**AN: Once again, thank you to CoppertopJ for pre-reading, and editing, and for making chapter collages for Facebook. I also need to thank JA Mash for making me an awesome story banner. Thank you both so much.
And I want to say thank you to everyone who read and reviewed chapter 1. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the response this story has gotten so far, and I sure hope I don't disappoint you moving forward. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
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Chapter 2 – Haunted
That encounter in the basement haunted me. The brief glimpse of that glowing eye behind the bars was irrevocably burned into my retinas. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it. Every time I would shut off a light, that image would invade the darkness. Despite knowing deep down it was real, my father insisted it had been nothing more than a bad dream, and I had no choice but to believe him.
The last thing I remembered was dropping my flashlight as I screamed, and then everything went black. Sometime later, I awoke in my bed to the sight of my father's worried face as he hovered over me. He claimed it was my fever, messing with my mind. The fever that, unknown to Dad, I had only feigned to get out of school that day, but he refused to listen or believe me.
It has been five years since the incident that spurred that terrifying so-called nightmare, and I had never even considered going back down there. Some things were better left alone, and the last thing I wanted was for my father to think I was crazy. Perhaps ignorance really was bliss - at least, that's what I told myself.
It was just a horrible dream.
Ever since then, when I'd hear the humming, I mentally chanted that it was just the wind. Or the pipes. Or the electricity buzzing through the wires. There had to be a rational explanation, because I wasn't crazy, and my father wasn't a liar…or perhaps both of those statements weren't entirely accurate.
It was just a dream. That was the only explanation I could live with, so that was the one I accepted.
However, at seventeen years old, it was so much harder to ignore some of the things I was able to as a twelve year old. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to pretend to believe everything my father said and did.
"Where have you been?" I questioned him one morning. I had woken up a little early and thought it would be nice to make him breakfast. However, with the food plated and cooling on the table, Dad was a no show. I went up to his room, but it was empty. The entire house seemed empty. The rooms, bathrooms, sitting rooms, all empty. I would have assumed he had left somewhere, but his car was still sitting in the driveway.
The clock ticked on, but it wasn't until ten minutes before my usual wake-up time that my father finally appeared.
"I-uh… Wow, did you make breakfast?" he asked, clearly trying to dodge my question.
"Yeah, a half hour ago. Where have you been? I looked all over for you."
"I was just outside…jogging," he lied horribly. When I raised a brow of disbelief, he played dumb. "What? I'm trying to get in shape. I ain't getting any younger."
I scowled at him, but just shook my head. Short of calling him a liar to his face, I had no other choice but to accept his lame excuse.
But my fearful questioning had been dormant long enough, and now my curiosity was regaining strength. My father was hiding something, and I was determined to discover the truth, once and for all.
So, for the next few nights, I spied on him. Each night he would leave the moment he thought I was sleeping. He would sneak out the back door, disappear somewhere into the night, and not return until dawn. On the third night of my stealthy surveillance, I was fully prepared, and quietly followed him.
I had no idea what to expect, but what I did see completely baffled me. Around the far side of the property, there was what looked like a dirt road that I had never noticed before. It was pretty well hidden amongst the foliage that surrounded the grounds, but it was clearly far from abandoned.
Big rig after big rig, car after car, there was a long line of traffic leading straight to the back of the manor. Each vehicle parked in an area off to the side that looked like it had been cleared a while ago.
"What the hell?" I mumbled to myself.
I snuck over to where all the extremely well dressed people were exiting their vehicles, and did my best to blend in amongst the crowd. I honestly didn't think I would get very far since they were all dressed to the nines, while I was wearing my holey jeans and hoodie, but surprisingly, no one cared or even took notice of me or my attire.
I followed everyone toward what looked like a storm shelter, hidden by brush and trees near the base of the back of the manor. With the rickety looking door wide open, a large group of us filed in, and then we narrowed ourselves into a smaller line that led down a set of fairly modern looking concrete steps. At the bottom of the steps, there was a hall, and at the end of the hall, there was a door that I quickly discovered was an elevator.
I had to wait amongst the fancy mass, while a few groups filled the elevator to capacity before me. As I waited, I listened to the strange chatter of the people there. They were speaking in all different languages, but everyone seemed strangely enthusiastic. The mood around me was eager and excited, which only confused me even more.
When it was finally my turn to go into the elevator, I could feel my heart racing so fast that I wondered if it was going to break free from my chest. The obnoxiously loud laughter of the lady standing next to me didn't help matters.
God, I sure hope this isn't some nasty kinky sex cult, – I thought to myself.
I could feel the elevator descending at a rapid pace, and it went far. It must have been several stories down before it finally came to a stop. We exited into another long hall, but this one was well lit and surprisingly wide. It was cold like you would expect an underground cave to be, which would explain all the fancy fur coats many of the people around me were wearing.
