I'm sorry for the long wait with this chapter, but I couldn't figure out how to write it.

Arrows: Chapter 5

Prisoner

The blonde boy wakes up on the floor of an unfamiliar cave with a pounding headache. He groans, begins to sit up and immediately stops; trying to move makes the dizzying sensation worse and the walls spin around him. Ralph tries to bring his hands to his head and finds them restrained; he frowns, trying to remember what had happened through the throbbing of his head. There's most definitely a memory of seeing the hunters appear and fighting with them, after that, it's all a black void. He has no idea how he managed to get here, but judging from his bound wrists and the stout vine attaching his ankle to the rock wall of the cave, he's probably been captured. Ralph drops his cheek against the sandy floor of the cave, feeling his mouth twitch up in a bitter smile. Death doesn't allow it's prey to get away and is extremely jealous of its chosen victims. The blonde has cheated dying once, and it's come back to finish him off with the hands of the one person he had wanted to kill. How ironic. Ralph feels rather than sees Jack appear at the entrance and walk towards him; the soft sounds of his feet stopping right next to Ralph's back. A sharp point digs into his ribs and Ralph draws in a sharp breath, the shadowy figure standing above him laughs quietly.

"Awake, Ralph?"

Said male twists his body away and sits up against the wall, drawing his lips back into a snarl, "Going to kill me, savage? Like you did the others?" Jack's eyes flash in the dim light of the cave and he lunges towards Ralph. The blonde hisses in displeasure as the needlepoint of a knife makes itself known at his neck; Jack grins, forcing Ralph's chin up with the weapon to expose the entire expanse of his throat, the icy pupils tracing the hidden arteries under the skin.

"Such a tempting proposition, but no. I won't let you die a martyr." The point moves from the captive teen's throat to the jugular, lightly tracing the path of the vein, "But it is oh so tempting." The blade pulls away suddenly and flicks across Ralph's shoulder, intentionally drawing blood and leaving a shallow cut on the skin. The blonde shies away from the unexpected pain and Jack smiles. There's a silver arc as the knife flicks out again, this time leaving a crimson line on Ralph's forearm, right below the elbow. The third time Jack deliberately cuts a pattern onto the tan skin. Taking advantage of the prisoner's turned body, the redhead leaves a bleeding mark resembling two "X"s on Ralph's left shoulder blade. The bound male hisses in anger and pain, lashing out with his free foot; Jack dodges the attack with a grin, amused at the reaction he'd gotten out of his former chief.

"Energetic, aren't you?" Ralph grits his teeth at the silky purr, "Roger is going to love playing with you." Leaving the blonde to digest the new and possibly disturbing information alone, Jack spins on his heel and vanishes into the light opening of the cave.

"Play time" comes two hours later, or so Ralph guesses from the movement of the sun. Two broad shouldered blondes come in and march him out of the cave to the center of the sandy clearing. Roger is already there, unwinding the slender cord from its coiled form in his hands; the dark eyes light up when he sees his new plaything appear and the whip hums to life. The hunters ring them in, spears at their sides as one of Ralph's escorts unties his hands and Roger advances on the blonde.

The first strike catches Ralph on his stomach and leaves an angry swathe of red in its wake; instinctively, Ralph jerks away and runs into the blunt end of a spear. The hunter shoves him back into the center, eyes dancing with eagerness. The whip is already humming towards him; this time, it slashes across his shoulder and chest reopening the earlier cut from the knife. The whip tears away skin and widens the wound, making warm liquid bead at the edges of the laceration. The blonde can hear the sharp intake of breath from the surrounding hunters and feel their urge to kill leap and squirm underneath their painted masks. From somewhere above them, Ralph senses Jack's mocking smile directed at him; the grey-blue eyes narrow, if the hunters want to play a game, they're going to have to play by his rules. If Roger wants his fun, he's going to have to work for it. When the whip sings again, Ralph is ready; the blonde slips to the side like a shadow, the strike humming harmlessly past him. He sees the brunette grin at the challenge and increase the tempo of his lashes at the evasive blonde. The two circle around each other for a while until Roger becomes bored of the whip and tackles Ralph.

The blonde is caught by surprise; the combination of Roger's legs and weight makes the two of them skid on the sandy floor. Ralph hisses at the sting of the outer layer of his skin being torn away by the rough ground; Roger coos at the sound of pain and flips the other male over, sitting on his back and forcing the blonde's arms on the ground. He grins at the sight of the symbol Jack's cut onto Ralph's back and yanks at the trapped male's hair, forcing Ralph to arch up close to him.

"You're his now, aren't you? Wonder how you're going to end. The Chief's quite...unpredictable," there's a slight pause as Roger chuckles, obviously recalling a pleasant memory, "Maybe you'll die by a rock as well. Just like that bag of lard."

