they did survive to the five rounds, they would be hesitant about asking me.

"I'm Kitto." I heard him say. I paused for a moment, a little surprised. Normally after my little intimidation, my other cell mates would avoid talking to me, some even avoided looking at me, others just glared in anger and no doubt plotted my death, but he had the courage to tell me his name. I couldn't help but smile a bit.

00000

I didn't fight that day, but then of course I hadn't expected to. The Scavs never had me fight on a day they had given me extra rations. Whether it was so that I wouldn't waste it, or to try and lure me into a sense of hope only to dash it away, I wasn't sure, but that did what I could to stay in fighting shape, I did what I could with the limited amount of energy I had. Of course Kitto, looked at me as though I was insane, but I paid him no mind. Chances are he would not be here long enough to understand. Of course his courage gave me hope.

It wasn't long after I had finished my workout that the Scavs came to get Kitto. They were having him fight again today. I watched as they opened the cell door. For a moment I saw hesitation on his face, but he seemed to swallow what fear he had before he allowed the Scavs to lead him to the arena. I didn't do anything when he left. Instead I sat and saved what little energy I could. I needed to make sure that I was strong enough for my next fight.

It was maybe an hour later that Kitto, finally returned. The Scavs had to drag him back into his cell. Cuts and bruises littered his body, but nothing seemed life threatening. If it was, the Scavs would have put him on display, tied him to a pole and let the crowd watch as his life slipped away. The fact that he was back in his cell told me he was alive, if not battered. Not long after they dragged him back in did they put a plate of the same meat they had given me today.

Kitto didn't move to eat it. I thought perhaps he was simply too tired to move, but after awhile I watched as he sat up. He took one look at the meat before gagging. "If you don't eat, you'll never reach round 5 of the arena." I commented as I closed my eyes.

"I'm not going to eat that, it's disgusting!" He protested. I swear i could feel him sticking his tongue out as he said that.

"Then give it to me." I replied as I stood up and approached the bars separating our cells.

Kitto looked surprised. "You're honestly that hungry, that you'd eat that trash?!"

"I told you when I woke up. Never turn down a meal here, it may be your last." I replied watching him as he considered this. After awhile though I watched as he moved to pick the food up. Moving away from the bars I returned to my previous spot and closed my eyes as I waited for sleep to come.

In this hell hole sleep was all I could do. "So how long have you been here?" Kitto asked gaining an annoyed growl from me.

"Shut up and eat before I take your food." I snapped at him. Immediately the room fell into silence before, i could hear Kitto shuffling with the meat. After awhile I heard him take his first bite. The resulting sound of gagging and dry heaving did not surprise me. I had eating many foul things in my stay here.

I was sure he was going to throw up, and so I opened my eyes ready to take his food, so that it didn't go to waste, however I watched as he stuffed the food down his throat, the look of disgust and sickness, that covered his face would have been an amusing sight, if not for the fact that I knew that look all too well. I watched him, and was both satisfied and disappointed to find that he had eaten the whole thing.

Closing my eyes I tried to sleep, but his voice broke the silence again. "How long have you been here?"

Sighing I had to admit, he was a brave one, or he was stupid, either way it seemed his curiosity would not be satisfied. Turning to look at the ground I found the tick marks in the floor, that I had made, and as quickly as I could I counted them. "2 years, 3 months and 5 days." I said before closing my eyes again.

"How have you survived for so long?" Groaning I opened my eyes to look at him.

"By knowing when to keep my mouth shut and not ask stupid questions." I replied as I gave him a hard glare.

"...How many cellmates have you had?" Immediately my glare turned to surprise before being replaced by rage.

In a flash I was on my feet with my face pressed up against the bars of the cell, a fierce snarl on my face. I watched as he jumped from his spot and moved as far away from me as he could, he looked at me as if I was about to kill him, and in truth I wasn't far off from doing so. After awhile I finally spoke, my voice was a quiet whisper, the threat of my unbridled rage, barely contained through clenched teeth. "Never…." I began before taking a breath to steady myself "Never ask me that." Before he could reply I turned and walked back to my spot. Laying down with my back facing him, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep yet again.

He didn't say anything after that, which gave me some comfort. Closing my eyes I forced myself to clear my mind. And soon Sleep overtook me.

00000

Sitting up from the floor, covered in sweat, I looked around my cell. My heart pounded in my chest, and a sense of fear and dread that i had not felt in quite some time, began to slowly recede away back from where it had come from. Looking around I saw that night had fallen. Standing I approached the bars separating my cell from Kitto's.

The brig was naturally dark, with no windows to let in natural light it made the nights and sometimes the day, hard to navigate. The scavs, as stupid as they were, were just smart enough to know that most of their prisoners needed light to function, the exception being the moles that I saw every now and then.

