The Beast Within

Champion of the Pit: Chapter Two

My arrival in the pit went unnoticed.

The audience was talking among themselves, their attention and delight still held by the previous battle.

Sand crunched under my feet. Inside, my blood was hot, and a rising thrill chased its way through my body as I gazed at the blur of onlookers that surrounded me.

I'll give you a fight unlike any other.

I wasn't sure my thoughts were my own.

Myranda took her place at the edge of the pit, and leaned forward to catch my attention with a wave. When my eyes found her she slipped two fingers into her mouth and blew a shrill whistle.

At least there was one in the audience who would cheer for me. 

A skeletal man entered the pit, wearing a bright vest under a crimson coat and a long hat that resembled a chimney. When he held his hands in the air the room fell silent.

"Audience!" he called, his voice booming and clear as a bell. "Observers, young and old, rich and poor, one and all! You've come for a fight and we've given you plenty—but there's more yet to come!"

Applause shook the sand. 

"You might be the most lucky of all, for tonight we have a unique spectacle! A rare specimen collected for your pleasure, unseen in the circus for generations! Behold!"

It wasn't until he appeared at my side that I realized how tall the gangly man truly was.

He must have stood seven feet high, and his hands were twice the width of Pa's. He grabbed my wrist and lifted my arm into the air—

And was disappointed when the audience replied with nothing.

"He looks like a boy, yes? Nothing more than an ordinary human, more fit as feeder than a fighter!" The audience laughed their agreement.

"You are wrong," the gangly man admonished, "for this boy is not what he appears to be, no. He is far more precious than most who walk the sand! Look closely now—can you see it?"

A few members of the audience tried.

"Can you see the beast lurking behind those innocent eyes?"

He grabbed my chin. Led by his spidery fingers, I was walked around the pit, my face presented for all to examine.  When we completed a full circle, he made a show of looking into my eyes. His dark irises held no mercy or softness.

"I can see it," the gangly man boasted. "I see what's hidden there. A fierce brute, snapping and clawing to be free!"

He dropped my chin and turned to the crowd.

"This boy is a disguise! Worn, no doubt, to lure unsuspecting prey closer. What we have before us here—is a champion!"

For a second I thought the audience would believe him. There was a scattering of hesitant applause. The gangly man leaned in and whispered in my ear:

"Go on, show them."

I craned my neck to look up at the man.

"I...I don't know how."

He frowned in bitter disappointment.

"Maybe we don't have a champion," he muttered before turning to the audience and putting on a mocking, sad expression. "Oh, the little thing is shy."

Laughter rang around us. My fists clenched at the insulting noise.

"We know what to do with shyness 'round here, don't we?"