Chapter 3
6 years after Gol D. Roger's execution
One moment of nothing, simply too much and too complex input for me to handle, and in the very next moment my world was covered with a solid layer of pain.
Literally blinded by the agony, I didn't even register the reason for it for a while, until slowly my addled brain started to paint a picture.
The handle of the dagger was pushed back into my chest by the collision with such force, that I was left wheezing in a daze, a much-needed breath had been driven out of me in a single explosive rush, that left me unable to even cry out.
I tried to concentrate, to form a coherent thought, to silently beg for everything to just go away, but even that was out of my reach, for my head felt like it was cracked like an egg. The notion was only reinforced by something wet and warm running down my forehead, which threatened to mix with pitiful tears and snot.
First droplets of lucidity formed, and I started to grow conscious of my position, namely cowering on the massive chest of the beast, that threatened to kill me only seconds earlier.
My head, just underneath the closed maw of the Fish-man; I must have hit my head on his shin when I had barreled into him like a fleshy cannonball, with force, that somehow lifted him clean of his feet.
Unbelievably, my hands were still clutching the dagger like a lifeline, which was buried up to its hilt in bony and blue rips. Upon this realization, a single, almost feral thought wormed its way past the pain to the forefront of my mind.
A thought, that made me tighten the grip on the handle even further…and pull.
Just to stab it into the chest of the beast underneath me for a second time.
And a third time
Senses dulled by pain, I only dimly felt something warm cover my chest, but I simply didn't care. About to stab a fourth time I was brutally ripped out of my daze by the voice of the boy, who made me a…murderer?
"That was AWESOME!" He exclaimed, beyond exhilarated by the apparently surprising turn of events.
"Did you see that, Mjosgard?" I couldn't help but stare blankly through the balustrade of the gallery high above and watch that boy skip around in front of his older compatriot.
"Laskey!" Charlos suddenly stopped his gleeful jubilation just to shout directly into the face of the man standing directly behind him.
The man, black suit and sharp face, bowed with practiced deference and waited patiently for his young master to speak his mind.
"Tell me," He went on uncomfortably loud even from my position, "what did my pet just do?"
"It resembled a technique called Soru, it's part of a set of skills typically only thought to high-ranking Marines and promising Cipher Pol agents like me." He answered in a manner, that sounded to me suitably submissive while being straight to the point.
'Agent? Is he some kind of guard?'
"You can do it, too?" Charlos asked with mounting excitement, seemingly trying to confirm what the man just said. The boy was disgustingly chipper, and for a second, I was reminded with an anguished bang of my little siblings when they set their minds on an idea, they thought was pure genius.
Still crouching on the motionless Fish-man, I was equally afraid of drawing their attention and of the idea, that had been blooming in the twisted mind of the cruel little boy.
"Mjosgard," the pudgy boy turned to his friend, not even waiting for his guard to reply. Eyes and voice alight just at the thought of the bloodshed to come. "You have Fish-man, too…," suddenly he gasped mid-sentence and crowed at his own genius. "And Pirates!"
Content to be the sole talker of this whole episode Saint Charlos went on.
"Laskey will teach my pet more of his tricks and then it will fight what we throw at it."
"We have to make sure the opponents are right," Mjosgard interjected and I scowled, were they all the same? Apparently, he was taken by the idea as well, but it seemed he had a cruel sense of reason.
"We can't have it fight something too strong otherwise the fun is over." He explained.
"You are right…" There was a short silence, two 'gods' and their guard on the gallery and me on a dead Fish-man, until, "Laskey!" again the boy, Fred the barkeeper would have called him fat little cunt, shouted obnoxiously loud into the face of the man right there.
"We are going to select a couple of opponents, and you will judge what will be an exciting match."
7 years after Gol D. Roger's execution
Panting in exhaustion and sweat drenching my grey jumpsuit my eyes tracked the shape at the very edge of the arena. The very same arena where I became a murderer.
Sleep in a cell, fight and train in this cavernous room. My existence was reduced to sleeping and fighting for the entertainment of two cruel boys.
"Go get him!" The green-haired Mjosgard, who by now was just as invested and excited as his young friend Charlos, shouted from the gallery at his fighter.
Carefully balancing on the metal pole, that was just big enough for one foot and almost completely submerged in water, which filled the arena for today's fight, I had to split my focus again on the fin sticking out of the water and the next pole in jumping distance.
Sure enough, driven by feral hunger and the command of his bloodthirsty master, the fin began to slowly disappear into the water and out of sight.
I swallowed whatever nervousness was there and counted the seconds in my head, eyes now directly on the next pole.
I couldn't just go the second the Fish-man disappeared from sight otherwise he would simply track my jump and attack me there, while I wasted valuable energy.
No, I had to make it commit to the position I was, and then escape, create some distance again between me and the beast with webbed hands and razor-sharp teeth.
Even if endurance wasn't on my side, time was, because slowly but surely water was draining out of the room. By now the bulky Fish-man struggled to submerge completely in the shallow water and it was only going to get worse for him, soon I would be able to go on the attack.
Very soon, but now….JUMP!
A tiny dark spot in the water couple of feet away, that I noticed from the corner of my eye was more than enough for me to react.
Right leg straining from the jump with out run-up I held my breath as I sailed through the air. Despite hearing the enormous splash behind me, my eyes were glued to the top of the next pole.
Senses going haywire when my left foot touched the tiny platform I dangerously wobbled for a heartbeat and my arms flailed in a desperate attempt to find my balance as quickly as possible. Always conscious of the predator in my vicinity.
"YES!" Focused on my equilibrium I almost got a heart attack when my owner shouted at the top of his lungs. "Good boy!"
Panting, I was struggling, I needed to end this.
Eyes scanning the room the second I had my balance I was quick to spot the fin circling the room again. He was close to the wall, but more and more he ventured into the middle, doing rounds around various poles.
My eyes widened when the fin was coming my way at an almost lazy pace just to gently turn away with some distance left between us. Thinking it was going to resume its wider circles again my blood pressure spiked dangerously when it suddenly turned sharply around and shot towards me…just to abort and drift away.
'Is he goading me?'
Blinking furiously as a drop of sweat found its way into my eye, I was growing more and more aware of the fact, that I might not survive long enough for time to be on my side.
A lucky shot! That's all I could hope for at this point.
I squinted.
There, just ahead of the fin, the back of the Fish-man's head was beginning to break the surface of the slowly but steadily decreasing water.
The feeling of the dagger, that had been useless so far, in its sheath at my lower back was becoming increasingly tantalizing, it was almost begging to be used, which is why it's no wonder how it found its way into my waiting hand without much hesitation soon after.
'How to reach…' My thought process paused almost on its own, I knew the how. Could I, was the question.
To run on air, I swallowed, I hesitated, I knew how, but I was not even close to mastering it, let alone attempting it.
My eyes tracked my opponent by now out of habit, ready at a moment's notice, but my gaze suddenly focused on something else. Something, that let my mind wander.
Tiny little waves rippled through the water as the fin parted the surface. The water, its motions, the way it moved and parted around the metal poles.
Like air.
I judged the distance between me and him. Just a single step and I would reach him, be able to drive my dagger into his skull.
Lungs filling with air and excitement, the strain in my legs momentarily forgotten or pushed to the back of my mind, that had been set ablaze by an idea followed by hope and a plan all in the span of a couple of heartbeats.
Eyes wide, heart hammering, and a single tingle down my back, then...
'GO!'