Jonas knew that he had been drinking way too much wine, and he knew it was cut-off time when he had begun spilling embarrassing things about himself. Later that night, as he lay on the floor of his cage, he was red-cheeked as he considered Yuki’s question.

Did he have a dream? That was a difficult question to answer because since he had arrived in Hell, his only concern was finding his brother. However, he wondered what he'd do after he found Drake. Eternity wasn’t a concept that Jonas felt he was capable of processing, and in his youthful nineteen-year-old brain, he only cared about both the present and the closest moment of excitement. The closest moment of excitement for Jonas was probably the moment when he tried to kill Wolf, disbanded his gang, and usurped his top-five benefits.

In the fight pits, Jonas was distracted as he stared off into the distance, and his companions would repeatedly follow his gaze only to find that it led to the same location every time, the fight pit that Wolf was in.

It seemed that nothing was abnormal with Wolf and his gang, but Jonas could tell that they looked a bit bloodthirsty, and from his experience, they usually acted this way when they were planning on hurting someone.

“I think something is wrong with Wolf and his gang,” Jonas said out loud, which caused his crew to stop their sparring and take a look around.

“Are you sure you're not just being anxious?” Johnson asked.

“No,” said Ahmed, “I noticed it too. I can feel the killing intent.”

“How the fuck do you feel someone’s intent?” Pete sounded annoyed, “I’ve heard Wolf say that a million times, and yet I still can’t understand it.”

“It’s something you sense with your instincts,” Ahmed explained, “Like a sixth sense.”

“They’re going to kill someone, probably me,” Jonas couldn't be sure if it was him they were planning on killing, but it seemed like a reasonable deduction considering what Yuki had told him a few nights previous.

“Are you saying that it's time?" Johnson asked, but Jonas had no reply.

“We're not even sure if Jonas is their current target,” Simon said pointedly, “I think it’s best if we ignore our workout and stick together for a few hours until it passes.”

“We’ll have to separate,” Ralph said, “Not all of us sleep in the slave quarters. We've managed to get by because of Brow's assistance with the guards, but eventually, Wolf is going to come for me and Pete.”

“Well, fuck,” Simon looked calmer than he usually did, “The last thing we need is the wolves jumping either you or Pete, and Jonas nearly losing his head trying to rescue you, again,” this statement received nods of agreement from both Ahmed and Johnson.

“I understand,” Ralph conceded quickly, and he gave a warning expression toward Pete, telling him not to argue back. Pete swallowed whatever reservations he had and nodded his head. He wasn't going to say anything that would put Jonas at risk. Although they weren't best friends, he knew that he would've died if his former adversary hadn't taken pity on him.

“Ahmed,” said Jonas, “Do you have the feeling that their intent is directed towards Terry Coleman?” He nodded towards an unspectacular fighter that was sparring with a friend. Simon and Johnson both recognized that fighter as the person who had warned Jonas when Ralph had been jumped.

“Now that you mention it,” Ahmed gazed curiously at Terry, “He looks nervous, but I think he’s trying to hide it.”

“That’s what I got from him too,” said Jonas solemnly, “Why would Wolf have anything to do with Terry? He’s a pretty easy-going guy, after all.”

“No clue,” Ahmed shook his head, “Let’s just focus on sparring right now, and if anything changes, we’ll know for sure.”

“If you say so,” Jonas trusted the old man's judgment, and the six fighters continued to swap partners as they dodged, parried, blocked, and practiced hard-to-perform moves such as backflips, wall-running, and dropkicks. Their Sin Scars glowed splendidly, and all of them could use Sin in some capacity.

Terry Coleman’s demeanor didn’t improve throughout the day, and by the time sparring was over, he looked panicked and full of fear. Eventually, Jonas met eyes with him, and Terry nearly sped over at top speed. His face was full of sweat, and his body language showed that he was desperate.

“Jonas, could we talk? Please.”

“Sure,” said Jonas, “What’s going on, Terry, did you get in it with Wolf?” Terry quickly looked behind himself as he checked to make sure the old Canuck and his wolves were out of earshot.

