A Soldier For All Seasons Ch. 09

The morning came too soon and both of them barely slept. Nate's back ached in pain, the straw having provided little comfort. They were given some gruel to eat and forced to strip and change into a set of underwear at the threat of shock-prods.

A guard hosed them down with what felt like ten gallons of water. The guard pressed a button on the hose and then started spraying some sort of oil, making them slick and glistening.

"To make you look better for the crowds." The guard smirked. "And so the beasties can smell you real good."

Ana crossed her arms, feeling pretty vulnerable in her skimpy bra and panties, covered in shining oil. Nate wasn't feeling much better, wearing just a set of boxers.

The stone walls were beginning to shake a little, vibrating, and as it worsened, Nate realized that it was the crowds beginning to enter. Was the arena built above their dungeons? Something roared in the distance. An angry beast.

"We're going to be okay." Nate told Ana, squeezing her hand.

"I know." Ana squeezed it back. "There's no way you're gonna let me die a virgin, you...you...reprobate."

Nate snorted.

Even with their false joviality, they couldn't help the nerves, the hair on the back of their necks standing up.

Finally, the guards came, marching them out, through stone corridors and up stone stairs that were wonky, too large, built in a different time. A portcullis with a metal latticed grille, through which Nate and Ana could hear more than see the buzz of the crowd. A commentator, linked into some intercom. The arena itself was oddly idyllic, composed of a water lagoon, little sandy islands with palm islands. A holo-poster made real.

"Ladies and gentlemen, rogues and roses, the time has come. Traitors and fools come to this arena to die well, and finer entertainment you have never seen. Today, we have a special surprise. Every showing, we show exotic and beautiful beasts, but today we also give you beautiful gladiators. Bring out the gladiators!"

The portcullis opened.

"Gladiators?" Nate muttered. "Are you fucking serious?"

"Get out there, dipshit." The guard kicked him in the back and forced him through the gate. They stepped out to screams and burning sun, stepping out in the shin-height water, wading through to the sands of the little islands. Nate slowly turned to survey the arena and found a fantasy made real. Shaped metal, painted with a stone effect. Arches over columns, hung with shimmering white banners, displaying an ornate 'A'. An amphitheater meant to echo the ancient buildings, but it wasn't long before the fantasy fell apart.

Drones buzzed by, delivering food and drink. Chips in the stone effect on the columns, the metal showing through. A large cube screen hanging high above them gave the spectators a better view. Someone in the crowd fell forward and was caught by a blue forcefield. The crowd booed as he was caught safely, desperate for blood. They wouldn't have to wait long.

On the lowest level, still far above the arena grounds, the dais, long enough to seat those that wouldn't want to mix with the crowds. Among them, the Matriarch on her throne — Madam Mayko.

The sun beamed down, hot on their bare skin. Apparently, the Portmaster had been lying about it always being night in the Acropolis. Ana futilely tried to tug down her panties as they rose up her ass, displaying too much cheek to the baying mob.

"Have you ever seen such fine specimens?" The announcer asked. Nate strained his eyes to see him in his commentary box, alone and protected by his own fields. "I'm hot under the collar already, but maybe that's because I've been drinking."

The crowd whistled and jeered.

"I kid of course, Matriarch. Never a drop while I'm on the job!" He coughed and paused, an inaudible wink to the audience. "On with the show! With such beautiful gladiators, we needed to match them with mighty beasts. We have eight today—" Nate tuned them out as Ana muttered to him.

"Eight?"

"Just gotta buy time for uh, what's her name?" He whispered.

"She didn't give it. Hot spy lady."

"You think she's hot too?"

"I'm not blind." She saw something over his shoulder. "Not yet at least."

Nate turned to see a black furred beast, all paws, claws and snapping jaws. For a moment, it had two heads, until the clanged together and like black oil, merged together in a gloopy mess, until they were one again.

"A symbiote." Ana breathed out.

"The Telvarus! Brought here from distant worlds and merged by the Matriarch's scientists with a parasite from the Boom! The same Boom that birthed some of the galaxy's scariest parasites!"

The Boom, Nate knew, referred to an exploding star that had caused a lot of death and made many of the galaxy's travel routes untravellable for a long time. For two months, in their barracks, they'd used packaged-food cardboard instead of toilet paper. He hated the fucking Boom.