Ralph growls, feeling his vision beginning to tinge with red. Will you take that without a fight? The beast's voice purrs in Ralph's head, Let him eat his own medicine, Ralph can feel the black void swallowing his mind, Come, come, dear child. I know what is best for you. Let go. Kill him

The blonde slams a foot into Roger's back, making the brunette release his hold then jerks his legs up underneath him, throwing Roger forward and off of his back. The brunette lands gracefully, turning to face him again with an elegant twist of his body. Ralph feels his eyes narrow into slits and he slips into a hunting crouch; the muscles in his legs coil and he springs like a panther at Roger. Although the male sidesteps and avoids the damage intended, the blonde pirouettes and slams his fist into the other's stomach as he skids past his target; Roger grunts at the impact, eyes glowing at the fury he had managed to elicit from the other male. This is going to be the most fun he's had in ages. The brunette is suddenly grateful that they'd failed to kill this exile two years ago. His job and occupation provided entertainment enough, but this, this was amusement in its purest form. Roger meets Ralph halfway, the shrieks of excitement from the surrounding hunters ringing in the clearing. The two boys are engaged in a lethal dance for a good amount of time; the deadly elegance contained within both lithe bodies twirl and spin around each other, the slightest misstep resulting in the dull thumps of flesh hitting flesh.

Then just as suddenly as Ralph had snapped and became a predator, he stops; the events leading up to the sudden end were confusing and chaotic. Ralph had tackled Roger to the ground and tried to pummel the brunette into a pulp. Roger had sustained considerable damage before he finally flipped their positions and trapped Ralph against the ground. The brunette's fingers had curled around the other male's throat, fuelled by the chanting cry of the spectators and his own sadistic pleasure at the other's choking response. There'd been a distinct difference in their strength; Roger's spent a good chunk of the three years tackling pigs and keeping them down. Ralph hasn't. It had looked like the blonde was going to be strangled to unconsciousness when he had abruptly slammed the palm of his hand full force into the other's nose. Roger let go with a grunt of surprise, and after coughing and gasping for a few minutes, Ralph suddenly went still, folding like a limp doll. For the rest of the session, he might as well have been dead.

Quickly becoming bored of this new arrangement and seeing that Jack had lost interest as well, Roger had waved the same two escorts forward to lead Ralph back into the cave. Once bound, leashed, and left alone again, Ralph begins to inspect the blossoming bruises appearing on his skin, cursing under his breath whenever the abrasions on his back touched anything. He doesn't really remember what happened after Roger had taunted him; everything was red until the brunette had more or less choked him to semi consciousness. The blonde heaves a sigh and immediately wishes he hadn't, his bruised ribs protest at the extra strain put on them with the large breath by producing a dull throbbing in his sides. Ralph is distracted from his discomfort when two familiar shapes slip into his line of vision; Samneric sidle up, uncertainty flickering in their identical hazel eyes. They stare hard at him, as if trying to reassure themselves he was actually there before beginning to smear a pasty green mixture onto Ralph's injuries mumbling nervously.

"Gave Roger quite a beating there."

"Don't think-"

"He can hunt for a while."

"Chief's kind of put out."

"Right. Roger's one of the best."

Both snort sarcastically at this remark, "Probably because he wants blood all the time." Ralph shifts underneath their ministering hands and they stop immediately, leaning away slightly, "We should go now. Nice seeing you alive and mostly healthy."

Ralph frowns at the last comment; he doesn't recall them being close enough to care about his state of being; what exactly had his near death experience eaten up? He only remembers that Jack and his tribe of hunters were responsible for the deaths of two people, but there's a vague recollection of his own thrill at being a part of a hunt. What part did he play in all of this? There's a blurry image of a fire; Ralph can't hold it long enough to bring it into focus. He groans irritably; what wasn't he remembering?

The concentration disappears when Jack strides back into the cave; Ralph immediately places himself as far away from the redhead as he can. He's not in the mood to hold another conversation with the savage. Surprisingly, Jack ignores him and pulls out three bowls of paint instead; Ralph watches from the shadows as the ginger meticulously applies the paint to his face, tracing the fading outlines of a previous pattern on his skin. Jack looks demonic in the little light allowed in by the entrance of the cave; the red and white cuts his face into unnatural portions and highlights the bolting blue eyes. He twirls his spear experimentally, nearly slashing Ralph in the small space; the mask turns towards the blonde upon hearing the annoyed sound from the prisoner and smirks.

"If you prove to be a good boy, I might let you join us." Jack laughs at the glare Ralph shoots him, "But you're too uncontrollable, can't let a traitor hold his own weapon now, can I?"

He doesn't wait for an answer. The masked face turns away from the blonde and Ralph stares at the tall silhouette until it vanishes from his vision.

I finally managed to write chapter five; it's one of those chapters where I feel like I should have done better, but can't figure out how to improve so it sits on my mind and annoys me until I give up and post it.

Erm... yeah... the plot line is killing me. Thank you for the support though :) It helps a lot.