The wagon containing Torbjørn and Ilioc raced down street after street with all the buildings around them looking the same. This part of Durkan was obviously an industrial port built for the movement of large items and factory production. Houses and workplaces were crammed together so no time would be wasted in the production line. Soon the streets widened out and the buildings around them became lower. They passed a few which were clearly institutions with high fences and training equipment. The men inside the institutions were not that of any army nor were they any kind of hunter. These were institutions for children, training for the day that they would be able to take down threats on their own. To their left rose a high wall. The wagon slowed and posters could be seen attached to the wall advertising fighting events.
They came to the end of the wall and a circular shaped building came into view. At its frontage was a set of large gates at the sides of which lay two dim lanterns (at least dim in the bright sunlight), and around the side was a metal gate. It was pulled open for the wagon and it jolted as it entered the enclosed space before it turned a long sweeping corner which seemed to skirt around the whole building. The road which they were on descended down a gentle slope and soon the road became darker as the number of lanterns on each wall decreased. The wagon slowed to a complete stop and another gate was opened for them, this one was clearly a lot heavier than the previous one. Several men came round to the back of the wagon where they ordered Ilioc and Torbjørn to step off the wagon and go through the gate. Still weak from the poison flowing around their bloodstream, they did as they were told. They became aware of a buzzing sound around them, unlike that of any bug, yet it was loud and vivid. Torbjørn glanced at the men and caught sight of something they were holding. It was a long rod that extended downwards and from which blue streaks of electricity jumped between the rod and the ground. They passed through the gate and electricity seemed to be buzzing around the gate as well, a loud sharp hum which both scared and enticed Torbjørn.
The tunnel they found themselves in was almost pitch black. The horrific smell of dirt, sweat and blood all mingled together hit them like a wall. The air itself was heavy and humid as though something was lying upon the ceiling creating a seal between them and the world above. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cells around them became clear. Row upon row stretched far beyond their line of sight and in each one dark shapes lingered. Each different, each agitated and each one was hungry. Low growls and high pitched wails could be heard in the darkness as Torbjørn and Ilioc were led to what they concluded would be their cell. The cell they were thrown into was close to a wide area which was lain with sawdust and a large table in the centre of it. Upon entering the cell the most prominent feature was a single beam of sunlight which shone in. Outside out the window, sand could be seen and the hum of electricity could be heard, but nothing more could be gained beyond that. They heard the movement of cell doors, then of a piston moving and the grinding of stone. Outside their small window came a roar of a crowd mixed with cheers and groans. This continued for several minutes before the noise calmed and from outside they heard a scream that came from no living creature. It was twisted, broken and sounded like the throat had been pulled out of the terror that had produced it. Many chaotic noises followed, but all that Ilioc and Torbjørn could do was listen and imagine what monstrosity had made that mutilated sound.
Suddenly a loud shudder came from above them, it made both the Giants skin crawl and shook them to their core. The shudder had clearly been a shot of electricity. From outside the window, the creature screamed once more before the atmosphere went quiet, but not quite silent. The sound of shuffling could be heard and soon something was coming back into the tunnels. Peering out as much as he could, Ilioc saw a young boy, possibly around 19 years of age. He was brought to the large area filled with sawdust. The boy’s skin was burnt and covered in wounds, he lay on the table and screamed out in pain. Men around the boy tried to tend to his wounds yet, if anything, they seemed only to make the boy worse. The water cleaned his wounds but worsened his pain, and he tried to move around but the men held him still. Soon the boy was pulled up off the table and led back to his cell. As he passed in front of Ilioc and Torbjørn, Ilioc saw the tears in his eyes and the weakness of his body. The smell of burnt hair and skin lingered outside the Giants’ cell for a good period of time.
A little while later the Giants’ cell door opened and several men stood outside, a few came in and ushered them out forcefully. The weapons they held were the long rods which hummed with electricity. They were forced into the main passageway before being led a fair distance and into an old cell without a door. The men commanded them to stand in the centre of the cell, and they did so without question. In the corner of his eye, Torbjørn saw a man quickly activate some hidden switch, although he did not accurately see what it was he had pressed. The floor below them hissed, and following the sound, Torbjørn and Ilioc were sent flying upwards.
The platform that the Giants had been standing on raised them upwards as the roof opened up above them. It was only a matter of seconds before they had left the cells and were engulfed in their new environment. Standing in the centre of this arena, a large wall and fence was all that separated them from the hoards of people staring at them with beady eyes and muttering between themselves. The Giants’ feet lay upon hot sand which ran to the edges of the arena, while a faint buzzing sound could be heard all around them with no apparent source. A short sharp whistle caused the Giants to turn, where above them people moved uneasily and without care away from a short man who stood alone between the crowds. Eyes then moved from a pale, balding and shrimp of a man to another figure who now came into sight.
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“Well, well, well,” This new man bellowed from his hefty chest as he walked with purpose into the Giants direct line of sight. “I see the hunters have caught us some fresh meat.” The man smiled at his words, which to all but himself looked more like a grimace. His short yet ragged beard hid most of his black and rotting teeth yet nothing could hide the distasteful pleasure he had with this. The crowd around this man laughed at this comment only to be cut short by a quick gesture. “Come now, let us not laugh at these poorly built Giants,” the man continued, “let’s give them a chance. Throw them a net and nunchucks and we’ll see if they can fight as well as they can fish!” The man’s words became a snarl as a large net and nunchucks were thrown down at the Giants’ feet. It was true that in a man’s eyes the Giants did have the same physique as a fisherman. However, to the man whose body was similar to that of a tree trunk and who was staring down with disgust at the Giants, it was understandable as to why he had wildly misjudged their strength.