The collared Killik came forward, prodded forth by four nervous guards with shock-prods. With each prod, the beast growled and writhed, but like Nate and Ana, it was pushed forth reluctantly into the shallow water. Its second head emerged again for a moment, and the closest guard jumped back.

Too late. The neck split, like a split tongue, allowing the second head to dart forth and chomp down. The guard was torn in two, his waist spurting up blood as his lifeless legs took a few useless steps.

"Yeesh. I guess I won't see him at the holiday party." The announcer cracked.

The beast swallowed.

So did Nate.

The man had dropped his shock-prod. Could he get to it?

"Isabelle, give me something." Nate murmured.

Working on it.

"Nate?!" Ana cried.

"We split. It can't chase us both. Use the tree, keep it between you. Don't climb it." He ordered.

"But there's only one tree." Ana protested.

"Good point." He grunted.

The chains were dropped and the guards scampered to an exit. The Killik roared, the very noise of it shaking their bones. Its head came down, eyes thinning as it noticed them.

"Isabelle!"

Symbiotes have two minds, keep it guessing. And, well...run!

The beast charged. Nate and Ana split, Ana sprinting, kicking up sand as she darted for the trees. But the beast went for Nate. He dove and rolled into the waters as the Killik snapped forward, missing him. Thankfully, the second head was still encased — it could only emerge for a few seconds at a time.

Nate came up and didn't stop, wading forth into the deeper water. He had to get to the shock-prod! It taunted him at the edge of the arena, sitting on the thin layer of golden sand that encased the lagoon.

The water slowed him down but it slowed the beast too. The collar was still too tight and it seemed to tighten the more he tried to fiddle with it.

A shock ran through him, frying his brain for a moment, the collar lighting blue. "Now, now." The announcer tutted. "No taking that off. Naughty boy!"

A growl announced the Killik had caught up to him. Nate turned.

"Easy, boy." Nate held his hands up as the beast approached, the water making it more angry.

Shock prod is still fifteen feet away, Nate.

Fuck, what weapons did he have? The only thing he had on him were his soaking wet boxers.

A memory came to mind. Boot camp, the other guys whipping each other with wet towels. Half stupid games, half hazing.

Fuck it.

He tore his boxers off and crouched. He had to get this right.

The beast lunged. He jerked back and snapped his boxers forward, right into the Killik's eye. It howled and leapt back, sniffing and snorting as it eyed him.

"Would you look at that monster?! And how about the Killik too?" The announcer collapsed into guffaws, laughing at his own joke.

Nate grimaced but he didn't have time for embarrassment. Another head emerged from the Killik, and while the first head was whining, this head was furious, snapping and growling. The heads growled at each other, arguing, buying him time.

Nate made for the shock-prod and held it up like a sword, grinning with victory. He pressed the button to get that satisfying buzz of heavy voltage.

It did nothing.

He pressed it again.

The prod is likely fingerprint activated. Isabelle told him. His legs are by your side, but it's unlikely his toes will work.

"You think?" Nate muttered.

He needed a new plan but he couldn't think straight, leashed by this fucking electro-collar — he had to get it off. He managed to loosen it a lot but then another sharp shock ran through him, dropping him to one knee.

"Fucking fuck!" He yelled through the pain. Seven of the green bars had turned red, seven of ten. Fuck, this wasn't even the highest setting? The highest would drop a fucking horse.

Or maybe something bigger...

"Is that all you have?" Nate yelled. "Put it up. Give me all you've got!"

The crowd roared.

"Goodness me, is the Footlong Fighter taunting our electro-shock technicians? That's not going to end well. Hold your nostrils, boys and girls, we have a barbecue on the menu."

"Nate!" Ana yelled, dutifully hiding behind the tree. "What are you doing?"

He waved her off and lay back in the deepest water, submerging himself. The cool water washed over him, clearing his mind. The beast was coming to an agreement, ready to pounce on him anew.

Distantly, he heard the announcer, like a voice in a dream. The sun beamed down, dappling the water, and all he could see were shimmering colors, the gold of the sun, the tan of the stone, the rainbow of colors of the crowd. And then the black of the beast.

The beast had to put its head into the water to eat him, and as it did, Nate threw the collar into its gaping mouth. The beast pulled back, wary of another trick, and Nate stood up like a shot, hand to his empty neck, pretending he wore the collar still. The technicians obeyed and fried the collar.

The beast lit blue, brain sizzling, eyes rolling, its very fur standing up. It dropped into the water like a limp noodle.

