The Street Rat And The Alpha

18

Maddy awoke to find herself in a stone cell in brown leather clothes that appeared dirty and worn out. They had probably been worn a hundred times before her.

Chains grasped at her wrists and ankles. Betrayal hurt. A lot. She felt as if a knife had stabbed into her back. The wounds were still fresh and blood was pouring in the form of tears.

Her fists clenched in anger. She had been too trusting. Just days of being pampered in a castle has made her soft and had already begun to erode her defenses.

She should have expected such things to happen to her. Trusting people always failed. Each and every time.

She had to do better. Be better. But it was too late. She knew exactly where she was, the only place a girl like her would be after being captured the Arena. She was going to have to fight for her life.

She looked around her cell to see skeletons and empty chains. So some humans died before the arena. The sight before her was in no way motivational or positive. All it did was remind her why she needed to win whatever fight she was forced to compete in.

She knew if she wanted to win she would have to be ruthless. She would have to kill. She had never killed in her life. She doubted that it would be too hard when it was her life or theirs and when the need for self preservation came to the fore.

She would do what it took to survive. She was not and would never be the damsel in distress. She was sure of it. She was her own woman.

She felt her fists clench as the cell opened. She was already going to fight. How horrible but it meant it would be over sooner than later.

"They paid a'lot for this lil' one to go up soon as possible. Remember to put her up against some of the experienced fighters," a plump man shouted orders at a man in armour who was walking into her cell.

Maddy stared forward blankly.

That was just peachy. They were actually aiming to kill her. To kill her and make it look like an accident.

The little voice in her heart was sure that the king would save her. He would never let her get hurt.

The hope of the imaginary voice was sickening to her.

She knew better. She knew the voice was wrong. She had hoped and prayed to be saved as a child on the streets. A child who woke up abandoned one morning, without anyone.

There was only one person in life that you could depend on— yourself.

That was her motto. The motto of the streets. Of the world.

Her eyes were narrowed as she was led through an arch.

Light shone through, blinding her before she stood before a mass of people. A crowd in an arena.

It was huge and magnificent. Beautiful even. Stone arches with ivy vines, high seats in layers going up and up and up. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before.

Her eyes lowered and she looked around. Three men and a woman. All human. All armed. Whilst she had nothing.

How was it fair— oh wait it was not.

First timers never got weapons or so she had heard.

The crowd loved the blood of the humans. The newbie was practically a sacrificial lamb.

She was going to die.

"Sorry to kill ya sweetheart. You look so pretty but a pretty face is not worth my life. Hope you understand," the woman said.