Drakthar, still within chains, watches as Gwendolyn is taken from the extravagant hall.
“Where are you taking her?” He asks God, the one that is somehow magically restraining him.
“That is not a concern of yours. She will be treated tenderly, that is if she complies, which is quite more than what I can say for you,” God assures him in a threatening way.
“I am going to defeat you,” Drakthar boldly declares.
God just looks down at him and smirks, “That is amusing given your position. But I guess that is what makes you all the more intriguing”.
“By the way, I am going to have to have my men knock you out again. I can’t be seen escorting someone as insignificant as you. It would give off the wrong impression,” God warns him before Drakthar feels something injected into him, causing his vision to become blurry until it fades away entirely.
“Hey, wake up new guy,” what sounds like a far off voice tells Drakthar as he starts to come to. He sees a pale looking man with stringy black hair looking down at him.
“Who are you?” Drakthar asks as he sits up, getting a better look at his surroundings. He finds himself in a cell; the man above him is not the only person there. There are two more, one has short brunette hair and the other is much larger sporting a full set of armor compared to the other two’s ragged leather.
“The name’s Pravin. You can call me Prav for short, but I guess not many people actually take me up on that because Pravin isn’t that long of a name,” Pravin explains anxiously as Drakthar stands up next to him.
“Drakthar,” Drakthar extends his hand as he introduces himself.
“Oh, right,” Pravin notes as he takes his hand.
“What is this place?” Drakthar inquires, the cells filled with similarly looking raggedy men surrounding them.
“Well my friend this is the Pits, or this is where the fighters that feature in the Pits live. You are lucky my friend, you have been selected just as we have to dazzle the audience in our feats of strength and cunning,” Pravin over-embellishes the explanation.
“Okay, how do I get out?” Drakthar asks, the men around here don’t interest him, they all are too weak to put up a challenge. His time would be better spent fighting the likes of God or other strong men that might be under him.
“You can earn your way out… but that’s a little difficult. You’re going to need a lot of points if you want to do that,” Pravin laughs nervously after answering.
“Points?” Drakthar comments, thinking he speaks of it as some sort of currency.
“Yes, you do well, you earn points. With points, you can buy food, weapons, armor, different luxuries, and most importantly freedom. All of which range in price with freedom being the most expensive,” Pravin enlightens him on the system God has created.
“Okay, I will get out,” Drakthar declares confidently, knowing that if this is his competition that he will be victorious.
“Woah, hold on. I mean you look tough but look around everyone already has equipment. The start is always the toughest part to survive. Most newbies just die without getting anything to fight back with,” Pravin warns him, not wanting overconfidence to get the best of him.
“It won’t matter,” Drakthar doubles down, knowing that weapons and armor will make little difference when he is facing competition like this.
“You talk big for someone who has no idea what they are in for,” the larger one in the suit of full armor interjects, from the edge of the room.
He walks towards the two of them, making sure to emphasize how large he is within the suit of armor.
“You don’t understand the pits, so don’t sound so cocky you worm,” he continues.
“Stay out of it Trevain. You don’t know, this guy looks really strong, he might even give you trouble,” Pravin defends his newest cellmate.
Trevain takes another look at Drakthar and scoffs, “Huh, sure he will. Tomorrow we will see how his skin holds up against my sword”.
“That won’t matter, you could have one hundred swords and the finest armor and you would still lose,” Drakthar boldly informs him, ignoring any form of social hierarchy this place has.
Trevain’s eyes narrow, he reaches out towards Drakthar intending to show him why he has this suit of armor, “You will understand your place…” Trevain stops mid-sentence as Drakthar grabs a hold of his arm, he watches as the armor he was so proud of is crushed in an instant.
He looks up in fear at the man whose hand is causing the metal to dig into his skin, the sharper points created causing blood to start to flow and pool within the armor.
“Hey, no fighting! Keep it in the Pits you maggots!” A guard standing nearby starts to yell once he notices the confrontation.
Drakthar lets go of Trevain’s arm; he has nothing to prove to these weaklings. He finds an empty spot near the edge of the cell and sits down, knowing that the man he humiliated will be too scared to try again.