The man’s comments had certainly riled up the crowd, but before he could agitate the Giants any more a gate opened at the far side of the arena. Ilioc and Torbjørn picked the weapons up off the ground and prepared for what was coming. Armed to the teeth and without a single trace of fear two men entered into the arena. Cheering from the crowd echoed around the stone walls in favour of the two men, while in the arena, the men’s focus was on the Giants and the whistling sound of the weapons as the Giants spun them in their hands. The first move was fast, the nunchucks just skimming the top of one of the men’s heads as he ducked. The man ran for Ilioc and threw a net that wrapped around Ilioc’s ankles, sending him crashing to the floor. The whistling of the net grew louder now as Torbjørn spun it above his head. A loud crackling sound followed as a thick whip hit against the sand. Torbjørn launched the net a little too high and it hit the metal fence. Ilioc turned and reached for the nunchucks just as the man pulled out a dagger. Ilioc managed to grab the nunchucks and hurled them towards the man. They hit him directly in the chest and sent him flying. Torbjørn seized the moment and ran for the net, having to leap to avoid the whip. Torbjørn made it to within arm reach of the net before the whip found his leg and pulled him to the floor. Luckily he was able to grab a piece of the net, drag it to the floor and on top of the man. Meanwhile the man had thrown the dagger and as a result, Ilioc had a wound to his upper thigh. The man lay panting on the floor while Ilioc beat the nunchucks’ on the sand. Both the man and Torbjørn were lying on the floor now, they caught each others’ gaze. Torbjørn unwrapped the whip from his leg while the man wriggled out of the net. Torbjørn turned and faced the man who was holding the whip in his hand. He whipped it forcefully at Torbjørn who avoided the attack, then he avoided the next one and the next before he grabbed the whip in mid-air. He forced it out of the man’s hands and walked over to him. He pressed him to the floor with his foot.
Ilioc went to strike the man but he had become more alert and moved at Ilioc’s strike. Twisting and turning, the man managed to avoid Ilioc’s attack before he knocked the nunchucks out of the Ilioc’s hands. The man then wound up a spherical shaped object and fired it at Ilioc which caused him to fall flat onto his back as electricity coursed through his body. The man then strode up to Ilioc, knelt down and held a knife to his throat. Meanwhile, Torbjørn knelt down and pressed the body of the whip against the other man’s throat.
A deep laugh erupted that halted any movement within the arena.
“Isn’t that something?” came the booming voice once more, “Good show, good show.” The man congratulated them, clapping slowly. Torbjørn watched as the man withdrew the knife from Ilioc’s throat and in return, Torbjørn allowed the man he was pinning down to wriggle free. Just as they had entered the arena both men left with complete composure. The crowd grew loud once more in their thirst for bloodshed, and once again a simple gesture calmed them down.
“You will get your nourishment,” the man bellowed as the gate shut at the far side of the arena. Torbjørn gave Ilioc a thumbs up, comforted that for now, they were safe as they could be. “I have big plans for these Giants.” The man’s smile was uneasy and it etched itself into the Giants memory. Following this comment there a heavy metallic sound filled the arena and all around the arena spikes moved towards the centre of it. The Giants were forced into a small space before the floor moved down, moving the Giants out of sight and back into the cell without a door.
The Giants’ own cell door shut with them inside, where they awaited their next escapades to the arena with no knowledge of what would be awaiting them. To begin with, both Giants’ first fights were without death or much bloodshed as they were against boys and coming of age men from the fighting institution in order to develop and test their skills. Torbjørn in time proved too powerful for them so he was pitted against animals as part of the evening entertainment. Ilioc however, was the perfect subject for them and despite a few deaths, he became a favourite of the institution, especially for coming of age ceremonies. Torbjørns’ skill with dual weapons and nets, along with his cunning mind proved a welcome and exciting change to ordinary animal fights. Meanwhile, Ilioc’s hand with close combat weapons made him a worthy opponent to all that fought him.
The days started to race by in the arena, the sun now hidden behind the horizon and refusing to rise beyond its minimal sunrise and sunset level. The Giants grew stronger, as did their opponents and they were placed into more challenging battles. Nevertheless, they had not come across anything that had had the same mutilated scream they had heard from within their cell.
A few days after Ilioc had been moved to fighting animals. Hype in the arena had started. There was a big fight coming up and the crowd was buzzing. One night Torbjørn was taken for another fight and Ilioc heard the mutilated scream from within the cell. He became alert immediately and listened as carefully as he could, he heard the sounds of fighting, the excitement of the crowd and the fury of Torbjørn and the creature. After a while, all went silent. The crowd. The fight. Even the very air fell still as if the world itself was holding its breath. As though they were waiting for something. Soon the sounds of mechanisms working filled the silence, their cell door opened and Torbjørn stumbled in.
“What was it?” Ilioc asked curiously.
“En skygge,” Torbjørn answered slowly. “A shadow. As dark as the night itself, without a body, made of mist that twisted and changed as it stood there. A nameless demon.”