“The thing is,” he said while licking his lips, “I don’t understand why, but they’ve been eyeing me down all day, and I’m scared that I’m being hunted.”

“But why?” Jonas looked curious, “You didn’t do anything to Wolf, and he rarely picks on other fighters for no reason.”

“He picked on you,” Johnson interrupted, but Jonas gave him a look.

“That's because Thomas put him up to it. Why would Wolf want you?”

“I think,” said Terry, “I think he’s pissed that I warned you about Ralph?” It was more of a question than a statement.

“Fuck,” said Jonas, and he was flooded with guilt. “I’m sorry about that, man.”

“No, no,” he held his hands out as he quickly shook his head, “It was my choice to warn you, but I think he thinks I’m with you guys.”

“Why would he think that?” Simon asked, “You don’t even care about gang politics."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“The wolves tried to recruit me, before I warned Jonas,” Terry brushed his buzz cut in an attempt to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

“You said no, clearly,” Jonas pointed out, “But still, that’s a bit petty for Wolf to want to kill you.”

“I know,” said Terry desperately, “Listen, I’ll join your crew if you protect me. I’m probably the weakest of all the fighters, but I'm still a fighter.”

“Obviously, you can stay with us,” Jonas didn’t consider throwing Terry to wolves at all, he had done him a huge solid by warning him about Ralph being jumped, and because of that, Ralph was still alive.

“Are we going to head to the gym soon?” Terry looked extremely relieved, “I can't skip workouts if I’m ever going to improve.”

“Well, Terry,” said Jonas, “We weren’t going to head there today because of certain reasons, but considering we’ve got your back, I guess it should be fine.”

“Are you sure, Jonas?” Ahmed looked a bit concerned. “There may be seven of us, but Wolf has at least fifteen fighters in his gang,” Jonas thought for a moment before nodding his head.

“That's not a big deal, I doubt Wolf will make his move as long as the two of us are there. Don’t forget, we’re both at his level now, whether he accepts it, or not.”

“Good!” Ralph boomed happily, he hated missing a workout almost as much as he hated hiding away from Wolf, and Pete nodded his head because he felt the same.

"Alright, Cracker Jack," Pete clapped Jonas on the back, "Hiding away really isn't your style, is it?" The crew laughed at the rude nickname, and even in the face of danger, they were still a raucous bunch.

“Well, let’s get to it,” Johnson cracked his neck, and their group of fighters marched after the departing crowd of fighters who needed their daily dose of pumping iron. Jonas led his group through the doors of the gym, and they found benches on the eastern side, which was farthest from Wolf and his crew.

Jonas took off his prison shirt and began stretching his muscles, and with one eye on Wolf, he made sure that there was nothing strange or out of place on the other side of the room. Occasionally, one or two of the wolves would look their way while hissing under their breath, but for the most part, Jonas considered it to be nothing more than gang posturing.

If it was true that the wolves wanted to kill Terry, it would be extremely difficult to protect him, considering that he slept in the barracks with most of Wolf's crew, but Jonas felt like he had an easy solution to the problem.

“Terry,” he said as he finished pumping his second set, “Both Ralph and Pete are semi-protected in the barracks because of Brow, however, once you're under my protection you'll be making an enemy of Wolf, for sure."

"I'm not worried about that at all. I'm going to be his enemy, one way or another, at least this way I have a fighting chance. Thanks, Jonas," Terry looked nervous, his eyes were slightly watered, and his breathing was haggard. All in all, he looked like someone in a desperate strait that had been thrown a life-saving measure.

“Not a problem, bro,” said Jonas, “Let me take care of Wolf, and you just worry about keeping yourself alive, okay?”

“I thought I was a goner once the wolves started eyeing me down, my entire body was in a state of dread," Jonas often dealt with anxiety, he understood the feeling.

“We slaves need to stick together because fucking bullies like Wolf will try to control us through fear. We’ll show him that we aren’t scared.”