“Hey, you really stood up to Trevain back there that was pretty cool,” Pravin comments, having approached Drakthar with the other man with short hair. Drakthar chooses not to respond, thinking it doesn’t warrant much conversation given how weak Trevain is.
“Look, we wanted to tell you that you should join our group. You see there was a guy here… and well he died but he told us to stick together and all given the nature of the Pits. So what do you say Drakthar? Want to work with us?” Pravin offers, extending his hand.
Drakthar looks down at it, contemplating what he should do. Making an alliance with these people won’t help him in the Pits at all but it could be beneficial to have friends that understand and have lived in this system.
The old Drakthar would have decided to take his chances on his own, but this version of him decides differently, taking Pravin’s hand and shaking it.
“Okay, this is Lorens by the way. He’s on the quieter side,” Pravin introduces him to the other guy.
Pravin leans in a little closer and starts to whisper, moving his hand so it blocks Lorens’ view of it, “God kind of took his wife so he’s been a little gloomy. He’s trying to get enough points for her freedom and to get out himself”.
Drakthar’s eyes widen upon hearing that. He didn’t know there could be some way to liberate Gwendolyn as well using these points.
“How much is it to free someone else?” Drakthar asks, wishing to buy his friend’s freedom as well.
“Why? Wait don’t tell me… did he take your girl as well?” Pravin concludes based on Drakthar’s interest.
“No, she is my friend’s wife. But yes, I wish for her to be free as well,” Drakthar admits.
“Dammit. That makes our jobs that much harder then. Normally for your own freedom, it is five hundred points… but if you want to transfer points to another person they are cut in half. Seeing as the women he keeps cannot earn points like us that means it costs one thousand points to free them,” Pravin explains, letting Drakthar in on more about the Pits’ economy.
“That is fine, how many points do the two of you have?” Drakthar asks, looking to gauge how difficult getting one thousand and five hundred points could be.
“I have twenty right now… and Lorens has fifty. Trevain actually has the fifth most, he’s at two hundred,” Pravin informs him of where everyone in their cell stands.
Drakthar looks over at Trevain unimpressed, if someone like him can have two hundred then he will hit that mark in no time.
“You know… and I would never suggest killing others… but I kind of am. If you kill someone in the Pits you get half of their points… so after you get some points and buy weapons and armor we can go hunting after those at the top. It probably won’t be enough to get us all out but it will be a start,” Pravin quietly suggests, not wanting to be overheard by the others in the nearby cells.
“If you don’t kill people, how do you get points?” Drakthar asks, having assumed that was the only way.
“Surviving, if you live through a bout in the Pits you get two points. There are also beasts from the surrounding areas down there, if you participate in the killing of it then you split the points with the others. There are so many of us though that it usually only gets us one or two points in doing so,” Pravin notes, looking down at the ground as he continues to paint a bleak picture of their situation.
“Okay, I understand. I will get us the points to get out,” Drakthar assures the two of them, confident in his abilities under these conditions.
“No one does,” Lorens states, already having partially accepted his fate down here.
“Come on man that’s not true. The legend made it out,” Pravin disagrees, knowing there is exactly one man who has escaped the Pits before.
“Who is this man?” Drakthar inquires, thinking this person could actually be some sort of challenge unlike those he has seen down here so far.
“It’s more of a myth really, but apparently there was one man who made it out of these pits. He was like a mystery; no one ever knew his name,” Pravin explains the rumors.
“But that’s what he is right Pravin… just a myth. All we are doing is wasting our time until something kills us. You should know that by now you’ve been here long enough. Why do you think things change so quickly down here? It’s because no one lives longer than a few months,” Lorens disagrees, having been living in this harsh reality longer than the others.
Drakthar leans back against the bars, no matter how hopeless this man makes it sound this is all determined by strength, and that is one thing Drakthar has.
