Dark Souls

50.gladiatrix

KAT'S POV

"Morte! Morte! Morte!" The enthusiastic crowd chants as I'm released unto the arena floor from the hypogeum.

I'm a bit disoriented, but I still know where I am. I've heard hundreds of stories about these infamous fights in the outskirts of Balestrate. It's every underground fighter's dream to be standing here someday, but mine, because I'm no murderer—- well, was no murderer.
There are no rules here, you simply choose between life or death, that's it. Either you're being dragged down the Death Gate or dragging your opponent through it, and I'm taking the latter.

I take a step forward, quietly wincing in pain as I realize I probably have a rib fracture. That doesn't stop me from smirking though, to be honest, I've been craving this adrenaline. I can feel this is exactly what I needed, a good fucking fight, the smell of blood and sweat, the pain that reminds me I'm still alive... breathing... burning.

"Morte, morte, morte!"

I roll my eyes exhaustedly. Do these motherfuckers really think I fear death? Do they think they trigger some sort of anxiety or panic with their pathetic chanting? Because no, I'm actually thrilled by it. I've come face to face with death so many times that I sometimes think its afraid of me, that it'll never take me, free me, and I guess that's my punishment for all I've done.

I chuckle, throwing my head back and finding myself taking in the night sky scattered with beautiful stars.

Will this be the last time we'll see them, Kat? My subconscious asks, climbing into a coffin all dressed in black.

No. The answer is fucking no. Death is not an option for me tonight, at least not until I make Antonella pay for thinking she had the right to decide when I would take my last breath— and for threatening me with murdering the people I care about.

Since the moment I arrived here I've been tried to be killed, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, thrown up and down like a fucking rag doll, but tonight, that shit was ending. Whatever empathy or humanity I had left in me drowned the moment I was tossed into that goddamn pool earlier tonight, right now, the only thing I see and feel is pure hatred and deep, consuming anger.

My cold eyes search for Antonella, "Where the fuck are you, you motherfucking bitch," I whisper to myself.

I quickly spot her in the box at the north of the amphitheater. She gracefully waves at me, the same smirk as when she took me from Capaci on her lips. Wolf is right next to her, one of the guards has a gun to his head and his eyes for the first time are full of uncontrollable panic. I force my eyes away from his, locking them with Antonella's once again, I couldn't feel any vulnerability right now, only hate. My glower deepens with every second our stares are glued. Hopefully she can read right through them—- that I'd be coming for her next.

In that moment the gate across from me opens, making me automatically shift my attention to it.

This is it, Katarina.

I stare down at my wet sneakers and jeans, quickly pulling them off and tossing them to the side, staying only in my tank top and boy shorts.

Everyone suddenly starts cheering and applauding, when I lift my gaze towards the opened gate again a tall and muscular woman is stepping unto the arena floor, flexing her arms and screaming like the exhibitionist she apparently is.

You've never lost a fight, Kat, don't let this be the first one.

I won't.

Once my opponent is tired of showing off, she starts walking towards me and I do the same.