“Well said,” Johnson interrupted, “We might need to put that to the test, Wolf’s on his way over,” and Jonas’ heart skipped a beat, he had only taken his eyes off his enemy for just a moment. Sure enough, a graying manly man wearing a black tank top was slowly strutting towards them like an alpha, and the polite expression on his face couldn’t hide his ill intent because he was surrounded by a dozen blood-crazed fighters who had murder written on their faces. Both Jonas and Ahmed stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder, while both Ralph and Pete took the left, and both Simon and Johnson went to the right.

Wolf continued his approach, his footsteps in their black-buckled boots were heavy, and because the rest of the room had gone so silent, it sounded strange hearing them echo off the walls. Jonas stared into his cold eyes, and he saw a glimmer of resolution within them.

“How’s it going, bud?” Wolf said as he used a massive paw to scratch his graying five o’clock shadow.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Jonas rolled his eyes, “What do you want?”

“Always quick to bark,” said Wolf, “Never quick to bite.”

“Did you walk over here, just to give me dog metaphors?” Jonas looked impatient, “How about you walk your old ass back to your side of the gym, I've got nothing to say to you.”

“You know, Jonas,” Wolf crossed his massive arms in front of his chest.

“What do I know, Adam?” Jonas spoke Wolf’s real name for the first time, but it didn’t seem to shock the old dog.

“So, that bitch Yuki has been yapping about me,” Wolf chuckled, “Maybe if she spent more time fighting, and less time spreading her legs for a pup like you, she could be worth a damn,” and a bout of mean-spirited laughter echoed through the gym.

Jonas felt a sudden surge of rage grow in his stomach, but he quickly swallowed it down and turned it into Pride. He imagined himself standing up for his woman, and his Sin Scars began to glow.

“She’s twice the fighter you are,” began Jonas, “You couldn't hold a fucking candle to her talent. Seriously, why the jealousy?"

“She’s a sewer rat who's done nothing but fuck her way to the top, like a bitch in heat,” Wolf’s words were venomous, and Jonas felt his blood run cold, but he didn't want to lose his composure.

“Ah,” Jonas acted as if he had come to a sudden realization, “You have a little crush on her. Be careful, Wolf, your sin is Wrath, not Envy.”

“Care to know how I knew about your little late-night escapades that led to your budding romance?”

“Not really,” said Jonas with a frown, “We already know you’re a peeping Tom,” and this time his crew began to laugh.

“Not much to peep on, I’m afraid,” said Wolf, trying to keep momentum, “Thirty seconds of action isn’t worth my time.”

“You act like that's a bad thing,” Jonas was quick to the punch, “Your mom was completely happy with thirty seconds of action.”

“That makes sense,” Wolf said, “She always enjoyed pussies with daddy issues.”

“Wait, does that mean you were fucking her too?” Laughter and taunts rained from all sides of the gathering, it picked up in tempo until Wolf held up his paw and the crowd went silent.

“You’re good with your words,” Wolf chuckled, “I can see why so many people have started following you,” his voice carried heavy signs of sarcasm as he looked at the handful of odd fighters that stood by Jonas. "Though someone with your talent could do better than two slaves, a Jew, and my sloppy seconds," Both Ralph and Pete's Sin Scars glowed brightly, they didn't take well to being called sloppy seconds. Ahmed wouldn't let such a tame provocation bother him, but Jonas didn't like the tone that Wolf had used.

“Oh, I didn’t use my charm to convince them to follow me. No, I told them I was headed to your mom's house, and they couldn't wait to join me, gangbang, if you know what I mean.”

“Maybe you should spend less time with my mother, and more time watching your back,” and just as Jonas was planning the perfect response, he felt excruciating pain, like someone had taken hold of his spine and was trying to tear it out. He reached behind himself for the source and was shocked to find that there was a wet hole in his back where his kidney would be. His hand was covered in blood, someone had stabbed him, but who had it been?

Jonas turned his head and noticed that Terry's face was colorless, he had the eyes of a corpse, and in his hand was a six-inch shank that was drenched in scarlet.

"Blood in, blood out," Terry whispered with a shaky voice. Jonas experienced a few moments of pure disbelief before he could reply.

“Did you just fucking stab me?”