The next morning, Gwendolyn awakens; she notices the others still sleeping in the beds nearby, reminding her of her situation. She dejectedly gets out of bed, going into the other room so she has a clear space to think.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
As she closes the door quietly as to not wake the others, she sees a peculiar looking man staring back at her. He seems young, probably around her age if not a little younger, his hair an unnatural shade of dark blue.
“Gwendolyn I presume,” he asks, looking over at the unfamiliar woman who must be the new addition.
“Yes, that is my name, who are you?” She questions tentatively, wary of why this man was sent.
“My name is Lazaro, I’m here to help you,” Lazaro introduces himself with a bow. Gwendolyn eyes him suspiciously, not trusting the supposed help of someone she just met, especially in a place like this.
“Come on, don’t stand there so rigidly, come over in front of the mirror and take a seat,” Lazaro orders as he pulls out a chair in front of a vanity near the edge of the room.
“Why?” Gwendolyn asks, still wary of his intentions.
Lazaro sighs, walking over to the overly suspicious woman.
“Look, I’m the guy that makes you all look pretty for God, now can you let me do my job so I don’t get punished?” Lazaro candidly requests, not having the energy to deal with her hesitance.
“Oh, I see. Well, you can leave. I have no intention of doing anything with God so you will not be needed,” Gwendolyn dismisses him.
“Okay, I see we’re playing it this way,” Lazaro comments before grabbing Gwendolyn by the wrist, his strength for someone so small takes her by surprise.
She tries to break free, but his grasp is too strong. The thing is, he can’t pull her to the chair either, the tall woman much too large to drag with his strength alone.
“Come on, just get over here,” Lazaro insists as he strains while trying to pull her.
“No, I made myself clear. Now get out of here!” Gwendolyn starts to raise her voice at him as she stands firm. It is then that Finella appears from the door behind them.
“What is going on,” she asks, covering her mouth while she yawns.
“Gwendolyn here is refusing to let me do my job,” Lazaro explains in frustration.
“And Lazaro doesn’t understand that I don’t want anything to do with God so he will not be needed,” Gwendolyn counters; making sure Finella hears both sides.
“I see, well I don’t want anything to do with this,” Finella yawns again, turning around to retreat back into the room she was sleeping in.
“Dammit, will you just come on. We both don’t have enough time for you to do this right now,” Lazaro doesn’t give up, still trying to convince Gwendolyn to let him pretty her up.
“No! I am not doing anything with him! So just leave it!” Gwendolyn shouts back at him, trying to convey one last time how immovable she is on this.
Just as she is done yelling, God walks through the front, his dark red eyes meeting hers, “Now Gwendolyn that isn’t very nice. It makes me oh so sad to wake up and have this be the first thing I hear”.
“Lazaro, I see that she isn’t ready,” God observes, causing Lazaro to freeze up in terror.
“I apologize sir, she is giving me a bit of trouble. I was just in the process of trying to get her over to my station when you arrived,” Lazaro quickly defends himself, letting go of Gwendolyn’s wrist in the process.
“It’s okay Lazaro. I can tell you tried your best; we have a stubborn woman on our hands this time. You are no longer needed, she will have to do how she is,” God lets him off the hook, sensing the fear and deciding not to punish him this time.
Lazaro bows once before taking his leave, not wishing to remain in God’s presence a second longer than he has to.
“Now, I am going to need you to come along with me,” God tells Gwendolyn, extending his arm to her.
She doesn’t respond, she has nothing to say to him.
“I understand you do not wish to associate with me but this is merely an invitation to breakfast, it will be a better meal than anything you are going to get in here so I suggest you take this opportunity to enjoy yourself,” God explains, making it seem like what he is doing is a kindness.
Gwendolyn stays silent, remaining reticent in the face of God.
“I did not want to use force but it seems you have given me no choice,” he warns as she effortlessly lifts her and carries her out in front of him in both arms.
Gwendolyn starts to flail around wildly, attempting to break free of his arms. But the effort is fruitless, God much stronger than she anticipated, she remains locked in his arms as he carries her out of the room.
