“The first step to killing a monster is assessing its magical origins. Figure out what type it is and respond appropriately.”

- Hunter handbook (4th edition)

“For mother,” I heard Cassian intone quietly to his brother near the entrance to the academy.

“For mother,” Gavriel repeated. They clasped each other’s shoulders for a second and touched foreheads. Then, with a heavy inhale, they entered the gates.

“Please, let me survive,” another woman prayed before entering. I walked past them all, hand resting on the hilt of my hunting dagger. I picked up a mantra that only brought me a modicum of comfort.

“If Kaelin did it, so can I. If Kaelin did it, so can I,” I repeated under my breath as the only other sounds in the tunnel were those of shuffling boots against dirt.

“Move it, runt,” a deep and grating voice called out right before he shoved me against the tunnel walls. The air in my lungs was knocked out of me and I fell to the ground in a gasp. The impact itself was made worse by the fact that my neck was both jarred and scraped by the rude gesture.

I watched the looming form of a tall and lean elf sneer back at me, his white teeth gleaming faintly in the everglow lamplight. His skin was pale and smooth and his narrow face was framed by light blonde strands tied back in a braid.

“I swear, the next person who shoves me is going to get a knife to the gut,” I vowed to the darkness.

It heard me.

I felt a cold tingle settle along my skin for the briefest moment, but then it was gone just as quickly. I got to my feet and jogged to catch up with the others. Ahead, a second iron gate barred us from a clearing lit up by the rising sun. All I could see through the crowd was hard-packed dirt and another large gate on the opposite side. The man in the black Orion uniform tapped more runes and it slowly lifted from the ground. Sharpened spikes lined the bottom of this one, and a few of them were stained red and purple.

That can’t be good, I thought unhappily. I got a sour taste in the back of my mouth as the iron gate finished rumbling up into the ceiling. The other prospects filed into the large clearing, and I blinked away at the sudden brightness of our surroundings. I rotated slowly, taking in where we were. Horror and realization sank in equal measure down the bottom of my gut. I knew exactly where we were.

“SURVIVE!” The guide through the tunnel yelled from far ahead of us.

He was now atop one of the walls near a podium set into the engraved stone. How he had traversed the distance was a mystery to me, and I barely had time to see him disappear down a hallway set above the walls that enclosed us.

Behind us, the iron gate closed right as four others opened. We were in an oblong expanse of light brown dirt, enchanted walls covering the perimeter. Surrounding us were a total of five gates set into the warded stone, including the one we just exited. The other four were set in periodic intervals around what I immediately recognized as an arena.

We were in the hunter’s colosseum.

“Oh, shit!” I heard a young dwarf ahead of me screech. A distant roar vibrated the stones around us, chorused by several growls and hisses. The unnatural cacophony was accentuated by the heavy thud of our iron gate slamming into place behind us as the others finished their ascent.

I gazed around frantically for options. The stands that rose up far above us were largely empty, though a smattering of humans, elves, and dwarves in hunter uniforms watched us like aloof deities. Most of them held thin wooden tablets and writing utensils. I caught hints of parchments attached to their boards, and my stomach sank.

They won’t help. They’re probably here to judge us, or make sure whatever made those noises doesn't escape.

I caught sight of a few weapon’s racks, but I was too late. Several others in our disorganized group sprinted for them and picked them clean. Fights broke out as people fought over the best weapons at hand, while others prepared what items they had with them.

My breathing quickened. Footsteps that could’ve shaken a forest padded against dirt somewhere in a nearby tunnel. My hands start to shake. The dagger in my grip suddenly felt incredibly small.

The first thing I glimpsed was a snout. It was pink with fleshy tendrils that danced in the air. Teeth the size of my arm were exposed behind the curled lip of whatever monstrosity this was. From another darkened corridor, two tentacles grasped the sides of the walls. They were lined with thin purple spines that glistened in the light. Gasps and screams arose from around the arena.

