Slave Unbound Ch. 32

Chapter 32

The Makings of Monsters

**Characters and text are protected under copyright law

Disclaimer: This story is not meant as 'erotica', but dark adventure-fantasy. It may contain material that sensitive readers might find uncomfortable. Please be advised.

Sitting on the floor of her cell, deep in the underbelly of the Grand Arena, Leita focused on taking deep, slow breaths, centering her mind. Both Sasinel and Colja had toted learning to control breathing as vital to the martial forms they had taught her. Leita had found the practice to be definitely worth learning. It not only helped keep the mind clear and sharp, but made the body more prepared to act.

She would need both today. As much as she believed in her skill and had faith that she could defeat the beastman she was facing, she knew that this would be a significant challenge. Possibly the hardest challenge she had yet faced. This was not some tamed slave, broken by years of the collar and lash, but a savage and feral warrior that had killed over half a dozen people just since it had found itself here in the arena. Several of them guards simply trying to keep the thing under control.

It was without regard for mercy or decency, a beast in mindset that was ruled by its most aggressive and primal urges. Rage and lust. While even 'civilized' gladiators had been known to take the opportunity to violate a subdued opponent, meant to show their dominance over them, this thing had taken its pleasure with just about every opponent's body that had faced it, regardless of either gender or whether that body was even still breathing. Perhaps it was meant as an act of defiance against those holding it, but more likely, it was simply because it didn't understand the idea of self-restraint.

With it almost half again taller than her and thrice as wide across the shoulders, she was bound to look like a child facing off against a giant. All it would take was one solid hit for it to knock her senseless long enough for it to either pummel her to death or use her like an obscene toy before she could even raise a defense. Which meant that she had to make sure that it never managed to hit her.

She visualized the creature in her mind, played ideas of how the fight might go, intending to prepare herself. However, the image of the oruhk landing a blow and then tearing her apart kept making its way into every scenario she imagined. Apparently, some part of her, a less certain of her capabilities part, had found a way to communicate its fears to her conscious mind. For the first time since convincing her Mistress to allow her this, she truly wondered if she'd made a tremendous mistake. Had she let ego convince her that she was untouchable, only to put her in a situation that would brutally correct that assumption?

The sound of guards entering the holding area caught her attention and she allowed herself to be distracted by it, if only for a break from her growing concerns. Looking out from the bars, she saw a sight that caught her full attention and she rose up to her feet to get a better look. Instead of the usual pair of guards bringing in a new gladiator to the holding area, this fighter had five around him. The man, not human from what little she could see of him, wasn't just manacled and chained, but fully trussed up in a leather harness that pinned his arms around his body. All five of the guards looked especially wary, despite the fact that he could barely do more than shuffle along between them.

It was the kind of lengths she would have imagined a creature like the oruhk would require. Given the hulking size of the retrained, as well as the tell-tale tufts of dark fur-like hair and sienna skin she could see, she wondered if this was, indeed, her opponent for today. Somehow though, she doubted it. Despite the heavy reinforcements utilized, the gladiator was giving no resistance and was actually calm in demeanor.

She watched as they brought him all the way to the cell across from her, depositing him and taking up ready positions to defend against him as one of them released him from the harness and muzzle. Again, the wariness seemed completely unwarranted, the creature showing no signs of aggression or resistance. In fact, as the muzzle came off, it revealed a grinning orling face, seeming merely amused by their fear.

Once he was free of the fetters, they hastily vacated the cell and locked it, moving away quickly. The orling just watched the whole show passively, completely at odds with the ends taken to put him the cage. However, his eyes remained fixed on them, tracking them like a hungry wolf as they took their leave. As reserved as he might seem, there was little question that he radiated an definite aura of dangerousness.

Something about his appearance made him look feral, more animal than man. While it was obvious, now, that he was not a full-blooded oruhk, he most certainly took more after that side of his heritage than the human side. At a quick glance, in low light, he could easily be mistaken for one of his full-blooded kin.

His eyes radiated with intensity and seemed to take in everything around him, which included the short blonde girl staring at him from the cage across the way. He locked his gaze on her and languidly moved up to the bars of his cage, though the motion suggested that of a hunting cat stalking prey. His smile spread out into a broad grin, affording her a view of his sharp teeth.

