Chapter 20

The doors opened. A dull roar of white noise greeted her, while the bright light blinded Seraph, rendering the space beyond the door a featureless white field. She took a deep breath and stepped forward.

It was like stepping into a different world. The light and sound morphed into the scream of the crowd. The arena was marked with the remains of previous fights. Unknown debris littered the floor and dark brown stains were splashed on the sandy floor and concrete walls, painting a picture of brutality.

Across from her, an ogre entered the ring. She took a moment to study the monster. Seraph couldn't read any expression on the ogre's face– she wasn't sure it could even hold one. Its face seemed molded from leather and clay, with bulging cheeks that barely held his tusks. His wide eyes didn't appear to have lids and they protruded grossly out of his face, while two short horns poked straight out of his head from just behind his temples. His body was thirteen feet of heavy, solid muscle. He wore only an animal skin loincloth and was armed with a club. Seraph knew it wouldn't take more than one good hit to take her down, and once down, she might not get back up. Its head swiveled around the arena taking in the audience and roared at them before refocusing on Seraph. He lifted his club and charged.

Seraph blocked out everything and focused on her enemy. She dove to the side, almost tripping on the cumbersome shield before remembering she even had it. The ogre's club smashed into the ground where she had been standing. Seraph skipped back, quickly putting space between it and her.

Recovering quickly, the monster swung the club up and to the side, in a back hand sweep, coming so close that Seraph felt the air move across her cheek. Instead of flinching back she darted forward. Bringing her shield up to protect her head she lashed out with her sword, slicing the ogre's arm. Its skin was thick and the blow didn't cut as deep as Seraph thought that it should have- only a thin line of blood met her blade. Still it was enough to make the ogre, and the crowd, roar. The club came back down but she was already moving left, ducking under the wild swing.

His attack carried him further so that he faced her door, only now Seraph was behind him. She lunged, stabbing straight forward with the point of her blade. She hit his thigh right above his knee and with all her weight behind it, the sword cut deep, meeting almost no resistance, sliding in as if it belonged there.

The ogre kicked back, its heel catching Seraph full in the stomach and shoving the air out of her lungs. She didn't stumble, she flew back, hitting the wall behind her and sliding down to land on her ass. The ogre stumbled forward but he caught himself distressingly quickly. Seraph dragged herself to her feet, pushing against the wall. Whirling around club first, the ogre finally turned to faced her. Seraph expected him to charge again, but he only held his ground, eyeing her warily before slowly starting to circle her, forcing Seraph to do the same.

When he charged again he came at Seraph straight on, his club up over his opposite shoulder, holding his arm over his chest. Tried and true, Seraph ducked right, under his swing and almost didn't see his foot. The ogre lashed out with his leg. Anticipating exactly where she would move to avoid the club. Damn it, the brute was smarter than he looked. She jerked her shield and sword up in front of her. He connected, kicking her blade into her shield, her shield into her and her into the wall. Again. Her head kissed the concrete in a starburst of pain while the ogre earned a new gash on his foot.

Seraph hated that she was thankful for the healing earlier. Without it, and combined with her concussion, that blow might have ended the fight. She couldn't drag this out, or let the ogre drag it out either. She was faster, but that was just about her only advantage. Ducking, jumping and rolling around this arena would exhaust her quickly, stealing her one edge.

So she needed to end this soon. Now. Unfortunately, this only created more problems. Seraph had hit the ogre, drew its blood, but it didn't look like the monster was hurt all that much. Even the leg injury that she hoped would cripple it had only pissed it off.

Seraph charged. The monster wasn't expecting that. Seraph was able to get inside his reach before the monster even started to raise his club. Her blade slashed across his belly, opening a small cut, she and quickly moved to the side out of his range. He lashed out, but missed her by inches. She didn't let up, charging in again, feinting for his left side then striking his right arm when he moved to block her. Once again she scampered back after her hit.

The ogre was turning purple. Its eyes bulged and foam flew from its lips. Rage was getting the better of it, and Seraph would use that– turning its anger upon itself. It charged, hold its club in one meaty fist straight out in front as if it intended to skewer her with the blunt weapon. Seraph waited until the last second before sidestepping too let the monster charge past her, leaving a nice opening.

She wasn't watching his other hand. He snatched up her shield, wrenching her arm and picking her up off her feet. She tried to let go of the shield but her arm was caught in the handle. The beast's momentum allowed him to easily fling her up... and up... until her body was inverted above the edge of the pit. At the apex of her flight the ogre jerked her back to the ground, ripping her arm free of its socket. Seraph screamed as she felt her shoulder slip from the joint before smashing into the warehouse floor.

She had landed on the small space between the edge of the pit and the foot of the bleachers.

Breath came back in desperate gasps between racking coughs. The left side of her body felt like it was on fire. She stared at the edge of the pit with its three-foot tall barred wire fence. She stared at the massive hand that reached up to grab the wire. She stared at the second hand that joined its twin, still clutching its club. She stared at the hands that started to pull up the rest of the body.

Seraph rolled onto her good side and then onto her stomach. She dragged herself as best she could with one arm, abandoning the sword behind her. The crowd has transformed from jubilation to panic. In the few seconds and fewer feet between her and the slim safety of the stands, she was kicked and stepped on by the people fleeing the lower seats. It was all Seraph could do to protect herself as she moved forward. There was just enough room for her to crawl under the bottom seat.