We walked a ways before I noticed a set of oversized double doors in front of us. Once we walked through, I was even more flabbergasted to see what looked like an underground stadium, with a large cage in the middle.
I looked around wide eyed, and tried to figure out what the hell I was seeing. My dad occasionally watched UFC cage fights on TV, but the cage in the middle of this arena looked four times that size. It was utterly astounding to me that all of this literally existed below my home. It just didn't make any sense whatsoever.
It took a little time, but eventually the stadium seats filled up, so I hesitantly sat in the closest vacant chair. I had no idea what I was there to witness, but somehow I knew it was going to change absolutely everything I thought I ever knew.
I scanned the large room, and spotted my father in the distance. He was sitting in what could only be described as the box seats. He too was impeccably dressed, which was odd enough considering that my dad's idea of dressy was his black jeans and grey button down flannel. He was quickly joined by four other men, all of which donned Abe Lincoln style top hats.
"What is going on, dad?" I whispered to myself.
The lights flickered, and people cheered as everyone settled into their seats.
A man, wearing a white coat tuxedo, suddenly appeared in the ring, and everyone instantly quieted.
"Thank you all for being here today. Without further ado, let the games begin," he announced. There was no microphone or amplifier in sight. It seemed everyone knew he wasn't going to be loud, which explained the synchronized hush the moment he appeared, but it also made the entire thing that much more unnerving.
The man left the cage just as swiftly as he had entered it, but from a far corner of the room, two other men approached, pushing what looked like a smaller cage between them. Inside that cage, was what I assumed was an animal of some sort, but as they drew closer to the larger cage, it became clear that the figure inside was actually a shirtless man curled in a crouched position. My mouth fell agape.
"What the hell?" I whispered under my breath.
Half a dozen men, wearing what looked like security uniforms, encircled the large cage. Each held a staff that, if my eyes weren't deceiving me, looked to be electrified at the ends. And then another small group brought out one more cage from the opposite side of the stadium. This cage held another half-naked man, but the crowd around me Ooo'd and Aww'd at sight of this particular one.
Once he was locked into the bigger cage with the other man, I narrowed my eyes, trying to see if he was a famous fighter or if there was some other reason the crowd would be so excited to see him, but despite looking vaguely familiar, I couldn't quite place him.
Then the oddest thing happened when that man, the one everyone cheered for, turned his head and looked directly at me. The light must have hit his eyes just right, because they almost appeared to be glowing, reminiscent of the subjects in old Polaroids. His reflective golden gaze pierced right through me, and it shot straight to the very core of my soul. It felt like I was locked in his stare for hours, as if suddenly I found myself lost in some complicated labyrinth of indecipherable thoughts and emotions. A thousand years could have passed and I wouldn't have known the difference. While transfixed on him, I forgot where I was, and why I had even gone there in the first place.
Despite how it felt, I knew our transfixed line of sight really could have only lasted a moment, but when he released his hold on me, I helplessly remained completely fixated on him. The way he moved, the shape of his torso, and those eerie eyes, dredged up an old, but far from forgotten memory, which was now violently clawing it's way to the forefront of my mind…
A dark musty basement dungeon…
A golden glowing eye.
Like a reoccurring nightmare that continued to haunt you even when your eyes were open, that man was far too familiar, and suddenly my curiosity turned into outright fear.
I wanted to look away. Actually, what I wanted to do was to run back to my bedroom and squeeze my eyes shut until I convinced myself it was all just another horrible nightmare. I felt nauseous, I honestly had no idea why I felt that way.
I could only conclude we were all there to witness some weird illegal cage fight, but then why was it terrifying me to that degree? Every hair on my body stood straight up, as if I subconsciously knew there was something far more sinister going on than an normal fight.
Was I scared of the man with the glowing eyes, or scared for him? I couldn't be sure.
Suddenly there was a loud buzzing sound that filled the entire arena. It could only be described as the sound of electricity from a broken wire, but much stronger, and much louder.
But then the buzzing was abruptly drowned out by the deafening sound of a horn. It was so loud it made me jump, and my nerves spiked to an all time high.
The two caged men started circling each other, and then the first one attacked. Both were quickly covered with sweat, spit, and blood. It was viscous and animalistic, as if we were watching two wild lions fighting to the death. My heart was racing as I watched the fight with far more interest and emotions than I ever would have predicted. I was legitimately concerned by the outcome, which only baffled me all the more.
Blow after blow, the man with the glowing eyes seemed to dominate the other one, but then there was an abrupt rumble that shook the ground and vibrated up every wall. In the blink of an eye, the other man seemingly exploded out of his skin, and standing in his place, was a giant wolf-beast.
My heart leapt into my throat, and I reflexively screamed.
Unfortunately for me, that shrill scream of terrifying shock caught the attention of several people around me, and before I even had a chance to react, I was grabbed from behind, and dragged out of the arena…
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***AN: What do you think? I'm sure you can kind of see where this story is going now. Still interested? Let me know. Thanks for reading!