He rose up, the water coursing off his naked body, and the crowd roared with approval, the adrenaline streaming through him, the rush of the triumph. He roared with them, turning slowly and in that moment he really did feel like a gladiator. Ana rushed him and he kissed her like a caveman, grabbing her roughly and dipping her back, squeezing her ass so hard he left a handprint.

"Caveman say me angry." He joked.

"Cavewoman think you horny." She teased him back, eyes dropping to his erection.

"Rush of blood." He admitted. "Plus, you look real good oiled up."

"Oh baby, do we have a show on our hands today. And to think I only rolled out of bed an hour ago." The announcer droned. "The other gladiators will have to wait their turns and won't they feel lucky?! Round two, and this one's real hot, hot, hot!"

The very arena they were standing on started to slide back, the metal plates underneath the lagoon shifting and pulling them out to the side of the arena. The center amphitheater opened up like a cavern and up rose a new set of metal plates, a new landscape, a new environment. And this one spat and bubbled, little lakes of purple poison hissing up into the air. It was a reflection of the paradise island but corrupted, so the tree was now dead and black, the blue waters now a toxic bog.

"This doesn't look good." Ana murmured.

This looks sub-optimal. Isabelle echoed.

"Fuck," said Nate.

At the side of the amphitheater, they were deposited by the disappearing lagoon, the water and the sand pouring away into grates while everything larger was just left discarded. It was them, the body of the Killik, the tree, the dead guard, left like debris.

Better find something, anything, you can use, Nate. Isabelle told him.

She was right. He examined the beast and then carefully reached into its mouth to break off a tooth. The tooth was as big as his head and much sharper than his brain — he really did feel like he was operating on pure adrenaline right now. He stabbed the tooth into the beasts neck just to ensure the fucking thing wasn't getting up again; he didn't think he'd killed it with the electro-blast, even if it was delivered right in its brain.

"Anything else we need?" He asked Ana, who was looking at him with wide eyes. Nate looked down at himself to realize the beast had spurted some blood on him — now he really did look like a caveman.

"Umm, maybe the shock prod? Can Isabelle get it working?"

No but take it anyway. Give to Ana, it'll give her a bit of confidence.

"Here, hold this." Nate told her absently, eyes on the gates that held the beasts back. Nothing emerged from the black abyss behind the portcullis, but he could see a lot of smoke wafting out.

"Round two! Ladies and gentleman, you've eaten this next beast. You've dined upon its steaks, and after dinner, they drizzled chocolate on its fire-sacs. If you're anything like me, you've paid too much for the privilege of chowing it down. It's a gimmick, isn't it? But there's no date that isn't impressed when you belch up a torch of flame, high into the air. As long as your mother-in-law doesn't use a gallon of hairspray like mine — the best worst thing I ever did, let me tell you. You already know the name so please welcome the Flarefucker!"

"The Flarefucker?" Ana said uneasily.

The Flarefucker is a colloquial name for the Flaris Flarilem, a fire breathing reptile from the Collaris—

"That's okay, Isabelle." Nate saw it arrive, snorting blue flame from its nostrils as it was prodded forth. It was a scaly fucker, striped red and black. Under the chin were the famous fire-sacs, rolling and wrinkly like testicles, except instead of semen they produced searing city-burning flames. It was about the same size as the Killik, but its tail was sharp and dangerous in its own right. Not that it would need it, with the range of its fire. "Any ideas on taking it down?"

As with most beasts, the eyes are highly vulnerable. And, you know, the general head region. Unfortunately, given the eyes are located so close to the mouth, they are rarely beaten in combat.

"Thank you, Isabelle." Nate sighed.

"What did she say?"

"Lots of good stuff but for now, let's get to the tree, before the fight starts."

They made their way over black sand to the dead, crumbling tree.

"Nate, are you sure?" Ana looked at the tree uncertainly.

He heaved her up onto the lowest branch. "Start climbing, I'm right behind you. Get that collar off, they'll be focused on me."

Unfortunately, the scales of the so called Flarefucker are resistant to electricity.

"Of course they are."

The guards got away without incident and the lizard scuttled into the toxic bog. Its beady eyes settled on Nate immediately and he saw its flame-sacs withdraw and press closer to its throat. That was fine — he was far away.

