Chapter 21: Dance
As Micky followed the guard through a long corridor, Percy was reevaluating his life choices. How had he found himself hitching a ride on a walking corpse, escorted to a fight through a dungeon? Not to mention, this place had somehow turned out even crueller than Remior. Micky might be their prisoner, but these people didn’t seem to know nor care he’d just died.
‘Surely, they could give him a day off!’
Oblivious to his thoughts, the guard soon brought them to a large barred gate, an ominous red light seeping through the gaps. Stopping, the man made some kind of whistling sound. And a few moments later, Percy heard a loud metallic noise. It was grating, like a rusty chain grinding against something hard. At the same time, the gate was slowly lifted by the mechanism.
Micky stepped through as the guard stayed behind. He walked into an open space, to the cacophony of jeers and boos, which only intensified upon their arrival. Percy’s host scanned their surroundings slowly, which he figured was done for his sake.
The stands surrounded them in all directions, stretching up for over a hundred meters. And they were filled to the brim with eager spectators, clearly itching to enjoy the barbaric event. Most of the crowd was too far to make out, but many of those closest appeared to be the same species as Micky, albeit lacking the tattoos again, like the guard.
‘Why do this to one of your own?’
His host had a visceral reaction to that thought. Percy felt phlegm accumulate in their throat, before Micky spat out the half-chewed head of the rodent, covered in thick bile.
‘Please… never do this again…’
‘Your fault! For calling this trash “my own”!’ Micky snapped back.