GladiatorMature

I stared down my opponent, backing dangerously close to the electrifying wall of our gigantic cage. I straightened my back as the other fighter charged me with his barred teeth and protruding talons. Blood was dripping from his mouth. I was going to be pissed if he got anymore of more of it on my clothes, half of my winnings support my shopping addiction. You see, before I was abducted, I was a spoiled heiress. At least that was what the description on my file read. I never quite grew out of my need to accessorize. Everything from the fuchsia  spurs on my combat boots, to the custom designed handles on my knives. One should always live life to the fullest when they were constantly facing death.

 My trainers were assholes, but I knew they appreciated a contender with spunk, it made for a better show. I brought them in more money. Before you write me off as evil incarnate; know this, my opponents are born and bred for killing, many of them had innocent blood under their finger nails. Sadly, that's the only distinction between me and them.

My adoptive parents, weren't overly affectionate. Okay, they were cold and paid attention to me only when absolutely necessary. I was raised by a nanny, who coincidently disappeared the night of my thirteenth birthday. The night I was taken from my home. Until then I never realized or cared where all of our money had come from. I always assumed it was inherited.

When I was dragged into the private jet  that brought me to the facility (in the middle of the mountains, Colorado somewhere), I insisted my parents would come for me. Though in truth, I wasn't convinced. I had only hoped. The two men in charge of me laughed mercilessly at my expense when I told them this theory. "Stupid succubus!" One of them ridiculed.

I became real quiet. I had only heard that term once before in a heated conversation between my adoptive parents, but I knew what it meant. I wasn't a succubus. I was a demon, which I know isn't a whole lot better, but it made feel less cheap. As it is, I'm eighteen and I've never tapped into the whole, luring a guy to my bed and killing him bit. If you'd seen my victims you'd absolutely understand why I'd just kill them outright.

I glared at the men as they laughed at the notion of my parents saving me. The oldest and most dominate male, a beefy Italian warlock named  Lance, held up his hand and everyone shut up. "Ari, is it ? Your charges did an excellent job in keeping this information privy to only us. They were compensated accordingly, as you may have noticed."

My hands curled into trembling little fists, as I made sense of the information he was feeding me. My parents never wanted to keep me, only to sell me to this freak show? I shook my head fervently.

"Yes Ari. You should know the difference between old and new money, you should have wondered where it all came from. You idiot girl."

My head started to throb, as tears started trailing down my cheeks. Lance slapped me, causing me to hit my head in the wall behind me."If you want to survive Airi, you'll stop acting weak. Your life depends on it. And don't even think about running, we will find you."

I bit my lip to keep from crying out. My head was pounding even harder than before. I really didn't want to be slapped again. Lance cuffed me with a tracking device. Etched in it was the label X-908749.

"Your new name." He explained. "We have our work cut out for us X-9. If you cooperate and survive you may even live to see a hefty commission."

I blinked. I had no idea what this meant. My first thought was that I was being sold into prostitution. I learned the truth, and it was even worse.

The Lycan boy charged me, making me pull out of my daze and stand to attention. He made eye contact. That was his first mistake. My violet eyes came shortly after puberty, they used to be gray, until I started changing more and more into a succubus. A stark contrast against my long raven  black hair, they always caught people off guard.

I slammed my fist into the boys already broken nose, earning another mist of blood in my face. He hollered in pain, but quickly retaliated by leaping up and kicking me in the jaw. Lycans possessed wicked ninja moves, it wasn't fair.

I fought passed the pain and grabbed his face, digging my nails into his cheeks. I allowed him to immerse in my gaze, so he wouldn't anticipate the sudden onslaught from the horns that tore through my skull.  In a swift motion, I head butted him, allowing my horns to pierce through his temples. I jerked my head back, my horns released him with a fleshy suction sound, that made me a tad queasy. 

The horns disappeared, back to whatever hellish dimension they came from. I drew out of the fight and focused on the loud cheering and cat calls that came from the crowd. Lance unlocked the cage and was immediately beside me. He held up my arm. "Our reigning champion!"

Everyone cheered louder. I tore myself away from Lance and flicked the crowd off as usual. Only they were so wrapped in their sadism , they liked me more for it.

The End

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