The Blood of a Warrior

Chapter Seven

I avoided her for weeks. Every time I saw her my face flushed red. She refused to look at me, much less speak with me.

I wanted to say something, anything, but I had no idea what to say. I wasn't prepared for this sort of thing. I can fight three men at once and win, but God help me if a woman comes onto me. It's not like this thing has ever really happened before. I'm really not the most appealing, considering I look like I dived into a wood chipper. Half the time she saw me I was soaked in another man's blood.

Why me? Why did this have to happen to me?

Seriously, what the fuck was going on here?

August came. In no time, it was my birthday. Not that anyone really knew. Only a few people, including Ms. Janet and The Ringmaster.

I hated when people made a big deal out of birthdays. I just didn't see the point in making a fuss. I mean, sure, you survived another year, but honestly, that was it. But I couldn't quite convince people to not get me gifts. Normally, people didn't get anything extravagant, just a few books and some more art supplies. Little things.

Except The Ringmaster. He insisted on something big. Quiet, but big.

That morning I woke up early, and got dressed without waking Ariana up.

For some reason a spot in beside my bed was warm, as if someone had slept there. Ariana was fast asleep in the corner, looking as if she had never moved.

I regarded it as just nerves. I sat at my desk and doodled on the surface until breakfast came. Ms. Janet hugged me and gave me my breakfast - along with two extra cinnamon buns - and slipped a few ballpoint pens onto the table, my favourite brand. She set down a second tray for Ariana, and with a whispered "happy birthday", she was gone.

I happily munched on my cinnamon buns while a line of birds on a telephone pole came to life on my desk. By the time I was done, Ariana was awake and had snatched her tray off the table, retreating into the corner to eat.

The day passed quickly, nothing really out of the ordinary. I had a before-dinner fight that night, but it was fairly boring. I did, on the other hand, come out of it soaked in blood without a scratch on myself.

I returned to my cell to find The Ringmaster sitting on the edge of my bed, a box in his hands.

The box was moving.

I froze inside the doorway. A moving box. Obviously there was a living being in the box.

But why? The only time he let me within ten feet of a living animal I was supposed to kill it. And considering this one was small enough to fit in a box it was most likely a baby, and The Ringmaster wasn't that heartless.

As these thoughts ran through my head, the box yipped.

A puppy. A fucking puppy.

The Ringmaster looked up at me, his eyes sparkling. "Isaac, I knew you would be here soon." He handed me the box, withdrawing another yip from within.

I carefully took the box from him, and set it on the bed. Slowly, I opened the top.

Inside squirmed a small gray puppy with white speckles. I didn't quite recognize the breed, but then again this was the first time I had been up close to a puppy in the past ten years. It looked up at me and barked, wagging its tail. Its tongue lolled from its mouth. Honestly, it was adorable.

"He's a Great Dane. You may name him whatever you wish," The Ringmaster wiggled his fingers in front of the puppy's muzzle, making it --him-- yip and bite playfully. "When he gets older we will train him to be your fighting partner. Name him something appropriate for the role." With that he got up and left, bodyguards trailing behind him.