"My guess is that you are The Crusher." Leita said to him. Though his serene demeanor wasn't what she was expecting, there was little question of his identity, given the pomp of his entrance and the sheer aura of menace he exuded. "They say the oruhk I'm fighting today is something only you could kill, due to how powerful it is. I'm hoping they are wrong."

The gladiator peered at her in feral amusement, the broad grin shifting into something more like a sneer. His dark eyes danced as they regarded her, his menace palpable, despite the calm and jocular manner he seemed to assume. Regardless, Leita continued on.

"Every time I try and picture the fight, I see myself losing. I had a chance to see this thing tear apart someone I knew, saw how easily it killed one of the guards just bringing it out." She exhaled a troubled sigh. "I want to believe that I'm better skilled and smarter, that all I have to do is be faster, cleverer. But I don't think it's that easy." She grimaced. "I'm good with patterns and combat styles, but this thing just butchers."

She cocked an eyebrow him. "So, I'm finding myself wondering: 'how would The Crusher fight it'? No one seems to doubt you'd kill this creature. So, maybe if I can think like The Crusher, I can fight like The Crusher."

The orling tilted his head, the toothy sneer relaxing into something more contemplative, and his expression became curious. He briefly glanced around, looking at the empty other cages. While the gallery had been half full a bit ago, all the rest of the day's fighters had already been taken off to prep. At the moment, it was just the two of them, save for a few guards posted some ways away.

"First of all, there's no 'the'." He said to her in a low tone, his eyes shifting back onto her. The voice was deep, but smooth and clear. It surprised her enough to realize that he could talk, given that his reputation painted him as a savage animal that stood upright, but the rich clarity of the voice surprised her even more. "My name is simply 'Crusher'. I'm sure I had another name, once, but I can't remember what that was. I like 'Crusher' though. Kinda fits me. Secondly, nobody fights like me, no matter how much you think you can get into my head."

Leita tried to respond, but her astonishment at just how articulate he sounded stole her words. Apparently, Crusher was used to the reaction, as he gave a grim laugh. "Expected me to be stupid and barely able to talk, weren't ya?"

She nodded, noticing that he was talking almost at a hush, as if to make sure that only she heard him doing so. "I suppose there was no good reason for me to have thought that. I apologize." She finally managed to say back, keeping her own voice low as well.

He gave a soft chuckle. "Oh, no, I get why you would. Most people assume that. My reputation is carefully cultivated to portray me as a raging beastman, all fury and no smarts. It's intentional. Makes people think they can outwit me." His grin once again spread into that wolfish, toothy sneer. "It's fun to see the moment they realize they can't reach their eyes. The look of fear they get is delicious."

Leita actually smiled back at him. "You let them underestimate you. Honestly, I'm sure that's part of my own success, actually. I've seen that same look of realization in an opponent's eyes. Being so short and small, most people think I'm going to be weak. I'm not."

Crusher scanned her up and down a moment, considering her. "I gotta admit, you really don't look like that much at first glance. There's a scrappiness to you though. It's in the eyes. I'd put my coin on you being the one walking away after a fight. Believe it or not, I recognize who you are too. Lotta people talking about how surprisingly good you are and how you always find a way to take down better opponents."

"Hope I can manage live up to that reputation today." She said uncertainly.

Crusher shrugged. "Hulvoc'll be a good indicator of that, I guess."

"Hulvoc?" Leita asked.

"The oruhk." Crusher replied. "The one you're fighting today. His name is Hulvoc. He was a war chief of his tribe. That's something you only get to be when you're the strongest and best warrior in a tribe. Killed almost a dozen people just in capturing him and transporting him to Solace."

Leita peered at him. "I don't think even Sabrina knew all that. How do you?"

"I like to know who I'm killing." Crusher laughed. "Solivier usually has people research the victims I'm put against for me. I was supposed to fight Hulvoc next week, since it was expected that the chump fighting him today wouldn't survive."

"Me, you mean." Leita sighed.