I backed up against the iron gate. I was not ready for this.

“How did Kaelin even survive this?” I asked the silent gods in their graves.

“What in the seven hells is that thing?!” Someone from the crowd shouted. No one had time to answer as the final monsters entered the large arena. The long-snouted creature appeared first. It was a sickly green color with three pairs of eyes set into its narrow skull. Along its furry back were giant pink tendrils that snapped and whipped through the air in a dizzying display of ferocity. It let out a howl that grated against my soul.

I let out a low whistle and glanced down at my hand in dismay. What was a Coldor’s-cursed dagger going to do against something like that?!

The tentacles of the second monster were joined by its central body. Eleven other appendages joined the array, and purple spines shot through the air with blinding speed. Three people fell to the barrage within seconds, and pandemonium broke.

“Everyone, take the Hazeclaw on the right!” One of the men yelled. To my surprise, it was Cassian. Several others heeded the call and they notched arrows against the green-furred beast who snarled menacingly at us. I adjusted the grip on my dagger, knowing it was going to be useless in this fight. I wiped at my eyes and steeled my nerves.

I am not going down like this, I vowed in my heart. I started toward Cassian and Gavriel’s group right as the final two monsters reared their ugly heads.

“Gods damn it!” Gavriel exclaimed as he adjusted his aim from what was apparently the Hazeclaw and at the new arrivals. Two panther-like creatures slurked from the shadows like the darkness was reluctant to give them up. Their bodies were smooth and I struggled to focus my vision on them. It was like the world was telling me to just ignore those two, but Gav’s terrified eyes forced me to push through. The air shimmered and one of them knelt as it prepared to pounce.

“Fire on that Gloomstalker! NOW!!!” Gav screamed. Arrows from throughout the arena cut through the stale air. Several missed as the shadowy feline nimbly dodged back. Others hit and the creature screeched in an octave I could barely register. Shadows coalesced around its form and I felt a sudden pang of danger. The sun seemed to darken in the sky and I immediately lost sight of the second monster.

The world around me shivered and I dove for the ground. Shadowy darts thinner than parchment shot in a dozen directions at once. Limbs were cut cleanly off from more than a dozen combatants, and those were the lucky ones. One man near me screamed as his right arm was sliced cleanly off at the elbow. He wore decadent armor that seemed more show than utility. Before he could recover, the howling Gloomstalker pounced in a blur and cleanly bit through the golden chainmail that circled his neck.

I backed up, determined not to be the next snack of that speedy devil.

I scrambled to my feet as more arrows took up the attention of this deadly monster. I rushed away from the thickest parts of the massacre, desperately trying to figure out what I should do.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Survive.

The word slammed into me like a blacksmith’s hammer.

He didn’t say kill. He said survive.

Purpose made my limbs return to life. I glanced around, my mind working in overdrive as I assessed the situation. A plan started to form in my mind, and I rushed to see it done before the accursed situation took a turn from the worst to the impossible.

I watched as the Hazeclaw ripped into over a dozen fighters with ease. One of its pink tendrils wrapped around a girl’s ankle from the prince’s entourage and snapped the bone like it was a twig. Another of its claws ripped through her body like paper below a razor edge. A brief ward shimmered to life between her and the jagged tip of the monster’s paw, but it simply adjusted its weight and the barrier shattered.

Her screams died as quickly as she did.

Two warriors carried a glowing yellow rope between them and they used the Hazeclaw’s brief victory to rush its forelegs. It bucked at them, but they jumped with magically enhanced momentum, wrapping up the creature’s limbs with incredible proficiency. The group moved as one, and I saw smoke pour from where the golden rope made contact with the monster. A foul stench of burning flesh rose through the air.

I didn’t have any more time to observe as motion in my peripheral had me bending over backward. Black fur filled the space I just vacated. I dove for the ground and performed a sloppy roll, but I managed to return to my feet. I stumbled toward where the other Gloomstalker had been feasting, dodging other warriors as they fought or ran in terror.

