The Belly of the Beast

Ch. 63, The Darkest Hells

"Each week, the winners of the High Letter Trials are given a monetary prize, decided upon by a judge of Highs, awarded for how spectacular and entertaining the Trial was. In rare cases, the victors are given the choice to retire, or to ascend to the next letter trial, the final Letter Trial. Of course most of the victors choose to retire, as who would risk facing yet another letter trail when a life of ease and comfort awaited them?

Of the Top Letter Trial very little is known, except for the promise of a new life... if you win. Even I, born with the glorious letter C, know only one thing of the Top Letter Trial: throughout the entire history of the Beast, only 7 pairs of contestants, a male and a female, have ever entered the final Letter Trial.

None have ever returned."

                                                - The Fall of Earth and the Rise of the Ark Nations

"Well, little fox, looks like it's that time." Skull sauntered into the lift beside me. He too, wore the heavy, tightly fitted vest that would soon glow the color of our assigned team. Each team was meant to have five members, but Dagger and I weren't sure who our other members would be, or if we would have any. We'd failed to recruit anyone beyond Lizard, who had stuck out his tongue and hissed at me when I asked for him to join us. I was hoping the hiss had been affirmative.

We'd spent the last three days searching for the Eel. Either he really was just a legend, or he was one sneaky bastard. I'd gone to Xyla's club a few times as well, but she was either avoiding me, or really was happy in her new life. My whole life I'd tried not to compare my lot with others, but the fact that Xyla had found a new life without me burned a bitter hole in my heart.

But I have a new partner now. Dagger and I had come up with a plan we hoped would be enough to win and ascend to the Top. I tried to concentrate on it now, but then Skull began to whistle and I gave up. At this point, maybe the best thing I could do was bring Skull in as an ally... or at least convince him I wasn't a threat.

"Haven't seen you in the practice arena much," I said, trying to keep my voice conversational.

Skull blew out a breath and laid a hand on his stomach. "Oh, I've been practicing— practicing putting as much food in my stomach as possible." The platform shuddered and began to rise, bringing us up to the top of the arena. "Besides," he leaned in closer, "I've got you for a friend. Why do I need to practice? Everyone's going to be watching you and your lover."

"He's not my lover," I snapped. "And you're not my friend." Yes, well done Z. Alienate your one possible ally.

He put a hand to his chest as if wounded. "What do you call someone who had the chance to kill you, and didn't?"

"A mistake," I whispered, though I didn't mean it. I didn't regret saving Skull. I regretted a lot of things, but not that. Because if I hadn't saved him, then what was I except for a killer? I went back to ignoring him, the lift shuddering as it rose. Maybe it'll break and kill us both. Then I won't have to fight at all. The thought didn't relieve any of the building pressure and nerves. Through the cracks in the metal lift I could make out radon lights glowing red and blue on the massive structure, the roar of the crowd growing as other competitors reached the top.

"Z, have you ever read Dante's Inferno?"

Titles flashed through my mind, of all the books I'd devoured. But not that one. Curiosity— and the fact that Skull had read a book I hadn't— made me say, "No. Why?"

"It was a famous poem on Old Earth, about a man moving through the nine circles of Hell. In each circle he met people stuck in a different eternal torment," he smiled, "and each circle brought him closer to the very center of hell."