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Chapter 43

It was the same process. Sam spoke. The guards grabbed her and pulled her from her cell. She struggled a little but not enough to get free. Scott fought to try and keep her there, taking her by the waist and pulling her away but he got his arm broken instead. Melanie looked back at him through helpless eyes then disappeared down the dim and dank hallway.

The walk to the fighting ring was long. Melanie's feet dragged along the concrete with each deadened step. Her big toe ached from an ingrown toenail biting through her skin. She lost her shoes days ago. It had grown too difficult to swing up a good kick with her feet cramped and confined. Her skin was spattered with ripe, brown blood and smudged with dirt.

They shoved her into the ring. She stumbled to her knees. The crowd was chanting again. She wobbled to the side a little as she stood. She searched the floor. There wasn't a weapon like the other times she was forced into a fighting match. Her heart thumped tiredly. She struggled not to fall over. Her surrounding were unfocused from not having her glasses. This allowed her not to be distracted from the whole 'fight to the death'. She was wishing for a distraction now. Anything was better than getting beaten to the point of numbness.

Melanie grunted as she was thrown against the chain link fence suddenly. The metal scraped across her back as she landed on the mat. Blood dripped from her lower lip. Her arms pulsed with sharp stabbing pains down to her fingertips. It was sprained and if she wasn't careful, it would break.

Her opponent stared down at her laughing low and gravelly. He came out of nowhere. Melanie coughed and wiped her mouth.

"You're the girl everyone is afraid of? You're so puny. A child."

I could do it, Melanie thought. I could let him finish me off. It would all stop. Her chest heaved in and out like she'd run a 5k. Every breath hurt her ribs like a bruise that was fading. She was pretty sure one of them was cracked. Her right eye was swollen again. The brand on her shoulder was infected. It throbbed dully through to her shoulder blade. There wasn't much fight left in her.

Melanie yelled out as the giant yanked her up by her hair. Strands ripped free of their hold on her scalp.

"This is your champion!?" he bellowed. Melanie was lifted higher until she was on her knees. The crowd quieted for the first time. "She's a human girl! Weak! Vulnerable! Dying!"

He pulled her back. His lips nearly touched her ear as he muttered coarsely.

"The girl who was raised by wolves…smh."

He dropped her.

Melanie landed on her hands and knees with a dense thud, whimpering. Through her sweaty hair, she looked at her hands. Her nails had been broken and were jagged. The one on her middle finger had been ripped clean off. It was just starting to grow back. The soft, pink epidermis was beginning to harden.

A sudden howl from the crowd made her jump. Her head shot up. The crowd roared with excitement. Melanie's eyes followed the crowd, searching for the one who had made their presence known. The crowd shifted as somebody pushed through them like a shark through the water. She only caught glimpses of bits and pieces. Flannel. Short, dark hair.

"It can't be," Melanie breathed.

Bursting through the front row, Stiles stopped at the edge of the cage. He rattled the cage, enraged as if it would bend to his weak will.

"Hang on, Melanie!" he called out.

The crowd began to chant once more like they did for almost every match that she was in. Her limbs shook as she tried to stand. She received a kick to stomach, tossing her back across the ring and knocking the air out of her lungs once more.

"Melanie!" Stiles hollered, shaking the chain link wall some more.

The giant stomped toward her. He was dirty as if having just gotten done rolling around in the dirt. His shirt was torn and stained with dirt tracks and his thin, stringy hair hung in his face. His foot swung at her again. She caught his boot and pushed it away. She steadied herself on her hands and knees and then stood up. The tall, muscular man stared at her as she held her side, hunched over.

"Hey, dick!" she yelled, clenching her fists.

He smirked at her. His heavy steps tramped toward her. She smirked to herself. No giving up today. The cavalry was here; a reason to fight.

The giant swung at her. She ducked, landing in a split on the mat then punched him in the groin. He yowled loudly and stumbled back a few steps.

"Am I too much for you, big boy?" she said coyly, getting back up to her feet. Her chin tickled as blood dripped down and off it.

He growled, spit flying from his mouth. He charged at her again, his eyes glimmering with raging hate in the fluorescent light. He bared his teeth, the many rows of them.

"Holy shit," Melanie breathed. She watched him, struck in horrified awe. "You're a Wendigo."

"Do I hear disgust?" he hissed. He grinned toothily, showing his various layers of teeth. "What are you?"

"I—" Melanie paused, her fist unclenching for a moment. She wasn't sure about the question. She'd never heard it before. "It's like you said, I'm just a girl."

"Hmph! I eat things like you for a snack." He gave a look of dismay. "Not that there seems to be much meat on you."

The wendigo charged at her, crushing her with his shoulder. She grasped him, trying to push him away as he tried to bite her. Her fingers pressed into the oily skin of his face, her pinky pressing into his eyes and her middle finger up his nostril. She gagged as she used all of her remaining strength to fend him off. She shoved hard, her muscles burning, and made him stumbled a step.

"Isaac!" She heard Stiles yell.

Melanie blocked a punch, but couldn't avoid the one that followed. She fell to the floor. Her body gave up, collapsing in a heap. The chain link fence rattled and clinked.