I looked down to see the ornate gauntlet from that noble earlier. I picked it up and something mangled dropped out of it. Bile rose to my throat, but I did my best to ignore it and check the runes.

Every metallic plate of the finely crafted item was intact. I recognized the runes for structural reinforcement, as well as a dozen others I was fairly certain had something to do with force and damage reduction.

More terrified wails.

I was out of time.

Before I could consider what I was doing, I snatched the gauntlet and put it onto my right hand.

I whirled right as a tentacle snaked under the legs of Gavriel. It cut through his leather armor like it wasn’t even there. Purple spines dug into his leg and chest as his cry of pain shifted into convulsions on the ground. A streak of blood was left in his wake as the disgusting creature dragged him toward its gaping maw.

I needed to move. I located my quarry and rushed in that direction. The Gloomstalker was on another warrior now, gouging out her shoulder with feral snarls while the female dwarf screamed in agony.

“This had better work,” I demanded. With a squeeze of the gauntlet, runes burst to life across the enchanted armor piece. I didn’t know which was which, so I just chose one at random. I pressed down on it with my thumb where it was etched into one of the joints of my index finger’s armor. Then, before I could regret my pitiful existence, I rushed the beast as it fed.

I punched at the beast right as I reached it. Even bent down, it was still slightly above waist high for me. A faint whirring sound echoed from the device on my arm before a burst of condensed air pressure shot forward. It hit the beast right in the side where its muscular hide met its hind legs. The dark hunter was thrown off its prey with a mighty howl. Its lithe body slammed into the walls of the arena, and a semi-transparent barrier shimmered into existence for a brief moment before the monster slid off it. It lay there for a moment, and I felt a wave of euphoria course through my bones.

That went better than expected.

But my victory was short-lived. It rose and growled in fury. With lumbering steps, it began to prowl toward me. All my elation soured into desperate focus as my plan reached its final stage.

Okay. I have your attention. Now for the stupid part.

“Come get me, you oversized rug! You’re slower than my aunt Greta, and she’s dead!” I yelled at the beast, unafraid to use my mother’s sister in vain like this. That woman could haunt hell itself back onto the straight and narrow. The Gloomstalker hissed between its serrated fangs and quickened its pace.

“Well, shÿnka,” I cursed in elvish. It meant ‘I just spat on my own grave,’ and I found it oddly fitting as an incarnation of shadow and death decided I would be its next chew toy.

I ran. It followed. I wove around the screaming and fighting, the predator growing closer with each stride.

Three tentacles danced in the air ahead of me as two of its bulbous eyes locked onto my mad sprint toward its meal. Gavriel continued to convulse wildly in its suctioned grip, the boy’s agonious screams useless as he approached the creature’s salivating maw. One appendage speared down at me but I dodged to the right a heartbeat before it would have impaled me. I tripped over something wet and warm, but I didn’t have time to register what it was.

I regained my balance and rushed toward my next target. More screams split the air in this bloody mess of a fight. I could barely breathe as my body demanded to flee. To find a dark corner and wait this nightmare out.

I didn’t listen.

I knew that if I hid, if I gave into the fear, those cold assessors above us would mark me down as a coward. I couldn’t let that happen.

Another tentacle tried to hit me from the side, but I dove and slid along the dirt. I was too slow, however, and a part of its powerful limb clipped me across the side of my head. I fell to the ground with a wet thud.

The sky above me twisted dangerously as my vision swam in ten different directions. I groaned, knowing every moment I remained still increased the chances I would end up like the prone forms strewn across the arena. Red liquid mixed with the kicked up dirt and the stench of death permeated every orifice of my reality. A horrific resignation started to creep into the back of my mind.

We were all going to die.

