A Vendetta and a Threat

I guessed it must have been late evening when Jeremy Wayne appeared at the cell door. I was leaning back against the cell wall, staring up at the ceiling and examining the patterns in the mouldy stone. Vengeance had been dragged out for a fight around an hour earlier, trying to disembowl the guards as they wrestled with him, and nearly succeeding several times. No-one who came to catch Vengeance came out unscathed.

The cell was unusually quiet in his absence, so the sound of the bolt being dragged across the doorframe made me jump alarmingly. I got to my feet and watched as the door opened to reveal a tall man with pale blond hair and watery green eyes looking at me as if I were a sewer rat. He could have been well-muscled, but years of inactivity had turned much of that muscle into fat. Compared to my sparse physique, he was positively pudgy.

"Hello Gavin." said Wayne, wrinkling his nose at the stench in the room, "I'm surprised you're still here. Haven't those other cut-throats finished you off yet?"

"Surprisingly, no." I replied, smirking as the optimism in my voice triggered a snarl from Wayne. Gods knew that man hated my guts. Understandable, given what I'd done.

Wayne snorted, "Well then, I'll simply have to wait until your luck runs out. I didn't make sure you were sent here to watch you win these fights. I sent you here to get killed."

"I never would have guessed." I replied, my words biting into Wayne like midges.

The next thing I knew, Wayne's face was an inch from my own and his hand was clenched just beneath my jaw. He pushed his bullish face closer and hissed with a voice like a volcano that's about to explode.

"Don't make me angry," he snarled, "You do not want to make me angry now. If none of the low-lifes in here will finish you off then I damn well will! And you will die, Gavin Ryder, mark my words, you will die. I'll make you pay for what you did to Lucas!"

"That swine deserved what he got," I spat back, grabbing Wayne's pudgy wrist and twisting it hard, "If I hadn't knifed him then someone else sure as hell would have. He'd been messing in things that ought not be messed in. I warned him to keep his nose out of it, but he didn't listen. So I gave him what he had coming. And let me tell you something Fatso, even ending up in this place doesn't detract from the satisfaction I get when I think of how he screamed when I stuck my knife in his belly and gutted him like a-"

I never finished my sentence. The guard who had escorted Wayne in, having got wind of the commotion, presently strode across the room and gave me a sound thump across the face with his truncheon. I yowled and let go of Wayne, he wriggled out of my grip and made for the door, shouting back over his shoulder as he went:

"Your days are numbered Ryder! I won't let you get away with this! You'll die before the year is out, I swear it!"

I replied with a torrent of bad language, still fuming even as the bolt slammed home in the door behind them and Wayne's footsteps faded from hearing.

I swore that if I ever got out of the Arena alive, I'd make Wayne come for a visit.

With a horde of hungry lions for hosts.

The End

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