(The prologue and Chapter One are available for public viewing. To read the rest of the story, go to Subscriber Only Snippet Series and sign up for my email list to get the password!)
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The screams of the bloodthirsty crowd ricocheted around her cell like a starving banshee.
Chaya gripped the handle of the katana, examining the blade in the dull light one last time. There were no faults in the weapon’s craftsmanship— the steel was bright and sharp, free of dent or chips, and the handle fit perfectly in her grip.
It was a weapon for a champion.
Or, in her case, a murderer.
She stared at the gray-green eyes in her reflection, barely visible beyond the shadows of the violet mask obscuring her face. The mockery of what the symbol once stood for burned deep like a brand in her mind.
The gifted heroes, turned into entertainment. Kill or be killed.
All for the lust of the crowd.
Her face was clean now, her blond hair pulled up into its customary braided ponytail, but what would it look like when the tournament was over? How much dust and blood would coat her skin, turning her into more of a monster than a sixteen-year-old girl?
Even if she didn’t murder children by her hand, it was by her mind. And that was worse in itself.
She closed her eyes, snapping herself out of the spiral. No, they were not children. They were opponents. They were no more human than she was. They were all caged beasts, set free only for the enjoyment of the crowds, drowning in their vicious ecstasy.
She killed to survive. She slaughtered because she was the champion.
Today’s fourteen would be no different than the 686 creatures she’d murdered before.
The announcer’s voice cut through her thoughts and the mob’s call for death. She opened her eyes, sheathed the katana, and stood. She turned in time to greet the sunlight filtering through the prison’s raised gates, opening a path for her into the arena.
Only one mortal would walk out of the Arenas alive.
And when she did, her footsteps in the sand would be filled with her opponents’ blood.