An ungodly howl of pleasure pierced the air and I scrambled to my feet. The motion sent a cold wave of disorientation through the back of my eyes, but I managed to stay upright. I scanned behind me and saw a dark blur race toward my new location. It ignored the other combatants on the field, going so far as to shove them aside with its meaty shoulders. The tentacled monster ahead opposite me was busy fending off six warriors, all using various enchantments to strike it. Its back was turned to me.

“I will not die today,” I spat out. I clenched my fists and was briefly startled as light started to glow along the gauntlet. I started to run again. It was painful and jarring, but I pushed through.

They said survive, so that’s what I would do.

A deep, almost primordial, roar escaped my lips. The creature turned right as I reached it. Tentacles swished toward my slight form, but they didn’t have the mobility to do more than bump me off my course by a bit. It didn’t matter. My hunter had arrived, and it pounced. I dove and landed hard on the ground. I bit my tongue but ignored the hot drip of blood that exited my mouth as black fur collided with a mass of bulbous flesh and tentacled arms above my position. The two beasts roared in surprise and rage at the intrusion of the other in its fight. I crawled away from the sudden mess of limbs and claws as the two beasts fought each other.

Cheers arose from those near me, but I didn’t pay them any mind. My attention was focused solely on the two monsters ripping each other apart.

A figure rushed up to stand next to me. It was the tiefling.

“You did this?” He demanded, his voice an odd mixture of butter and steel. His golden irises glinted in the sunlight, and I found it hard to formulate a proper response.

“Uhh,” I tried to get out, but nothing intelligent was forthcoming. Movement caught our attention, and we both watched in dumbfounded awe as the tentacled behemoth ripped the Gloomstalker in half. It threw both pieces with such violent glee that the two ends smacked against the two opposing walls of the arena. Two of its eyes were gouged and bled profusely, but one of its remaining good ones trained onto me. Panic threatened to overwhelm me, and I noticed how many of the other remaining survivors backed up from that gaze.

But it wasn’t intent on them. Its murderous glare was for me and me alone. So I did the only thing that came to mind. I punched the tiefling in the small of his back with my gauntleted fist. He yelped in shock right as a pulse of kinetic energy propelled him like a cannonball toward the ugly beast. I didn’t wait to see what he would do and started to run toward the farthest arena wall.

My lungs were on fire as I reached the other end where a surprising amount of other fighters were clumped. The green-furred beast Gavriel had called a Hazeclaw was tied up with magical cords I recognized from earlier. The only beast that remained was the monstrosity set on fileting me. I gawked as it neared. It was bruised and mangled, but it pressed on.

Fifty feet.

Twenty feet.

I gathered my courage and held up my gauntlet, though I had no illusions that it would help me in this fight.

Ten feet.

A tentacle snaked along the ground and reached toward me. I set my feet and prepared to slam down on it with all of my might. Right as it was just a foot away, the limb seized like electricity coursed through it. It clipped the edge of my muddy boot with a squelch before it writhed backward. My gaze drifted along the spine-riddled appendage to the meaty core of the monster.

There, atop its purplish flesh stood a lone warrior in a tattered cloak. His blue skin with golden etchings practically drank in the sun peaking over the arena’s high walls. A dagger made of bone and red runes was nestled in the root of thick black veins that spread from the root like ivy. Within seconds, the beast succumbed to the wound, and the tiefling gingerly procured the dagger.

He slid off the creature and beelined for me. Hatred and fury blazed in those golden eyes, an eerie reflection of the expression of the one the monster he just felled had offered me just moments before.

“You—” he said, pointing at my chest. Before he could spout what I was sure was going to be wild accusations and violent curses, a voice boomed out.

“Combatants! The entrance exam has officially finished! Seek out medical attention and gather by the front steps of the Academy in thirty minutes! Staff members will see you out of the arena now.” With those words, a dozen men and women in black uniforms dropped from the lip of the field and began to efficiently gather the wounded and other survivors from off the field. It was only then that the accumulative pain that coursed through my body caught up with me and I, like a true warrior of old, collapsed to the arena floor in an unconscious heap.