“Where did you get these pants? I know I didn’t give you a pair and if I did I would have made sure they fit, these are much too tight,” God observes as he holds her. Gwendolyn remains silent, she doesn’t intend to rat out Klara assuming it could somehow get her in trouble.
“Klara, I see. I will have to punish her later. It is rather cute how quickly you have forgotten that you cannot keep things from me. I can read minds remember? Your silence is pointless, so you might as well express your feelings with words, it makes me feel less invasive,” God suggests, knowing there is nothing she can do to keep her thoughts from him.
“Don’t punish Klara, she was just trying to help me feel comfortable,” Gwendolyn requests, deciding to respond after realizing the futility of remaining silent.
“Interesting, I see you have taken a liking to your new roommates. I will listen if you stop resisting and merely join me for breakfast. You are going to have to anyway but it would mean a lot if you weren’t struggling to get free the entire time,” God offers, making it seem like she has nothing to lose from accepting.
“Fine, you can put me down,” Gwendolyn agrees, despite how much she despises him she wouldn’t want anything to happen to Klara because of her.
“Of course you will have to return the pants to her once you get back. You will have opportunities to get some that fit you better,” God adds as he releases her, causing Gwendolyn to remember what Klara mentioned about how they get new things.
“Here we are,” God tells Gwendolyn, holding his arm out towards the table in front of them. Gwendolyn for the first time takes a look at where they are, a table on the sand, a beautiful beach surrounding it.
God pulls out a chair for her, which she sits down in, still sporting an angry glare despite having agreed to share breakfast with him.
“Now, I don’t know much about you and I am keen to learn what an extraordinary woman you are,” God starts off the conversation.
“I know you traveled through a portal to get here but why? I wouldn’t chance ending up in a different time just to have that experience,” God inquires, finding her circumstance rather peculiar.
“We were trapped, we feel under the sand into a place we couldn’t escape and for the record, we didn’t willingly go through the portal, we were forced through them,” Gwendolyn clarifies, feeling sick that she has to tell him all of this.
“I see, so that is why your husband wasn’t able to be here with you, such a shame,” God notes, his voice sounding sympathetic despite Gwendolyn knowing it is an act.
“Why don’t you tell me about him? Xander? That’s his name isn’t it?” God inquires, trying to get an understanding of what she is attracted to in a man. Initially, Gwendolyn doesn’t say anything, she knows she can’t keep things from this man but she doesn’t feel comfortable talking about her feelings with him either.
“I see, you want to keep those details private, it is only natural. But unfortunately for you, that is not a possibility here. So I suggest you start to tell me about him before I have to read your mind to find out myself,” God threatens, a devious grin appearing on his face, as he knows she has no choice.
“Read my mind if you have to. I am not telling you anything about him,” Gwendolyn declares, making him read her mind if he wants to learn anything.
“Fine, if you want to do things that way I will oblige. Now, what drew someone as gorgeous as you to a man like him?” God asks, trying to prompt her to think of an answer.
As much as Gwendolyn tries to resist, she cannot help but think of Xander, warmly remembering why she fell so deeply in love with him.
“I see, it's how he treated you. If you need a man that treated you well I can do more than suffice. You would have the entire package, I can be just as thoughtful and sweet as him while also being much more attractive,” God propositions, confidently claiming he can be better for her than Xander.
“You are not more attractive than he is,” Gwendolyn quickly counters, trying to knock his confidence down a peg.
“Now now Gwendolyn, we don’t have to lie to each other. You do doubt that I can be as thoughtful as he is. Well, I guess you could be right, but you see I don’t have the time to cater to your every need while I have so many things to run. While it might be fun, I am afraid I must treat you like the others. I can’t let them think I am giving you preferential treatment just because you are far more lovely than they are,” God attempts to flatter her.
“So, in fairness to the others, I must give you the same ultimatum I gave them. Tonight, you can spend the night with me and we can enjoy each other's company or I am afraid you will have to be punished,” God proposes, already knowing which she is going to choose.
“Go to hell,” Gwendolyn makes her decision. Despite this man's efforts, he is nothing but repulsive to her, the thought of them being together is almost enough to make her throw up the breakfast she just consumed.