The bleachers shook with the frantic movement of the crowd. Those still on them pushed up, away from the arena, while those at the top had nowhere to go but back down. Seraph pulled her legs under her and tried to sit up. By the time she managed it the ogre was almost out of the pit and its murderous eyes were trained on her. Someone jumped, or was pushed, off the back of the bleachers behind her and soon others followed, cursing as they landed poorly and screaming as still more landed on them. The press of bodies fell like a waterfall, crashing to the unforgiving concrete. The pressed Armani suits with the stained wife-beaters, humans mixed with the not so human, and they fell just the same. It was the safe choice. The ogre was out of the pit and moving towards the stands. One man tried to pass the brute and was caught by a back-swing, the club connecting with the back of his head. He slumped forward, plunging into the pit. He did not scream as he fell.

The ogre swiped at her through the slats of metal that made up the seating but Seraph shoved back out of his reach. The seats were too close together for him to get more than his arm between them. She cradled her shoulder as she scooted as far from him as she could get, pressing her back against a support post.

Above the sounds of chaos there was a gunshot. The ogre flinched and turned to face his new attacker. A guard stood between Seraph's bleacher and the one adjacent to it, firing his handgun at the monster. Turning to face this new threat, the ogre quickly forgot about Seraph. The ogre rushed him and the guard fired wildly, some hit– most didn't. What was that idiot thinking? He didn't need to stand next to the beast to shoot him! Okay, with this particular guard's aim and toy-sized gun maybe he did, but it was still a stupid idea. Like an exclamation point on Seraph's thought, the ogre reached the guard and brought the club right down on his head, crushing it like a blood filled grape.

People had started to abandon the next set of bleachers. Seraph stared. There were still people sitting and cheering in the stands not in the line of the ogre's rampage. What the hell was wrong with them? She turned back to the fallen guard. The ogre seemed to be considering his defeated foe, he looked from the body to Seraph back to the body and finally to the warehouse exit. Seraph almost felt her heart stop as the ogre headed unopposed towards the door.

Didn't that bitch have any more security? Seraph didn't know much about Japanese monsters, but if their ogres were anything like European ogres, that monster would head straight for the nearest home and start tearing apart any family it found there. Monsters of its kind were tricky, using glamour to hide in places that seemed that they shouldn't be able to, like densely populated suburban areas. This ability let them survive in a modern world that would have happily hunted them into extinction centuries ago. The ogre needed to be stopped now, before it was free to lose itself in the city streets and do untold damage.

Grabbing her arm, Seraph gritted her teeth and shoved her arm back into place. The pain and the sensation of bone scraping over bone made her nauseous and dizzy. She shook her head to clear it. Once in place, the pain in her arm lessened dramatically and she was able to think again.

First she needed to stop the ogre from making good its escape. She darted out from under the stands and snatched up the dead guard's gun. It was a 9mm. No wonder the ogre shrugged off the shots. Bracing herself, she fire three shots at the monster's back. They clustered around the ogre's left shoulder blade, the gun having pulled slightly to the side. The monster whirled and snarled at her. Good, her completely inadequate weapon had angered the ogre and now she had the extremely pissed off monster's attention. Just as planned.

Two more shots hit the beast in the chest before the gun clicked empty. Snorting like an enraged bull, the ogre thundered back towards her. Seraph discarded the useless gun and ran around to the front of the bleachers. Really, the importance of beneficial terrain from a tactical standpoint could never be overstated. Celeste would get much more interesting fights if her arena was more than an overgrown hole in the ground.

Now she needed him next to the pit. He stampeded towards her, crushing anyone stupid enough to be in his way. Good. She needed a weapon. Her abandoned sword lay just where she had left it and she grabbed it without breaking her stride. Good. She needed a high vantage point. Already half way up the deserted bleachers, Seraph jumped, taking the steps three at a time. Good. Now she just needed one last thing. Seraph reached the top and whirled to face the coming ogre. He had made it to the stands and was already taking his first step on the protesting metal planks. Great.

Now to see if the same trick would work twice. Seraph threw herself down the steps. The ogre swung at her, using his club like a baseball bat to knock her out of the air. Seraph had anticipated this, it was what she would have done, and landed in a crouch on the row just above him as the club whistled over her head. Leaving the perfect opening. She launched herself towards his chest, putting everything she had in it. She hit him with a full body slam knocking him right off his feet. Throwing her enemies down stairs– her new go-to move.

He grabbed her bad arm and squeezed it in a crushing grip just as she slammed her sword into his chest. It slid in between his ribs going straight up to the hilt, impaling him. He gasped scalding blood into her face and they fell.

They hit the floor of the pit with a bone jarring impact. What cushion Seraph had in landing on the ogre was lost as the hilt of her sword struck her chest. It seemed to Seraph that the whole arena shook with the force of their collision, though likely it was just in her head. She rolled off the beast and would have landed on her feet if her legs had decided to support her. Stumbling as best she could, Seraph backed away from the still twitching ogre. Blood bubbled on his lips as he struggled to breathe around the sword in his lungs. Seraph knew she missed its heart. Its death would be slow– it would be merciful to just end it.

The audience started cheering again. Seraph tore her eyes away from the ogre to stare disbelieving at them. Those not hurt in the rampage had returned to their seats– it seemed many had never left them, as entertained by the death of their colleagues as they were by the death of the contestants.

Celeste stepped up to the edge of the pit. She did not appear to be the least bit concerned about the disaster. She smiled down at Seraph and spoke in her cool, nearly apathetic voice.

"Release the dogs."

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