667 staggered to his feet, riddled with bullets. But just as he did, a guard moved behind him and sent a bullet straight through his head. 140 never heard the shot that came for him. He raised his weapon, ready to strike Master, when another guard fired a bullet into the back of his skull. 140’s body stiffened as his skull splintered, and his body collapsed on the row of chairs beneath him.

The cacophony of fearful voices and the crowd’s screams were nothing compared to the roars pouring from my throat. The guards moved quickly, rounding up the crowd. Master’s spectators were forced back toward their seats. The head guard appeared seconds later with a mass of chiri. He hit them with batons as he commanded them to retrieve the slain bodies and remove them from the ring.

But my eyes stayed locked on Master as he released 152 to dust off his jacket like nothing had even happened. 152 was shaking, white in pallor as she swayed faintly on the spot.

Rushing down to the middle of the pit, Master held up his hands as his guards raised their guns high and forced the shaken crowd to listen. When they did, Master spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for that small accident.” He forced a smile that I could see straight through and said, “This is the Blood Pit. It is a death ring. Occasionally the fighters forget their place.”

He tried to speak again, but I clanged my blades louder on the bars, pacing back and forth as I shouted to let me the fuck out. Master didn’t look back at me. He continued talking, informing the crowd there would be a slight break before the final match: mine.

Movement from behind me made me turn, and I saw several guards at the cell door. “Shut the hell up!” one snarled, but that only poured fuel on my fury.

Clutching my blades, I charged the door. The guards jumped back, their guns held high. One of them held an unfamiliar gun toward my chest. When I backed away to charge again, something shot out from the gun and lodged inside my chest. I looked down to see that a small pellet had hit my skin. I looked back up, incensed at being shot. I moved my feet so I could lean and strike out at the guard, but my legs were suddenly leaden and my vision began to blur.

“Direct hit!” one of them shouted, as the world flipped to the side and I staggered until I hit the wall of the cell. I heard the sound of the lock sliding open. I saw the blur of several guards dressed in black filling the cell. Hands grabbed at my arms and dragged me from the cell and out into the hallway. My feet tried to find purchase on the sand beneath me, but my muscles struggled to work.

The guards dropped me to the floor. I hit the floor with a thud and blinked my eyes. My vision cleared some, but my movements were delayed, my limbs moving a second later than when I’d ordered them to.

The guards circled me, guns raised. I managed to push myself to a sitting position, just as two feet came into view. Two feet wearing black shoes.

It belatedly sank into my mind who those feet belonged to, as they struck out, slamming into my ribs. I fell to the sand, the coarse grains flicking inside my mouth. I spat out the sand and tried to sit up, but as I did, those feet kicked across my face. The taste of blood burst onto my tongue.

“You pathetic pieces of shit!” a voice snarled down to where I lay. It was Master’s voice. Fingers gripped my hair and ripped back my head. Master’s face swam in and out of focus as he glared at my face. “You all thought you could revolt?” he snapped lowly. “You thought you could best me in my own fucking pit?”

I tried to tell him to fuck off. That he dared hurt 152, dared put her in his fucking way, but nothing came out. Master’s hands let go of my head. It wanted to flop to the floor, but I fought to keep it held high. Master laughed down at where I lay, drugged and losing strength. “You think you can fight?” he asked sardonically. Master then looked at the guards. “Get the chiri to finish cleaning the stands and pit quickly.” He kicked me on the ground, then said, “Then get him into the tunnel. He will fight. And tonight, he will finally die.”

Master walked away and I lay on the hard sandy floor replaying his words in my head. Then get him into the tunnel. He will fight. And tonight, he will finally die … 152’s terrified face blasted to the front of my mind. Even drugged, I pushed my hands onto the floor and forced myself to sit up. My arms shook with the strain, but I held on as I saw 152 screaming when Master pushed her in front of him as 667 and 140 charged. Anger swirled in my stomach. I reached out my hands, feeling my blades lying beside me. Wrapping my hands around the handles, I felt better knowing I held cold steel in my hands. I had fought with these Kindjals for so long that I prayed my body would remember how to fight.

I had to make it to the final. I had to live for 152.

Moving my legs, I managed to push myself to stand, swaying as my legs almost gave way. I gritted my teeth as my head swam. Snickering and laugher rang out around me. The guards jeered as I stood, their voices sounding like tinny bells in my ears.

A whistle sounded from somewhere far away, and a hand was pushing me forward as I stumbled until I reached a tunnel. The tunnel was dark. My vision pulsed and shimmered with black spots when the light at the end scalded my eyes.

“Go!” a voice commanded. I kept my female’s face in my mind as I pushed my leaden feet forward. My shoulders banged off the walls as I staggered into the pit. The crowd was quiet when I walked through. I lifted my head, but the spectators were a blurred line in the darkness.

I tried to search for her, but I couldn’t pin her down. I stilled, trying to listen to my opponent. I heard it late, but I heard it. The grunt of someone lifting something heavy. A light breeze bristled at the back of my head and I ducked, just as what looked like chain swung where my head had just been. Holding my Kindjals, I turned and swung, feeling the shift in weight as I connected with something. I knew I had hit my opponent, but I hadn’t struck him deeply enough.

I shook my head as I stumbled back a few steps. I blinked away the fuzziness in my eyes just in time to see a tall male running toward me, chain circling above his head, something round attached to the end.

I dived to the ground as the ball on the end of the chain smashed into the sand beside my head. I kicked out my leg as the fighter passed, bringing the tall male to the ground. My legs weren’t strong enough to hold me up. I needed to take this kill to the floor. It was my only chance.

The crowd’s volume increased. Shifting to my knees, I searched around me. I couldn’t place where my opponent was. Suddenly, a thick chain around my throat cut off my breathing. Dropping my blades, I reached up and tried to pull it away, but my opponent’s grip was too tight. I clawed at his hands, forcing my fingers to work, but he didn’t move. Praying it would work, I leaned forward. With a sudden lift, I rammed the back of my head into what I hoped was his nose.