"Last I heard, it was supposed to be some throw away from your House." Crusher returned. "Not you. So, either your owner has decided you're no longer entertaining or really thinks you're a champion." He cocked his head. "Interesting that you call her by her first name though." His eyes twinkled with amusement.

Leita flinched. It hadn't even occurred to her that she had just referred to her as 'Sabrina' in public. She was definitely letting herself get too familiar and careless. "Actually, I asked her to give this fight to me. To protect the 'chump' who was supposed to die today."

"How stupidly noble of you." Crusher chuckled. "Guess she's not afraid of losing her investment anymore. I guess you killing off the assassin woman made her more confident in your ability. Or maybe she's just grown tired of you calling her by her first name."

"Actually, she likes it when I do that." Leita replied with a sly grin. "Especially when I'm fucking her."

This time it was Crusher's turn to stare at her with astonished note. After a moment, he gave a loud and highly amused laugh, the sudden bark of it made every guard in the corners of the room jump and draw weapons, looking nervously in the direction of Crusher's cage. After a moment, they seemed to realize he was still contained and relaxed.

"I like you." Crusher gave her an admiring look. "You're feisty. And probably the first person, in a really long time, who doesn't seem scared of me."

"I used to be afraid of everything." She gave a little shrug. "A scared girl in a scary world. I got tired of it, I guess?" She peered at him speculatively. "Is that why you decided to actually talk to me and spoil the illusion of you as the 'dumb savage'? I assume because you figured it would scare me more to learn you were actually intelligent and cunning."

Crusher regarded her with growing wonder, seeming to really see her now. "I'm starting to see why everyone is so obsessed with you. You are definitely not what you seem."

"Nor are you." Leita countered.

Crusher gave another bark of laughter, this time quiet enough not to startle the guards again. "You're right. I don't usually talk to anyone but Solivier. Ruins the mystique. Most people find that scary enough, but I figured you'd be more intimidated by the idea of someone ruthless and sharp." He gave a chuckle. "Still, kinda glad I made an exception for you, even if it didn't make a difference. You're interesting. Gonna suck when Hulvoc kills you and rapes the corpse."

"Well, not really planning to let either of those things happen." Leita responded with a sigh. "Though I guess you're hoping for a crack at the creature yourself. I suppose taking out a tribal leader would be a special treat for you, given your past."

Crusher cocked a curious eyebrow, though there was a knowing look to his grin. "My past?"

"From when you were a part of a tribe yourself." Leita said carefully. "According to the stories, you grew up as a part of an oruhk tribe, your strength in battle earning you a unique place among them, despite your mixed heritage."

Crusher nodded slowly, considering the logic. "Oh, that past. Yeah..." He smiled broadly after a second and shook his head. "Actually, no. That's just propaganda. I've never even seen an oruhk tribe, much less been a part of one. Even if I had been born into one, I'd have been killed at birth, wellbefore I could have impressed anybody with anything." He gave a wink. "Don't tell nobody though, cause—"

"It would ruin the mystique." Leita finished for him with a laugh. "I was getting a suspicion that was the case, just more of the woven myth."

"I'm actually as bondsborn as you are." Crusher explained. "I just had a talent for killing things since I could stand up straight. Though the full story don't go in a straight line, I eventually wound up here, where that talent could make me who I am."

"Well, I guess we both found our true places in the arena." Leita reasoned. "I have to admit, I never expected that this would be where I would flourish."

Crusher grinned. "Oh, I always assumed I wind up here, eventually. Just not as a gladiator." At her questioning look, he chuckled. "Like I said, I learned early that I had a talent for killing and I did a lot of it. I probably should have been here as an execution match myself, instead I wound up the executioner."

The idea of Crusher having previously been a mass murderer seemed to both fit with the ambiguous radiance of malevolence he had and seem contrary to how calm and personable he seemed. While he definitely looked like he could kill effortlessly, she would have expected him to seem more bloodthirsty and deranged. That he wasn't really did make him feel all the more dangerous and deeply evil. The truth was, she did find him frightening.

"So, since you're apparently an expert at killing, care to share any advice for Hulvoc?" Leita asked, figuring there was little reason not to try and see if she could get some tips from the best.

