A/N: So I'll still be taking opinions on the whole Riven/Talon thing. I'm not very decided yet. Please tell me what you think!

Chapter 4: Crimson

Akali's POV

I feel the tether detach before I see it fall limply to the ground. Immediately we all rise into combat stances, but our movements are unsure. Many of us feel naked without our weapons—I see Garen clenching his fists as if his blanched knuckles could transform into a sword and Ashe reaching back for an arrow and finding only the concrete wall.

As I orient myself, there is a sharp pain in my neck. My vision pools momentarily; it is then that I realize the collar is still around me. Only the chain connecting it to the wall has unfastened. Furthermore, I realize the sharp pain was that of a needle. An injection.

One by one, we fall limply to our knees. I test my legs, but they are unresponsive and work no better than a pile of jelly despite attempting the few healing Ki spells I remember Shen teaching me. If only there were another of the Kinkou here, maybe then escape would be possible…

My eyes trail to the masked man across from me. My enemy. I cannot ask for help from my enemy. To do so would be weakness. Dishonor. And if nothing else, I am not weak. He himself taught me that.

'Welcome, champions.'

The voice is fuzzed and unnatural. Chills creep up my arms, and I notice for the first time that my armored armbands are missing, as is my mask.

"Who are you?" Jayce's demand breaks the dull silence. "Reveal yourself."

'Well, now, that would spoil the fun wouldn't it?'

Next to me, Talon's eyes are narrowed into glittering slits and he shifts uncomfortably into a crouching position. I do the same, gritting my teeth and ignoring the pain that slithers up my body. I can feel eyes on me, but I resist looking up.

'Let's just say that I am among you. Not right now, of course. But certainly on the rift.'

A horrible screech of laughter rings through the room. The intercom system here is obviously lacking. A few of my fellow occupants whisper—or, in Jayce's case, loudly mutter—names of champions that frequent the rift; I hear Singed, Swain, Elise, Dr. Mundo, Jinx… I frown. Minus the nine of us here, there are 109 of our fellow champions. Even if we managed to guess the face behind the voice—and it would be nothing more than a guess—how would that help us escape our current predicament? No, there must be another way.

'Please, do stop the chattering. I much prefer your full attention.'

The room falls back into an uncomfortable silence.

'Now, you might be wondering why you're here.'

"No shit," Jayce grumbles warily. The voice pauses and for a moment I am afraid—not for myself, but for the outspoken Piltover inventor.

'I'd tell you myself, but I do like some fun. And this will be very fun. For me of course, not for you.'

My stomach clenches and I wobble against my will, spilling my body onto the ground with a hard thud. The pain does not sting as much as the humiliation.

"Are you okay?" Ashe whispers sympathetically.

I nod shortly, bitterly. It is not her I am angry at, it is myself. Everyone is looking towards me now, mostly with concerned stares like Ashe. Except for his, of course. His is just hard and observant, a predator's gaze. And I am left feeling like prey.

'Please, please, take a seat.'

The voice is tinged with amusement. My cheeks color as I pull myself back up, leaning dejectedly against the wall.

'How are you feeling, Akali?'

I do not reply. I do not owe him the satisfaction of one.

'You know, I have kept my eye on you for quite a while.'

Annoyance ripples through me at the presumptuous words. Quite a while? As if. No one knows of my real past, not even Shen. No one, except for him and me. Our secret, right?

Our secret…forever.

'In fact, I think I know you very well. Very, very well. More so than you would think, butterfly.'

I freeze; there is only one person who called me that. And that person is dead. I had killed him myself. With my own hands, forever stained crimson.

Crimson fists, crimson shadows.

It cannot be.

Katarina's POV

I hear something in the distance about butterflies and Akali, but all I can think about is my displeasure. It really is quite annoying, this situation. It would be much better if I had my daggers, perhaps a nice sharp blade or two. But no, the smarmy bastard had to remove them. I try not to think about his hands on me, extracting my knives from my belt and boots. Ugh.

Or perhaps it's not a guy; perhaps it's a girl. Not that any of the girls are much better. A few of them I could swear are lesbians. My mind trails to Vi, the queen of dykes. Hell, it probably is her. Bet she'd get a real kick of tying Caitlyn up, that's for sure.

But whatever. Guy, girl, crocodile, unicorn, sushi roll… I don't discriminate. Whoever it is that's locked us up in here will pay.

"Vengeance is a dish best served cold with a side of your victim's corpse," as my eloquent father would put it. His advice has always worked well for me; I plan to use it here, as always.

Even more annoying than being held in this cage by some sadistic bastard who's probably getting off on this right now is being held in this cage by some sadistic bastard who's probably getting off on this right now with Garen next to me. I mean sure, I claim to hate all Demacians equally but shit, this guy takes the cake. King of the self-righteous assholes, complete with a mop of boring brown hair and sappy eyes.

Give me a break.

'Earth to Katarina.'

I look up, not bothering to disguise my revolt at the sound of my voice on our captor's slimy lips. "Yes?"

'You look so bored, dear. Am I boring you?'

I snort. "You could say that."

'You're breaking my heart,' the voice simpers.

My lips curl back in disgust. "Good."

'Rebellious children must be punished. Why don't we play a game?'

"With you? Thanks, but I'll pass."

'Of course not, dear. In fact, I'll assign you a playing partner, how about that?'

Is this guy for real? It occurs to me that my hands are tightened into fists. I look at them now and wonder how they would feel squeezed around this guy's throat. "Excuse me?"

'The rules are simple, dear. A simple fistfight. The first to draw blood wins. He or she will be duly rewarded with a random food, clothing, or weapon. As for the loser, well… Don't lose.'

My ears perk up at this. I have not lost a first blood duel since I was ten and lost to Talon; ever since, I have won without fail. And I am hungry. Sustenance is key to victory and strength. "Alright. Who is my opponent?" I survey the room. I have no doubt I would destroy Ashe, Jayce, and Caitlyn. They are weak and reliant on their weapons, with no combat skills of note. Akali as well is not much of a problem. Tryndamere relies too much on brute strength, and I am confident in my agility and defense.

That leaves Talon, Zed, and Garen.

'Well, there is really only one choice, is there not? I do so love some drama, competition, excitement.'

I sigh impatiently. "Enlighten me."

'Let's see who is stronger, shall me? The Might of Demacia or the Sinister Blade?'

A/N: Ok, so next chapter for sure will have some Garen vs Kat action. At this point she still hates him; in fact, she seems to hate pretty much everyone (she even thinks of Nami as a sushi roll, poor Nami D:). But hey, character development right? Yes, please.

To be honest, I don't know who creepy voice captor guy is any more than you guys do, so I'm kinda writing him in the typical gentleman bad guy style. inb4 gentleman cho'gath! Just kidding, Cho's too busy at the buffet to deal with any of this experimenting bullshit ahahaha.

Any and all opinions welcome! Reviews and kind words even more welcome! Please help boost my self-esteem guys I love you! -insert shameless begging for reviews here-