"Get away from her!"

Melanie tried to lift her head, but only managed to lift it an inch or so before it fell back to the floor. The crowd roared, egging on the fight. The lights overhead were blinding starbursts through Melanie's watery eyes. The floor thundered underneath her then suddenly she was being picked up out of her own small pond of blood. Her cheek throbbed.

"It's okay." The words were coarse, barely above a whisper. He repeated himself. "It's okay."

It was him. The deep scent of the woods flooded her nostrils making her head dizzy. She wasn't succumbing to hallucinations. Isaac was actually here. They all were. Though she couldn't see any of them, she could hear the urgency in their voices perfectly clear. It felt nice to be saved this time.

"Isaac!" Stiles again. "Isaac, we have to get out of here! Cora and Allison have Chris. Derek's looking for Scott."

"Not so fast."

The hold on her legs and arms tightened, making her whimper, and she was pulled in against Isaac's chest protectively.

"Don't." came a low growl. Melanie sucked in a deep breath. She choked, coughing up blood.

Melanie blinked and let her head fall to the side. She saw Scott on the other side of the ring.

"Scott!" Stiles hollered.

Melanie held onto Isaac's shoulder, clenching a fistful of his shirt at seeing Scott. The wendigo was back on his feet. Scott and the mongrel traded blows. Scott ended up on his knees, trying to push back the his fist. His forehead broke a sweat, and the last bit of his strength was dwindling.

"Scott," Melanie croaked.

"Scott!" Stiles yelled.

"Scott!" Allison's voice cried out from somewhere in the riotous crowd. People were fighting to get out and fighting with each other.

Melanie saw Scott's eyes flash their vibrant yellow as he stared up at the vicious thing. For a split second he looked past him and at Melanie. She gasped and looked up at Isaac who was frozen. His face drained of color. Around the edges of Scott's irises there was a tint of red. The deep color slowly enveloped the gold until it was all that was left.

Scott rose to his knees, the wendigo's fist still in his firm grasp. The tall beast stared down at him, shocked and suddenly nervous. He swung his free hand down on Scott. Scott caught his other fist that came swinging at him then flung him backward.

"If you know what's good for you, stay down," Scott said as he came to stand over him.

Melanie sucked in short breaths, unsure if it was hyperventilation or fear behind it. She tried to think of anything that would slow it back to normal but nothing worked. Not knowing that Isaac was here or knowing that this wretched nightmare was finally over. Nothing. Each breath grew shorter than the last and black spots started appearing everywhere.

"Melanie?" Isaac looked down at her. "Stay awake. You have to stay awake."

Her eyes fluttered as she tried to hold onto his soothing voice. The black spots seeped over the rest of her vision leaving her in darkness with the feeling of falling.

Melanie stirred, cringing as an eruption of agonizing pain washed through her entire body. She groaned, opening her eyes.

"Take it easy. You're in the hospital."

Her eyes shot open, instantly blurring with tears from the sound of that voice. Isaac sat down on her bedside. She sniffled and looked around the room. The pastel painting on the wall was the ugliest, yet happiest thing she'd seen. A half smile broke over her busted lips. This wasn't a dream. The cotton of the sheets scratched over her toes.

"You're hurt pretty badly," he said.

She stared up at him. Her voice was lodged in her throat, but that was okay. Looking at him was enough. He took her hand. Her middle finger was in a metal cast with tape wrapped around it to keep it on. She jumped at feeling his touch.

"I didn't have a choice," she wept. "He made me."

"Shhhh," Isaac hushed her, rubbing small circles into the back of her hand. "You need to rest."

"Where's Scott and Chris? Are they okay?"

"Chris is in the other room. Allison is with him. He has a few broken ribs, a fractured arm and broken nose. Scott disappeared among the riot. Stiles has been trying to call him."

Melanie flung the covers back and swung her feet over the edge. Her right foot was wrapped up. Isaac caught her before she could set one foot on the cold linoleum and put her back in bed. She looked up at him outraged. Her eyebrows pressed together tightly.

"You are in no condition to walk," he told her.

He laid down beside her and put his arm across her waist, keeping her from trying again. He chuckled when she tried then looked over at Derek who came to her other side.

"Focus on getting better," Derek said.

"I can't." Melanie struggled some more, grunting as Isaac refused to relinquish his gentle hold. "We have to find the darach now."

The grave tone in her voice was unmistakable. Her eyes still held panic. She came out of the fighting ring, but there was still danger.

"You're safe," Derek assured her.

"No, I'm not. Nobody's safe," she said. She shuttered out a breath.

She shook her head furiously.

"Don't worry. We're still looking for the darach. Nobody else has-"

"Derek, we ended up in that pit because she put us in there. It was a distraction." Melanie's eye welled up.

"She? It's a woman?" Derek asked.

"I swear on it," she gritted out angrily.

"There's something else." All three heads spun to face Stiles who stood in the doorway. His phone was clenched tightly in his palm. "Melissa just told me that the ER doctor on duty tonight never showed. She's been waiting him so that he can get you into x-ray. Also, Deaton is missing."

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