Reanimated as Death's Bane

Being watched

Under the morning sky, the red clouds casted a glow over the horizon, beings rose lazily to the quiet morning, some earlier than others and among them was Dave.

Despite his body still aching from the night before, he was swinging his blades, training to get better at using his weapon.

He didn't sleep much, he couldn't, not here. Where his life was constantly at stake. He had to get stronger to survive and that's what he aimed towards.

After he was done with his routine, he went in directions the others followed earlier, trying to navigate his way around this environment.

After a while, a low, grinding horn shook the stillness of the air, it was different from the food call. Inmates stirred, crawling out of their tents or off the cracked ground, their weird shapes stretching in the dim light.

Dave sat up, and watched. The yard was alive now, with chaotic movements from abnormal looking creatures, like something out of a wasteland nightmare.

The brick house at the center stood like a king’s fort, its iron door shut tight, with no signs of movement. The wooden shacks around it were quiet too, but the tents, black ones, white ones, buzzed with activity.

Inmates shuffled towards a wide open area, where guards in black armor stood, with their double barreled rifles hanging across their necks.

Dave followed, keeping his distance, at the back of the crowd. He stayed low, but kept watch of every movement. He wasn't planning to get caught off guard again.

The inmates didn't seem to care about him, too busy dragging their feet towards whatever this was.

The open area was a work yard, a dusty land that stretched as far as the eye could see, littered with piles of scrap metal, broken crates, boulders. It looked like a junkyard from an apocalypse.

The guards barked orders through their helmets and it echoed loud, through the speakers.

“Move it!” “Sort the scrap!” “Stack the stones!”

Inmates lifted heavy loads, some dragging sacks bigger than themselves, others hammering large boulders into moveable bits, and some lifting large pieces of metal easily, like they'd done it a hundred times.

Dave found a spot, half hidden behind a pile of scrap metal. He sat on the ground with his knees up, and watched the inmates work brutally.

One inmate struggled to lift a crate with its arms shaking. Then a guard's whip struck across its back, the creature yelped, dropping the crate and the guard whipped again, harder. “Work or you keep bleeding!” the guard snapped.

This place would grind anyone who couldn't keep up.

Other inmates moved faster, the stronger ones made it look too easy, hauling sacks or stacking stones coordinatedly in groups.

Another slacked, a skinny dwarf like figure, it put in every bit of strength it had to drag a sack across, but it was weak, then a guard's whip struck it across the face.

It screamed, almost like a cry clutching its face in the dirt and another whip followed. The other inmates laughed, mocking the poor creature. His jaw tightened as he watched. This wasn't just work, it was a show of power, a way to keep the weak I line.

He was so focused on the yard he didn't notice the shadow until it was close. A figure slid behind him, quiet as a snake. He tensed up, grabbing the hilt of his blade, but he relaxed a little when he saw who it was.

The snake man from the truck, the one who yanked him out of trouble. His skin gleamed with sweat, he had been working, but he noticed Dave's absence, so he kept watch for any signs of him.

“Thhat wasss sssome show you put on lassst night,” the snake man said slithering with a hiss “ Roasssting that guy? Wasss bold and epic. But you're drawing eyes kid. Bad onesss.

Dave narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on his blade. “Eyes? Let them come. I'll handle it.”

The snake man laughed, a dry rattling sound. “You got guts, I'll give you that. But you don't know this place. There's bigger fish than the one you burned. Meaner, dangerous, top dogs. I learned the hard way.

He leaned closer. “They run this place, cross them and you're not just dead, you become a lesson.”

He tried advising Dave, but Dave was just strong headed. “I'm not here to bow to anyone. I'll take them on if I have to.”

Dave's character was amusing but foolish, he shook his head. “Suit yourself kid. Just watch your back.” He uncoiled, slithering off towards a pile of scrap.

Dave watched him go, his words were sinking in, but he was not going to stick to it. He didn't care about warnings. He was done running, done being a prey. He wanted to fight, win , get a ticket, and climb out of this hell.

His eyes drifted to the weaker Inmates, struggling with sacks and tumbling under the guards' whips. They were easy targets he could take on.

He was still watching when another figure approached him, this one was different from the rest. Tall, pale skin, with a black leather jacket and ragged pants with fingers shaped like knives and crimson eyes. It looked more like a skeleton than a human.

It was one of the figures from last night. He felt uneasy looking at it, but he kept his face blank, pulling out his blades in an attacking stance. The creature grinned.

“You're a decent fighter, human,” it shrugged, its voice hoarse. “That little fire show was not bad, it's been a while since we saw something like that. How about you try a real challenge? The arena.”

Dave brow lifted but he still kept his stance. “The arena? How does that work?”

The creature's grin widened, it was easier than it thought to convince him. “Simple! You go to the pit, tell the guard you want to fight, they put you on the list. You're new so you have to win a couple of fights to get a ticket and that comes with respect, it won't be a big deal,” It leaned closer, its voice barely above a whisper. “Unless you're scared.”

Dave's face darkened. Scared? After last night, he wasn't scared, he was hungry. Hungry for a fight, for something to make the others stay clear. “I'm in, where do I sign up?”

“Did you not hear me? The guard by the pit, he will set you up!” It turned slightly annoyed and left the area, like it wasn't part of the others.

Dave watched it go, he wondered why none of the guards stopped it, he came to a conclusion, maybe one of those guys the snake man warned him about. But now he had to fight.

He spent the rest of the morning wandering, mapping the Grounds in his head. The work yard was filled with activity, guards cracking whips, inmates hauling scrap or digging trenches.

He had already marked the three targets he would challenge at the arena, a scrawny thing with too many eyes, a limping creature with one arm, and a small, twitching thing that looked like it’d break if you sneezed on it. Perfect. He could take them in the arena, no problem.

But he wondered why that guy had suggested he fight at the arena, was something big going to happen. He couldn't tell. But he knew they were watching. And he was going to fight.