Crusher again seemed a bit surprised by her, as well as sincerely impressed. "Most people recoil when they learn that I kill for fun and murdered dozens of people even before I killed in here. You lean in. You are definitely interesting."

"I've killed two people since I first came to the arena and haven't yet felt guilty for either of them." Leita admitted. "While I'm not saying it excited me, like it obviously does you, I'm starting to realize I'm comfortable with taking people's lives. Even plan to kill some people for my own personal reasons, if I'm ever able. I suppose that makes me as much a murderer as you."

Crusher stared at her for a long moment, his face alight in utter enjoyment. "Yeah, I definitely like you." He said finally. "Oruhks aren't much for tactics or strategy, just brute force. You're right about that. They overwhelm people like you with sheer strength. And the truth is, since I can bring just as much brute force as they can, I find them boring to fight, so I'd rather you killed him so I can fight someone more challenging." He leaned thoughtfully against the bars.

"He'll fight purely with muscle and the assumption that he can overpower you with it. He's fast too though, so don't go thinking you can just dance around him while he makes slow unbalanced swings." He gave a quick glance over. "You mentioned that you're stronger than people think. How much so?"

In answer, Leita pulled her tunic off, revealing the bare upper body beneath. She'd always had decent tone of muscle, but the last months had turned that into a well-defined physique. "A lot so." She replied.

"With some decent tits too." Crusher noted. "Probably still not even a fraction as strong as he's going to be, but strong enough. Go in assuming that he's going to connect a few hits. Prepare yourself to take the hits, not avoid them. Let your body move with the impact, rolling away from the blow, and use that to change directions on the fly."

Leita goggled at him. "You have to be joking. Let him hit me?"

Crusher grinned broadly. "Yep. If you're actually prepared for it, you can control what the hit does to you. If you're fast enough, you can lift your feet up just at it connects and all he'll do is knock you away from him. The real trick is managing to land on your feet."

"You can't be serious." Leita persisted. "The timing on something like that would be nearly impossible."

Crusher gave a laugh. "Not really. It just sounds that way. The idea is to keep your focus on your opponent, read when and how he's attacking you. If your brains and body are fast enough to decide the best reaction, the hits won't hurt nearly as bad."

"Nearly as bad?" Leita cocked an eyebrow.

The humor in Crusher's face faded, giving way to that feral expression that seemed to always lurk just below the surface. "Oh, no matter what you do, he's still gonna hurt you. He's five times heavier than you and ten times as strong. Even if you keep a shield always between you and the hit and manage to do everything in your power to mitigate the force of every blow, you won't be able to lift your arm in the morning."

His eyes bore into her, fierce as raging flames. "So, the real questions are whether you can handle a little pain and keep your head when you feel it?"

For a long moment, Leita met those eyes, but was actually staring inwardly at herself, asking herself those questions. "Yes. If I couldn't, I wouldn't be here at all." She said finally, remembering that the same dagger she's put into Maslow's throat had all but broken one of her toes first. "If I can take three surprise punches from Kalder, surely I can take a few prepared hits from an oruhk."

A corner of Crusher's mouth curled up wryly. "Yeah, in the way that getting hit with a tomato is basically just like getting hit by a rock."

"Now you're mocking me." Leita replied with a frown. "Kalder basically IS a rock, so I guess that makes the oruhk the tomato in your example."

Once again, the guards jumped and drew weapons at the loud bark of laughter Crusher emitted. This time, one of them actually dared to venture over towards them to make sure that all was still well. "What are you doing over here?" The guard asked Leita, taking note of her being half naked.

Leita looked across at Crusher and gave her breasts a juggle. "I'm teasing the savage." She said, making her voice sound arrogant. "It seemed to be taking a liking to what it saw and I thought I'd give it a show."

Looking over at Crusher, the guard found the orling leering at her, tongue lolling out, and one hand massaging his loins. The look of utter distaste this put on his face was palpable. "Well, that's not a savage you want to tease, girl. Best get your shirt back on and leave him alone. He'll rip your face off if he thinks he can."