“I understand. I see you have made your decision… for now. I am afraid you will have to meet Audra when you return. I hope she isn’t too hard on you,” God stands up from the table having gotten his answer.
“Goodbye Gwendolyn, I will see you later when we watch your friend Drakthar in the Pits this afternoon,” He bids her goodbye before walking off back towards the city. Gwendolyn almost thinks he left her alone so she can flee but two men show up and escort her back to her room.
“Hey Gwendolyn, how was it? Not too bad I hope,” Klara asks in a worried tone as she notices Gwendolyn return.
“He’s disgusting. What he does… never mind. Here take these back, he said he would punish you if you did this again,” Gwendolyn warns her as she hands Klara back the pair of pants she so kindly gave her.
“Sorry, and thank you. I know you must have done something or he definitely would have sent me to Audra,” Klara notes, grateful that Gwendolyn would go to such lengths for someone she just met.
“Someone speaking about me?” A voice asks as the door opens. A small woman, almost reminiscent of Lunette if not for the scar across her face and lack of glasses walks into the room. The second she does the rest of the women tense up, clearly a reaction to the fear instilled by this woman.
“Gwendolyn, I am Audra, come with me,” Audra makes it seem like she has a choice before two large men show up and forcibly take Gwendolyn from the room. “Where are you taking me?” Gwendolyn inquires as she tries to resist, squirming inside the giant arms of these men.
“Come on now, you knew this was coming. It was outlined many times for you. If you didn’t want to give up your body to God then you have to give it up to me… I feel like that was a little misleading. I’m not trying to fuck you, just torture you,” Audra explains in a very roundabout way.
Once they enter the room furthest to the back of the building on the ground floor, the men throw Gwendolyn down onto the stone.
“Lighter you idiots, he doesn’t want any scratches on this one,” Audra hisses at them, eyeing Gwendolyn’s knees to see if they were scraped at all.
Gwendolyn looks around the room, she thought there would be more involved but there is only a tub of water at the other end of the room. It only takes her mind a couple of seconds to determine how they are going to torture her.
“Alright, grab her again, let’s get started,” Audra orders, prompting the men to grab Gwendolyn and position her head so it is over the water.
“So, because you have been deemed attractive by his horniness I am now going to have to push your head underwater over and over again until you end that stubborn streak of yours, okay?” Audra explains, waiting for an answer from Gwendolyn like she asked a question.
She doesn’t get a response, just a tenacious glare from the woman she is about to torture. Audra sighs, hoping she could get the day off if Gwendolyn just gave in.
“Alright, dunk her,” she orders abruptly.
Gwendolyn’s head is forced under the water. She tries to get her hands to the edge of the tub to try and get leverage for her to pull her head out but the burly men that are pushing her head down are still restraining her arms.
Unable to get her hands where she wants them she starts to flail about, her legs kicking back, almost knocking Audra over as she doesn’t expect this sort of wild reaction. Most of the people she has tortured figure out they cannot escape and give in.
Gwendolyn comes to the same realization that she is at the mercy of her torturers. She ponders the inevitability of the situation, staring down at the white bottom of the tub as she starts to feel herself slipping.
In this moment she starts to see everything she cares about, Xander, Kali, her father, and her other friends. She recalls fond moments and the future she was unable to have with them. Not able to accept this ending she begins to suddenly struggle again, actually pushing back against her captors a little before they refocus and make sure she isn’t able to get above the water.
She continues fighting, doing so for everyone she cares about until the very end. Her eyes shut as her body goes limp, no longer able to stop herself from drowning.
“Pull her up,” Audra orders, noticing Gwendolyn is out. She stares down with a satisfied look as the two men start resuscitating the lifeless Gwendolyn.
Water ejects from Gwendolyn’s mouth, barely managing to spit up the last bit of it before breathing in, suddenly feeling the life come back to her. Audra goes over to her, standing so her presence is a menacing shadow looming over the soaked woman on the floor.
She dawns a sinister grin as she asks, “So, want to rethink your decision?”