Drip

Drip

The dripping sounds of water from the cracked rubble celling resonated inside the narrow, dirty cells. Molds were sticking in the crevices of the rotting stone walls. Liquids falling from the splits and holes of the ceiling came from the cells above that one could only hope as water and not urine or any unidentified substance while all sorts of murky little creatures ran to and about.

The pungent smell of sweat, blood, piss, and other odors that were unthinkable filled the air and made one suffocate and tear up.

But to the creatures locked and chained in these chambers, they already grew accustomed to it. The accommodation was the least of their worries for any moment they would be called upon to do battle in the Colosseum above –– battle to the death.

With these prisoners’ death tolling to hundreds each month, one had to wonder how the cells remained full.

But reality was, there were unlimited new prisoners each month. Prisoners came from all over the realms that the humans hunted and captured to be enslaved and put to battle for their amusement.

In one of these crampy, dirty rooms, a boy about seventeen years old was towering to almost six feet in height with arms chained against the wall, a black metal collar around his neck. This metal collar was worn by prisoners and slaves, causing paralysis to any wearer who dared to escape.

The boy was barely dressed in his loose pants and bare upper chest. His skin was littered with dried blood and dirt without tasting the pleasant feeling of the so-called bathe. His black hair styled with shades of violet was shorter on the back with few hairs falling on his forehead while his sculpted face was the only one that was kept clean.

Why was it kept clean? Because the boy was handsome and with his lean muscles and masculine physique, he was a feast for the eyes.

Not just this boy, all the prisoners that have beautiful faces were kept clean for the patrons, young and old alike. Everyone loved a good show between beautiful creatures. Even it was a battle to the death. Something was stimulating, with handsome males and attractive females covered in blood.

Not even the guards could resist their urges upon facing these mystifying beauties. Raping the prisoners was a common thing. Some patrons even paid a high price to have sex with the detainees, didn’t care if the prisoners came from the realms they loathed the most.

And for this boy, Ryu, he was a sought-after prize.

But luckily for him, the Owner of the Colosseum took a fancy to him.

It was an obsession.

Everyone knew that the Owner was not somebody to mess with, including the one thing that the Owner fancied the most –– Ryu.

For the Owner, he was not after Ryu for sex. In truth, he was only obsessed with Ryu during combat. Of course, no one knew that, so they stood clear from the boy nevertheless.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

The Owner’s obsession even gone far stretched into one of downright perversion just from watching Ryu in combat. From the way, Ryu fought each opponent. From his golden eyes that shone and slit when he was tearing his foe’s limbs. From the way he moved, flexing his muscles when he was butchering his opponent’s body.

Bathe in blood.

Bathe in deadly killing intent.

So wild and untamed.

It became the Owner’s lustful perverted secret.

Each time Ryu did battle, the Owner would watch, not leaving his eyes for a second as he gripped and rubbed his cock –– hard.

His ecstasy and pleasure exploded whenever Ryu slaughtered someone in a gruesome manner.

Ryu, however, was indifferent to all of this. His only thought was to kill. He was left in the orphanage when he was still a baby. After the humans discovered what he was, he was immediately auctioned and was bought by the Owner when he was but seven years old.

Since then, he lived for battles.

After ten years of fighting for his life, Ryu had grown accustomed to battle and savagery. His mentality was like that of a deranged beast. He didn’t know kindness. He didn’t know compassion. He didn’t know sadness. He didn’t know love. The only thing he knew –– was to kill.

Kill until the skin was torn from the bones.

Kill until the blood ran dry from the body.

Kill until the bones were crushed to dust.

Kill until no flesh remained.

He was feral.

He was deadly.

The deadliest in the entire prison.

“Ryu, you’re up.”

Ryu’s eyebrows twitched and he opened his eyes.

The guards gulped while their limbs trembled. After all these years, they still felt fear towards this young boy who was barely a man.

The guards’ fear was warranted as Ryu was indeed someone they should be warry about. One wrong move, depending on the boy’s mood, they could quickly lose their life, and the collar wouldn’t be of any use after their head rolled on the ground.

It happened before. One guard who was full of himself kicked Ryu on the stomach, and that guard disappeared in the annals that day. Not even the bones remained.

The two guards approached the young boy in careful steps and their shaking hands unshackled the chains. Ryu never once escaped nor attempted the idea, but they still need to be warry.

Ryu remained quiet with a blank face as his eyes were half-opened. To him, this was just another ordinary day. Kill, eat and go to sleep.

“Let’s go . . .”

Ryu sauntered on the familiar pathway and into the stairs towards the Colosseum while the guards were walking behind him, watching his every move.

When his feet touched the dirt, the metal gate closed behind him. Ryu took his time and walked towards the center where his opponent awaits.

Ryu didn’t mind the mind-blowing, ear-shattering cheers of the crowds as he sized his enemy. Long blonde hair that swayed with the wind. Grey, bloodshot eyes. Long elongated nose. Chopped pale lips. Skin that was creamy smooth, and snow-white, more white and pearly than any ordinary humans. And . . . long large pointy ears.

An Elf.

Or what Ryu had heard and known.

It was not the first that he would battle a she-elf.

Ryu’s eyes stayed focus on his opponent while the bystanders eyed the she-elf as if she was a piece of delicious meat. Even the she-elf’s disheveled hair, the scars and purple bruises that still look new loitering all over her body –– she was indeed a beauty to behold.

Typical of the Elfen race.

The elegant air surrounding the she-elf didn’t diminish. That meant that she was newly captured. Not yet broken ––but she would be.

Another evidence that would testify to her baptism in the Colosseum was the tantalizing blue blood dripping between her thighs.

The onlookers felt the surging heat inside their bodies. Some rubbed their cock as they whistled and howled degrading words while eying the she-elf’s appearance. Her plump breasts and pinkish nipples stood erect. Her delicate blonde curly hair, resting on her pelvic camouflaged her swollen, bloody sex beneath the sheer dress.

With only a thin fabric draping her, she might as well be naked.

This was, of course, also part of the entertainment. This added to the whole appeal — another source of enjoyment of seeing a hazy naked body beneath the thin cloth.

Even Ryu had loose, dirty pants with his loincloth visible under the scorching morning light. His upper body glistened in sweat, dripping down to the blatant thick dark curls on his pelvis down to the area that was hidden by the loincloth, tantalizing every female to licked their lips and rubbed their thighs to ease their aching sex.

Ryu didn’t give any thought to it, even though the aroma of lust permitted every corner of the Colosseum. To him, there was nothing differentiating men and women. All of them were made of the same flesh and bones. Tore it apart, and there’s nothing beautiful left.

Ryu walked barefooted and stopped just ten meters away from his opponent. His golden eyes glowed as his pupils turned to slit while his muscles flex, tense, ready to rip his opponent in half.

At first glance, Ryu could be considered human. All his features screamed human. Nothing would give it out . . . except when he was in battle mode. Golden eyes glowed in menace as his pupils turned to slit. Claws inched as it crawled out from his fingers and toes, canines elongated and pointy as he snarled, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

A halfbreed.

Human and beast.

Halfbreeds were not entirely rare. There were thousands of them. The fate of these creatures was far worse than any race in Septverden. No realms would ever taint their lineage and sheltered an abomination. They were outcast, scorned, enslaved, and tortured, banished in the forgotten lands –– a fate worse than death.

RIIIINNNGGG!!