Lanterns lined the walls of the brig, but currently their flames had been extinguished, making the brig nearly pitch black. Still though I couldn't make out the form of Kitto. Sighing and shaking my head, I moved away from the bars and returned to my spot.

Try as I might, though I could not bring myself to fall back to sleep. The nightmares that had woken me, left a sour taste in my mouth, that I only later identified as blood. It had taken all of my willpower simply to push the nightmare from my mind, and still it's effects were felt. I was shaken, Shaken to core, though I did not allow my body to betray such feelings, I was haunted. The memory's of all the lives I had taken in the arena, came flooding back. Some affected me less than others. The faces of animals and beasts that I had slayed, did not perturb me as much as the faces of the scavs whose faces contorted in terror as the life left their eyes.

Those were the faces that haunted my dreams, and despite my best efforts to console myself, despite my constant inner monologue, that "they would not accept mercy or show it" I still felt a bit guilty. Nothing would change that, I knew that well. I had been soaked in the blood of my enemies, so many times that I'd lost count, and it no longer disturbed me to the point that I rushed to clean myself of it as fast as I could.

Still, I felt an empty hollow space in my heart, it was a blackness that ate away at what I was, leaving what I had become to be painfully obvious. I was a killer now, I survived on the deaths of those who had been placed before me, I was a survivor, but I was also a killer, and that, that would stick with me for as long as I lived.

It was as I sat in the darkness contemplating my own life that I found myself at my most miserable. I was always miserable, but never so much than when I sat alone with my thoughts. At first I would try to do something in my cell to keep my busy, but that only served to waste my energy, which had nearly resulted in my death several times. Only by a pure stroke of luck, was it that I had come to survive those battles. Afterwords I would just sit in my cell, doing nothing, hoping beyond hope that I might escape. This proved a bad development, for I slowly began to go insane as I held on to delusions.

It wasn't until my cellmate at the time began to converse with me that I slowly returned from my madness. He'd been a mole, a simple inventor before he was forced to fight. He'd made many great weapons that allowed him to survive, and as we talked and I grew to know him, we had become friends.

I should have know though that having friends was dangerous. One day when he went to fight in the arena, he'd never came back. I knew what had happened. I'd heard the stories. He was dead. So shattered was I at his death, that I almost gave up. My enemy had me by the throat, I was ready to die, I was tired of the cruelty of the arena, of what my life had become.

And then I smashed his head in with a rock. It had happened before I even knew what I was doing. My heart was racing that day, fear gripped me like a vice, and a deep and primal part of my mind screamed at me for being foolish. During our struggle I had unconsciously grabbed a rock and hit him in the head, and before I could stop myself, I had jumped on him and brought the knife down on his head several times. I cried in fear as I beat him long after he had died. After that day, I had gotten the attention of the Scavs. They saw me as brutal and cold and callious.

At first I didn't want to give in to their words, but I soon found out I could not escape them. New cellmates came, and passed we and talked and I formed bonds of friendship with them, but they soon fell in the arena. After a while the loss of my friends became too much, I couldn't bring myself to make any more. So I stopped talking to the new cellmates.

This had been how I lived for two years, This was how much life had taken a turn for me. After a while, the brig began to grow brighter. The door to the upper deck always remained open, and it let in some of the sun's rays. Looking down at the floor I used a nail to make another tick mark. "2 years, 3 months, 6 days."

00000

A week passed, and Kitto, survived another two rounds in the arena. The first two days after I had snapped at him, he refused to talk to me, but then on the third day he apologized. After that he tried to make short conversation, however that's all it ever amounted to, short. Still furious with him over his question I kept my responses as short and simple as I could, sometimes I would just ignore his questions in general, but as he won his third round I noticed he didn't shake as much, he was still visibly shaken, but he was learning to cope with it.

After his fourth round it only took an hour for him to start talking to me. He spoke about how he was going to learn what I was, and that alone seemed to keep him going. I fought three more rounds, in the arena myself. It seemed that in the two years since my stay, the Scavs had decided to up the challenge. I faced three scavs that day, and four the next, On my third round I faced six. That had been a tough battle, and I admit I came away with a few deep cuts myself, but they weren't life threatening, and even so, the ship's medic, if he could even qualify as such, stitched the more severe cuts.

Returning to my cell I always found Kitto, waiting for me. He would ask me about my fight, and ask for tips on surviving, I mostly gave him my short and simple answers, while my advice ranged from, "don't get caught off guard." To "be faster than your opponent" While it wasn't the most helpful of tips, I never lied to him. My advice had always been solid and full of truth. If he allowed himself to be caught off guard, he'd die, and if he was faster than his opponent, then he'd be able to end the fight quickly, or get away were things to go wrong.