The flame-breath shot out, over the toxic bog. There was a whoosh of air and a crack in the air as the bog exploded. Fire and flames. Nate felt his very skin dry as his vision swam in shades of blue and orange.

"Nate? Nate!" Ana's face, a slap on his cheek. He stumbled up.

"What happened?" He groaned, his sight blurry.

"Turns ouy fire and acid makes for a big boom." The arena was on fire, the toxic bog sending flames and smoke high into the sky.

"Ladies and gentleman, don't panic. You are protected by the latest in air-filtering technology, none of the fumes will reach you." The announcer didn't quite lift his button properly and one could strain to hear him talking to his producer. "Not again guys, I've told you, you've got to mix and match the beast and the arena properly!"

The button went down one more. "Remember, it's been over two years since we last had a crowd injury." He cheered. "Just look at the banner."

Sure enough, a white cloth banner hung large from the lowest crowd arch, probably where the crowed entered and exited. Unlike the rest of the advertisements in the arena, which were holo projected, this one was faded and real. It read 'ACROPOLIS VALUES YOUR SAFETY.'

Was the lizard dead? The crowd waited as the smoke cleared, helped by a swarm of drones with fans.

A forked tongue slithered through the smoke. Nate quickly pushed Ana up the tree as the lizard pushed through, blackened but unhurt by the toxic explosion. He had the Killik's tooth to use as a dagger but how could he get close?

Nate, the Flarefucker's fire-sacs may be the key.

How's that?

The sacs are how he breathes in, almost like gills. The tiny pores in the sac-skin will detoxify any poison, so he can move through the smoke. But if you can inject the poison directly into the fire-sacs, then he'll be breathing it into his very lungs as well as it spreading into his very bloodstream.

"Stab the fire-sac with poison tooth. I got it." Nate jumped from the tree that he was climbing and slid across the sands to the toxic bog that surrounded the little isle. He dipped the tooth into the violet acid as it bubbled and spat.

"Nate!" Ana yelled. Nate turned to see the Flarefucker breathing angrily, blue fires spitting of its nostril as it eyed him. "Move your backside!"

She is aware she is allowed to say ass, right?

The sacs contracted.

"Fuck." Nate bit out. He was roast meat.

But Ana let out an animal's howl and leapt from the tree onto the lizard's back. She held onto a scale for a second before the beast reared back angrily. Ana flew back onto the sands.

"Ana!" Nate shouted.

She's okay. Move!

Ana had bought him time. Nate sprinted for the tree as the lizard's fire-sacs contracted again. He dove behind its thick trunk just as the flames hit. A gout of flame split past him, drying the very moisture on the tongue of his open mouth, so hot it felt like he was in hell itself. The tree crumbles to ashes but not before the Flarefucker finished, the fierce orange breath dissipating to little red sparks.

Maybe it was a good thing you two weren't in that tree. Isabelle mused.

But now the only cover in the arena was gone, and they were no closer to killing the Flarefucker. Nate was in the open, naked and holding a tooth.

Was he going to die here?

Ana cried out. "Over here, you oversized scaly lizard-brain!"

Is she talking to you? Isabelle quipped.

Ana pulled on the Flarefucker's tail sharply and the beast whirled around in the rage. Nate scowled — he wasn't going to let the Princess sacrifice herself, not on his watch, not ever. The lizard turned its back to him, and he'd make it pay.

He sprinted up the tail as it lay flat, up the backside, pushing off each hard scale, like jumping between cobblestones. On the back and then Nate could see its salvation, the two red horns, like the devil's horns.

The lizard reared its head back and Nate knew what that meant. He had only seconds before Ana was roasted. He grabbed the horns and pulled back hard, like joysticks in a ship, like he was about to crash into a mountain. His heels dug into the scales and he veered onto his back as he yelled.

The Flarefucker shot flames — up! Nate pulled its head back to fire harmlessly into the air. High above, the drones wafting smoke away were roasted. Metal screeched, the bots beeped, white drones turning black.

But Nate wasn't paying attention — he only had one shot at this. He vaulted over the side of the lizard's head, eyes on the prize. The lizard's glowing red fire-sacs, scrunched up like a paper bag. His tooth-dagger hand pulled back, ready to stab.

And then he was head-butted away. The lizard made a casual flick of its head and sent him flying back, right next to Ana.

"Oww." Nate groaned as he lay back in the sands. "Think we're dead, baby." No cover, no hiding, they'd die together, charred to ashes.