It came as no surprise to me however, when he didn't return from his fifth round in the arena. Sighing in what I could only describe as disappointment, another tick was made in the wooden floor. Though this one was hidden away, by a bale of hay. Despite my attempts to ignore him, Kitto had made an impact on me, in a way that had not been done in a long time. While I never thought of him as a friend, his absence would be noticed.

00000

I watched as the Scavs tried desperately to wrangle my new cellmate into her cage. I watched with a bit of fascination. In all my 2 years here I had seen many cellmates. Cheetah, mole, and Lamas who called themselves Atlawa, I'd never seen her species before, and yet as I watched her struggle and bite at the scavs, there was only one word that could come to mind.

"Dragon." I whispered in surprise and awe.

She screamed and yelled, and she fought like hell, trying to tear the scavs to shreds, but there were too many of them. Four held her by her legs, while I fifth held her tail firmly, A sixth one opened the cell door, before they all threw her in the cell. The door closed before she could even get back to her feet, though that didn't stop her from throwing herself against the bars as she tried to reach the scavs.

They only laughed before leaving. I watched as she stared after them for awhile before moving to the back of her cell. I don't know what came over me, don't know why I decided to break my rule about keeping to myself, maybe it was because i felt pity for her, maybe it was because she was the first dragon i had ever seen. Whatever the reason I spoke to her.

"You shouldn't have fought." I said as I closed my eyes and rested my head against a bale of hay. There was silence, followed by the sound of paws hitting the wooden floor, the sound of claws scraping against wood, then they stopped.

"What did you say?" She asked, her voice startling me. Not because she spoke, but rather she sounded young. Immediately I felt my chest tighten in anger. I knew the Scavs were monsters, knew that they were cruel bastards, but never had i thought that they'd go so far as to kidnap a child. What made my heart ache more was I knew she would be thrown into the arena, forced to fight for her life.

I opened my eyes to stare at her, just now taking in her appearance for the first time. Her scales were black, with the membranes of her wings being a deep crimson red, the same shade as her chest plates. Behind her I saw her tail which ended in a deadly looking blade that curved like a scythe. She was small, her face still holding traces of baby fat, and her eyes. I lingered on her eyes for a moment longer than any other part of her body. They were a deep emerald green, but they were so full of pain, and sorrow, and guilt. As I stared into her eyes I saw recognition, and I knew, we shared the same eyes.

Closing my eyes to break what trance I had fallen into I sighed as I stared at the ceiling. "You shouldn't have fought them." I repeated. "You might have gotten cleaning duty had you just kept your head down, but now you'll fight in the arena."

"I can take care of myself, I don't need you to tell me how to live my life." She responded. I heard the anger in her voice, the determination, but I also heard the sorrow as well.

"You don't have much of a life left anymore." I said, as I tried to keep myself from crying in anger. She was going to die, and her life hadn't even started yet, and it tore me up inside because I couldn't do anything to stop it. No one deserved to die young, and no one deserved this hellish existence.

"I'll escape, I don't know how but I'll escape." I scuffed at that. I'd seen escape attempts, I'd seen how bad they ended.

All the prisoners would be dragged out of our cells, forced the watch as the one who'd try to run was crucified. Wounds opened on their body and left for the crows to pick at them until they died. It was a terrible sight, but it had a message that was clear to all. There was only one way to escape this ship. Death would be our only release, be it a quick end in the arena, or a slow and painful one as we were picked clean.

"You don't want to do that either." I said, the image of her tied to a pole and picked clean making me shiver.

"And why not?" She was angry again. I didn't blame her, she was new to this place, had so much fire in her. She didn't understand that she couldn't survive this place, or maybe she did, and she fought because she was afraid of dying.

"You'll die." I stated. On the outside I looked calm, but it was a farce. My fists were clenched so tight they stung, and on the inside it was like a raging inferno, ready to spill from my very being at any moment. I had to calm it, and fast, because if I didn't I knew, I knew I was going to do something that I couldn't take back, and the consequences would be bad, not just for me, but every prisoner on this damned ship.

There was a pause, it wasn't much, but it was enough to let my anger subside. The rasp of her voice only served to remind me of how young she was, and the more she talked the angrier I became at the scavs for their cruelty. Then she spoke. This time there was no anger in her voice, only curiosity and sorrow, and for a second I felt like she understood me.

"Why have you given up hope?" It was a simple question, yet it was so much more than that, it was a question not for me, but for my soul, for the fighting spirit that lay within me, the part that only came out when I was in the arena, fighting for my life.

"Because this place crushes you. If you survive long enough you'll know what I mean." I didn't say anything more than that, and she didn't ask anything else. I listened to her footfalls as they retreated before I sighed heavily.